#which is open on my paper white | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shellshocklove · 2 months ago

Text

moanin' & groanin' | logan howlett

pairing/AU: lumberjack!logan howlett/wolverine x inexperienced!female!reader

summery: working for your father's timber business isn't what you saw yourself doing, but when the wolverine comes looking for work it's suddenly not so bad – especially when he can teach you a thing or two.

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! age gap (in the way that his mutant abilities prolongs his life), swearing, use of pet names, smut, car sex, praise, a little dacryphilia, logan's got a dirty mouth, soft dom!logan, a little size kink (basically logan has a big dick), handjob, fingering, a little manhandling, unprotected sex (don't do it!!), no use of y/n

a/n: um hi! this is my first ever logan fic. i really hope i got him right! not beta read, and barely edited so any mistakes are my own. happy reading! <3

main masterlist / ao3

The pages crinkled under your fingertips as you turned another page. Over the top of your book you could see your father's men milling about, getting the timber ready for another outgoing truck. Day in and day out they worked like flannel-covered ants.

He wasn't here, your father, leaving you to hold down the fort, or office to be precise, as he ran errands. "I'll be back before lunch," he'd told you, a hand passing through the sleeve of his tan Carhartt.

The office felt bigger when he wasn't here, like his neuroticism took up twice as much space as he did himself. You looked around the room. It was small, more like a hut than anything else, raised up on cinderblocks. A tiny kitchen lined the front wall, the refrigerator had given out once this month already and something smelled like it had died in there, the white florescent light under the wall cabinets gave you a headache, and the tap drip drip dripped. The table and the mismatched chairs, your father had found at a fleamarked years ago, before you were born most likely, and they wore the wear and tear of years of use.

Every available surface was covered in papers, and the wooden shelves on the wall dipped in the middle from the weight of the binders. When you were little you'd been afraid the wood would break in two, but they were still standing (hanging?) – maybe they'd stay like that for the rest of eternity for all you knew. Your father's office had only one desk, which made your job as occasional office manager and full-time problem solver, problematic.

Your father would sit in his chair on one side, while you'd steal one of the mismatched chairs and occupy the other end. If you'd had your way, you wouldn't be working here. The timber business interested you just as much as your father was interested in the disco they played on the radio. "If it ain't the king of rock I don't want to hear it," he usually said and switched the channel.

But the town was small, and no one was hiring. The summer after you'd finished high school you'd dreamt of moving to the city, but the money had been tight and your father needed you. At least the work, if your father didn't meddle, was relatively easy: answer the phone, type out the invoices and salaries, keep an eye on logistics, and make sure whatever breaks gets fixed.

The radio hummed at a low volume, one of the singles from Tapestry, as you turned another page of your book. Leaning back in your father's office chair, you glanced at the clock over the door. He should be back by now. Just as the thought crossed your mind, the door swung open.

"Did you need something?" you asked, your book dipping down in your lap.

Logan raised an eyebrow at you as he walked into the office on heavy steps, that damn cigar hanging out the side of his mouth. "Nice to see you too, princess," he poked jokingly, tugging at his gloves, one finger at a time, and tucking them into his leather belt.

He sported the same outfit he usually wore; bootcut jeans, a white t-shirt under his flannel and a thicker wool-lined jacket. He must've been sweating in here with that on.

Autumn had claimed the trees and ground months ago, but this morning the frost had covered the ground and bit at the apples of your cheeks. Your breath had come out in swirling plumes when you'd locked yourself in this morning; the first glints of the sun peeking through the windows as it rose over the mountains. The first thing you'd done was crank the heater, and now as you approached midday, you'd shed your sweater long ago while the windows had fogged with condensation.

The smallest of frowns tugged at your brows, as a heat prickled up your neck to your cheeks. Logan made you a little nervous– not in a bad way, but in a way where your thoughts would wander in his presence, conjuring up scenarios of him and yourself in… comprising positions. Okay, maybe it was in a bad way. But who could blame you when he walked around like that?

He'd arrived only a few months ago, at the tail end of the summer, looking for work. He was strong, stronger than any of the other men working for your father, and although the work was hard, it seemed like he never tired. You didn't know much about him and he kept mostly to himself, hidden away in a cabin up in the mountain, but sometimes you'd see him down at the local bar, nursing a glass of whiskey in one hand and a lit cigar in the other. More than once you'd seen him chatting up Kayla Silverfox, and more than once you'd wished it was you in her place.

"Oof," Logan groaned as he opened the fridge, grabbing his packed lunch and closing it as fast as he could. You appreciated him for that; whatever had died in there should stay in there.

"Yeah," you said, "I'm not cleaning that again, not even for a million bucks."

"Can't blame ya."

He looked to the table for a second where the guys usually ate their lunches, before he decided to take your usual chair at your father's desk. As he sat down, you pushed the ash tray to his side of the desk, earning you a short smile in thanks as he rested his cigar. It wasn't unusual for him to talk to you on his breaks.

So, why did you heart beat so fast in your chest?

Because it was the first time you'd been alone.

"So, where's your old man?" he asked and bit into the sandwich he'd packed in an old newspaper.

"Running errands– he should be back soon…" you trailed off.

Logan hummed non-committedly. "So, you're in here sittin' pretty readin' your book while we're out in the cold slavin' away– maybe I should become the boss' daughter."

"Well, it's not easy," you sighed, feigning confidence, "and you gotta be pretty first of all," you front teeth dug into your bottom lip as you tried to hide your nervousness.

"That's true," he grinned, "I ain't got nothin' on you, princess."

Logan held your gaze with intent, and it was like something in the air shifted. It happened sometimes with Logan, like he had this power beaming from him that sucked you in. Erratic wings fluttered in your stomach, and you had to drop your gaze.

"So, how's the book?" he asked, taking another bite of his sandwich.

"Eh," you shrugged, dog-earing the page your were on, before throwing the beat-up paperback on the table. "Too many plot twists– first they're on earth, then there's this virus spreading– so they have to move all of humanity to the moon, but then there's this species that lives under the surface of the moon who they start a war with, but one of the main characters are in love with a moonie– that's what they call them– so, now they're in love and trying to stop the war and…" you shrugged again.

Logan chewed slowly as he nodded his head. "Sounds complicated," he decided, making you let out a small laugh.

"I guess so."

A grin washed over Logan's face at your small laugh, and you felt his gaze roll over you, over your exposed skin. When he looked at you like that, like a predator drooling for a meal, you felt a small damp spot stick to your panties. You watched as his nostrils widened, his jaw clenching shut as a pulsing vein protruded from his neck.

"So, science fiction," he started, clearing his throat, "Didn't know you liked that," he continued between the last bites of his sandwich

"Some kid at the library recommended it," you shrugged, "so I thought I'd try it out. And it's not like it's that far from the truth�� we've got mutants."

Logan crumbled the newspaper hard and quick, the sharp sound making you jump. "Yeah," he said, and stood to his feet, "That's true."

He grabbed his burnt out cigar, and threw the ball of newspaper in the trash. You started to wonder if you'd said something wrong, but then he said, "Your father's back," and not even a second later you could see your dad's old truck pull up outside the window.

How did he even know that?

"Logan– wait," the words just fell out of your mouth before you could even think them through. He hovered by the door, raising a questioning eyebrow at you.

You could be brave– Just say it!

"Come by later would you? Before you leave for the day– I have something for you."

A gush of cold air blew in with the arrival of your father. He almost crashed right into Logan on his way out, nearly knocking him down the wooden steps. You thought you could glimpse a small nod from Logan, but he was out the door so fast you couldn't be sure.

The rest of the day went by slowly as a growing anxiety gnawed at your neck. With your dad back you slipped out to borrow the car, driving into town to pick up some lunch at the local diner. It was routine at this point, something you did without thinking, but today your thoughts couldn't stay still. You were pulling up outside the office when you realized you'd driven the whole way with the radio off.

What was even your plan?

You wished you were better at this. You could pretend, sure, put on a brave face to hide the nerves from surfacing, but how do you get a man like that to go for a girl like you?

You felt non the wiser when the sun had dipped below the mountains and he finally knocked on the office door. Your dad had left thirty-minutes earlier, stranding you at work with no way to get home.

If this didn't go well, you didn't look forward to walking home.

"What 's it you wanted, princess," Logan asked, leaning against the frame of the door with one knee popped. Your eyes couldn't help but run down the length of him – his broad shoulders, the bulge hidden below his big belt buckle, and the veins of his exposed arms as he slung his jacket over his shoulder.

"Oh, um," you tried to shake your thoughts, and you rummaged the desk for the envelope. "Here," you said as you found it, stretching your hand out for him to take it.

He pushed off the door frame with a raised eyebrow, the cold air from the open door taking with it the warmth of the office. "What's this?" he questioned, taking the envelope from your hand.

"It's your check– for this month's work," you explained.

His raised eyebrow pulled into a frown, "This is a week early," he questioned, "and I usually get these sent in the mail."

"Oh, I-I just thought I'd give it to you personally this time," you lied, fitting a shrug at the end for good measure, trying to sell how completely normal and nonchalant you were.

Logan raised a skeptic eyebrow at you, and you suddenly felt really really stupid. In your chest your heart could compete with a hummingbird's.

"Really?" he said with a smile before he dropped his chin, "Can I appreciate a little extra something in here, or…?" he trailed off, waving the envelope.

Letting out a shaky inaudible breath, you tried in your flirtiest voice, "Maybe if you give me a ride home…"

...................

The lights from the town below looked like stars scattered over the night sky, the yellow light of the roads connected them like on a string. You knew that Logan knew where you lived; the town was small, and even with the short time he'd spent here, it wasn't hard to get familiar. He'd stopped at the lookout point, about half-way up the mountain road. It was nice in the daytime, with a nice view of the town, the mountain and rivers, but at night it attracted a different kind of crowd: lovers. It was cheesy, and cliché, but clichés were clichés for a reason.

The Led Zeppelin tape whirled, and the music stopped.

Suddenly you felt nervous, fingers picking at a loose tread on your sweater. Logan leaned forward to flip the cassette, and his truck filled with a sound of organ, like you were back in church. When he leaned back he slung his arm over your seat. You watched how he spread his legs, getting comfortable, as his eyes found your face.

Under the wool, your heart picked up its beat.

In a brave move you shifted closer, the leather seat moaning under you, as a pleased smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. His big palm snaked around your shoulder, curling you closer to him until his lips caught your own. You only hesitated for a second before your hand found his neck, where your fingers tugged lightly at the hair at the nape of his neck.

A low growl huffed against your lips, and he deepened the kiss, pressing himself roughly against you as he licked into your mouth. You couldn't help the small whimper escaping you. His touch was rough, almost impatient, but tender all at the same time, and you felt yourself fall apart.

The air stuck to your skin, clammy and sticky with arousal and now you started to get impatient. With a loud smack you broke apart, your lips raw and spent from use as you caught your breath. A rough hand cupped your cheek, the pad of his thumb skated gently over your skin as he tilted your head towards him.

"Such a pretty little thing," he mused. His eyes had gone dark, pupils huge and filled with lust; yours must've looked about the same as they rolled down his body. He shifted closer to you, pushing you closer to the door, and you got a better view of the bulge hidden behind his jeans.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, clogging up the sounds around you like you were underwater, pushing at your thoughts at the back of your mind. Logan moved with such ease, each touch natural and easy, like he'd done them a thousand times. Not like you, with only your short-lived high school boyfriend under your belt.

"Hey," he shook your head gently, "Where you goin', bub?"

"I'm sorry," you whispered, a heat coating the apples of your cheeks.

He shook his head, his face surprisingly tender for someone so rough, "Tell me, baby."

"I'm just…" you trailed of, trying to find your words, "I'm a little nervous– I haven't done this much," you said, avoiding his gaze.

"That's sweet, bub." The pad of his thumb rubbed the pet name into your skin as he leaned forward to catch your lips in a soft kiss, "But I wouldn't worry that pretty little head of yours 'bout it."

His breath was hot against your own, and an ache started to spread between your legs. The hand on your cheek travelled downwards to tug at your jacket, and you parted only for a second to rid yourself of it, but before you could lock your lips with his again he grabbed at your hands.

"I'll teach ya," he told you and guided your hands to his broad form.

He let you touch him as he shucked off his jacket, your fingers dancing over the soft flannel. He was solid beneath your fingers, hard muscles from hard work. A patch of dark hair curled at his chest, peeking out beneath his white shirt, and you found yourself wondering where it lead.

Curling his hand around your wrist, he guided your hand lower; down over his chest where you could feel the solid form of him. His bronze belt buckle burned you like ice, but the heat of him as he pressed your hand to the hard bulge beneath the buckle burned even brighter.

"You feel that?" He looked you straight in the eyes. He pressed your hand down harder and you could feel the shape of him against your hand, hard and thick, and big. You barely managed a nod through the wave of heat coating your cheeks.

"That's because of you, princess." His voice was low, almost like a growl, as he started to guide your hand to rub over the thick length.

"Me?" you questioned, breathless.

"Yes, you," he chuckled, a heavy hand petting at your head. "D'you want to take it out? Stroke it f'me?"

"Please," you begged, looking at him with moony eyes through your lashes.

"So polite f'me," he mused, his hands tugging at his belt before he popped the button on his jeans. Slipping off your shoes, you crawled up into the seat, sitting back on your knees as you watched him pull at his jeans. Peeking out from under the denim, you could see a dark patch of hair.

Logan was in no rush, revealing only an inch at a time of the base of his cock, making a show of it as the tension rose. A wave of tickling arousal washed over you, and it made you brave, reaching a trembling hand forward, you helped him tug at the fabric.

At last his cock sprung free.

You felt your eyes widen at the sight, as you involuntarily squeezed your thighs together. Even with your limited experience, you knew he was bigger than most. The thick length of his cock bobbed from the weight, hanging heavy between his legs. At the tip of his fat head, a drop of precum pearled, almost invisible in the dark truck.

"Come here, bub." He widened his legs as he reached out a strong arm for you, curling you into his shoulder.

"Put your hand on it," he ordered, "like this," he grabbed at your wrist and guided you hand towards his mouth. You let him move you around, eyes blown out and wide as you couldn't take your eyes off his impressive cock.

A wet blob of spit pulled you from your thoughts, it drew the slightest frown over your face until he guided your palm, now coated in his spit, to his cock.

Under your palm his skin was silky soft, but hard and firm at the same time. You found yourself mesmerized at the sight of your hand around him as you familiarized yourself with the heaviness of him in your hand.

"There ya go–" he cut himself off with a groan as you formed a fist around the head of him. Your fingers struggled to reach around him, but it didn't seem like Logan minded much when you moved downwards smearing his spit over his shaft in an experimental tug.

"That's it, good girl, just like that."

A warmth bloomed in your chest at the praise, wrapping itself around your heart. You wanted him to say it again– to be good for him. So, you reached forward with your other hand, wrapping it around the base as the other formed a fist around the head. Another pearl of precum beaded at the tip, and you took the opportunity to skate your thumb over it, massaging it into his spit.

A growl seemed to get caught in Logan's throat, and still riding off your high that the praise had sown in you, you started to pump his cock in slow strokes. A slick sound escaped under your fists with each stroke, and you watched how his head fell back in pleasure.

