#sleeveless wrap dress short

[amourane]

innocent girl

pairing: sirius black x fem!reader x remus lupin

genre: smut, pwp

w/c: 1.8k

summary: you're so pure, so perfect, so innocent and sirius and remus just can't help but ruin you.

warnings: explicit sexual content, degradation, praise, oral (m. receiving), fingering, orgasm denial

a/n: please enjoy also haven't written smut in ages so i'm a bit rusty.

Sirius was so fucking horny. He didn’t know why. Maybe it's the short skirt you were wearing or the sleeveless top but something about you radiated sexy. There were times you would stretch your arms giving him a glance at your lacy baby pink bra. Even though you were too absorbed in the book you were reading to notice him staring, you were still beautiful. The thought simply drove him wild. 

Quite literally. 

"Siri, you okay?" Your voice was sugary sweet, the innocent smile on your face was so cute. If there was one thing he loved, it was you. You and your adorable virgin ass. He knew that you hadn’t slept with anyone. He’d heard you touch yourself only on one occasion and god did it make him hard. The fact that he knew was what drove him crazy. He knew he shouldn't be thinking these thoughts. But he couldn't help it. 

"Y/n," He whispered. "You're such a fucking tease you know that?" 

Your cheeks flushed red and you closed your book. "W-What?" 

"You heard me right, you're such a fucking tease, dressing like this." He thumbed your top, his hands slowly caressed your skin. "You're just begging to be fucked." His voice ghosted your skin and you shivered involuntarily.

“S-Siri w-what are you doing?” You nervously stuttered, not used to his actions. His warm palm rested on your knee. A warm feeling shot to your core. You gulped, not daring to move. 

Sirius kissed you. His plump lips moving against yours. It wasn’t soft. You could practically feel how needy he was. How much he wanted you. Your ex had only kissed you like this on one occasion and it wasn’t the best. But with Sirius it felt right. So right. Both of your tongues tangled with each other. You grasped at his shirt desperately. Sirius smirked, fingers threading through your hair. Your body felt as if it was on fire. Your core was burning and you clamped your thighs shut, rubbing them together. 

When you finally pulled away, your heart was racing. Sirius licked his lips. Your cheeks were flushed and your lips were cherry red. 

“Come here baby, I got something for you.” Sirius tugged you closer to him, you gasped when you felt his bulge through his jeans. You felt your panties beginning to grow wet. The thin fabric started to stick to your dripping folds. Sirius swiped his thumb over your pink lips. “Let’s see what your pretty mouth can do, hm?”

You watched, enraptured. The sight of his cock springing free and slapping his toned abdomen had your mouth watering. You looked up at Sirius on his bed, all he did was raise his eyebrows expectedly. Hesitantly, you slid your hands up his thighs, stroking his cock. A groan leaves his lips. You wrap your pink lips around the head, sucking gently. The moans that you managed to elicit from him had you sucking harder, a desperate determination to make him feel good.

“Fuck! Didn’t know you were such a slut for my dick huh Y/n?” He grinned wickedly, pushing you down on his cock. His eyes darkened. “Now, suck you brat.” The tone he used had your pussy clenching and you whimpered. 

You bob your head up and down taking him deeper. He thrusted harder while you tried not to choke when the tip hit the back of your throat. The feeling of his hips jutting upwards almost had you gagging. You look up at Sirius beneath your lashes, tongue swirling around. His eyes were shut, head thrown back, multiple curses leaving his throat. He looked so pretty and you couldn’t deny it when your heart raced faster.

You tried to pull back but his strong arms grabbed your head, shoving you deeper. You choked at the sudden movement but stayed where you were. Tears had started streaming down your face and you forced yourself to breathe through your nose. Sirius shouted a loud curse when your throat constricted around him. He stroked your hair, pushing you so your nose grazed his pubic bone. 

“So fuckin’ messy, look at you, dribbling on my cock like some desperate bitch in heat.”

The lewd sounds that filled the dorm made you feel hot. The heated pool down between your legs seemed to only grow. 

“Take me so well don’t you baby?” Sirius wiped the tears away from your face. His hips stuttered as your throat tightened once more. He could feel his high coming closer. He inhaled deeply. “You’ll be a good girl won’t you Y/n?” The innocent doe eyed look you provided him had his cock throbbing. You nodded, unable to say anything. 

Sirius smirked as he felt your tongue flick. The warmth and comfort of your mouth was fantastic. He gripped your head closer, moaning out your name. 

“F-Fuck, you’re so good at this. Fuckin’ filthy whore.” Sirius growled as he felt his stomach begin to coil. His cock twitched in your mouth. Hot white cum shot into your mouth and Sirius inhaled shakily, pulling on your hair. He jerked into your mouth a couple of times. You swallowed obediently. He pried open your jaw, satisfied when he saw it empty. 

“Such a good girl aren’t you? Swallowing and I didn’t even need to tell you to do so.”

“Having fun without me?” Your head whipped around. Quickly you scrambled off the floor, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You tried to dart away but Sirius grabbed you and pulled you onto his lap, your skirt riding up. Remus stood, leaning against the door with a smug grin on his face. He raised his eyebrows.

“Was just about to invite you, Moony.” Sirius traced patterns across your exposed skin. “Little Y/n here just couldn’t keep her hands off me, hm?” 

You didn’t have any words. “I-I...” Instead you looked down, not wanting to meet any of their gazes. You did have a crush on Sirius and Remus but you’d thought it was wrong, that it was disgusting. You had dismissed it as a platonic feeling for such a long time. They were your best friends after all. 

“Didn’t know you were such a dirty whore Y/n.” Remus smirked, kneeling down in front of you. His long fingers tilted your head to face him. “Does our little Y/n want me too?” 

Even though your throat still hurt from the blowjob you just gave Sirius, you nodded, too nervous to say anything. 

“We’ve got to make it quick, wouldn’t want Tom to catch us now would we?” Remus spat venomously.

You vaguely remembered telling your new friend that you had a charms assignment that was busting your ass and he had graciously offered to help you. 5:00 was the time both of you had arranged to meet in the library. You glanced at the clock on the wall. 4:50. 10 minutes. You gulped involuntarily. 

“What time were you meeting dear Tom again?” Sirius gripped your waist tightly, a sly smirk spread onto his face as you felt his fingers inch upwards. You mumbled under your breath. “I can’t hear you baby, you’ve got to speak up.”

“Five.” You shivered when his fingers ghosted your thigh. 

“We can get a lot of things done in ten minutes can’t we Padfoot?” You felt Remus’s arms wrap around your waist, his head nuzzling into your neck. “And we’ve got plenty of time after you come back.” His hands trailed down and up your skirt. You gasped when you felt his fingers press against your clit. 

Sirius tilted your head up to him. He pulled you forward into a searing kiss. Both your tongues fighting passionately. He grinded up into your hips. You squeaked into his mouth when you felt Remus push your panties aside, sliding a single finger through your folds. 

“Sweetheart you’re so wet.” He began to probe, slowly fingering you. “Aren’t you just a fucking slut.” He pumped his digits inside you easily.

You moaned. The names both of them called you had you dripping. Sirius’s lips moved faster against yours and you struggled to keep up. The feeling of Remus’s long slender fingers against your heated core, rubbing ever so gently, had you shuddering. You hadn’t ever felt this way, you’d only touched yourself a couple of times. 

Sirius broke away, plush lips ghosting your delicate skin. He traced his warm hands up your shirt. A little squeak of surprise left you when he cupped your breast. You didn't realise he had stripped your bra off until the cold air hits your skin. Remus curled his fingers and your reaction was immediate. You let out a breathy moan when you felt Sirius suck on your collarbone. Leaving a blooming red mark in his wake. His hot hands massaged your bare breasts.

“T-Time…” You resisted the urge to cry out in pleasure when Remus went faster. He reached the places your own fingers could never. You felt so overwhelmed, the first time having someone else’s touch on you. A gasp left your throat when you felt Sirius’s lips latch onto your nipple. 

“Love, we're not gonna stop until you cum.” Remus sneered, rubbing circles against your clit. “You better hurry, you wouldn't want to be late for Tom? What would he think of little sweet Y/n getting fucked by her two best friends, hm?” 

Your voice seemed to have disappeared, all you could manage was a bunch of blissful moans. 

“She doesn’t deserve to cum.” Sirius lightly nipped on your sensitive skin. “Been ignoring us for that no-good prick.” He sucked harder, rolling your nub between his tongue. You grinded down on Remus’ fingers, determined for your release. His fingers curled inside you as he scissored your tight cunt open. 

“P-Please...please.” You sobbed, senses overloading. A hot coil began to wrap itself around in your stomach. “I’ll do anything. Need to cum, please ‘m gonna cum.”

“Needy whore. Such a nasty cunt, you’re so pathetic dripping around my fingers.” Remus felt your pussy squeeze around your fingers. He smirked, licking a long stripe up your neck. “Like it when we call you names, isn’t that right?” He taunted, pinching your clit, plunging another finger inside you. The two of them kept their relentless attacks and you felt yourself coming closer to the edge. It would only take a few more seconds for you to fall. Just a few more.

Everything’s gone. 

Remus and Sirius grinned smugly at your worn out body on the bed. Your whole body was tingling with the newfound sensation. Every single part of you felt like it was about to burst and it was taken away from you.

“Gotta go meet Tom now, pretty girl.” Remus chuckled as he licked his fingers. “A shame when we could’ve taught you everything you needed to know.”

You opened your mouth in protest but their harsh gazes were too much and you gulped your words back down, pulling your clothes back onto your body.

“Hurry back to us, little one.” Sirius muttered as you left their dorm and he delivered a firm smack to your ass. “Can’t wait to finish what we started.”

[capslocked]

KINKVEMBER DAY: 7

[prompt: praise kink]

male reader x shen xiaoting

7k words

Well - from a glance, Xiaoting is flawless.

Every photographer makes the same movement as soon as she steps foot onto the stage - almost as if she's commanding them - but it's not a fair competition and she knows it.

The tiny black dress wrapped around her waist, hugging every meticulous angle in its stretch, isn't exactly the most practical of options, but then again nor was the sleeveless cut or the low-backend, nor the slit in the skirt that shows however much leg you're curious to see, nor the five-inch Louboutins with little ribbons at the ankles, crystals in their mesh like a real-life glass slipper - so, truly, anything about this outfit.

But in this industry, red carpets are about one thing: image.

(Something Xiaoting wields in excess.)

She pauses the subtle sashay of her hips mid-way across the stage, and pivots around, straightening out the waves in her hair, done-up and perfect-in-pink, over her shoulders. She lets the flash of every camera illuminate the swell of her lips in full - reflect and shimmer in the sequence of diamonds dangling under her ears. But it's all in that little smirk, the tilt of her chin. Everything working together to sell the moment; how breathtakingly beautiful she is, how proud, confident and seemingly indifferent to all the commotion happening around her - to every person calling her name and pleading for her to look in this specific direction.

You can watch how deliberate she holds her posture. See it. Understand it. Watch how she tips her head. The genuine kind of smile that could drive anyone to absolute ruin.

Maybe the more obvious: how the cameras love her - love the flash, the shine and glitter and sparkle of the fabric, love the turn of a heel onto where her legs are poised, her profile a perfect angle for every shot and more and more and more.

There's not even the slightest suggestion of just how overwhelmed she is.

-

"You're not supposed to be back here," is the very first thing you hear, as soon as Xiaoting catches your reflection in the vanity mirror.

You hold up a press pass with a headshot that loosely looks like you. Like in a really dark, kind of out-of-focus photo sort of way. Xiaoting simply lets out a slightly disapproving sigh.

"Someone's probably looking for that, you know."

"What's the worst thing that could happen? Someone doesn't get to ask you what your favorite color is, or what you had for breakfast? God forbid we need to know your TMI."

She slips the crystal bracelet off the end of her narrow wrist and places it gently next to the red carpet gear strewn across the surface in front of her. A necklace. The earrings, similar in their shimmer. A matching headband, an evening clutch in white. It's all sitting, not necessarily disorganized, but it's in the mess that Xiaoting is all the while searching for things; lip gloss and makeup, small hair clips.

"You could get us both in trouble, for starters."

When she looks up at you, briefly, there's an attempt at a scolding expression - a short-lived one, how it quickly gives way to a grin, a laugh, all the things she can't help when it's you in particular.

"I'll make sure it finds its way back where I found it," and with a hand over her shoulder, "or at least somewhere close enough. If anyone asks."

Xiaoting bounces an impossibly sweet smile off the mirror at you when her eyes find yours again. And while she starts unclipping pins from her hair, lifting and tousling and adjusting the curls into a more familiar shape, you're almost entranced in the way her shoulders loosen and her eyelashes flutter. In this light, she's even more devastating: an illusion of something both fragile, and immensely resilient.

"At the very least," she says, "I won't hold my breath for anyone else to find their way into my dressing room anytime soon."

She gets a hold of a simple clip, pulls a stray strand of pink off her cheek, and tucks it behind her ear. The gesture is fluid, elegant even, and so singular.

She really is, gorgeous.

The fact that you have to occasionally remind her of that is a different maddening issue entirely. You've always wondered - and always will continue to wonder, really - why it is the prettiest girls seem to have the hardest time understanding they're beautiful. It makes you crazy, makes your head hurt.

There's an entire world worth of things for her to fixate her attention on: her job, her fans and career; a hundred more names and faces to learn - people who would probably agree to hang the stars in the sky for her, given the chance, the mere opportunity. But instead she can only bring herself to stare into a mirror and compare notes and point out all these things she doesn't feel ready for.

This interview, or her performance, or the next.

"They're talking about me. Those 'insiders'," she explains, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the voices in the hallway. "Said, my styling this past year has been too 'soft.' Too 'girly.' No one's buying it," and with a pout: "now, or then, apparently"

"Always works for me," you tell her, in a way that implies it's absolutely none of their business at the end of the day; what colors Xiaoting shows up in, how she wears her makeup and dresses, her shoes or perfume.

She floats her fingers up to the dip of her collarbone, weaving them into your hand. The contented look on her face, now a near permanent fixture in the space she keeps between the two of you, suggests that of all her accessories - gifts and borrowed things she wears in a perpetual game of dress-up - you're the one she would prefer most.

"Well," she says, fixing you a mischievous twist of her brow, "you'd say that if I was up there wearing nothing at all."

"Oh, not a doubt in my mind."

(As usual, the both of you laugh far too much.

As usual, neither of you manage to care.

Your lives have always been about soft edges. A little nonsense here and there, so long as it means having more of her.)

She brings your knuckles to her lips, careful and reserved, and holds the tips of her fingers gently to your neck. "How much more do you have tonight?"

"The rest of the hour is probably asking too much." You help Xiaoting onto her feet, arms wrapping her middle, and with a kiss dropped into her hair, you tell her, "should probably report in, let someone know I haven't gotten myself expelled."

