Dress
Pairing: Will Ramos x Reader
Word Count: 2.6k
Warnings: 18+ this is straight up self-serving porn!!!!!!! Minors go away!!!! Anyways this has got everything: Biting, p-in-v, blowjobs, fingering (female receiving), breeding kink, big ole praise kink, me projecting how badly I want to swallow William's load, I think that's it but by all means DM me or reply if you think I should add something!
Literally no one hmu unless it's to talk about this photo. It has nothing to do with the story but I wanna fuck him so bad so I'm putting it here. It's my blog I do what I want.
Yes I was listening to Dress by Taylor Swift as I wrote this!!!! Yes it's one of the horniest songs in her discography!!!! Leave me alone!!!!
Anyways.
This is straight up porn, no plot in sight, no beta because I'm insane, no fucks given because I'm a whore! Enjoy.
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Will was about to vibrate out of his fucking skin.
He’s irritable, too- a far cry from his usual “Sunshine and Rainbows” disposition. People kept trying to make conversation, ask him about the tour, compliment the new album. It would end with a curt, “Yeah, it was a lot of fun,” as his eyes would be dragged from whoever he was talking to back to you.
The dress was unfair. It was diabolical, even. He searched his memory, trying to come up with a reason you’d put him under such physical and emotional duress. He did the dishes last night, made breakfast this morning- he even folded the laundry! In terms of “deserving of death by nefarious garments,” his conscience was clear.
Yet there you were, clad in the slinkiest little black dress that he never knew you owned. You had spent hours in front of the mirror, perfecting your makeup, carefully styling your hair. It had been fun for him to watch; Fun to listen to your “Ultimate Emo” playlist and jam out while you painstakingly applied a swipe of lipstick, a striking mark of eyeliner. It was fun.
He stopped having fun the moment you stepped out in the goddamned thing.
“Zip me up?” You had asked, batting mascara-ed lashes at him sweetly. His brain had short circuited for a second, rebooting completely when it started overheating. Zip you up? He wanted to eat you up, toss you over his shoulder like a caveman and keep you in bed for hours.
“Where are you going in that?” He asked incredulously. Your breasts were about to fall out, fabric clinging to the small of your waist. There were other details- lace and ribbons and shit he didn’t have the vocabulary for when his head was running on all cylinders, much less now. You turned around so he could reach the zipper better, and he genuinely wondered if the anime nosebleeds were onto something with how quickly the blood rushed to his cock at the sight of your ass stretching the fabric.
“Um, to the jamboree your label is hosting?” You retort with a giggle. “C’mon, we’re going to be late to this shindig if we don’t leave soon.”
He had complied, after some whining, zipping you up and kissing you softly on your shoulder, willing his cock to miraculously soften.
Then you had arrived, and he was swept away by record executives, you saw a group of gal-pals, and he had to keep his hands to himself.
For hours.
Will’s hands itched with the urge to reach out and touch you, twitching at his sides. Someone said something that must have been fucking hilarious, because you were laughing, head thrown back, chest heaving-
I can’t do this. He thinks to himself. This is a task for men stronger than me.
Quickly downing the last dregs of his cocktail, he impolitely excuses himself from the group he was speaking with, maneuvering through the mass of people to where you stood.
“Hi baby!” You call when he enters your line of sight, smiling brightly. You’re in a small group of people who also greet Will upon his arrival, immediately asking about the tour.
“It was a lot of fun, thanks for asking.” Will mumbles distractedly, eyes never leaving you. “You ready to blow this popsicle stand, love bug?”
Your eyes widen slightly in surprise. “Oh, sure.” You quickly excuse yourself from the group, leaving with warm goodbyes and tight hugs. Will thinks he’ll catch on fire before the two of you make it out of the building, but then you’re walking over to join him, the two of you quickly working through the crowd.
“Is everything okay, Will?” You ask when you’re both out of earshot. Concern is evident in your tone, and Will fights the urge to smooth the crease between your eyebrows with a kiss.
“Yeah, just itchy is all.” He murmurs to you, placing a kiss on the top of your head as you both exit the building. Itchy was a good word; He was practically crawling out of his skin with the urge to get you undressed, underneath him.
Guilt overtook your pretty features. “Oh baby, was the party too much? If you felt overstimulated, we could have left earlier-”
“No, I’m fine, pretty girl, really. It’s just-” He sighs, stopping in the parking lot to dig his keys out of his pocket.