"Am-am I doing it right?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

At the sound of your voice, Logan sat up straighter, a heavy hand falling over your back to pull you closer. "You're a natural, princess."

You couldn't contain the smile from coating your lips as he brought you in for another searing kiss. It was hot, and suffocating, and all-consuming, all at the same time. It clouded your mind, and you forgot what your hands were supposed to be doing.

Logan's hand travelled down your body, his big palm grabbing at your ass. "Take of your pants," he ordered against your lips, "Panties too," underlining his order with a couple of light slaps to the flesh.

Shuffling out of his hold, you fingered at the button of your pants, pulling at them and your panties as quickly as you could. Goosebumps prickled over your exposed skin, the air suddenly frosty without Logan's touch – but that didn't last long.

The calloused pads of his fingers trailed up your thighs, pressing down into the flesh as he pulled you closer to him. "Come sit in my lap, princess."

He didn't wait for you to move, instead he manhandled you how he wanted. Spreading his legs wide apart he fit you between his legs, your back pressed against his hot chest with his hard and leaking cock caged against your ass.

"I'm gonna touch you now, baby, okay?" his deep voice whispered in your ear.

"Okay," you peeped, heart pounding in your ears at this new proximity.

He spread your legs, putting your wet and neglected cunt on display, hooking them over his knees. When his palms danced over your inner thighs, you felt yourself sink deeper into his chest, deeper into the safe scent of pine and man.

"Need to get you ready f'me, bub– stretch this tight cunt out for my big cock," he cooed.

You ached for him, a sticky wet feeling between your legs as you wished so badly for him to finally touch you. His touch was light, but teasing, drawing circles along the thin flesh, circling closer and closer to where you needed his touch the most, before he pulled away.

"Please," you whined, grabbing at his arm.

His breath felt hot against your neck, and you could feel the grin he pressed against your skin. He let you guide him upwards to hover his large palm over your mound, but he wouldn't let you have it. Instead, he pushed at your sweater. His hand spread across the skin beneath your belly button as prickled goosebumps followed the rough pads as they ran across your skin.

"Y'gonna feel me right here, bub?" he teased, "So deep inside your tummy?"

A whine caught in your throat and you felt like an exposed nerve. Arousal pulsated throughout your body, threatening to pull you apart unless he did something soon. Your neglected cunt dripped with an ache only he could sooth.

"Yes, please, Logan," you whined, tears threatening to spill.

His thick beard scraped against your cheek, and you almost trembled from anticipation as he slid his hands downwards. He raked his fingers through the curls of your mound, and a gasp fell from your lips when he finally pushed at your clit.

A wide smile reached across your face when he started to circle his fingers, tight with the perfect amount of pressure. Your hips bucked to meet his touch, your cunt eager and dripping for more of him. His other arm clasped around your middle, keeping your still and steady in his lap as he had his way with you.

A bold finger dipped lower, running through your folds and teasing at you entrance. A slick sound filled the car as he played with your cunt, circling his fingers around your hole, dipping a teasing finger inside you just to the first knuckle, before withdrawing it just as quickly.

"Such a messy pussy," Logan murmured in your ear, the deep bass of his voice vibrating into your skin. "Listen."

The sound as he played with your pussy was obscene, lewd, and so dirty you felt a heat crawl up your chest. A breathy gasp escaped you when he finally split you on his finger, and a satisfied smile coated your lips as he started to move it inside in a steady rhythm, prodding every so often at that spongy spot inside, the spot your own finger couldn't reach.

"F-feels s-so good," you managed to stutter out.

The heel of his palm pressed against your clit with every thrust, teasing at your insides and conjuring moan after breathy moan from your lips. He guided you closer and closer to the edge, and you wanted so badly to fall. When he pulled out to slide another finger inside you, you felt a tear roll down your cheek with satisfaction.

"I can feel that pussy clenching me– you close, bub?" he poked, never stopping his fingers.

Your head rolled back, resting heavy on his shoulder as you nodded franticly, mouth parted slightly, humming out small breathy whines. You were so close, the tension in your stomach twisting and aching for release.

But then he pulled his fingers, dragging them up over your mound leaving a wet trail in your curls. You couldn't help the disappointed sigh as more tears pressed their way down your cheeks.

"Shh," he hushed you, "you're okay, bub."

Under you, you felt him move, his strong muscles flexing as he shifted you on his lap. When you felt the blunt head of his cock slide between your folds, an eagerness came upon you. You grinded against him, making a small chuckle rumble from his chest. Logan slapped his heavy cock against your folds, coating his big cock in your slick arousal.

The first stretch of him knocked the breath right out of you, the fat tip of him splitting you in half as he helped you guide yourself down on him. You had to remember to breathe, your hand fumbling for something to hold on to.

"Fuck," you whimpered, eyes wide, "I-it's so big– it's t-too big."

His hand wrapped around your middle held you in place, keeping you still on his cock as you adjusted to the first inches of him inside you.

"It's not too big, princess, you're doing so well f'me," he praised, "just a little more, bub– you can do it."

With a wet whimper you lowered yourself, taking a couple more inches of him, as Logan pressed more fluttering praise into your skin. He let you take your time, easing yourself down on him at your own pace. When your thighs were finally flushed with his, he was so deep inside you, you jolted, trying to move back up, but Logan's hands held you down. You felt him in your tummy, like he'd said, his cock reaching so deep you were shaking.

"Sit still, get used to it," he told you, as you tried to catch your breath, "You're being so good f'me."

And somehow the burning stretch of him soothed away into a pleasurable pressure, one you couldn't help but chase. With an experimental rock of your hips, you felt the fat head of him prod at your spot, making you mewl. And when you started to swivel your hips, Logan groaned in satisfaction, meeting your movement with small thrusts.

Slowly, he picked up his rhythm, strong hands shifted to dig into your hips, holding you in place for him to move you as he wished. In your ear, you heard him growl, deep and animalistic as he fucked up into you.

It didn't take long until your breath came out fast between moans as the pressure built, and built, and built.

"Logan," you moaned, tethering right on the edge.

Another growl escaped his chest, as his strong arms hooked under your legs. He pressed them tightly to your body as he picked up his pace, bucking wildly into your eager cunt. You could feel him throb inside of you, and you couldn't help but clench at the thought of feeling him spill inside you, claiming you.

"Don't stop, please, don't stop," you begged, tears streaming down your face like two winding rivers, "I-I'm gonna come."

A hand slid between your legs to rub at your puffy clit, coaxing you closer and closer with winding circles.

"Come on my cock, baby, come all over that big cock."

It was hot, and blinding. Euphoric shocks pulsed through your body, as you fluttered and gushed around his cock. Logan's grip on your legs tightened as you shook violently with your orgasm – a million stars exploded behind your eyes.

"Oh, that's it, bub, such a good girl," he praised between heavy wet pants against your ear.

Fucking you through your ecstasy, Logan chased his own high at a relentless pace, and all you could do was take it, reduced to a ragdoll in his hands. In your ear he muttered nonsense interlaced with praise, telling you how good you felt, and how perfect you were for him.

With a deep groan he pulled out quickly, tugging at himself until he spilled his thick spend on the truck floor. With bleary eyes you watched how it pumped in quick spurts, dripping down his hand and soiled the knuckles in his own sticky cum.

Behind you, Logan breathed hard, nudging his nose against the column of your neck to press soft kisses to the hot skin.

A pair of bright headlights beamed down the road, pulling you from the moment with its blinding light. Logan helped you shift off his lap, reaching to hand you your discarded clothes before he tucked himself back into his jeans.

The cassette whirled in the car radio, and you couldn't remember when the music had stopped. Logan shifted back behind the wheel and an eerie silence grew in the distance between you.

"How 'bout I take you somewhere to eat?" he posed.

You smiled, "I could eat."

...................

hopefully this was okay? a comment telling me your favorite part is always welcome, and my ask box is always open to chat <3 and thank you for reading!!

#logan howlett #logan james howlett #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #james logan howlett x reader #x-men fanfiction #lumberjack!logan #hugh jackman #*writing #wolverine smut #logan howlett smut

3K notes · View notes

imaginedisish · 2 months ago

Text

Dare (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Hey guys. Just wanted to say thank you for all the support I got this morning. All of your comments really warmed my heart. Thank you so, so, so much. I ended up getting this done pretty fast. Went with "Dare" by Gorillaz for the title. Made me feel better to write. I like this one. Hope you do, too. Enjoy!

Summary: Logan finds out you've never been eaten out while playing a game of "Truth or Dare," and he's more than willing to change that.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT!!! Oral (f!receiving), Fingering, softdom!Logan, pussydrunk!Logan (he does not let up, he is starving for you), older!Logan, implied aged gap (reader is in her 20s/old enough to teach at the institute), cocky!Logan, he is an absolute service dom in this, friends to lovers, mentions of mental health/self worth, fluff, some hurt to comfort, some angst, afab/fem!reader, cursing, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 4,235 wowza didn't expect that and oh my god this gif

You’re lying on your floor—the door to your room wide open. Everyone is out anyway. It’s Friday night at the mansion—no one will see you like this. Students’ papers are scattered around you. You stare up at the ceiling, feeling choked up. It had been a bad day—a bad week. Maybe even a bad year. You feel like you’re slipping, losing yourself.

Teaching the older students had become beyond challenging—possibly because you aren’t much older than them in the first place. Most days, it felt like everyone expected greatness from you, given the strength of your powers, which naturally comes with responsibility, and that can be incredibly overwhelming. It had all been—if you were being brutally honest—an absolutely terrible time.

So, you’re lying on your floor, feeling numb. You stopped grading papers at least an hour ago, and simply decided to stare at the ceiling, your head spinning. You wanted to calm the noise, to take a breather. Luckily, you’re alone—everyone is on a mission or out given that it’s Friday night.

Or so you thought.

“What on Earth are you doing?” A familiar voice cuts through the silence like a knife, jarring you, and forcing you to look up. And there he is, in a white t-shirt and denim jeans, arms crossed tightly against his chest, leaning in the doorway. Logan. You want to roll your eyes at how good he looks. You want to slap yourself for thinking it in the first place.

He smirks at you, his brows furrowed playfully. You let your head fall back to the floor. “Grading papers,” you mutter. You can hear his footsteps as he walks into the room, drawing closer to you.

“Doesn’t look like you’re grading papers to me,” he teases. You can hear the smile in his voice. “Why aren’t you out with Jean or Rogue?”

He stands next to you, and you look up at him. “Didn’t feel like it,” you mumble, forcing yourself to sit up. You draw your knees into your chest. You decide to turn the question around on him. “Why aren’t you out?”

He sits down next to you, stretching his long legs in front of him, his shoulder bumping against yours as he settles in. He shrugs. “Somebody’s gotta keep an eye on you, right?” He jokes, nudging his elbow into your arm. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. It’s impossible to fight it when he’s next to you. Your eyes meet his, and his smile quickly turns into something else—concern. “You’ve been off lately.”

You swallow harshly. “Did Jean or Rogue say something?” You ask. They’d notice, maybe they told Logan. “Did they ask you to stay with me or something?”

But Logan shakes his head. “No. I could just tell,” he says, worry clear in his voice. “Thought I’d hang back with you. All my idea.” He tilts his head, his jaw working, his brows furrowing again. “Is something going on?”

You take a deep breath, turning away from him. You’re suddenly overwhelmed by his presence, by his kindness and his care. He stayed home for you. “I’m okay,” you mutter, avoiding the truth.

“Hey,” Logan whispers, tentatively reaching his hand to your knee, waiting for you to shove him away. His palm is warm against your skin, calming and stabilizing. You turn back to look at him, his brows raised incredulously. “I know that’s not true,” he says. He has always been able to read you like a book. “What’s going on?”

You swallow harshly. “I’ve just been having a tough time lately,” you say, distracted by the way his thumb brushes across your knee. “I…” You trail off, letting your eyes fall closed. “Things are hard.”

“You can talk about it if you want,” he says, his voice deep and steady. “I’m here.”

You sniffle, struggling to keep yourself in check. “I just…” you pause, looking off to the side. “Everything sucks.” You take another deep breath. “And the students are so hard.” You point to the piles of papers scattered around your floor. “And then there’s me, and all my shit. My powers. The responsibilities we have. I’m young, and I’m still learning. And fuck, Logan, this all just feels so impossible sometimes. It…it…” You trail off, finally running out of words, out of steam.

“It hurts.” He finishes your sentence, taking the words right out of your mouth. You turn back towards him, your eyes instantly meeting his. “It hurts a lot.”

You nod. “Yeah, exactly.” He squeezes your knee comfortingly. “You get it,” you murmur.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he soothes, his hand lifting off your knee, his arm wrapping around your shoulder instead. “I’ve got you.” You let yourself lean into his touch, resting your head in the crook of his neck. “Let’s take your mind off things, yeah?”

You nod against him, not wanting to move away, not wanting to separate from him. He feels so nice, so solid. “What did you have in mind?” You ask, hoping it doesn’t involve getting up.

“Wanna play a game?” He offers, turning his head to look down at you. You smile widely, almost mockingly. “What?” He chides. “You think I don’t know how to have fun?”

You laugh softly. “I just don’t see you as a game guy, Lo,” you confess. He chuckles, and you can feel his laughter reverberating through his chest. “Can you even think of one to play?”

Logan’s still laughing, shaking his head. “What about truth or dare?” He ever so slightly pulls you in closer, his lips pressed against the side of your head.

You giggle, feeling light for the first time in a long time. “Are we in seventh grade?” You ask teasingly. You felt like a teenager, honestly—being next to Logan always made you feel like a love-sick schoolgirl. But you know you and him could never be. You were younger than Logan—everyone was—but you, being in your 20s, assume that Logan doesn’t see you the way you see him.

He just shakes his head and laughs, pulling you back to reality. “Truth or dare?” He asks, ignoring your middle school comment and officially starting the game.

You don’t want to get up, don’t want to move an inch, so you answer: “Truth,” hoping it isn’t anything too crazy.

Logan thinks for a second, his head resting on yours. “Why’d you pick truth instead of dare?” He finally asks.

You roll your eyes. “Boring!” You tease. “I only picked it because I don’t feel like moving.” And then you realize…perhaps your answer is more revealing than you previously considered. Your heart thunders in your chest.

Logan hums. “And why don’t you want to move, exactly?” He’s onto you.

“You asked your question, you got an answer,” you protest, trying to shut him down. “No follow-up questions.” It’s your turn now. “Truth or dare?” You ask.

“Truth,” he says. “Because maybe I don’t feel like moving either.”

You smile, and you can feel him looking down at you. You’re too nervous to meet his gaze. You think for a moment, racking your brain for a question. “Did you really stay home for me, and was it all your own idea?” You finally ask. You regret the question almost immediately, fearful of the honest answer.

“Yes,” he responds without a beat. “Jean said you were staying in, and said she didn’t know why, so I stayed too.” He pauses, and you can hear his steady breathing amidst the silence. “I was worried, princess.” The pet name burns a hole through your heart. “Needed to know that you were okay.”

