#the pièce de résistance if you will | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wyvernest · 1 year ago

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bright red lust

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!trophy wife! reader

warnings: smut, car limo sex, misogynistic undertones (reader feels good about being a trophy wife), pda, teasing, dryhumping, unprotected sex, creampie, cowgirl

summary: you attend a gala with miguel and tease him until he finally gets you to himself in his limo

translation: "que rico" = 'how nice'

Any woman’s dream is to be his wife. For his rank, his money, his reputation, his everything. And it feels so good to know that he's so desired.

Because you’re at his side, not them. It’s you whom he spends his money on. It’s you whom he buys all the exquisite dresses and gowns for, all the best things you could ever want or need. It’s you whom he makes love to after a tiring day. Or after you wake up. Or anytime, for that matter.

You’re irreplaceable, but at the same time at his disposal. You don’t see it as a price paid but rather as a bonus. You’ve never been pampered so good before, loved so good, fucked so good.

So that’s why, whenever he has a new gala or special event to attend, you let him pick your dress out of all the various selections you spend so much time on finding.

“Too long.” he dismisses, vision darting from your mauve-satin covered legs to your face. He’s manspreading on the king size bed of your presidential hotel room, hair dishevelled and half lidded eyes sleepy, relaxed.

“You’re so picky today. I only got a few more!” You giggle with a faux offended expression. Behind the façade of worry that he won’t be satisfied with any of the looks, you secretly love these little fashion runaway sessions, feeling like his own personal top model, trying out different outfits for him. If you weren’t in a hurry, you wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to sit on his lap and accidentally grind your ass on his crotch when you got up as part of the little show.

“Mm.” He hums, seemingly unaffected by your playful frustration. He knows you love it when he acts so pretentious and superior, but he loves you, and he loves the enthusiasm with which you show him everything. “Next, bebita. This one’s sombre.”

After a few minutes and struggles, you manage to pull on the pièce de résistance; a bright, blood-red skin tight satin dress. Miguel’s eyes widen at the sight of you, brows raised in silent approval and admiration. The length isn’t a problem this time, your beautiful legs and thighs peeking out with every step through the long slit on the right. The fabric is wrapped so deliciously around your breasts, slightly pushing them up together, plump and tantalising.

"Maybe this one's a bit too much? I-"

"Do a 360." His eyes lit up, attentive and pleased. You twirl, making sure to slightly stick your ass out, checking yourself out in a full body mirror nearby.

"Me gusta." He gets up from the bed, gripping your waist to place a needy kiss on your cheek, before placing his lips on your own. You take his face in your hands, melting into his embrace. “This is the one.” His deep, low whisper sends shivers up your spine, your brain short circuiting. Who are you to say no to him? To those pretty, dark brown, red-tinted eyes?

"I'm gonna go get ready now. Thank you, papi." You turn around, yelping as he doesn't miss the opportunity to smack your ass as you do, smirking to himself.

When you finally arrive at the gala, you get out of your limo and start flaunting your exquisite dress, proud and flashing. You feel Miguel instantly cling to you, a secure, strong hand on your waist, its touch fervent and possessive.

He doesn’t fail to notice all the other spiders gawk at you, turning their heads too sharply just to catch a glimpse of his beautiful wife. All the lingering looks, the whispered words of admiration, all for you. The hand on the dip of your waist tenses, both in immeasurable pride and a hint of stinging jealousy. But it felt amazing.

All the comments, the remarks.

“Can’t believe he pulled such a pretty thing.”

“Imagine coming home at the end of the day to her.”

“Maybe being the leader of Spider-Society has its perks.”

They thought he wouldn’t ever hear them, but his enhanced senses have little to no limits. He feels his pants slightly tighten at the thought that so many other men want you. And yet, it’s his cock that you beg for, late at night.

And you’re aware of this weakness of his. You know that showing everyone that you’re his gets him hard in no time. And as the brat you are, you can’t help it. Especially not when all eyes are on you two. Not when the paparazzi’s come in.

You run a cursory hand from his chest to his abdomen, arching your back, pretty figure on display for the pictures. Bolder. Your hand finds his cheek, his jaw, your eyes never leaving him. You enjoy feeling like an accessory, something that accentuates him, his masculinity. Something that belongs to him.

No other man has ever made you feel this way.

You gesture to him to lean down, your heels still not enough for you to be able to reach his face without his aid. He does, and you place a tantalising peck on his cheek, light enough so that your bright lipstick doesn’t transfer.

Feeling him stiffen, unsure of your teasing, you decide to risk it and lean your face down to the crook of his neck.

Hundreds of photographs flash as you kiss his neck, your soft lips lingering just a second too late, only for a red print to remain plastered on his skin, for everyone to see.

He turns to you with an expression worth a thousand words. You know that face all too well.

As soon as you get back in the limo following the after-party, you wave good-bye to all your acquaintances and friends. The driver takes a turn and exits the flash-lit area.

Turning to look at Miguel, any conversation or small talk on the event you just attended gets smushed into a heated kiss you both longed for, his hands on your hips, pulling you into him on the back seat, your arms thrown over his shoulders.

When he grabs your thigh, you waste no time in lifting your leg over his waist, straddling him without breaking away from the kiss.

His warm hands slide underneath the red satin, grabbing at the globes of your ass greedily. You start grinding on him, your damp panties rubbing onto his erection in his pants.

Your breasts nearly pop out of your dress during the hazy make out session, and he parts from your lips to start kissing down your neck, stealing a glance down at them. Throwing your head back, your body turns into putty in his strong arms. He licks and kisses at the delicate skin of the tops of your tits, slowly and reflexively grinding up into your heat.

You moan his name, your breathing getting heavy.

He knows that having you in risky places only makes you even wetter for him, and he can't get enough.

"Ah! Oh- Miguel!" You whimper as a heavy hand smacks your ass, making you jerk forward into him, your tender body smushed against him so perfectly.

"Here? Are you sur-"

"Here, yes." Hot, shallow breaths fan your neck as he speaks in between kisses and gentle bites. "Can't wait any longer."

Your hands fumble with his belt and he quickly rips your panties at the seam, making a hole over your slit. Panting and rushing, you pull his hard, meaty cock out and align it with your dripping cunt. You feel him slip into you, nice and slow, filling you up with the familiar euphoria you have craved so ardently for the whole night.

He groans as he enters you, wet, warm and tight. Just when you were getting adjusted to his size, the limo goes over a speed bump and his cock thrusts up into you with the turbulence, its bulbous tip kissing your cervix.

You feel him deep in your guts, and as you begin riding him, he starts to buck his hips up into you, making you see stars.

"Que rico", he pants out, whispered, "having a pretty thing like you all over me." He

Keeping the thrusts quick and shallow, so as not to make your shenanigans too obvious, you bounce yourself on his cock; at first for his pleasure alone. Seeing him drowned in ecstasy will eventually being you your own pleasure as well.

All until he brings a hand to your swollen clit, rubbing furiously, throwing you over the edge in mere seconds. You come all over his dick, eyes rolling back, his name falling off you tongue in a strangled moan, sweet music to his ears.

He feels your pussy pulsate oh so deliciously around his cock, and it doesn't take him much longer to also release his load in your velvet walls, painting your insides white, claiming you as his.

As soon as he comes down, catching his breath, he smothers you with another fierce kiss, groaning into your mouth as you stir with his still sensitive cock inside you.

"We should do this again sometime, Mr. O'Hara." You tease, your lips straying away to nibble at his pulse point.

"Oh, we will, bebita."

divider by @cafekitsune as always

a/n: finally wrote this 7 mesozoic eras after it was requested sorry man

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bunny584 · 7 months ago

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OBSESSED: SHOKO feat THE BOYS (FINALE)

A/N: Well, well, well. Oh how the tables have turned, dear reader. It’s not so easy — juggling two special grades and their personal physician…is it?

S/N: This is it. The pièce de résistance. I was…this is…NO ONE LOOK AT ME AFTER YOU READ THIS. No idea the word count. Long af, though.

C/W:….the trio is their own content warning lol. Mature. 18+, MDNI.

Part I, Part II.

Is this…a dream?

This must be what it feels like to hear Domain Expansion, Infinite Void.

White static coats Shoko’s brain. She’s breathing underwater. Thinking in molasses.

It’s a miracle her legs are working — they’re currently trailing behind you and the boys, back to her apartment.

Her eyes are working, too — they’re attached to the dress rippling and bouncing off your ass. Your hips are a hypnotic pendulum. Swinging back and forth.

Back and forth.

The tailwind from your strut is a bad actor.

Every so often teasing your cotton panties that won the lottery. Kissing up against your pretty petals. Riding along the plump curve of your mounds. Accentuating the intoxicating swell of your hips.

It’s paralyzing.

You are paralyzing.

Satoru’s hand is curled around the back of your neck. His azure glow is so pristine, so bright it refracts off your gorgeous cheekbones. Dampening his Limitless and intensifying his Six Eyes.

Because the first to taste a meal is usually one’s eyes…right?

Shoko can nearly hear the depravity ringing between Satoru’s ears.

Then there’s Suguru.

An arm is draped around your waist, capturing and releasing the hem of your dress every few seconds. Mindless movements. His sniper-like gaze focused on the apartment door at the end of the hall.

Cool. Calm. Collected.

One would think, if you don’t know Suguru well enough.

His normally, perfectly repressed cursed energy surrounds him. Flickering into the air like campfire embers just waiting for the next gust of wind to erupt. Amethyst and graphite swarm around her best friend — the only indicator of his disintegrating self-control.

20 steps left until she is expected to produce door keys. The only thing standing between everyone and you.

This is it.

This is the moment. The one chance you get at ‘doing it right this time.’

15 steps.

There are no more wishes granted. No more genies stuffed into bottles, or whatever. This is it.

10 steps.

Get your shit together, Ieiri.

Do not squander this on the sidelines.

Shoko wires around the three of you. Stepping ahead to slot the frivolous piece of aluminum standing between her and her wet dream.

The apartment door flies open. Satoru’s hand moves on autopilot — deepening his grip around your neck.

His conscious brain recedes. Triple distilled, unadulterated need moves in like a tropical storm.

Silky strands of your hair plaited in his fingers.

Wide, warm eyes locked into his.

Tiny slit in those pouty, siren lips of yours.

He will dismantle you. Piece by fucking piece.

Until you’re a babbling, sobbing brook beneath his fingers. Apologizing for being such a cocktease.

“Satoru…?”

There’s a change in your voice.

Fear? Nerves?

Prey finally realizing who is next on the menu?

Satoru is staring. Fully aware of how disarming his eyes can be. Born with godlike vision and somehow the only thing he can see in the room is you.

His greed is a threat to National Security. DEFCON Level 1.

His mouth ghosts yours. Barely registering Suguru encasing you from behind. Trailing his palms along your thighs.

“Safe word, princess.” Satoru maps every ridge, every teeth indent on that gorgeous bottom lip.

“For when you need to tap out.” Suguru augments Satoru’s command. Gentle nip at the tip of your ear and you moan. Bitten back and clipped.

“Such pretty sounds,” Shoko’s voice is distant. Breathy. Coated in Cabernet.

“I..don’t—”

Satoru slices your protest in half. Rolling your bottom lip under his teeth. Biting and licking his way across your pout. At the same time Suguru drops his mouth to your pulse point.

“Don’t what, sweetheart?” Suguru murmurs into your neck. A filthy fucking whine escapes your lips and Satoru’s fingers go to your nipple.

Hard. Pert and neglected. Desperate for attention.

Just like you.

The way you’re panting into Satoru’s mouth. Listless and loose, bending into Suguru’s presence behind you.

“He gave you an order, baby.” Suguru’s smile is so tender. Almost torturous against your oversensitive skin.

“Don’t…ah..don’t need a safe word.”

A weak declaration against Satoru’s kiss. Earning yourself a sharp twist of your sensitive buds. And gifting him a kitten squeal that makes his cock twitch.

“Ohhhh Suguru, Shoko. We have a brat on our hands.” He muses, hovering his lips over yours. Satoru pets the steel rod between his legs. Already dewy with his arousal.

You are so beautiful, trying to resist their coordinated touch. The sound of Suguru’s large hand palming your ass reverberates throughout the room.

“I’ll teach her some manners.”

Suguru’s voice trails down your spine. Slow and sickly sweet. Like maple sap dripping down tree bark mid spring. He caresses the hot sting from his spanking.

“I—I have manners.” Voice as small as your frame engulfed between the 6’3 counterparts.

“I won’t ask again, princess.” Satoru tilts your chin up to meet his gaze. And Suguru continues sucking kisses into your neck, marking his territory.

“Uh..mmm..god, S—“ Your eyes flutter closed. An earnest attempt to stay present. And not settle into the fuzzy, warm submission they are baiting you into.

“Safe word, now.”

“B—um. Blue? Blue.” Your resolve is about as rigid as cotton.

“Blue?”

“Well that’s not fair.”

Shoko and Suguru’s incredulous reactions intertwine with Satoru��s smug chuckle. A dusty rose high on your cheeks.

You know why you chose Blue. Everyone else does, too.

“Blue, huh?” Satoru presses a soft kiss on your lips.

“To match me? Noted, baby.”

Shoko melts into her couch. Her heartbeat rattles around her skull. With short, ineffective breaths that taste like full bodied red wine. Wet heat surges around her lace thong.

The way you’re writhing between her best friends’ hands is sinful.

Gazing up at Satoru like he is Vincent Van Gogh and the Starry Night above you is the product of his paintbrush.

Incoherent as if Suguru’s fingers put the Sun to bed. Whimpering his name like a prayer.

Adorable, girl.

God isn’t going to save you here.

The pads of Shoko’s cool fingers nearly sizzle against her puffy pleasure point. Slick coating her with just one, two, three long stripes against her sticky folds.

“God...fuck..bring her to me.” The grit in Shoko’s tone scrapes along her voice box. Matching the aggressive pace of her fingers against her needy cunt.

The boys lock gazes with their third. Cavalier smile tugging against Satoru’s lips. Suguru’s brow touches his hairline.

Ladies, first.

“You heard her.” Satoru snakes your arms around his neck and hoists you around his waist in one fluid motion.

“S—sato—“ He bullies his tongue back into your mouth. No more protesting, gorgeous.

Slow steps towards Shoko, so he can drink from your well. A sweet, delectable spell dripping from your lips. And if Satoru doesn’t wake up tomorrow morning after eating your forbidden fruit, then so be it.

Suguru lets himself watch you from a short distance.

His hand can’t stop rubbing his cock. Shamelessly tugging his heavy rod. Burning your little expressions into his mind’s safe. The way your eyebrows come together at the center whenever Satoru bites your bottom lip. Your desperate grabs for air against his relentless kiss.

“Hi, pretty.” Shoko drawls the moment Satoru settles you down on her lap. Her thigh digs into your soaked, gummy core. Glazing her skin with your drool.

“Hi, Sho.” Still panting from Satoru’s embrace. So fragile. A harsh breeze could shatter you to stardust. And Shoko pulsates around nothing.

One hand is firm on your hip. The other tracing mindless shapes on your chest. Leaving a poetic cascade of goosebumps in her wake.

Reflexively, you go to caress Shoko’s shoulders only to be caught by Satoru’s enormous grip. Whipping both of your wrists behind your back. While his other hand toys with the erection straining against his pants.