"Thought you said you were a terrible liar."

"Oh, I am," you say. "That's just how much trouble I've already been making for myself tonight."

Xiaoting watches you kiss her shoulder, her neck, all in amusement, eyes never breaking contact as your lips brush and linger against the delicate shape of her wrist. A shiver in her exhale - almost a laugh, an 'I'm listening,' in a form of its own - and you find her body shifting into a natural and familiar hold; the outline of her mouth so unbelievably tempting when it parts so naturally - that when it comes down to a choice: Xiaoting against you, you and her in her private room, the hustle and bustle, and rush-hustle of the building and people and machines outside your door -

It really doesn't take too much convincing.

"Fifteen minutes. They'll start wondering," you tell her, already dipping forward to capture her in your arms. She falls right back, perfectly content as though she doesn't belong anywhere else. "We'd have to be really quick."

"You're bad," Xiaoting hums, winding further into your arms, smiling between the warm, warm kisses you're trailing along the collar of her dress, where the zipper is resting and ready to be drawn down.

The moment is candid: you pressing your lips into the bare skin of her shoulder, following it up with something that's part laugh, and part the kind of sigh people make after too long without sleep. You're already struggling against the curve of her waist - the swell of her hips, all her curves - while your nose nuzzles in deeper, a delicate exploration into the bend of her neck, against her shoulder, the hint of perfume. 

"Only one of us can be perfect, sweetheart." The damn truth, even if she hears it all the time and from everyone else. "You're gonna have to settle.”

You watch her expression melt into that self-composed, self-confident mien when you say it - in a quiet, contented kind of way; an ethereal sort of assurance. As though she was never meant to be touched by anyone, much less held by you, but somehow decided to allow it nonetheless. That look in her eye, it makes your heart twist. Every damn time.

"What about an accident," she muses, "something keeping you longer. Twenty maybe?"

"Oh," you chuckle. "Those happen in the hallway and parking lot. Where everyone can see. Never behind the scenes, for a totally unlikely and unrelated reason."

"Technicalities."

She turns to face you, fully, eyes lit and shimmery under the room's lighting; pink hair, all shades of glitter and silk and the smoothest, warmest skin. Your touch grazes up her sides, palms smoothing over the fine print, the sequins in the fabric, her hands all the while busy weaving, needily, around your waist, underneath the line of your shirt, finding and tracing along the ridges in your hips and spine.

Xiaoting wants you - plain and simple as that. The look on her face says as much.

And if you don't touch her now, kiss and feel her against you - all of it at once - she'll make sure you regret ever prioritizing anything over her. Over the two of you, and how perfectly and neatly you fit together, even if that means you're both absent for press calls, or a segment, or an interview she can't be late to. She'll blame you and it'll be okay.

"Fourteen minutes now," you inform her. "If it’s something you're counting."

"Give or take a few," Xiaoting smiles. Her words slip against your cheek, hot and honey-coated. It's tempting. Her teeth find your jawline and the gentle nip against your skin is hard to ignore. "Did you lock the door?"

"Believe it or not, that was the first thing I did."

And with her hips in your palms, you steal a kiss, because you can - because she's kissing you right back - her forearms wrapping over your shoulders, holding you tight around your neck, and, ahh - Xiaoting's mouth - how eagerly, so desperately, she parts your lips and slips her tongue over your teeth, humming, mumbling happily into a second and third and fourth kiss. Then, once the heat of the moment sweeps in, melting into something slower, sweeter, lingering, a little deeper, it's another.

And another after that.

She leans into you, the rise and fall, slow-down-then-start-again, of her chest and of her breathing and of the tiny, stifled noises she’s kissing into your lips. Only you're pinching the fabric around her waist, slowly lifting the hem of her skirt further up her thighs and reminding her that there's a promise for slow later, that she can take all the time in the world to map and remember the planes and edges of your body; trace the curves of every little sensitive spot and learn again how she fits into your hands, in the time and space that's left to the two of you alone.

"Thirteen-"

"Minutes," she echoes breathily against your ear and over the sound of her fingers in your belt. "I know. Got it."

Xiaoting's hasty. She has to be; reaching and fumbling to pop open your pants while the heat of her mouth finds you first, her tongue sliding smooth across your throat, chin, the warmth and the taste, then along the corner of your mouth - your tongue chasing hers and turning it into a mess that's as intimate and satisfying as it is clumsy; breath catching in both your mouths, hands intertwining, needing the contact with just as much fervent abandon.

Off, off, off, she's murmuring into you, thumbs perched dangerously on your waist, dipping into the fabric, tracing the rim, taking a tease down a little farther with each lazy caress, and, in the very back of your mind, there's a small voice in agreement that insists you are most definitely in no hurry at all.

It grows louder when the small shape of Xiaoting's palm is all the way down the rise of your pants, all over where you're beginning to grow hard - straining and twitching and almost painfully, impatiently interested. You hold her closer and clutch harder because the need is like a burn - one that's seared itself comfortably, wonderfully between your hips, where you feel each brush and curve and fond stroke of her touch.

Her eyes lift to meet yours, gleaming and knowing and laughing, no doubt aware that you're both going to be wrecked no matter which of these games she wins.

"Nothing we can't solve here and now." She tells you.

"True."

"I'll get my mouth on you later, make it all better."

"Later?" Your voice, completely a mess and breaking just enough, forces its way between a kiss that feels anything but. You're pleading for her, into her lips. "Oh, is that a promise, sweetheart?"

"A promise," Xiaoting gasps. "Or a threat. Depends how fast you're ready for me."

"Hush." And you hold her mouth open with yours, devour and drink the sounds falling from her tongue, each one that starts off shallow then trails deeper and deeper and deeper, until her hands have settled over you, and her fingers are finally pushing below the hem, and working the length of your cock, up and down and along it all.

"Hey,” she says, far too inviting, “aren't you supposed to be, like, tearing off this dress by now?"

Xiaoting smirks up at you. With a slight motion of her hand, the other having come to wrap fully around your shaft, the two fingers twisting along your tip, spreading the beading moisture into a long stroke.

"Very gentlemanly of you, wanting to keep it all nice and put together-" and with a wiggle of her brows, "-unsuspicious."

You clench your teeth through a gasp - a jolt at the sudden brush of her fingertips over the base, further down. Xiaoting has that mischief to her - she always has - a certain inclination to press and test the boundaries until they're unrecognizable, to poke and prod where she shouldn't, only the slightest bit concerned.

"Trust me, I would. Only this is a dress I can't afford to ruin, sweetheart." You're leaning her against the vanity, freeing one of her hands to press around behind her, against the cold, cluttered countertop, feeling how the sharp breath in her lungs goes soft and hot immediately, wanting.

"In that case," she tells you, a knowing tilt in her mouth, "you'll just have to ruin me in it."

That's a little closer to your budget given how fast your arm slips under her hip, pulling her up onto the vanity and angling her into you. Her skirt ruffles and follows, the material all too eager to keep you and the lithe frame of her body nice and snug together. There's that sharp gasp in her chest again, at the hand you're running up her thighs; an approval to your arrangement in the sound of her laughter, to your kiss, and all the fever-filled strokes jerking your cock that she's busying herself with again.

You can feel an urge you both share and want to make real and tangible, to peel down and past and over those tiny black panties; feel the heat rising, the wetness there, and all the eager, eager noises of her pleasure.

"Ten minutes." Your teeth are grazing into her lip, her mouth, while she whimpers so pretty into your throat. "Does that put any ideas in your head?"

"Nearly everything." Xiaoting lets your pants fall and uses the back of her heel to skid them down around your feet. "But maybe, especially your cock right here, if you’re going to slide it so slowly over me-" she sucks on her next breath, holding her hand where her panties are; smoothing against you with her hips rocking forward.

You feel her head drop, slightly, when she whispers into a heated kiss, "right between, the most tender way, where I'm aching the most."

"I bet you'd look beautiful with it," you say, all kinds of things, leaning and mumbling into her neck, all that exposed skin. "My cum on you. Sitting so good right here, in such a tight little-"

She stops your teasing with her kiss, pushing forward to the point where her ass is bumping right against your hips, your hand, your cock; coaxing you in closer.

And then, a particularly stern warning, probably warranted, sneaks out through the bite of her lip; just barely restrained: "I swear to god if you make a mess anywhere - don’t, if you know what's best for you.”

"That's a pretty roundabout way of asking me to cum inside you, Xiaoting. Wording matters."

"Telling." Her smile is all kinds of sly; all for you to witness and tuck safely in your pocket later. "Not asking."

"We’ll see what we can do with nine minutes," you tell her, and your cock is snug against the lace of her underwear - right where she's so fucking wet - you can already hear it in the little, jerking huffs in her voice and on her breath and how your hands are touching her through the fabric. How between hot, clumsy kisses, she's lifting and drawing her body as close as possible and curling into you.

(God.)

"Easy," she mouths, all hot and hazy as she drags the lacy band of elastic aside. It's your turn to inhale and jerk and gasp, but there's hardly anything there to catch you, just her whisper that says, "there you go, honey, fill me up real slow. Right to the very, very top," her voice arching high when you've begun to nudge your cock into her, opening her up and up and up with a slow, steady thrust. "Just - like - that."

And in the seconds, maybe minutes (you’re trying not to lose track), that follow, you are holding your breath against the heat blossoming through her cheek. Against Xiaoting, flushed and whimpering, hands buried in her dress and her hips starting to roll back on your cock. It's a tiny adjustment; nowhere to go but deeper, further - grinding together however you can manage.

It's one thing to love each other quietly, discretely and with all that discretion.

It's another entirely, in times like these, to give in to a raw-edge impulse that hits suddenly and leaves just as fast. Your hips snap in and in and in, Xiaoting's chest rising and rising, her head turned and pressed into the shoulder of your shirt, her hand already caught in a fistful of sleeve. And you - the friction is so soft and so good, a slick, easy glide of your cock - full - all the way to the very last inch.

Just her seedy, whimpering whine fills the back of your neck and your ear, and her arms and her legs locked in around you, like a coil ready to burst, that ache coming to a head.

The ends of her hair are soft and sweet where you gather a fistful of pink around your wrist, hold - pull, like a taut string. Xiaoting gasps a fluttering note as her chin tips up, the smooth canvas of her throat begging to be kissed and roughed up in just the right places. Reddening like the insides of her thighs, the heat there, where they're pinched around your waist - delicate little marks of where you're fucking her open and bare and deep and so well.

You could drink up each and every noise - all the keening and humming, the ruffled, strung-out sounds; how you're both breathing into a shared mess of gasping and panting, of Xiaoting whimpering into your throat, clinging on like she'll die otherwise. "Faster," she pleads all desperate and urgent. "More. Fuck this pussy like it deserves, don't you want it? So wet, can't you feeling how I'm aching?"

You can. Hot and wet and absolute.

You can feel the shudder-wreck, the absolute throe - there's not an ounce left between you; nothing but her slick, warm cunt clutching and hugging your cock, letting it stretch her apart and fill her again and again, the little ridge between your hips slipping over her clit on a forward, upward stroke and grinding there, with a shaky hand cradling her lower back for support while you drive back into the thrust.

"Ting, fucking christ - Ting, your tight little pussy is incredible." You groan into her skin. "Taking me, fucking, taking every, last, inch-"

"I can feel you fucking throbbing," Xiaoting tells you, all teasing and exasperated as she lets your name turn into a series of vibrating hums against your lips. "You're going to make me fucking lose it, the way you're hitting me inside."

See, you fit together, inside-and-outside so perfect; that when you begin to really fuck Xiaoting, when she's making it clear, over, and over, yes, harder, give it to me, and the table she's sitting on is giving away each-and-every one of her whimpers, you lose yourself in the rhythm and pace and the fact that Xiaoting's creaming cunt is working itself hot and messy and pulsating around you; so fucking tight, tight, - slick all around - almost drawing you in, then resisting and tensing every-time your cock finds just the deepest angle.

It's something to push, something that makes you greedy and drive her ass into the cabinet even more; make sure you're slipping along her walls just enough, and doing so with every few inches or less that you're managing to drive, working over a pressure so sensitive it might be making her see stars, every time a thumb digs a little deeper into her hip bone.

"All the way, baby," she's saying, whispering, making you want to fuck the words out of her in broken pieces. "So. Close. Just a little-"

She's gone, her back arched - bending into an incredible sight. And there's the most beautiful look on her face, even under the frantic-urgent rush. Your hands are all over her: pressing into the divots above her hips; petting the expanse between her tits, then down again, feeling out her ribcage, her belly, in between her thighs and parting them wider - like if she were any more spread open, she'd be coming right off the table.

Then, the thumb tangled into the sleeve of her dress, the rough pad of the other rubbing circles over her swollen clit - here you'll figure she'll cum; she's never shy about it - but it's more a question of how many times. How it always builds up and comes apart.

You're obsessed, really, with the details: her eyelids fluttering, the sounds of her skin sliding down onto the cabinets, her lips that can never get themselves closed.

"Oh, Ting," you're panting, licking all over her parted mouth, "do you need-"

Her nails begin to cut half-crescents into the small of your back, where she's been gripping at you; a moan falls straight out from her tongue, straight into your own, the closest she'll ever come to asking for anything: but it's easy.

"You're so fucking pretty, baby, I'll give you whatever you need-"

You slide your fingers higher up her folds, pushing onto her hot cunt right over the spot where your cock is disappearing inside her.

"I know that's what you need to be fucked silly, right? Need some extra friction so I can have the entire inside of this fucking cunt dripping-"

Xiaoting makes a noise that tells you, good guess. And you're playing her closer and closer to her orgasm, watching her teeth sink into her own lip, knowing that she's the one on a timer - which makes it all the easier, because you know exactly what to say next, because you've played this game enough - when you've already been fucking her and fingering her through one or two and her noises are telling you her body needs just one more, and then, the words usually roll right out, not the slightest bit contrived:

"That's it, sweetheart, you look so fucking good. So, so pretty cumming on my cock, baby. You're fucking gorgeous, you know that? I can't get enough of you."

Her mouth falls open, eyes screwing tight with it - the praise, the way you can talk her right into it every fucking time - the way it all but kills her: even when she's getting pumped full of pre-cum and sleeved around your cock like a glove, you know that sometimes the words are the only thing she's chasing, and her jaw starts to trembling just like the rest of her. This full body tension, head to toe of perfection you're whispering in her ear. She's pressing her heels harder than before against the back of your legs, digging, her whole chest shaking for a gasp of air she doesn't seem to ever be able to fully catch.

"But god, I wish you were looking at me," you're begging, sincere, with a deep sort of pining, when you get the the sharp twist of her neck, like it takes everything in her, then, like it's a miracle - those lidded, still-water eyes focused right on you. "I want to make you fall apart, just looking at me, sweetheart."