You can feel tears building behind your sinuses. “Thank you, Lo,” you whisper. “That means a lot.”

He presses the ghost of a kiss to the crown of your head—almost not quite there. But you can feel it, hesitant and tentative. “It’s nothing, no need to thank me.” You finally find the courage to look up at him and find him smiling down at you. His lips part. “Truth or dare?” He asks again.

You can feel some sort of tension brewing, building, thick and heavy. You try to ignore it, try to brush it off. Your heart hammers in your chest. “Truth,” you pick again. “But get a little more creative this time.”

He pauses, the gears in his head turning. And then finally: “Why’s your heart beating so fast? It’s loud, too.”

Your eyes widen, suddenly remembering Logan’s heightened senses. He can hear everything. “Uh…” You trail off, not sure how to get out of this. “I-It’s not…”

He laughs. “You’re a terrible liar. You know that?” His voice is deep and honeyed, smooth. “You gotta answer the question, or I get to ask another.”

“Those are not the rules!” You protest, lifting your head to look at him. He’s got that shit-eating grin on his face, the one that makes your stomach drop.

He tugs you into his chest again, his lips at the shell of your ear. “Then answer the question,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin, sending a chill down your spine. He’s so close. Too close. Your heart is only beating faster, louder now.

“I don’t know,” you whisper. But of course, you know. It’s all because of him. “Just anxious, I guess.” It’s a half-truth—you’re certainly nervous, but you can’t bring yourself to tell him why.

“No need to be nervous, sweetheart,” Logan coos, his thumb brushing circles into your shoulder. “It’s just me.”

Yes, exactly, you want to say. It’s you. But you don’t. You try to steady your breathing, try to calm down. “My turn,” you force yourself to say. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” he says darkly. “And make it good.” You can hear the cockiness in his voice—a sudden shift in his tone.

“We should just call this truth or truth,” you say, mulling over a question in your mind. It’s hard to think with him this close—hard to breathe. You want to rile him up, to find out what makes him tick—to make him itch the way he makes you. And then it hits you: the perfect question. “When was the last time you…” You stop yourself, suddenly too nervous to ask.

“When was the last time I what, darlin’?” He asks, cocking his head to the side, raising his eyebrows.

You huff. You’ve fallen into your own trap. There’s no backing out now. “When was the last time…” You pause again, biting your lip. You close your eyes. “…somebody got you off?”

“Been a while,” he says simply. Your eyes flutter open, and Logan is completely relaxed, his eyes trained on you. He isn’t annoyed. He’s unbothered, unprovoked, as if you had asked him what the weather was going to be like tomorrow. “But it depends on how you mean. So, what do you mean?” He finishes.

You’re slightly frustrated by how easy it was for him to answer. “I don’t know,” you mutter, shrugging your shoulders. “Whatever the last time was.”

“Few years back, not particularly proud of it,” he huffs. “Girl took care of me in a bar. That was it.”

You nod. “Must’ve been nice,” you whisper, suddenly feeling a bit disheartened. You catch his drift; you know it didn’t mean anything. You likely didn’t know Logan at that time, having only arrived at the Institute two years ago. You know you shouldn’t feel jealous, shouldn’t care that he was ever with someone else, even for a fleeting moment. You’ve had boyfriends. You’ve been with other people.

“It was fine. Just a blowjob.” He says it nonchalantly. “Didn’t mean a thing.” You look straight ahead, waiting for him to elaborate. But he doesn’t. “Truth or dare?” He finally asks.

“Truth.” Your fake, plastered-on smile becomes real when his eyes meet yours. It’s just what happens when you look at him. “And make it interesting.”

The corner of his mouth turns up slyly, and you know he has something up his sleeve. “When was the last time somebody did that to you?” He asks.

You cock your head to the side. “What do you mean?” But you already know exactly what he’s asking. And you desperately do not want to give him the answer.

“Got you off, like that,” he husks. “With their mouth.”

Fuck. “Uh…” You trail off. You can feel heat spreading across your chest and up your neck, your skin prickling. “Never,” you say honestly.

“What?” Logan’s voice cuts through the tension like a knife. “Never?”

You’re suddenly embarrassed. Your skin feels tight—so do your shorts and tank top. “Never,” you repeat, looking down at your knees, still pulled in tightly to your chest. Your heart beats rapidly. “Just hasn’t happened yet,” you choke out. “I’ve been with people, but…”

“Hey,” he whispers, suddenly grabbing your chin and angling you up to face him. “It’s okay,” he soothes. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, princess.”

You smile shyly, reveling in his touch. “You didn’t,” you insist honestly. “Just a little embarrassed.”

Logan shakes his head, his eyes softening. “Nothing to be embarrassed about,” he assures. “You deserve to be taken care of.” His hand slides across your jaw and cups the back of your neck. “Deserve to feel good.”

Your eyes flutter closed at his touch. “Lo,” you whisper, struggling to keep your composure. Heat pools between your thighs. “Tr-truth or dare.”

His forehead presses to yours. “I think we’re done with the game, pretty girl,” he rasps, the arm around your shoulder slipping down to your waist. “Unless I get to give you a dare this time.”

“What’s the dare?” You ask, your eyes fluttering back open. His lips are so close. Your noses touch softly.

He works his jaw, licking his lips. “Let me eat you out, pretty girl,” he pants, his chest heaving against yours. “Let me take care of you like you should’ve been already.” He hates the idea that you’ve never been touched properly, the idea that those younger guys didn’t know how to treat you right. But he can fix that. He can make you feel good.

“Fuck,” you curse, his breath fanning across your lips. “A-are you sure?” You ask. “I don’t want you to do it just because you feel bad for me or—” “You think that’s what this is about?” He cuts you off, pulling you closer so that your body faces his, your thighs slotting together like puzzle pieces. “You think I want this just because I feel bad for you?”

“Well…” You search his eyes. “Yes,” you say.

Logan’s face falls, and he shakes his head. “I want you, pretty girl,” he pants, his knee rubbing against your aching core. “Wanted you this whole time.” His palm presses firmly against your back, his other hand gripping your neck tighter. He wants, no, needs you closer. “You ruined me the second I saw you. Haven’t been with anyone since then.”

“Logan,” you whisper, bringing your hands up to his neck. “I want you too. Always have,” you confess.

He smiles, his lips pressing a chaste kiss to yours. “Then let me do this for you,” he rasps, almost begging, like he needs this more than you do. “Need to make you feel good, beautiful.” “Please,” you breathe. “Want you so bad, Lo.”

He curses under his breath, his lips capturing yours, harder this time. This kiss is starving, all-consuming. His tongue swipes across your lower lip, and you open your mouth, inviting him inside. He lowers you down carefully, sure not to break the kiss, guiding your back to the wood floor below.

His thighs rest on either side of your hips as he hovers over you, bracing himself with his forearm. His free hand trails up your body, exploring your curves, hiking your shirt above your breasts. He smirks against your lips at the realization that you have no bra on.

“Look at you,” he mumbles, rolling a nipple under his thumb, palming your breast. “Fucking perfect.” His fingertips drag to the other side, massaging you gently, taking your nipple between his thumb and forefinger and pinching softly. “Can smell you, you know,” he grunts. “Know you’re soaking for me, darlin’.”

His hand slides between the valley of your breasts, trailing down your stomach, until his fingertips bump into the waistband of your panties. He hesitates, looking down at you, waiting for you to change your mind, to tell him to stop. “Please,” you beg. “Need you, Lo.”

Logan smirks, his hand slipping under the hem of your shorts and inside your panties. “Love it when you call me that, sweetheart,” he groans. His fingertips flick your clit gently before finding your folds, feeling your arousal. “Barely even touched you,” he tuts. “And she’s already crying for me.”

He prods your entrance, spreading your slick, teasing you. He bites your lips, sucking so hard he might bruise—might draw blood—and you hope he does. You want proof that he was here, proof that he wants you—needs you this badly. You moan as his fingers find your clit again, drawing a few soft circles before pulling away, his hand slipping out of your shorts.

You grab his biceps needily, impatiently, your nails digging into his skin. “Don’t stop,” you cry out. “Please, Logan.”

He swallows your moans with another kiss, his lips trailing down to your jaw, then your neck—that sensitive spot just under your ear. “Don’t worry, pretty girl,” he soothes, biting down on your pulse point, licking the hollow of your throat. “Don’t think I could stop if I tried.” He nips at your collarbone, shoving your tank top further up your chest as his lips drag down the valley of your breasts.

He kisses his way to your stomach, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down your legs. His palms spread across your inner thighs, yanking them apart. He settles between them, his face just inches from your heat. He presses a chaste kiss to your clit, still all too clothed, hidden behind your panties.

“Lo,” you whine. He breathes you in, pressing another kiss to your clit. He digs his fingers into the hem of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs.

“Wanna take my time with you, sweetheart,” he grunts, finally throwing your panties to the side. He spreads your legs wider, his face settling back between your thighs. You can feel his breath against your cunt, warm and teasing. “Wanna take care of you.” His lips finally find your clit again, and he licks at you.

His tongue is soft, warm, wet. He laps at you again, harder this time, and you moan his name. “Fuck,” you curse as he licks a long stripe through your folds and back up to your clit, flicking the bud. Your legs twitch, your hips backing away involuntarily at the newfound pleasure. Logan’s hands slide under your ass, yanking you back to his face.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He mumbles teasingly against you, the vibration of his deep, bassy voice rocking your core. “Not letting you go until I’m done with you, darlin’.”

You curse under your breath as he licks another long, slow stripe through your folds before settling on your clit. His tongue draws gentle circles around the bud, and you can’t hold back the loud moan that falls from your lips.

“Yeah?” Logan husks between laps. “Feels good, pretty girl?”

“Y-yes,” you stammer, looking down at Logan, his face buried against your cunt. His eyes are trained on yours, watching your every move, taking in the way you’re squirming for him. “D-didn’t know it would feel this good, Lo.”

“Gonna try something, okay?” He says, his eyes searching yours. You nod emphatically, bracing yourself. His lips wrap around your clit, his teeth lightly grazing the bud as he pulls it into his mouth. And then he sucks, hard. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, your back arching off the floor.

He releases the bud, and does it again, sucking harder this time. Tears brim at the corners of your eyes, pleasure coursing through your veins. “Logan!” You cry out, your nails digging into the floor below, searching for purchase. “Fuck!” He laps at you soothingly, drawing tighter, faster circles around your clit.

“You okay?” He coos between laps, his tongue swirling rapidly.

You swallow, meeting his gaze again. The sight of him between your legs, working your clit, his hair a disheveled mess—it’s overwhelming. “Yeah,” you heave. “More than okay.”

He smirks against you and wraps his lips around your clit again, sucking on the bud like hard candy. His right hand slides out from under your ass, trailing up your inner thigh. Your heart thunders in your chest as his fingertips find your folds, spreading your slick, your walls clenching down around nothing.

“Know you need ‘em, pretty girl,” Logan croons, two fingers nudging your entrance. “Beg for it.”

But he’s sucking on your clit again, making it impossible to say a word. You whimper, your legs trembling. “P-please,” you stutter, choking on air. “Need…” You trail off, your eyes fluttering closed. You swallow harshly. “Need your fingers, Lo,” you finally manage.

“That’s a good girl,” he praises, shoving two fingers deep inside you, down to his knuckles.

“Fuck, thank you,” you whine, moaning his name as his fingers stretch you out. You suddenly feel so full, so warm, so close. He pulls out, only to plunge back in, deeper this time. He’s lapping at you with reckless abandon—a man starved, like you’re the air he needs to breathe. Your walls flutter around him, the liquid heat in your lower belly threatening to burst.

“Tastes so good,” Logan mumbles against you, his long, thick fingers thrusting in and out. He hits that sweet spot deep inside you with every pump. “Such a sweet little pussy. Tastes better than I imagined.” You’re crumbling underneath him. His words alone might push you over the edge. “Nothing compares to you, you know that?”

Your walls flutter again, his fingers sinking deeper inside you. “You like that?” Logan husks. “Like knowing how much I want you? How much I need you?”

“Yes,” you groan, his fingers fucking into you, faster now. His teeth graze your clit as he pulls the bud back into his mouth and sucks roughly. “N-need you, too. Always.”

“I know, pretty girl,” he soothes, scissoring inside you, dragging along your walls. He laps at you, his tongue stroking your clit. “Not going anywhere. I’ve got you.”

You curse under your breath. You can feel yourself melting, your walls contracting and releasing. “Lo,” you call. “I’m so close. Wanna…” You trail off, unable to finish.

“Can feel you squeezing me, sweetheart,” he breathes. “Don’t hold back. Let it happen,” he coaches, rocking into you. “Wanna taste you, wanna feel you come on my fingers.” He laps at you between sentences. “Come for me. Know you can do it.” And then everything is white-hot and blazing.

It’s earth-shattering—better than anything has ever felt before. The tension snaps, heat boiling under your skin. Everything is blurry, hazy, dizzied as you let go, and let go hard. You cry out Logan’s name, your thighs shaking as waves of pleasure drag you under. Your bones are burning, scorching. Everything is on fire—overwhelming and greedily all-consuming.

Logan’s pumps slow, and he carefully pulls out of you. He laves at you, his tongue pushing through your folds, milking you dry, savoring every last drop.

“Logan,” you whisper, your hands reaching down to his head, digging your fingers into his scalp.

He hums against you, unwavering as his tongue laps at your folds, tasting your release.

You’re still shaking, still coming down from your high. “Logan,” you call again, and he looks up this time, lifting his face from your cunt. Your release glistens on his chin, and he licks his lips clean of you. His eyes are dark, his palms squeezing your thighs possessively.

“I’m not done yet, sweetheart,” he says, demand clear in his voice.

Your heart flutters in your chest as he climbs up your body, hovering over you again. His lips find yours. “You taste that?” He mumbles, kissing you again, harder this time. “You taste how sweet you are?”

“Y-yes,” you answer, his hand sliding down your body, slipping between your legs, finding your overstimulated clit.

He pinches the bud lightly, your back arching off the ground, your breasts pressing to his all-too-clothed chest. “Need more of you,” he husks, his hand dragging back up your body. He sits up and pulls you into his chest, taking all your weight as he hoists you up and stands. You instinctually wrap your legs around his waist.

He places you in the center of your bed before striding across the room, closing and locking your bedroom door. “They’ll all be home soon,” Logan says, walking back towards you, spreading your legs and settling between your thighs. “Might have to be quiet for me, darlin’.”

“W-what do you—”

And then his face is buried deep inside your cunt, his tongue lapping desperately at your clit. “I told you,” he rasps. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

tags: @wittyjasontodd @wolverinesslut @galacticglitterglue @silversprings-mp3 @zxaera @spiderset @figsnpassionfruits @alastorssimp @alsoprettyinpink @prettyseaveins @ilysmdovie12 @evasmlp @derbygracie @rammakela @honeyfewr @ricefordays-blog1 @manipulatour

4K notes · View notes

foldingfittedsheets · 5 months ago

Text

The location of the sex shop I worked was a haven for spiders. We had tall ceilings and skylights and unused storage rooms. It was a spider paradise. We quickly sussed out which coworkers to call on in case of emergency. The Dorito lady was a solid ally for spiders but absolutely petrified of moths.