“She didn’t give you permission to touch, did she princess?” He drops his tone into the shell of your ear.

“Oh, I—“

“Manners, gorgeous.” A gentle reminder in between smearing kisses along your neck. Shoko hooks her index finger along your neckline. One tug and your mouth-watering tits come into full view.

“Fucking, hell.”

“God, baby.”

“Perfect…fucking perfect.”

Satoru, Suguru and Shoko’s praises crash into one another. God took his time with you. Sculpting a fucking masterpiece.

To be praised.

To be worshipped.

To be taken.

Used.

Filled.

“Shoko. I want to hear her.”

Suguru’s command is guttural. Fist snug around the base of his cock. Shameless about the tears of precum falling down his shaft.

Shoko’s fingers work their way down to your pulsing clit. You preen into her touch. Pretty, tiny gasps against her cheek.

“Let it out, baby.” Shoko coos into your ear. Thumbing little circles around your clit.

You bury your face into her neck. Delicious ache swelling between your legs. Grinding along her slender thigh. Honey seeping around your clothed cunt.

“S—sho, mmnngh..fuck..” Desperation fans Shoko’s neck. Bucking your hips with your hands restrained.

“There she is.”

Suguru’s fist slams to his hilt. Now close enough to cup your perky mound. Rippling and bouncing with every jolt. Feathering his finger over your pebbled bud.

The sudden touch and velvet voice above you drags your gaze upward.

And Suguru nearly cums in his hand right then and there.

Misty eyes, drool covered lips. Breathy pants. Angelic features rewritten by lust.

“Suguru?”

“Such a good girl. Keep fucking her thigh like that, baby.”

Throaty praise in return. Suguru rips his hand away from his angry length. Staving off his finish.

Not yet.

They’re not remotely close to being done with you yet.

“She’s so responsive.” Satoru chimes in. Releasing his grip on your wrists.

Your hands fly to Shoko’s face. Melding your mouth with hers. Leaking precious sounds, from your lips and your sopping wet core. His hand kneads your neglected breast, pinching your nipple every so often.

Satoru and Suguru palming at your tits. Shoko fucking your mouth with her tongue. You humping Shoko’s leg like a dog in heat.

It’s too much.

Wave after wave of pleasure crashes into your groin. You nestle into the crook of her neck. Grasping at her thick, brunette locks.

“S-sho, I’m close, I’m—mmgh..”

“It’s okay pretty,” Shoko husks. Her thumb at a perfect rhythm and pressure.

“You can cum, baby.” Suguru rasps, tugging at your nipple at the same time Satoru smacks the supple flesh he was petting.

“Oh fuck oh fuck—“

The delicious sting from their touches sends you over the edge. And the wire seated deep in your stomach snaps. Hips stuttering to an abrupt stop.

The room stills. Satoru, Suguru and Shoko studying your micro movements through your peak. So quiet that the walls have to lean in to hear you and your lovers breathing.

Six eyes laser into your body. Everyone’s appetite for you simultaneously tripling.

Satoru swipes the back of his hand across his mouth. Subconsciously aware of the pool of saliva forming. His manhood mirroring the trail of drool running down his mouth.

He’s always been a fan of dessert.

“I need to taste you.”

“And I need a front row seat.” Shoko nibbles at your cheek.

Satoru lifts and spins you around on Shoko’s lap in a matter of seconds. You, still gummy and compliant from your orgasm spread your legs weakly over Shoko. Earning you a chorus of praise from your lust-drunk lovers.

He drops to his knees. His blushing, weeping tip in hand. Pushing your sodden panties to the side. While Shoko cradles your thigh in her hand, holding you open for her best friend.

Your rose blooms in front of him. Dewy with your slick. Candied scent holding all of Satoru’s senses hostage.

“Look at how pretty, she is.” He breezes against your swollen pearl. Your petals quiver, and his dick leaks.

“S—Satoru..please.”

Satoru’s head is spinning. Entirely drunk off of the sight of you like this. Choking back his own pathetic groans.

His tongue licks a long stripe up your ripe folds. And your taste pollenates his mind for an eternity. An addict with his chosen vice.

Your hands magnet to his snowy halo. The melody you sing from his kisses and licks could sink any ship. Echoing in Satoru’s and Shoko’s groin.

Shoko is in a complete haze. Molesting herself numb at the way you undulate against Satoru’s eager tongue. Pitiful little mewls that are worthy of a platinum record.

“Feeling good, gorgeous?” Shoko eggs you on. Quickly sinking into her own threatened orgasm.

“Y—yes..mmgh so..god..” Paper thin squeals from your lips.

Crystals line your eyes in response to Satoru’s tongue fucking in and out of your pussy. Suckling your clit. Figures of 8, and 8 and 8 again until your mind is mush.

Except Suguru refuses to let you get lost at Satoru’s sea. He grips a handful of your hair, whipping your head in his direction.

Both you and Shoko tilt up to see Suguru’s driveling manhood at your eye level. Veiny, heavy. So clearly abused by his hand. Volcanic eruption in his hooded gaze.

“Hands on my cock, baby.”

Barely above a whisper, but somehow your body recognizes his authority.

And you seem genuinely shocked by your visceral obedience. Immediate acquiescence to Surguru’s will.

An approving grin teases Suguru’s lips. Your hands are comically small wrapped around his length.

God, he could split you in half.

Heavy eyelids from Satoru’s agonizing touch, you’re mystical. Gazing into Suguru’s eyes like his soul is nothing but an appetizer. Yours to swallow, digest, play with.

“Ask nicely.” Suguru grunts, as your eyes rake over his leaky cockhead. Longing for a taste.

Satoru and Shoko come to a hush. Her fingers slow. Satoru forces himself off of your folds. Somehow knowing the next words to roll off your tongue will shift their brain chemistry, permanently.

Palatial lashes fan your utterly fucked-out gaze. Swollen lips millimeters away from Suguru’s blunt tip.

“May I suck your cock, please?”

Filthy-nasty-dirty-fucking-vulgar noises fill the room, while you swirl Suguru’s cum covered head around your tongue.

“Fuck. Your lips baby.” He hisses, his hips piston into your pretty, accepting mouth.

“So messy, princess.” Satoru murmurs into your swollen cunt, slipping his fingers past your tight ringlet.

Beautiful gurgles around Suguru’s shaft. Crystalline streams of spit glazing your puffy tits.

You buck into Satoru at a similar, haphazard pace that he strokes his thick rod. Shoko sinks her teeth into your shoulder.

“G-gonna c..gonna—“ high pitched, broken warnings spill from your lips. Just as a blinding wave of electricity surges down Shoko’s legs — curling her pedicure inward.

“Come on, pretty girl. Cum for me.”

Suguru’s decadent baritone sends both you and Shoko over the hot edge. A cacophony of huffs and whines, coating the walls in your shared ecstasy. Spraying your essence all over Satoru’s face.

He’s slow to stand. Savoring remnants of your peak. He and Suguru exchange sordid glances. Sharing the same thought.

Pretty little doll.

Loose limbed and spent in Shoko’s lap. Hair mused. So deeply entrenched into sub space you’ll need to sleep it off of to come to your senses.

A work of art, you are.

But not quite broken, yet.

“It’s our turn now, little one.” Deep and measured. Thick with want. Suguru lifts you by your arms off of Shoko’s lap.

His back lays flush against the couch. You straddle his muscular lap. Satoru stands directly behind you.

Suguru’s manhood is rigid. You’d have to impale yourself on him to get any closer. Similarly, Satoru’s length makes itself very present along the curve of your spine.

“Look at me.” Satoru’s throaty demand comes from above your head.

Obedience is the only language you can currently speak, so you tilt back. Soaking in the celestial boy behind you. Closer to God than Man, from this vantage point.

“You want to taste yourself, baby?”

A rhetorical question from Satoru, but you still bobble your head in an eager yes.

“Such a desperate little puppy, aren’t you?” Suguru mocks you, taking one of your puffy nipples into his mouth.

“She is.”

Satoru affirms in between spearing your mouth with his warm muscle. Kissing the breath directly from your lungs until you’re air hungry and clawing at his neck. Leaving red streaks on his pale skin.

Shoko has since poured herself another glass of red wine. Settling herself on the long arm of her couch.

‘Far enough to drown into her own spiral. Close enough to register everything they do to you in the the most permanent part of her mind.’

Dèjá Vu.

But this lifetime? This reiteration of events? It’s fucking sublime.

Shoko’s lips curl into a cheshire smile against the rim of her glass. Hedonistic on every single level known to man and she wouldn’t have it any another way.

Her eyes flicker down to where Suguru’s hands are eclipsing your hips. And Satoru’s hands are cradled into the small of your waist. Hovering you over Suguru’s cock. The weapon of mass destruction that it is.

“Suguru…Suguru it won’t…” Beautiful little panic ascending in pitch.

“It won’t, what baby?” He teases. Eyes fixed on you like the apex predator he is.

Crimson erupts from the tip of your nose to the tips of your ears. Fluttering away from his quicksand gaze.

“What’s the matter, pretty? Don’t tell me you think you can’t handle—“

“I can handle it—I can…handle it.” You cut Satoru’s taunt down, convincing absolutely no one in the room— including yourself.

But the shred of pride you have left comes forward. Bracing your hands on Suguru’s flexed shoulders. Digging little crescent moons into his olive skin.

He can barely bite back the groan in his throat when your wet heat drags along his cockhead.

Twitching around your opening.

Feigning for entry.

“Go ahead, little one.”

“You can do it, baby.”

“Oh FUCK..GOD.” Your volume is nothing in comparison to the fire incinerating your plush walls. Stretching your womanhood in a way that’s ungodly.

Suguru is blinding.

Flashing lights. Black spots in the visual field. Floaters everywhere kind of blinding. The prior encouragement from your lovers did nothing to soften his blow.

Knowing this would be the result of you trying to work his inhuman length inside yourself, Suguru buries himself in one side of your neck. Satoru mirrors his action on the other side.

Gentle adoration. Tender kisses. Light caresses to dull the pain.

“Such a good girl.”

“I knew you could take it, princess.”

“You’re doing so well for me, pretty girl.”

Suguru rocks his hips in a slow, dreamy pace. Back and forth. Encouraging your body to reset around him. And the pressure. The delicious fucking fullness from his cock is mind numbing.

“R—ready.”

Barely loud enough to register. But Suguru could hear your red blood cells colliding with one another in your veins if you keep him next to you long enough.

“Eyes on me when I’m inside you, sweetheart.”

“Yes sir.”

The smile on his lips is no where near as tantalizing as the smile in his crushed velvet eyes.

And for a moment that is going to be on cinematic repeat in everyone’s mind — Suguru thrusts into you like a man trying to repopulate earth. Never once letting you break his eye-contact.

Melodic sounds of bodies smacking together ring throughout the room. Beautiful ripples of flesh, like soft waves during low tide. Your wet sex colliding with his. Him locking you into place because nothing else exists at this moment.

Both Satoru and Shoko’s jaws are slack. Satoru can’t even bring himself to stroke his length thrashing wildly in his hands.

This is hypnotizing.

A motion picture worthy of an Oscar.

You can feel Suguru recreating the shape of your soul. With each thrust. Deliberate. Deep. Ensuring that he will be a part of you, permanently.

“God, ngh Su—fuck..purple..” unintelligible words, incoherent sounds. You’re grasping at rescue from this pleasure.

“Hah..” Suguru’s serrated breaths kiss your lips. “Try again.”

“Suguru, please. I’m cu—I’m pink..pink.”

“Wrong color, princess.” Satoru’s husks above you. Tears of his thick cum streaming steady down his shaft.

Suguru’s bucks into you relentlessly now. Chasing the high you both are riding. Shredding what consciousness you have left. Not that you wanted it, not that you needed it.

“Fuck.”

Suguru’s hips come to a screeching halt. Floating over Shoko’s cushion. Painting your warm walls with his seed. With you filling his lap with your dew. Delirious, choppy intakes of air between your lips and his.

Momentarily forgetting your audience, you instinctively fall into his chest. Every single muscle in your body, suddenly without tone.

Satoru’s mouth is ajar.

Still not completely comprehending the fact that he just came — hands free — watching his best friend rail the conscious mind out of you.

“Blanket, Satoru.” Shoko quietly nudges from her position on the couch.

She can’t blame him for being stunned in place. Her mind is still reeling at the dessert her eyes just feasted on.

“Come here, baby.” Suguru murmurs. Working himself out of you, while Satoru drapes you in Shoko’s throw.

“Thank you.” A tiny chuckle escapes your lips. Cozying into Suguru’s arms. They should be proud of your manners.

And as if you said your cheeky thought out loud, your three lovers break into soft laughter.

“Wait here.” Satoru presses a chaste kiss to your damp forehead. Disappearing into Shoko’s bathroom a moment after.

A small sigh of relief tumbles out of her when she hears the familiar sound of bath water running.

Satoru must’ve done this before. Once or twice.

Suguru, too.

Judging by the way he’s whispering sweet affirmations in your ear. Lulling you to sleep. In his warm, safe embrace.

She’s never seen her friend like this.

“Girls! Bath time!” Satoru beckons from the bathroom.

His voice rustles you out of your post coital daze. Nestling deeper into the crook of Suguru’s neck. Shoko watches the way his eyes rest on your flushed face; stroking his hand along your arm. Intermittently pressing kisses along your hairline.

An enchanting, glass doll they were so eager to shatter just a moment ago.

“Ready, baby?”

Suguru murmurs into your ear. And Shoko just knows he’s hoping for a no. Silently praying for more time with you, pliant in his arms like this.

“Mmhm.” Your puffy lips curl up into a sleepy smile. Glossy-eyed, when you finally pull your heavy lids open.

Suguru’s breath catches in his throat.

Shoko’s heart rattles around its bony cage.

How do you do this?

How do you make it so easy to trip and fall so hopelessly in love with you with a bat of an eyelash?

“…I get it guys, but the water will get cold. And that would be a shame. Because this bath is, perfect.”

Satoru teases from the bedroom doorway. Startling Shoko and Suguru out of the trance you unintentionally put them in.

“You don’t have to carry me!” A half-protest bubbles from your lips when Suguru stands with you wrapped up in Shoko’s favorite blanket.

“Shhh, let me do this sweet girl.” He coos, for your ears only. Navigating around Satoru’s lean stature.

Shoko follows closely behind him, itching for her alone time with you.

“You’re going to let her feet touch the ground, Suguru?!”

Her sarcasm is followed by light-hearted laughter settling around your bodies.

The four of you in tandem like a world class orchestra. Shoko is already lamenting waking up from this dream.

“Not if I can help it.” Suguru sets you down on the kitchen sink. Nudging enough space for his muscular hips between your legs.

He cradles your chin in his hand. Taking as many butterfly kisses as you’ll allow.

“Mmm, goodnight, Suguru.”

His name rolls sweet and soft off of your tongue. Like a dark chocolate truffle, and suddenly Shoko wishes her name was Suguru.

Satoru does too. Judging by the way he yanks his counterpart away from you. His eyes caress your face before his hand does.

“How are you feeling, princess?”

Hushed and saccharine. Doting. As if a decibel too loud is akin to Hollow Purple. Circling his fingers around your thighs.

