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starsjulia · 23 days ago

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trick or treat! // alexia putellas

a/n ~ based on this request!!! also for some reason i decided my spanish gcse makes me qualified enough to write in some spanish? so bare with me if it’s absolute crap.

warnings ~ tiny bit suggestive, just loads of fluff!!

The crisp autumn night embraces you as you step out of the car with Alexia, who’s dressed as the White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland. Her costume is charming and stylish: a white vest over a crisp shirt, a red bow tie, and bunny ears perched atop her head, with a toy pocket watch dangling from her waistcoat. You smile to yourself, already anticipating the comments from your teammates about the two of you arriving in matching costume.

As for you, you went all out with your Alice costume. The blue dress is snug, the neckline a little low, and the skirt ends dangerously high on your thighs. You paired it with knee-high socks and black heels, leaning into the ‘playful’ side of Halloween. When you catch Alexia’s gaze on you, you can tell she’s noticed. Her eyes narrow slightly, and she takes a slow step closer.

“¿Y esto?” she murmurs, her hand slipping around your waist and trailing down to the hem of your skirt. “¿No se supone que Alicia es más… inocente?” (“And this? Isn’t Alice supposed to be more… innocent?”)

You tilt your head, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. “Well, maybe this Alice has grown up,” you tease, twirling a lock of your hair around your finger. “Besides, don’t you like it?” You give a little twirl, the skirt flaring out to show even more leg.

Alexia’s grip tightens on your waist as she pulls you closer, her voice low and playful. “Oh, I really like it,” she admits, glancing pointedly at the hem of your dress. “Pero no quiero que nadie más lo vea así.” (“But I don’t want anyone else to see it like this.”)

With a chuckle, you reach up to adjust her bunny ears, purposely brushing your fingers through her hair. “Then you’ll just have to keep an eye on me all night, won’t you, mi conejito?” you whisper, giving her a challenging look. “Think you can manage that?”

She grins, her eyes darkening with playful possessiveness. “No voy a dejarte sola ni un segundo,” she replies, her voice dripping with confidence. (“I’m not going to leave you alone for a second.”) She tugs at the skirt again, as if trying to pull it lower, then leans in closer, her breath warm against your ear. “Y si alguien se pasa de listo… bueno, ya veremos.” (“And if someone gets too bold… well, we’ll see about that.”)

——————

Inside the club, the atmosphere is electric. Music pumps through the speakers, and the crowd is alive with laughter and costumes that range from frightening to hilarious. You walk in hand-in-hand with Alexia, her hand resting possessively on your lower back, thumb grazing the fabric of your dress as if reminding you of how short it is.

You catch sight of Mapi and Patri, who are dressed as the Joker and a pirate, respectively. The moment they spot you, grins spread across their faces.

“¡Vaya, vaya! Look who showed up looking like a sexy fairytale,” Mapi calls out, her eyes twinkling as she takes in your outfit. “And Alexia, did you come as her bodyguard or something?”

Patri snickers, nudging Mapi. “I mean, you can’t blame her,” she says. “Someone’s gotta keep Alice from causing too much trouble, especially in that little outfit.”

You just laugh and wrap an arm around Alexia’s neck, leaning into her. “Don’t worry, girls,” you say playfully. “Alexia’s already taken the job of making sure I behave.”

Alexia smirks, squeezing your waist. “Eso es cierto,” she murmurs, glancing down at you with a glint in her eyes. “Y no voy a quitarte los ojos de encima, cariño.” (“That’s true. And I’m not taking my eyes off you, darling.”)

Throughout the night, every time you move a little too provocatively on the dance floor or your dress rides up when you sit down, Alexia is there to adjust it, keeping that possessive yet amused smile on her face. It’s clear she’s enjoying the game—acting protective in a way that’s both teasing and affectionate.

When you pull her onto the dance floor, you can feel the tension between you turn into a playful back-and-forth. You dance close, letting your hands trail up her chest to adjust her bow tie, and give her a coy smile. “What’s the matter, mi conejito?” you tease. “Jealous?”

Her fingers grip your waist a little tighter, pulling you against her. “No,” she replies with a smirk, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Just reminding everyone who you belong to.”

—————

After the party, you and Alexia head back to her apartment. The Halloween festivities aren’t quite over yet, at least not for Alexia, who insists on a horror movie marathon. “It’s tradition,” she explains, setting up the first film as you settle on the couch with a blanket.

“You know I’m not a fan of scary movies,” you remind her, giving her a pout that you hope will soften her resolve.

Alexia smirks, sliding in beside you and pulling you into her side. “Pero es Halloween, cariño,” (“But it’s Halloween, darling,”) she says, wrapping an arm around you. “And it’s not that scary… I promise.” The mischievous glint in her eyes suggests otherwise, but you reluctantly agree, pressing closer to her for comfort.

As the movie starts, you try to focus on the plot, but the suspenseful music and creepy atmosphere immediately put you on edge. With every jump scare and sudden movement, you find yourself clinging tighter to Alexia. By the time a particularly gruesome scene appears on the screen, you’re practically buried in her shoulder, your hands gripping the fabric of her shirt.

“¡Dios mío!” you gasp, squeezing your eyes shut. “Why do people enjoy this?”

Alexia chuckles softly, her hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. “Tranquila, mi amor. I’m here,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You can hide all you want.”

When you peek up at her, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, she gives you a playful smile. “You know, if you’re going to jump on me like this, we might as well watch more horror movies.”

You roll your eyes and push her lightly, but you can’t help but snuggle closer. “Don’t get used to it. This is a one-night-only thing.”

She grins, wrapping both arms around you and letting you rest your head on her chest. “We’ll see,” she whispers, “but you’re cute, and i like it when you need me to protect you.”

The movie continues, but with Alexia’s arms around you, the scares seem a little less intense. Whenever you jump or tense up, she’s there to hold you tighter, letting you bury yourself in her embrace. Eventually, you start to feel sleepy, lulled by the comforting rhythm of her breathing and the warmth of her body.

“Are you falling asleep on me?” she asks, her voice soft as she feels your head droop.

“Maybe,” you mumble, half-asleep. “But only if you promise not to make me watch another horror movie.”

Alexia chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Está bien, princesa. We’ll watch something funny next,” she says. “Whatever you want.”

—————

The next day, you decide to do something a bit more light-hearted and far less terrifying: baking Halloween-themed cupcakes together. It’s an impulsive idea, sparked when you saw a cute cupcake recipe while scrolling through your phone.

You find yourself standing in Alexia’s kitchen, surrounded by ingredients and baking tools. You’re wearing one of her oversized Barça jerseys as an apron and a pair of cat-ear headbands left over from last night, to keep your hair out of your face, while Alexia has pulled her hair up into a messy bun and is already reading the recipe out loud.

“Okay, we need to mix the flour, sugar, and butter first,” she instructs, glancing up at you. “¿Estás lista?” (“Are you ready?”)

You grab a handful of flour and grin mischievously. “More than ready,” you reply, tossing a small pinch of flour in her direction. It lands lightly on her cheek, and she looks at you with mock disbelief.

“¿En serio?” (“Seriously?”) she says, smirking as she reaches for her own handful of flour.

Before you can react, she throws a cloud of flour back at you, and the kitchen quickly turns into a playful battlefield. You’re both giggling uncontrollably as you duck behind the counter for cover, trying to avoid her flour attacks while sneaking in a few of your own.

Eventually, you call a truce, both of you covered in flour, laughing and panting as you lean against the counter. “Okay, maybe we should actually bake now,” you suggest, wiping some flour off your cheek.

“Buena idea,” (“Good idea,”) Alexia agrees, grinning as she pulls you into a quick kiss. “But you started it, remember?”

You stick your tongue out at her before getting back to work, this time actually focusing on the recipe. The two of you mix the ingredients together, taking turns stirring the batter and stealing kisses in between tasks. When it’s time to pour the batter into the cupcake liners, you make a show of ‘accidentally’ licking a bit of the batter off your finger in a slow, teasing way.

Alexia raises an eyebrow, her gaze darkening slightly as she watches you. “Ten cuidado, princesa,” (“Be careful, princess,”) she warns, her voice low. “I don’t think I can resist you if you keep doing that.”

With a cheeky grin, you lean closer to her. “Who says you have to resist?”

She doesn’t need any more encouragement. In one swift movement, she wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you in for a kiss, tasting a bit of the sweetness still on your lips. When she finally pulls away, you’re both breathless and smiling like fools.

“Okay, okay, cupcakes first,” you laugh, playfully pushing her back. “Then more kisses.”

Alexia smirks but nods in agreement. “Deal.”

After the cupcakes finish baking, you work together to decorate them with Halloween-themed designs—some with little ghosts, some with pumpkin faces, and a few with sprinkles. You’re not professional bakers by any means, but the cupcakes turn out surprisingly cute, even if the icing is a bit messy.

As you finish, you steal a glance at Alexia, who is carefully adding the last sprinkle to a cupcake. “Thanks for doing this with me,” you say softly, your tone sincere. “I know it’s silly, but it means a lot.”

She looks up, her expression softening as she meets your gaze. “No es tonto,” (“It’s not silly,”) she replies, reaching out to brush a bit of flour from your hair. “I’ll do anything for you, you know.”

You lean in and kiss her once more, savoring the sweet taste of icing and the warmth of her lips. “I love you, Alexia,” you whisper against her mouth.

“Te amo más,” she murmurs back, wrapping her arms around you and pulling you close. “Always.”

You spend the rest of the afternoon in the kitchen, snacking on cupcakes and cleaning up the mess you made, with music playing softly in the background. There’s nothing extraordinary about it, but somehow, it’s perfect—just you and Alexia, sharing the simple joys of being together.

As the sun sets and you curl up on the couch to watch a much less scary movie, you think back on the last 24 hours. From the Halloween party to the horror movies and flour fights, it’s been a chaotic, laughter-filled celebration. But with Alexia by your side, you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas fanfic #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas one shot #alexia x reader #woso x reader #woso #woso imagine

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discordantwritings · 7 months ago

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Cleaning Up (Crocodile x Reader)

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, fem afab! Reader, virgin! Reader, Crocodile’s your boss, fingering, PiV sex, inappropriate use of Crocodile’s hook, belly bulge, slight overstimulation

WC: 3.6k

Summary: You’re Sir Crocodile’s maid and, if you’re honest, your uniform is an offense to feminism. Luckily you don’t really see your boss or anyone else while you work so there’s nothing to worry about.

Until you see him.

And then you start having things to worry about- mostly how attracted you are to your boss.

Notes: what can I say. Horny brain won

Tagging: @keiva1000

In the handful of weeks you’ve been Sir Crocodile’s personal maid you’ve grown to like your job. You were terrified on your first few days but quickly you found out that there was little reason to be scared. You were rarely ever in the same space as Crocodile- you worked mostly during the day while he was attending to his work- and you did your job throughly so he never had any notes for you beyond which drinks to stock up for him. Not to mention even the slight unpleasantness of how much sand you have to clean up is easily overridden by the generous pay you receive. And what you were initially the most uncomfortable with you’ve grown to like- that being the uniform.

It’s… short. And low. And so painfully stereotypical. The textbook definition of an impractical sexy maid’s outfit. For the first week you spent more time trying to make the skirt cover your ass then you spent cleaning. But when you realized there was rarely anyone in the house while you were working you quickly cared a lot less. There was something nice about putting on an outfit you didn’t have to think about picking out, and honestly there wasn’t any work so hard that you needed the coverage of pants for safety, so you developed a good relationship with the skimpy black and white number.

Maybe you did think you were a little sexy in it.

Of course, there was no one at work to see you and certainly no one at home, but it was nice to feel good about yourself. If no one else was going to objectify you, goddamn it, you were. Your boobs did look nice in the low square cut top. Your ass was cute when in peaked out from under that stupid tiny skirt.

It made coming to work each day slightly less boring. Your job was, admittedly, monotonous as you worked through your cleaning schedule. Today was an office cleaning day though- a nice break from the mopping day before. You collected all your cleaning supplies, pushed the big doors to Sir Crocodile’s office open, and nearly jumped out of your skin.

Crocodile was sitting behind his desk, leaning back as he read a newspaper. He folded down the edge of the paper as you came in, looking you up and down as you stared like a deer in the headlights, carefully constructed day flying away from you.

“I’m so sorry sir I didn’t know you would be in today-“ You had only seen him twice before this- once when he interviewed you and then another when he gave you a tour of his home. Never during work hours and certainly never in your uniform. “I’ll clean other places I’m sorry to disturb you.”

“No, it’s fine.” He says dismissively and that’s all as he unfolds the paper again to continue reading.

Okay. Time to do your job then. And try not to focus on how damn short your skirt is. It’s fine.

And really, it was. You went about your normal work and it seemed like Crocodile went about his. He looked at you from time to time but you got the feeling his was more looking at the quality of your work as opposed to your figure. Thank god you were good at your job.

After an hour or so you were done and loaded all of your supplies back onto your cart to move onto the next room. But, since he was here-

“I’m all done here unless there is something else you’d like done?” You ask politely, wanting to appease him.

“Hm…” He sits up in his chair and looks you up and down. “Who gave you that uniform?”

“Um… one of your officers sir, he had an interesting makeup style?”

“Ah. Bon Clay.” He huffs. “Well, at least your boyfriend can get some enjoyment out of this.”

“I’m not-“ This conversation has not gone anywhere near what you were expecting. “No boyfriend or anyone sir.”

“Really…” He looks you up and down again and suddenly you feel heat from his gaze. “Interesting. Well, there’s nothing else I need today, continue on.”

And just like that you were dismissed. You nod your head a silently hurry out of the room, grateful you didn’t have to continue facing down his hardened stare. It was frightening… but there was a twist in your gut that certainly wasn’t fear.

Arousal.

It followed you through the rest of your shift, his piercing grey eyes in the back of your mind as you swept and dusted. The heat from his gaze still lingered on your skin as you crawled into bed later that night. The few words he did say to you left questions for your mind to run rampant with.

But he was your boss and a terrifying pirate so you needed to shove all those thoughts and lock them away where they couldn’t be found. You could ignore how wet you’d gotten just from thinking about him looking at you.

You probably weren’t going to see him for a while so you had plenty of time to cool off and get a rational head about all this. This fleeting, lewd fantasy would be over before you knew it.

That is, of course, until he’s home the next day too.

This time he’s in the dining room, enjoying a cup of coffee and a book when you round the corner. You aren’t as startled this time, but all those lustful thoughts came crawling back into your head.

“Good afternoon sir.” You say, hoping your voice hasn’t betrayed you.

“Afternoon.” He says, only glancing up from the page when you speak.

It’s probably better this way, the less words he speaks the less of that low tone the less you have to latch onto. You sweep the floor first before moving to clean the long hardwood dining room table. At first you only clean 3/4ths of it, avoiding Crocodile’s space. But when you go to put your rags away Crocodile stops you.

“Oh, don’t let me get in your way.” He pushes himself back in his chair, taking his coffee cup with him as he sits about a foot from the table now.

“Thank you.” You go to star cleaning from the side of the table but a small tut from Crocodile stops you.

“Wouldn’t right here be a better angle?” He gestures casually with his hook to the small space between him and the table. Your brain is slow in processing what he’s saying and he simply leans back with a shrug. “But what do I know about cleaning.”

You’re not entirely convinced you’re not dreaming as you walk closer to him and turn so your back is facing him when you put yourself in between him and the table. You hear your heartbeat in your ears as you first clean off the table right in front of you, taking your time so you can work up the courage for your next action.

Slowly you lean over the table, pushing yourself up on your tip toes to get your whole torso onto the hardwood surface. You know your ass is fully on display for Crocodile, your black panties probably not doing much to hide the folds of your pussy. Behind you, you hear Crocodile suck in a breath.

“Just like that…” He murmurs and you aren’t sure but you swear you feel the fabric of your skirt move up slightly.

You take your precious time cleaning off the last bit of the table, making sure to shift your hips much more often than necessary as you keep yourself pushed up. There’s no way he isn’t staring at you the whole time, and you try not to have a giant smile on your face when you slowly stand up again and turn around. You’re still situated in that small space, your legs between his spread knees.

“Is there anything else you need sir?” You look into his eyes, using every ounce of your willpower to not look down and see if he’s hard or not.

His golden hook plays with the edges of your skirt as he looks at it thoughtfully. “I thought this thing was a little much at first, but I think I’ve come around to it.”