“Did I do something?” You sound so sad, eyes widening. Will could practically see your mind sifting through the evening, trying to find some misstep.
“No, no baby- stop. I can see you overthinking, you didn’t do anything wrong, I just-” He sighs again, pausing by the car now. He glance around the two of you, making sure you were alone, before guiding your hand to his groin.
Your eyes went dark at what you found there. “Holy shit, you’re- how long?” You stammer, sounding hoarse.
“Ever since you put on that fucking dress.” He admits sheepishly.
“C’mon.” You nod towards the car, motioning for him to get inside.
You made quick work of shutting your door, Will about to start the car when you stop him.
“Leave it off.” You command, making his eyebrows shoot up in question. “Less conspicuous.”
“Less conspicuous for wha-” Will’s question was cut off as your lips locked with his in a searing kiss. You gripped his shirt in your hands, dragging him closer to you.
“All hard for me, huh?” You whisper against his lips.
He’s nodding before he realizes it. “So hard, baby, all fucking night, all for you.”
You’re nodding with him, already drunk off of the power you have over him. “Let’s get you taken care of then, yeah?”
You tear your lips away from his to better unbutton and unzip his pants, tugging the fabric down the best you could in the cramped space. He hisses as you pull his briefs down so that his cock can spring free.
“Holy shit.” You breathed, taking him in.
He’s always been big- you were familiar with that part- but you’d never seen him after being hard for hours. The veins on his cock were bulging angrily, the tip shiny with precum and deliciously red.
“Poor thing,” you say in a saccharine voice, leaning in to kiss the cherry-red tip.
He outright keens at that, hips barely jerking up, like it was taking everything to hold himself down. “Don’t be mean, pretty girl.”
You give him one last grin before you’re swallowing him down, stopping three-quarters of the way down to soothe your gag reflex.
“Fuck-“ Will gasps into the air, one hand coming up to tangle in your hair. His grip tightens, and you feel your control over the situation slipping away. “Fucking tease tonight, huh? Not enough to wear your slutty little dress, couldn’t wait to get my cock in your mouth either, could you?”
You whimper almost silently at his words, but he feels the vibrations of it on his cock. “Little slut likes that? Does she want me to use her pretty mouth?” He continues, pulling you up by your hair just enough for you to be able to speak.
You relinquish any semblance of control you had when you manage a small, “Please.”
He grins at you, so far from his regular, cheerful smile, and pulls you in for one last kiss. It’s sloppy and wet and wonderful, and you’re almost sad when he yanks you away by your hair again to guide you down to his cock.
“Open.” He commands, the gruffness of his voice making you quickly do as you were told. His cock is in your throat immediately, but before you can gag, he’s pulling you back up roughly. You manage half a gasp of air before you’re being shoved back down, swallowing him again. He continues fucking your face at a brutal pace; Soon spit is covering your chin, and you can feel you mascara running down your cheeks in the form of tears.
“So fucking good for me.” Will grunts, hips thrusting up to meet your face. “Such a good girl, taking what she’s given.”
The praise makes you moan- or at least, as much as you could with him fucking your mouth so thoroughly. You’re lost in the sensation of him so deep in your mouth, breathing deeply through your nose as he uses you. His thrusts start becoming irregular, a chant of your name and “fuck” falling from his lips as his movements grew shorter and shorter.
Oh, you think. He’s so close, you can see it in the tension of his body, in the drawn-up expression on his face. You want nothing more than for him to finish in your mouth, to make you swallow it down, but he pulls out abruptly, chest heaving with labored breaths.
“Is something wrong?” You’re pouting, you can feel yourself pouting.
He sees your face and huffs a laugh, still panting. “Pretty girl wants my cum that bad?”
His words- the vulgarity of them- color your cheeks pink. Although… Yeah. That was exactly what you wanted. You nod, the smallest movement.
You think you hear him stop breathing, but then he speaks again. “C’mere, honey, I’ll give you what you need.” He motions to his lap, where his cock is beckoning you like a siren at sea. You hastily go to unzip your dress, but he stops you. “Leave it on.” His gaze drags down your form, back up to your throat, where his eyes linger for a moment before he’s looking into your eyes again. “Leave all of it on.”