How foreign.

Shoko can almost taste Satoru’s concern. Attentive in a way that’s inconceivable.

From her vantage point, she watches you ensnare Satoru in those big, helpless doe eyes. Tempting him to fuck the living daylight out of you (again) but also handle you like a butterfly with a broken wing.

“Just a bit worn out, pretty boy.” Said with a dreamy little laugh. And Satoru would chase your voice into the clouds if he could.

He drapes your arms around his neck and you’re putty in his hands.

“Don’t look at me like that, baby.” He grazes the corner of your lips with his. A dull, insistent ache welling between Shoko’s legs.

You’re irresistible like this.

“Unless you want us to wear you out, again.”

“Satoru!” Your tiny, ineffectual fists slam against Satoru’s pecs. Making the trio even more fond of you.

Their muse.

“Alright boys, I can take it from here.”

Unhurried but finite, Shoko shoos her best friends out of the bathroom. Not before Satoru can steal one last kiss from your swollen lips.

In a matter of minutes Shoko is settled in a sea of warm, eucalyptus bubbles. The light sheen of essential oil grazing her skin, still glimmering with remnants of love-making.

Her eyes ride the dips and swells of your alluring lines.

Balmy skin decorated with lust-drunk imprints from Satoru, Suguru and herself. Hand prints. Tiny crescent moons from fingernails. Ellipses of bite marks. A kaleidoscope of red, blue, deep purple. Living, breathing residue of the desperation — the need — you so easily draw from them.

“Such a pretty girl.”

You flush under Shoko’s praise. Newly stroked desire bubbling in the back of her throat. You’re so full of averted gazes and warmed cheeks. Twiddling your thumbs. Tentatively shifting a few paces away from the bathtub.

So shy, now. It’s adorable.

“Come here, baby.” Shoko curls her fingers inward.

“Okay.” Your response high and thin. Feet moving without resistance.

Obedient little doll.

Shoko’s wet dreams couldn’t even come up with a vision this decadent. You’re an oil painting. Soft on the hands, even softer on the eyes.

You nestle in the warm waters between Shokos legs. Her nipples pebble against your supple flesh. Resting the back of your head on her chest. A lock-in-key fit.

Comfortable, serene quiet sheaths the room around you. And Shoko is soaring.

“I like you like this.” She presses a small kiss against your temple.

“Like what?” You whisper.

Shoko’s hands travel up your navel, cupping your sensitive tits. You arch into her touch. Kitten mewls escape you. So responsive.

“Soft.” Your nipples stiffen between her thumb and index finger.

“Vulnerable…a little broken.” Shoko continues. Catching your needy gaze. Pupils blown to full moons. She hovers her lips over yours. Already parted, hanging open. Ready to receive.

“Shoko.”

Such a beautiful, pitiful little whine. Tilting your chin up, chasing Shoko’s lips. But she maintains the minimal distance. Instead, kneading your mounds. Drawing a gorgeous melody of whimpers; squirming beneath her ministrations.

“I like being the one to put your pieces back together,” Shoko teases, dropping her tone. And you draw her in like a moth to flame.

Shoko’s lips slot into yours with ease. Puzzle pieces meant to fit. She swipes her tongue over yours. Nibbles along your puffy bottom lip.

You’re delicious.

And panting, when Shoko finally pulls away. Aurora borealis in your eyes. Sparkling. Expansive.

And even though you are putty in her hands right now. Docile and pliant, hanging on every brush of a finger, every kiss. Shoko is falling.

Free falling.

Without a safety stop in sight.

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dottieisdotting · 9 days ago

Text

TREAT ME LIKE A SLUT - SVT- hip hop unit

requested?: no

pairing(s): HHU unit x AFAB!reader

Genre: smut (MDNI)

warning(s): fivesome,dom/sub dynamics, p in v sex, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy), blindfolded reader,bondage,use of butt plug,vibrators,dildos, deep throating, spitting (fem!rec), overstim, degradation (slut, whore,cockslut, cumslut),praise (good girl, sweetheart, sweet girl,gorgeous),squirting,Dacryphilia,clit stimulation,nipple play,hair pulling, oral (m&f!rec), creampie, size kink, slight choking (fem!rec - on Gyu’s behalf),spanking, masturbation, begging (fem)

Summary:you always had a fantasy of your boyfriend (Wonwoo) and the rest of his unit to treat you like a slut

word count: 4k (give or take a little more)

A/N: so, I don't know what possessed me to write this but I've been thinking about it for a couple weeks, debating and whatnot. So go finally have this up and published feels relieving and i hope you all enjoy just this smutty mess for the hip hop unit xoxo – Eva

To say your sex life with Wonwoo was vanilla would be a complete lie. In the years of dating him, you have explored just about everything that you've been interested in but one thing that you guys have never done was invite another person into the bedroom.

It wasn’t that you weren't into the idea or anything but sex with Wonwoo was struck out of random places and times. To invite another person it would take time and commitment and both of you to agree on the said person who you’d fuck. So when you slyly mentioned that you wouldn't mind being treated like a slut by Wonwoo and the rest of his unit, he was delighted and secretly started to plan the long night out.

He got Vernon’s, Mingyu and Seungcheol schedules and figured out a day when they all got off together at the same time. He texted you that they were gonna come around for a couple hours. You were completely fine with it because they would normally come around too when they left work together.

You wait until they get there and welcome them all accordingly as they all trudge into the living room and take a seat on either the chairs or couch. You sit on the end tucked up to Wonwoo’s side as you listen to the conversation and sometimes talk. Wonwoo mindlessly strokes your side as a sign of love but you couldn't help but feel aroused. He looked so manly with his fit and hair styled like that, and the pièce de résistance, the glasses that sat on his face so perfectly. God, you could've cum right there and then but you had dignity and (some) self-control.

You look over to Vernon, his black hair, small comforting smile and casual outfit, Mingyu and his bulging muscles and puppy eyed expression and then the leader, Seungcheol and his lazy eyes and small smirk. It made you needy but you were able to control it - for now.

Wonwoo looked at you and saw your flushed cheeks and ears and how tightly your legs were clenched together. He smirked, reaching his hand to your thigh and rubbing it gently, showing no motive for sex but you knew he was only teasing ”Wonu” you whisper and he hums to you already knowing what you were going to say ”need you, Wonwoo”, the words coming from your mouth set a spark of fire through Wonwoo’s body and he groans softly, shifting in his seat as he feels himself becoming hard.

He grips your thigh tightly. His other hand leaves your side and slips under your leggings tracing your hip and down to your panties. You squirm slightly making Mingyu look over and ask if you are okay, you nod and hum as Wonwoo cups your pussy in his hand making the 3 other men look over and down at your mewl. Wonwoo smirks as he feels the slight damp patch on your panties.

He pulls his hand away and sits you on his lap, legs spread. You blush and look away, he told them about your fantasy and they were here to fulfil it. ”don't be shy, sweetheart,” you hear Mingyu say and he shifts and stands up walking to you and kneeling on the floor, in between your spread legs

Your breathing increases as you see Mingyu kneel. You thought it was a dream, him on the floor whilst you sat on your boyfriend's lap, panties soaked. ”Please” you beg, wanting something from any of the four men that were sitting in your living room. Wonwoo patted your hip and removed his hand from your panties. You stood and went to the bedroom, waiting for them to follow.

They were taking too long so you strip from your shirt and leggings leaving yourself in your bra and panties but you wanted to be fully bare so you remove your bra,letting your tits free and shimmy your panties down. You were now completely naked except the buttplug in your ass, courtesy of Wonwoo and his schemes.

You were soaking and no one seemed to be coming to you so you decided to grab a dildo from where they were kept and some lube. It was an average purple silicone dildo, not massively long and girthy but enough to get you to your orgasm when Wonwoo wasn't at home. You uncap the lube and put some on the dildo, letting it coat it. You sit on your knees and position it so you could just slide down it and so you did. Inch by inch you move slowly down the toy until you are at its hilt. You moan, not caring how loud, as you get used to it.

You lift yourself and move back down, hearing yourself and seeing yourself through the mirror that was on the wall in front of your bed. You keep moving, switching from rolling your hips to bouncing as you feel your stomach tighten, you were already close because you were so worked up. You moan out and cry out a different name every time making sure you were loud enough for everyone to hear. You shut your eyes and keep your mouth open letting all the noises fly out from expletives to whines and whimpers.

Your orgasm ripples through you,leaving you heaving and breathless. You open your eyes and see four pairs of eyes staring at you, you instantly blush and remove the dildo from inside you now covered in your cum and juices.

You hear someone tsk and walk over to the bed. It was your boyfriend, Wonwoo. ”Look at you being a naughty little slut, you couldn't wait for us, hmm? What a bad girl. Turn around, gorgeous, let me see the plug in your cute little ass” the praise and degradation in his words make you mewl and follow his instructions. You turned around so you were facing the wall on your knees. You lean down so you are face down ass up and wait ‘patiently’ for your decided punishment. You knew it was spanking but you didn’t know how many you’d receive. There were four of them after all.

Suddenly a hand comes down, hard, on your left ass cheek making you jolt forward and yelp. You look back and see Mingyu ready to bring his hand down again. You close your eyes and wait for the impact. It comes down again. Seungcheol says ”Be a sweet girl and take the punishment, yeah? 5 from each of us to learn your lesson” you whimper in response whilst, for the third time, Mingyu’s hand smacks your arse. He lays his last two on your left cheek and switches with Vernon.

He spreads your legs a little more so he could see your glistening pussy, juices leaking out. You whimper and look behind you. Vernon’s eyes were only looking at your pussy, almost admiring it. He lifts his hand and leaves a small smack on your pussy. You jolt with that. You’d never had your pussy slapped before but it felt oddly nice? For some reason you wanted it again so Vernon did it again, directly on your clit another 4 times, quick and easy.

You were half way through your (possible) neverending punishment. Your left arse cheek was hurting and your pussy was soaking and needy. Next up was Wonwoo who was also quick with his punishment,leaving your right arse cheek red too. You felt overwhelmed in pleasure and you couldn't get enough, you needed more, so much more. Seungcheol was the final one and you were quite scared for his turn.

He sees the slight fear in your face and leans down to press a kiss on each ass cheek and clit before bringing his hand down twice on each cheek then his final on your clit making you flinch hard and fall onto the bed. You were a trembling mess who was fighting for a release.

”poor little whore, can’t even deal with one spanking” you shake your head in protest. ”I can, I can, I swear!” you turn around and look at them all. They were all sporting either semis or full hard-ons. To know that you made them like this through only spanking you felt a little bit of pride with a shitload of smugness. You bite your lip and get off the bed and kneel in front of Wonwoo,looking up at him with your pretty doe eyed look.

He looks down at you,reaching out to caress your cheek softly. You reach up to his belt and unbuckle it,pulling it off, undoing his pants and pulling them down and off. He was left in his boxers, bulge noticeable in his CK briefs. You were practically salivating for his cock whilst the other three stood/ sat, cocks aching for your mouth,hands, pussy. They all needed you so badly but you were going to please Wonu first.

You pull his boxers down, cock being freed as you wrap your hands around it. You hear his breathing increase as you look up, moving your hands and kitten licking the leaking tip. You take the tip in your mouth and suck it softly, teasing him with your tongue. A hand comes down to the back of your head, carding through it before pushing your head down to take his cock further down your throat. You gag and Vernon looks worried but Wonu brushes it off ”she’s a little cockslut, loves to gag on my dick, don't you gorgeous?”

You moan around him and bob your head, up and down, up and down continuously. You cup his balls and remove his dick from your mouth, going down to suck his balls and jerk him off. Wonwoo groans and moans as you work your mouth all over his cock and balls. His hand tightens in your hair and bucks his hips forward ”gonna cum down that pretty throat of yours, sweet girl, take all of it and you can have the other cocks” you get back to bobbing your head, licking and swirling your wet appendage all over his length.

Wonwoo gets all whiny and whimpery when he gets close and with a few firm sucks on the tip, his cum was coating your throat, thick ropes eloping down your oesophagus. You didn't stop moving your head until he was pulling your mouth off of him from oversensitivity.

You pull off him with an audible pop and swallow thickly,looking up and Wonwoo with your watery eyes.He strokes your cheek and tells Seungcheol to lie down and for you to climb on his face. Your sopping pussy was now in direct contact with Seungcheol’s mouth as he licks and sucks softly at your clit making you moan and roll your hips.

You look up and notice Vernon and Mingyu at the foot of the bed with their cocks out, hard and ready. You take both of them in your hands and jerk them off. You keep your hips going, Seungcheol’s nose bumping your clit as he eats you out like a starved man. You tighten your hands and move them quicker,leaning forward to suck and lick Mingyu and Vernon’s tips one at a time. The scene was already filthy and the night has not properly started yet. If this was the starter, you were in for a fucking treat all through tonight.

”Cheollie, m’gonna cum!” you moan as you feel your orgasm start to build. It started at your toes and top of the head, compressing down to your stomach, feeling like you needed to pee. You knew you were gonna squirt, the telltale signs so obvious to you now that Wonu had made you do it so many times in the past. ”oh shit,shit, shit” you moan out loud as your liquid squirts into Seungcheol’s mouth, down his chin soaking his shoulders. You throw your head back. Your chest heaves as Seungcheol moves you off of his, now soaking, face so you could continue pleasuring Vernon and Mingyu.

You tease them by licking their tips. They were desperate for a release and so they came. Mingyu was louder than Vernon, moaning and groaning as you jerked him off through his orgasm whispering sweet things such as; ”so good for coming all over me. I love it Gyu, more, gimme more” Vernon on the other hand was quiet but he bucked his hips to get over the afterwaves of his orgasm. You release their cocks from your hands and go lay down, waiting for what is coming next.

Wonwoo walks over and ties a black, silk blindfold over your eyes. Next was Vernon with a belt ”hand to your front, sweetheart” and so you follow, hands on your stomach as Vernon ties them together in a makeshift handcuff situation. ”My sweet girl, are you gonna let us fuck you now, all of us in your tight little pussy? Can you take all of us, gorgeous? Let us fill you nice and full like the little cumslut you are” you nod your head and respond verbally. ”yes, i'll be your cumslut, i'll take it all like a good little cockslut”. You couldn't see but you knew all of them were smirking at your obedience just for some cock, you were desperate and aching to be filled up, to be taken and used by 4 hot men.

Someone pulled you so your legs were dangling off the bed, a pillow got situated under your hips and small kisses were left down your body. You giggle at the softness and hear Mingyu’s chuckle. You spread your legs further as one of them ends up on Gyu’s shoulder and he jerks himself,lining his cock up with your sopping needy little hole. He slowly pushes in, feeling your gummy walls stretch to his size

You moan at the intrusion. You try your hardest not to clench as he bottoms out, giving you time to adjust before he begins to move. Mingyu pulls out just until his tip is inside you then slams his hips forward quickly, making your body jolt. He holds your legs to his chest,together so you’d be more tight for him. His pace is relentless,hard and fast, not slowing down and putting his thumb on your clit rubbing small figure 8’s on it,driving you mad already like you didn't have another 3 cocks to take tonight.