(Your poor heart. An obsession. So in love with her.)

The kiss you steal from her lips is deeper, your tongues playing a familiar song, the push, pull - how easy and perfect she fits.

When she cums, it always starts quiet, not like what she's just started doing: the kind of cries and moans that begin to make it past her teeth, desperate and panting, her fingers crushing down in place where they're pressed to your skin. Those whimpers that start quiet, get loud, fast, and then Xiaoting's arching right up from the table and clenching her entire body. With you inside her, she's so wrapped up in how good it is, the pleasure spiking past her pussy and into her veins.

"Shh," you soothe her, lovingly brushing her hair to the side when her breath shudders hard; the mess you made, sliding a palm against her cheek when the first few tears gather, the way they always do when Xiaoting's overwhelmed and torn down in such a good, beautiful way. 

You could kiss her, when you feel the curve of her trembling lips. You do, again-again; slip and wet and parted and sliding when Xiaoting lets you hold the base of her chin between your forefinger and thumb, and bring your mouths together like that.

You could hold the moment longer. Keep kissing her and not moving - except Xiaoting has that meek, "Fuck me," mumbled into your open mouth, her half-wits returning and giving her the very start of a wicked grin - all sloppy with orgasm. "However you want, whatever will make you cum fast-"

"Turn around for me. I'm going to show you how pretty you are, looking just like that-"

"Y-Yeah- '' Xiaoting is trying, her joints trembling as she moves her body. She's so good, listening, rolling onto the surface of the table with her ass up, palms spread out and supporting her into this perfect line. Xiaoting's defining the curve: where her lower back and tight little ass begins and ends, right up into her shoulders and spine. Her hair has fallen across one side, and now you can finally see how much she's blushing in the mirror, the messes that her eye makeup has smudged into, how good she's been, and now how sweet and pliable and worked open her muscles are.

The view alone could have you blowing your load before you can even do it properly inside her.

But, god - the fact that her dress was hanging down on one shoulder, then on none, exposing her naked skin entirely; the fact that you can't resist grabbing a hand around a waist-full of her body and dragging her back closer, slotting your thighs under hers and her ass up against you, cock sliding into her still-clenching cunt without the help of your hands, just finding it where it belonged. You give it to her like she's meant to take. Fast. Hard. Deep. Making sure each-time your cock is in its base-deep place and sliding right back out, pulling slick, creamy strands out from her fucked-out pussy. Bathing you in her want, her need, pooling along the base of your cock; seeping everywhere.

There's just so much of it. The sounds echoing off the empty walls, so distinct, unmistakable, so full and thick. The way your whole body seems to tighten and tense along with hers - everything tight, you can see it, your eyes sweeping from Xiaoting's thighs to the reflection of how she just takes you. Shaking each time, the lines of her body wobble forward when your hips land a heavy thrust and slide along every bit velvety-wet inside her: no room for your cum when she's this overflowing, you figure, wondering how full of it she could even get.

"Fuck," the word just slides off you. "Fucking god, you're the best fuck," you praise her. Like heaven.

Because Your hand is in her hair again, wrapped up in and smoothing over the tangles; feeling her like silk. But now you're grabbing too - holding her steady, a fistful between the roots; you want her back arched, canted just that one angle higher that you know would push her past all limits.

“Oh my god,” she gasps out, once your get her knee planted up on the counter - once she's spread herself even further for the weight of your body. "That's it - holy shit, please-more-"

There are little whispers too - stuff that makes your cock twitch a few times, pulsing in warning - not even fully aware that she's cumming down all over your waist, praises like the hottest of filth, please and yes and I need it and fuck and fucking christ, keep going and don't stop don't stop please baby I'll do anything anything-

Xiaoting's voice reaches the same high pitch she does when her clit is getting hit, not sure what part of her body you're touching or just the overwhelming sensation, but god she doesn't know which way to turn her neck and face. She just ends up taking it all in, breathing in the gravity of the moment - her reflection, yours, the feeling - a tremor building up, her eyes flickering back-forth when she realizes they've started to close, forcing herself to look at the both of you.

You fuck your cock through each inch of her quivering cunt, each one hotter, tighter, wetter than the last - until you're spilling cum - cumming deep and fast inside her -

Reaching so far she can feel the thick pool of it getting fucked further into her with every shallow snap of your hips; her ass flushing back up against your stomach. Filling her to the brim - enough to feel it drip and seep and slide.

And she doesn't stop, the way she has her hips rolling down your length and staying there, your cock rooted into her deepest spot. If there's one more thing she gets off on it's being filled, milking the remnants, emptying you, and - because she's almost fucking teasing you, you feel it when she's clenching the remaining dredges right out of your body; out and leaking hot along your over-sensitised skin. The sharp sting of it has your hands tight on her waist, her ass spilling through the gaps of your fingers - deciding what you'll do.

"Three minutes," she says, panting, "is enough-"

You squeeze through the sculpted round of her ass. Spank it. Knead it.

"You want me to fuck another one into you - can you take that? You'd be such a good girl if you can take a fucking like that."

"I mean it," Xiaoting rasps, hips still lifted and angled toward you, as she meets you in the mirror; her eyes looking past your reflection, still coming down, wrecked and fucked raw, but making the message clear. "I'll make it easy for you."

And with that's she got her hand on your still-hard cock; not nearly enough softness in her voice for the rough grip and the sloppy pumping - fucking filth out of her still, if there was ever any hope of getting it out the way she's pulling and using and moving the slick all over you, spilling it onto the floor. "Think I can make you cum again, right here and now."

The thing about Xiaoting is:

She makes bad decisions, but always with the best intentions. That's why you always know what she'll say.

Because it's almost always the same answer: a pair of crossed wrists and a coy-eagerness that's enough of an invitation for you to make use of what she's given.

And this is the exact way you find yourself dragging the fabric of her dress down her shoulder, her middle, her breasts falling back down from their bounce when you unwind it, then twisting the end tightly into itself before shoving it into the soft valley of her mouth.

I love your tits, you know that?" you tell her, mouth open and hot against her shoulder blade. “So fucking pretty all over, Ting, your entire body's amazing and it does things to me-if I could, I would keep my cum inside this tiny little pussy, over and over, keep filling it. Make your tummy swell for me, sweet baby, and never let a single drop-"

"Do it-" she moans out, words garbled by the fabric. Her eyes are wide and full of the darkest innocence, like anything could happen; anything you wished. "Do it, your fucking cock, want to feel you-"

You spank her again, and she keens.

The mirror is showing you how her chest reddens under the rush of your hands kneading at her, almost violent, before sliding down the back-insides of her thigh, pushing, "But, what you look like with my cock buried inside you, stretched out and still so fucking tiny around me."

It's not new. It's what makes Xiaoting give you the dirtiest, sexiest little hum around the cloth wedged inside her mouth.

Then her cunt clenches down on your cock, and you're groaning, "christ," watching the way her face tugs at the stretch, watching, when her back is pushed out again - the angle. You're lining up, sucking in the full and naked and glistening display of her body before letting your hips fuck into hers again. It feels even better than the first time: tightening like a vise around the thickness of you, your cum pouring back inside her, then with her eyes fixed to yours in the mirror, you get to watch her lips straining; a drooling, whimpering mess.

Then. You're slamming her waist into the table. Rough, reckless. Desperate to reach another edge, rough enough that she can barely look up from her bowed elbows, elegant features twisted into something a little more awful, a little more pretty - just there, and - and - 

A third time. Four. More.

Xiaoting's whimpering, just so spent she has nothing else left, your cock filling her up so full and hot with your spill; she's sloppy and flushed and you're pressing her up into the cool surface of the mirror, with her legs giving in when she collapses over her heels and nearly tumbles over; her own body weighing nothing.

If she asked, "carry me," in any way, you'd be on her like clockwork; you'd get her turned around into a loose-limbed pile, a leg thrown over each of her waist; she'd already have her cheek nestled against your jaw, halfway asleep, a warm bundle pressed up and waiting to get tucked into bed and swept into all of the things that would make her purr and melt; blankets and warm-clothes and showers and tending.

You'd always make a show out of sweeping her off her feet. Because the thing is, Xiaoting deserves it.

And you let her know that:

"You're always the sweetest, aren't you? Taking a fucking like that," you tell her, burying the dying gasps of a laugh right into the sweat-sticky back of her neck. You can feel her throat vibrating out a small sound, her brain almost definitely not able to formulate words, maybe only just registering the tones of your voice. "You are just so breathtakingly gorgeous, babe, the prettiest baby. The fucking world must be upside down, because no one tells you nearly often enough."

And -

Xiaoting - really, above all else, is fucking gorgeous. Because her tired laugh echoes a small part of itself straight down your spine, filling all the dips between each of your vertebrae. Genuine smile and all.

It has your skin crawling back to life, warming up.

There's a murmured 'thank you' said somewhere into the back of her hand, between her pinky finger and her ring, a small, stifled breath that pulls on her tired voice; it's a sleepy sound, like honey, and maybe that's why you choose to tell her one more time.

You glance at the clock on the wall. It's been a good fifteen-plus-extra minutes. You can live with that.

"Told you we'd be late," you say, smoothing out the fabric of her dress.

Which means this is the second time she says: "Nothing there we can’t solve with a little..."

"Carelessness?"

"Misdirection. Pretty convenient for some of us," Xiaoting murmurs with the lingering sweetness of your kiss on her lips. "Who have that charming talent with words."

She looks up, wincing and dabbing at the dried tracks on her cheeks where her eyelashes have swept away all the makeup and tears, like a soft brush sweeping away the layer of snow, she lets her head rest there in your palm and the other soothes, warm, on the back of her neck - her shoulders a little slack when you feel her whole body relax.

"Love you," Xiaoting says, after a heavy breath; a shaky exhale, just under her tongue; "even when we're a little crazy."

Your cheeks warm as they squish themselves around her grin.

"Love you. Now hold still," you say - taking it slow, kissing the damp pink curls right behind her ear. Then, for the most part, it's back to business. Back to normal.

Makeup wipes and wet washcloths. Clearing and setting the furniture upright. Hastily undoing the locks, so that to anyone who's passing by and smelling the raw, irrefutable evidence of sex and sin, they can turn away and think twice - no one's fault except the wicked thoughts swirling and forming in the back of their thoughts.

(No matter how many times you do, it's no different with Xiaoting; her smile turns the wheels in your head - still spinning. You can't help it when she laughs with her eyes still half-mast - fucked-out; a headiness, her tone like velvet.)

And the 'yes, we do,' on her breath when she hums again, is the beginning of an I-told-you-so, when you tell her, "c’mon, we've got places to be."

[s0fti3w1tch]

Another AU Leonardo?

large text: Another AU Leonardo? /end large text

Forgot I never posted her. Had her for a couple months now. Transfemme Leonardo btw :] Her name is Doremi (from the 'Do' part of Leonardo)

This is for a Casey (Cassandra)-centric I haven't talked about publicly whoops. She's Casey's childhood friend and was separated from the other turtles and raised by Draxum (and Big Mama).

Image Description: Digital drawing of Alternate Universe Leonardo from Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Details written on the side show she's named Doremi, goes by she/her, 5'5 feet tall, 16 year old, transfemme, and queer. She's drawn in a casual pose, longsword over her shoulders. Instead of canon Leo's outfit, she wears no mask, has a dark red short kunoichi-inspired sleeveless wrap dress tied with a black obi-style sash that's in a bow in the back, black bicycle shorts, black combat wraps on ankles, and black sheer + fishnet style undershirt and fingerless gloves. She also has few scattered slashing scars on her body, along with two small ones just at her left cheek. /End ID

[love-takes-work]

Reposting my old Sleeping Gems drawings, now including Bismuth

These are drawn on marker paper featuring various gray shades of Copic Marker

Descriptions follow:

Picture 1: Amethyst and Steven sleeping. They have both fallen asleep on a messy floor with activities scattered around them. Amethyst is on her back wearing a star-printed tank top, drawstring sweatpants, and socks, while Steven fell asleep in his jeans and tee shirt. He holds a fistful of her long hair in his sleep.

Picture 2: Garnet and Steven sleeping. Garnet wears sleep boxers, a short-sleeved shirt, and socks, and has her visor off. Steven, in two-piece pajamas, is sprawled across Garnet's arm but tucked into her body protectively.

Picture 3: Pearl and Steven sleeping. Pearl wears her typical tunic-and-shorts outfit and Steven is in two-piece pajamas. Steven sleeps sitting up cuddled in Pearl's lap, and a light beams from Pearl's Gem on her forehead like a nightlight.

Picture 4: Ruby and Steven sleeping. Ruby wears her usual sleeveless top and shorts, while Steven is in two-piece pajamas. They sleep on their backs, with Ruby's head at Steven's feet.

Picture 5: Sapphire and Steven sleeping. Sapphire wears her usual puffed-sleeve dress and leans on many pillows, with Steven wrapped in blankets with his head on her lap. Her hands protect his head.

Picture 6: Peridot and Steven sleeping. Steven wears a pajama shirt with a collar and Peridot is in alien-printed PJs. They sleep straight up and down next to each other with their heads on pillows, with a Cookie Cat alarm clock between them, under the same blanket but not touching.

Picture 7: Lapis Lazuli and Steven sleeping. They are in Lapis's hammock, with Lapis on her back and Steven curled on top of her like a baby with her arms protecting him. She wears her usual two-piece dress while Steven is in two-piece pajamas.

Picture 8: Bismuth and Steven sleeping. They lie on a messy floor surrounded by various weapon-planning projects. Bismuth is on her back and Steven is sleeping on top of her stomach. Bismuth wears a tank top and star-printed pants, while Steven wears his PJs.

Picture 9: Steven sleeps covered with a blanket on his downstairs couch, pictured with the portrait of his mother, Rose Quartz, in the background.

[gallaghersgal]

22. “can you feel what your doing to me” with lip 🧎🏼‍♀️

ohhhhh olive im deceased. i made this TA lip just for you too reheheheh. NSFW 18+. public sex / risk of being caught, lip having a filthy mouth. fem reader.

chicago summer heat was no joke, and only a week left of classes you were tired of outfit planning. you had grabbed a short, sleeveless dress from your closed paired with sandals and headed out the door. you didn't think much of the outfit, but halfway through class your phone lit up with a notification from lip.

gallagher: you look so fucking hot today

gallagher: stay after class?

you look to the front of the room where he sits at the professor's desk, looking bored out of his mind. you flash him a smile and press your chest out to tease him as you continue to take notes. the rest of the period passes like molasses but eventually the class is dismissed, and you wait in your seat until everyone is gone.

when the room is empty you stand from your seat, a sway in your hips as you make your way over to lip. when his fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you between him and the desk, you feel your body heat up. without a word he guides you to face the desk and presses up against your back.