But there’s actually a hierarchy of fear. Most people don’t realize. The person least afraid is the one forced to deal with the bug in question. If coworker B was scared, but coworker A was petrified, well coworker B was gonna have to screw their courage to the sticking place because by the law of fear they were the most competent person on scene.

Thus enters Rick. Rick first appeared in the back storage room. This room doubled as a second bathroom so we went in on a semi frequent basis. The girl who’d gone in to pee shot out again gibbering with fear about the biggest spider she’d ever seen had just run across her boot.

We sicced Dorito lady on it. She returned, shaking her head. “He was squatting on a power cord where it plugs in. I couldn’t get a clean shot at Rick.”

“Rick?”

She shrugged. “Spiders that big need a name. Seemed like a Rick.”

Rick, freshly named, became a store menace. I’d normally say this was probably a case of multiple spiders being mistaken for one but everyone who encountered him swore up and down there could be no mistake. This spider was massive, fast, and distinct. A gladiator among arachnids.

I never encountered Rick. His exploits grew in the telling but the theme was consistent: no one could kill him. He’d hunker in places that no one could reach and dart away when a strike missed. He also chased off the more faint hearted, charging them in bold dashes. There could be no benign cup transplant to remove Rick from the premise. He was not leaving.

The saga of Rick continued for two months. Not seeing him was almost worse, a fearful wariness when going to the bathroom or stepping into quieter areas. I waited with dread, hoping my eventual run in would have me on shift with Dorito lady to protect me.

It was not to be. There was a girl the same who hated my one moment of singing that was absolute piss-herself scared of spiders. She’d slam straight into a panic attack and couldn’t think or speak. And so it was that one night on shift, I heard her scream.

It was unmistakable. I was in the front window turning off the open sign. Through an obstacle course of mannequins and lingerie I performed an acrobatic sprint out of the window, darting up to find her quivering at the front counter, fully crying. I radiated calm at her and said, “Just point.”

I knew it was Rick. Our destinies were intertwined and we had always been pulled toward the inexorable battle that was drawing nigh.

Her hand raised to point to our sandwich board sign at the front of the store. So Rick had the metaphorical high ground. There was no quick easy strike on the slanted signs surface.

I armed myself and marched into battle, my knuckles white on my chosen weapon. I would do this, because I must. Because there was no one else. And because I wanted to close and go home.

I saw Rick immediately and I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen a bigger spider since. Outside of a tarantula, he was truly the most massive spider I’ve ever beheld outside a zoo enclosure or terrarium.

We regarded each other. Rick launched off the sign toward me and I stomped my foot reflexively, making him pause in his charge. Then I raised my weapon. Anything else, I believe Rick could have evaded. He’d bested most of the store thus far. But I had chosen chemical warfare.

I doused the shit out of that spider with cleaning spray, stunning him with a barrage of chemicals. While he froze, choking on the unexpected deluge, I dropped a paper towel over him. My foot came down.

I felt his exoskeleton crunch and I can feel it still to this day. The shattering was as of bones and I truly mourned that we had been forced into senseless war. If only he has cleaved tighter to the shadows. If only he’d crawled willing into a cup for relocation. I released a full body shudder of horror, fear, and adrenaline as I stepped back.

I took several quivering breaths. I donned a veneer of calm and tidied the battlefield of it’s corpse then went to reassure my coworker that all was well, while internally I still shook.

You fought well, Rick. I hope you sired many more monstrous children to haunt retail workers in the years to come. Rest in valor, you monster.

#ramblies #ffs foibles #spiders #spider #arachnophobia #Rick the spider #story #writing #funny #sex shop

5K notes · View notes

zooophagous · 2 years ago

Note

So why do you hate the advertising industry?

Hokay so.

Let me preface this with some personal history. It's not relevant to the sins of the advertising industry perse but it illustrates how I started to grow to hate it.

I wanted to be a veterinarian growing up, but to be a vet you basically have to be good enough to get into medical school. I do not have the math chops or discipline to make it in medical school. I went into art instead, and in a desperate attempt to find some commercial viability that didn't involve moving to California, I went into graphic design.

I've been a graphic designer for about seven or eight years now and I've worn a lot of hats. One of them was working in a print shop. Now, the print shop had a lot of corporate customers who had various ad campaigns. One of them was Gate City Bank, which had a bigass stack of postcards ordered every couple months to mail to their customers.

Now, paper comes from Dakota Paper, and they make their paper the usual way. Somewhere far, far from our treeless plain there is a forest of tall trees. These trees are cut down and put on big fossil fuel burning trucks and hauled to a paper mill that turns them into pulp while spewing the most fowl odors imaginable over the neighboring town and loads the pulp up with bleach to give it a nice white color.

Then the paper is put on yet another big truck and hauled off to the local paper depot, then put on another big truck and delivered to my print shop, where I turned the paper into postcards telling people to go even deeper into debt to buy a boat because it's almost summer. The inks used are a type of nasty heat sensitive plastic that is melted to the surface of the paper with heat. Then the postcards are put on yet ANOTHER truck and sent to the bank, which puts them on ANOTHER truck and finally into the hands of their customers, who open their mail and take one look at the post card and immediately discard it.

Heaps and heaps and literal hundreds of pounds of literal garbage created at the whim of the marketing team several times a year. And thats just one bank in one city.

I came to realize very quickly that graphic design was the delicate art of turning trees into junk mail.

And wouldn't you know it there are a TON of companies that basically only do junk mail. Many of them operate under the guise of a "charity," sending you pictures of suffering children or animals and begging for handouts and when they get those handouts the executives take a nice fat cut, give some small token amount to whatever cause they pay lip service to, and then put the rest of the cash right back into making more mailers. "Direct mail marketing" they call it.

Oh but maybe it's not so bad, you can advertise online after all. Now that there's decent ad blocker out there and better anti-virus ads usually don't destroy your computer anymore just by existing.

Except now when I search for the exact business I want on Google it's buried under three or four different "promoted search items" tricking me into clicking on them only to shoot themselves in the foot because I searched for the specific result I wanted for a reason and couldn't use those other websites even if I felt like it.

And now we have advertising on YouTube and on every streaming service, forcing more and more eyes onto the ad for the brand new Buick Envision that parks itself because you're too stupid to do it on your own.

Oh thats ok maybe I'll get Spotify premium and go ad free and listen to some podcasts- SIKE we have the hosts of your show doing the song and dance now. Are you depressed and paranoid from listening to my true crime podcast about murdered and mutilated teenagers? That's ok, my sponsor Better Help can keep you sane enough to stay alive and spend more money.

It's gotten so terrible that now you have content farms, huge hubs of shell companies that crank out video after video to get more and more precious clicks. Which if the videos were innocuous maybe that wouldn't be so awful except now you have cooking hacks that can actually burn your house down and craft hacks that can electrocute you being flung into your eyes at the speed of mach fuck so some slimy internet clickbait jockey doesn't need to get a real job.

It of course goes without saying that animals are also relentlessly exploited by clickbait companies that will put them in compromising situations on purpose to create a fake fishing hack video or even just straight up killing them for sport by feeding small animals to a pufferfish that rips them apart for the camera.

And all of this, ALL of this doesn't even touch how adveritising is the death of art in general. Queer topics, any kind of interesting art, any kind of sex or substance use topics are scrubbed clean and hidden at the behest of advertisers.

Sex education, a nude statue, topics such as racism or sexism or bigotry in general have tags purged or hidden from search, even life saving information about SDTs or drug use, because if someone saw that and complained then Verizon might sell fewer tablets and we can't fucking have that.

Conservative talking heads often bitch and moan that they're being censored on social media. The stupid part is, they're right! They are being censored! But it's not by a woke mob, it's by ATT and Coca Cola not wanting their adspace sharing screen time with their stupid fucking opinions.

However, they won't ever figure that out, because the talking heads they get their marching orders from like Tucker and Jones ALSO rely on the sweet milk flowing from the sponsorship teat and they aren't about to turn on their meal ticket so they have to come up with even stupider shit to say for the train to continue rolling.

I managed to rant this far without even getting into the ads I see for the beauty industry. The other day a botox ad described wrinkles as "moderate to severe crows feet" as if wrinkles are a symptom of a fucking serious disease! Like having a flaw in your skin is a medical problem that you need thousands of dollars of literal botulism toxin to fix! I was incandescent with anger.

Advertising is a polluting, censoring, anti educational and anti art industry at it's very core. It destroys human connections, suppresses human thought and makes us hate our own bodies. It ads no value, actively detracts from value, and serves no real purpose and I believe it should be almost if not entirely banned.

23K notes · View notes

dravidious · 1 year ago

Text

Love learning how to spell difficult words by memorizing how the letters looks like they should be pronounced. Beautiful -> beh-a-oo-tiful. Restaurant -> Res-taoo-rant. Nuisance -> new-i-sance. But for the longest time I kept forgetting that separate is se-PAH-rah-te and I'd pronounce it se-PE-rah-te. No, it's se-PAH-rah-te! PAH! I eventually beat it into my brain and now I can spell separate.

#original #very important to learn to spell things because i write in notepad which doesn't have spellcheck #i love notepad because it's so lightweight and efficient and loads super fast!#the only problems are no spellcheck and no dark mode #i did find a notepad dark mode online but it didn't have a key feature of notepad:#if you put notepad on your taskbar and right click it you can easily access your recently opened files #VERY important #fortunately i have my trusty screen color inverter to the rescue #very handy as an improvised dark mode #but seriously why does everything use a white background?#white background is for PAPER this is SCREENS the default is BLACK PIXELS #good old 0-0-0 rgb #but no we have to have blinding white as the default background for some reason #what about saving electricity!? ever think of that!?

0 notes

suncoved · 4 months ago

Text

HANDS OF AN ANGEL ! — RAFE CAMERON (18+ smut mdni)

in which, washing rafe's hair didn't go as you planned.

you looked up slowly from your book to the sound of your bedroom door opening roughly, rafe trudging in lethargically. your eyes followed him around the room as he threw off his clothes one by one, a trail of fabric following him until he was just left in his boxers.

you rolled your eyes at his unnecessary messiness and let your eyes travel back down to the off-white pages of your book.

you could only read about three words before rafe huffed rather dramatically across the room.

you ignored his annoying sighs and groans until it was physically impossible to not pay attention to him, slamming your book closed and looking at him from the bed.

"what is it rafey?" you asked sweetly, even though you knew what he was gonna ask. "shower" he said simply, nudging his head towards the bathroom from where he stood right outside it. "can't baby, i already put all my lotions and oils and stuff, you're gonna have to have one without me" you answered, watching his face turned into that of a five-year-olds if they were just told they couldn't go to disneyland that day.

"ok" he huffed, turning around and entering the bathroom, but leaving the door open so you could see everything. you giggled softly, turning your attention back to the book in your hands.

you only perked up when you heard the tap of the bath turn on, not the shower. rafe was having a bath?

if there was one thing you had to know about rafe cameron, is that he hated baths, more than an average human being did. he only tolerated them because he could feel you up more in the bath than in the shower because of the close proximity.

but he always took a shower after because he doesn't like 'bathing in his own filth for half and hour'

you itched to get up and hop in the bath with him, but that's what he wanted, because why else would he torture himself like that?

after about 5 minutes of reading the same line over and over again, you untangled yourself from your bedsheets and made your way over to your vanity. reaching your hand into the brown paper shopping bag, you pulled out bottles of shampoo, conditioner, hair masks and hair oils, making your way over to the bathroom with an arm full of hair products.

he heard you from a mile away, staring straight at you as you walked into his trap. "got you baby" he said, hinting at the fact that he was having a bath, for you.

"nope" you said, padding your way over to the bathtub. he looked at you quizzically at the new products you had with you.

you were glad that even though he was very very naked, there were mounds of bubbles covering him, his face and shoulders the only thing showing above the water. because after you spent nearly an hour after your shower rubbing oils and creams over your skin, you really didn't want to end up in the bath with rafe

"what've you got there bug?" he asked as you dragged your soft bathmat to the edge of the bathtub so you could have something to kneel on, placing the products softly on the floor.

"gonna wash your hair rafe" you state, reaching over and running your hand softly through his wet hair. "yeah?" he asked, tilting his head softly in admiration. "i went out and got some stuff for your hair type, not that you need any help with your hair at all! i just wanna do stuff for you like you do stuff for me." you quickly got quieter by the end of your sentence, avoiding eye contact with him.

"c'mere baby" he whispers, matching your soft tone. you hesitantly look at him, biting your lip nervously. your chin felt wet as he gripped it softly, bringing your lips to touch his as he kissed you. he pulled back first, resting his forehead on yours as he looked at you. "thank you, baby. i don't do the stuff i do for you to get repaid, but i love that you think of me"

you beam at his words, leaning down again and placing one last peck on his lips.

you pull up the sleeves of your long-sleeved white pyjama shirt before you lean over to squirt a generous amount of shampoo on your palm.

after rubbing your hands together to create a milky white texture in the shampoo, you leaned over the tub. the white acrylic made contact with where your bra wire would be had you been wearing one, oblivious that as you were reaching your arms to rafe's hair your tits were being pushed together, his eyes immediately staring holes into your cleavage.

"your hair is gonna be so soft rafey!" you exclaimed, using your acrylics to massage the shampoo into his scalp, making his eyes roll to the back of his head in pleasure.

you pulled back after sudsing up the liquid, biting your lip in concentration as you placed your hands on the side of his head and lowered his hair in the water.

he looked up to you, your hair hanging over him, your stare so concentrated, and your tits fully in his face.

rafe knows you didn't notice how much harder it was getting to hide his hard-on under the now less soapy water, the combination of you scratching his scalp and your cleavage fully on view making him spiral.

"ok, all done! once you get out, ill-dry it and put some oil on the ends." you voiced after raking the conditioner and leave in treatment through his hair, leaning down to kiss him after he made a come here motion with his fingers.

what you were unaware of though, is that as rafe was deepening the kiss between you two, he was pulling his hands out of the warm water and straight to your chest.

"rafe!" you gasped, pulling back instinctively as his hands made your once white shirt now see-through at your nipples.

"shh baby, c'mere. don't make me ask you again" he groaned, sitting up straighter so he could use his hands to pull your body towards his.

as he began another steamy kiss with you, he traced your nipples through your shirt, making you shiver. "rafe... i don't wanna get all wet" you whined, pulling back for a moment, giving him a chance to latch his mouth onto one of your tits.

"ill help you put more cream on later, now let me fuck that sweet pussy of yours" he rasped, pulling your shirt and shorts off as you came to a stand in front of him.

"can't believe my baby would think that i would let her win and sit out there reading her book. so naive" rafe cooed, his soft mannerisms of holding your hand until you made it safely in the tub being a complete juxtaposition of the nasty words he had uttered before.

you melted in the somehow still-warm water as he sucked at your neck, his hands roaming all around your body until he made it to your core.