“It’s grown on me as well.” The attention has you flushed and your heart beating out of your chest.

“You look like you want to run.” He grins up at you and you have to grip the table behind you to keep yourself steady.

“No sir.”

“Then why are you so flushed?”

He’s playing with you. Like a cat toying with a bird before it kills it. There’s something so intoxicating about being prey.

“I guess I’m not used to attention like this sir.” You answer honestly.

“How can that be?” His flesh hand comes up and grazes along the outside of your thigh. “Pretty little thing like yourself…”

“I’m not sure. Maybe I keep too much to myself.” His touch is featherlight as he leaves goosebumps in his wake.

“No partner now… certainly there have been partners before?” His grey eyes are intense as they lock with yours and the implications of his question aren’t lost on you.

“No. No partners before.” You admit, growing more breathless by the second.

His grin shifts slightly into something that would be frightening if you weren’t dizzy with arousal. His coffee cup gets placed back on the table, long forgotten by now.

“What an absolute shame.” There’s no hint of sadness in his voice. “Poor little thing like yourself all alone late at night.”

His hand drifts under your skirt and around to your ass, palming the flesh there. “I bet you make do though.”

That was the thing though- you really didn’t. Not for lack of trying, certainly not, but every time you touched yourself you’d never been able to climax. You get in your own head and your thoughts run rampant and you can only focus on how your fingers don’t actually reach anywhere good or how you can never keep up the right pressure on your clit to push you over the edge. Something always slips at the last minute and drags you out and away from your orgasm. You enjoy the ride there, at least, but never quite get over the hill.

You take too long to respond but that in itself tells Crocodile his answer. The grip on your ass turns bruising and you bite back a moan. You watch as his tongue runs over his teeth and he’s about to say something when-

“Sir.” A voice sounds from behind you and embarrassment shoots up through your system.

“What?” Crocodile’s voice is sharp and mean as he glares past you at whoever is interrupting.

“There’s been Marine movement counter to what our intelligence has told us-“

“How bad?” Crocodile cuts him off and you look and see Crocodile’s hook slowly crushing into the table next to you.

“Bad.”

“Fuck.” His hook full imbeds in the table with a slam and you can’t help but jump. “I’ll be there in a second. Go!”

You hear hurried footsteps leaving the room and there’s a heavy pause as you both collect yourselves. You hear the sound of splintered wood as he pulls his hook out of the table and stands up, towering over you.

“Don’t worry about the table.” His hand slowly leaves you and you bite back a whine. “Do you think you could stay late today? My bedroom is a mess and could use your attention.”

You nod furiously but he tuts.

“Use your words sweetheart.”

“Yes sir.” You manage and are rewarded with the surprisingly soft brush of his fingers on your cheek.

“That’s my girl.”

And with that he leaves you, breathless and gripping the broken table. You take a deep breath and calm yourself down so you can finish your work for the day.

Once you figure out how to make your legs work again.

You clean just about every square inch of the house you have access to before slipping into Crocodile’s bedroom as the sun went down. Of course, there was absolutely nothing to clean in his room- honestly you weren’t confident he even slept in here with how pristine it was.

You smile as you get a devious thought, walking over to the neatly made bed. You slip your panties off before sitting on the edge of the bed and then nicely lay them out next to you. Now to wait.

And wait.

And wait some more.

You’re half asleep by the time the bedroom door startles you awake. You shoot upright and try to look poised but you quickly realize he probably doesn’t care.

He looks tired and aggravated. His eyebrows furrowed as he slams the door behind him and for a second you think you’re going to be asked to leave- that is until he sees you. His shoulders visibly relax as he stalks over to you, looking you up and down.

“Sorry I had to keep you waiting I-“ He stops in his tracks as he sees your panties sitting next to you on the bed. That predatory grin from earlier sneaks back on his face. His hook picks up the black fabric and holds it out in front of both of you.

“What’s this?” He asks, looking down at you.

“I-“ All the courage you had worked up earlier fizzled out by now, embarrassment raking over your body as you avoided his gaze. “Just wanted to be ready for you.”

“So here you were on my bed- bare, alone- what a cruel man I am. Fuck if I had known-“ His body towers over you and you lean back, arms straight behind you supporting you on the bed.

“You’re here now.” You still can’t quite meet his eyes but hearing all the need in his voice has your confidence slowly creeping back.

“Yes.” His hand comes up and his thumb rubs your cheek as he gently moves your face so you’re looking in his eyes. “Back to the headboard and spread your legs for me.”

You quickly push yourself back until you hit the headboard and let your legs lay open, earning you an appreciative hum from Crocodile. He walks around the bed before sitting next to you, hand grazing up your thigh. Leaning in he nudges your jaw with his nose and you tilt your head, letting him have full access to your neck. Teeth graze along your jugular as he pushes your skirt fully up.

“You might have ruined my sheets already, you’re absolutely dripping…” You whine as his large fingers push apart your folds.

He bites down right as he pushes a finger inside you, pain and pleasure mixing as you writhe against the bed. His finger pumps slowly in and out as he licks over the bite he just made. A second finger slips easily inside you while his thumb rubs against your clit.

“How do my fingers feel? Hm?” He whispers as he nips at your earlobe.

“Feels so good sir- I’m-“ You press your head back into the headboard as you feel the coil tightening inside you.

This is always where you get in your own way and you feel that self scrutiny rearing its head. Suddenly you’re worried about how you look, how you sound, how your inexperience is going to eventually ruin the night. You’re quickly sliding away from your orgasm and Crocodile catches on fast.

“Hey.” His hook goes under your chin and directs your face to his. “Focus here.”

His lips are on yours and his body leans in, pressing you down further into the bed. The kiss is so consuming you don’t notice this hook leave your chin until it’s slicing clean down the middle of your top and bra. Fabric falls away and your yelp at the action is easily swallowed by Crocodile. He doesn’t give you a moment to breathe as the cold metal of his hook drags against one of your nipples.

“I guess I’m not too upset you won’t cum on my fingers.” His voice is husky as he pulls away, hand quickly shoving his pants down. “Your first orgasm should be on my cock anyways.”

Your head is swimming at his words and as he pulls his cock out you realize you’re in over your head. He’s big- too big you’re afraid. Crocodile must see the gears turning in your head and he chuckles.

“Oh don’t worry darling- it’ll fit.” He moves back over you, caging you in with his large body.

He drags his tip through your folds, teasing you as he presses kisses along your neck and collarbone. The gold of his hook drags down between your breasts, somehow still cold despite its constant presence on your body. His tip presses into you and you already feel the stretch and you hands fly to his back and shoulders to anchor yourself.

“Shhhh- just relax baby-“ He pushes in slowly but relentlessly and it’s hard to follow his instructions when you feel like you’re getting split in half.

As your nails dig into the skin of his back he leans down and takes one of your breasts into his mouth, his tongue swirling around your nipple as his hook presses into your other nipple. There’s nothing you can do but take what you’re being given, letting the painful yet pleasurable sensations overwhelm you until finally- finally- your brain empties of all thoughts.

“That’s it- such a good girl for me-“ You don’t miss how breathless he is, forehead pressed to your collarbone as he pushes his last few inches into you. “So fucking tight-“

One of your hands moves up and tangles in his black hair. “Please- need-“

“Hm? Need more already?” He starts to move his hips, pace still slow as you still struggle to accommodate his girth. “I knew you were going to be such a good little whore for me.”

He sits up and pulls your thighs up further around his waist, shifting his angle and making you see stars. You feel his hand pressing against your stomach and when you look down you can see the slight budge of his tip pressing up through the skin. It’s enough to make you dizzy.

“You see that don’t you?” He picks up his pace, hand moving down to hold your hips in place. “You’re taking me so well- I’m going to fucking ruin you for anyone else. Do you think anyone else could possibly fuck you like this? Huh?”

“No- fuck- I’m-“ You claw at whatever skin of his you can reach as you feel your orgasm rushing up on you and for once you’re not afraid it’s going to creep away.

“That’s right baby- cum all over my cock. I know you can do it.” His pace is brutal and his hand moves from your hip so his thumb can circle your clit and just like that you’re gone.

White hot pleasure rakes down your spine as you come undone on his cock, the release nearly making you cry. Crocodile has moved to press kisses against your neck again, slowly moving back up to your lips as he rocks into you at a slowed pace. The kiss is less intense than before but no less intimate.

“Think you can give me another one?” He asks, breathe fanning over your face.

“I don’t-“ You’re quickly cut off by him flipping you onto your stomach.

You feel his hand press down against the space between your shoulder blades as the outer curve of his hook presses your hips up. Despite his slowed pace the pleasure is still the same- body still reeling from your last orgasm.

“I can’t help being a greedy man.” He grunts out, the sound of his hips hitting your ass filling the room.

You hold onto the sheets for dear life as you do your best to keep your ass in the air as he fucks you into the mattress. The bed does little to muffle your debauched moans and whines as his cock hits spots you didn’t know existed.

“C’mon baby be a good girl for me- milk my cock-“ His thrusts are rougher now and you have no choice but to obey his command.

You cry out into the bed as you cum, only just able to hear Crocodile groan behind you as you feel the sudden loss of his length inside you. Not a second later you feel warm ropes of cum hit you ass.

“Hold still for me for just a bit more baby-“ Crocodile is breathless as you feel his hand grab at your asscheek, fingers smearing his cum into you skin. “Fuck you look so beautiful all gaping for me- next time I’m going to fill you up, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

You can only offer a weak moan, completely worn out as you focus all your energy on not fully collapsing onto the bed. Of course the thought was wonderful, but you’re not sure when your body would recover from this.

“Alright love, you can relax.” At his words you melt, body falling into the bed as the haze of exhaustion washes over you.

You feel Crocodile’s weight leave the bed but he’s only gone for a minute. He returns with a glass of water and a damp cloth, cleaning you off with a surprising softness.

“I don’t think I can walk let alone make it home.” You admit after you take a drink of water.

“Did you really think I’d let you go home after that? Darling, you never have to leave again if you don’t want to.” Crocodile joins you on the bed again, hook sitting on his bedside table.

As he pulls you into his chest, chin resting on top of your head, you don’t think that’s such a bad idea.

#sir crocodile x reader #sir crocodile x you #crocodile x reader #crocodile x you #one piece x reader #one piece x you #x reader #discordantwritings

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dark-konohagakure2 · 5 months ago

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I'd like to request Deidara seeing his sister for the first time after going rogue, he can't be without her now. Some of his hand stuff, kidnapping, incest, noncon. Please

tw: incest, sibling incest, noncon, kidnapping, obsession, molestation, groping, kissing, possessiveness, yandere

All characters depicted are 18+

Deidara was never a stellar older brother, he was never very attached to his little sister, seeing her as a brat that never understood his art, so he had no qualms with ditching her when he joined the Akatsuki, but by some bizzare stroke of luck he ends up running into her again years later, and his opinion on her does a drastic shift.

She's grown into quite the lovely young lady, now having curves that she didn't posses before. Deidara's opinion on her goes from indifference to a complete obsession with her, he doesn't want to be away from his sexy loveable sister for even a moment now, he wants her all to himself.

His sudden investment in her is incredibly jarring for her, but Deidara will just brush all her concerns off, telling her that he just missed his baby sister, he'll even take her to his home, generously letting her stay at his place, but what he doesn't tell her is that he'll never let her leave now that he has her.

It doesn't take her long to realize that her less than stable older brother has no intention of letting her leave, and Deidara isn't really subtle about it when she does find out, in fact, he sees it as the perfect time to take what he wants.

"Oh shut your mouth, un! It isn't kidnapping if we're family, yeah? So stop whining and let big bro take good care of you..."

Deidara wants to get a good handful of her body, but he doesn't just feel her body with his hands, he can taste it too thanks to the mouths on his palms, his hands will lick and bite her most sensitive spots while his actual mouth will be forcibly clamped onto hers, shoving his tongue down her throat and stealing her very first kiss.

He rambles on quite a bit when he's fucking her, going on about how good her pussy feels and how she grew up to be such a good lay. Deidara doesn't care that she's his sister, all he cares about in that moment is getting his rocks off and keeping her for himself.

Deidara is a virgin, the only experience with sex he has is using his hands to give himself a blowjob, but he's never gotten to sink his cock into some wet cunt until now, so he gets a bit overwhelmed, blowing his load almost immediately, but he won't stop after that despite his embarrassment.

When he's done with her he'll cuddle her close, even if she's crying and pushing him away, telling her all about how good that felt, and now that he has her, he's never going to let her escape his grasp ever again.

"See?! I told you it'd feel good you cute little idiot! You better get used to it, sweetie, because I'm going to be showing you a lot more of how much I love you~"

Deidara really ends up regretting leaving his sister behind all these years, not because of any genuine remorse for leaving his sister alone without so much as a goodbye, but because it meant he couldn't get inside her sweet little pussy sooner.

#naruto #naruto shippuden #boruto #naruto smut #naruto x reader #headcanon #naruto headcanons #reader insert #tw.incest #akatsuki #akatsuki smut #akatsuki x reader #deidara #deidara x reader #deidara smut #yandere #yandere naruto

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peppermintquartz · 3 months ago

Note

Prompt: laundry day

Tommy does not want to wake up. It's the day he has to do Most Dreaded Chore: Laundry.

He's certain that if he does go to hell because of the whole gay thing, his punishment will be to do laundry for eternity. Sorting. Washing. Drying. Ironing. Folding. Hunting down stray socks.

Before he even runs the dryer, he will need to clean out the lint trap and then check the vent. The past week the 217 ground crew had to help with not one, not two, but three houses that caught fire because of vents clogged up with lint. Tommy is feeling a little paranoid.

Grumbling, he rolls out of bed and pulls on the very last shirt and pants combo he has left: a faded green tee with holes in the side and a pair of purple shorts from his, let's say more... exhibitionist, days.

He's trying to work out whether Evan's teal sweater should be parked under delicates or darks when the owner of the sweater enters the bedroom, armed with a tray of breakfast. It smells so good that Tommy's stomach rumbles loudly in complaint, but Tommy doesn't move. No eating until the first load is in the machine.

"Hey, you're up," Evan says brightly. He sets the tray of food on the nightstand and joins Tommy on the floor. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to figure out how to wash this sweater," Tommy says.

Evan takes it, looks at the label, and glances around. "Honey, what is your system?"

"Darks here, lights here. Then tops, bottoms, socks and underwear." Tommy points to each pile. Then he holds up the knit sweater. "I don't know if this will shrink in the wash or not."

Evan stares at him. Then he heaves a sigh. "Okay. How have you mastered flying a chopper but don't know how to sort dirty laundry? Go. Have breakfast. I'll do this round and then I'll teach you."

"What? No, there's no need-"

"Thomas Kinard. Go eat the breakfast I cooked for you. Drink your coffee made the way you like it." Evan hauls Tommy to his feet and pushes him in the direction of the bed, smacking his ass in his tiny purple shorts for good measure. "Don't even come near this part of the room until you've finished breakfast."

Bossy Evan is very sexy in Tommy's eyes, but his hunger for actual food outvotes his libido. As he scarfs down scrambled eggs and pancakes, Evan is re-sorting the pile, muttering under his breath that he should put up a chart of care tags here and at Eddie's, this is why home economics should be mandatory for grown adults living alone, etc.

Tommy is about halfway through when Evan carts the first load off to the laundry room. Eyeing the piles left behind warily, Tommy wonders what complicated system he's going to learn.

Evan comes back. "Finish your food," he orders. But he's smiling as he says it, so clearly Tommy's lack of competence in washing his dirty clothes has not turned him off yet.

"Thank you," Tommy says, "for the food and for that." He gestures to the piles on the floor.

Evan joins him on the bed, accepting a slice of tomato from the end of Tommy's fork. "A third of those clothes are mine anyway." He chews and swallows. "Anyway, you had some concept, so it's not like I had to do it from scratch." Then, as Tommy eats the rest of his breakfast, Evan talks about reading care labels, sorting by color and fabric, and how he learned to hand wash delicates after ruining some very expensive lingerie belonging to an ex-girlfriend.

Tommy can't look away from Evan's animated face and the way he can't keep his hands still as he speaks, and he thinks, I want to keep him forever.

"Move in with me," Tommy says.

Evan stops mid-spiel. "What?"