"can you feel what you're doing t'me?" he whispers, the sound almost a growl. and you do feel it. his cock strains against his jeans, firm against the curve your ass. nimble fingers lift your dress as he mumbles, "door's unlocked, anyone could walk in, any minute. you wanna take that risk baby?"

you gulp, nodding and pushing back against him. "yes, please." you hear him remove his belt and your mouth waters, you brace yourself on your elbows against the desk. cool air hits your core when he pulls your panties off in one quick motion, fingers tracing through your folds. suddenly the fabric is pressed against your mouth in the same moment his cock presses to your entrance. you release a pathetic, muffled moan at the sensation.

lip chuckles darkly above you, "gonna have t'be quiet f'me. you can do that, yeah? you can be a good girl?" he asks, and all you can do is nod while his hips start to thrust sharply into you.

let’s have a sleepover at mine <3| inbox

[slvttyplum]

✮⋆˙what you guys roleplay as

nanami: santa and his elf

- he’s going to give you his present alright.

- who knows how this conversation even came about.

- wait… i do.

- he came home one day after the two of you had a conversation about bed time fun.

- he had a bag that contained two costumes

- you took them out, your eyes wide as an owl.

- a green corset like dress with spaghetti straps, with a green bow and white fur coating the outside of it

- a green thong, elf ears, fishnet stockings that clips to the main piece

- his was a furry santa sleeveless, the red pants, and a hat.

- you were giggling your ass off

- when you showed him how you looked he was drooling and whistling.

- “come sit on santa’s lap.” you sit on his lap grinning ear to ear.

- “what do you want for christmas?” he says holding onto your waist bouncing his leg.

- “hmm… i think i santa.” you say wrapping your arms around him. he smiles grabbing your legs carrying you bridal style to the room.

satoru: police and prisoner

- “no i want to be the officer.” you roll your eyes snatching the costume from him.

- “no IM going to be the officer.” you say pouting.

- he thought because of the dynamics he should’ve been the police officer

- which made you side eye him cause what the fuck?

- but you both came to an agreement.

- the costume was very short shorts, a long sleeve crop top, handcuffs, a hat, a badge, and boots

- his costume was just… an orange jumpsuit.

- you walk out swinging the cuffs swaying your hips, “i’ve heard you’ve been a bad bad boy.”

- his pupils are forming into little hearts by the second, he quickly nods.

- “i’ve been a very bad boy.”

- he’s sitting down on the couch, and he opens his legs some more as you walk in between that.

- “tis tis, i’m obligated to punish you.”

- he gulps nodding again, “please… please do.”

suguru: firefighter and a hot mom

(this is hilarious idk why)

- at this point the both of you had tons of costumes

- you weren’t sure what else to dress up as until suguru came home with a bag

- that contained two costumes

- one being a firefighter, with just the bottoms and orange suspenders with a hat.

- yours was a big see through robe with feathers on the end.

- you’re on the couch drinking wine playing into your roll and suguru walks out

- his hair in a bun his hand grabbing his bulge.

- “heard there was a fire round here.” he says putting on a voice

- you suppress your laugh uncrossing your legs, “maybe.”

- he walks closer to you still rubbing himself, “the only fire i see here is you, cause you’re hot.

- you spread your legs so he can walk in between them, “oh yeah? i got something that can put out any fire.”

- he smirks at you walking in between your legs winking, “so do i.”

choso: ups deliverer and man (lol)

- you both were going to do barbie and ken but couldn’t find the right accessories

- so you went with the oldest costume you could think of

- “wow classy.” he mutters pouting and rolling his eyes.

- you laugh handing him a box, “stop whining and put this on.”

- his eyes light up and you both go to change

- you walk out with your costume on, brown shorts, a black belt, a brown button up crop top, a tiny black bag on the side, a hat, and a box under your arm

- choso is wearing a regular black and white suit.

- “wait what the hell? why are you wearing that and i’m wearing a suit?”

- you groan dropping the box, “because sir… it’s fun.”

- he’s sitting on the couch and you walk in holding out the box with your face scrunched up

- “are you choso? here’s your package.” he rolls his eyes getting up wrapping his arm around your waist

- “when do you get off? ima hav to fix that attitude of yours.”

- you smirk, “how about now?”

toji: a devil and angel

- at first he didn’t want to do it

- but with some persuasion, he happily obliged

- you shove a bag in his face, peeking from the side smiling

- “lookie lookie at what i got.” he grabs the bag about to peek in but you snatch the bag.

- “no it’s a surprise, go get changed.” you say doing a happy dance.

- “where’s yours?” he says taking the bag from you looking around.

- “don’t worry about it, get changed.”

- after changing you both walk out and you clasp your hand over your mouth

- “oh my god you look so good.” he’s wearing small white tight shorts, and a halo over his head

- “damn… i could say the same.” you’re wearing red devil horns, a mesh red top with a red bra, and a red skirt with tights.

- “how about a devil and angel make love.”you say smiling.

- he grins walking towards you, “i’ll be so good for you tonight”

[kuni-is-daddy]

Kitty!Scara smelling other cats or people in you, and getting jealous that your spending time with people that aren’t him. So he resorts to making you smell like him by being a lil too touchy and eventually fucking, with him cumming inside of course.

Switch|Catboy! Scara x Female reader.

'Goodboy or brat?'

Word count: 1.45k

Ft: Has sub and dom themes, F/ngering, Scara is 'jealous', Mommy kink, Praising, Reader calls him a goodboy and a brat.

CW: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT PAST THE CUT! THIS IS A NSFW POST.

ScaraMasterlist | Subby cat scara | Sub wanderer

Catboy! Scara would be so surprised at first, usually when you come home he's hopelessly flicking through the channels on tv Until he hears the door click thanks to his keen senses. He'd turn his head quickly at the sound of the door opening and shifted into his purple cat form, Leaving behind a trail of thin smoke and running towards you meowing while You smile and leaned down in your heels to catch him as he purr'd at you. Licking along your neck and longing for your amazing scent.

But wait- sniff sniff, sakura? Catscara! would hiss at the smell and jump back on the floor,light on his paws and confused. In another puff of smoke he transformed back, wearing a sleeveless turtleneck and some shorts.

Cat scara! Quickly going to his cold touch starved ways after hearing you've been with your co-worker "Lani" and her pet "stokey" for tasks and even hanging out together. When you bring him out during a lunch break he's quickly hopping out your bag to run to stokey, 'the sakura animal' (He nicknamed him)' At first you and lani both think the two are going to play together, but your conversation is cut short after hearing Stokey hiss and let out light yelps after he 'fell' in the fountain. Lani yells and runs after him while you search for your own brat- Not even making it far after you look down to see him licking his paw right beside you as if he never left.

Catboy! Scara getting punished, and ohh how he wasnt expecting you to put your foot down. While your at work or out for the day he has to stay home all alone or 'find something better to do or hang out with his fox friend ajax.' He goes in your room while your gone to play with your clothes you 'left' on your neat bed, softly rutting against it only to notice they also smell like sakura blossom :((. He starts whimpering and dryly fists his length to pictures he's saved of you on his phone. But even those pictures get him worked up over your smell. He lays back in your bed against the pillow, fisting himself faster while his tail wrapped around your vacant stockings. "Hnm…Mommy please~ I-i need it, i need you please! mmm i cant- please~" He wanted mommy to punish him, just not like this.

Its 4pm and another boring day at work comes to aclose, Your eyes are drearing with heavy bags from exhaustion and All you can think of is speeding home to be greeted by your Devious yet adorable pet & lover, scaramouche. However, your daze is cut short when you hear a light knock along the side of your car window, You jump up out of shock and fumble for the keys to the car until you hear a familiar voice. "Hey! y/n? You good babes?" It sounded like a women's voice, A oddly high pitch. You side eye'd the window to see a woman in a flashy button up suit and tie, along with a big purse hanging on the side of her shoulders. It was lani, You sighed and scratched your eyes after clicking the button for the window to peak down. She peaked through the mirror while her 'fashionably' dressed black cat purr'd at the sight of you. "Oh.. Lani! Sorry- Im kinda..In a rush right now." lani hummed and pulled out her phone. "No its alright y/n!" You glanced up as her cat began slipping out the bag from her lack of attention. He pounched onto your lap, and moved in circles, quickly getting comfortable on your lap by swaying his tail further. "I- oh my gosh im so sorry y/n! Heh- I dont know whats gotten into him, He's been so restless lately." Lani put her phone in her pocket and retrieved stokey. "No no, Its fine lani. I like cats." you smiled, and lani's eyes lit up. "Wheres your cat? His name was..Rara? or something." She said. You made a straight face and looked back at lani, "Scaramouche, His name is scaramouche lani." "Ohhh scaramouche, Sorry- I always hear you shouting scara! scara! around the cafe so I didnt think his name was that long." She teased.

Of course your always shouting for that cute brat. He's always causing mischivous for your attention. Hopping on tables, Eating your lunch even though he 'claims to dislike sweet foods.' Sometimes even getting you kicked out of cafes. Cats we're always attracted to you and you never knew why. Was it your scent? Your clothes? Even poor little scara didnt understand. Well..He had reasons of his own which made your heart ache even more. His 'mother' as he said, not 'owner.' abandoned him many years ago and left him to wander the streets despairingly finding a place to call home. So, you took catscara! in after finding him hidden under his kasa hat during a rainy day of work and ever since then he's been captivated with you.

----smutt

You pulled up to your garage and stepped out the car, After a faint click from your keys the car locked and you walked out to the front door. You turned the knob and to your surprise scara was nowhere in sight, He wasnt in the kitchen sleeping on the table with cuddling his little ornament or by the couch. "Scara~? You home baby?" You put your bag down and walked throughout the house, He wasnt in the living room or kitchen..Maybe he did find something to do. You walked into your empty shared room, The door quickly closed behind you. As you turned around scara quickly caught you off guard, Grabbing you and pulling you into a sloppy kiss against the wall. At first your dissmissive about it but once you realize its him, When your cleavage pressed against his chest. He grins and proceeds further since mommy is letting him take the lead. "Mm..Scara~ I see your eager arent you? Did you learn your lesson now? Your gonna be good for mommy?" You teased him again, and trailed your hands down to his half put on boxers. "S-shut up.." He muttered and began licking on your neck, his ears furr'd down a bit.

'Looks like he did really learn his lesson.' You smiled, "At least help me with these first~" You pointed to your clothes and laid down on your bed. scara nodded, unButtoning your blouse and immedately blushing at the sight of your cleavage, hidden by your black bra. He wanted to touch you right then but stopped for your approval. "Its okay~ you've been a good boy so you can touch." With no hesitation he unclipped your straps, He held and rubbed your breast in circles while kissing along your neck. "Ah..~ mmnn.." You bit your lip from his touch, he was so quiet you swore you've never seen him more focused. "Scara~ B-baby ah…" His tail creeped up towards your thigh, softly rubbing at your skin. "Does it feel good?" Scara started sandwich'ing you inbetween him and the bed, pressing his body closer on yours. "Y-yeah~ Your doing so good for me~" he rubbed his thumb along your nipple until he saw you already in a wet daze. Scara removed his hand from your chest and moved down under your skirt as you whined out for him. "F-fuck…Your so wet mommy~ Did you miss me that much?" He rubbed his index finger around your clit.

"Mnh..Mhm…Missed my good boy~" Scara smirked again. "Hm? Your what~?" Suddenly, He inserted 2 fingers, Stretching you from the inside. "Ah~ I missed my good boy..mn..So much~" Scara moved his fingers back and forth, Thrusting into your wet slit. "Yeah- Im your good boy~ So fucking good..Just for you mommy~" With his free hand scara pulled out his length, stroking it as you pressed deeper onto his fingers. "Mn…Inside~ Scara- Hurry~" He pulled his fingers away at your request, Then licked up your juices. "Hurry? Hah- you want me that bad mommy?" "Yes~ Scara~ mmm..make me cum~" He stopped stroking his length and bucked your legs over his shoulders. Slowly, He inserted himself inside your warmth. "Ah- Oh shit mommy~ nh..You feel so good." Scara held onto your waist, Moving in and out of your wet hole with sharp moans. He was so fixated on fucking you his tail couldnt stop swaying back and forth behind him as your nails dug into his skin. "Scara~ Mmm Faster please! ah~ oh god.." Your tongue lolled out a bit at his pace, scaras hips bucked back and forth while your skin slapped together. "Nnh Yes-Ah~ I'll go faster for you mommy! I'm your good boy~ Ah! I'm close- I'm gonna~ y/n!!" Scara dug into your neck again, sticking his tongue out then biting into your shoulder. You moaned out in a mix of pain and pleasure While his warm seed coated your walls.

After calming down from your high, your vision seemed a bit blurry as if all your exhaustion from earlier kicked in. You leaned back in the pillow sighing and wiping the drool off your lip. Through your hazy gaze scara pulled away, purring as he pulled out and licked his own lips. His tail still swayed but more calmly. he noticed your tired form and tried cleaning you up as best as he could. Then pulled a blanket over your body. He disappeared in a form of purple smoke while your vision clouded and was replaced with catscara. His ornament dangling in your face as you drifted to sleep.

//Character tropes🧍//

Lani. Aka 'Dum human'-(Scara calls her that): Too rich to 'work' and have a job yet has to anyway because of her parents. You helped her out on her first day and ever since then she's clinged onto you like 'an annoying bug'. Deeming you as her 'bestie with the bad cat'

Stokey: Lani's glamour'd cat who doesn't like scara after the fountain incident. He wished he had Y/n as a owner rather than lani since she spoils him too much and wants more genuine time with her, despite that he loves when she gives him warm baths and trips to work because he can see you work with Lani.

THIS WAS FUN TO WRITE 🤭TY FOR READING

[supercap2319]

Clark guides Y/N into a seedy bar. The lights are dark, and country-rock music blares in the background of the speakers. People are dancing and surrounding the bar. Clark, clad in a tight sleeveless black muscle shirt, huge smile on his face. As he rounds the corner of the bar with Y/N, who is dressed a bit more conservatively than most of the bar's male patrons. He thought they might be going out to a movie or dinner, but he never expected a bar.

"This place is great!" Clark smiled.

"I guess. Not exactly what I was expecting." Y/N said.

As the two walk past the bar, two men turn and eye Y/N appreciatively, being very obvious about their actions, commenting to each other about the 'twink on legs.' Clark notices, and with an angry look on his face, steps threateningly toward the men. "What the fuck are you looking at, huh?"

Y/N steps in between Clark and the men. "Clark, I'm fine! I'm fine." He gives the men a look and pushes Clark away from them. The two men give Clark looks like they want to fight, but Y/N turns Clark around before he can see it. Clark grins widely as he looks out at everyone around them having fun.