"you're lucky we're in the tub bunny, because i'm gonna make you cum so hard you're gonna make a mess" he whispered into your ear, bringing a strong hand up to rest firmly around your neck, and the other now making circles on your clit.

you looked up at him in a daze, you're eyes already glossed over as you laid your head against his chest. due to the confined space, you could already feel his hard length resting below your ass, making you squirm.

he entered one finger into you without warning, making you gasp. "shhh, quit whining. you're alright." rafe commanded, beginning to pump his finger in and out of you. he placed soft kisses on your head, his hand on your throat providing a comforting presence to you somehow.

rafe always made sure that during these times you felt loved and appreciated by him, knowing that your mind had the tendency to roam with thoughts 24/7.

"ready for another baby?" rafe asked, your walls somehow still tight around his finger. your hum in reply earned rafe to tighten his hold around your neck, urging you to use your words.

"yes rafey, please" you replied, snuggling more in his chest and looking up and him with glossy eyes. "ok, are you sure you can take it?" he teased, earning a whine to come from your chapped lips.

he slipped another finger into you, pumping them in and out as you squirmed. "good girl, such a good girl for me" he praised, beginning to pick up speed as you gleamed at his praise.

"g-gonna come rafey" you whined, gasping as he quickly pulled his fingers out of you. you immediately turned your head to look up at him in shock, annoyed that he wouldn't let you come to his reach.

"don't look at me like that brat, you can cum on my cock" he remarked, placing another kiss on your head as you whined once more.

he pulled his hand cock to line up with your entrance, stroking your cheek as he slid into you softly. "shh, your alright sweet girl. i got you" rafe reassured in response to your gasp.

he groaned as he bottomed out inside of you, stalling for a moment to look at your expression before beginning to pump in and out. "shit, most perfect pussy i ever had. taking my whole cock like the perfect girl you are, love you so much" he rambled, his mind in a haze as you squeezed around him.

he began picking up his pace, slamming into you from below as the water rippled from his movements. you were to cock drunk to worry that the water could splash out of the tub, gasping as he brought a finger down to circle your clit.

"rafe" you whined as you tightened around him, signalling to him that the knot in your tummy was about to burst. "i got you baby, milk my cock"

you squeezed your eyes shut as you came around him, hearing his groan echo in your ears as he shot his load inside of you. you rolled your eyes to the back of your head as he worked you through your orgasm, slowing the circling of his fingers as he stroked your hair as whispered in your ear

"so perfect for me baby, so so perfect"

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe smut #outer banks

2K notes · View notes

teliphone · 1 month ago

Text

Tickles, Doesn't it?

Summary: You get partnered with Rio Vidal to work on the newest case. You can't understand her and it feels like she doesn't like you. In a short amount of time, you feel like you've impressed her and she finds you interesting to mess with.

Warning(s): Smut, Death (not you), Blood, Overstimulation, Fingering, Oral, Sub!FemReader

Word Count: 5.6k

Rio Vidal slowly walks over with one hand in her black pants. Her other hand holds onto the new case files. She stops in front of your desk and drops the heavy file before you. You flinch back a little before looking up. Her face is stern as she crosses her arms across her chest. This move causes her chest to peek out from her slightly unbuttoned white dress shirt. She raises her eyebrows.

“These are the new documents on the case the chief assigned you. This will be the first time you’re partners with me. Don't screw things up for me, alright?” She warns. You bite your tongue from speaking back. You never understood why she has always been so cold to you. You were no longer a rookie in the department nor did you slack at your job.

Your eyes lower from her face to the file. Your fingers touch the edges of the papers. Before you could flip the page, you see a shadow cast over the paper. You tilt your head up to see her body towering above you. Her hands firmly grab the edge of the desk. She leans her head down to stare deep into your eyes. You nervously gulp from the closeness. You can see her black bra peeking above her open shirt.

“You’re not going to respond to me?” She asks slowly. Your breathing halts a little. You nervously glance around her face, taking this opportunity to take in her features. Her eyes are brown with a slight hint of dark eye circles underneath. Her eyeliner and mascara are on the darker side. Her lip color is red matte. She is irritatingly attractive. You didn’t know you could be attracted to an older woman til you set eyes on her.

“About what?” You question. Her tongue sticks out against the inside skin of her mouth in frustration. She narrows her eyes at you one last time before pushing herself off the table. She tugs her black suit to straighten herself.

“I’ll be in my office if you have any questions,” She moves on. She doesn’t wait for you to respond and starts walking away. You watch her slightly swing her hips with each step. You let out a soft groan once she’s out of view. You stare back down at the stacks of papers. It is going to take a while to catch up on this case.

There is a meeting with some officers at the station. You were fortunate to be sitting alongside the other top detectives and chiefs… which includes Rio Vidal. You nervously bit your bottom lip as you stare at her. She sits across the table with an emotionless expression. She slumps back into the seat. Her fingertips playfully drum against the seat handle. Her eyes examine the area til she lands on you. You snap your head away and self cautiously straighten your back. You sneak a peek at her again to confirm she’s still staring at you. The corner of her lips curve into a smile and you feel your heart hammer against your chest. You could not understand what her facial expression meant. The meeting continues as usual, except for the fact you keep making eye contact with her. You force yourself to stop looking over and glued your attention to the chief. Rio Vidal notices your behavior change and brings the back of her hand to cover her lips. She sucks in a deep breath and gently releases. Once the meeting ends you quickly dart towards the door. You rush to your seat to avoid any conversations. You pick up a highlighter and start circling important details on your case paper. A shadow casts over the papers again and you grip the highlighter.

“What do you want?” You sigh as you look up at the culprit. Rio Vidal smiles widely as she dares to lean closer to your face. Her scent becomes stronger.

“Put on your jacket,” She orders. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“Wait why…” You drift off as she starts to walk away. You sigh in frustration but don’t waste time to follow orders. You toss the highlighter aimlessly on your desk and get up from your seat. You swing your trench coat on and stumble on your footing to catch up with her. She walks out of the police station and stares at the sunset. She can feel the cold wind creeping against her exposed skin. She hears your footsteps behind her and starts walking to her car.

“Where are we going?” You call out.

“Crime scene,” She blankly states. You widen your eyes in realization. This will be the first search with her. You open the passenger side and quietly sit. You watch her turn on the engine and shift the gear to reverse. Suddenly she places a hand behind the head of your seat and you stiffen. She turns her body to look behind her car as she reverses. You awkwardly stare at the window to limit yourself from gawking at her. She sneaks a glimpse at your figure and watches how your throat lumps with each shallow. She returns her hands to the stirring wheel. The whole car ride was silent. There was not much to talk about. Rio Vidal keeps to herself and you have a suspicion that she dislikes you. As you stare at the window you notice the sky getting dark. A few minutes later you see raindrops roll down on the window. You clench the jacket closer to your body. In your head, you thank her for telling you to wear a jacket. About twenty minutes later you see her pull up to a street. She gets out of the car without a word and you follow behind.

The flashing lights of red and blue reflect off the wet cement walls beside you as you walk closer to the crime scene. You glance to your right and see other police officers blocking curious pedestrians from entering to take a peek. Returning your face to the front, you note how dark and cold the atmosphere is. You let out a small smile.

“Of course… How classic it is for someone to kill someone in this type of weather,” You whisper to yourself. Rio Vidal quickly glances at you with an unreadable look before she walks away. You step under the crime scene tape while holding onto your long jacket. Once away from the larger public view, you can see the scene more clearly. You walk closer til in front of you lay a woman so perfectly in the middle. Almost as if someone placed her there to get attention. Her body is stiff and gray. Her clothes were dirty, but still fully on her. You lean down to stare at her face. Her black hair is neatly brushed and her bangs are tucked behind her ears. You stare at her face and notice a shade of red lipstick on her. Following her features up, you fix your eyes on the dried run-down mascara on her cheeks. With closer inspection, you could tell someone tried cleaning the mascara off. Her dull yet shocked eyes stare behind you. Suddenly a wave of chills runs down your body. You are used to looking at dead bodies due to the number of crime scenes you have investigated, but this one feels different… it’s almost as if someone prepared this like a presentation. You feel a pressure on your hip which causes you to jerk in fright. Rio Vidal has just returned from receiving information from other officers. She has a sick smile on her face, proud that she has successfully frightened you. She returns her slender fingers to her side. She tilts her head to glance at the dead body next to you. You hear her let out a soft hum. You bite your bottom lip, deep in thought. Something about how the dead body is laid out does not feel right.

“What is it?” She asks. You jerk your face up to see her staring at you. You tilt your head to the side to look at the ground. You feel a gush of wind blow.

“Doesn’t this case feel a little different to you?” You ask. She turns her body slightly so that her attention can be fully on you. She stares at you with an unexplainable look. You nervously rub your fingers. You have never told her this before, but you look up to her. You feel like you need to impress her. You hope this paranoid mind of yours doesn’t throw her off.

“How so?” She asks. You nick your nail against your skin. You suck in a deep breath. You can feel her waiting for you to explain yourself. You gather your thoughts to make sure you don’t sound too insane.

“When I looked at the body I couldn’t help but notice that… someone presented her beautifully,” You nervously explain. You gulp at yourself for saying the word beautiful. Why did you credit the murder? You glance up to see her face is emotionless. She probably thinks you’re insane for saying that.

“W-what I mean is that I noticed her hair was neatly brushed. She also had red lipstick on her. It wasn’t smeared or anything as if the murderer placed it on her after she died. They wanted her to look presentable and that is what I don’t understand,” You finish your thoughts. You blush in embarrassment. You didn’t mean to ramble. You hear her softly giggle and you snap your neck at her. Her brown eyes have a tint of glee.

“I’m glad you noticed,” She whispers. You blink in confusion.

“What?” You blurt. She leans back and lets out a throaty chuckle.

“I noticed it too,” She explains. Your shoulders drop in a sigh. You think you have scored a point on her non-existent board. She gives you a gentle pat on the shoulders. The first time she has ever touched you. She keeps her hand lingering on your shoulder for a little bit before sliding her hand away.

“Good job analyzing. Keep taking notes. I’ll discuss a few more questions with the police and we’ll discuss them later,” She explains before walking off. You let out a shaky breath. Joy boosts in your veins from receiving a compliment from her. Not wanting to waste more time, you pull out your small notepad and start jotting down notes as ordered.

“Where do you live? We can discuss it there,” Rio Vidal suggests as she starts the engine. She takes out her phone and presses onto the GPS app. You silently type in your address without questioning. She smiles in satisfaction and shifts the gear to drive. You play with your fingers to entertain yourself in the silence. The car ride to your house was faster than you expected. She shuts the engine off and waits for you to make the first move. You unbuckle your seat belt and open the car door to get out. She copies and stares at your house for a moment. Her head tilts a little as she analyzes each detail. You find her staring at your window a little longer.

“Nice place,” She compliments as she walks towards you. You take out your keys to unlock the front door. You can feel her presence close behind you and you feel goosebumps suddenly rise on your arms. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. You lift your arm to your eyes to examine the hairs sticking up.

“...Are we just going to stand out here?” She speaks up with a dry chuckle. You jerk your arm down with an embarrassing blush appearing on your cheeks. You push the front door open and flick on the light switch. You place your jacket on the coat racket and hurry to clean the living room area. You weren’t expecting guests. She silently watches you gather all the paperwork from multiple cases into a neat pile. You grab the empty water bottles lying around to toss them in the trash. You have been working hard and overtime which results in a lack of self-care. You brush your hair away from your forehead and let out a deep breath.

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting company,” You shyly apologize. She smiles and slowly nods her head to express that she doesn’t mind. Her curious eyes glance around your house as if she is mentally taking note of everything. She walks over to your single-person couch and plops herself on it. She lets out a throaty sigh and relaxes her body.

“Want a drink?” You offer. She peers at you beneath her long lashes. She ponders a little, narrowing her eyes in thought. She tilts her head slightly with a small smile.

“You have beer?” She asks. You walk over to your fridge and pull out two bottles of beer. You hand her one which she happily accepted. You take a seat on your other couch, opposite side of her. Her eyes never leave you as she takes a big swing of the liquid. Her jaw clenches as she shallows. She leans back onto the seat and crosses her legs. You take a small sip and gently place it back onto the table. You pull the notebook out from your pocket. You flip through the pages til you find the most recent one.

“I found a few more interesting things on the victims' skin-”

“I didn’t come here just to talk about the case,” She cuts you off. Your tongue stops moving as if she had cut it off. You tilt your head in confusion. You want to ask her what else is she here for, but no words come out. She notices your inner struggle and waves the beer bottle. She feels slightly bad.

“But yes, what were you saying?” She averts the topic back on track. She takes another gulp of the beer. You watch a single drop slip from her lips and roll down her throat. You silently dry shallow. She takes the back of her hand to wipe it. She continues to listen to your new findings without disrupting you. You mention how you notice a slight green color around the victim's wrist. By the time you were done speaking, she had finished half the bottle. You place the notebook down and wait for her to speak. She leans forward and rests her elbows on her knee. Her face is stern with deeper meaning.

“Can I ask you something?” She challenges.

“Yeah,” You answer almost like a whisper.

“Do you ever feel like you’re being watched?” She tests. You immediately feel a chill run down your spine. You blink nervously, darting your eyes to the window. Why is she asking this? It makes you scared without reason.

“What do you mean,” You hesitate. She brings the back of her hand to cover her smile. She lets out a chuckle. She focuses on your eyes and notices a hint of fear. She fake coughs as she brushes her pants. She gets up from the couch and turns to head to the door. You quickly get up to follow her, anxiously looking over your shoulder. She catches you in the act and couldn’t help but laugh again. She brings her fingers to touch the tips of your hair. She twirls the strand between the thumb and pointer finger.

“You’ll begin understanding what the victims truly feel,” She explains. She lets go of your hair and opens the door herself. She doesn’t turn to face you as she waves goodbye.

“Lock your doors,” She chirps. You watch her spin her keychains around her finger. She enters her car and you watch til she is down the street. You slam the door shut and immediately lock the door. You place your palm against the door and take a deep breath. Now that she is gone, your house is more eerie and quiet. You shake the chills from your body and turn around. You pick up the glass bottles and notice her red lipstick mark on the rim. You lift the rim closer to your eyes to examine it. Matte red. You let out a small smile as you thought about how well the color matched her. Your smile starts to drop when you remember what she said. ‘Do you ever feel like you’re being watched?’ her voice replayed in your mind. You try to understand the deeper meaning. You assume that she was talking about tactics. You’ve heard multiple times that a good detective understands the mindset of the murderer or victim.

It’s the next day and you walk into the kitchen to grab a water bottle. As you tilt your head back to drink, you feel a dark presence behind you. It feels like it’s breathing down your neck. You jerk your head behind only to see nothing. You place the bottle down and move your hand to your forehead.

“I must be paranoid,” You sigh to yourself. As you lift the bottle to your lips again you hear a slight creek. You pause and the creek happens again. It sounds like a footstep. Fear and anxiety buzz in your mind. Your blood begins to pump too loud. You quietly reach over to grab a knife. You grip the handle. With alert eyes and adrenaline, you take a step towards the sound. You inspect the area but find nothing suspicious. You lower the knife. You tilt your head in confusion. You could’ve sworn you heard someone or something here. You turn your body and collide into something. The impact caused the knife to slip from your hands and clatter onto the ground. You let out a scream and nearly fall. Rio Vidal smiles brightly from seeing your reaction. Her hair is fully down and longer than you expected. She wears a normal black sweater. You hold yourself onto the wall and place a hand on your heart.