"Move in with me," Tommy repeats. "Not... Not because you can cook or do the laundry, that's not the reason why I'm saying it. It's just. I like this. I love this. The whole bit where I wake up and I don't have to remember if you're here or at the loft, and we can steal bites from each other's meals, and I can look after you the way you look after me. And you already have my key. We can meal prep together, and I can do the dirtier chores, I can scrub the toilets and unclog the vents - don't run the dryer until I do - and maintain your Jeep, and we can fall asleep together whenever we don't have overnights."

It's a lot of words for him to say at one go, and Tommy feels himself faltering near the end. Licking his lips, Tommy swallows dryly. He reaches for Evan's slack hand.

"I love you and I want to be with you as often as possible. If you prefer to keep the loft, then it's also okay, I'm not pressuring you to-"

Evan shuts him up with a firm kiss. Then he smiles into the kiss. "Yes. I'll move in with you. My lease is almost up anyway."

Tommy exhales. Then he nudges Evan's nose with his own. "Alright. Let me drink my coffee, and I'll go check on the vent, and then you can teach me how to sort our dirty clothes."

"Okay. I'm gonna go find out what you have in your kitchen so I won't bring duplicates."

#bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard #prompt: laundry day #i actually like doing laundry though i just do darks and lights and delicates

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slayfics · 1 year ago

Text

Camboy Katsuki.

Warnings: NSFW | Katsuki aged up

1,500 words~

Chapter links

Chapter 1

You locked your bedroom door and sat on your bed. Placing your headphones into your ears you opened your laptop and logged on to a familiar site.

You already felt the stress of the day start to leave your shoulders as the website loaded. Your eager eyes met with the flashing GIF Live now.

No matter how many times you click on Katuski Bakugo's live cam page your heart never fails to flutter.

"Ah it's you- back again so soon you dirty slut," he grumbled into the mic. Katsuki was laid back sitting in his chair with just a muscle T-shirt and boxer briefs.

You bit your lip watching the boy on screen already feeling your heart rate increase from the sight of him alone in his room and his provocative words spewed at you.

"Well don't be so fucking shy, you're the one that came here to talk to me say something," He spoke into the camera.

You nervously typed into the chat box, "Hi Katsuki".

"Hi? Is that all you have to say? No one else is on right now. It's just you and me, alone. So, are you sure that's all you want to say to me?"

You bit your lip harder and typed, "You look so fucking hot sitting there half nude."

"Ha! That's more like it, I knew you were fucking filthy. You've been coming here almost every day. Can't get enough of me can you?" He laughed. His laugh was a low sexy laugh that sent shivers between your thighs.

You typed out, "You already know I'm obsessed with you."

"You've got good taste," He laughed again, causing you to tighten your thighs together. "Well, it's just you and me right now, so tell me. What do you want me to do?"

Your hands began to shake as you typed. You had never been alone in the chat room with him before. You usually watched as others gave him demands. "Play with your bulge," you typed out.

"You fucking whore, you would want to see me play with myself. You already know that's going to cost you," He spoke, responding to your chat message.

You sent over a tip in the chat causing Katsuki to smile.

"There you go, such a good kitten always obeying me," He said as he grabbed at his bulge squeezing it between his palm and fingers. "Bet you want to know what it feels like don't you?" He said almost in a whisper, his husky voice grumbling in his throat.

"Yes please," you typed out eagerly.

He palmed at his bulge in slow exaggerated moments letting out hard breaths as he did, "Hmm- you're so dirty. You want to imagine grabbing it with your own hands, don't you? You want to feel as it grows with each of your strokes. Until you have the full length of me in your hands. Then what? Hm? What would you do with me then?" He teased as he continued to grab at himself.

Your heart continued to beat faster in your chest as you thought of a response, "I'd want you inside me," you typed out.

"Hm- you don't waste any time do you?" He laughed as he grabbed himself, his bulge now fully grown. "Look at that, hard just for you. Now what?" He asked with a smirk on his face.

"I want to see all of you," You typed.

"Then you know what you have to do," He responded.

You sent another tip through the chat.

"Perfect," he grumbled as he took off his shirt. He pulled down his boxer briefs allowing his dick to flop out and rest on his abdomen. "How is this view?" He asked with a smirk on his face.

You felt your whole face flush, his words ringing in your ears through your headphones. You clawed at your own clothes trying to get them off.

"So hot," you typed into the chat.

Katuski smirked reading your comment. "You're turn, what are you doing?"

You froze at his response. Katsuki never asked questions like this to his viewers before. Was it because you two were alone?

"Don't be shy, tell me what you're doing. Are you touching yourself? Imagining me inside you? I bet you'd feel so good stretched around me," He said, each word dancing in your ears causing you to shudder.

"Let me see you slide your hand up and down yourself so I can imagine you inside me," you typed and sent another tip.

Katsuki smirked and slowly ran his hand up and down the length of his dick as he eyed the camera. Even though there was no way for him to see you, it felt as though he was looking directly at you. "I bet you look like you're starving for me to touch you. Lips puffed out, hands shaking. You'd love me to fucking take you wouldn't you."

"God yes I want you to take me so fucking bad," You typed back.

"I bet you dream about it, wake up to a mess in your panties about it, don't you? I bet you can't wait to fucking get home to see my face on your computer. Do you think I haven't noticed how consistent you are? You've logged in every day for the past 72 days to watch me cum. I bet you know the shape of my cock even better than I do at this point," he spoke as he continued to run his hand slowly down the whole length of himself.

"I have the look on your face when you cum committed to memory, I think about it every time I touch myself," you typed, your excitement washing away any nervous reservations you had before.

"Who are you, hu? What do you look like? So many other regulars have sent me direct messages with pictures. I want to see you," He grumbled and took his hand off of himself.

You felt a cold sweat come over. He- He wanted to see you?? Your heart began to beat out of your chest.

"Come on- don't be shy, be a good little kitten, and show me what that face looks like. I want to see who I've been cuming for the past few months. I'm not going to keep touching myself till you do," He said.

You were forced to oblige. Your addiction to Katksui was so strong, that you'd do anything he'd ask if he was holding pleasure over your head. You grabbed your phone and covered yourself skimpily with a sheet snapping a seductive picture quickly. You sent the picture to his direct messages on the app and waited with bated breath.

"Holy shit-," He said, eyes widening as he opened his phone to view your picture. "You're fucking hot as hell, what the fuck are you doing on a website like this, hu? You could get plenty of guys to rail you in real life," He said, looking up at the camera and setting his phone down. As promised he began to run his hand up and down his dick once more as he waited for you to respond.

Your heart felt like it skipped a beat at his compliment. Did he really mean that or was he just doing fan service? "I only want you to rail me," you typed out back to him.

"I fucking would," He grumbled, pulling harder and moving faster up and down his dick. "I'd fuck every one of your pretty holes babe."

"I bet your dick would feel so good inside," You typed back.

"Damn- you've been this dirty the whole fucking time," He said starting to pant at his own touches. "You need to speak up more often in the chat babe."

"I like that we're alone right now. I don't want to share you," you replied.

"Well, I'm all yours right now. What do you want me to do, hm?" He said as he kept his swift pace moving his head up and down his full length.

"Cum for me," you typed out.

"A cum shot? Before anyone else even logs on? I don't know kitten, that's gonna cost you a lot," He said.

You sent over an extra large tip.

"Damn, beautiful and rich? How the hell did I get so lucky? You got it, babe, just for you." He spoke and began to move even faster, squeezing himself tighter. His panting became heavier leaving you mesmerized watching his chest rapidly rising and falling. His moans ringed through your headphones giving you a euphoric rush on their own.

"It's going to be so much easier to cum now that I know that sexy face is behind that camera," He said, eyeing directly into the camera. His gaze was piercing and full of lust.

"Say my name when you do," You typed out and sent another tip.

"Fuck you're dirty~" he said, his pre cum beginning to lube up his strokes. His dick shined as his hand moved from the tip to the base in rapid movements. Katsuki rested his head back in his chair. A movement he always did when he was reaching his limits.

"Damn, this feels extra good today," he spoke with barely any breath continuing his strokes. "You feel so good," He said head back and eyes closed, speaking just for you, just this once. "Fuck," He muttered and moaned out your name as his release spilled all over his abdomen.

Shout out to the anon that gave me this idea for Muichiro. I had to write it for Katsuki as well.

Tags~

@unofficialmuilover

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usedpidemo · 1 year ago

Text

Acquainted (Red Velvet Yeri)

(Thank you for the commission! I hope it's to your liking.)

You’re just about ready to head off to sleep when you check the group chat. This is your nightly tradition. These strangers, now your closest friends despite the anonymity, are active and in good spirits, as usual. Outside of your weekday 9-to-5, these few moments are the most interesting parts of your day, and you just so happen to join during a particularly lively conversation:

> [22:48:01] yerimiese: (posts a link to a red velvet album article)

> [22:48:14] flutter mane: :sanapog:

> [22:48:23] silksong sulker: k-pop is saved

> [22:48:33] wonyoung cockjuicer: ew red velvet

> [22:48:37] wonyoung cockjuicer: wonyoung can peg me tbh

> [22:48:39] irene’s tokki: Bae J:floshedjiggle::floshedjiggle:hyun

> [22:49:06] milf hunter: :floshed:

> [22:49:11] milf hunter: gape sugalo

So of course, you chime in as well.

> [22:50:12] You: lets get it, new rv fancams

You’re in no mood to chat for longer than five minutes, but before you head offline, you receive a private message from your closest friend:

> yerimiese: so when are you in korea again?

> You: Next week, why?

> yerimiese: nice. why don’t we meet up, that would be dope as fuck

> You: You’re in Korea?

> yerimiese: yeaaaah? why wouldn’t i be?

> You: I thought you’d be doing other schedules abroad

> yerimiese: nah sm definitely won’t fly us out to film an mv. cheap ass bastards ㅋㅋㅋ

Yerimiese then sends you a video link. It’s a Yeri fancam, her weapon of choice. Your conversations began with small, intimate talks about your personal life, soon transpiring into open fapping, degrading, and casual lewdness with each other. Despite the usually depraved nature of your messages, you both continued sharing snippets of your day to day lives. That’s how close you’ve grown as friends.

> You: Well i’m very tired, today was a long day at work, had to work overtime. No time to lewd, sorry

> yerimiese: it's alright. you did well today

Yerimiese sends you a pic this time. It’s an event; the internet can’t load any quicker. You’re hungry, impatient, dying. Whether it’s intentional or not, the photos she sends whenever you’re tired or stressed out are hotter than her usual swimsuit or photoshoot reel. You’ve shared enough about your daily routine to her that a camera crew might as well be recording you.

It’s nothing out of the ordinary; a simple candid pic of herself lying in bed, her face perfectly cropped out of the background, showing nothing but her body on full display in front of the huge mirror, dressed in skimpy black panties and a white shirt that accentuates her shapely breasts. As usual, she’s not wearing a bra; you can clearly see her hard nipples demanding all of your attention.

> yerimiese: no need to send a dick pic tonight if you don’t feel like doing it

You can’t help it. Tired as you are, you feel obligated to send her one. Luckily, every pic she sends is more than enough to make you instantly hard. It feels more guilty not to be turned on, rather.

It’s a mostly quick and painless affair, powerful enough to put you out of commission within minutes. Even though you’re mentally checked out, Yerimiese’s sexy body is too hot not to crank one out. Taking a pic of your erect cock as you pump yourself to her is second nature; sending it on sticky fingers after you’ve spurted all over your phone and blankets is a different story. There’s no other way to put it, she was the perfect reprieve from the day’s exhaustions—a perfect high note to go out on.

> yerimiese: fuck you’re THROBBING THROBBING tonight :ningasm: your dick looks so damn nice. i can taste your cum through the screen

> You: Happy now?

> yerimiese: more than, and then some. I wish you were here right now so you could feel how wet I am

> You: Just wait. I can’t wait to fuck you hard. Goodnight

> yerimiese: goodnight

> yerimiese: :tukkwithkiss:

—————

The next time you’re able to communicate with her, you’re one day away from being in Korea. In that period, you’ve been inactive in the group chat because work. What welcomes you back is a barrage of lewd photos and Yeri fancams.

> yerimiese: see you tomorrow :chuupeek:

It’s an open secret that you know she’s Kim Yerim. Yes, that Kim Yerim of Red Velvet fame. It was a giveaway right from the first explicit photo she sent you; those tits in a tight, petite package couldn’t have belonged to anyone other than hers. That, and the fact that her username is the same as her Instagram handle, and that she has a photo of herself in the group as a display pic. How she would end up stumbling into your private K-pop server objectifying her body and her profession is one of life’s biggest mysteries, yet here she is, giving you a very personal look into her shapely figure, better than any fancam and photoshoot could ever provide. To others, she’s merely a casual acquaintance, but to you, she can freely open up herself.

Mainly because you’re one of three people in the group chat that still cares about Red Velvet.

Her latest sent photo is relatively tame; a tight fitting white silk sundress, and the skirt is virtually nonexistent, her panties practically out in the open. Luckily for you, she seems to be sitting down, but not in her usual living room. The notion that this is what welcomes you to Korea, that you’ll be balls deep inside an idol’s pussy right when you land—it ruins you.

Almost.

An airport guard manages to break your deep train of thought. “Sir! No phones please,” he sternly commands, saving you from total disaster; you’re inches away from walking straight through a metal detector with your phone in hand, the belt around your pants, and some spare coins lying deep in your pocket after you bought some traditionally expensive bottled water. Luckily, no one manages to see the photo—and even if they did, she’s still smart enough to cut out her face, leaving nothing else to your imagination.

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about immigration and airport security, it’s that there’s little need for repetition. You go through security four times. At the entrance, after the check-in counter, then within your departure gate, and even before boarding your flight—repetitive. It’s frustrating enough to tell Yerim, to which she responds with more lewd photos of herself.

> yerimiese: yeah ive been there before ㅋㅋㅋ

> yerimiese: how long’s ur flight?

> You: About 13 hours

> yerimiese: cali?

> You: Yes

> yerimiese: kinda random, but seulgi misses los angeles

> You: How come?

> yerimiese: something about an ex-boyfriend that i didn’t know about until the other day ㅋㅋㅋ i bet she’ll be jealous when she hears about you coming over just to clap my cheeks ㅋㅋㅋ she’d wish it was her bf instead of you

> You: does she know about this?

> yerimiese: of course not LOL i bet you’d rather fuck her instead of me, so she’ll never know. smh.

> You: That’s not true ur my RV bias since day one!

> yerimiese: stop lying LMAO i don’t blame you tho seulgi has some really toned legs and a nice slappable ass XD anyway, i’m gonna send you something to pass the time while ur onboard

> You: If it’s a masturbating clip i swear to god

> yerimiese: fuck you got me LOL

> You: Goddamit if anyone finds out on a plane of all places…

> yerimiese: i still can’t get over your clip of you jerking to me. i can taste your dick. you’re depriving me by leaving me out to dry for a week ㅋㅋㅋ

> You: You’ve been touching yourself to that clip for a week??

> yerimiese: can’t help myself, album prep has been tiring and i haven’t really found any opportunity to relax in the meantime

> You: I’ll be there soon, just wait a bit longer

> yerimiese: can’t trust me with that, i’m very close to making a huge mess of my hotel room ㅋㅋㅋ

> You: You’re in a hotel?

> yerimiese: just to meet you! I won’t be able to meet you at the airport (duh, idol dating shit), so this is the next best thing. just message me when you’ve landed here, okay?

> You: Sure

—————

It’s ingrained deep within Yerim’s mind. A core memory. If her phone could present count how many times she’s played the clip, it would be over a thousand.

It’s very straightforward. A 45 second clip of someone masturbating between the sheets, pressing their erect cock against their phone with a brightened image of a scantily clad woman on the screen. But it’s not just any woman, it’s her. She’s pleasuring herself to the idea of a man jerking off to her. She’s following his rhythm, timing the pace her fingers rub her clit to the tempo of the man’s cock pumping to her zoomed-in breasts.

And she’s mere minutes removed from a conversation with that exact same person.

Slumped against the hotel room walls, her bliss spirals out of control rapidly. Her legs are instinctively spread wide, juices already leaking through her panties and spilling to the floor; that’s how used they are to Yerim’s impulses to pleasure herself. In those brief moments, she imagines how the next few days play out, skipping past the formalities and pleasantries and going straight to the fucking. She moans and shouts as if that very man’s cock is penetrating her pussy hard at this very moment. Her other hand bashes the wall, tongue screaming streams of profanities, as if he’s manhandling her, using her to his personal delight.