His words make you shiver, but you obey, crawling over to straddle his lap. He yanks your panties to the side in record time, immediately thrusting two fingers into you. You mewl at the sensation, eyes squeezing shut as your hand comes up to slap over your mouth to muffle the sound.
“Nuh uh, let me hear.” His voice is in your ear, nose rubbing against the lobe of it. “Let me hear your pretty sounds- God, you’re so fucking wet.”
You could hear him moving his fingers inside you, even over your own noises. You grind down into his hand without consciously realizing you’re doing so, chasing the pleasure his fingers brought you. You open your eyes blearily, wanting to see him, only to find that he’s studying that same spot again, right at the base of your neck. Jutting your chin up so that your throat is completely vulnerable, you give him a meaningful look.
He accepts the offer, teeth coming down to bite at your pulse point. The moan that escapes you is profane, dwindling to the pathetic whimper of an injured animal as he sucks at the skin where he bit, soothing it with his tongue. Your chest is next, ample cleavage on display for his lips to lock onto, sucking a hickey into the sensitive skin with ease. The hand that’s not fucking into you grips onto your waist to leave another bruise, pulling you impossibly closer.
You know what he’s doing- Marking what’s his, letting everyone know who you belong to. And you couldn’t care less about the perception of it, lost in the pleasure of his lips and the sensation of being owned. Arching into his mouth, your hands tangle in his hair as your legs start to quiver with unadulterated want.
“‘M close, Will I’m-” You pant, tugging at his hair desperately.
“I know, pretty girl, be good and come for me so I can fuck you properly.” He whispers into your neck, and that’s all it takes to hurtle you over the edge, shaking with your orgasm even as he replaces his fingers with his cock.
It’s so much more- more girth, more length. It stretches you, fills you up to the brim. You’re still in the aftershocks of coming as he starts fucking you in earnest, yanking you into his chest until you feel like you can’t get a breath in. You’re practically wailing, the sensitivity of getting fucked so quickly after orgasming overwhelming, but it’s perfect.
“You’re my girl, right?” He’s grunting, holding you stationary while his hips rock up into you at break-neck speed. “My pretty girl, all mine.”
You nod, incoherently babbling, “I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours-”
“Want my cum?” He pulls back just enough to look in your eyes. It’s all love there- an all-consuming love that illuminates his gaze like a flame. “Want me to fill you up? Put a baby in you- Keep a baby in you?”
You’re nodding again, unintelligible sounds falling from your lips in response. “Please.” You finally manage to stammer out.
He’s almost smiling, a joyous kind of pleasure overtaking his features as his thrusts grow erratic for the second time that evening. Your grip on him tightens as you feel yourself get closer and closer, tears springing in your eyes from the overstimulation.
It hits you like a fucking train, face curled into his neck in a silent scream, legs spasming in every direction. He fucks you through it, coming in hot spurts inside you, thrusts growing sloppier until he finally nestles himself deep within you, setting you down gently in his lap again.
You’re panting and trembling, completely collapsed against his chest. The both of you sit like that a few long minutes, his hand rubbing at the exposed part of your back soothingly. When you feel an iota of strength return to your body, you’re craning your neck up to kiss his cheek.
He’s grinning, turning to look down at you. “Well shucks, thanks for the kiss, honey.”
You’re giggling with him, pushing yourself up so that your back is straight. You hiss as the movement moves him inside your sore hole, a shudder passing through your body.
“You better cut that out, I’ll fuck you again if you’re not careful.” He warns teasingly, hands gripping your hips lightly.
You flash him a grin, and then ready yourself for the chore of him pulling out. You know it’s going to be tender, but you still yelp as he slips out of you. Flopping into your seat, you give yourself another minute to collect your breath. He tucks his cock away, zipping up his pants carefully and starting the car.
You zone out for a moment, only recognizing the long silence that has stretched between the two of you after a few minutes more have passed. You look over at him, a question on your lips, when the look on his face makes you pause.
He’s staring in between your legs, a small pout on his face. “It’s leaking out.”
You throw your head back, barking a laugh at his distress. “I have an IUD as well, my love, I don’t think it’ll work no matter how hard you try.”
His eyes go dark at your words. “Then I’ll just try harder next time.”
Before you can respond, the car is in drive, and you’re headed home. You quickly buckle your seat belt, pulling down the passenger mirror to clean yourself up, stopping when you catch the first glimpse of your reflection.