“Rio!? What- how did you get in here?!” You gasp, heart still pounding. She jerks her head towards the door and shrugs.

“Doors unlock,” She casually states. You turn your head to the lock to confirm it was unlocked. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. You remembered you locked the doors last night… how did it…

“I just wanted to come by and say hi. I missed you,” She teases. There was no hint of truth in her statement. You gently laugh in disbelief. She takes out a note from her pocket and hands it over to you.

“I did some digging last night. This autopsy case number from a few months ago is similar to the body yesterday. Look into it,” She explains. You examine the neatly written number on the note.

“…Okay thank you,” You respond. She smiles and nods her head. She doesn’t waste another second.

“I’ll see you soon,” She turns her body and waves her hands without looking back again. She stops at the door and a smirk appears on her lips.

“Next time you should actually use the knife,” She chuckles. You hear the door close beside you. You stare at the knife lying on the ground. You feel embarrassed at how helpless you quickly became. If it were someone else you would’ve been done for.

It’s later in the night and the moon shines brightly in the sky. You sit on the couch with the laptop on the coffee table. You type the case number onto the database and watch the screen load up the autopsy. You let out a small gasp. The pictures of the body closely resembled the one yesterday. Freshly red lipstick and combed hair. Your eyes notice something around the victim's wrist. You zoom the picture closer. The wrist has a slight green mark.

You hear the floors creak again, but this time it’s above you. Your eyes dart from the screen into the dark space. The creaking continues in small time measures. You lower the laptop screen when you realize someone is upstairs. You quickly get up and rush into the kitchen to grab a knife. You grip the handle more firmly, not letting it drop this time. You quietly reach the staircase. With each step, your heart thumps louder. You finally make it closer to the sound. The soft shuffle sounds are coming from your room. Your hand reaches the handle, but you pause. You take a deep breath and silently pray.

You shove the doors open and the figure inside your room freezes in shock. Your eyes widen at the body. You can tell it’s a woman, judging by the curves exposed by the tight black shirt and pants. Her hair is dark and long. You could not tell who it was because she had a mask that only exposed her eyes. The woman lunges towards you. You try swinging your knife, but she grabs your wrist and pins you against the hallway wall. She tilts her head to examine you. Her dark cold eyes piercing yours. You struggled against her, trying to push against her strength, but it was no use. You jerk your head forward to head bump her. She grunts in pain and lets go of your wrist to hold her forehead. You give her stomach a strong kick. She lets out a sharp yelp and falls. You rush to escape, but she clings onto your ankle making you trip and fall. The knife falls out of your grip and clatters onto the ground. You try crawling your way to the knife, but the woman has already run to grab it. You lay helplessly, staring up at her. She walks over til she is above you. She kneels her thighs around your stomach. She lets out a teasing laugh before she tries jabbing the knife into your neck. You quickly grab onto the sharp blade and wince in pain. Your blood starts pooling at the tip of the knife. It drips onto your face.

“Have you ever felt this pain?” She purrs. You grunt as she presses the edge deeper. She leans in to observe you. She watches how your jaws clench tightly. A few whimpers would escape your mouth. Your eyes begin to form tears.

“It kinda tickles doesn’t it?” She giggles. You feel your stomach turn at her taunts. You let go of the knife and clench your hands around her throat. She lets out an airy gasp. She wraps her fingers around your wrist and stares into your eyes. Her eyes seem to sparkle with delight. Strangely, she isn’t trying to pull your hands away. She hums and buckles her hips slightly against you. With a quick move, you pull the mask down to reveal the woman’s face. Your eyes widen and you feel your blood run cold.

Rio Vidal.

She smiles brightly with her teeth showing. You couldn’t believe it was her. Your grip around her neck loosens. She swiftly takes your wrist in one hand and pins it above your head. She places the tip of the knife against the skin of your collar.

“Why are you doing this?” You gasp. She shakes her head revealing she won’t tell. The tip of the knife digs deeper into your skin. You feel a heavy drip of blood run down your chest. She lets out a low chuckle. She leans her head towards you and you shut your eyes in fear. Suddenly you feel a warm wet muscle touch your skin. She drags her tongue from the top of your chest to the cut. Your blood is evident on her tongue. She softly moans and you feel your stomach flutter. She feels your body struggle beneath her. She gently takes your cut palm to her lips. You try jerking your hands away, but she tightens the grip.

“Stop squirming. Let me heal you,” She whispers. Something in her tone is lance with concern. You listen to her and halt your movement. She sticks out her tongue and slowly tails her warm tip along the deep cut. Your face scrunches in pain and your thighs clench in arousal. Her gaze never leaves your eyes. Your cheeks turn red as you watch her. She let go of your hands and you immediately went to look at it. The cut was healed. You could only see the mix of your blood and her saliva glistening against your skin. You’re in disbelief.

“H-How?” You breathe out. She licks her lips slowly as if she didn’t want to waste a single drop. Her fingernails find themselves scratching your jaw slightly.

“Are you going to run?” She asks. You immediately shake your head no, but in your head, you plan to use this as an escape. She gently taps your cheeks and smiles.

“Good,” She purrs. She gets up from your stomach and checks her body for bruises. She lifts her shirt to inspect her stomach. You had kicked her hard earlier. While she is distracted, you quickly run into your room. You rush to your nightstand and open the drawer that has your officer pistol. Your heart sinks. It’s not there.

“Looking for this?” She chirps as she playfully shakes the pistol in the air. Her other hand rubs her stomach to ease the bruising pain. You put your shaking hands up as surrender. You thought she was going to shoot you, but she ended up sliding the gun down the long hallway. She has a different idea. You try to dart past her, but she grabs your waist and shoves you onto the bed. You cry out in frustration and try clawing at her back. She pins you down but you keep thrashing your body. Your thighs grind against her and she bites her lip.

“You lied,” She hisses. She grabs your face harshly, no longer gentle. She forces you to keep still. Your tears roll down your cheeks. She uses her thumb to rub it.

“Let me go,” You beg.

“Not when you look this good,” She smirks. She pauses to stare at your pitiful crying face. She seems to be in awe. She finds herself leaning down to kiss your wet cheeks. Slowly, she kisses her way to your lips. Her lips are soft and needy. Your heart hammers loudly against your chest. You want to push her away, but her lips cloud your mind. She pulls away to test you. To see if you would shove her away. Her heart skips a beat when she finds you submissively lying still. Your eyes glare back at her, but she knows better. She returns her lips to yours and moves it slowly. You hear her let out a low moan. Her tongue rubs against your lower lip and you clench your thighs. You refuse to kiss her back.

“I know you want to,” She whispers in between kisses. Her thumb continues to gently rub your cheeks. She lets out another soft hum. You open your mouth to speak and she quickly slips her tongue in.

“I- I hate you,” You grunt. Your toes curl each time her tongue brushes in. She ignores you and continues kissing. You shut your eyes tightly. Her slow harsh moving lips turns you on more than you expected.

“Kiss me,” She begs. The pleading sound coming from her switches something in your head. You kiss her back. Your wet lips slide easily against hers. She lets out a dirty chuckle.

“Mm there you go,” She breathes. She slides her hands down your shirt til she reaches the edge. Her fingers sneak up to grope your chest. She grips harshly like a touch-starve woman. You let out a small grunt and arch your body against her. She pinches your nub hard. You accidentally bite onto her lips in reaction. She moans and buckles her core against you. She pulls away from the kiss and rubs your swollen lips with her fingers.

“Let me eat you,” She expresses. You blush and turn your head to the side to avoid her stare. Her other hand finds the loop of your pants. She gives it a small tug as she leans her mouth to your ears. She breathes and licks the shell of your ears. You twitch under her touch.

“I want to taste you,” She sighs. She moves your head to face her. She sticks out her long tongue and flicks up.

“You’re so perverted,” You blush. She chuckles and attempts to tug your pants down. From the position you lay, it makes it hard for her to pull it. Your hands reach down to unbutton and zip down. Her hungry eyes watch your fingers move fast. You lift yourself slightly to pull your pants along with your panties down. It drops at the edge of your bed. She runs her nails along your lower stomach with a cocky smile. You feel your cheeks heating up in embarrassment. She begins lowering herself between your legs. She spreads your thighs apart and lets out a dirty gasp. She glances up at you between her lashes. She drags her finger along your slit and you jerk your legs together when she gets close to the clit. She clicks her tongue in disapproval and forces your legs apart which causes you to grunt. Without warning she drags her tongue along your dripping cunt. She closes her eyes to process how you taste. She lets out a hum of approval. She continues to give you short and small licks. She would sometimes lick your clit, but not enough to satisfy you. You push your head against the pillow, feeling impatient. You bring one hand down to touch the top of her messy dark head. Your fingers grip onto her hair and you shamelessly shove her deeper into your cunt. She grinds her fingers into your thighs.

“Fucken hurry,” You cuss out. She smiles happily at your aggressiveness. You chase your core against her tongue to please yourself. She allows you to take control, even if your grip on her hair starts to hurt.

“Feels good doesn't it?” She smirks. You bite your lips and nod your head. Your shirt starts to feel stuffy because of how hot you’re becoming. She pushes her hand against your thighs to spread yourself wider. She starts to lick harshly and sucks your clit. You suck in a sharp moan. Your wetness mixes in with her saliva. Her strong tongue doesn't stop flicking against your clit. You gasp and roll your eyes in pleasure. You feel your lower stomach beginning to build up for an orgasm. Your leg twitches each time she decides to suck.

“You’re so good,” You praise. She smiles and runs her tongue against your slit again. Your hands gripping her head start to loosen. She glances up to see you enjoying yourself. Your other hand is busy groping your chest. She gives your clit a strong suck. This causes you to let out a loud moan and grip her head harder. She repeats the act and watches how your body arches up. Your other hand reaches down to join the other. You roll your cunt against her mouth while clenching both hands on her head. More cusses and moans spill from your lips. She can tell you are nearly close to reaching your high. Your body begins to shake so much that she has to push your thighs down.

“I’m close,” You gasps. She closes her eyes to focus on licking and sucking your clit. With a few more movements from her tongue, you reach your orgasm with an embarrassingly loud cry. Your body twitches and you gasp for air. You pat her head to signal her to stop, but she ignores it and continues sucking.

“W-wait!” You moan, feeling overstimulated. You let go of her hair to clench onto the bedsheets. She brings her fingers to your core and plunges in her middle finger. The finger easily slides in and out with your silky juice. You let out a whine. She lifts her mouth from your core. You see her lips glistening.

“Give me another one,” She demands. You shake your sweaty head, chest moving up and down. You can feel tears building up and she smiles. Just what she wanted. She adds another finger into your core. You tilt your head back against the pillow to cry out. The stretch of her fingers feels so good.

“I want to see you cry,” She darkly chuckles. She feels your warm hole welcome her fingers in so well. She decides to curl her fingers to press into your gummy walls. You moan loudly and feel tears running down your cheeks. She returns her tongue to your clit and sucks. As her fingers continue to abuse your walls, her mouth sucks. You are panting and moaning. You don’t even understand what is coming out of your mouth. Your orgasm is coming faster than the previous one. Your body jerks feverishly. Your hair sticks against your sweaty forehead and neck. Her long fingers increase in speed. She doesn’t care how hard she is going in you. You feel yourself let out a loud squeal as you reach another high. She feels wetness run down her knuckles and she finally slows down her fingers and tongue. She slips her fingers out and watches you catch your breath. She wipes her wet mouth with the back of her hands. She leans foreward to kiss you a kiss on the cheek.

“My heart beats for you,” She whispers at your state of vulnerability. You gaze at her with tired eyes. She watches you with curiosity as you take her wet fingers to your mouth. You lick along her palm to her long fingers that were in you. Her mouth slightly opens as she gasps. Her eyes darken in pleasure and she simply smiles. Your eyes notice an unusual green color on your wrist.

2K notes · View notes

sweetangelgirl7 · 2 months ago

Text

𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝜗𝜚 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

in which you find yourself in the restroom with chris at one of your infamous parties — only having a few minutes to spare

warnings: SMUT! softdom!chris x fem!reader, plot, use of pet names, unprotected sex, overstimulation, hair pulling, (slight) choking, creampie.

word count: 5.1k

recently your name had become the talk of the small town that was los angeles — your social media was on the rise, and everything seemed to be aligning perfectly in your favor. your schedule was booked with campaigns and photo shoots, back to back, and most recently a collaboration of your own, curated, collection with a luxury lingerie brand in the city.

tonight was the collection launch party and while you may have been the hot topic, your parties were even hotter. the mere mention of your name was immediately followed up with rumors of your infamous parties.

leaning in just inches from your reflection, your lips naturally fell open as you touched up your mascara in the warm light of the powder room, humming softly to the song muffling through the walls downstairs.

holding onto the cool marble countertop, your other hand was preoccupied with a freshly stirred apple martini as you thoroughly scanned your face for any flaws or creases in your makeup. carefully laying your flyaways flat and smoothing any wrinkles in your outfit.

you had finally managed to slip away from the party, your party, for just a moment. between meeting new faces and engaging in small talk as you made your rounds throughout the venue, you desperately needed a breather to escape from the body heat rising thick into the air.

gently patting any signs of perspiration showing on your forehead with a paper towel, you tossed it in the trash before giving one final look. with a smile, you pushed through the door while ducking your head down to bring the full martini glass to your lips before your path was obstructed by something — or rather, someone, colliding directly into a broad, solid chest.

the force causing your drink to flow over the rim of the glass, dropping to the floor and spilling all over you and said chest on the way down. “shit” you cursed under your breath, the cold liquid instantly soaking into your clothes as your eyes trailed up at the person standing directly in front of you, also covered in apple martini.

“i’m so sorry, i wasn’t paying attention” you apologized, your eyes meeting theirs as your sentence slowly trailed off when you realized who you just spilled your drink all over. a brunette with blue eyes now filled with distress, one of the sturniolo’s, although you weren’t exactly sure which one.

“shit, no, that’s my bad i wasn’t looking” he apologized immediately, adjusting the black fitted hat on his head as he leaned down to pick up the empty martini glass.

both of your outfits stained with apple liqueur as your eyes were now down on his shirt “here, let me help you” you insisted, taking his hand beneath yours as you pulled him back into the powder room just a few feet behind you.

his hand naturally fitting beneath yours before dropping it to run a paper towel under the sink, handing it to him with an apologetic expression. “i’m really sorry, i was in such a rush i didn’t even bother looking up” you shook your head, embarrassed by your own careless clumsiness.

taking the paper towel, the brunette also shook his head with a low chuckle “i wasn’t looking either” he mumbled, his attention down on his shirt as he began to dab at the liquid soaking through the fabric. “so i guess we both fucked up” he continued, a smile pulling on his lips.