”Gyu, so good, you're so deep and’ i’m so full” your eyes were half shut, pupils blown out with pleasure as you get fucked raw by Mingyu. He was loving every second of it too. Your soft walls are practically suffocating his fat cock, wanting to be milked dry by you. He moans, not shameful but very vocal on how good your pussy was. He kisses your calf as he moves your legs so you are folded in half as he speeds up more (if that was possible). He moves his hands to hold your legs to keep you folded.

Your orgasm was coming quickly as you moaned as loud as you wanted. You couldn't see anything but you felt the tears running down your soft cheeks. Nails indenting your palms as your breathing irregular as your impending orgasm makes your body tingle ”Gyu, please, please. M’gonna cum!” he hums and mumbles (in the jumbled moans coming from him) that he was getting close too.

He lets your legs go and they fall back down onto the bed as you try to move your hips in time with the brutal pace Mingyu had set for you since you were so desperate for cock. ”gonna take it all for me, huh? Be a good little cumdump for me, nice and deep. Fill you till your stomach is full, sweetheart” Mingyu yet again praises and degrades you just how you like it and it makes you continuously clench until you reach your peak and come around his cock.

You moan, whimper and whine and lift your hips, as Mingyu comes too, filling your pussy with white ropes of his come. You loved it, the feeling of being helpless, bound and blinded for your boyfriend and friends to use. You felt dirty, whore-like but it's what you wanted. Mingyu eventually pulls out of you, a string of his and your cum leaking out onto the sheets below, like you cared.

He leans down, kissing you softly and praising you for taking his cock so well and how wonderful you felt. His words brought you a splash of pride and you thank him quietly. The blindfold gets removed and you see Vernon as soon as it was lifted ”Nonie” you whisper and he strokes your head, peppering your face with small kisses. He answers to the nickname and undoes the belt on your wrists, kissing the slightly reddened marks. ”Need you to roll onto your stomach, sweet girl,” you nod and do just that, adjusting the pillow but Vernon removes it and lifts your hips ”ass up, gorgeous”

You leave your ass up and feel Vernon get behind you tying the blindfold once again before he lines up quickly not wanting to waste his time to have you to himself. He slowly pushes in and lets out a small huff as he bottoms out feeling immense pleasure already unmoving. He lets you get used to it, not wanting to go fast and bring you to the limit right away, he wanted to go slow and drag it out as much as he could before he came.

”Move, Nonie, you can move” Vernon pulls out slowly to slide right back in, finding a slow pace, deep strokes making you feel every inch of him. You whimper every time his tip kisses your g-spot. You struggle to keep your hips still so you claw the sheets below you. ”mm, feels good” his deep, slow strokes were bringing you to ecstacy

It was a lot different from Mingyu's but you didn't mind one bit in fact you loved this after the rough relentless pace You endured. Vernon kept this way the entire time it took you to reach your peak, his hand reaching under to rub your clit making your orgasm more intense,longer lasting. Your legs quiver as your hands relax on the sheets.

Vernon pulls out,kissing down your back and rolling you over to your back and sitting you up. He unties the blindfold and the light makes your eyes squint. Your boyfriend,Wonwoo, had gotten you a drink and a little pack of Haribo cherries to bring your energy back up for him and Seungcheol, knowing you get tired quickly.

You eat them and drink half the water before you are ready again. Seungcheol sits on the bed coaxing you over to sit on his lap ”got enough energy to ride me gorgeous girl?” You look at Seungcheol, still slightly tired. You nod anyway and sit up on your knees, gently grabbing and lining his cock up with your hole. Seungcheol was long and girthy, you knew it’d be a stretch but you could cope, maybe. There was only one way to find out so you slide down his cock slowly,careful not to hurt yourself.

You had to relax yourself so you could bottom out which took some time. Finally you sat fully on Seungcheol’s cock feeling full as you looked down to see where your bodies connected. He notices and gently lifts your chin, bringing your lips closer to his so he could kiss you. Seungcheol lets you set the pace, rocking your hips,circling them before lifting up and bringing yourself back down onto him. He mostly groans quietly along with your gentle moans and mewls,speaking degrading praise into your ear,pressing kisses down your neck.

Seungcheol had one of his hands on your hip,rubbing it and the other on your tits, squeezing, sucking,licking,kissing them,showing them attention. You speed up your movements and that's when Seungcheol begins to meet his hips up to yours. He leans back so he could punch up to your tight, dewy cunt. You let your mouth stay open. You couldn't give two flying fucks if you started to drool. You already had 3 dicks including Cheol's inside of you.

”mmh, ngh” you weren't making any sense, your brain was mushed as your body moved by itself bouncing on his cock chasing another mind blowing orgasm quickly. You lean down and kiss him sloppily, not caring. You loved it, he loved it. Seungcheol started to rub your clit to bring more pleasure to your shaking body. ”ahh, ahh, oh God, yes Cheol, yes!” He smirked loving every sound from your slutty mouth.

You couldn't anymore. You lean forward still moving your hips whilst your head rested on his shoulder. At this point Seungcheol was doing all the work as you chased your release. Seungcheol was also close, thrusts becoming sloppy and uncoordinated, he was panting and kissing anywhere he could reach. His tip graced your g-spot making your walls spasm and tighten around his cock milking you to your release and his.

You sit up and rock your hips to ride out your highs. You were spent and still had one more cock to go, your boyfriend's cock.you lift your hips and let Seungcheol slide out of you. Your legs felt like jello and ready to collapse at any moment. Seungcheol moved off of the bed,letting Wonwoo take his place and lay down on it. You crawl to him and lay down so your back is against his chest. He holds your legs open. You clench around nothing, letting the other 3 mens cum drip out of you.

He lines his cock to your slutty hole and sinks into you, you clench around him instantly,your cunt welcoming him back. You whimper and rest your head on his shoulder as he pumps up into you. You couldn't help but just moan out how good it felt. Wonwoo makes you hold your legs open for him as he rubs your belly and clit.

”feels so good, baby, love it. Love your cock so much” you feel his breathing in your ear. He kisses it softly and keeps his hips going. You roll your hips downwards as much and you could ”there we go, such a beautiful cumslut for us all. Want to be nice and full of all of us” you whine at his words only for him to praise you. ”gorgeous girl, took all of our cum, so well so proud of you”

Those words spurred you on to your last and most powerful orgasm, body trembling as you squirt,pushing his cock out of you. His cum leaks down his tip and around his glistening cock. Wonwoo's cum smeers onto your folds as your body shakes from the aftershock

He moves you off him and lays you on the bed. He kisses down your body,slowly soothing your shakes. He turns you on your side to remove the buttplug, you shiver and whimper but Vernon comes in clutch to kiss you to comfort.

Mingyu, now dressed with boxers, comes back with a damp towel for Wonwoo and you. Mingyu strokes your hair and kisses your forehead and cheeks repeatedly whilst Wonu cleans your thighs and pussy. You shiver and feel Seungcheol pick you up bridal style and take you to the already run bathtub due to Vernon running it.

It had a bath bomb in and rose petals. He had lit some candles making it cosy. You lay back and relax. You sip some water that was provided by your boyfriend as he joins you in the bath to soak for a while.

After nearly an hour the water turned colder and it was time to get out. Wonu wraps a towel around his waist before helping you dry off. He guides you into your shared room and dresses you in pj's. He lays you down in bed and gets in beside you, kissing you goodnight. ”did you enjoy it sweet girl”

You nod sleepily and cuddle into him closing your eyes ”I wanna do it again sometime, i love you” Wonwoo smiles and holds you close ”One day baby, but not soon, let's get you rested up. I love you”

#choi seungcheol #seungcheol smut #seventeen #seventeen x reader #svt #kim mingyu #mingyu smut #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo smut #hansol vernon chwe #vernon smut #hansol smut #seventeen smut #smut #kpop

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solxamber · 1 month ago

Note

Hello! I humbly request Skully J. Graves for the spooky season, please and thank you! (Ps, I LOVE YOUR VILLIANESS SERIES SO MUCH. if you put him in the series, I would love it. Thank you.

Frights and Fancies - Skully J. Graves x reader

I've finally finished the first part of the Halloween event story and here we go! Skully J. Graves for the spooky season!

(this was written before part 2 of the event was out so it might be ooc)

It was almost Halloween, and the Ramshackle Dorm looked like it had exploded in pumpkins, cobwebs, and fake skeletons. Well, not fake enough for Skully, who was currently trying to rearrange a skeleton to perfectly mimic Jack Skellington’s iconic pose.

“This is it! This is exactly how Jack looked when he stood atop Spiral Hill!” Skully beamed, leaning back with a gleeful twirl. “I could cry!”

“Please don’t,” Grim muttered, slumped on the couch like a cat who’d had enough of life. “I’ve seen way too much Halloween today. I’m exhausted.”

You stifled a laugh as Skully pranced across the room, his long coat flowing behind him dramatically. He stopped by a cobweb you’d just hung, delicately adjusting it with reverence. “Ah, this is a masterpiece! The precision, the artistry—oh, Jack would be proud!”

“I bet Jack has a restraining order,” Grim mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

Skully didn’t seem to notice the sass. “You don’t understand, Grim! Jack Skellington is the Pumpkin King! He is the very soul of Halloween! Imagine... if I could bring him here, right to this very dorm... oh, we would throw the greatest Halloween party the world has ever seen!”

“You’re throwing it right now, and I hate it,” Grim muttered, pulling a pillow over his head.

Skully, undeterred, rushed over to the pile of pumpkins by the door, holding up the largest one like a trophy. “This one’s going to be the pièce de résistance! I’m going to carve Jack’s face into it—oh, the precision, the skill! It’ll be a tribute!”

You were barely able to stop yourself from laughing as Skully started sketching an intricate face into the pumpkin. It was hard not to get caught up in his excitement, even if it was a little... obsessive.

“Hey, uh, shouldn’t we maybe, I don’t know, check the snacks or something?” you suggested, trying to save Grim from further mental collapse. “We’ve got a whole room full of sweets to prepare.”

“Oh! Of course!” Skully jumped to his feet, pumpkin forgotten. “We must create a feast worthy of Halloween Town itself! Grim, you’ll love this—there will be so many sweets, you won’t be able to handle it!”

“Sounds like my personal hell,” Grim groaned, finally sitting up. “Do we have to? I was kinda hoping to nap.”

Skully was already halfway to the kitchen, humming some eerie tune under his breath. You shot Grim an apologetic look, but he was too busy glaring at the ceiling like he was making a pact with some unseen force to end Halloween forever.

The kitchen was soon filled with the smells of spiced pumpkin and sugary treats. Skully was in his element, flitting around like a Halloween-obsessed ghost, talking nonstop about Jack Skellington, the Pumpkin King, and all the Halloween traditions from his foggy village.

“And no one here at school even knows about Jack!” Skully was saying for probably the twentieth time. “Can you believe that? It’s like they’ve never even heard of Halloween!”

“Maybe they’re lucky,” Grim grumbled, stuffing his face with a pumpkin tart.

Skully either didn’t hear him or didn’t care. He had already moved on to decorating cookies, carefully icing tiny skeleton faces onto each one. “Jack’s elegance, his charisma! He’s the epitome of what Halloween should be.”

“Jack this, Jack that...” Grim sighed dramatically. “If I hear that name one more time—”

“I could name the pumpkin Jack,” Skully suggested, completely serious.

“No!” Grim snapped. “Let the pumpkin live its own life! Let it be free!”

You snorted, almost dropping the tray of cupcakes you were setting out. Skully blinked, confused for just a moment, before smiling his usual charming smile. “Ah, Grim, you always know how to liven things up.”

“I’m this close to being a ghost myself,” Grim muttered.

By the time the evening rolled around, Ramshackle Dorm had been transformed into a veritable Halloween haven. Cobwebs draped across the walls, pumpkins lined every surface, and the faint glow of eerie lights filled the air. Skully stood in the center of it all, arms wide open as he surveyed his masterpiece.

“This... this is the Halloween of my dreams,” Skully said softly, his voice full of awe. “I couldn’t have done it without you two.”

Grim gave a halfhearted wave from his spot on the couch, already half-asleep again, but Skully’s gratitude was genuine. You smiled, watching as he twirled around one more time, completely in his element.

“Well,” you said, “if Jack Skellington could see this, I’m sure he’d be impressed.”

Skully’s face lit up like a jack-o’-lantern. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely,” you replied, adjusting a crooked pumpkin. “You’ve done Halloween proud.”

Skully gave a deep bow, flourishing his coat as if he were addressing royalty. “Then, in Jack’s name, I thank you both!”

From the couch, Grim groaned. “I’m gonna need a vacation after this…”

As Skully danced around the room, humming Halloween tunes and praising Jack Skellington, you couldn’t help but smile. Sure, it had been a lot of work, but seeing Skully so happy—and hearing Grim’s constant complaints—made it all worth it.

This was going to be a Halloween to remember.

Masterlist

Also I'd love to add him the the villainess series, but I'll wait till atleast part 2 of the Halloween event to completely understand him before I do!

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #skully j graves #twst skully #skully x reader #skully j graves x reader #twst skully x reader #skully j. graves #skully j. graves x reader

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pomefioredove · 2 months ago

Note

Hello! I would like to request overblot boys + cater & tweels finding out that the reader who is usually shy and calm all the time is actually a streamer/vtuber. They’re very chaotic when they stream like whenever they get jumpscare, reader would scream really loud and when they find something funny, they would let out the most contagious laugh that would also make their viewers laugh at the most unfunniest things.

Thats all! Please take your time and take care╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ vtuber reader

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, cater, leona, azul, jade, floyd, jamil, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu

Cater first came across your content on Magicam. you're popular enough to have people reposting clips of your streams, and, of course, he recognized the cadence of your voice. after a little investigation, he's sure it's you... though he hasn't brought it up quite yet. he's keeping that info for when he needs it

he did, however, tell Riddle, who...

"I don't understand,"

...yeah. he doesn't get your jokes or your avatar or anything really, but he still follows and watches to support you... not that he'd ever admit it

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

how did Leona find out? your guess is as good as mine. maybe you let something slip, maybe Cater said something, maybe he just had a feeling

either way, he really enjoys the look on your face when he holds up his phone to show you one of your own streams

"This you?"

...then, he never brings it up again

whether he still watches is for him to know, and you to guess

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jade always had a suspicion that you were more than meets the eye, but he never had any reason to pry until Floyd let himself into your room while you were in the middle of a stream

"OOH, pretty, can I try?"

of course, you have to fend him off from your keyboard, and he settles for watching, instead

the next time you stream, he's there again, with Jade, too

the time after that, Azul is also watching

you have no idea why the three of them find this side of you so captivating, but they're quiet, so you let them stay

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

I feel like Kalim is more online than you'd think. he probably saw a clip of you in a try not to laugh compilation and brought it to Jamil

"Hey, look, their name kinda sounds like our friend! What a funny coincidence!"