Your makeup has smeared everywhere. Black streaks run down your cheeks in rivulets, your lipstick smudged around your mouth. Your tits are littered with bruises, lovebites of various colors decorating your skin. You look like a slutty fucking mess, You think to yourself. You’re searching for a napkin to wipe your face when Will speaks up again.
“Leave it.” He flips on his turn signal, pulling onto your street. His jaw is tight, and you swear you can see a bulge in his trousers. He turns to look at you as he puts the car in park in front of your house, eyes already glossed over again. “Leave all of it.”
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.・:*:・゚’ twenty four year old cismale sahir mohan was made in brooklyn and attended st. jude’s. he still resides in new york, and is currently a model / aspiring musician. they are warm, moody eyes, vintage leather, smoky, whiskey-tinted kisses tattoos done in trashed hotel rooms, a tab of acid on a capable tongue. onlookers say they resemble zayn malik. ( g, 22, she/her, pst )
hiii so the truth is i am a greedy fuck?? shout out 2 becca for recruiting me into this group and giving me a whole new place to be one? so this fool is a brand new muse of mine and not that well fleshed out yet but i think that’s okAY bc it leaves a lot of room for development :’) tbh i just wanted all of the opportunities to plot with u fine folks so i decided i needed *dj khalid voice* anotha one
ight so his parents came over to the US from the UK (tower hamlets, one of the poorest parts of london) when sahir was still pretty young like ten or eleven, and it was kind of a weird adjustment to him but like? not really? especially since they moved to brooklyn and the overall environment wasn’t much different from the one he’d grown up in before that yikes
they opened their own pizzeria because they thought it would be a successful business venture and they’d be able to make a living for themselves in the city that way, but the truth is they struggled to do much apart from barely scrape by paying all of the bills and hardly breaking even each year
his upbringing and watching his parents hardships like that really fucked sahir up, and he found himself growing more determined to make something of himself that would allow him to give them both a comfortable lifestyle with each passing year
at freshly eighteen right after graduating from st. judge’s he started getting help from different benefactors (wealthy men ok) , they were paying for all of his rent, utilities etc and he was saving as much as he possibly could. by the end of that year he was able to start helping his parents out with their debts and that made him feel a lot better but! he couldn’t keep doing the sugar baby thing okay my boy felt weird about it
luckily one of his benefactors was kind and pretty influential in the high fashion world, and because of him sahir was able to have a rather late ~discovery~ and be swept up into it himself, becoming a highly sought-after and extremely popular model in just a couple years time
there’s just one problem,,, as grateful as sahir is for everything his career has brought him, namely the ability to get his parents entirely out of financial dire straits and give them something much more along the lines of the life he’s always wanted them to have, he fucking hates modeling rip
to him it was exciting at first, being fully considered one of manhattan’s elite despite where he came from, getting to attend all these lavish parties and big events, having all this attention, but he quickly realized that modeling isn’t something he’s ever going to have a real passion for
*big fat cliche voice* his real ~passion~ is in music, namely singing and writing his own original songs, so now he’s trying to work out a plan to use the social media following and regular attention that being associated with a lot of big brands and designers has earned him, in order to launch a career in music (his vc is zayn obv)
he’s really not trying to get Help from anyone but lord knows my boy probably isn’t going to be able to make it where he wants to be if he doesn’t :(
doesn’t like too rely too heavily on anyone, especially given his past of actually being fully financially dependent on others and feeling that power imbalance; apart from enjoying getting fucked up, he always likes to feel in control
bisexual &, unrelatedly, an abominable thot
a moody artistic little shit
my boy loves getting tattoos + tattooing, doesn’t have his license to do it but hit him up to give yc them anyway ok
TW: SUBSTANCE USE very much lives his life in the vein of ‘i’m here for a good time, not for a long time’, especially once he was introduced to a life of luxury and no longer having to constantly worry about money- does too many drugs, smokes too many cigarettes, drinks too much booze, fucks too many people
TW DEATH: he has this (ridiculous) fantasy that he’s going to be part of the 27 club someone stop his fake deep ass like my guy not only are you already 24 but are u really tryna die?
this is pretty much all I have for now but I’ll likely add to this as time goes on, or at least the version of it I’ll keep on his page here. you can also find his almost completely blank connections page here! can’t wait to plot w/ u guys :’)
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