“Fuck! Suck those fucking tits!” she screams, slipping one strap of her sundress down to pinch her own tit, enhancing the illusion. Her phone rings; in her mind it's functionally a vibrator. He’s come fully prepared, and she’s riding high knowing that this person is doing exactly what he said in their private messages from the very start.

Yerim drags her fingers along her clit violently, desperate to reach climax, the realization that this is her third orgasm of the day way beyond her. The evidence can be found everywhere: on the soiled bed sheets and in the smell of the shower; she envisions herself getting railed in those parts of the room, and then some—essentially turning the entire hotel room into the backdrop for all of the things he’d do to her: fingers around her throat, sunk into her ass, until it’s red and hurting, the way she’d quiver and cream all over his throbbing cock. Her neediness has no limits; it even breaks past her very own personal quarters, the loudness of her own self-induced pleasure drawing concern from occupants nearby.

Only after the blissful haze of orgasm does everything fall back in place. That repetitive knock on the door is a huge wake up call. Yerim’s eyes widen.

“Shit.”

She checks her fingers—they’re coated in copious amounts of slick—and after a little further inspection, she realizes the aftermath.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.”

—————

Being honest about yourself, you couldn’t have asked to feel hornier at a worse time than this. Thirty thousand feet high up in the air, stuck in economy class because you don’t get paid enough to deal with the bullshit back in the office. Using your one of two allowed leaves in the year for a trip to see a girl you’ve mostly known online, and it isn’t even paid. To make things worse, there’s no layovers—just a point-to-point flight from San Francisco to Seoul. 13 hours.

And boy, is the ride absolutely miserable.

By what you might as well call divine intervention, you’re conveniently seated between a nun and a little girl—the two worst kinds of people to be alongside with. No, not because they’re annoying or anything like that; aside from the girl getting up every thirty minutes from her window seat to get something from her parents across the aisle, you’re practically barred access to your glorified archive of lewd Yerim pics. Opening them up with a kid barely in the first grade beside you is openly asking for trouble.

And the few times you get up for a lavatory break, you can’t get yourself going. There’s always someone at the door every five minutes.

Eight hours deep into the flight, you look over your shoulder, catch one of the male flight attendants sneak inside one of the vacant lavatories with a fellow stewardess while everyone’s fast asleep. Fucking sickening. That should be you with Yerim right now.

When you arrive on the other side of the planet, you’ve gotten only a couple hours’ worth of sleep. You almost fumble your passport at immigration, getting them mixed up with a slew of business and membership cards. Then there’s your forgetfulness working against you, remembering you need some kind of pocket Wi-Fi, and now you have to spend a little more to get back online. It’s a mess, and it wasn’t that long since you were in Europe for a seminar, where these things were merely second nature to you.

At least you remembered that VPNs exist. You message Yerim on the taxi ride out of the airport, unsure of where to begin.

> You: Just got out of immigration

> yerimiese: fuckin finally!

> yerimiese: you got a place to stay here?

> You: Not yet

> yerimiese: don’t bother, lemme send you my hotel address, you can stay here

Of course you don’t know Korean, despite the constant back and forth with Yerim for months. Learning’s been on the backend of your itinerary, and has never been your top priority, even now. You show the cab driver the address, who merely looks at you and the phone with a particularly vacant and dumbfounded expression, as if you’re stupid for not planning this out—which, in that regard, he’d be correct.

When you finally arrive at the hotel, only one message stands between you and finally meeting Yerimiese, once and for all.

> yerimiese: I’ll be at the poolside, third floor. can’t wait to meet you :P

And that’s exactly where you end up going. Forget that you’re lugging two whole bags and a traveler’s backpack on your shoulders; you drop them off at the front desk, expecting the staff to have a clue of what’s going on and what’s about to happen.

Stepping out into the poolside, it’s a completely barren sight. It’s three in the afternoon on a Tuesday; most people probably aren’t even booked, let alone in this supposed five-star hotel. You don’t really question whether she’s being serious or not, the evidence was in the previously sent photos; you’re dying to meet her at this point.

And as if perfectly timed for dramatic effect, a woman emerges from beneath the waters, shaking off the wetness from her damp hair.

Yerim casually swims over the deep waters’ edge, without a care in the world, let alone your presence quietly shadowing over the large pool. Even halfway submerged, you can make out the outline of her shapely bust and hourglass figure, tightly hugged by a pink swimsuit. She was sultry and intoxicating to gawk at from candid photos, but seeing Yerimiese herself in the flesh, that’s when the realization hits you: this is happening.

And you can’t move a muscle, let alone react from the actualization that you’re right in front of her. Even as the waves of water splash on your new loafers, you simply observe. It’s creepy, it’s morally dubious, but it’s one in a million. You’re taking in every moment, every second; soak it all in, you’ll never get an experience like this ever again.

You should be friends by now, if your definition of friendship means sharing explicit body photos and exchanging devious intentions about how you’ll fuck each other online or how much cum you’ve given to each other. But when she turns in your direction—catching you casually observing her, your hands tucked away in your coat’s pocket, grinning like a little kid— it’s back to square one.

Like the very first time.

Yerim takes all the time in the world to wade over from the other side of the pool, her smile growing closer as she approaches you. She lifts her eyebrows, expecting you to make a first move, to which you barely open your mouth, and ultimately only a deep breath, a stilted sigh, comes out.

Well, this is awkward.

Yerim giggles. You’ve previously heard her loud moans and cries, but a genuine laugh—this was your first. She never hops on calls in your group chat, most likely because idol shit, as she often refers to her line of work. Her laughter, her energetic expression—it’s as perfect of a translation to real life as it is online, and embodies the idol Yeri you know on screen.

“How long have you been standing there?” she asks, trying—and failing—to suppress more of her laughter.

Your answer is concise, but doesn’t seem quite right. “A while.”

In reality, about five minutes. You probably won’t be there any longer when she props herself out of the water with her strong elbows. Water cascades down her shapely figure, thicker and meatier than it's ever been, more than what the cameras and pictures present. She’s truly the entire package, through and through.

She walks over to her sunlounger, granting you a nice peek of her ass peeking through her skimpy swimsuit before she wraps herself with a towel. Apart from that, your only other notable observation is that she’s soaking wet, even bundled up. That, and also: she’s barefoot. No sign of slippers or any footwear—she willingly walked on what appears to be scorching cobbled floors.

“I would give you a big hug right now, but you know—” she comments, looking down at her drenched self, pool water endlessly dripping down to her feet. Even if she isn’t soaking wet, you’d still be frozen in place, or even worse, some eagle-eyed stranger or Dispatch reporter catch you in secret and you both end up on national news the very next day.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” you say, trying to dodge Yerim’s eyes. “I left my stuff at the front desk. I should probably go and grab them.”

“Smart.” Yerim sizes you up, nodding in amazement at how you’ve managed to get yourself past the entrance. “See you upstairs, then? Room 1015.”

—————

The difference between you and Yerim couldn’t be any more obvious.

Granted, you’re fresh off a 13 hour flight, followed by an hour's travel from the airport to a five-star hotel in the heart of Seoul. Yerim had all the time in the world to prepare, and yet when she emerges from the bathroom in nothing but a modest bathrobe and her dark hair bundled up, she’s never looked better.

Facing an idol in such a haggard condition, it gives you an underlying feeling of shame. And if you’re being completely honest, if not for your cock, she’d probably be repulsed and call security on you.

But there's no security in sight. Just you, just yeri, the two of you standing in this room - which is, for the most part, quite nice. Multiple bedrooms, a lovely view of the city beneath you, and all sorts of amenities and features you’ll never get to use—you half expect her members to come in later, but perhaps for your sake, you’re better off with just her and her alone.

When Yerim begins to talk, she rambles. She goes on about the status of the next album, discussions about a possible solo debut, her relationships with her members—conversations about topics that you never really had online. It was mostly dirty talk and lewd captions. At best, you knew each other at a surface level, but here she is, sharing everything from her heart like you’ve been lifelong friends since day one.

You let her. She’s as charismatic as what she portrays on screen, and her sass is no different than the private messages she sends you. There’s not a single dull moment whenever Yerim speaks. Though you know her mostly for her body, her personality is what has you sticking around.

You wonder if she feels the same way about you.

“So, how’d you find out about us?” Yerim asks, after blabbering for a while, and you genuinely believe she’d keep going till nightfall. Close enough. Five minutes away from five in the afternoon, and you’d already spent the last hour and a half listening to a personalized podcast from her. You hope she doesn’t notice the plate of bulgogi on the table now completely empty.

“Well, a friend was a K-pop fan and had an extra ticket when you toured here,” you say, casually, slumped on the sofa. “Forgot how long that was—” you pause, “five years ago?”

“Five years? Five years since we went to America?” Yerim appears flabbergasted, face in utter disbelief at the passage of time. The realization causes her to stand from her chair. You’d be too after listening to her drone on endlessly. “Fuck.”

“SM! Give us a fucking world tour already!” she screams, pretending she’s inside the company building and you’re an executive in the room. Watching her snarkiness come to life never ceases to amuse you. You’ll let her go on for as long as she needs to; she’s entertaining in such a unique and charming way that it disarms you.

“Argh, sorry, you know me.” She suddenly stops, faces you, arms crossed, mocking up a pout. “Look at me suddenly losing my shit for no good reason.”

“Are your members used to this?”

That didn’t come out right.

She bats an eyelid. On her face is a mild, blank look of displeasure. That didn’t come out right.

“Used to what?”

“Well, uh, I—I mean—”

You gulp your throat.

“Stop.”

Then, an air of awkward silence. Her eyes quickly scan you, lazing on the sofa.

“Let’s just get to fucking each other right now.”

—————

It isn’t that you’ve forgotten the one purpose you’re there to begin with, it’s that Yerim is very, very impulsive. One moment, upset at her company for doing the bare minimum for her group and her career, the next she’s using you as an outlet to release her frustrations. It’s a good thing your first impression of her was that she was very busty, because otherwise, the other description you had of her was—simply put—bratty.

You’re on your back, plopped against one of the beds, completely caught off-guard by her show of strength. Eyes rolled to the back of your head, you find Yerim already at the bed’s edge, loosening the belt around her waist, quickly disrobing herself within seconds. It’s nothing new; you’ve seen glimpses of her nude figure in pictures, imagined many scenarios where you’ve got your hands on her, but this—to see her completely bare in the flesh—is new.

This is different.

“Just so you know,” you mutter, frantically panting, your heart jumping, as Yerim undresses in front of you, “I haven’t actually had sex before.”

Just like that, the mood instantly changes. She stops. Abruptly.

“What?”

Her mouth drops—again. Might as well stay agape.

You consider retracting your statement. It was a joke, you’d say, something to get her even more aroused, fired up. The sex would be wilder, hotter than anything your fantasies would conjure. Then again, you wouldn’t be in this exact situation if you weren’t so chronically online, simping over pop idols like a kid about to enter puberty.

“I guess that’s to be expected,” she comments, snarkily, grabbing the edges of your pants, daring to rip them off you. “That’s fucking life, baby!”

If you were in her shoes, obsessively waiting for someone with equally unhinged horniness, expressing precisely how you’d get fucked every single time you’d send a remotely lewd photo, you’d feel just as disappointed. You can tell by her partially scornful expression: she’s been fantasizing this moment as much as you have, too. You can’t blame her, but you kind of expected her to anticipate this; after all, you connected in a private group chat that’s been sexualizing her, of all places.

Surely the signs of virginity were right there.

“At least this is real,” she says, leaning her head forward while cupping your growing bulge poking through your trousers. Your tip, at full mast, mere inches away from her chin, instead of a little phone screen. She’s pushing you around, growing slightly more mischievous and uncontrollable with the prospect of throwing someone like you around instead of the opposite. Something her members may have taught and ingrained in her.

It isn’t quite the picture you expected from all the erotic snapshots and clips she’s been sending you. Every photo and video, designed to rouse the filthiest and wildest of your thoughts, was an act, a ruse to let your guard down, to give you this fixed headcanon that you can toss her around like she’s your personal plaything and object of pleasure. Instead, she’s using you for her own desires and wants.

It’s not that you don’t want her to use you and fuck you like this, it’s how completely in control she is that has you reeling, leaves you in a dizzy spell.

“I was gonna let you use my pussy and fuck me to ruin,” she says, playfully rolling her eyes, teasing and mocking. Her hand grips around the denim of your bulge, and it fucking stings. You’re sucking on loose air. “But since we have a virgin over here, I’m gonna do whatever I want.”

The implied connotation is what terrifies you, and no, it isn’t the revelation that Yerim isn’t a virgin—you assumed that much—but the notion that you were gonna have free reign over her cunt that has you contemplating some deep, long forgotten life decisions that set you back years. Their consequences are now starting to show.

She releases her ironclad grip on your pants, frees you of your obstructive clothing, both trousers and boxers down to the floor. Your hard cock springs free, terribly aching, already red and sore from her suffocating clench, and already leaking bursts of precum. The last day and a half hasn’t been kind to your cock.

To add insult to injury, she makes this licking motion with her tongue, aimed at your tip, but relents at the last minute. It leaves your throbbing cock aching harder, without any point of relief. The teasing sight almost renders you unconscious, and sends Yerim into a laughing frenzy.

“Remember when I said I could taste your cock?” she says, chuckling. It’s not playful in the slightest—quite the opposite, in fact. It’s sinister. “I’ll wait a little longer to taste it. Don’t worry.”

Not the most reassuring of words, especially when you’ve got your hands tied—at least, not yet. Actually, you appreciate that she isn’t going to milk your cock dry just yet; when you finally look past the situation at hand, you come to treasure her chest. Her shapely chest, freely bouncing while she bounces her thick body on your lap—keep doing that, you say inside your mind, letting your wandering gaze soak in the unreal scene.

She notices your intrigued eyes, rising and falling in rhythm with her tits. Subtlety was never your intention, and she probably knows from experience, as she says she does. Fixated attention is how she gets herself off, based on how she seems to respond to the lewd messages you’ve sent her in the past, and it shows when she repeats some choice remarks back to your face:

“I’d kill my boss to fuck those tits right now, you’re so goddamn sexy.”

She grips a hand around your throat, another down to the buttons of your shirt, pulling them apart.

“Let me be your personal titty towel.”

Halfway there.

“I’d suck on your tits first, go down on your delicious pussy, then fuck that wet hole of yours three times straight.”

Just like that, you’re both even. Equal in nakedness.

You’re unsure whether it’s the sight of Yerim asserting her dominance over you, tits all up in your face with a devious smirk as she bares you down to your essentials that’s leaving you short on air, or if it’s the hand cautiously coiled around your neck. Either option seems sensible enough. This is how she lives in your head rent free, just being her sassy, sexy self. Even repeating some of the same particularly questionable lewd things you’ve written to her sounds hot with her brazen tone.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” she raises an eyebrow, leaning her head close, as if demanding an answer.

Really, there’s no multiple choice here. Of course you nod.

She rolls her hips upward, inches her body across yours little by little, til her dripping pussy completely shadows your view. Her hand grabs the back of your head, meaty thighs pressing between your face. Now you’re truly suffocating. Even with the rather shameful admission, she rolls her crotch on your lips, expecting you to know what to do. No words, just the expectant grind of her crotch on your face, her wet folds opening up for you to take them.

Then, she begins moaning.

Admittedly, the closest you’ve had to trying out oral is using your phone as an outlet for your tongue whenever she sends a boob photo. Thankfully, your inexperience doesn’t show when you first dip your tongue inside her folds, getting your first taste of pussy. Saltier than you expected, but fuck, you’d be lying if you think it wasn’t completely intoxicating—everything you hoped for, and more.

It incites a few expressive reactions from Yerim—some loud, others quieter—with the end result usually a sharper, deeper grind of her waist on your face, splaying her cunt for you to devour. You’ve got one hand pressed on her ass, holding her plump flesh down while the other is at her mercy, pulled by hers, forced to squeeze her breast. You won’t complain. Not when her cries of pleasure motivate you to push yourself harder.