"You want a beer?"

"What?! No! And since when do you drink?"

"Well, if you don't want to drink, then let's dance!"

"Clark, are you high or something? This place isn't us. Let's go somewhere else and talk." Y/N begs.

"Oh, come on, Y/N. Loosen up. You're so tense. Question is, how tight are you?" Clark smiled filthy. Before Y/N can answer, a pretty girl in a red short dress comes up to them. "Feel like a dance, Handsome?"

Clark grins and looks at Y/N. "I'll be back." He watched the pair as the girl wrapped her arms around his neck as Clark's hands got lower on her waist. They swayed to the music for a bit before Clark dipped his head down, moving to kiss her, but Y/N walked over to them. "I'm leaving."

"Y/N, we just got here. Clark pulls a $100 bill from his pocket and holds it out to Y/N. "Why don't you, uh, go get us some drinks? We'll all have a good time."

"You are unbelievable! What happened to telling me the truth?"

"What happened to 'You can spend time with whoever you want'?" Clark countered.

"Is that the way you want it?" Y/N asked, upset. Clark looks him up and down. "Sure. There's enough of me to go around. I have nothing against a threesome." He grins.

Y/N shakes his head in disbelief and turns to go. Clark grabs his arm. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Clark, let go of me." Y/N said.

"Come on. I'll rock your world." He leaned down and kissed him on the lips.

[crueisummer]

𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝓒𝓛16

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

summary: Kika and Pierre invite you to their engagement party where you meet her and Pierre’s friends from F1, specifically, a certain handsome Monegasque driver.

playlist: ♫ gorgeous ♪ delicate ♬ i think he knows ♡ you are in love

author's note: Hello everyone! Please be patient as this will be my first fanfic/au. Anyway, this would be part of a series, and each song from the playlist above would be the title of a chapter. I still don't know what to call the series, so if you have any suggestions, please send them my way. Anyway, thanks for reading, and enjoy the story! ✧･ﾟ:૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა✧･ﾟ:

chapter warnings: a lot of swearing.

word count: 1.7k

disclaimer: All characters and events in this story, even those based on real people, are entirely fictional.

                𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬

01:58 ━━━━●───── 03:29 ⇆ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻ ılıılıılıılıılıılı ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮

Your car pulled up in front of the restaurant’s door. Your security guard got out of the shotgun seat and opened your car door. Everyone started to go crazy when they saw you. The lights of the paparazzi’s camera flicking every millisecond, trying to get a photo of every move you make. There’s security on your left and right, protecting you.

The door to the restaurant opened and there was a receptionist holding a clipboard.

"Y/F/N Y/L/N." You smile as you look at her. Their eyes widen and mouth gaped before gesturing for you to go follow the usher. You took an elevator and got off on the rooftop. You walked in and looked around, amazed at the beauty of the place. There were a lot of tables and booths, some afloat on water. There's a lot of people and caterers walking around with food and drinks.

Everyone is dressed in semi-formal attire which made you sigh in relief for your outfit. You are wearing a sparkly sleeveless jumpsuit that showed off your curves and just a bit of your skin.

As you made your way into the party, there were a lot of familiar faces. Celebrities, actors, athletes. You saw Kika and Pierre in a booth in the middle.

"Show me the ring!" You scream as soon as you see your best friend. She turns around and laughs at you.

"Well, hello to you too!" She giggles as the two of you hug. You pull away quickly to see her left hand. A big diamond rock sitting on her ring finger.

"Wow. You sure have taste, Gasly, I'll give you that." You smirked at Pierre and hugged him too.

"Congratulations, you guys! So, am I a bridesmaid?" You joke at Kika, fluttering your eyelashes. You have been best friends for 3 years now, having met at a Louis Vuitton fashion show during Paris Fashion Week. Since then, you and Kika were inseparable. You both understood and supported each other.

"Cut the crap. You know you're maid of honor." She says smirking.

"Oh my god! I love you so much!" You scream and wrap your arms around her. You’ve never been a maid of honor and somewhere in the back of your mind, a memory clicked. You remembered that you and Kika promised to be each other’s maid of honor.

The couple laughs at your reaction and Kika tells you she’ll set up a meeting soon about the wedding, she’s going to be needing help. You nod right away. The grooms are always no help when planning a wedding. Just then, a guy comes up from behind you and greets them.

"Speaking of, here's the best man!" Pierre walks closer to him and does that guy hug thing. The mysterious man was slightly taller than Pierre and was wearing a white unbuttoned shirt and some khaki shorts. He looked good.

"Charles!” Kika greeted. Charl? Is he French? It's the French that don't pronounce the "s" at the end of their names, right?

He kisses Kika's cheeks while he and Pierre talk a bit in French and laugh. You didn't realize you were staring until Kika introduced you to him.

"Y/N, this is Charles, he'll be Pierre's best man." Kika says and you turn to face him. He kind of has a boyish face but his piercing green eyes and stubble that ran from chin to jaw makes him look mature. He looked gorgeous.

"Hi, I’m Charles." He says while extending his hand. He looks into your eyes while talking to you and you almost melted. You shyly look at your hands and look back again at his eyes, to see that he didn’t remove his gaze. Those eyes. How wonderful it would be to get lost in them.

"I’m Y/N." You smile shyly. You were getting shy. You never get shy. You always had the upper hand and was very confident in yourself when meeting new people. But somehow, someway, you can’t say anything.

You take his hand and shake it. You felt like you were drugged when your hands met. It put you on a high, one you want to be in for the rest of your life.

“So happy to finally meet you. You know, they always talk about you and sing your songs, especially Pierre.” Charles says, to make small talk and show that he is friendly and approachable.

“Oh, does he know? He always says my songs are cheesy.” You say while smirking at Pierre, Kika laughing her ass off. “Although I do have a video of him dancing to You Belong With Me.”

Kika’s eyes widen immediately, and the couple looks at each other. Pierre’s face is red from embarrassment. He exclaims, “You told me you didn’t send her the video!”

While the two bickered, you didn’t notice Charles was now standing closer to you. “You know, I would love to have a copy of that video,” He whispers. He was so close that you could smell his perfume.

Before you could reply, Kika is shoo-ing the guys. “Anyway, me and Y/N are gonna do some girl talk now.”

“Look for me later if you want the video.” You whisper to Charles, and he smirks before leaving with Pierre. Charles turns around and winks at you. It caught you off guard, but you smiled. When he looks away and turns back around, you look at Kika and see she was on her phone. Oh my god. The greatest thing that has ever happened to you and your best friend was on her fucking phone.

Kika looks up on her phone and was about to talk to you when she gets dragged into another booth. She looks at you and mouths, “Later.” But you wave her off, you know you can’t hog the host of the party.

You roamed around the party talking to everyone but Charles. You caught up with Kika’s friends; some you met before, some you haven’t. You got along with the other bridesmaids which erased the worry from the back of your mind that you might not get along.

One group of girls were calling themselves “WAGS” and laughing. It seemed like an inside joke, so you whispered to Kika, “What the fuck is a WAG?” and she laughs.

“Wives and girlfriends of professional athletes.” Your face scrunched up in disgust and she nodded her head. “I know, right?”

Good thing Kika was there to tell you that the girls who were calling themselves WAGS are in a relationship with F1 drivers. Kelly and Max, Carmen and George, Heidi and Daniel, Sara and Lance, Lily and Alex, Louise and Kevin, and Egle and Nico.

Some of Pierre’s single friends did try to hit on you, though. But you brushed them off and established being friends with them when they tried to ask you out.

While talking to everyone, you forgot to count how many shots and drinks you’ve been taking. You realized that you were drunk when as you were going to the bathroom, you didn’t take time to adjust to the dimmed lighting and you missed a step and almost fell. Thankfully, a pair of arms came out of nowhere and caught you.

“Est-ce que ça va, mon amour?" Are you okay, love? Charles. You talked to everyone in this party, and this voice you only heard for five minutes but instantly recognize it. He picks you up and you both try to steady yourself.

“Oui, merci.” Yes, thank you. Based on the context of you falling, you assumed that he asked if you were alright. You giggled as you tried your hardest to copy his accent, even though you were flat out drunk.

You lost your balance again and Charles gently set you down to sit on one of the steps. One of his hands going to the small of your back, careful not to hit your back.

Once you were settled, he squats in front of you, a shocked look on his face. He asks, “Tu parles français?" You speak French?

With the dimmed lighting and how close your faces are, you can see just how perfect his face is. He looks like a god.

“What?” You gave up. Your knowledge of the French language only limited to “yes”, “thank you” and “I love you.”

“You understand?” His Monegasque French accent lingering when he talks in English. His grammar is fucking adorable.

“No, I just know a few phrases from travelling to France.” You smile sheepishly. Leaning your head on the wall, “Is it good, though?”

“Yes, yes. Your accent almost fooled me.” He smiles at you. Your stomach is feeling crazy. Is this what it feels like when they say they “have butterflies in their stomach?” Because this feels like a fucking zoo.

“So, I haven’t seen you all night. Have you been ignoring me?” He asks you. You can’t tell if he’s flirting or if it’s a genuine question.

“Hmmm, maybe?” You took a chance and flirted with him. Pretending like you were ignoring his eyes and then looking at him and laughing.

“Why? What did I do?” He pouts. I think he knows that he’s beautiful. Otherwise, he would not have any confidence in pouting in front of a girl, right?

“Hmm, didn’t I tell you to look for me? And not the other way around?” You reminded him.

“Ahh, yes. My apologies, cheri.” He apologizes. His metallic rings startling your warm skin as he takes your right hand and kisses it. You were shocked, eyes wide.

“Can you forgive me, mon amour?” He takes your left hand and kisses it too. With his puppy eyes, he leans closer, still holding both of your hands near his lips.

“I- I-” He looked so gorgeous; you couldn’t say anything. He caught you off guard and your tongue couldn’t form any word. Your brain having a hard time comprehending what was happening.

You nodded your head and he smiled at you. You knew that he was thinking that he had the upper hand, but right now, while he is holding your hands and his face so close to yours, you didn’t mind.

"Apology accepted, mon amour." You try to copy him. His eyes shine when he hears you talk in his mother tongue.

"I have to ask, do you really want Pierre's video, or do you just want my number?" You smirk at him. You try to catch him off guard but he chuckles and smirks back at you.

"Can't a man have both?"

...

↠ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞

[lagataprrr]

is it possible to get a short blurb of Satoru and plus size girl friend and how they go costume shopping, and he sees reader staring at a ghost face mask

hehehe

OH! I LOVE THIS

I hope this satisfied your ask <3 currently still working on chapter five of the series and its taken me longer bc kind of stuck on a scene lol

Ghost face Mask

"What about this one?" You ask, and Satoru looks up from the rack of costumes he was looking through to look at you. He raises a brow at the costume in your hand of what seemed to be a sexy witch, it was a long dark purple sleeveless dress, that had a slit that probably stopped high enough on your thighs. It brought purple gloves and a black witches hat and a garner belt for the exposed thigh???

Satoru's mind began playing a scene of you coming out of his room dressed in it, how sexy you'd look prancing around in it while wearing your hot platform boots. He could see himself dragging a hand up the slit of the dress, caressing your calves and up your thick thighs. In fact it would be so easy to slip his hand between your thighs and touch your pu-

"Baby?" Satoru is snapped out of his daydream at your voice. Clearly knowing the look on his face as you let out a laugh, putting the costume back on the rack and walking elsewhere.

"Wait," Satoru pouted, grabbing it and stuffing it into the basket he was carrying for you. "I like this one too."

"Toru, I only need one costume. You've said yes to four of them, we're gonna have to choose one."

"We can get all of them."

"Halloween is only one night."

"It can be halloween every night if you just wear these for me." He says, arm wrapping around your waist, as he presses a smooch on your cheek. You giggle and softly push him off from his antics.

"Let's find you a costume." You say as you pulled his hand, finding the men's costume area. Eyes scanning through the many options, as you found a couple of possible ones. "What about this one?"

"You want me to be your sexy doctor, hmm?"

You grin, stepping over to him as you leaned into him dramatically. "Oh yes, doctor. Somethings terribly wrong with me."

His hand comes to your waist again, dramatically dipping you back and lifting one of your legs up making you squeal. "Of course, my sexy patient, I as your doctor will do a thorough full body check up," He says, momentarily letting go of the basket on his other hand to grip the thigh of the leg he'd raise. "Starting with the most vital place." Unabashedly patting your inner thigh, so fucking close to your cunt.

"Satoru!" You gasp, laughing loudly, probably catching the attention of a few onlookers but paying them no mind. He leans down and kisses you a couple of times before letting you stand normal again, still attached to your lips. You're giggling into the kisses, never a dull day with your boyfriend. He picks up the basket again and takes the costume from your hands and puts it in it. "So that one?"

"We can keep looking, you already have a sexy nurse one picked out so I can match it. Now let's find one about a wizard or warlock or something so I can match that sexy witch costume." You shake your head and glance around the racks, though your eyes caught a white mask that was hanged up near a corner of a display. Walking over and pulling it off the mass of masks from the wall and suddenly it was you who were having lewd thoughts about this costume.

A ghost face mask. And suddenly you're remembering all the hot tiktoks you'd seen on your for you page, about girls having a fun time with their boyfriends while wearing the mask. And fuck, you could definitely see Satoru in this.

He'd be standing on the doorway to your bedroom, mask on, his full on toned chest on display, delicious rippling abs and toned V on his hips leading down to a pair of black pants and boots covering his lower half. And then it was an image of you being fucked by him, ghostface mask still on, you're on your stomach, his full weight on you as he had both your hands behind your back. Cock dragging in and out of your pulsating cunt. The skin of your ass and thighs rippling at his hard thrusts, the contionous sound of skin slapping against skin.

All the while you're staring at the mask, Satoru caught on to the look on your face. Blown out pupils, completely out of it in your little head and he has the biggest smirk on his face. He takes quiet steps towards you and stands directly behind you, a hand slowly gripping your hip to pull you back into him. This makes you look back at him, now out of your little daydream.

"We're definitely getting that."

You clear your throat, a nervous laugh stumbling out of your lips. "What? Why?"

"I've seen your TikTok for you page while you've showered." And your jaw drops, he smirks at you, hands grabbing the mask out of your hands as he walks away to look at other costumes. "Come on baby, the faster we find other costumes the faster we can get home so I can put on the mask."