“i guess so” you giggled softly, turning to face the mirror as you examined the damage done to your outfit. while you were wearing all red, not nearly as bad as white, the dark stains still managed to show through the fabric. “shit” you mumbled under your breath, pulling the corset top up your chest as you ran a dry paper towel over the stains beginning to set.

chris stood a few feet behind you working on his own mess, the sound of your voice causing him to shoot you a glance through the mirror. “sorry, again, that’s my bad, i didn’t mean to ruin the ‘fit” he shook his head, his eyes falling back down to his shirt “or your night” he scoffed to himself, with a quiet chuckle.

“you didn’t ruin my night, trust me” you smiled reassuringly, your eyes up on him through the mirror as you glanced at the green stain forming down his white shirt. “if anyone ruined anything, it’s that shirt” you giggled, gently biting the inside of your cheek

“pfft this old thing? i was gonna toss it anyways” he teased sarcastically, knowing it was a brand new shirt. you couldn’t help but laugh at his comment, rolling your eyes with a smile “right” you mumbled softly.

the sound of muffled music playing from downstairs filled the room as you two stood in a comfortable silence. tossing the paper towel into the trash, your eyes scanned over your outfit before adjusting your top once more as it had been slipping down your chest throughout the night.

“hey, while i have you here — would you mind giving me a hand?” you smiled, your hands reaching around to the red ribbon weaved perfectly down your spine as it had worn loose over the past couple of hours.

his eyes slightly widening as he looked down the intricately laced corset, clearing his throat with a laugh “uh, i think you got the wrong guy to help you” he chuckled, shaking his head hesitantly before stepping towards the door “let me get my brother, he can help for sure” he mumbled quickly before you stretched your foot back to block the door, your platform now blocking his way.

“do you wanna make it up to me for ruining my night or not?” you teased with a playful pout on your lips, your eyes still on him through the mirror. “it’s not as scary as it looks, i promise” you shook your head with a laugh.

stopping in his tracks, his eyes shooting upwards towards the back of your leg, up your thighs, and briefly catching a glimpse of your ass as he finally looked at you through the mirror. “yeah but i don’t wanna fuck it up even more” he laughed again, slightly turning to face you now.

“oh, stop, will you just help me?” you rolled your eyes with a soft giggle, beginning to untie the ribbon laced into a loose bow at the bottom of your spine. chris nodded his head while stepping directly behind you, in front of the mirror, as his eyes worked down your back.

“just take these, and pull, okay?” you talked him through the two simple steps, holding out both ends of the ribbon for him behind your back as he slowly took them between his hands, his fingers briefly brushing over yours.

“just pull? that’s it?” he asked, his eyebrows slightly furrowing in confusion. “yessir, just pull” you smiled, looking at him through the mirror as you could have sworn you saw his lips quip up into a half-smirk at the name ‘sir’

“like tying your shoes, if you know how to do that — of course” you giggled, his face immediately falling at your words as he scoffed “yeah, don’t worry, i know how to tie my shoes” he playfully mocked, rolling his eyes as he began to gently tug at the laces.

your hands gripping the drop in sink for leverage as he continued to lazily pull at the ribbon “harder, please” you instructed as his eyebrows immediately raised, that same half-smirk now pulling farther up his lips “oh?” he chuckled.

your smile falling as you glared at his reflection “get your head out of the gutter” you rolled your eyes, your fingers gripping tighter around the sink to brace yourself as he nodded his head “yes ma’am” he obeyed sarcastically under his breath, finally giving the ribbon a forceful pull, causing you to stand up straight.

“there we go” you hummed softly under your breath with a smile. as his fingers worked down the ribbon, you inhaled heavily so he could cinch in the corset as tight as possible. “you’re one of the triplets, right?” you asked, breaking the few seconds of silence as you realized that you never formally introduced yourself to the stranger with his hands all over your back.

“mhm” he hummed softly, his attention still focused on the laces as he briefly shot you a glance through the mirror “chris” he smiled, the name immediately ringing a bell in your mind.

“oh, fresh love boy” you smiled, your feet slightly staggering backwards with every pull. chris chuckling softly as he attended to the task in front of him “yes ma’am, fresh love boy” he nodded his head, with a smile, trying his best to multitask.

only knowing that because his manager had recently gotten in contact with your own about getting you to shoot with the brand. also, throwing ideas back and forth about setting you two up on a couple of dates — for publicity reasons, of course, although you weren’t sure if he knew entirely about that last part.

the music downstairs continued to muffle through the walls as your fingers gripped tighter around the sink, holding yourself steady.

“did your manager tell you about that little publicity idea she had in mind?” you laughed softly, trying to fill the silence, your eyes on chris as he chuckled “yeah, i heard ‘bout it” he shook his head, his cheeks blushing a soft shade of pink.

“i didn’t wanna say anything, didn’t wanna make it awkward or anything ” he admitted, immediately recognizing who you were after he had spilled the drink all over you. it was your party after all and it was somewhat hard to miss the giant pictures of you in various lingerie sets scattered throughout the venue.

your faintly awkward laughs filled the air as a blush painted on both of your faces, flustered by the idea of a fake relationship — a fake date at that.

“kinda crazy, don’t you think?” you mumbled as he winced at your words, playfully hissing through his teeth “ouch” he began, now looking up at you through the mirror

“what’s so crazy ‘bout going on a date with me?” he acted offended, shaking his head as his eyes dropped back down to the corset.

“you know what i meant” you shook your head with a soft giggle as he took a step closer to get a better grip on the strings “i don’t know-” he began quietly, wrapping the ribbon around his knuckles before pulling the strings completely taut, with a purpose, causing your body to fall back into his chest.

you softly gasped for air as he pulled, your eyes slightly widening at him as your hands were still wrapped around the sink for support. “i don’t think it’s all that crazy” he continued mumbling, not at all fazed by your back being pressed flush against his chest as he looked up at your reflection.

you exhaled slowly, your cleavage now propped up on your chest as it rose and fell with your breathing. “oh yeah? why’s that?” you asked softly, your eyes flickering back and forth between his as that charming half smirk tugged at his lips again.

“i mean, look at you” he shrugged, his gaze scanning down your body through the mirror and back up to your eyes. your cheeks automatically blushing red as you felt a heat rise to your face, shaking your head with a smile as your eyes met. “are you flirting with me christopher?” you laughed, your lips slightly parted open as he reciprocated the smile.

“duh, i’d be fuckin’ stupid not to” he laughed confidently, not afraid to take the one chance he got alone with you all night. your cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red, immediately looking down as you didn’t want him to catch you getting flustered. “stop” you giggled, stepping forward against the counter to create a space between you again.

“i’m serious” he shook his head, his focus on the corset as he worked his way towards the bottom of your back now. “you’re a total knockout kid” he shrugged his shoulders once more as he pulled the ribbon even tighter, causing you to stumble back into his chest again, although this time around — you didn’t move, rather melt into his touch.

the compliments causing your face to heat up even more, blushing like an absolute idiot now as you smiled at him through the mirror. “chris” you whispered with a soft laugh, shaking your head non-stop at his words.

“what? i’m serious” he laughed, looking down at the minuscule gap between the both of you, slowly tying a small bow with the ribbon between his fingers “i mean, goddamn, look around, the proof is all over the walls” he chuckled.

you bit the inside of your cheek, his words genuinely getting to your head now as you remained silent, flustered, looking for the right thing to say. “everything about you, shit, like i said — i’d be stupid not to tell you how beautiful you are” he said with his tone low as he wrapped his fingers around the the bow, purposely pulling you into him, causing you to completely press against his chest and close the gap between you “even you know it” he mumbled

you shook your head, now staring up at him “keep talking like that pretty boy and they’re gonna have to come looking for us” you teased sarcastically with a laugh as he raised his eyebrows briefly, instantly flashing a grin.

“yeah?” he mumbled, lifting the black boston red sox fitted off of his head as he swiftly ran a hand through his hair, placing it on backwards now. his hands slowly trailing around the sides of your hips as he pulled your body back even farther into his frame. you gently tugged at your bottom lip, your eyes locked on his as you willingly let him run his hands over your waist.

chris lowered his head to press a slow kiss against your exposed shoulder, his lips lingering over your skin “did i mention your body? goddamn, that fuckin’ body of yours” he groaned under his breath, his hands slowly working around the front of your stomach now as you gently leaned into his touch, the back of your head resting on his shoulder.

“i was trying to leave with one of those posters out there tonight” he chuckled as you shook your head, giggling softly at his words “oh, shut up” you blushed, your eyes following his every movement in the mirror.

“i’m serious” he mumbled “you think those lil’ instagram posts of yours haven’t been driving me crazy too?” he continued, his tone low as he trailed his lips up your shoulders and towards your neck.

“i swear, even your hair is perfect” he laughed, using a hand to brush your hair to the other side of your neck to grant him more access to your skin.

“your back, so hot for no fuckin’ reason” chris muttered to himself, his breath hot against your skin. he brought both of his hands to your hips to hold you steady again as you turned your face to look at him, just inches away from his lips as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“and that face — that goddamn drop dead gorgeous face, kid, you’re killin’ me here” he flashed a smug half smile, pressing one last kiss against your neck as your stare remained on him. “chris” you mumbled, your hand reaching up to trail into the side of his hair peeking out beneath his hat.

“hm?” he hummed, silently enjoying the feeling of your fingers in his hair, tilting his head back as your eyes were locked in his soft blue ones. “enough of the smooth talk, do something about it already” you giggled as his smile pulled farther up his lips, slightly nodding his head “yes ma’am” he obeyed with a grin, lifting his right hand to wrap his fingers gently around your neck as he pulled your face closer, finally pressing his lips against yours.

tilting your head farther to the side, you reciprocated the intensity of the kiss as his left arm slid around the front of your waist, pressing your back flush against his chest. the muscle in his biceps peeking through as he held you still, your fingers trailing farther into his hair as you gently tugged the roots at the nape of his neck.

chris groaned softly through parted lips, allowing you to brush your tongue softly against his bottom lip. the grip of his fingers around your neck gently tightening as you felt his erection poke through his jeans, pressing against your back.

dropping his hands to your waist, he turned your body around to face him as your arms naturally wrapped around his neck. his hands tight on your hips as he stepped forward, gently pushing your back against the edge of the sink before lifting your body onto the counter without breaking the kiss.

your legs instinctively parting open for him to stand between them as he held a firm grip on your hips, his hands slowly trailing down the front of your thighs.

“how much time you got kid?” he mumbled against your lips, his breathing rapid with urgency and intimacy. slightly pulling away from the kiss, your eyelids fluttered open to look at him as your lips lingered against his, briefly shooting a glance down at your phone screen to check the time “a couple more minutes” you whispered, your breathing also ragged.

“bet” he groaned “all i need is five” his voice low and husky as he connected your lips once again. you nodded your head, your thighs gently spreading father open against the counter as he began to work on the belt sitting on his waist.

“nuh uh” he mumbled, shaking his head as he completely unbuckled the belt, the metal clanking as he moved his hands to your waist. your eyebrows slightly knitting together as he carried your body down off the sink, his hands dropping to your waist as he turned you around to face the mirror.

“gotta see that pretty little face while i’m hittin’ it” chris groaned, planting a kiss against your neck before smoothing his hand up your back and pushing forward, bending your upper half over the sink.

you nodded your head, slightly taken by surprise with a soft gasp, gently tugging at your bottom lip as he brought both of his hands to your ass, pushing your mini skirt properly up over your hips.

knowing the clock was ticking, chris worked with urgency as he slipped the black lace thong down past your thighs, lifting your feet for him to pull them off completely. tucking the little fabric into his back pocket as he quickly worked at the button of his jeans, pulling them down his hips as his fully hard cock sprung out beneath his boxers.

you breathed in heavily, glancing back over your shoulder at the sight behind you in the mirror as chris turned his face up to look at you.

“so pretty” he hummed softly, with a smug smile, before trailing his hand up your back, wrapping the ends of your hair around his knuckle as he gently pulled, causing your head to draw back. you softly gasped at the feeling as chris pressed his body against yours, his cock brushing against your ass as he leaned over your back. pressing another kiss against your neck, he held his hand beneath your mouth “help me out, yeah princess?” he groaned as you got the hint, letting a trail of spit fall into his fingers.

“atta girl” he cooed, his hand letting go of your hair as he stood up straight, wrapping his wet fingers around the base of his cock, giving a few pumps with a groan.

four minutes

chris’ free hand finding your body again as he gently pulled your hips back, lining himself up with your entrance, your elbows still against the countertop as he looked down at you through the mirror. “keep those pretty little eyes on me, alright?” he nodded his head before sinking his cock between your folds, without warning, causing an airy gasp to rip from your throat. your eyebrows knitting together with pleasure as his did the same, your lips immediately falling open at the feeling of his cock shoving tight between your walls.

you breathed out, your breath shaky as your hands gripped the sink to hold yourself steady. “oh my g-“ you moaned before feeling chris pound his hips into your ass, his cock burying deeper as he ripped another gasp from your lips, your tone airy and harsh.

“chris” you moaned as he wrapped both of his hands around your body, sinking your hips down onto his cock as he pushed his forward, falling into a rythm, completely fucking into you from behind.

you looked up at him through the mirror, both of your eyebrows knit together at the feeling, your walls nice n’snug around his cock. “so fuckin’ tight, feels perfect” he groaned to himself, his fingers gently digging into your skin as he looked down at your reflection through hooded lids, his eyes darkened over with lust.

his attention trailing down your back, your muscles flexing at the cardio as he trailed a hand down your spine, over the ribbon he had perfectly laced just minutes ago. pressing his hand farther down into your back as your chest pressed against the countertop, your tits pushed up on your chest. finally landing on your ass as he smacked his hand over your skin, his fingers gripping tight as you winced under your breath, your eyes squeezing shut.

slightly leaning forward over your back, his free hand reached around your shoulder to wrap his fingers around the front of your neck, pulling your chest up as he looked at you through the mirror. “that’s it, pretty girl, just like that” he groaned, talking you through it as his breath fell hot against your skin, his mouth lingering over your shoulder as he stared at your reflections.

watching the way your features scrunch up, fucked out, in the mirror as his cock only buried deeper in this position. his grip around your throat steady as his other hand held onto your hip, continuing to pull you back onto his dick as his bare hips slapped against your skin.

three minutes

“chris, jesus” you moaned softly as his eyebrows furrowed, slightly out of concentration and confusion “what’s a matter princess?” he grunted in a low tone, watching your every move in the mirror as he continued to pound into you from behind, causing your face to inch closer to the glass with every thrust. the sound of muffled music and your skin slapping against each other filling the room.

reaching his arm beneath your hips, he let his hand squeeze between your thighs as the tips of his fingers brushed over your clit, causing your legs to shudder at the feeling, your chest immediately falling against the counter with a loud whine. “fuck, chris—“ you cried, biting your bottom lip to suppress the sound of your moans filling the air.

“they can’t hear us up here” he groaned quietly, as he was right, the bathroom far from the rest of the party and the the music so loud, you could barely hear the person next to you.