You repeat this addictive cycle, stretch moments into minutes, minutes into hours. Even when you’ve drained her completely, you’ll still be craving for more of her; that’s how hungry she’s made you. Your tongue meets her clit, and it draws out this especially sharp whine that she’s never hit once. Not on a track. Not anywhere. She swears up a storm, juxtaposed between soft, gentle pleas of “yes, more, and you’re so good.”

In return, you take more of her, soak yourself in the continuous downpour of her slick juices freely flowing all over your mouth and tongue. As her pleasure escalates, her fingers tighten their grasp on your head, grab your tousled hair. You add soft, intimate kisses between streaks of licking her folds, and they send the young idol writhing, shaking atop you. Her words have been reduced to nothing but short, needy bursts of “please.” Even in this uncontrollable state, she gyrates her hips around you, rhythm steady, but more determined than ever to let herself go.

By the way her pussy throbs, you’re certain she’s a few critical points away from climax. It doesn’t change your plans, not one bit. You continue to lap at her sensitive folds, bask in her intoxicating heat, purposefully teasing her clit. She won’t demand that you end her —not this quickly, not when you’ve magically learned the art of giving oral to a woman under short notice.

You slowly work her through it. Your tongue dives into her slick entrance, deeper than it's ever been so far. The overpowering sensations send ripples that reach even the foundations of the bed, unlike anything it’s ever felt. Even in the wild throes of bodily pleasure, Yerim has enough willpower to stay in character, delivering a demand in her usual playful, fast talking tone. “Please do it! I’m going to cum!”

You contemplate the thought, completely drunk in her divine taste yourself, but you oblige.

Your tongue sticks to her bud, and it causes this instantaneous, elaborate chain reaction. Yerim cries a sharp cry, waves of orgasm washing down all over her body. She stops in her tracks, completely rigid, mouth wide open, and this torrential gush of slick and orgasm swamps you, drowning you so deep that it's nearly fatal. Her thighs involuntarily clench tighter, too, and you’re temporarily trapped in your own pocket dimension, impossible to clean with all the cum left behind, especially on the sheets.

The most surprising observation from her orgasm is how suddenly calm it becomes. Only the sound of your tongue licking her clean can be heard, and it’s nothing but a gentle rustle. She hangs her head up, face completely flushed, catching needed oxygen in her lungs, letting the aftermath of her climax pass over.

While her breath normalizes, she lifts herself up, moves to the side of the bed. In her wake, she’s left behind a drenched lake of slick around your face, leaking down to the muddled sheets beneath you.

“Well,” she says, panting and pausing for air. “There goes the other bed.”

It doesn’t take rocket science to figure out what she meant. Even when you’re still mindlessly occupied by the sticky residue around your lips. You let out this muffled exhale, designed to be a laugh, but it backfires in your face. Amused, she giggles on your behalf.

“Not bad.” Yerim smiles at you. Charming and cute, a contrast to what had just transpired. “I thought you said you never had sex?”

It takes you a moment before you answer back, “I haven’t. You just taste really good.”

“You still have some left on the edges of your face,” she comments, her eyes mesmerized by how much she’s cum all over you. “Let me help you clean that up.”

And she helps, but not in a conventional way. She lifts you from the bed by your torso, then submerges you again, this time at the mercy of her bosom. You’ve got your arms wrapped around her waist while you’re kissing and sucking on her Yerim’s tits, not exactly tidying up, but creating a larger mess that no amount of tongue cleaning can resolve.

In the meantime, she whispers in your ear some of your more—questionable—comments:

“They need to give her a solo debut with a very sexy concept and trust me, I’ll be the guy who breaks the world record for jerking off if they do that.”

“It must feel heavy to carry them all the time. Let me lend a hand to you.”

“The only thought I had inside my mind when I saw her is every member would milk her 3x a day so that they don’t have to go outside and buy milk to eat cereal to the point they would just drink it from the source.”

You stop. You give her this strange, confused look. Even you couldn’t believe you said that.

“Did I actually say that?”

“Yes!” she replies, quick and straightforward, unable to hide her enthusiasm, while brushing your hair. “Not gonna lie, that sent me to the floor. I was laughing so hard, Irene ran in to check up on me!”

To make things worse, she flashes this wide, toothy grin that makes you regret your life choices.

“God. I don’t wanna drink anymore.”

“Hey, if there’s any consolation, you wouldn’t be sucking on my tits and eating me out now if you never made that comment,” she says, caressing your chin and giving you a peck on the lips. As if it’s still not one of the most out of pocket comments you’ve ever made about anyone, let alone a celebrity—and you weren’t fully yourself.

“Relax. Don’t think about it too much.” Yerim pushes you back down to the bed, crawls atop you, meeting your lips again for an intimate kiss. Your hard cock, which has been left unattended for quite a while, captures your attention—and especially hers. “Lean back for me, will you?”

You comply. Involuntarily, your legs straighten, but Yerim pushes them apart, places herself at center view, seemingly ready to take you in her mouth. It makes sense; a woman with a mouth that runs like hers probably only stops when there’s cock stuffed inside them. The theory proves to be plausible when she gives your sensitive tip a delicate, yet dangerous lick, her eyes glinting at you with renewed vigor and lust.

“I told you I’d have a taste of that cock,” she says, half smug, half seductive, gloating with her brows. Your tenseness slightly recedes—until you realize your cock’s moving past her lips, in the direction of the space between her cleavage. “I didn’t say I wanted to suck on it.”

And she was right—not once has she ever expressed her desire to choke, gag, deepthroat on it.

You grit your teeth, watching your cock disappear between her shapely tits, with Yerim personally making sure you comfortably fit like a glove. You fold. It’s snug. Hot. Breathtaking.

“Fuck, Yeri,” you mutter, closing your eyes as her inviting warmth leaves you weak in the knees, trembling. You don’t realize you’ve used her stage name over her real name. “God—”

“Does this feel like everything you wanted?” she asks, tone sultry and triumphant. A little slide up sends you into a frenzy.

You nod—even though there’s no other available options. The erotic image in front of you is permanently seared into your head: Kim Yerim, popular idol and to an extend, your ‘friend with benefits,’ grinning like a maniac, slowly fucking your cock between her tits, coated with your saliva, sweat, and copious amounts of precum. To think your little crude messages on a random forum would have such long term and drastic consequences such as this.

Not that you’d want to make sense of it all, especially when she gets into a rhythm. Sliding her breasts up and down, she’s delicate, intentional, and masochistic; you’re on the receiving end of how she felt when you were slowly eating her out. She’s dangerous, teetering between the line where your cock can be safe between her bosom and where she can break you in half. You’re already falling apart—and fast.

“Holy shit, Yerim. Fuck.”

Each word you deliver is long and drawn out, especially the profanities. Heavenly music to her ears. She’s out of reach where you can pull by her hair, so you settle for the sheets instead. Your gaze wanders, travels everywhere but in her direction, because you don’t need to see the tortuous scene happening between your legs. Looking at the descending sun, this is probably the last time you’ll see the sun set in your life.

Her eyes challenge you to look at anywhere from her. Panting frantically, you find yourself at the mercy of Yerim’s whims, your cock fading and swelling into view, sticky and wet, gushing cum all over her tits. The sight drives you further mad, has you making sounds that have never been recorded—ever. She takes you in, delights in your suffering, eager for you to say the magic words.

“Ready to cum? I know you want to cum.”

Even under duress, you’re not ready to fold just yet. There’s a little stubbornness inside you fighting back, pulling all the stops to keep you from surrendering to Yerim’s demands. You close your eyes, grip on the sheets even tighter, control your breathing, but it’s too little too late. You can only do so much with two hands.

“Cum for me.”

You hold onto a particularly deep breath, desperate to cling to whatever dying vestiges of control there is left, but your fate has already been sealed from the moment you’ve allowed your cock to enter her chest.

“Yerim, I—”

The exhale you release is the most relieving and satisfying. With it, comes out a rope of thick, creamy cum splashed all over her neck and chest. The aching, violent sensation doesn’t stop; more seed spills between the warmth of her cleavage. In one fell swoop, you feel all of your energy sapped from you, leaving you completely weak and powerless.

In the gap between your climax and post-orgasm haze, you wonder if she’ll take some of your cum in her mouth, with the way she looks at your cock as it throbs beneath her chin. No. She lets it drip down her perfect naked body with a sticky white sheen that glows under the natural light piercing through the hotel’s window.

“Just like that, hm,” she comments, casually flicking the last of your withering orgasm and cum with her wrist. She lathers the slick on her fingers on her shoulder, then places some into her mouth for a taste.

After you regain a semblance of normalcy—after Yerim’s finished entertaining herself with your cum, staring at her coated body and fingers with curious interest—she rests her elbows on your knees, in the process of relearning how to bend. You sink back against the headrest, watch as the fading sun glimmers on an idol like her, destined to shine for every occasion possible—on the stage and under the afterglow of sex. She smiles, bright and wide, taking you in, as you are.

There’s something brewing, especially in the tender few minutes that follow. Something special, something more than just a spark.

“So—” Yerim runs a sticky finger on your knee, dangerously close to stirring up your cock again. “You wanna try anal with me next?”

You pause. Widening your eyes, staring back with a look of disbelief. Just when you’re about to open your mouth to reply, she adds:

“Kidding. You do know that you’re gonna have to delete those tweets and comments, right? If they find out you’re here, you’re fucked. And I mean, a thousand times worse than now.”

—————

(A/N: This was an absolute joy to write. The nature of the request meant I could go very meta with it. About time we get a proper Red Velvet full album, so perfect timing! If you're able to figure out some of the references and easter eggs, then you, my friend, are too engrossed in the Tumblr K-pop male reader smut lore. Thank you for reading!)

(P.S. If you want to have your own story/idol written, you can ask for a commission :D)

#smut #kpop smut #yeri #red velvet

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vivwritesfics · 6 months ago

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Ben's mother

Rhett's girlfriend has a child. She had him before she met Rhett, but he still made them a part of his family (which is fine bc the Abbotts love them).

Set outside of the events of the show where everyone is thriving (except Perry he doesn't deserve to thrive)

"Ganma!"

Cecilia Abbott turned away from the lunch she was preparing to catch the young boy running towards him.

He was so small, Cecilia was glad she could still pick him up and place him on her hip. She dreaded him getting any bigger.

He wrapped his arms around her neck as Cecilia looked towards the boys mother. "Hey," she said to Cecilia with a grin as she came over to grab Ben from her arms. "Sorry, he ran out ahead of me."

Cecilia waved her off as she sat Ben on the table. "Oh, you know it's no problem, honey," she said, dropping what she was doing to get Ben some snacks. "What have you guys been up to?" She asked, but she was talking directly to Ben.

Ben filled Cecilia in on the dog he'd met that morning as his mother looked out of the window, looking across the land. It was so incredibly impressive, she couldn't believe this was where her partner had grown up.

"They should be coming in for lunch soon," Cecilia said and returned to making lunch for everybody, all while still talking to Ben. She was so good with him, the entire Abbott family was. "Do you guys want anything?"

She and Ben had been apart of the Abbott family for so long now that she couldn't imagine a time before them.

"Ganma," Ben began as he swung his legs. "Is Amy here?"

Ben loved Amy like a big sister. If he wasn't running to Cecilia or Royal (he loved when Royal had a chance to take him to see the cows), he was running to Amy to play toys with her or watch a movie with her.

"Sorry, sweetie," said Cecilia as she gave Ben one of the juice boxes she kept in the fridge just for him. "She'll be back soon."

All of the Abbott's came back soon. Amy came running in first. She sat at the kitchen table and Ben sat beside her as Cecilia placed their lunch in front of them.

The boys walked in, Perry first. He kissed Amy on the head and took his usual seat. Royal was next, he sat at the head of the table, but wasn't given much time to rest from his morning of work as Ben began talking at him.

Talking. And talking. And talking. And talking.

Cecilia was ganma, and Royal was ganpa.

Last but not least, Rhett walked in. His eyes landed on her and he immediately strode over. "Hey," she said, but he just pressed his lips to her own.

"Eww!" The kids called as she smiled against Rhett's lips.

He smiled back, hand on his hips. "I missed you," he said with that sexy deep voice of his.

"I missed you too," she said and played with his hair, knocking his cap slightly. For just a second, they forgot anybody else was in the room with them, consumed by each other.

Cecilia placed a plate down for Rhett and he finally pulled away from her. "Hey, little man," he said as he took off his cap and placed it on Ben's head.

"Rhett!" He called. "Can we go see the horses today?"

The smile Rhett wore turned sad as he sat down opposite Ben. Ben had never called him dad. He called Cecilia and Royal 'ganma and ganpa', but he'd never called Rhett dad.

But Rhett was his dad. Ben's real dad had never been in his life, and Rhett stepped up from that moment he met them.

The frazzled, young, single mother in the grocery store dealing with a screaming nine month old. Rhett offered to help and she was only too grateful to accept.

He pushed the shopping cart for her and helped her to load her groceries into the car. He'd gotten her phone number after that and the rest was history.

"Marry her," his mother said when Rhett had confided in her about it. It was just them on the porch as Ben and his mother slept in his bed. It was a tight squeeze, but Rhett loved it. "Then you'd really be his dad."

The smile Rhett wore was somewhat unsure as he leaned back, hands in his hoodie pocket. "I will," he'd said to Cecilia. "I just don't know when."

That had been months since that conversation. Rhett had bought a ring the very next day, he just hadn't given it to her yet.

More than anything Rhett couldn't wait to become Ben's dad. Of course, to Ben's mother, to his girl, he already was Ben's dad. She didn't need some fancy ring to prove that.

They already were a family, but she couldn’t wait to become an Abbott.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott oneshot #rhett abbott fluff #rhett abbott x you #lewis pullman #outer range #outer range imagine #outer range x you #outer range x reader

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mellowsadistic · 8 months ago

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The Magician's Game - Chapter 12

Abby didn’t enjoy her first morning as a woman with no bladder or bowel control. She let out an ear-piercing shriek when she woke up to find the big-breasted ‘Nanny’ from the day before bending over her with a finger slipped inside the leg-band of her soaking wet night-time diaper.

“Don’t be frightened, sweetie,” the woman cooed. “Nanny’s just checking your nappy. It looks like someone made lots of wee-wees during beddy-byes, didn’t she? Yes she did! Yes she did! Wittle Abby-wabby’s got a very soggy bum-bum!”

Abby felt herself burning with humiliation. “You can’t tawk to me wike dat!” she squealed, sitting up in bed and feeling her clammy wet diaper squishing unpleasantly beneath her. It was only then that she realised her thumb was in her mouth. She yanked it out at once.

The woman tittered. “You’re a big baby who can’t even wipe her own bottom, sweetie,” she said. “I can talk to you however I like.” Her motherly expression turned a little more sinister. “And if I don’t like your tone, I could leave you in that nasty nappy all day, no matter how wet and messy you make it. Is that what you want?”

Abby went cold. She couldn’t change herself. If she didn’t do what this bitch said then she’d have to stay in this disgusting thing for who knows how long – and she needed to keep her mind on the challenge today, not on the state of her pants. This would be the final one, the most important of all, her last and only chance to get back to normal and avoid the Magician’s sick, twisted punishments. And if she won, she’d get three wishes. Anything she wanted!

Her lower lip stuck itself out in a pout. “Sowwy Nanny,” she mumbled meekly.

Nanny smirked. “Good girl. Now let’s get that yucky-wucky diapee off your cute little tushy!”

Abby’s second nappy change as an adult was no less humiliating than her first. Nanny took her sweet time, making sure to coo at her in sickeningly sweet baby talk and tickle her tummy at random intervals. “P-U!” she cried theatrically, pinching her nose as she held up Abby’s sodden, yellowed diaper. “This icky thing is absolutely soaked! What a little pee-pee pants you are, Abby! I’d never have guessed you used to be a sexy, grown-up woman. You look just like a smelly little baby to me!”

Abby cringed and clenched her eyes shut, trying to block out the sounds of Nanny’s taunts as the older woman got to work wiping her clean with a pack of baby wipes.

“And here’s a nice, new nappy,” Nappy said happily, slipping one under Abby’s bottom, “for the next time you need to make a pee-pee, or drop a stinky load in your pants.”

Abby couldn’t prevent a pathetic, whimpering sob from leaving her lips as Nanny finished taping a fresh diaper around her waist. But at least it was over. Nanny helped her off the bed and got her dressed – tugging a pair of white, semi-translucent tights over her bulging diaper-butt and pulling a tight pink t-shirt over her bare chest. Her tits were constrained almost painfully in the tiny thing. A pair of frilly socks, black schoolgirl shoes, and a bonnet later, and Abby was fully dressed for the day.