Credits to @super-marvel-dc for the gojo divider!!! the Ghostface pic I found online and added a purplish filter on it for the purposes of this blurb

I've added this to the Blame it on the Club's Playlist| Series Masterlist, under Blurbs :))))))

Tag List:

@bankaixx

@shiftinghoe

@uniquecutie-puffs

@thewomans-stuff

@plathsotherib

@lanaismotherrrrrrr

@fangirllookingforlife

@tluvr777

@sunehry

[noisynaia]

Santi telling you to “put your hands on the headboard and hold tight” 🙈 I feel like this could definitely apply to him having you sit on his face or for doggystyle but I can’t decide on one or the other

𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

Thank you so much for the (very hot!😮‍💨🥵) request. I had so much fun writing for Santi! 💕

summary: You and Santiago's friendship took a turn a few months back when you decided to start being friends with benefits, resulting in you now having the best sex of your life on a regular basis. The only problem with this otherwise perfect arrangement is that you have been deeply and utterly in love with him for years.

pairing: Santiago "Pope" Garcia x afab!reader

word count: 4.7k 

note: Explicit (18+). Drinking. Established friends with benefits. Vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, squirting, unprotected P in V (with use of contraception), creampie. Love confessions. Friends with benefits to lovers. No use of (y/n). Writer's first time writing for the character. This has not been beta or proofread and English is not my native language.

It’s a Friday night and you and the guys are sitting at your usual table in your usual dive bar, the stale air is thick with cigarette smoke and the loud sound of happy bar goers is roaming through the room, deafening out the sound of whatever song that’s being played from the speakers. It really is a perfect night. The beers are cold, the conversation is flowing and spirits are high.    

Frankie, Benny and Will are in the middle of an animated conversation. Benny is telling about something that had happened to him earlier in the week, it’s filled with much laughter and you try your best to look like you’re invested in the story, trying to laugh when the others are laughing and nod when it feels appropriate, it must be interesting cause Will and Frankie seem to be greatly entertained by whatever it is Benny is saying, but you just can’t focus on what’s being said - not when Santi is sitting right across from you. You can feel his hot gaze burning you, his jaw slightly clenched and his dark eyes aflame whenever you sneak a glance at him.  

The low, warm light of the bar is highlighting the handsome features of his face, the light sometimes catching his dark eyes just right, giving them a golden hue that sends a warm rush through you. His fingers tapping at the neck of his beer.   

You have always been fascinated by his hands, always felt drawn in by them. And now that they have drawn your attention you can’t help but focus on them, the way his fingers wrap around the beer bottle, fingertips leaving marks on the condensation of the cold glass. You are even more aware of them now that you know how they feel on your naked skin, how they feel as they push into you. You take a swig of your beer, suddenly feeling very, very hot even though the only thing that’s covering you is the short sleeveless dress you’re wearing, a dress that you wouldn’t normally wear for a casual night out with the guys. You would never admit it, but you had had Santi in mind earlier when you put it on before he had came to pick you up. 

Frankie had nonchalantly mentioned that Santi has been picking you up a lot lately which isn’t untrue, the comment just a simple observation but the it had made you nervous nevertheless. You don’t want the other guys to get the wrong idea - or more like the right idea actually. You and Santi are fucking, it had started a few months back. 

Santiago had driven you home after one of Will’s bbqs. You had been sitting in his car outside of your house, something in the air felt different that night, you couldn’t figure out at the time if it was just your tipsy mind that had made it up or what. You still don’t know which of you had been the first to lean in. But no matter who it was that started it you had ended up kissing

That first kiss had turned into a heated makeout session which had ended with you pulling him with you inside your hours and into your bedroom.  

You and Santi are now having sex on a regular basis and it is the best sex you’ve ever had. You had been a little scared in the beginning that it would ruin your friendship or make things awkward, but nothing of the sort has happened yet and it does really seem like the perfect arrangement, and in many ways it is, the only problem is the fact that you are deeply and utterly in love with him. The fear of you accidentally spilling this deep secured secret is always nagging in the back of your head. You are sure that he doesn’t feel the same way, why should he? He has never given any indications that he is having those types of feelings for you. 

You have promised yourself that you will ignore your feelings, even though it’s tough. You will rather have him as a friend and fuck buddy than not have him at all. So you just try to enjoy the thing you have going for as long as possible.

You are happy when Santi exclaims that he is going to leave, turning to you. 

“Are you okay with that? I’m sure you can drive with Will or Frankie if you don’t want to leave yet.” He says, knowing damn well that you are more than okay with going with him.

“No, no, I’m going with you. My house is just on the way for you, much easier.” You try to sound as casual as possible, but probably failing, the guys know exactly where your house is. 

You say your goodbyes to the guys before turning to the door to leave with Santi not able to see how the three remaining men at the table are chuckling at how obvious the two of you are.        

–

The drive back to Santi’s place is passing mostly in silence. His hand is firmly planted on your thigh, the hem of your short dress not doing much to cover you, his fingers spread wide as they gently dig into your exposed skin. His touch is making a hot shiver run through your body. He keeps sneaking glances at you every chance he gets, his lips slightly parted as he lets himself enjoy the view of your near desperate state before he again brings his eyes back on the road. You can’t help but squeeze your thighs tightly together, squirming slightly in your seat as the warm throbbing of your cunt increases.

You barely make it inside the door before Santi’s hands are on you again, his lips crashing onto yours. You sneak your arms around him, your fingers grabbing the curly locks at the back of his head.   

Your entire body is feeling like it’s aflame as Santi’s warm hands are roaming you. His hot kisses are overwhelming in the best way possible and so very addictive. You feel like your senses are on overload, the intoxicating smell of his cologne is hitting your nostrils, it’s deep, musky and delicious. Your body is feeling ultra sensitive to his touch, and you are now afraid that no one else’s touch will ever be able to compare.  

He tightens his grip on you slightly. You let out a little whine as your core gets pressed a little firmer against him, the feeling of the hard cock under his jeans is making your stomach do a flip from excited anticipation. You feel how the throbbing in your cunt intensifies as he begins to slightly grind against you, your panties already soaked with your need for him.   

“Bedroom… Please.” You gasp against his lips before gently nibbling down on his shoulder.

“Of course, hermosa.” He groans, before connecting your lips again in a desperate kiss like his tongue is on a mission to explore every corner of your mouth, his voice a little huskier than normally, clearly, he is as fired up as you are.   

You both kick off your shoes before stumbling out of the hallway, managing to make it through his bungalow without breaking the kiss until you reach his bedroom door on the other end of the house. 

He finally breaks the kiss as he pushes the door open, looking at you through heavy lids, pupils blown wide with lust and his mouth slightly agape as he gasps for air, his eyes fixating on your lips as you let your tongue glide over them. You love the way he looks at you like you are the only person in the world and you probably look the same way at him, but you can’t help it.           

You are just finding him so fucking attractive. His strong sculpted brows and sharp jaw that is adorned by his short salt and pepper beard, in stark contrast to the immense gentleness of his dark eyes. You are so captivated by him. You connect your lips again in a needy, hungry kiss, bringing your hands to the zipper of your dress, impatiently yanking it down and sliding the thin straps off your shoulders, making the garment fall from your body,  landing around your ankles and making you stand in only your panties and bra. You shiver as his warm calloused hands explore your exposed skin. His fingers sliding over your bare arms and up your spine before bringing them behind your back, ghosting over the clasp of your bra. 

“Can I?” He whispers against your lips, making you hum an ‘of course’ into his mouth. 

He unclasps it and you let the straps fall from your shoulder, making the item fall from your body. Santi breaks the kiss, stepping back a little to look at you.    

“Geez, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” He lets out as he cups one of your now exposed tits, gently squeezing at the plump flesh as he bows his head down to your collarbone, his mouth sucking down before gently gracing your skin with his teeth. He lets go of your breast with his hand to instead move his mouth from your shoulder down to your hardened nipple. You let out a weak moan as he takes it in his mouth, sucking hard while pinching your other nipple between his fingers. His actions are making you let out the most desperate sounds and you know how much it amuse him when he makes you whine and whimper.  

He detaches his mouth from your tit with a pop of his lips, locking eyes with you, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Come on, hermosa.” He says, guiding you backwards towards his beds until the back of your knees hits the side of the mattress. “Lay back for me.” He tells you, with a mixture of command and amusement.

You do as he says, laying yourself down on your back as he follows you, crawling onto the bed as he places a hand on each side of your head, hovering over you while smirking down at you. His dark brown eyes that you love so much are burning you from the intensity of his gaze. 

“Fuck, baby, you have me all riled up, teasing me all night with that short little dress. Couldn’t even concentrate on anything the guys said, not when you looked so good.” 

“I wore it for you.” You admit, your voice is low and a little shaky.  

“Really?” He grins down at you, and a mix of amusement and pure filthy lust flickers over his eyes. 

“Yeah.” You confess with a little nod, too fired up to feel ashamed by it.

“Shit… You did that on purpose, wanted me to sit there with a hard-on in front of our friends?” He hisses. 

You squirm a little at his words, a little proud that you had that effect on him. He plants his hands on your thighs, gently massaging the soft skin. 

“Want to taste you, baby.” He says, looking deep into your eyes. “Can I?” He echoes his own words from earlier. 

“Mhm.” You hum, nodding desperately at his proposals which makes him smile.   

He positions himself between your legs, burying his face between your thighs and inhaling deeply as he nuzzles his nose against your soaked panties, rubbing your clit through the delicate fabric which makes you let out a little whine.

He turns his head, his stubbles prickling against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, sending a hot shiver through your body and a gasp escape from your parted lips. He licks the soft skin before leaving a sloppy kiss, sucking at your inner thigh before he crawls up and leaves another kiss to your lips.   

He offers you a sly smile as he pulls away from your mouth, moving back down, prompting himself up on his hands to hover over your lower body, he locks his eyes with yours as he lowers his face over your clothed pussy. He is still making intense eye contact as you feel his warm breath against your needy cunt. He slowly leans in closer until he is only a few centimeters from the waistband of your panties before he delicately takes the lace between his teeth. He starts to slowly, painfully slowly, slide the fabric down your legs. He is not breaking the eye contact for even a second. 

You can’t help but emit a series of near pitiful sounds, whining desperately by the sight of him, he is out of this world. He lets out a deep groan through his clenched teeth as he brings the panties further and further down your legs until you finally can slide your feet through them. He sits back on his calves, the panties still in his mouth smiling down at you as the lace hangs from his lips. He lets out a playful groan before spitting them out in his hand. 

“I think I’m gonna keep these.” He says with a cocky smile on his lips, slipping your underwear into the back pocket of his jeans, and fuck it’s so hot!

He leans back down as you spread your legs even wider. He buries his face between your thighs once again, this time with no barrier between you, giving him full access to your exposed pussy, glistening and dripping from your arousal and he digs in with a hunger and a neediness that makes your legs shake. He licks a broad stripe through your folds, lapping hungrily into you before taking your clit between his lips, sucking at it with an almost furious strength that has you whining from pleasure. He keeps working his magic, switching between licking into you and sucking down at your sensitive clit. 

He has you soaked. His saliva and your arousal mix into a wet mess at your entrance, which starts to drip down your thighs. He hums into your pussy, the vibration making you moan. He keeps working his tongue on you, beginning to solely focus on sucking on your clit as he brings one of his thick fingers to your entrance, making sure to coat it with your wetness before he slips it into you, slowly pumping it in and out before adding another, making tangle your own fingers in his hair, which only riles him up even more. He is now pumping his fingers at a savage pace, still operating his skillful mouth on your nub.

It is all too much, too good, your eyes are squeezed tightly shut as you whimper. The strong pleasure in your core is reaching a new high, the intense stimulation of his tongue on your clit along with his skillful fingers are making you see stars and suddenly without any warning hot liquid gushes out of you, drenching Santi’s hand and face. It’s dripping down your ass, forming a wet stain on his bedsheet, but he just keeps going. Your squirting only makes him even more devoted to your pleasure and an overwhelming orgasm is approaching you.

“Fuck, Santi!” You wail.  

He detaches his mouth from your pussy with a wet sloppy sound, wanting to see you as you come, but he keeps pumping his fingers into you as your cunt clenches around them. Your body fills with bliss as your climax washes over you in hot waves. His fingers riding you through it.  

“Fucking hell, baby. You always taste so good, I can’t get enough of you.” He smiles at you as you come down from your high. “And what a pretty little mess you made.” He almost coos as he plants a hand on the wet spot on the bed. 

“Yeah, sorry about that.” You say, as you catch your breath, but you know how much he loves when you squirt for him, so you aren’t really sorry. 

“No, no.” He says while shaking his head. “None of that, you know how hot I think it is.” He says, making you giggle a little at the predicted answer.

His face is soaked, beard glistening with your juices and you just have to kiss him. You prop yourself up on one of your elbows, stretching your other arm out for him, cupping the back of his neck to guide him down to kiss you which he happily does, making you taste yourself on his soft lips.         

“Want me to suck you off?” You ask in between kisses, but he shakes his head. 

“Nah, I just want to be inside you, hermosa. Almost came in my pants from that sweet pussy of yours.”

“Then get out of them and fuck me, Santiago.” You purr in a low voice. “And I don’t want you to hold back.”

Your  need for him is big, making you want it rough . But there is a little more to it, it’s easier when it is rough, it makes it all feel a little more distant which is something you need if you want to continue this thing you have going on with him. You can not let your true emotions show and risk ruining everything between you, not just your little arrangement, but your friendship too.      

“As you wish.” He groans, biting down on your lower lip before letting go of to get off the bed. He is pulling off his shirt, throwing it carelessly through the room without ever breaking eye contact with you, unbuckling his belt and wanking off his pants and underwear, groaning with relief as his cock finally gets free from the tight enclosure of his jeans. 

The sight of his cock sends a warm rush through your body, already feeling ready for him again. His thick shaft is throbbing and dripping with precum.   

“How do you want me?”

“On your knees” He answers. “Want to look at that perfect ass as I fuck you, hermosa”

His words make you squirm. You turn around, getting on your knees and plant the palms of your hands on the mattress to get in position. Santi lets out a low groan from the view of you, on all four, ready for him to take you. He crawls back onto the bed, placing himself behind you. 

He plants a hand on your waist, his thumb stroking back and forth over your warm skin, with his other hand, he gives your ass a teasing slap, the sound hitting your ears and makes you excited for what’s about to happen. You whine out a pleased ‘fuck…’ as you feel the soft flesh of your ass jiggle slightly.

He leans in over you, his broad chest pressing against your back as he plants a series of kisses at the top of your spine and your left shoulder blade.  

“Hands on the headboard, baby.” He whispers into your ear, taking one of your hands in his and guiding it to the headboard of his bed before biting softly down on your earlobe “Hold on tight for me, muñeca, you said I shouldn’t hold back, remember?” He grins as he sneaks an arm around your torso, cupping one of your tits, squeezing it with his broad hand. His mouth is moving down to your shoulder again, his teeth teasingly scraping over the skin.  

He is lining himself up against your entrance, teasingly rubbing his cock against you as he coats himself in your juices.

“Please, Santi, need you inside of me.” You whine out impatiently. 