Jamil doesn't say anything then, but later, he does look into it. it doesn't take a genius to put the pieces together, after all

he doesn't say anything to you. it's hardly enough for blackmail, and he sees no other reason to bring it up

sometimes, though, when he's alone and working, he'll put on a stream just to hear your voice

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Rook knows, because of course Rook knows, and of course he tells Vil when he feels like it

and of course Vil looks you up out of curiosity, and of course he's surprised to see that you have quite a following. nothing compared to his, but he can't blame you for that. he wonders why you never talk about this, but assuming you have a good reason, he doesn't ask you to, either

...he could never admit that he finds your silly jokes and bits funny, anyway

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Idia is the pièce de résistance in all of this

he knew before Kalim, he knew before Cater, he even knew before Rook

he'd been going through different streams and stumbled across yours because he thought your avatar was cute, and...

of course, he recognized you. the way you pause when you're talking, your laugh, even your choice of jokes, is all so... you. he knew you were hiding something behind that shyness

he's been a subscriber and donator since he recognized you, and the only reason he's never brought it up IRL is because he'd pass out if he had to talk to you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

poor Malleus

he's the only one who didn't know until you told him personally (and, even then, he was confused)

it's not like Silver or Sebek are regularly watching vtuber streams, and if Lilia were (he probably is), he wouldn't have said anything. so, it's up to you

it takes a bit to explain everything, and you'll have to show him your avatar to satisfy his curiosity, but he understands everything rather easily

though, he notes that your avatar is not nearly as cute as you are in real life

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #queued #riddle rosehearts x reader #cater diamond x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader

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bring-forth-his-sac · 11 days ago

Text

World of Trouble

Summary: Your Halloween costume leads to a punishment from the man himself...

Pairing: Saviors! Negan x f!reader

Tags: !NSFW! spanking, fingering, p in v penetration, (consensual) punishment sex, Negan being a cocky asshole, orgasm denial, praise kink, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, little bit of cum play ?

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: ok this fic is choppy, janky and just all over the place. I wrote it in a day and a half so it was a complete rush cause I want to get it out for Halloween so yeah, pls be kind

You thought it was funny.

After all, don’t people need a joke in times like this? Isn’t everything bleak enough? That was your reasoning when the idea initially popped into your head for the perfect apocalyptic Halloween costume.

Despite Negan being a man who loves to tell a joke, no matter how risqué or inappropriate the timing, you weren’t sure how Negan would react if he's the butt of one.

Ever since late August, you had been wavering on the idea. Some nights you were adamant that your choice in Halloween costume would end in you being bound to the fence alongside the dead.

In the midst of your internal debate, while out on a run, you came across the ultimate sign that set aside your indecision.

A leather jacket.

It wasn’t an exact replica of Negan’s and it hung loosely on your frame but it was the push you needed. You already had a white t-shirt in your limited closet and you’d pay the few points needed for some black jeans.

A red scarf was harder to come across but most definitely a necessary piece. Ever since the leaves began to fall off the trees surrounding the Sanctuary, Negan’s red scarf has been making an appearance, tucked neatly in by the collar of his leather jacket.

You had to be inventive, scavenging an old sweater and cutting it up to create a makeshift scarf that at least remotely resembled the original.

And finally, the pièce de résistance. Your trusty companion. Your very own, bootleg Lucille.

Thankfully barbed wire wasn’t the problem. In the Sanctuary, something like that can be found stored in at least half of the supply closets, hoarded away for the fence or in case the real Lucille needs a quick spruce up.

The real issue was a baseball bat. It wasn’t as if the Saviors were regularly raiding school gyms or stadiums, and so there was hardly any sports equipment for you to choose from.

It was a struggle and eventually, you ended up with a hockey stick that some Savior decided to put into the armoury.

It wasn’t Lucille but hell, it’d have to do.

Everything was ready. You even found some long expired brown eyeshadow and decided to dab some on the bottom of your face so it looks like you have a beard. And so your look was complete, possibly the very first costume to ever exist of your fearsome leader.

And how long did it last?

40 minutes. It didn’t even take a full hour of you strutting around before word got back to Negan.

When you imagined the impending confrontation, you assumed it would be a lieutenant telling you off as Negan spewed insults over a walkie talkie.

It’s only now, when you hear the low grating noise of Lucille dragging along the ground, growing nearer and nearer, do you realise you won’t be getting off so easily.

Slowly turning, you bring your hockey stick decorated in barbed wire up to your shoulder, mirroring a pose you’ve seen him do plenty of times.

“Well, ho-ly shit! I don’t know whether I should be smug or freaked the fuck out!” he declares, his gaze wandering down your outfit “you’ve really out done yourself this time, doll”.

You shrug, hoping that if you seem casual about this then he’ll let it slide. “It’s Halloween” you say bluntly, hoping that’s the only excuse you need.

Some Saviors linger around you both, a mixture of excitement and anticipation radiating from them at your Negan costume and Negan's ambiguous reaction.

“And you thought the creepiest thing you could dress up as is me?” he narrows his eyes at you, subconsciously mimicking your own pose as he lifts Lucille up onto his shoulder.

You open your mouth to respond but no words come out, a slight sense of dread setting in. A beat of tense silence hangs in the air, thick and charged, as if the whole Sanctuary is holding its breath.

A deep chuckle cuts through the silence as Negan clasps a hand on your free shoulder.

“Well, fuck me, I am honored!” he beams “you even smeared some shit on your face so ya look like you got a beard! Now that’s the kind of dedication I like to see from you sorry fucks!”.

He steps away from you, letting his hand drop off of your shoulder as he raises his voice, making sure the others hear.

Relief washes over you. You could feel the tension draining from your muscles at his approval.

“I love it,” Negan says, his voice growing serious again “but Lucille? Now Lucille here isn’t a big fan of copy cats and that limp dick excuse of a Lucille you got hanging over your shoulder? That shit just makes her see red”.

Any warmth in Negan’s eyes fade. His brows knit together as his mouth becomes a hard line, replacing any sense of humor. “And she thinks this is worthy of a punishment” he adds.

Fuck.

Negan doesn’t wait around for your reaction, turning on his heels as he barks for you to follow. You do so hesitantly, knowing there’s nowhere to run and that this is something you’ll unfortunately have to face head on.

This isn’t the first time you’ve done something daring while living in the Sanctuary. Although, this is the first time you’ve seen him genuinely annoyed.

Usually Negan has always appreciated your boldness, especially when most of the Sanctuary’s residents are too scared to even look him in the eye. In the past, you’ve tried to poke and prod at Negan’s authority by complaining about sanitary products costing points or the lack of blankets available to the workers during Winter.

Grimacing to yourself as you follow behind him, you wonder if you’ve finally taken it too far.

Marching up the flights of stairs to his private quarters, you try to ignore the confused looks of others as two Negan's pass them by.

Despite knowing you’re in for a world of trouble, a small smirk tugs at your lips, glad to have brought some sense of silly excitement to the Sanctuary.

You try not to show your shock as he brings you to his bedroom, making sure the door is locked behind you. You only take a few steps into the room before you stop and simply loiter there, watching as Negan sets Lucille down by the doorway to the ensuite before going inside.

“Y’know there are no actual rules about impersonating so I don’t think you have the grounds to punish me” you attempt to defend yourself, setting your fake Lucille against the wall.

“Talking back won’t help your case,” Negan calls out.

You scoff out a laugh as you get distracted by his room. A part of you can’t help but wonder why a man like Negan would want half the things that litter the area: trophies from other people’s past glory, a vase, a houseplant.

“Yeah well, it’s just some fun, it’s—“ suddenly Negan’s there, right next to you with his gloved hand too close for comfort.

He cups your face, squishing your cheeks together as his other hand brings a wet cloth to your face.

“And get that shit off your face,” he does the job for you “my beard ain’t that fuckin’ bad”.

You stay quiet, not wanting the embarrassment of trying to speak with your cheeks squished and a cloth rubbing at your face.

Once he’s satisfied your face is clean, he simply drops the cloth to the floor. Negan looks down at your attire “Well hot damn, good news is my style is incredibly sexy… but no matter how hot you look, thanks to me, you know I can’t let your shit slide anymore, sweetheart”.

You frown, a challenging look in your eyes.

“I’m serious, you’re pissing off too many Saviors with the shit you pull,” he yanks off his scarf, letting it land on the couch “and now, with this, you’ve forced my hand”.

Next, Negan takes off his leather jacket, inadvertently showing off some tattoos as he delicately places it on the back of his armchair.

“You know I gotta give you some kinda punishment… but that don’t mean it can’t be enjoyable for the both of us” he continues.

The smirk on his face says it all.

And just like that, it all makes sense. Of course he would bring you up to his bedroom and not to the cells when this is what he has in mind.

You shrug, some of your spirit returning in the form of a playful smirk “What? You gonna spank me?”.

“You want me to?” He unbuckles his belt and slowly pulls it through the loops of his jeans, the material hissing as it moves.

Negan has never been a man to bluff.

You try to act nonchalant but you can feel your cheeks heating up. “Maybe,” you play it coy “will you iron off half my face even if I say yes?”.

Now it’s Negan’s turn to shrug. “That depends, this a trick or a treat?” he asks.

Normally you’re not this bold. Maybe leather jackets give people unlimited confidence? That seems to be the only solution as you walk over to his couch and place both hands on the armrest. You bend forward just enough for Negan to see your intent.

You glance back over your shoulder, your eyelids at half mast as you throw him a sultry look. Negan keeps his eyes locked on to yours, his boots heavy on the floorboards as he walks up behind you.

The leather of his glove growls as he places his hand on the centre of your back and pushes you down further.

There’s no point in ignoring how your pussy throbs as he makes sure your head is against the couch cushions and your ass is up in the air, the armrest providing the perfect support.

“That's what I thought“ Negan praises, his hand slowly making its way down to your ass.

“And I thought I was getting punished, not a yoga class” you goad.

Negan doesn’t hesitate. He doesn’t even wait or let the anticipation of his response build. He goes straight for it, smacking your backside hard enough to leave a handprint.

A gasp leaves your lips, the sensation more stingy than it is painful. You have little time to prepare yourself as Negan wraps his belt around his hand.

“Just relax, baby,” he instructs softly, his tone in complete contradiction to his actions “and be grateful I’m letting ya keep your jeans on… for now”.

Despite your thin layer of clothes acting as a barrier, the belt bites into your flesh. The sound of the belt whistles through the air before meeting your ass with a sharp crack. He does it over and over again, alternating between cheeks.

You hiss at the sudden heat, your body clenching as the pain morphs into a dark, intoxicating pleasure.

“Well, damn!” Negan exclaims approvingly, momentarily stopping “you’re taking this like a trooper, ain’t ya?”.

He pauses and you wonder if he’s waiting for a response. You swallow, your throat dry from the amount of gasps you’ve let out in such a short span of time.

But before you can answer, you feel it. Not the belt. Not his hand delivering another slap. This time, it’s him; proud and unabashed as he brings his clothed crotch right against your ass.

Suddenly, the belt didn’t seem too hard.

“I think it’s about time I see my work of art” he declares, pressing his hips forward to make sure you feel his entrapped boner.

For a man so brutal, Negan’s touch is gentle as his fingers glide around the waistband of your jeans. He lets his touch linger there for a few moments, waiting for your sign of approval.

You’re well aware of Negan’s ego and how he wants to know just how badly you need him. He yearns to see that raw desire. As much as you want to banter back at him again, your brain fogs with need and you push back against him, your sore ass rubbing against his bulge.

He responses with a grunt as his hands slowly leave your waistband, too distracted to continue. Negan has something else in mind as he gives a slight tug of your hair, gesturing for you to stand upright.

You don’t even have time to turn to face him, your ass still snug against the tent in his pants as he roughly pulls you in for a bruising kiss.

His hand fists your hair, holding you in place as he devours you. Desperately trying to keep up, your breaths come out in short, sharp pants between desperate kisses.

Negan keeps his hand in your hair, using it to manoeuvre you away from his couch and over to the bed. The only time he takes his hands off of you is when the back of your legs hit against the soft bedsheets.

The second you’re able, you take off your leather jacket, watching Negan follow suit as he begins shedding his clothes.

Your jeans are the worst to take off, the rough denim scratching it’s way across your sensitive backside as you quickly discard it. Once you get to your bra and panties, you stop, wanting Negan to take off the rest.

Negan doesn’t have the same sense of modesty as you, not stopping until he’s completely bare. Sitting back on the bed, you bite your lower lip and shamelessly dart your eyes across his body.

The dark curls that cover his chest, the tattoos that scatter across his body, the happy trail of body hair that lead you lower, to where he stands erect and proud.

You gulp.

Negan joins you, kneeling on the bed in front of your body as he studies you. With a hum, he shakes his head. “No, this won’t do,” he tuts.

As the words hit you, a wave of self-consciousness washes over you. Whatever excitement that was evident in your face slowly drops away and you do nothing but blink up at him, waiting for Negan to continue.

“Yeah, I’m gonna want to fuck you in the leather jacket,” he elaborates “now that would be hot as all hell and I ain’t letting that jacket go to waste on my bedroom floor”.

You rolls your eyes as you let out a breath. “You fucking asshole” you huff, well aware that Negan was being vague on purpose just to toy with you.

He chuckles, unable to deny your accusation. “Careful baby, you start insulting me like that and you’ll be getting another spankin” he threatens playfully, though you know he’s being serious.

Negan leans down, almost hovering over you as his hands gently touch your bra straps.

“But first, you got more layers to shed” Negan lets each strap fall to your arms before his fingers deftly work the clasp of your bra, the metal giving way easily.

Without looking where it lands, Negan lets your bra drop to the side. You feel utterly exposed to his hungry gaze, watching as he drinks in the sight of you.

A groan leaves him as he reaches out, his calloused hands gently cupping the weight of your tits. His thumbs brush over your pert nipples, making your squirm at the contact.

“You going to play with my titties all day?” You question, hoping to spur him into action.

“It’s a punishment, doll,” he reminds you, bending to the side to pick up your leather jacket “if I decide all I want to do is stare and watch you finger that sweet little pussy till it’s raw, then that’s what’ll happen”.

“And is that what you want?” You ask, trying to maintain any self control you have. Part of you would actually apologize for your costume if it means getting his dick closer to your pussy.

“Nah, I want you to sit back and really think about what you did,” giving the jacket a quick shake, he spreads it out over your shoulder “think you can do that for me, darlin?”.

Making sure the jacket is secure over your shoulders, you adjust it to make sure your tits are still in view. “I guess I could try” you reply in a flirtatious tone, scooting back against the pillows.

“On the bright side, even though this is a punishment, I’m still a fuckin’ gentleman,” he says with a proud grin.

You're quick to notice how his hands inch up past your thighs and towards your panties. Hooking a finger underneath them, Negan gives a slight tug “So I’m gonna need to loosen you up before I fuck you senseless”.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you gently lift your hips. That cocky smile never leaves his face as Negan slowly drags your panties down your legs. In an instant, they’re gone from view and end up on the floor alongside the rest of your clothes.

Negan’s eyes lock onto your core, unable to help himself as he reaches out and parts your folds.

“Fuck, you’re that wet already?” he says it like a question despite the answer being on his fingertips. You bite your lip as his fingers brush against your wet, swollen flesh.

With a groan, Negan plunges two fingers into your warmth, scissoring them apart to stretch you out. You moan out, your back arching as he sets a steady pace.

“Y-yes,” you gasp out when the pad of his thumb finds your clit “keep doing that!”.

Negan curls his fingers upward, targeting your g-spot. The look on his face is like a kid at Christmas, completely elated to have his fingers deep in your pussy.