Nanny escorted her, toddling, to the kitchen, where Becky and the Magician were already seated. In front of Becky, and in front of the large highchair that was awaiting Abby, were two enormous bowls full of baby food. Feeling sick, but knowing there was much worse at stake, Abby allowed herself to be sat in the highchair and fed the bland-tasting mush. She barely even fussed as Nanny pushed spoonful after spoonful against her lips, smearing her lower face. She was too busy worrying about what the final challenge would be.

Becky, too, was nervous. She spooned her meal into her mouth by herself. At least she didn’t need someone to feed her, she thought, looking up at the mess the busty woman was getting all over her fellow contestant’s pretty face. She didn’t want to end up like that. It was bad enough being incontinent. She turned red as she remembered how she’d woken up that morning, right in the middle of messing her nappy. How could she ever think of herself as an adult if she was doing that all the time?! She couldn’t stand the thought of spending even one more day in diapers! She didn’t want to be an overgrown, pants-filling baby anymore! She wouldn’t, she couldn’t, spend the rest of her life waddling around in smelly Pampers like some horrid brat in daycare. She forced herself to get through the bowl of baby food, even knowing it would bring about a messy nappy sooner rather than later – it would be the last, she told herself firmly.

Once Becky was finished eating, and Nanny was slipping the last few spoonfuls of mush into Abby’s mouth, the Magician got to his feet. His handsome smile was more terrifying than ever. “Alright girls,” he said, the awful bright light dancing once again in his eyes. “It’s time for the fourth and final challenge. Three silly young ladies have already headed off to live their new, and much altered lives, and now it’s time to find out which of you will be joining them in their fates, and which will earn herself three wishes. I’m sure I don’t have to remind you that unless you win, the changes you have at the moment will be permanent.” He savoured the last word, and Abby and Becky both shivered. “The final challenge,” he continued, “is very simple. The two of you will have a competition to see who can act the most babyish over the next few hours. The one who I decide has been the silliest, most ridiculous overgrown baby will win my little game.”

Abby and Becky stared at him wide-eyed, their mouths open. They could only win their adulthood back by outcompeting the other at being a stupid baby?!

The Magician cocked his head at them. “What are you waiting for?” he asked, grinning.

The two young women looked at one another, and then Becky immediately got off her chair and dropped to her hands and knees, babbling in meaningless baby talk. “Goo goo gah bah bah!” she prattled, dribbling down her chin. She started crawling over to the Magician.

Feeling mortified, Abby imitated Becky and hastily extracted herself from her highchair and sank onto all fours too. “Gah gah buh buh buh!” she babbled, drooling down her own chin and crawling towards the Magician herself. She could see the evil satisfaction in his face as he watched them approach.

Becky reached him first. She plopped back on her diapered bottom and looked up at him with her best, desperate, puppy-dog eyes. She raised her hands into the air and made little clenching movements. “Up!” she squealed. “Uppies, Dada!”

The Magician laughed delightedly. He reached down and, with surprising strength, lifted the babbling baby-woman into his arms, settling her on his hip and holding her tightly against himself. Then he looked appraisingly down at Abby, who had just reached his feet.

Abby sat back on her nappy, and was about to mimic Becky again when she stopped. That wouldn’t work. She couldn’t just do whatever Becky was doing – she’d lose for sure that way. She’d have to do something else. A loud, childish temper tantrum seemed like a good idea, as if she was jealous of Becky getting held instead of her. The sick freak would undoubtedly like that. She hated the Magician. She hated him more than anyone else in the world for what he’d done to her, for what he was making her do. But he was dangerous, and she’d play along with his perverted fantasies if it meant winning his insane game. She was a little girl who wanted her Daddy’s undivided attention, she told herself, and that stupid little brat Becky was stealing him away from her!

She hardly had to pretend. The changes the Magician had made to her the day before had ruined her ability to control her emotions like an adult. Angry that Becky was already beating her, and terrified of the consequences if she lost, the tears came in no time at all. Her bottom lip wobbled beneath her thumb, and Abby started to wail. She scrunched up her beautiful face, tears pouring down her cheeks, sobbing hysterically and taking great heaving breaths as she pounded her free hand petulantly against the floor. “WAAAAAAAAAH!” she wailed. “I WANT MY DADA!”

Suddenly, she felt his powerful arm scooping her up, supporting her under her thickly padded bottom and holding her close against his chest, just as he was doing with Becky. “Shhhh,” the Magician hushed her gently, and Abby actually felt a pleasant tingle run down her spine at the unexpected gentleness of his voice. “Shhhh, it’s okay, baby. There, there… Daddy’s here, little one. Daddy’s got you.” The Magician carried them out of the kitchen and further into the house, into a brightly decorated playroom littered with baby toys.

He set them down on the soft, carpeted floor, and Abby immediately got to work. With some difficulty, she yanked off her tight t-shirt and started bouncing and shaking her boobies, giggling like she’d found her new favourite toys. She could feel the Magician’s eyes on her, and she blew a dribbly raspberry that made a line of drool to spill down onto her bare breasts.

Becky started to strip as well, but her adult clothes were harder to remove while she was sitting on the floor. An idea occurred to her, and she looked up, pouting at the Magician. “Wanna be nakie giwl!” she cried.

Chuckling, the Magician knelt down and started taking off Becky’s jeans and tank top, until she too was dressed in nothing but her nappy, her perky tits wobbling stupidly on her chest as she crawled around the room playing with the infantile toys.

They played for some time, working as hard as they could to keep the looks of childish idiocy on their faces while they bashed blocks together, shook rattles, and snuggled with teddy bears. Abby didn’t even have to fake it – after only a few shakes of a rattle she was staring at it avidly, cooing and gurgling, utterly entranced. It sounded so pretty and tinkly! Pretty, tinkly sound… She might have sat there all day playing with her rattle, had she not gotten the sudden, overpowering urge to shove it in her mouth. She came to her senses the moment before it happened, blushing scarlet at the thought of how enamoured she’d been by this stupid baby toy (she had to get back to normal), but there was nothing she could do to stop her body cramming the rattle between her lips and sucking on it enthusiastically. Her eyes rolled back into her head with pleasure.

Right at that moment, Abby’s bladder released without warning, and she felt her diaper getting soggier and soggier beneath her bottom as she pissed into it helplessly. It felt revolting, but she made sure to keep a blank, babyish look on her face as the front of her nappy discoloured. The Magician was surely watching for any sign of un-babyish behaviour, and babies didn’t care if they went pee-pee. She popped the rattle out of her mouth and let out another stream of ridiculous baby babble. But then, as she started crawling over to a large, fluffy teddy bear, something else happened. Something more than pee. For the second time in her adult life, Abby’s bowel’s rumbled into action beyond her control. Before she could really register what was about to happen, it was already happening. Her mouth opened in a perfect ‘o’ shape as an enormous yucky mess filled her diaper, making her padded pants sag halfway down her thighs with the weight of her load.

Meanwhile, a few feet away, exactly the same thing was happening to Becky. She was more used to the sensation of her pants filling with poop without warning, but it didn’t make it any less disgusting. Still, as poo-poo filled her nappy, she was able to keep her face relatively blank and dopey, as though she’d barely even realised what had happened. A grown woman who couldn’t even tell when she messed herself – the Magician would love that, she was sure.

Although she was trying as hard as she could, unlike Becky, Abby wasn’t able to keep the look of revulsion off her face. She knew the Magician must have seen. Babies didn’t think sitting in dirty diapers was disgusting. They didn’t care. She had to do something to make up for her mistake, and quickly. She had no idea when the challenge might end! Putting on her best bratty, mischievous face, Abby grinned up at the Magician. She hated him with all her heart. She knew she would never be able to look at herself the same way in the mirror after what she was about to do, but if it meant avoiding a terrible, terrible fate, it would be worth it. She sat back firmly on her full nappy, feeling the horrible mess in her pants squish against her bottom. It took all her self-control not to gag. Then, with a moronic giggle, she started bouncing up and down on her bum, squealing loudly and clapping her hands.

Becky watched, but didn’t move. She could see the Magician looking at her, waiting to see whether she’d copy Abby. But she couldn’t… she couldn’t do that. She just couldn’t stand it! The mess beneath her bottom was so disgusting! She couldn’t bounce up and down on it like some mucky baby! Those were the worst kind of diapers she had to change at daycare, the ones where the awful little urchins decided to make the mess in their pants even messier, and make the job of cleaning them up an absolute nightmare for her. The other daycare workers, the stupid women who’d chosen to look after smelly, snot-nosed brats as their whole career, actually thought it was cute when the babies “made bouncies”. But Becky found it nauseating, and the idea of doing it herself was out of the question.

“All right, little ones,” the Magician said suddenly. “I’ve made my decision.”

They both stopped what they were doing and looked up at him fearfully. The Magician took each of them by the hand and pulled them to their feet. The two women stood there, tits out, legs pushed awkwardly apart by their full, sagging nappies, waiting for his judgement. The evil man looked at Abby, who felt her stomach lurch horribly, and then he turned his gaze to Becky. Abby was trembling. Was he going to tell Becky that she’d lost, or that she’d won?

“Sorry Becky,” the Magician said, “but I’ve decided little Abby was the most babyish, and that means, unfortunately, that you’re the loser.”

Abby took a deep breath. Wonderful relief was flooding through her body.

Becky, however, was shaking. “No…” she whispered, so quietly that Abby barely heard her.

“I don’t know what you were planning to do with your life, Becky,” said the Magician pleasantly, advancing on the quivering girl. “Maybe you were planning to go to law school, or train as a doctor, or maybe you just wanted to live an average life, but I’m afraid whatever it was, it won’t be happening now. You’ll be spending the rest of your days as a diaper-dependent adult toddler, a grown woman who stomps about with a smelly, loaded nappy swinging about between her legs. You’ll be dependent on real adults to check and change you, of course… and I know just the place to send you.” He waved his hand lazily, and a canary yellow frock with a smiling cartoon bee on the front appeared on Becky’s body.

Slowly, stiffly, Becky looked down at her new clothes, and recognised the uniform of the Buzzy Bees baby class at the daycare where she worked. Her poopy diaper was peeking out of the bottom.

Becky lost her mind. She started screaming at the top of her lungs, clutching her head in her hands, her eyes wide and horrified.

Abby stared at the woman in horror, but the Magician just chuckled, as if the sight of the twenty-year-old woman’s mental breakdown was merely amusing to him. Becky looked utterly mad. She was screaming inarticulately, and staring straight ahead of her, as though she could see something they couldn’t – as if she was looking at her own future laid out in front of her, a life of stinky nappies and baby food and naptimes, a life stuck in nursery school forever, trapped in the one place she’d wanted desperately to get away from. In a way, she was getting what she wanted – she’d never have to change another dirty diaper again. She’d be too busy filling them. Becky screamed and screamed and screamed.

“That’s enough of your little tantrum, missy,” said the Magician, still sounding amused. “Time for you to go and join your new peers.” He snapped his fingers, and Becky vanished.

#mellowsadistic

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lilystyles · 9 months ago

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when not in rome.

a @lilystyles blurb!

my masterlist & no strings attached masterlist & blurbs masterlist

authors note idk this was a random thing i wrote at 2AM because i just missed them, i am still working on style so don't worry that should be out soon. also this is set way before no strings, i love writing about them in their previous moments!

brief description harry surprises y/n at her graduation (also listen to love of my life by h whilst readinggg)

warnings! angsty? fluffy? drunk y/n and harry (2.1k)

younger!lhh!nostrings!h x reader

* * * * *

SIX YEARS BEFORE

University has a funny way of making you feel like you might never cross the finish line. Y/n like everyone else had multiple days where she would just sob and scream from the stress of it all. Exams were totally a torture device.

When Y/n graduated with her first degree before deciding to write her thesis Harry surprised her.

He’d been touring the world with One Direction for months now and she hadn’t seen him since Paris the year before, when he’d surprised her by flying her to join them in their Paris show and they’d had a wild few drunken nights that she felt blurred the lines of friendship into something more.

But after their few days, when the champagne ran out, and she came back home, she sobered and realised that nothing would ever happen between them. And if you spent a few nights with Harry in a limo drinking champagne and dealing with his wandering hands you too would fall for him. Just a bit. It's only natural.

She missed him, though, loads. He was one of her best friends after all.

Around a month ago they phoned each other, it was late for her and the morning for him, she’d been studying and they talked for hours catching up till the sky turned bright for her and her eyes drooped shut. The time between their phone calls had grown longer and longer now, and she missed him. She’d mentioned that she was graduating soon and that they were both supposed to be graduating if he’d stayed in Uni. She remembers them staying up late at parties discussing their futures and how post-graduation Harry was insistent that they’d still be roommates. She realised now that their dream definitely wasn’t a possibility anymore.

He’d told her that instead of being there graduating like they’d suspected he was going to be, he was in Rome at some fashion show gala thing, and his date was this sexy model named Rosalie who had her sex tape leaked a couple of months ago. She was happy for him, but a part of her couldn’t help but be disappointed. She felt like he was drifting away from her every day, but she couldn’t find in herself to be cross with him. He was swept up by the fame of it all, and how on earth could she be mad that he was literally a rockstar? She knew that he was still Harry and she was still Y/n but they weren’t Harry and Y/n anymore. Not like before.

And honestly, she’d probably leave everything and everyone behind, party all night, and sleep with sexy models too if she had the chance to be famous. But she couldn’t sing for shit. So instead she did what she was doing, and shoved her nose in a book rather than in lines off a bathroom sink, and she was rather content with the peacefulness of it all.

All thoughts of Harry were swept away from her mind when she walked across the stage in the grande hall. She was finally graduating! Thank god! She thought. She had a sash that showed she was an honours student, and she was blooming with pride, when they called her name her list of achievements was longer than the four painful years she’d spent studying in their grande libraries. She was so glad to shake the hand of one of her favourite professors and leave, the next year ahead she planned to travel and work overseas, she was excited about that.

But honestly, she was even more excited to get absolutely shit-faced at the graduation after-ball party. She found herself a few pints down, sitting by the edge of one of the fountains, when she nearly fell in at the absolutely shocking sight in front of her.

There was just no way it could be true. I mean he was in Rome, and she was drunk in London. She’d seen photos on her Twitter of him wrapping his tattooed arms around that Rosalie model girl, so how could he be here in London just like that? It was not real, surely. She must be hallucinating and the second-hand smoke of all the spliffs had finally got to her brain. But suddenly the man turned around and Jesus Christ it was him. It was Harry. His eyes were pinched as he searched the crowd and when he finally saw her they lit up, all green like a forest, and his mouth kicked up into that devilish grin of his.

He saw her dumb-struck expression and laughed softly walking toward his best friend. He was dressed in a suit jacket like everyone else, and since they were all drunk none of them noticed it was the Harry Styles of the One Direction AKA the biggest band in the world. To them, he was just some random twat who just graduated too.

His hair had grown all long and curly, and he just looked so much more like a man than when he’d left. Had he gotten taller? More strong? The arms of his jacket strained and Y/n sighed at the sight of him.

She didn't think she'd changed much, but Harry thought she looked even more beautiful than before, if possible.

When he stood right in front of her, her mouth was still wide in utter shock. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

He laughed. “Is that all you hafta’ say? Come on, hug your best friend!”

She sprang up from her seat and the silky long dress, which was a teal blue colour. All smooth and tight on her skin was hiked up slightly. Her gown and cap were long gone, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and shoulders. He lifted her up off the floor and spun them around.

She smelt like peaches and sweetness, and God, he could've stayed holding her for weeks.

She giggled and felt her face hurt from smiling so big. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you!”

When he placed her down, his hands did not leave the curve of her waist. “Surprise, babe.”

“What the- shit- I thought you were in Rome! How’d you even get here?” She asked

He smiled. “I was, got a flight this afternoon. It was the only one coming home, sorry for missing the graduation part.”

She just smiled up at him. “You’re crazy.”

He shook his head landing a hand on her shoulder. “I knew how important it was to you, and I missed you. Sue me.”

She laughed, eyes welling with slight tears. Maybe he wasn’t drifting too far from her after all. “Oh, god, don’t make me cry, you know how I get after a few pints, H.”