“Fuck, baby, then you shall have me.” He hisses and gets ready to slide inside of you. 

You moan loudly as he slips his cock into you, filling you to the brim before slowly sliding out of you again only to slam back into you again. He begins with a slow and steady pace, every thrust deep and precise, but he is soon picking up his pace, making your toes curl and biting down on your lower lip. His rhythm soon turning downright savage.   

Santi’s hips slam loudly against your ass as he fucks you. Your knees are being pushed deeper into the soft mattress with each of his savage thrust. The feeling of Santi’s cock filling you is so amazing it has tears prickling at the corner of your eyes. You are so worked up, the angle he’s hitting you with is utter perfection. Every strong thrust hits deep and purposefully, hitting your g spot and making you whine with pleasure. Santi is groaning behind you, hissing filthy praise about how tight you are and how well you take his cock. 

“You like that, huh, baby? Like being stretched out by my cock?” Santi groans through gritted teeth, pulling almost all the way out of you before slamming right back into you. 

“Yes, Santi! Fucking, love it!” You cry out, your grip on the headboard so tight that it almost hurts. 

“Love being in you. Love being the one to make you feel good.”  He hisses.    

His hands are firmly squeezing your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he is pushing you back on him everytime he thrust into you, the sound of your skin slapping against his reverberates loudly through the room, mixing with his groans and your whines and moans as well as the loud creaking of the bed that shakes violently under you. 

The warm pool of pleasure in your lower stomach is reaching a new high, the feeling is making your head go dizzy. He is bringing you closer and closer with each of his strong thrust.You feel your second orgasm approaching. 

“Hermosa, I-I don’t think we sh-” Santi pants out. But he doesn’t get to finish his sentence as your climax rushes over you, making your cunt clamp tightly around him, squeezing his cock which was the last string that needed to be cut for his own overwhelming climax. You moan out from hot pleasure as you feel his warm release coating your walls, loving the feeling of being filled to the brim. Your clenching cunt milking every drop of his cum as he keeps thrusting into you, pushing it deep inside you.

Both of you, riding out your orgasms until you physically can’t anymore. Santi rests his forehead on your shoulder blade as he collapses, sneaking his arms tightly around before rolling over on his back and taking you with him so you lay on top of him, your back is being pressed firmly against his chest, his softening cock still inside of you. The two of you lay like this for a while, Santi nuzzling his face against the side of your neck, his soft curls tickling you and you let out a faint chuckle as you regain your composure. 

You can feel his heartbeat against your bare back and you feel so at home with his strong arms wrapped around you, like you are exactly where you’re supposed to be. It is a little scary actually.      

“What were you gonna say?” You don’t even know why you’re asking, it was probably nothing, just simple sex talk, for some reason you feel like you have to ask. You feel him stiffening a little under you as you ask and a sudden nervous rush goes through you. You don’t know what it is but the atmosphere has very suddenly seemed to change. 

Oh, no, is he going to tell you that he doesn’t want to have sex anymore? that this is going to be the last time? Maybe he is interested in someone and he wants to go back to just being friends, with no added benefits. 

You have known that this arrangement couldn’t last forever, but you had hoped that it wouldn’t end this soon, especially since you have known from the beginning that it would end up hurting you considering the fact that you are deeply and hopelessly in love with him… 

It has always been your own little secret, watching him flirt with every girl he came across while wishing that he someday would feel the same for you. You haven’t even told any of the other guys or any of your other friends about your feelings for him. It had been amazing when you had started to have sex, but it had been made clear from the beginning that it was going to be a friends with benefits relationship and nothing more, you had almost felt more relief than disappointment from this, at least you then was sure that there weren’t any feelings involved, meaning that the only person that could break your heart was yourself and that you didn’t have to lay awake at night wondering if there might be a change that he felt the same as you, because, of course, he doesn't feel the same as you, you have been in love with him for years and he has never tried to make a move on you before that fateful night in his car.       

You take a shaky breath as you wait for his answer, getting ready to act like you are completely okay with his decision about ending things.   

“I… I was.” He begins, sounding nothing like his regular confident self. “I was going to tell you that I don’t think we can continue this.” 

There it is. You feel your stomach drop, and you’re suddenly feeling sick. Nothing about the way the night had started had given you a clue about this happening now. You sit up, covering yourself with his sheets, suddenly feeling way too exposed in front of him even though he was fucking you only a short moment ago. 

“I guess I’ll leave then…” You mutter, feeling that you might begin to cry. You knew that it would be hard to hear but you had not expected it to hurt this much and you don’t want him to see just how much it is affecting you.

“No, wait, that is not… Fuck.” He says, sliding a hand over his face, clearly frustrated. “I’m sorry I’m not better at this.” He sighs, removing his hand from his face before turning so he is fully facing you. “I can’t keep doing this with you, not when I feel what I do about you.”

“What are you saying..?”  

He speaks your name softly, he doesn’t seem to be able to look you directly in the eyes, focusing on a wrinkle in the sheets between you, like the bare look of you are making him nervous, this is so unlike him. “I love you, okay? Like, I’m in love with you, I have been for a long time actually… I don’t expect you to feel the same, but I just can’t keep this going with you any longer, not when I keep wishing it was the real thing and-”  

“Wait...” You interrupt him before he can continue, your head is spinning and you can barely believe what you heard is true. “You are in love with me?”

“Yeah, I am.” He confirms, sounding almost apologetically.

You let out a chuckle, you don’t even know why, you’re just so relieved and happy and absolutely dumbfounded, having a hard time processing that this really is happening.

“I guess it is pretty laughable, huh?” He says, trying to smile but the hurt is clear in his eyes, making you stop immediately.

“No, no, Santi it’s not.” You start but you don’t even know how to express how happy you are with words so instead of trying you yank your body forward crashing your lips onto his. He lets out a surprised gasp against your mouth, but he is soon kissing you back with a sweetness and a firmness that makes your heart flutter. His arms are sliding around you, holding you close and you’re deepening the kiss, pouring all of your emotions into it, feeling tears of happiness starting to form behind your closed eyelids.     

“I love you too.” You whisper against his lips, as the two of you finally break for air.

“Really?” He whispers, cupping your cheek as he looks into your eyes, a dopey smile spreading on his face as you nod at him. 

“Yeah.” As a wide smile of your own spreads on your face.  

“Fuck.” He chuckles. “I never thought you felt the same.” 

“I have loved you for a long time.” You confess and his smile widens even more, making the dimple on his left cheek appear.  

“Have we both been this oblivious for this long?” He says, shaking his head slightly.

“I guess we have.” You giggle. 

You truly can’t believe this. He loves you… Santiago Garcia loves you! 

“I love you so much, Santi.” You grin before leaning in to connect your lips again, melting into another love-filled kiss.

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@cutesyscreenname

[chocolatechubby]

Maybe it was the glass of heavy cream and dozen gingerbread men I ate just before bedtime. Or maybe it was the fact that it was Christmas Eve, and the residue of waiting up for Santa Claus hadn’t diminished in the 23 years since I was six years old. Maybe it was the hard on that wouldn’t go away if I thought about growing fat and round. Whatever it was, I couldn’t sleep. I reluctantly pulled my bloated body from my warm bed to take a piss and a crap in the bathroom. On the way to the john, I passed the Christmas tree in the living room. The shiny packages underneath danced with the reflections of twinkling lights. I’d made quite a haul this year. I was pretty sure the small neatly wrapped package in the front was an Ipod from my mom. And I was pretty sure that the envelope from my ex-partner was a membership to a gym. My gaining sixty pounds had a lot to do with our break-up. It was nice that we were still friends. “Funny…” I thought. “The thing I REALLY want Santa to bring me won’t fit under a tree.”

When I had finished in the bathroom, I took a long look at myself in the mirror. The 160lb gym rat was gone. There in front of me was a 220lb jock-gone-soft. Since I had continued to go to the gym, I was thick and solid. The roundness of my face was beginning to cut away my cheek definition. The beginnings of a double chin made my cock jump. The definition in my arms was beginning to fade: I loved putting on sleeveless shirts and seeing the thick round guns that were once defined biceps and triceps stretching through. My legs were growing huge. The size 38 pants were straining to keep my thighs in. And I had a real belly. Not the beginning gut I was so proud of in college, but a thick waist protruding over my jeans and a noticeable round mound that jutted out from my plump tits and curved forward six inches. It had gotten a number of rubs and stares from my co-workers over the past few weeks. I thought my pecker was going to fall off from all the jerking off I did in the office restrooms after each “Woah! When’s the baby due?” or “You’d better lay off the holiday food Chris!” But it wasn’t enough. I wanted more. I wanted to look like all of those fellas that I admired online. I wanted people to move out of the way when I walked down the street. I wanted to look in the mirror and be awed by my girth. I reached down in my shorts and began massaging my cock. I imagined what it would be like to have to work pass mounds of belly fat just to touch it. I could feel my hard on growing, and my dick was responding to both my touch and my fantasy. It wouldn’t be long now—at least not for the explosion from my balls. The weight gain would take more time.

As I was going for climax, I heard a sound. Not from me but coming from the living room. At first faint, it grew louder—a slow and steady rise and fall. A snore? It sounded like someone snoring. Maybe somehow the air conditioner had turned itself on. I listened a little more intently. No, this was a HUMAN sound. Someone had broken into my apartment! I pulled up my shorts, looked around for a blunt object, grabbed the toilet brush, and headed towards the sound. As I rounded the corner, I was not prepared for what I saw. There in my leather armchair next to the Christmas tree, snoring to high heaven was Santa Claus.

Only it wasn’t Santa Claus. I mean he was dressed in a beautiful red suit—far superior to all those costumed Santas that you see in department stores. This suit looked like it had been tailored for him: luxurious and warm—trimmed in ermine and leather. It fit his big round frame to a “t.” He had to weigh 350, if a pound, and his thick beard was close-cropped, neatly trimmed, and a deep auburn like the wavy hair that curled from under his fur cap. This guy couldn’t have been more than thirty-five years old. And he was gorgeous. During my whole relationship with my ex, Zach, I had never cheated. But I will admit—especially towards the end when he started nagging more about the weight—I had serious fantasies about dudes like the one asleep in my easy chair, but they never included being robbed by them.

Next to him on the floor was a big, empty red velvet sack. I had to admit: this guy had class. I’d read stories in the newspaper about thieves breaking into houses dressed as Santa Claus and taking people’s presents. I never thought it would happen to me. Pictures of the Grinch stuffing Cindy Lou Who’s Christmas tree in his sack crowded my brain. Well this sucker wasn’t getting MY Ipod without a fight!

I tiptoed over to where the hot thief was snoring, and I kicked his engineer boot and stepped back—toilet bowl brush held high. “Hey you!” I shouted. The guy stirred. I gave him my best grimace and said: “What the hell do you think you’re doing in my place?!” He opened one eye and peered up at my brush and me. He grinned (and of course he had a killer smile) and said, “What are you going to do? Tidy Bowl me to death?”

I wasn’t quite ready for such a laid-back attitude. It took me aback for a moment. “No, smart ass…” I answered finally. “… I’m going to call the police and have you hauled off to spend Christmas in jail—that’s what I’m going to do!!!” I bellowed triumphantly. “Oh, and for future reference: Santa has a WHITE beard—not red! You are NO Kris Kringle.”

“Actually, his beard isn’t white. It’s silver. And you’re right…I’m not Kris Kringle. He’s my dad. I’m KARL Kringle—his youngest son.”

Of all the responses in all the scenarios that I could imagine, not one of them included that particular statement. I stood in shock with my mouth open. He fumbled around for a bit and spoke: “This is what I get for breaking the first rule of Christmas Delivery: Don’t Fall Asleep. It’s just that it’s been a long night and seeing as this is my Last Stop and all, I couldn’t help myself.” He yawned and started hauling his big belly out of my chair “Look, don’t set off your loaded brush—I’m just looking for my wallet.” He was even more appealing standing. He was a fireplug: about my height (which made him somewhat short), he reminded me of Sean Astin as Samwise Gamgee in “The Lord of the Rings”: much bigger, but as cute as he could be. He patted himself down, searching around his big gut and barrel chest for a bulge. “Ahh, here it is!” He pulled out a simple leather wallet and flipped it open. “See.” He said.

I slowly inched forward and took the wallet out of his chubby hand. There he was, smiling with rosy cheeks. NORTH POLE DMV: Driver’s Permit was printed in white at the top of a red and green card. “May operate cars, trucks, motorcycles, snow skis and High-Capacity Sleighs” was prominently placed in the lower right hand corner.

“Real cute” I smirked. “So you’re a clever bandit. I’m sure your cell mate will get a real kick out of your sense of humor.”

“Man, some things don’t change, do they?” He smiled. “You’re still a closet believer posing as a skeptic aren’t you? I remember when you were six years old and wanted ‘Dream Date Ken’. You said to yourself, ‘I’ll believe in Santa if he brings me Ken.’ When you didn’t see it under the tree that Christmas morning, you were really sad, but you said, ‘I knew he wasn’t real.’ Boy were you surprised when you found it…”

“Hidden in your stocking!”

“Hidden in my stocking!”

We said it at the exact same time. My mouth was agape. “How did you know that?” I uttered. “Because I asked Dad if I could put it there.” Karl said. “I was twelve. Dad had been training me to take a route of my own. I had been coming with him since you were a baby—watching you grow up. I wanted you to work harder to trust your beliefs.”

I stumbled to my couch and sat down. This was incredible! So it was true: Santa really DID exist. “Yup.” Karl said, as if he’d read my mind. “Only the doubters have got part of the story right: he DOESN’T circle the world and deliver toys in one night. He hasn’t done that in a few hundred years. He has help from his sons.”

“Sons” I gasped, with emphasis on the “s.” “You mean there’s more of you?”

“Oh yeah” said Karl. “It's the family business. There’s Kris Jr., Kevin, Kurt, Klaus, Kyle, Keith, and Kwame.”

“Kwame?” I asked.

“Yeah, a little incident with dad and an African Queen a few years back…we don’t talk about that.” He whispered.

“So we divide up the earth and each take a chunk. Dad spends most of his time these days with the kids that need him most. He took India and New Orleans this year.”

“I see…” I said. “And you got my area.”

“Well, not so much GOT, as CHOSE your area. I told you. I’ve been watching you for many years. I’ve been waiting for that jerk of a boyfriend of yours to exit the picture. I’ve been crushing on you for a while now. I happen to be gay.”

“Oh.” My dick was jumping at regular intervals now. “Are all of you uh…?”