He adds a third finger, pumping them in and out of you, listening to your moans and gasps to gauge how close you are. Leaning down, Negan meets your arched body and nips at your breasts.

His mouth brushes against your skin as he tuts “C’mon now, don’t tell me you’re about to cum already!”.

You nod frantically, hands clutching at the bedsheets “Yeah, yeah I’m ready, I’m gonna—“.

Negan chuckles darkly and before you can reach your high, his fingers slow their pace.

“Oh, I don't know about that," he pulls his fingers out abruptly and gives your clit a light tap with them "you haven't earned that privilege yet, baby".

Your mind is in a haze as he licks his fingers clean, tasting you. It takes a few moments for your brain to compute what he’s denying you.

“I…” you begin but you trail off, your throbbing pussy begging for release “Negan, please, I— I get it, ok?”.

His smile softens slightly and if anything, it only makes you more wet. “I know you get it now,” he agrees, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek “maybe, sweetheart, just maybe… if you beg nice enough, I'll let you cum on my cock instead”.

You take his words as a challenge. Throwing out all sense of pride, you babble on “Please! Y-yeah I just, I need you inside of me, please Negan, I’ll be good”.

Every word goes straight to his dick.

Negan takes a moment to truly savour the sight of you begging and writhing under him, knowing this is some top notch jerking material he can use at a later date.

"Now that’s what I like to hear" he praises, positioning himself between your thighs. He grips your hips and thrusts into you in one smooth motion, filling you completely.

Even though the sudden stretch and fullness makes you feel breathless, you practically shout out “Negan!".

He pauses but only for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size. “Shhhhhhh,” he coos, his tone bordering on patronising “best be quiet before you wake up the wives, I’d hate to make those gals jealous”.

With a low groan, Negan begins to move, pulling back almost to the point of withdrawal before slamming into you once more. The leather jacket beneath you squeaks, each thrust pushing you further up the bed.

You can feel every inch of him, the primal yearning to cum on his cock sounding more and more appealing. Negan’s chest heaves as he labors over you, his body glistening as he works up a fine sheen of sweat.

He doesn’t know where to look. His eyes dart everywhere, trying to take in each part of your body. Negan watches your face, the desperation to cum etched into each expression. Of course he watches your tits too, seeing them jiggle with each thrust he gives you.

But his favourite part to watch is how well you‘re taking him. To see how your pussy welcomes each inch, letting him go flush against you every single time.

Bringing his gaze back up to your eyes, he pistons into you. “You’re close, I can feel it” he says with a clenched jaw, trying to hold off.

“Please!” is the first word out your mouth followed quickly by a gasp as Negan goes for your clit again. His thumb rubs firm circles around the sensitive nub, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you.

You inner walls clench desperately around his cock and before you know it, everything crashes around you as you finally cum.

It’s as if your whole world blurs together and all you can focus on is his cock deep inside of you.

Your pussy spasms violently around him, your vision whiting out as you moan loudly. Negan wants nothing more than to feel your sweet pussy throb around him but he knows he can’t hold off any longer.

He quickly pulls out and thrusts into his hand to finish. His cock glistens with your juices before Negan unloads a thick load right onto your tits.

You both pant, taking a brief moment to come down from your respective highs.

“Look at those beautiful titties,” Negan breaks the silence, admiring his handiwork “just when I thought they couldn’t look any better”.

Gently bringing a hand up, you run your finger along one of the lines he’s painted. “If I knew this is what the punishment would be, I would’ve pissed you off a lot sooner” you say breathlessly.

Negan hums as he flops down beside you, his eyes glued to how your fingertips play with his load.

“Maybe you should’ve,” he replies “or maybe this is a sign that we should have some fun like this more often”.

You bite back your smile “Maybe it’s both?”.

“But y’know I can’t really just be going around screwing anybody and everybody,” he continues, making you pause, unsure where this is going “it’s bad for the image, y’know?”.

Your expression doesn’t change.

Negan takes in your confused look, trying to put the pieces together for you. “I mean, I don’t think the wives would appreciate me screwing around… unless, of course, I was screwing around with another wife…”.

“Oh”.

That’s all you feel as though you can say. A part of you immediately tries to rationalise this, trying to convince yourself that you’ve got the wrong end of the stick here.

“Goddamn, did I really fuck you that hard?” Negan laughs “I’m asking you to marry me, baby, you should be jumping for joy right now!”.

You sigh, bringing your non-sticky hand up to your face “Negan…”.

“Negan, yes?”.

“Negan, I’m covered in your jizz and you’re seriously asking me this?! Now?!?” You exclaim.

He stops for a moment, taking in your words. “Huh, ok, good point,” Negan grunts as he gets up, giving you a great view of his ass “I’ll go get some towels and you think about it, yeah?”.

Before you have time to reply, he’s walking into his ensuite “And I want an answer when I come back!”. He disappears into the adjoined room, turning on the light.

You lay back, allowing the pillows to practically consume you. The thought passes through your mind if only for a split second.

It wouldn’t be that bad to be yet another wife, would it? All you’d have to do is look pretty and have good sex… and never socialise with anyone else… and only be seen as one of his wives and nothing more.

You close your eyes, hoping that would prolong the impending decision.

Letting out a long sigh, you curse “Fuck”.

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joelsrose · 1 month ago

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Howdy Cowboy

I am crazy but I am free - I need to study but can’t stop writing for my pookies

No warnings just tension and teasing and !hotcowboyJoel, reader is in her early/mid 20sss

You sighed, giving yourself one last look in the mirror, running a hand down your sides, smoothing out the simple black mini dress that clung to your skin. Paired with a pair of old cowboy boots you’d dusted off from the back of your closet, the outfit wasn’t exactly your usual style. But tonight wasn’t about you—it was Sarah’s birthday, and she had been planning this cowboy-themed party for months, insisting on holding it at the local rodeo bar. She hadn’t stopped talking about riding the mechanical bull, her excitement practically contagious.

You couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face as you thought of Sarah—her curls bouncing, her eyes lighting up with excitement as she finally got her moment on the mechanical bull. But even with all that anticipation, it wasn’t what had your heart racing the most.

It was Joel.

The second his name crossed your mind, a wave of butterflies exploded in your stomach, making you feel both giddy and a little breathless. The theme was cowboy, which meant Joel would definitely be in something dangerously fitting. Your mind drifted—what if he wore those perfectly worn jeans that sat just right on his hips, a cowboy hat tipped low over those deep brown eyes of his, maybe even an old shirt clinging to his chest in that way that made you look twice?

You could almost picture it—Joel walking into the bar, the dim light hitting him just right, his easy smile and that slow, purposeful stride making your heart skip a beat. It made you feel like a teenager with a crush all over again, the kind that leaves you breathless and flushed, and completely unsure what to do with yourself.

The thought of seeing him tonight, in the soft glow of the bar lights, dressed like that—it made your pulse quicken.

•••

You felt a flutter of nerves as you stepped inside, the buzz of energy from the bar wrapping around you. The dim lighting cast a warm, golden hue over the rustic wooden beams, making the place feel both intimate and alive. For Sarah’s birthday, the bar had been completely transformed—twinkling string lights hanging from the ceiling, a sea of cowboy hats and boots filling the room like something straight out of her dreams. Laughter rang out from every corner, the soft twang of country music humming in the background, setting the perfect tone for the night. It was exactly the kind of celebration Sarah had always envisioned, and a quiet thrill of excitement stirred in your chest, knowing how much this moment meant to her.

Spotting Sarah wasn’t hard; she stood near the mechanical bull, already in full party mode. Her wild curls framed her glowing face, and she was dressed to perfection—a denim mini skirt, a fitted white top, and, of course, the pièce de résistance: a rhinestone-covered cowboy hat perched on her head, catching the light with every move. A Birthday Girl sash draped across her chest, sparkling just as brightly. You couldn’t help but chuckle and shake your head at how perfectly Sarah she looked—radiant, confident, and completely in her element.

“Hey!” Sarah squealed the moment she spotted you, throwing her arms around you in a hug that radiated pure excitement. "You made it!"

"Of course, wouldn’t miss it for the world," you grinned, pulling back to take in her outfit. “You look incredible, by the way.”

Sarah’s face lit up even more, and she gave a little twirl, the rhinestones on her hat sparkling with every movement. "Thanks! Feelin’ like a proper cowgirl tonight," she winked, her energy infectious. "Now, go get yourself a drink from the bar and hurry back—I’ve got big plans for us!" she teased, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

You turned to move towards the bar, and that’s when you saw him—leaning casually against the wooden counter, drink in hand, the rim of his cowboy hat casting just enough shadow to hide his dark eyes. Joel. The breath hitched in your throat as your gaze settled on him. He looked even better than you had imagined—broad shoulders filling out his worn, flannel shirt, the sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal his forearms, strong and lightly scarred from years of hard work, flexing subtly as he lifted the glass to his lips. His faded jeans hung low on his hips, the belt buckle glinting under the dim bar lights, and that damn cowboy hat perched perfectly on his head, tipping ever so slightly forward as he brought the glass to his lips.

Your heart skipped a beat, the world narrowing to just him in that instant. Most men would look ridiculous dressed like that, a caricature of what a cowboy should be. But Joel? The way he wore it, the way he owned the look, made you think all kinds of unholy things. You scolded yourself for how easily the blush crept up your cheeks, painting you crimson in a way only he knew how to. It was ridiculous how just the sight of him made you feel like a teenager again. You’d seen him countless times before, but tonight, bathed in the golden glow of string lights, with the brim of his hat casting shadows over his sharp features, Joel looked every bit the rugged cowboy from your wildest daydreams—strong, untamed, and lighting a fire deep inside you that you couldn’t ignore.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you made your way to the bar, your heart pounding a little faster with each step. Joel hadn’t spotted you yet, his focus seemingly on the drink in his hand, his body leaned casually against the counter as he spoke to the person beside him. The closer you got, the more the nerves started to build. You could practically feel the heat rolling off him. Pretending to study the drink menu hanging above the bar, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at Joel. His dark eyes, shaded beneath the brim of his cowboy hat, flicked up just as you turned your head, catching you mid-scan. His lips curled into that slow, knowing smile that always seemed to unravel you from the inside out, making your heart stutter in response.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” Joel teased, his voice smooth and warm, like honey dripping slow. Before you could even form a response, his arm wrapped around you, pulling you into a hug that was far more intimate than it should’ve been. The faint scent of whiskey on his breath mingled with the earthy tones of his cologne, the combination stirring something deep and unnameable inside you. His chest pressed against yours for a moment that stretched just a bit too long, his hand sliding gently across your back, the warmth of his touch both firm and tender. When he finally pulled away, his smirk—the one that always made your heart stutter—was firmly in place, his eyes twinkling with a kind of mischief that left you breathless.

Joel leaned in just a bit closer, the space between you shrinking as he tilted his head slightly, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Can I get you a drink?” he asked, his voice a smooth, lazy drawl that made the offer feel like the most natural thing in the world, like it was just the two of you, here and now.

You smiled, trying to steady yourself under his gaze. Your eyes flicked to the drink menu for a split second before meeting his again, the weight of his attention making it hard to focus. Biting your lip, you shrugged playfully. "Yeah, but I can't decide."

Joel tipped his head, taking a slow, deliberate sip of his whiskey, his eyes never straying from yours. “Can’t go wrong with whiskey,” he murmured, lifting his glass slightly, his deep drawl wrapping around you like velvet, warm and teasing.

You arched an eyebrow, mirroring his playful tone. “A little strong for me, don’t you think?”

His smile deepened, a hint of challenge flickering in his gaze. “You sure about that?” he asked, his voice dipping lower. “Thought you could handle a little heat.”

A blush crept up your neck, spreading across your cheeks, and suddenly your usual witty responses seemed to vanish. He was being forward tonight—really forward. This wasn’t like his usual stolen glances or the casual brushes of his hand. Joel Miller was flirting with you. And it wasn’t subtle.

“Wanna try?” he asked, his voice dipping lower, rich with mischief. His eyes flickered in a way that left no room for doubt, tracing your lips before he subconsciously licked his own. The gesture was slow, deliberate, and paired with the gleam in his gaze, it sent a shiver straight through you.

You hesitated for a second, but before you could answer, he was already lifting the glass to your lips. The smooth rim of the glass touched your mouth, and as you took a slow sip, your eyes locked with his, the world narrowing to just the two of you. The whiskey burned down your throat, a warmth spreading through your chest, but it was his gaze that made your breath hitch. Your head tilted back slightly as you swallowed, and he watched, his eyes darkening, intense and unwavering.

The moment stretched between you, the tension tightening like a wire pulled taut, neither of you breaking the connection. His gaze followed the movement of your throat, the subtle rise and fall as you drank, and when you lowered your head again, the air around you felt charged, heavy with everything unsaid.

A slow smile tugged at the corner of Joel’s lips, his eyes gleaming with something dangerous and teasing. He leaned in just a fraction, his voice dropping to a low, rough murmur that sent a shiver down your spine. “Good girl,” he drawled, the words soaked in heat, went straight to your core.

Your heart stuttered at the words, heat flooding your cheeks. The intensity in his gaze hadn’t lessened, if anything, it had deepened. He leaned just a fraction closer, the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin, his eyes slightly hooded as they took you in, tracing the curve of your lips and the flush on your cheeks.

You were overwhelmed, every hair on your body standing on end, your thoughts a hazy blur as you tried to figure out if the moment you were sharing with Joel was real or some kind of daydream. Joel had been bolder tonight, more direct, and it was almost too much. The weight of his touch, the intensity of his gaze—it all lingered, leaving your skin flushed and your pulse racing. You needed to break the tension, to say something before you completely lost your grip on reality.

“You know,” you began, a teasing smile curling at the corners of your lips, “I gotta say, you pull off the cowboy look better than I expected.” Your tone was light, playful, but the flutter of nerves in your stomach betrayed the weight of the moment still hanging between you.

Joel chuckled, the sound deep and rough, sending a ripple of warmth through you. His eyes flicked down to his boots and then back up, settling on you with a glint of mischief. “That so?” he drawled, raising an eyebrow as he leaned in just a bit closer, the space between you tightening. “And what exactly were you expectin’, huh? Me in my old t-shirt and worn-out jeans?”

You shrugged, biting your lip, trying to maintain your composure. “Maybe. It’s kinda your signature look, isn’t it?”

“It’s comfortable,” he replied with a casual shrug, his eyes glinting. “But sometimes you gotta switch it up. Thought I’d embrace the theme tonight.” He paused, his gaze lingering on you before flicking up to the top of your head. “Where’s your cowboy attire, anyway?”

You let out a soft laugh, rolling your eyes playfully. “Figured the boots were enough,” you said, glancing down at your feet. Joel's gaze followed, but his eyes didn’t stop there. They trailed slowly up the length of your bare legs, lingering for just a heartbeat longer than necessary before meeting yours again.

Joel clicked his tongue, shaking his head with mock disappointment. “Nah, you’re missin’ somethin’,” he teased, tilting his head slightly, his eyes scanning you with an exaggerated slowness, as if picturing you fully in theme. “Can’t go to a cowboy party without a cowboy hat. Gotta complete the look.”