He laughed, arms outstretched for her to cuddle him. “Aw, pet, c’mere.”

She smacked his chest playfully but cuddled him nonetheless. “Let’s go get royally fucked, mate,” She whispered and they pulled apart, hands interlocking as she lead him off to one of the pubs where everyone was buying drinks.

It was called The Ducks Nuts.

A few of her mates were inside. Ones Harry didn’t know, but she’d already spent a good portion of the night with them. So she told them her old friend had surprised her and they’d be here and there.

Harry ordered them some shots and eventually the night was just a blur of hands touching each other, as they got so drunk Y/n felt her world spinning. They’d hopped around multiple different pubs and bars and Y/n was so tired. Her heels itched her feet with pain and she ripped them off, along with her bag. As they walked with little purpose she threw her things at him and began to dance in the middle of the road.

Harry was holding her things as she danced in the street showing her best Elton John impression, and he silently decided that was what made her so perfect. She was just herself. And he loved that about her, he loved everything about her.

He laughed and told her what a realistic impression it was, and how they’d met at some award show to back up that comment. She was infinitely jealous, she loved Elton.

On her way back toward him she landed in his arms after losing her footing he shook his head at her.

“You are very drunk, Lovie. Aren't ya'?" He said, in a soft tone one that made her tummy turn in flips.

She sighed as they walked in a direction with no destination in mind. “You aren’t drunk enough, you need to get on my level.”

He noticed her shiver under his arm and quickly ripped his coat off. It swallowed her form and she smiled gratefully hugging the coat around herself. It felt like a warm embrace, and that smell filled her nose and suddenly she was home in her old flat with him, home in Holmes Chapel, home with him. Just home.

“Smells good.” She giggled as she sniffed the shoulder pad, her cheek brushing against the soft material all dog-like. “N’ soft too.”

“Why thanks, it’s Gucci.” He replied.

She rolled her eyes. “Come on then, money-bags, let’s get you as drunk as me.”

They strolled into a tavern near her flat and drank so much tequila that they had to practically carry each other home.

As Harry looked up at the stars and moon, feeling the cool air nip her skin he sighed. He hadn’t gotten this drunk, and been this happy in such a long time. He was giggling contently, as she leaned into him and he silently wished that the night would never end.

He never wanted his time with her to end either. He loved spending time with her, whether they were on an adventure or doing nothing at all. Y/n made it worthwhile.

When they reached the shitbox of a flat she lived in Harry followed calmly behind her, and when one of her neighbours spat a comment about drunken youths he sighed, “I wish you would’ve taken up my offer,”

She looked up at him as she played with the jammy door that never seemed to open on the first try. Shoving her shoulder into it as she managed to finally wedge it open, stumbling inside ungracefully.

And with a roll of her eyes, she ushered him inside. “There is zero chance I’d let my all-of-sudden bazillionaire rockstar friend buy me a flat, just cause he can afford shoes worth more than my entire life savings. Anyway, how could I ever pay it back? I have two p to my name and a packet of noodles in my possessions, Harry.”

He laughed. “Think of it as a graduation present then,”

She sighed. “Just shut up and sit down, and I’ll get some wine.”

It was almost 4AM now, and neither cared. They were beyond drunk, but Y/n missed him and if force-feeding him wine would get him to spend a whole 24 hours with her, she totally would.

When she sat down with two mugs spilling with a cherry red wine, that was the cheapest shit she’d ever bought, Harry laughed. Her wobbly legs forced her to land awkwardly on one thigh practically on top of his. He smiled, one that showed his kind eyes.

Green pools of emerald she wished to swim in for eternity. She laughed at the thought, she really got poetic when she was drunk, huh?

“God, remind me to get you drunk more often.” He whispered.

She sighed. “Oh shut up, and fill me in on life then. Who are you shagging?”

He looked at her pointedly. “Who are you shagging?”

A blush crept up her neck, and suddenly the only secret she had kept from him was threatening to slip past her drunken red-stained lips.

“None of your business, but there’s this hot guy in my physics who I would totally shag,”

He laughed, but underneath it, he felt a jealousy creep up his spine, he knew he had no right since he’d been balls deep in two Italian models this morning, turns out threesomes are a really good cure for hangovers by the way. But despite that, he felt an itch he couldn’t scratch that resembled something pretty close to jealousy.

“What’s he like?” Harry asked.

She shrugged. “Dunno, tall, glasses, got that whole nerdy silent thing going for him.”

“That’s what you like then, silent types?” He asked, running a hand through his long curls, and she reached out to play with one.

She shook her head, and said distractedly, “I don’t know.”

“Makes sense why you never dated me then.”

During primary school, Harry dated every girl in their class including Daisy and Penny, except Y/n who told him she didn’t fancy him. It was an ongoing topic of discussion between them. Why wasn't he good enough? He always asked.

She laughed at that comment. “I know you too well for that, and I get the unfiltered you, and I lived with you which was basically like being married to you. We bickered too much to ever date, Haz.”

He looked at her with hooded eyes, and for some reason that stung, but trying to be light-hearted he said. “Never say never, what if we needed to repopulate the earth?”

She looked over at him and placed a hand on his and kissed his cheek, all soft and slow, and for a moment he thought she might actually kiss him for real but instead, she said. “There’ll be no hope for humanity then.”

He sighed, fake pouting before a couple of minutes of silence passed and he turned to her and said. “Come with me to Brazil.”

Her eyes widened, “What?"

“I leave tomorrow night, come with me.” He said.

She frowned. “What? Come with you? You can't be serious.”

He nodded. “Please? I miss you! And we can party for a whole week together, or sleep, or do whatever the fuck you want! Just come, pack a bikini and something sparkly, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

Y/n and Harry did end up going to Brazil but that’s a story for another time.

She stood up from the couch holding her hand out to him, and he slid his into hers. Cool rings grazing the soft skin of her palm.

“Let’s just go to sleep, you're talking like a crazy person.” She said, softly pushing a lock of his hair away from his eyes.

He sighed at her, “But m’ serious, Love.”

“Alright, ask me again tomorrow. That is if you even remember...now come on, let’s listen to Fleetwood Mac and sleep until tomorrow evening.”

Y/n's room was cosy and welcoming. Harry felt his eyes droop at the sight. A tiny lamp shining over them in an orange glow, her cot-like bed covered in blankets and the scent of her likely covering those sheets.

That night they slept in Y/n’s twin bed, cuddling, with Stevie Nicks serenading them to sleep. Cheeks plump and pink from too much alcohol, hands wandering scandalously, and the love in air was thick and obvious.

Before Y/n fell asleep she pecked his lips, in a quick kiss, one that it barely even touched him and said, “Night, mate,”

His lips burned like wildfire, and from that night on, he did think humanity had a chance if it was up to them. Whether or not she believed that.

“Night, Love.”

i have been a bit slack with updates lately...second year of uni is crazy and im already soooo busy, but i missed them and i wanted to write a lil sum for y'all until my next proper update :) BIG LOVEEEE

#nostringsattachedblurbs #nostringsattachedseriesbylilystyles #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader smut #lilystyles #harrystylesseries #childhood best friend to strangers to fwb to lovers #nostrings!H #blurb #longhairharry #my love #them

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joeys-babe · 1 year ago

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Joey B Imagines: You Make Loving Fun*

————————————————————————-

summary: you and joe are taking your first weekend trip away after having your twin boys. you two take the private jet and alone time to your advantage.

warnings: smut

pairing: joe burrow x reader

imagine universe: into the mystic

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(y/n’s pov)

October 15th, 2023

“oh my god, i’m so fucking excited!!” - you grinned

joe’s big hand on my lower back was leading me towards the steps to the private jet he had rented for this special occasion.

i turned to face joe, wanting to see his reaction to the jet but he was too busy slipping money to the guy that had loaded our bags into the plane.

after joe thanked him one last time, his blue eyes locked with my eyes and a large smile spread on his lips.

“you like it?” - joe smiled

“it’s so damn cool! that things awfully big for just me and you, was there no smaller options?” - you

“there were, but i kinda just wanted to impress you.” - joe

“joseph. we’ve been together too long for you to think you have to impress me.” - you

“i don’t think i have to, i wanted to. now let’s get inside, there’s something i wanna show you.” - joe

joe moved in front of me and took my hand, practically yanking me up the stairs since his long legs allowed him to take them two at a time.

“joe! slow down! i don’t have long ass legs like you.” - you

“oh shit sorry, baby. i got excited.” - joe

i had to giggle at that, his childlike wonder always coming off so adorable.

when joe and i stepped through the plane door hand in hand, the flight attendant was there pouring red wine into two glasses.

the plane was actually more roomy than expected, there were a couple different places to sit but joe opted for the two chairs that faced each other with a small table between them.

“mr. and mrs. burrow, welcome aboard! it’s lovely to have you! can i interest you in some of our red wine?” - flight attendant

“that’d be great, thank you.” - joe

she placed the glasses in front of us, making sure not to spill anything.

“10 minutes after we take off i’ll be back to take your dinner order. also, after we take off feel free to roam around. there’s the bedroom in the back that you guys can take a nap in, or just sprawl out to get comfortable.” - flight attendant

joe and i thanked her before she retreated to the cabin.

“there’s a bed on this thing?” - you

“yup. that’s what i wanted to show you.” - joe winked

“you trynna get me going, burrow?” - you

“i’d never, burrow.” - joe

even after being married for over a year, hearing joe call me by his- our last name never failed to make me blush.

joe referring to me as his wife or calling himself my husband would never ever get old.

“seriously though, this is gonna be a long ass flight even on the jet. i’m prob gonna knock out at some point.” - joe

“sounds fine with me, we can head back there after dinner and cuddle.” - you

joe nodded with a smile on his face. he was so happy when i finally agreed to go on the trip. since the twins had been born joe and i have had 0 alone time together, so he really wanted to have a getaway just the two of us. it came as a surprise to you since joe was no doubt a homebody that hated leaving the house.

i took a long look at joe while he was busy looking out the window, the stubble he’d recently grown out giving him a sexy af dad look that made me want to pounce on him.

joe and i still haven’t had sex since i gave birth to the twins 3 months ago, but i was growing super impatient. this is the most built joe’s physique has ever been and he drove me literally insane.

“god, you’re such a dilf.” - you

“excuse me?” - joe’s stare left the window and found you while he chuckled

“you’re a straight up dilf.” - you

when joe stayed staring at me like i was a crazy person, i started to explain what the acronym stood for.

“joseph, it means dad i’d like to fu-” - you

“i know what it means!” - joe cut you off

“then why’d you say excuse me?” - you

“you said it out of nowhere, you caught me off guard!” - joe

joe and i laughed for a few moments before we were interrupted by the flight attendant walking over to take our order.

our time waiting for our food was spent by talking about what we wanted to do on the trip, what we were looking forward to seeing the most, and honestly how much we missed the twins.

not even 15 minutes had passed and our food was being brought out to us. joe opted for soup while i got the salad.

there was a comfortable silence that fell over us due to the fact we were eating, but joe broke it.

“that dressing looks weird as hell.” - joe

“it’s good. wanna try?” - you

“eh, sure i guess.” - joe

i user my fork to make sure to get one of every piece of the salad in one bite, along with the dressing. when i handed the fork over to joe, some of the dressing dropped into his finger and his face showed a look of disgust.

at first i was just gonna let him cringe till he wiped it off on his napkin, but this seemed to be a perfect opportunity to tease him.

i leaned across the table and grabbed his hand. he was confused at first but when i sucked his finger into my mouth and licked the dressing off, his mouth hung open.

pulling off his finger with an audible pop sound, when my eyes met his i recognized those wide pupils that only seemed to darken his baby blues with pure lust.

“fuck.” - joe mumbled

“taste the dressing, baby.” - you

a smirk formed on joe’s face, a telltale sign he has just come up with an idea.

“here.” - joe handed you the fork

“c’mon! you gotta try it!” - you

“i’m going too, just eat it first.” - joe gestures towards the spoon in your hand

i put it to my lips, chewed, and swallowed all while still being confused to what joe was up to.

opening my mouth to ask joe what he was up to, he leaned across the table and captured my mouth with his. his tongue on my bottom lip asking to enter, and when i opened my mouth just a little bit his tongue was circling around the roof of my mouth.

“damn.” - you mumbled

when joe pulled away, that smirk was still on his face and the lust still shined in his eyes.

“it’s not bad.” - joe shrugged

“boy please.” - you roll your eyes

joe laughed and continued to eat. there were times i’d catch him staring, or his gaze would linger on my chest for a few seconds before looking away.

“you’re zoning out on me.” - you

“am not. i’m admiring you, you look ridiculously gorgeous today.” - joe

“thank you, joey.” - you smiled

joe’s eyes flicked down to my salad bowl and when he saw that it was empty, his excitement only grew more.

“wanna head back to the bedroom?” - joe

“i could def take a nap!” - you

“def not what i meant.” - joe winked

“maybe later? i need a nap first.” - you

“you can’t just suck my finger like that and then reject me.” - joe

“i’m not rejecting you, you goof. lemme get a 30 minute power nap in before we do anything like that.” - you

joe rolled his eyes but eventually got out of his seat, he walked over to where i was sitting and put his hand out to help me up. it was a habit he’d made during my pregnancy since it was hard for me to get up with my big bump.

“c’mon, momma.” - joe

we walked hand in hand through the small hallway of the jet, joe opened the door in the very back where the small bedroom was revealed.

joe led me over to the bed after shutting the door behind us, tripple checking that he locked the door.

the bed definitely wasn’t the ideal size, way smaller than the one we have at home. that was evident when i laid down and was the full length of it.

“babe, i think you’re gonna be bigger than the bed.” - you laughed

“calling me fat?” - joe gasped

“no! you’re 6’4, baby. if i’m the length of the bed, your feet are definitely gonna dangle.” - you

joe plopped down onto the bed and laid flat on his back, i had to laugh when his feet hovered in the air at the end of the bed.

“joey, your feet!” - you laughed

my laughing muffled when joe pulled me into his chest, his own laughter filling the room.

“roll over. if we spoon i can curl up and fit.” - joe

“yes sir.” - you teasingly bit your lower lip before following orders

“stop that! god, i hope this fuckin nap goes by quickly.” - joe

once joe seemed to be comfortable, and completely on the bed, i shut my eyes and drifted to sleep.

*time skip*

(joe’s pov)

i wasn’t that tired, so i just cuddled up to y/n and let her sleep. it was 15 minutes in when she started moving around. i just thought she was stirring in her sleep, but when she started grinding her ass against my crotch i knew this wasn’t just restless sleeping.

“baby?” - joe whispered

pushing myself up on my elbow to see her, i was met with a peacefully asleep y/n. the room in my pants was starting to get tight, and i really didn’t want to wait 15 minutes till her 30 minutes would be up.

this one particular time where she ground into me a little too hard, a groan escaped my lips and in return she moaned my name.

“y/n? are you awake?” - joe

“joey…” - you whimpered

fuck it.

i gently shook her shoulder and when her eyes opened she was gasping for breath.

she looked at me like she embarrassed, her cheeks flashing red. i hadn’t even asked her about her dream, but i’m guessing the grin on my lips and my erection pushed against her behind was enough clues.

“so, how was your dream?” - joe

“oh no. please tell me i didn’t do anything stupid.” - you

“i wouldn’t say moaning my name and grinding on me in your sleep is stupid.” - joe smirked

“oh my god! im so sorry!” - you

“no reason to be sorry, baby. it’s super fucking hot that i can make you moan even in your sleep.” - joe smiled smugly

“your ego is huge, joey b.” - you

“not the only thing about me that’s huge, wanna see what else is?” - joe

she hesitated for a second, so i let my hand roam from her waist down to her ass. when she instinctively pushed into me more i moved forward and pressed my lips onto hers.

“i thought that having sex on a plane was illegal..” - you

“they just gonna put a bed back here and expect us not to fuck?” - joe

“joe!” - you laughed

“i’m being serious, y/n.” - joe

“sorry.. what’s the game plan?” - you

i took one of her hands and placed it on my bulge before continuing, her eyes shined with lust.

“you practically tortured me in your sleep, i want your pretty lips around my cock.” - joe

a smug smirk formed on her lips, she loved hearing me talk about how i wanted her.

in a matter of minutes we were heavily making out, clothes flying across the room till we were both completely naked.

y/n maneuvered me to where i was sitting at the edge of the bed, and she lowered onto her knees between my spread legs.

i tilted my head to the side as i watched her examine my hard dick, not in a weird way, she was more admiring it than anything.