“Gay?” He said. “I doubt it. Nobody’s talking so we don’t really know. I’m pretty sure Kwame is. He keeps picking San Francisco as one of his stops. Listen, do you mind if I make myself comfortable?” he asked. “Uh…no.” I stammered, still trying to make sense of the fact that I had a big, bearded Santa Claus in my living room that was hot for me. “Great” he said and proceeded to undo his belt and buttons. His velvet coat fell to the floor, revealing the magnificent fat physique bulging from his white undershirt. His big, gorgeous arms were covered with a layer of soft red fur, and I could see tendrils of the same curling from under the neckline of his t. He began playing with his nipples as he slowly moved his ball belly towards me. “Listen,” he said again. “…do you mind if I make YOU more comfortable?”

“Uh…no.” was my startled reply.

We stood face to face. The heat between us was more intense than anything I’d ever felt before. He smelled of smoldering fires and apples and cinnamon. He leaned in, and I felt his cock. “So THAT’S what’s meant by Christmas Sausage! “I thought. He pulled me into him and whispered, “I’ve been waiting 29 years for this” and moved his tongue over my lips and into my mouth. He tasted like warm cocoa. His belly met mine and I moaned at the solid thickness of his girth. Our tongues swirled together in a hot dance that left me weak and energized at the same time. I could have stayed like that forever.

Karl ran his thick hands over my nipples, slightly squeezing them between his fingers. He slowly traveled down to my belly and began massaging it with both hands. I was in heaven. “Such a beautiful starter belly. I was so hot for you when you started putting on weight that I had to stop working in the toyshop—couldn’t concentrate. Kept making Barbie dolls with penises!”

“Oh.” I mumbled—trying to get his tongue back in my mouth.

“And now I’m with you” he said, caressing my cheek. “And we’ve got all night. He leaned over and kissed my gut. “I’m going to give you that present that won’t fit under the tree.”

For a moment I was stirred from my reverie. Had he really the power to know what my deepest desires were? I tested him. “Oh yes? “I whispered in his ear. “What might that be.”

“Don’t be coy Chris” he smiled. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. By dawn, you will be fed, fucked, and fat as a house. Are you ready to get started?”

TO BE CONTINUED

[femmefatalevibe]

Femme Fatale Guide: Spring Wardrobe Essentials

Staple Tees & Tanks:

**Purchase in Modal, Pima cotton, linen, silk, or Tencel fabric**

Fitted scoop neck tank

Fitted high-neck tank top

Structured, relaxed fit crewneck tee

Fitted scoop neck/crewneck tee

Halterneck tee/mockneck tee

Contour tank/tee bodysuits

Blouses/Shirting:

Linen button-down (can be long/short-sleeve or a tank variety)

Silk button-down (can be a long/short-sleeve or a tank variety)

Relaxed fit silky tank

Relaxed fit silky cami top

Sweetheart neck tube top

Any other desired silk shell top/t-shirts/camis (for layering)

Sculpt knit top(s)

Self-tie wrap blouse

Halter-style silk blouse

Bottoms:

Black straight-leg jeans

Black bootcut/flared jeans

Black straight/bootcut trousers

Wide-leg trousers (I love a solid black, black pinstripe, and black with lace-up detail selection)

Split hem trousers

Black linen trousers

Stretch jersey pants (straight-leg, bootcut, and/or flared)

Black satin midi skirt

Leather skirt (mini or midi)

Tailored shorts (Tencel ones are great for various climates/weather that drastically in temperature/humidity throughout the day)

Leather shorts

Tailored black linen shorts

Dresses/Jumpsuits:

Slip dress (midi-length for every day; mini for hotter days/nights out)

Linen button-down dress (for work/modest dressing)

Linen tank dress (for layering/hotter days)

Little black dress (shift dress/A-line cuts are great)

Minimal black jumpsuit ("LBJ")

Black linen or silk jumpsuit

Blazer dress/jumpsuit

Long-sleeve playsuit/romper

Tuxedo jumpsuit/playsuit

Jackets/Outerwear:

Well-tailored black blazer

Well-tailored black vest

Leather moto jacket

Black trench coat

Tailored longline sleeveless blazer/vest

Neutral-toned racer jacket

Structured utility jacket

Satin coat/trench/blazer (great over transitional nighttime looks)

Footwear:

Black loafers

Square-toe/pointed-toe flats

Slingback/mary-jane flats/casual kitten heels

Short black lace-up boots

Sleek low to mid-calf black square/pointed-toe boot

Western-inspired boot

Minimalist white sneakers

Black pointed-toe pumps

Sleek mules/cut-out flats

Slingblack pointed-toe wedges

Rain boots

Accessories:

White/black ankle & crew socks

High-waisted shapewear shorts

Chunky/small chain necklaces & bracelets

Simple pendant necklace(s)

Pearl necklace

Simple diamond studs

Crystal drop earrings

Minimalist bangles

Stackable rings

A sleek, minimalist black tote (can fit a laptop for work/travel)

Black shoulder bag

Small black bag (top handle, crossbody, etc.)

Statement bag/evening bag

Silk/decorative scarf

Sleek neutral sunglasses that suit your face shape

Lingerie/Loungewear:

Seamless bra/underwear

Lace bra/underwear

Matching pullover cotton sweatshirt/sweatpants

Tencel, Modal, or cotton top/lounge pants set

Luxurious pajama set (Long sleeve/pants + short-sleeve/tank + shorts, depending on the climate – silk, Tencel, cashmere, etc.)

A to-die-for piece of lingerie like a lace slip/silk teddy

Silk or cozy robe

Open-back slippers

[lukiechino]

A Dream Within A Dream

| Spencer Reid x Reader |

“O God! Can I not grasp

Them with a tighter clasp?

O God! can I not save,

One from the pitiless wave?”

— “A Dream Within A Dream”, Edgar Allen Poe

Y/n laid awake in bed, staring at the slip of paper in her hand. She tried to let her roommate’s earth-shaking snoring lure her into a merciful sleep, but with the paper and the thought of the delightful stranger she had met that night fresh in her mind, it was impossible.

Her mind overflowed with thoughts of the date she asked him on and what she would wear. But even more so, the thought that she held the coupon that he had quickly scribbled his number onto in her hand filled her mind with thoughts of late night talks and good morning calls that she always dreamt of having.

Y/n looked at the cardigan that was draped over the chair in front of her desk, remembering the moment he gave it too her. They were standing at the door of his apartment building, and Y/n awkwardly held the coupon he gave to her. She a short, sleeveless, sequence dress that her friend lent her had left her wrapping her arms around her for warmth. She awkwardly waved at him, but he hesitated at the entrance of the building. He quickly tugged off his cardigan and awkwardly slipped it over Y/n’s shoulder.

Neither of them knew what to say or do next, but Y/n managed to ask him out to coffee. Then, just before he entered his building, Y/n remembered neither of them had introduced themselves, even though they talked at the bar for what felt like an hour.

“Dr. Spencer Reid,” Y/n whispered, staring at the paper. She grabbed her phone off her nightstand, turning it on. She quickly made the number into a new contact and stuffed the coupon into her nightstand’s drawer.

In a decision fueled by the confidence from lack of sleep, Y/n clicked call. She shot up as her phone rang loudly, and she hurried to turn it down.

Y/n hurried out of her and her roommates shared room, and into the living room. She placed the phone against her ear, listening as her phone rang. There was the click of the other end picking up, and Y/n broke out into a smile as she heard Spencer’s hesitant voice.

“Y/n?” He said. Then she realized that she just called this guy she barely knew at midnight, for no reason.

“Yeah, sorry, I don’t know why I called,” she rambled out quickly, pacing the length of her dining room table. “I…sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” Y/n said, prepared to hang up.

“It’s alright, I couldn’t sleep anyway,” he said, making Y/n’s finger pause on the hang-up button. She sat on the couch staring up at the ceiling as she held the phone to her ear. “Remember what we were talking about at the bar?” He asked. Of course she remembered, how could she forget?

The night turned sour for Y/n after her group of friends ditched her at a bar, with plans to go to a party nearby. But as she settled in at the bar, she found the guy next to her was reading a compilation of Edgar Allen Poe writings. Y/n excitedly struck up a conversation, which continued until a group of rowdy college kids infiltrated the bar.

“I finished reading Annabelle Lee,” he said.

“Ooo, how was it?” Y/n asked. It was one of her favorites—and it was actually the first poem of Poe’s she ever read.

“Still like the Raven more,” he said with a chuckle, and Y/n groaned dramatically.

“C’mon, the longing, the romance, the despair…” Y/n sighed. “Y’know what, the angels did not send a cold gust of wind to chill and kill Annabelle Lee for you to compare them to a talking Raven,” she said, getting Spencer to chuckle on the other end. “How about A Dream within a Dream, read that one yet?”

“I did, and it might actually be my favorite.”

“Phew, I don’t think I could handle any more disrespect to far superior stories,” Y/n said with a grin. Y/n closed her eyes to take in a breath. “The ending, it’s too beautifully written. The despair in every word reminds me of the empty feeling I get when I finish some eye-opening movie.” The doorbell rang as she finished talking. Y/n stared at the door upside down, praying it wasn’t family. But just in case she ended the call with, “Let me call you right back.”

The next morning, Gabby, Y/n’s roommate, woke up to an empty house. She looked around for Y/n, but found no signs she had been there at all since the night before. Nothing, except, for a crumbled up coupon with a phone number, and thin red cardigan that was thrown over her chair.

[knightwithakay]

I feel like you're the best person to ask this, there's a ren faire close to me in 2 weeks and I have no costume. Any low effort dress up ideas that would help me blend in? I really dont wanna just show up in jeans or shorts

cracks knuckles

low effort ren faire costumes! my general tips: the renaissance (and renfairs in particular) is more colorful than you think, and layers and accessories can do a lot to transform a very simple outfit.

pants: think natural fibers where you can, but as a rule we're going to stay away from denim or modern patterns. jogger-style sweatpants can be great, and leggings are basically period! a fun way to change the silhouette of baggier pants is to tuck them into the tops of boots, or if you don't have boots, wrapping some cloth around your calves for a similar effect.

shirts: we mainly want to try and stay away from button-downs here; sleeveless t-shirts can mimic the cut of a tunic, especially layered over something else, and of course the peasant-style shirts that go in and out of fashion all the time are great to repurpose here. wide, baggy sleeves cuffed at the wrists are more historical, but any kind of large sleeve reads in a renfaire context (which is often more fantasy than anything!)

accessories: depending on your weather situation, a cape/cloak is a super easy upgrade and can often be made just by draping a blanket or some creative pinning. you can also layer with a vest, or chop off the top chunk of a hooded sweatshirt to make a hooded mantle. a straw hat, a flower crown, or even a pirate hat if you've got one in the closet are all good hat options! belts are great, both for making a costume more authentic and for holding more accessories; find a long leather belt, google "how to tie a ring belt" and you can use that method even on a standard modern belt. things to hang from your belt: a mug, a small bag for your phone and wallet, a pocket watch, some ribbon, some tiny bottles. this is the part to have fun with for sure!

you mentioned jeans/shorts specifically, so I won't dive into dress specifics, but many of the same rules apply--layering skirts over an existing dress creates a fun colorful silhouette, and a belt gives you pockets even when you don't have pants.

suffice to say I can go on for a while, but I hope this helps! :) renfaires are so much fun, and also I hope that you know it's very much ok to not have a crazy elaborate costume-- as long as you seem willing and engaged with the stuff going on, cast members will happily engage, and some of the folks at faire I remember most fondly showed up in jeans and jerseys.

[eolewyn1010]

Downton Abbey Fashion 18 - post-war evening dresses

I feel like all the dresses I personally find beautiful are the ones that are not allowed to come back for another season. Unfortunately, this applies to a large part of Cora’s early wardrobe.

Interestingly, while I’m pretty sure she wears this champagne evening gown at least twice, I think she never wears it without the dark brown velvet robe. At least I don’t remember having seen the sleeves of the dress. The colors are a nice enough match, but nothing on either piece points to them having been made as a set. The dress is embroidered in crystal or glass beads, the coat apparently in pearls. But anyway, this dress is lovely!

More velvet, this time in plum over a pink silk base layer. Plus a little white lace trim. So far, so nice, although I don’t know why they made the sleeves of yet another fabric instead of working out something similar to the deep cowl collar. But fine, the beige works as a nice backdrop to a little flower embroidery.

Cora can’t keep off the velvet this season – time for some black. It’s fashionable black, not mourning black, so Cora can afford to pretty it up with netting on sleeves and shoulders, tassels on the sleeve hems, a big brooch in the front, and some gorgeous lace gloves that I desire with a vengeance. Despite this being a quite heavily decorated dress, I think the neckline would invite a discreet little necklace. Ah well.

*sigh* This red silk work is quite an iconic look, and one that stays into season 3. I’m gonna level with you: I think it outstays its welcome. I don’t like this one. Oh, it’s a fine dress in theory; the embroidery is lovely, the red shades coordinate well with the golden shoulder straps, I’m a fan of the fluttery sleeves. But the cut of this bodice isn’t doing Cora’s figure any favors. Is there any reason to make her waist look so disproportionately short without really hitting the Edwardian empire waistline?

Much better. This goes a lot more into 1920s styles with the drapey chiffon top, and I think the hip overlay (sash?) looks very pretty. It’s the only heavily embroidered piece, which seems unusual for the muted coloring of the dress, but it merges very nicely into the wide sleeve cutouts with the jewel trim.

Yay, black dresses with embroidery are keepers for season 3. Okay, this is not the worst of them; the gold thread with beads makes for a pretty cute look, but why does Cora wear a sleeveless dress for Christmas? Or is this a shirt? The skirt is greyer, so it might be separate.

--------------

There’s something with this season and brown dresses. It doesn’t always work in the wearer’s favor. I mean, I like this pleated wrap style, but the head scarf really washes out Rosamund’s beautiful ginger hair and the dress doesn’t give any other color pop either.

Hey, look, it’s a black dress with golden beading. You know what this means: It’s spectacular enough to stay into season 3! I’m getting very tired of this, but I can’t just bitch. The chiffon sleeves are cute, and there’s this style of little grape bundle earrings that pops up here and there across the show.

A black dress I find remotely interesting? Can only be here for one season. See, this one pulls off the empire waist Cora’s red silk dress didn’t want to commit to. And the top is basically just one big stretch of gold brocade (plus or minus some black chiffon for the sleeves). Damaged brocade, by the look of that second image. Is this an original? Is that why they couldn’t keep it around?

One of the subtler favorites of mine: The use of these black scallops is just delicious, how they open to diamond shapes on the arms (over barely visible chiffon that has exactly the color of Rosamund’s skin) and are held together with actual diamonds. I love it, it’s wonderful despite not having made a spectacle out of it.

These shots are not great, but this is rather a lovely dress, albeit one that is in Edwardian style and is thus beginning to look out of fashion. The skirt is some silverish blue velvet that pairs nicely with the paler-colored top, all crepe-work wrapped in a V over a simple light blue base layer. Also, behold the trim. It sparkles!