Before you could respond, someone called his name from across the bar. Joel let out a quiet sigh, turning slightly to see who it was. The reluctance on his face was unmistakable, the easygoing warmth from moments ago fading just a bit as the interruption pulled him away from you. A flicker of disappointment crossed his expression, like he was just as unwilling to let go of the moment as you were.

He turned back to you, his eyes softening once more. “Looks like I gotta take care of somethin’ real quick,” he said, his voice laced with quiet reluctance.

For a brief second, neither of you moved, the air thick with unspoken words. Then, with a decisive nod, Joel reached up, pulling the cowboy hat from his own head. The brim caught the warm light, casting a shadow over his face as he held it in his hands.

“You’re missin’ this,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, rough around the edges in the way that always sent a thrill through you. Before you could even process what he was doing, Joel gently placed the hat on your head, tilting it just right with careful hands. His fingers brushed through your hair as he adjusted it.

You looked up at him, eyes wide, heart pounding in your chest. “Joel…” you started, unsure of what to say, but he wasn’t finished.

“Looks better on you anyway,” he added, his voice softer now, almost a whisper, as if he wasn’t just talking about the hat. His eyes held yours, dark and intense, a quiet promise lingering in the space between you. For a moment, everything around you—the noise, the laughter, the people—faded into the background. It was just the two of you, standing there in the dim light, the air thick with something unspoken.

Joel’s fingers lingered for a second longer, brushing against your cheek, before he pulled away. He gave you one last lingering look, his lips curving into a small, private smile as he stepped back.

“Don’t lose it, now,” he said with a wink, his voice carrying a hint of something playful, though there was a deeper meaning hidden beneath the words.

And just like that, he turned and walked away, his broad shoulders disappearing into the crowd, leaving you standing there with his cowboy hat resting on your head, your heart pounding and your thoughts a jumbled mess of everything that had just passed between you. The warmth of his presence still lingered, even though he was no longer standing beside you, and as you lifted a hand to touch the brim of the hat, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself.

•••

For the rest of the night, you tried to focus on the conversations swirling around you, laughing at the right moments, nodding along when someone spoke. But no matter how hard you tried, your thoughts kept drifting back to Joel. Every sip of the whiskey he’d left for you—a drink too bitter for your liking—became a reminder of him. The taste lingered on your lips, but not as much as the memory of his hands on your waist, the low murmur of his voice, the heat of his gaze.

But what made it impossible to forget was the way he kept finding you, catching your eye from across the room. Every time your gazes locked, it was as though the world around him faded—he'd stop mid-conversation, his attention drawn solely to you, as if no one else existed. His eyes would linger, dark and intense, leaving you breathless and yearning for the moments you had been closer.

His hair, now slightly tousled from where the hat had once sat, made him look even more rugged, and every time he looked at you, it was as though the air between you thickened. The party became a blur, the conversations blending into background noise, because the only thing that mattered was the way Joel would glance at you with that slow, deliberate look that made your heart race. He’d look at you like he was memorizing the sight, like he was already missing the moments when your paths would cross again.

Then, Sarah’s voice rang out, cutting through the hum of conversation and the twang of country music. She stood on a chair, her curls wild under the string lights, hands raised high as she grinned mischievously. “Alright, y’all, before we cut the cake, we’ve got one more thing to do,” she announced, her voice loud and full of excitement. “Who’s ready for the bull?”

With the energy buzzing in the air, Sarah bounded over to the bull. The crowd followed, gathering around as she made a show of adjusting her cowboy boots and tossing her hair over her shoulder with exaggerated flair. You couldn’t help but laugh as she flashed you a quick wink before climbing on. She threw one arm in the air dramatically, gripping the saddle with the other, and the crowd went wild.

The bull jerked to life, and Sarah let out an exaggerated "yee-haw!" that had everyone howling with laughter. She clung to the bull, her curls bouncing wildly as she tried to maintain her balance, her boots slipping in the stirrups. It didn’t take long—maybe ten seconds, if that—before she lost her grip and tumbled off, landing in a pile of giggles on the padded floor.

Amid the cheers and clapping, Sarah stood up, taking a playful bow as she caught her breath, her curls bouncing with the movement. Then, her eyes locked onto yours with a devilish glint. Her smile widened into a mischievous grin, and with one finger pointed directly at you, she shouted, “Your turn!”

You groaned internally, feeling the heat of all eyes on you. For a moment, you seriously contemplated making a break for it, envisioning a swift escape out the back door before anyone could push you toward the beast in front of you.

But before you could act on your plan, two strong hands found your waist from behind, steady and familiar.

“Come on, darlin’. You’re up,” Joel’s deep voice drawled near your ear. His hands were firm but gentle, guiding you toward the bull like you didn’t have a choice in the matter. And truthfully, with him so close, you weren’t sure you wanted one.

The crowd parted as Joel walked with you, his presence commanding as always. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the scent of whiskey and something earthier filling the space between you.

You stood beside the bull, feeling a little ridiculous but mostly nervous. Not because of the bull, but because of Joel—his hand still lingering on your waist, the heat of his fingers burning through the fabric of your dress. He leaned in, his lips dangerously close to your ear, the subtle brush of his chest against your back making your skin tingle with awareness. Joel leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice dropping low—dangerously low.

“Let’s see how well you ride,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear, each syllable laced with suggestion.

The innuendo hit you hard, making your stomach flip, heat pooling low in your belly and rush of blood rushing to your cheeks at the implication in his voice.

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, his hands tightened on your waist. With an effortless lift, Joel had you in the saddle, his strong grip making you feel weightless, completely under his control. The brush of his fingers as they left your hips was like fire, leaving you reeling, breathless, as you adjusted to your seat on the bull.

After Joel lifted you onto the bull, his fingers didn't pull away immediately. Instead, they lingered, resting on your bare thigh where your dress had ridden up just slightly. His rough fingertips began tracing slow, deliberate circles against your skin—small, hidden movements shielded by the way his body subtly blocked the view from anyone else around. It was an intimate touch, just for you, as if he was testing the waters, seeing how far he could push without a word.

His touch, though soft, was firm enough to make you dizzy, each little circle drawing you further into the heat of the moment, making it impossible to think about anything else but him.

Your breath caught, and when you glanced up, his eyes were already locked on yours, dark and intense, like he was daring you to react. His thumb lingered on your thigh for just a heartbeat longer, pressing slightly before he stepped back, leaving you breathless.

The bull’s leather seat was cool beneath you, its surface slightly worn and slick under your palms as you gripped the reins, trying to steady your racing heart.

As you settled onto the bull, you tried to focus on anything but the way Joel’s touch still seemed to burn on your skin.

Before you could prepare yourself, the machine beneath you jerked to life and the crowd around you erupted in cheers and laughter. But it all felt distant, as though you were caught in a bubble, the world slowing down.

You gripped the bull’s rope handle tightly, your knuckles white against the worn leather, trying to steady yourself as it bucked forward. The motion was rough, your body swaying with each unpredictable movement, the muscles in your legs straining to hold on.

Your dress rode up just a bit more with each buck of the bull, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw Joel still watching you, arms crossed, his gaze intense, unwavering. His lips quirked into that signature smirk of his, and it sent a thrill through you, making it even harder to concentrate on staying upright.

The bull bucked harder, throwing you back, and you squealed in surprise, laughter bubbling up in your chest. But even through the laughter, you felt the weight of his stare, the way his eyes traced every movement, every stumble, every sway. Your thighs burned from holding on - But the hardest thing wasn’t the bull—it was resisting the pull of Joel’s gaze, the weight of it still on you.

He hadn't moved an inch, standing just close enough for you to catch glimpses of him between the wild jerks of the bull. His dark eyes locked on you, unwavering, and every time your gaze met his, his lips curled into that slow, lazy grin that made your heart race. It was as if he knew exactly what he was doing to you, how his steady gaze ignited something inside you that made it even harder to concentrate. The thought alone made your stomach flip, a rush of heat flooding through you despite the cool night air.

With a playful grin of your own, you reached up, pulling the cowboy hat from your head and doing what you’d seen in every movie—swinging it in one hand as you tried to ride out the last few bucks. The crowd erupted in cheers and laughter, but all you could focus on was Joel’s reaction, the way his eyes darkened just a little more, that grin of his growing wider as he watched you, completely captivated.

The bull twisted sharply to one side, and your grip faltered. You let out a squeal, laughter bubbling up from your chest, but you could feel yourself slipping. Your body swayed dangerously, your dress hitching up even further, and just as you were about to fall, Joel stepped forward, his eyes flashing with something you couldn’t quite name.

With one final, hard buck, the bull sent you flying off, tumbling onto the padded mat below with a breathless gasp. The crowd erupted into laughter and cheers, but all you could hear was the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears and the sound of Joel’s low chuckle as he stepped closer, offering you his hand.

“You alright there, cowgirl?” he teased, his voice thick with amusement. His hand, strong and warm, wrapped around yours as he helped you to your feet, pulling you up with ease.

You laughed breathlessly, brushing off your dress, trying to regain some sense of composure as your heart raced for an entirely different reason now.

You grinned, still catching your breath from the ride, and before you could think twice, you teased, “I think I need more practice.”

Joel’s eyebrows shot up, clearly taken aback by the lack of subtlety in your voice. For once, you had surprised him. His gaze flickered with something that made your heart skip, but just as quickly, he composed himself, the corner of his mouth twitching into that familiar smirk.

“Well,” he drawled, his voice smooth and low, “maybe I can show you how it’s done sometime.”

Your pulse quickened, a dizzying rush of heat flooding through you at the boldness of his words. It took everything inside of you not to grab him by his flannel and close the distance between you right there and then. The intensity of the moment, the weight of everything unsaid, had your breath catching in your throat. His eyes never left yours, the smoldering desire in them making your heart race as if he was daring you to make the next move.

Before you could respond, Sarah called your name, waving from across the room. You turned, ready to head back to her, but stopped short, suddenly aware of the weight on your head.

Joel’s cowboy hat.

You reached up, ready to hand it back to him.

“Here, you should take this.”

But before you could take it off, Joel’s hand gently stopped you. His thumb brushed over your knuckles.

“Nah,” he murmured, his voice low and rich with meaning.

“Keep it… for our next lesson.”

Your breath hitched at the weight of his words, the promise wrapped in them, and before you could think of something witty to say, Joel gave you one last lingering look, his eyes glinting with something unspoken before he stepped back into the crowd.

As you turned back to Sarah, your heart was still racing, Joel’s hat resting snugly on your head, a promise of something more hanging in the air.

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joelmillerfluff #joelmillerfanfic #joel miller fanfic #Pedro pascal smut #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Joel miller tlou #tlou #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal x reader #tlou part 2 #ellie tlou

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wcnderlnds · 24 days ago

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──★ halloween candy / peter maximoff

halloween / fall drabbles with prompts from here. feel free to request any <3

For some reason you’d agreed to go over to Peter’s place this Halloween to help him hand out candy to the kids while his mom took his little sister out to Trick or Treat. Originally, Peter had wanted to do that but you had to remind him he was in his mid-twenties and people probably wouldn’t appreciate a fully grown adult begging for candy on their doorstep. That had caused a grumble of ‘I could just steal their candy anyway’ from him. As you stepped down the stairs into his basement, the familiar sounds of Pac-Man rang through your ears.

“Whoa,” Peter snickered, glancing behind his shoulder to look at you. This year you’d decided to go for a simple look for Halloween – a Harlequin clown. Black triangles surrounded your eyes, your lips covered in red that extended out into a Joker-esque smile. It wasn’t anything special but you knew Peter would have something to say about it.

“What?” You narrowed your eyes at his back, hands on your hips.

“Nothin’. I just can’t figure out what’s scarier: you with the makeup or without.” As he spoke, he’d zoomed over to you in barely the blink of an eye, lips curling upwards in an amused smile. His head was tilted to the side as he looked at you, twirling a strand of your hair around his finger.

Playfully, you pushed his shoulder. “Asshole.”

That only prolonged his laughter. His laugh always made you feel some type of way. There was just something so beautiful about the man you were crazy about being so happy – even if it was at your expense. Peter never meant anything in a harmful way. It had always been this way between the two of you. The jokes, the laughter, the making fun of each other and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“What’re you supposed to be anyway?”

Quick hands grabbed a pair of devil horns off the coffee table in the middle of his room and placed them on top of his head. “The devil, duh!”

“Peter! That’s barely anything.”

“Ah, but here’s the pièce de résistance.” It took him all of a second to grab his new red leather jacket, pulling it on his shoulders, arms outstretched at his sides as he showed it off. “What’d you think?”

Oh, it was so over for you. He looked damn good in red.

It was half an hour later when the trick or treaters started showing up. Peter had tried to scare most of the kids that had showed up but since he didn’t have a scary bone in his body, he failed every time. Once a couple hours passed, the candy was all gone… or so you thought until you caught Peter pulling out a bar of chocolate from his jacket pocket and shoving it into his mouth.

“Those were for the kids!”

“The kids got enough. It’s my turn. Can’t keep a guy from his candy, babe. It’s criminal.”

“You could at least share.”

“Hell nah. My one rule is I don’t share with clowns,” he sighed dramatically, another chocolate bar grasped in his hand. “Maybe take that makeup off and I’ll consider it.”

“Wanna help me?” You took a step forward, your chest pressing against his. Intentionally, you brushed your lips against his. With his eyes focused on your lips, his free hand came down to cup your cheek but the second he leaned in to kiss you, you snatched the chocolate from his hand and backed off. “Ha, loser.”

“Cruel, babe. Real cruel.”

tag list (ask to be added or removed!): @juliamaximoff @lemoniiiiiii @jazz-berry @xmidnight-rain @honeymoon8 @evanpetersbf

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff imagine #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver #halloween/fall drabbles

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brewed-pangolin · 7 months ago

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MDNI 18+

Gym Rat Soap is so outrageously possessive of you that if he comes home to you pleasuring yourself, he takes it as a personal challenge and will go out of his way to make you come solely for him.

And he's not holding back. He'll pull out all his pleasure tricks (except pulling out. That's a possessive no no.)

He starts with his usual tried and true method of fingering you so good against the wall that your legs turn to numbed jelly within minutes. Holding yourself up against his chest while you moan his name into the fabric of his sweat ladened shirt.

"Tha's it, bonnie. Ya come for me. And only me."

Next is his feast. Tossing you onto the dinner table like a sacrificial lamb and delving immediately between your thighs. Lapping at your folds like a starved and dehydrated animal. Hell bent on consuming you whole for his own pleasured ego while you cry his name to the heavens and writhe in steady overstimulation.

"Oh my God, Johnny!"

"No God 'ere, lass. Only me."

To finally close out his pleasured torture and culminate in his ultimate taking of you, he throws you over his shoulder and stomps his way to the bedroom to begin his pièce de résistance. Your calves hoisted onto his shoulders, his hands griping like a vice into the sides of your torso as he pistons his cock at just right angle, making you see stars and completely losing the capacity for speech and all other thoughts until all you could think of was him. And only him.

"Jo-, Jo-, John-"

"Tha's it. Say my name, bonnie."

"JOHNNY!"

And with a series of roars that would undoubtedly have the neighbors calling to report an escaped lion, he empties himself completely into the silken walls of your cunt. Marking you as his own as his hips falter. His hands grabbing at your limp form as he cradles you against his chest and reassures just how good you are for him. For him. And only him.