(y/n’s pov)

“you’re perfect.” - you reached forward and wrapped your hand around his length, giving him slow pumps

“i- i don’t know about that.” - joe

i looked up at him through my lashes to maintain eye contact as i licked over his tip. the groan that left his mouth hitting me straight in the crotch.

“oh god-” - joe groaned

removing my hand from his length, i licked the underside of his cock and took him in my mouth.

i had dropped my eyes from his since my nose was met with his happy trail, but occasionally i’d look up at him just to see his perfect top teeth sunk into his plump bottom lip.

he moved one of the arms that was holding himself up and laced his fingers into my hair to help guide me to his standards.

“holy- shit!” - joe

joe wasn’t loud in bed. praise, mumbled curses, and groans being his go-to’s, but due to the fact it had been over a year since we’ve done this i wasn’t at all surprised when he let out a louder moan.

i pulled off of his dick for a moment to lick and suck on his balls. ghosting my fingertips over the veins in his cock, i knew he was close by how his hips were bucking up.

“please- baby, i’m so close. i wanna cum down your throat..” - joe

still massaging his balls with my hand, i closed my lips around him and he pushed my head down to where his tip hit the back of my throat. a loud moan left his lips and i felt the hot spurts of his climax in the back of my throat.

“fucking hell-” - joe groaned

joe was still breathing heavy when i pulled off of him completely, he fell back against the bed as his chest heaved.

“you good, baby?” - you

“better than good.. that was insane.” - joe

i laid down next to him and he immediately pulled my head onto his chest, peppering kisses on my forehead.

“you ready for a nap now?” - you giggled

“oh hell no! this isn’t over.” - joe

“oh?” - you

i could barely finish my word when joe flipped us over to where he was leaning over me.

“you think i’d pass up getting inside you? absolutely the fuck not.” - joe

“then get inside me, joe.” - you

joe looked down at me with lust blown eyes, they were scanning my face till he leaned down and pressed his lips onto mine.

i was expecting his cock, so when he ran two fingers through my folds, i gasped out.

“you’re so wet, mama” - joe kissed you and entered in his fingers

“all for you-” - you moaned

a moment later, he disengaged his lips from mine and moved to where he was between my legs. joe moved to prop my knees up and pulled his fingers out of me, quickly replacing them with his tongue.

“oh god, joe!” - you moaned

i clenched around his tongue making him moan, the vibrations only making the experience better.

“i’m close!” - you

joe picked up the pace and it wasn’t long till i was screaming his name while wrapping my legs around his neck.

there was a few seconds of silence before joe unwrapped my legs from his neck and leaned over me again.

“you okay? it wasn’t too much right?” - joe

it was so sweet for him to check up on me, this was our first time since i gave birth and joe just wanted to make sure it was a pleasurable experience for me.

“it was perfect, really perfect. i think i passed out for a second.” - you laughed

joe laughed before placing a sweet kiss on my lips.

“grand finale time?” - you

“grand finale time.” - joe confirmed with a wink

i watched joe slowly stroke himself before he was lining his tip up with my entrance.

“listen. if it starts to hurt, you want me to stop, slow down, or if you want to do something different just tell me okay?” - joe

“okay, joey. i love you.” - you

“i love you too, honey.” - joe kissed your cheek

my arms wrapped around his neck as joe slowly entered me, once he started moving i realized something. this wasn’t fucking.. this was making love.

it was different from the sex we had before the twins, but it definitely wasn’t bad- it was more intimate in a way.

“god, i missed you so much.” - joe

“i missed you too…” - you moaned into his neck

joe started to pick up the pace, he was beginning to overcome his fear of hurting me.

“you feel so good, baby.” - joe

finding myself starting to get lost in the feeling of him, i couldn’t even form a response.

“i’m not gonna last very long!” - you

“that’s okay. this is about you, my love.” - joe

after a few more steady thrusts, that unmistakable feeling swarmed in my stomach.

“joe- joey.. i’m gonna cum!” - you

“cum, baby. let go for me.” - joe grunted

second later, my orgasm washed over me and the way my walls were fluttering around joe’s dick had him not far off either.

“don’t you dare fucking stop.” - you

“you sure?” - joe

“don’t stop till you cum too.” - you

joe resumed thrusting and a minute later his moans were getting more frequent.

“gonna- cum!” - joe

i grabbed his face and pulled him down to me, put lips engaging in a kiss that was nothing but filthy as he stilled inside me before finishing.

joe collapsed on top of me and i immediately wrapped my arms around him to start rubbing his back.

“i love you, joe.” - you

“i love you too.” - joe mumbled into your neck

i continued to hold him till he eventually pulled out and rolled off of me, he almost immediately pulled me into his chest and kissed my head.

“joey?” - you

“mhm?” - joe

“it’s kinda cold.” - you

joe sighed and sat up, climbing out of bed to check the cabinet next to it.

when joe opened the cabinet doors, a neat stack of throw blankets were revealed.

“voila!” - joe grabbed a blanket and tossed it at you

he turned around to shut the doors and i quickly leaned up to playfully slap his bare ass, i only giggled louder when he glared at me.

“you’ve got a nice ass! i mean can you blame me?” - you laughed

joe laughed with me as he fell onto the bed and pulled me into him again.

“i feel like knocking out for a couple hours.” - joe

“we can do that, as long as we wake up early enough to get dressed before we land.” - you

“sounds good.” - joe yawned

I raked my fingers through his hair and kissed his cheek, life with Joe was crazy but he sure made loving fun.

————————————————————————-

authors note: might not be the only fic of mine coming out tonight 😏😏

here are the requests that made this fic;

hope you enjoyed! 🫶

#joe burrow #bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joey b #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow smut

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writteninlunarlight-years · 4 months ago

Text

Two Sides~

Living in a small town came with its ups and downs. Everybody knew everybody, so any scandal or gossip was sure to spread like wildfire. That's how you came in contact with Lilith, the older woman who lived next to you.

You inherited your childhood home from your parents when they decided to retire and live life without you and your siblings. Moving back was not your ideal decision, but given your finances and how things were going, it was your best opportunity.

Moving helped you get closer to Lilith, a sweet woman in her mid-forties who was traversing life. She loved to sing and bake, demonstrating the good ideals of a comforting housewife. Yet when her husband would come around, the yelling and screaming said otherwise.

This is a small town, and with the gossip and rumors, it was decided that Lilith and her estranged husband were unfit for one another. No one would say that to their faces, though. However, Lilith would constantly tell you about the horrid things her husband would do and be up to.

He was a prominent CEO, owning a relatively large company and offering her riches farther than the eye could see. She never spoke of the business name or description; she just said he was loaded. You would have thought she was a liar had you not been inside her house multiple times. She was a picture-perfect trophy wife, and photos of her were displayed all over the house, none with her husband and only a few with her grown child.

You worked a humbling job of a good old 9-5 in a cramped office. The smell of coffee and B.O. around every corner. Yet that didn’t stop your young, spry self from partying on the weekends. Though your town was small, just down the road an hour or so, was a lovely big city with many clubs to party at.

Lilith liked to vicariously live through you, listening to your tales of the dance clubs and the partners you would go home with some nights. She also loved to discuss city life, as that was where her husband had moved her from. Giving Lilith these little moments filled your heart with warmth as you got to help make her feel more at ease with the rough relationship.

Tonight, though, was a Saturday night, and many of your old high school friends wanted to hit the club down by the big office building in the city. You were dressed in a candy apple red sequin dress with gold pumps and a snake clip in your hair. “Ready to go?” As you hopped in your friend's car, you saw Lilith sitting outside waving at you.

Heading out, the pre-party had already begun, with shots being taken as you guys made it to the club. Once there, it wasn’t hard to get in five pretty women, and a $20 tip, you oh so nicely gave the bouncer who escorted you all in. Once there, the group made their way to a side table where they could take turns getting drinks and dancing.

You were out on the dance floor having the time of your life, singing and dancing with your girls, when you felt the sensation of eyes on you. Turning to look for the intruder, your eyes landed on something far better than you expected. Upon the VIP booth sat beautiful bright blue eyes staring down at you.

The man was older, but god, was he gorgeous, from his eyes to the perfectly styled blonde hair, the easy grin, and the lithe body. He sat leaning back on the booth with a predatory smile. The game was on as soon as you two made direct eye contact. You were going to be his by the end of the night.

Motioning to his two guards, they went down to you and asked you to follow them. Never breaking eye contact, you nodded and were led right to the lion's den. Sitting next to the older man, you get an even better look at him. Gorgeous was an understatement. He was damn near a devil with how sexy he was.

His white suit was opened, showing the candy-red button-up half undone. His chest was proudly displayed, along with the intoxicating smell and jewelry he wore. You were fascinated immediately.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing here alone, doll?” You melted at the nickname. The alcohol and heat between your legs cloud your mind. You were leaning in closer to the man, seeking any reprieve.

“I came with friends; however, I don’t have to leave with them.” You hoped he understood what you were implying. As a smirk spread across his face, you realized you both had a common goal.

He motioned for you to be given a drink. After you had said your order, a firm arm wrapped around your waist. Pulling you in closer, you rested right up against him, and his body heat was maddening. “My name’s Lucifer. What’s yours, sweetheart? With that dress, I might just have to call you Apple.”

“Y/N, but you can call me whatever you want, sir.” He purred at the name you gave him, instructing you to keep calling him that. You had a few more drinks with the man, learning of his business and his frequencies at this club. He was a well-known tycoon owner and was loaded—a lot like Lilith's husband. You were escorted to his car shortly after your chance meeting. The BMW was all black and sleek; as he helped you get in, he grabbed your ass playfully, causing you to squeak and giggle at him.

You two spent the evening at your house since his was occupied. There should have been your clue to ask more, but the way his voice sounded, and the touches sent heat to your core; it was like your brain wasn’t wired right.

Arriving at your home, he helped you out. It was late at night, and you helped him to your home. The minute the door closed, his hands were on you like he would lose you if they weren’t. Hot, passionate kisses that left you breathless and wanting more filled your lips. Hands were roaming each other's bodies.

As you two made out, the direction of your movements led you two to the bedroom and on the queen bed. As he laid you back, he stood up in front of you, a smirk on his devilish face. “Now listen, it’s still sir from now on, got it. Do as I say, and I’ll treat you good, princess. Listen well, and maybe I’ll keep returning to enjoy what’s between these legs.”

You nodded, mind clouding faster than at the bar, “Yes, Sir,” A quick Good Girl was heard as he dove into your neck, kissing and biting you all over; as soon as he found the spot that had you mewling he abused it leaving a bright purple mark on your neck. Slowly, he worked his way down to the tops of your breasts and shimmied your dress down.

With your chest now exposed, you thanked past you for deciding no bra was brilliant with this dress. His hot mouth circled your perky bud so gently, every so often taking a harsh suck or tantalizing bite to get a sound from you. He made quick work of using his other hand to pull and stroke your other bud. As soon as he had his fill abusing your one mound, he traded places, listening to you succumb to his touch.

“Please, Sir, more please…” You could feel Lucifer's smirk on your skin; he was enjoying himself too much. Sitting you up on the bed, he stripped his jacket and button-up shirt, making quick work of your dress. Pushing you down on the bed, he slotted himself between your legs. “Please tell me what you want, princess.” You whimpered softly at his words. You felt so good and so small at the same time. Motioning to your clothed cunt he smiled and shook his head. A light smack was applied to your spread thighs. As you gasped, he spoke. “I said use your words, princess.” Like you were hypnotized, you spoke again, “My pussy, Sir, please…” He smiled and rewarded you with another ‘Good Girl’ and a deep searing kiss. His kisses trail from your lips down your neck to the swell of your breasts, down your stomach, and right above your panty line. Looking down at him, you whine softly. There, Lucifer was the most beautiful man you laid eyes on, face inches from your clothed soaking cunt, and he was smirking like he won the best prize.

“Candy red is my favorite; I would almost think you dressed up like this just to lure me in, princess,” He placed his nose and mouth against your heat and inhaled before licking a thick stripe over your panties. “I am going to make you cum so much you can only think of me in this bed, darling.” You moaned loudly as he ripped the offensive cloth off your body.

Burying his face back into your pussy his mouth was divine. Every mewl and moan followed by a ‘Sir’ left you with his long tongue sliding in and out of you. He knew the perfect level of abusing your sensitive clit and then bullying your cunt with his tongue. He had you melting, and as he expertly rolled your bundle of nerves between his teeth, you began to see stars. The familiar bundle of white-hot need in your core was growing, something only toys and your hands could do.

As you arched off the bed begging to cum his tongue was replaced by smooth thick fingers as he spread open your entrance with his fingers. His skillful mouth expertly played with your clit till you finally screamed your high at its peak. He didn’t stop, though; even as you convulsed and cried, he kept the overstimulation going till he pulled another sweet body-shaking orgasm out of you.

Once he had his fill, he slowly sat up, face covered in a sheen of your slick. You almost came again just from the sight. Your body was tired, yet your aching whole clenched around nothing. Lucifer smiled and climbed out of bed, unbuckling his pants and letting them fall to the ground.

Rolling your head to look at the length you were taken back, the pale length was considerable and girthy, thick veins coating the sides begging to be squeezed by your walls. The red tip was fiery and throbbing, begging to release the load he was holding back after watching you cum for him.

Climbing back between your legs, he lined himself up with your sopping cunt. You nodded slowly and whined as he entered your tight hole. “That’s it, Good Girl, your cunts are already so greedy for my cock.” Slowly, he rocked in you so as not to unload himself already. As he rocked, you began to relax around him and feel every curve and vein on the massive cock in you.

Once you were consistently moaning and babbling, ‘Yes sirs’ and ‘Please harders, ’ he bent you entirely in half and began to fuck you hard. You had never felt anything like this or felt your bed shake as bad as it was now. He had your knees to your ears, hands holding the pudge of your stomach, and his shoulders keeping your legs apart. His cock was throbbing and only growing more in your cunt. As he fucked you deep in a mating press, a thick white frothy ring appeared around the base of his cock. Your screams and moans covered the squelching and slapping noises. Lucifer's grunts became more and more animalistic as he pounded into you. His pace faltered as he neared his limits; leaning back slightly, he placed the pad of his thumb against your clit and began rubbing it with just the correct pressure. As you began to see starts, Lucifer's moans became whimpers as he held himself back, waiting for you to cum a third time.

As soon as he got you over the edge, he was over you once again, slamming his cock so far in his balls seated against your ass. A few good thrusts, and he came deep inside of you, painting your walls with his thick creamy white cum. You were a babbling mess; from crying and drooling, you were covered head to toe in some fluid.

A satisfied smirk rested on Lucifer's face as he pulled out of your sore cunt. He rubbed your body gently, helping the muscles relax. As you lay there fucked out, Lucifer went to the bathroom and drew a bath. Picking you up, he bathed you two slowly and methodically. Once cleaned up, he took you both back to bed and helped you get comfy.

You smiled softly; you could get used to this. Sex shouldn’t define a relationship, but damn sex and aftercare, you may already be in love. As your eyes closed, you could feel Lucifer's gentle caress as he kissed your temple and said sweet nothings to you.

As day broke, you were alone in bed. You were hurt and a little disappointed. However, as you rolled over to look at the time, you saw a cup of water, some migraine medicine, and a sticky note with a sweet message and a phone number. Smiling, you stood and added the number, sending it a quick text. Changing into loungewear, you gathered last night's close, yet all you could find was your dress; your ripped panties were missing. Sighing, you ignored it, thinking maybe he had thrown them away already and headed to start some chores. While working on your house, you heard a frantic knock on your door.

Rushing to open it, afraid there was a severe problem, Lilith stood there red-faced and teary-eyed. Confused, you let her into your house and offered her some coffee. As she sat and drank, she confessed to you something horrible. Her estranged husband had been having an affair with a younger woman. Lilith only found out because when he came home late last night and took off his clothes, he forgot to take her underwear out of his pocket.

Your eyes widened as she pulled out Candy Apple Red panties that were ripped down the seam…… Well, you guessed there were always two sides to a story.

#x reader #lunarwritings #moons #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer smut #Lucifer #Theduckyking #thekingofhell

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