Gym Rat Soap Masterlist

#super soap sunday #soap squad™️#gym rat soap #hes definitely my dom soap #hes such a menace #i love him #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #john mactavish #soap mactavish x f!reader #soap mactavish x you #johnny mactavish x f!reader #johnny mactavish x you #soap smut #cod soap smut #cod fanfic #call of duty #cod

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g-xix · 12 days ago

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🔞Mask + Knife Kink | George Clarkey

Summary: You hadn't anticipated that telling George to wear a Halloween costume for your party would have such an effect on you... But with a few drinks and horny thoughts, you were acting on the kinks that you never thought you'd let see the light of day.

CWs: smut, cussing, mask kink, knife kink, mirror sex, degrading + praise, pet names, v rough, blowjob, borderline cnc but not, drinking

Notes: last kinktober post - fittingly a Halloween post on Halloween. Enjoy your trick or treating tonight and enjoy your last kinky October fic x

When you'd told your best friend George to get a Halloween costume for your party, you hadn't expected have felt your heart drop, breathing become shallow and eyes glaze over as you looked across the kitchen island - mounted with red plastic cups and drinks galore - music blending and becoming as unintelligible as the bodies that moved in the background, as your eyes fixated on your best friend. Red cup in his hand with the other tucked into his pocket, black shirt fitted ever so slightly more than you'd seen him wear and matching the dark cargos that hung loosely around his hips, a thick belt wrapped around his hips and embellished with a prop knife, holstered in - he looked inhumanely good, and had you feeling a gentle thrum between your thighs...

Although the pièce de résistance of his outfit wasn't the clothes that fit and stretched around his thick muscles that you'd never looked at in such a way before...

Rather, it was the mask that was strapped around his face.

A ghost mask - hard, white plastic with the curves and contours resembling the timely character Ghostface - the dark black holes about his mouth and eyes covering all facial features of the handsome brunet, focussing your attention instead to the hard, unmoving plastic that faced you - and you could tell that those eyeholes were burning straight into your own eyes.

A few drinks later, you found yourself outside. On the porch that was decked with an outdoor sofa, and George on one of the seats.

A drunken, dopey smile spread over your lips as you stumbled to the sofa, receiving cheers and greetings from the other friends that lounged across the cushioned seats - though you only had one mind and one thought for where you wanted to sit.

George's arm wrapped around your waist, hand planting firmly on your thigh to keep you supported and grounded whilst you were clearly unbalanced - sitting yourself in George's lap and wrapping your arms around the neck, covered with silky black fabric from the ghostface mask, blending into the black of his tee and giving you a lifeless, unmoving face to focus in on with a disorientated smile. Though you couldn't see the eyes of the man behind the mask, you could watch his head move - the mask lowering and indicating that his eyes looked down and scanned over your body - not being at all subtle whilst he took in the fat of your ass and thighs that spilled from beneath the delicately stringed fishnets on your legs which stretched over his lap and across the sofa, all the way up to the cleavage that spilled and showed perfectly to him from this angle, where you looked up at him from his lap - low-cut bodysuit revealing your delicious bust and bunny ears that extended over your hair giving George's other hand something to wrap around.

A wolf whistle was heard from behind you, and you let a giggle pass through your lips, though you didn't turn around, your mind churning and whirring horny thoughts as you couldn't rip your gaze away from that mask.

A horny mind really was your own worst enemy.

"You're so fucking hot with the mask on," Fell from your lips uninhibitedly. "I don't know why I've never seen you this way until now... But you look so fucken hot..."

A laugh was heard from beneath the mask. The sound was as crisp and intelligible as if George wasn't even wearing the mask, and yet the plastic made the soundwave bounce back and had the effect of quietening his voice. So that whilst you heard him perfectly - his noise was insulated and only kept for you and him to hear.

"Thought you might like it." That smirk in the voice was evident. And you loved it. The fact that you couldn't tell or see the emotion behind the mask, so you had to listen to every sarcastic word that fell from the man's lips to try and hear how he felt. Like some temperamental guessing game that could go wrong at any moment. Without caring about the fact he'd be able to feel it, you clenched your thighs to satiate the pressure building between your legs at the flirty talk you could feel building. "I've seen your for you page enough times to know what you have a little kink for..."

A mock gasp fell from your lips, pulling away and looking at your friend with mock offense with a large grin across your face. "I do not have a mask kink-"

"Is that so?" He leaned in, shortening the gap between you two. You couldn't help the embarrassed grin that came as you shook your head, denying what was quite obviously true. George didn't stop, and he spoke with such a low voice, deep and husky that you felt your thighs clenching again. "So if I told you I would take you up to your room and fuck you in this mask right now, you'd say no?"

Your jaw loosened, eyebrows slowly raising in surprise, blinking rapidly to try and focus yourself and make sure that this wasn't some dazed dream in your stupor that you were just imagining.

No. Your best friend really was rocking you in his lap and saying that he'd fuck you. With the mask on. Right here and now.

You couldn't even look into George's eyes and tell whether he was just joking - some sick and twisted flirtatious joke that he was just saying hypothetically... OR whether he seriously meant it. That unmoving mask, emotionless, remorseless, merciless slab of plastic that spoke volumes to your horny subconscious was all you could look into.

And so leaning forwards, you pressed yourself to the mask and lay a delicate kiss on the bridge of his nose - just above the inverted heart of the nasal concha. The ghostface mask tilted to the side as you pulled away, George's hand scaling from your fishnetted thighs to the plump of your ass that spilled from the side of his jeans.

"What's it gonna be then, bunny?" His head was still cocked to the side as his hand tugged against the bunny ears on top of your head, his little petname meant to mock your costume, and yet instead making your heartrate quicken as you were pushed to make a decision. Your best friend who played into your kinks just to wind you up and get a rise out of you, forcing you to tell him whether or not you were gonna cave and tell him to fulfil your libidinous wishes.

You picked the obvious answer.

His arms threaded beneath your body, picking you up effortlessly and letting him take your weight as he carried you through the party and up the stairs the long route - giving everyone a fair look at the host who had fallen trap to the ghostface mask and muscles that carried her to a bedroom.

The moment you reached your bedroom, your hand dived into the bedside table and frantically ran through it, searching for a little foil packet within it which you could use for protection. George stopped your search, however, his hand - worn and roughened with hard spots - firmly grasped as your wrist, his other hand wrapping around the other wrist and pinning them together, grasping them in just one palm as he forced them back and pushed your down into the mattress - pinning your hands above your head and making them sink into the bed under the force with which he pushed you down.

His body then came up on top of yours, not giving you a fraction of breathing space as his chest pressed up to yours, your tits pressing into his muscles with his stomach flat against yours as his masked face was a mere few centimetres away from your own, one hand besides your face supporting him whilst the other held your hands above your head.

"What you doin' there, sweetheart?" George questioned your search in the drawer with a low voice.

"L-looking for a condom," You stuttered under the intense scrutiny, and was only met with a laugh - George's chest rumbling against your own, letting you feel the everything from your close proximity.

"Oh no, I wanna do something with you that doesn't require any of that," George's voice came out so low it was almost a growl - fuelled solely by his own lusts and thoughts which countered yours. "I think I want you to put that smart mouth to use first."

"Well what if I don't want to?" You had the nerve to grin up at the mask and challenge it.

And a laugh fell from your lips as George reached behind him to his belt, pulling out the knife that he'd holstered into the outfit. A "cool accessory", plastic prop that he tried to threaten you with, pressing up to your throat.

"What are you gonna do with that prop," You derided. "Those muscles are big Georgie, but I don't think you could use them to take me out with a plastic kni-"

You were cut off as your strap was sliced through - the "prop" blade cutting through the material effortlessly. Oh.

The tip of his blade was cold, you realised, as it pressed into soft skin beneath your chin after that - applying pressure and forcing you to raise your gaze up to the mask which tilted to the side as you made eye contact. "Not real?" He repeated mockingly. And as you exhaled slowly - shakily - feeling a mix of fear and confusion and adrenaline coursing through your veins, your breath misted over the cold metal.

George didn't need to use his other hand to hold your wrists down, because you were paralysed in shock - unmoving as the masked man removed his hands from around your wrist and pulled the front of the playsuit away from your body, revealing the braless cleavage beneath the material and letting his hands fondle the soft flesh, his fingertips circling the darker skin and peaking your nipples before roughly pinching and tweaking them, making a whimper leave your throat as your thighs wrapped around his legs and clenched around him, pressing his rough jeans into your core that begged for stimulation.

He dipped, allowing himself to press the blade of the knife into your sternum, the cold and sharp edge just blunt enough to apply pressure into your skin without cutting it - making you gasp as he brought it to the other strap of your playsuit, cutting it away from your body and brushing it away so that all you were really in was a pair of fishnets, whilst your ghostfaced friend was still fully clothed and yielding a very active weapon. Though the first part changed as the mask pressed itself back up close to your face, almost making you flinch and try to withdraw a bit as he hissed from behind the mask "Now suck my cock, bitch."

You were unparalyzed in an instant.

His back against your headboard and trousers frenziedly unbuttoned-unzipped and pulled-away with the boxers, you didn't give yourself a moment to even think or pause as your hands flew to his cock, grasping the shaft and pulling it up to your plumpy lips that George had looked at for so long, wondering how they'd feel massaging his cock and dumbing that smart mouth.

And by fuck did you feel amazing.

The mask tipped back, low groan exiting George's lips as his hand threaded through your locks and grasped the back of your head whilst you did absolutely every little thing you could to fit your best friend into your throat. Tears jerked in the corners of your eyes as you reached the bottom of George's cock, his tip blocking your throat and suffocating you for a moment. And George's hand pressed into the back of your head - holding you there and making your eyes widen in shock and horror as you struggled to breathe around the blockage in your throat, George's grip on the back of your head unyielding.

You let out high whines and noises around his length, your palm tapping frantically tapping against the thigh on the right side of your head, hoping George would get the idea that you were trying to tell him "You're choking me, I can't breathe right now!!"...

When George finally let go of your head from the base of his cock with a low groan, you gasped and withdrew with tendrils of spit still connecting your panting mouth and lips to his thoroughly wet length, slowly stretching and detaching, landing cold and wet against your bare tits as you looked up at the mask with a look of both fear and disbelief. "What the fuck was that - I could've suffocated!"

"Sorry sweet, just couldn't help myself-" One of this hands made its way to your cheek, cupping the side and letting his thumb penetrate through your open lips and sit over your tongue. He pushed his thumb down onto the muscle and stopped you from saying anything, giving you no option other than to close your mouth around his digit. "Your mouth just feels too good... I'll try not to be too hard, yeah? You be a good girl and keep going..."

The name brought a blush to rise to your cheeks as you tentatively reached out and let your hand wrap around the base of his cock, noticing how much slicker it now was from your spit. His thumb withdrew from your mouth, patting your cheek and letting you return to his cock, deciding not to take him into your mouth in fear he'd remorselessly choke you again.

Instead, you let your tongue explore his cock - lathering up and down the side and looking up with wide eyes at the unmoving mask. The underside of his cock was defined by a vessel that furiously pumped blood, and caused George to elicit a lewd noise as you traced your tongue over it.

"You keep doing that and I'm gonna cum all over your pretty fucken' face..." George's words came out a low groan as you watched the mask tip down to speak to you before rolling back, your tongue flicking over his bright red tip that ached and begged stimulation - his length twitching in your hands. His words felt so degrading - so diminishing- admitting he'd cum all over your face. The same face you'd spent over an hour decorating with eyeliner and various brushes and pens and glitters earlier. The way those words devalued all of that had the pit of your stomach burning and heart beat synchronising to the feeling between your legs.

"Is that where you wanna finish, Georgie?" You let your hand work on the base of his cock whilst you talked, working painfully slowly to ensure he didn't finish before you wanted him to. "Because I can swallow as well..."

The man laughed. "Oh I'll be inside of you soon enough. I wanna see your face covered by me first.. Get off a sec-"

You took your hands off as George got up from his position - leant back against the headboard - pushing himself up and onto his knees, raising his hips from the backs of his heels as you sat in front of the man with wide eyes looking up to see what he was doing. And as his hand attached to his cock, other one opening your mouth - you stuck your tongue out for him whilst he furiously fisted his cock in his hand, those biceps tensed and whorishly defined, forearms a work of art as his arm pumped to fuck his cock in his hand - every thrust of his hand accompanied by an involuntary jolt of the hips as he got closer and closer to finishing - his silky tip pressing against your tongue with each twitch of his cock that brought him closer and closer to finishing, until-

You closed your eyes, a gasp leaving your throat as you felt something slick and hot spurt onto your face - touching your forehead before coursing down the nasal bone and curve of your eyehole - another spurt landing above your lip and dripping down onto your open tongue as you felt a few more dribbles with less kinetic energy dripping down onto your tongue.

You jaw slowly raised to try and close and swallow the cum that'd landed on your tongue, but George's thumb pressed down onto your lower lip, holding your jaw open a moment longer.

And opening the eye that wasn't squeezed shut to prevent anything slipping into your eye - you were blinded with a flash, causing you to squint your eye before seeing the phone that George held in front of your face - the flashlight shining having taken multiple photos.

A gasp fell from your throat as you realised what he was doing - wiping away the remnants on your face and looking indignantly up at the mask. "You delete that photo right now - I don't want that being sent anywhere to anyone-"

"Or else what?" The mask tilted and his voice came out a taunt, and you hands scavenged the sheets, hoping to find the cold metal of a blade within your grasp as a defense against your best friend-turned psycho. You were unlucky. And the coldness of metal against your thigh told you that. "Looking for something?"

You looked down to the knife between your thighs before looking back up to the mask and gulping.

"Don't you worry, princess," George's hand found your hip, his hand pushing you over and turning you so that you lay with your stomach flat against the bed - looking opposite you and into the mirror to see George with the knife still between his fingers and between your legs - watching and feeling as George used the sharp blade to slice through the fishnets with ease, his hands wrapping around the fine thread, and using the bulk of his muscles to rip the rest of them off. He looked up and caught you staring at him in the mirror, head tilting to the side as he slot himself between your legs - pressing the weight of his body down onto yours whilst his cock landed between your cheeks - still hard despite finishing only moments prior, and slick spit lubricating his motions as he humped and fucked himself between your plump cheeks. You could feel a whimper forming at the back of your throat at the aching between your legs that made you want to beg for George - to just push himself in and stretch you out.

Your gaze had fallen from the mirror - eyes screwed shut and hands bunching up a pile of duvet close to your face for comfort. But George's knife against your throat pulled your gaze up to the mirror, where you saw that the ghostface mask was pressed right besides your face, so that the words that came from behind it were absolutely crystal.

"I won't hold onto this pictures forever sweetheart - I'll delete them... On one condition-" His hand tugged the locks at the back of your hair - lifting you from the mattress as he held your body up and made you hold eye contact with him in the mirror as he pressed his lips to your ear. "Every round you can go, I'll delete another picture. And I'll give you an extra clue - you have five photos to work through..."

THAT'S A WRAP ON GRACIE'S KINKTOBER 2024!!!! I hope you all enjoyed and we ended it with a BIG BANG 🫶👏🎬

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