“let me hear you make those pretty lil’ noises f’me” he encouraged, using his hand around your throat to pull your chest back up towards him, forcing you to watch yourself in the mirror, his breath ragged as his eyes remained fixed on your reflection.

slowly standing up straight, his fingers still around your throat and the other rubbing out circles against your clit, mentally taking an image of every inch of your body bent over the counter like this for him. your tits bouncing back and forth as he fucked you from behind, your face scrunching up so pretty when he hit your sweet spot.

you nodded your head through continuous breathy, whiny, moans as chris let go of his grip around your throat, causing your chest to fall forward, your cheek pressing against the counter top. using his hand to find your hip again, he held your body steady as your legs began to tremble under the pressure building in your stomach.

two minutes

“chris, i’m gonna cum, i can’t, please” you moaned, your cheek still pressed against the countertop as he watched you intently from behind.

his hand wrapped around your hip as he forcefully pushed his hips into you, your lower half repeatedly hitting the edge of counter “yeah? y’wanna cum for me?” he groaned, his tone hanging arrogant and heavy as the sound of your pleas only made him screw into you harder, wanting to hear you beg.

you watched as he fucked you through the mirror, his cheeks flushed and the brunette wavy hairs slicking to his forehead with sweat as it brushed over his eyes. his expression intense as the look in your eyes, pupils dilated and moans rolling off your parted lips, only making him want to fill you up even more.

you nod your head as his eyes were fixed on you, using the hand around your hip to palm your ass with a smack, eliciting a soft whimper from you. “say it, pretty girl, let me hear you” he groans, his fingers gripping the plush skin of your ass. your lips fall open, moaning out through short and quick breaths “i’m gonna cum chris, please — please, let me cum” you beg, your tone rising and falling in sync with the force of every thrust, tears of pleasure beginning to form in your eyes.

his fingers continue to rub circles against your raw clit, really trying to drive you over the edge now as your cries only work him up even more, paying no mind to them out loud “goddamn, you look so hot takin’ my dick like that” he breathed out, his voice low and sensual “good girl, doing so so good f’me, so tight around me” he groaned with a hiss as the sensitivity around his cock heightened, pounding into you and showing no signs of wavering.

your eyes practically rolling back in your head as you squeezed them shut, your thighs also squeezing around his hand as you couldn’t handle the overstimulation much longer.

“chris” you breathed out heavily one last time “chris, oh my god, i’m gonna cum” you moaned as his hands now trailed down your body, both of them meeting your hips as he used all his force to thrust into you.

“let go baby, go ‘head, cum for me” he groaned under his breath, taking everything in him not to cum at the mere sight of your face, so pretty, just inches from the mirror as he pounded into you.

his eyes down on your ass now as he watched his cock disappear, in and out, between your folds. his hand blindly trailing up to grip your shoulder for leverage, causing your back to arch farther into the counter as he pulled you down on him with force.

his cock finally hitting the spot to make you lose all your senses with a loud whine escaping past your lips as your fingers gripped the sink, your knuckles nearly turning white.

“chris” you cried, loudly, your eyebrows screwing together as you reached your climax, your back arching completely into the counter as the pressure in your stomach snapped, your eyes squeezing shut.

“that’s it princess” he groaned, the instant warmth of your orgasm pushing him near the edge as he continued to thrust into you, your cheek brushing back and forth against the countertop as he fucked you through the euphoric wave crashing over your body.

chris muttering curse words under his breath as his hand smoothed down your back, running his fingers over the laced ribbon down your spine. holding your hips tightly between his fingers as he continued to pull your limp weight against him.

“fuck, i’m gonna cum” he grunts quietly, his face concentrated as he tries to hold out for a few more seconds.

“inside, baby, cum inside, please” you plead, your tone shaky as he continues to pound into you “yeah? want me inside? want me to fill up that pretty lil’ pussy?” he groans, his voice hoarse as his thrusts become sharper and quicker, his eyes glued on you.

“please” you cry as he holds your hips steady, his fingers digging into your skin before finally snapping with that one last word, “shit—” he hisses, his eyes closing shut, quickly burying his hips into your ass, causing your body to hit the edge of countertop, your hips surely bruised from the impact by now.

a gruff groan escaping past his lips as he continues to roll his hips into you, lazily now as he obeys your commands, his cock twitching as his seed completely fills you up.

“fuck” he groans, his eyes fluttering open as his gaze is down on you through the mirror with a smug grin, his eyes roaming down the back of your body folded over on the countertop in front of him.

your chest rising and falling with every breath, trying to gain your composure as your mind is clouded with the orgasm still working it’s way through your system.

his hand gently smacking your ass as you wince again softly, eliciting a soft chuckle from chris. slowly pulling out, his cock falls limp against his thigh as he leans over your back, your chest still pressed against the counter as you try to catch your breath.

pulling his jeans back up over his waist, he quickly fixes his belt before chuckling again at the sight of your body limp over the sink.

“alright, c’mere party girl” he groans, his lips next to your ear as he quickly adjusted the fitted hat on his head, wrapping his arms beneath your body, around your waist as he slowly pulls your chest up straight.

you manage to stand up straight as he uses his hands to pull your skirt back down properly over your hips, smoothing over the wrinkles in the fabric he caused.

your back falling against his chest as he wrapped his arms securely around your waist, his biceps flexing as he holds you upright, your legs practically mush at this point.

resting his chin on your shoulder, he watches you through the mirror in admiration before pressing a kiss against your exposed shoulder.

“how you feelin’ princess? fresh love boy make your night any better now?” he chuckles softly, his tone cocky as he mocks your words from earlier. staring up at your reflection egotistically while his lips hover over your skin, trailing up your neck damp with sweat.

still not able to speak, barely even able to form a coherent thought as you nod your head, causing him to chuckle even more. “how much time we got left?” he whispers, his mouth now lingering near your ear as you watch him through the mirror, your hand lazily trailing into the back of his hair beneath his hat.

your arm wearily reaching forward to press the home screen, revealing he had plenty of time to spare — as you now realized, he only needed five minutes to make you cum.

notes! ⋆. 𐙚 ˚ can y’all tell i have a thing for backshots w chris 🫣 in honor of him saying he’s an ass guy (real). anyway, i wanna thank you all so much for 1k! i seriously cannot say thank you enough, for all the love and support, i love you all so much.

tags! ⋆. 𐙚 ˚ @watercolorskyy @joemamaaa42069 @luvergirlgi @hearts4sturniolo @chrizzpiecreme @dietcokenumberonefan @sofieeeeex @eyelovedher89 @mattslolita @mattscoquette @sirenedeslily @jetaimevous @cxokanna444 @hearts4sturniolo @myobscuredmindd @strnsweet @x0x0bunny

#©sweetangelgirl7 #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #chris smut #chris x you #chris x reader #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo #smut #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader

1K notes · View notes

darkbluekies · 3 months ago

Text

Intruder 2024 ver

Yandere!mafia OC x reader

Summary: finding a mystical USB in your bag leads to more danger you ever could have anticipated. It leads you straight into the arms of a well respected mob boss.

Warnings: gore, kidnapping, breaking in, chains, crime, yandere

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: I thought it could be fun to remake my first one-shot almost 2 years later to see how I have improved! I hope you like the new version♡

Your hands tear through the bag, impatiently looking for the lip balm that is somewhere in the mess of papers, water bottles, wallets and receipts. Your head is pounding, your back is sore and your fucking lips are dry and you can’t think of anything else. You grab the backpack and turn it upside down, shaking it violently until every little thing has fallen out. Receipts dingle down like snowflakes. The lip balm falls out on the wooden floor and when you bend down to take it, you notice that it’s lying beside something that you can swear that you have never seen before. A white USB. Confused, you turn it around, looking for some kind of indication to remind you of what it contains. No tape, no pen, nothing. You sigh and stand up. Before walking over to your computer to figure out what contains on the USB, you smother your lips in lip balm. It gets in your mouth, tasting buttery and putting a greasy layer on your front teeth.

You sit down in front of your computer, boot it up and press the USB into the right port. If you see what is on it, maybe you’ll remember what you have used it for. It takes a few moments before a file pops up at the bottom of your screen. You press on it and are met by multiple folders, all having cryptic titles.

When have I ever done this?

Is this a Friday night drunk act? It would be an answer to why you don’t remember anything about it. You decide to press on one of the folders. Pictures and videos. Hundreds of them. You click on the first picture. What meets your eyes puzzle you. For a few seconds you can’t even process what you are looking at. A mushy red sponge-looking … something. When it hits you that what you are looking at is a dead, mangled body you gasp and shoot your chair away from your desk. A wave of mixed fear, disgust and disbelief washes over you as millions of questions bash into your head. Panicked worries about where the USB came from, who was in the picture, how many more there are like this, why you have the USB and if you would get in trouble and. If you give the USB to the police, would they find you suspicious? Would they think that you had anything to do with this? And will the ones who owns this USB kill you for it?

You find yourself pacing back and forth in your room as your heart beats in your ears. What are you going to do? You have to get rid of it. Quickly.

You turn back to the computer and pull the USB out as quickly as if it was on fire. The grotesque picture disappears. You drop the white stick into your pocket, as if it was really in flames. Just holding it made you feel dirty. You wipe your hands on your shirt, expecting it to smear blood. Nauseous, you run to the bathroom. Despite washing your hands in water and soap until your heads become gnarly and sore, you feel as if you have murdered that poor girl yourself and nothing will clear you of what you have witnessed.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been in the bathroom, how long you’ve tried to wash yourself of sin and guilt. Suddenly, the front door’s lock seems to click. You freeze, listen closely. Perhaps it isn’t your door? You quickly find that it is, indeed, your front door creaking open. Quickly, you get into the bathtub and hide behind the curtain. Your entire body trembled.

“Little thing”, a deep voice sing-songs in what can only be interpreted as amusement. “I see that you have something that belongs to me.”

The voice is unfamiliar, which is only for the best. You’re able to locate him in your bedroom.

The click of a gun snapping in place makes you flinch against the ceramic tub. If he finds you, you will die.

“Don’t try to hide from me.” You can hear the evident smile in his voice. “I know that you are here somewhere. I saw you on that low resonate web cam of yours just ten minutes ago! I don’t have time to play hide and seek with you. The longer I have to look for you, the less fun it’ll be for you when I find you.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, praying that all of this is a horrible nightmare. Your chest is burning with fear. All you want is to scream and cry, plead and beg for your pitiful little life.

“Little thing, I know that you saw some gruesome stuff on that USB”, he says, his voice now drenched in false pity. “Don’t you want to get rid of that horrible filth, hm? I can take it off your hands. Just come out and give it to me and I will spare your life. What do you say?”

A silence follows. An excruciating silence that makes you want to claw out of your own skin. You prepare yourself to see him ripping the curtain away and putting a bullet through your skull.

“Oh, would you look at that?” His voice appears again, back to the amusement. “A call from your mother? Let’s answer, shall we?”

Panic goes through your entire body as you realize that he has your phone — and, indirectly, your mother, in his hands. You can’t let your family be involved in this! The more people who know, the more people will be in danger and the harder it will be to get out of this mess.

You hurry out of the bathtub, out of the bathroom. You make your way down the corridor and storm into your bedroom. The man is tall with hair as dark as night and when he looks over his shoulder you can tell that his eyes, as well, are as dark as his ruthless soul. He’s standing in front of the same computer you watched the picture on — the same computer he claims he saw you through. He smiles at you, a triumphed ‘i told you so’ smile.

“Please don’t”, you beg. “Don’t answer the call. Please.”

He clicks away the phone call before throwing the phone on the bed. He turns to you. He’s wearing a black suit.

“There you are”, he smirks and tilts his head. “You look much better in person.”

With trembling fingers you fish the USB out of your pocket and throw it at his feet. He looks at it for a few seconds, appearing clueless.

“Take it!” you shriek. “Take it and leave me alone!”

The man scoffs out a surprised laugh and lifts his eyebrows before slowly bending down and picking it up. He looks at it for a few seconds and then at you, meeting your eyes. They’re surprisingly calm.

“Please, just take it and go.” Your voice is barely audible.

The man stays silent for a few seconds before opening his mouth again. “I don’t think I can.”

“W-What? I haven’t done anything, I don’t know how it ended up in my bag, I didn’t steal it. I don’t even know when or how I got it.”

The man seems amused by your rambling. As if he’s hearing a little kid try to reassure their innocence in a sandbox fight.

“I know that you haven’t done anything”, the man calmly answers. “My man’s incompetence of carrying an USB is not your fault. But you have seen what’s on it. You know what it is, don’t you?”

“No”, you lie and shake your head.

He scoffs. “I saw you on your webcam. I know that you understood what was on it. Do you think I can just let you off the hook and walk straight to the police? Now that you’ve seen me too?”

You are going to die. Holy shit.

“I-I won’t tell anyone!” you stutter and start to back away from him. “I will pretend that I have never seen anything. No one will know. Please.”

Before you have time to run, he grabs your arm and pulls you back to him. You scream and try to fight back, but he’s bigger, stronger. He slams his hand over your mouth, forces your back against his chest. You sob and shake your head, your pleas getting muffled by his hand.

“Don’t cry, pretty thing”, he says. “It doesn't suit you.”

With that said, he pulls you out of the apartment. You can feel the gun in his pocket poking your back. You have never been this scared before, and have no idea what your body will do when it is this panicked. To your surprise, it decides to black out.

For a few seconds you're sure that you have dreamt the worst nightmare in your life, until you open your eyes and find that you aren't in your bed. You aren't even in your apartment. Quick eyes search around. A bunker or a basement. Those are your best guesses. Blood, both dried and fresh, covers the cement walls. You hurry to look around your body to make sure that none of the blood belongs to you. For the moment you seem to be unharmed. But for how long? You have chains around your wrists, ankles and throat to keep you in place. Like a dog. You repeat your name, your background and family in your head, just to not go completely insane. Will you ever see them again?

You damn that little piece of plastic and metal, wish that it would self-destruct and ruin that man's life. Such a little thing got you in such big trouble.

A door creaks open above you and your man starts to walk down the stairs to the basement. He's wearing a black buttoned shirt. He has something in his hands.

“Awake now?” he says.

You don't answer. He strolls over to where you're sitting and crouches down. He reaches out for you, removing some hair from your forehead. You will bite his fingers off if he doesn't keep them to himself.

You glare at him. You wish that your eyes could penetrate his skin and pierce his ice cold heart.

“What's your name?” he asks.

“Why do you want to know?” you ask carefully.

“It might be so that you'll have to stay here with me for a while. Telling me your name will make it easier for me to talk to you.”

“What's your name, then?” you ask.

He smiles, and the smile is almost soft. He seems amused by your counter question.

“Silas”, he says. “Achilleos.”

The name rings a bell in your brain. You've heard his name before. On the news. He's a mob boss. Your eyes widen. You really have screwed yourself beyond belief.

“My name won't hurt you”, he smiles.

“It's not the name I'm scared of”, you mutter.

“And your name?”

You hesitate. You know better than to give your name to a literal mob boss, but you also know better than to lie to one.

“Y/N”, you whisper, hoping that he won't hear and that you won't have to repeat yourself.

Silas makes himself more comfortable on the cold, hard floor. He leans on his arm.

“I have to say that I am genuinely sorry for this”, he says. “I don't like pulling innocent people into something they don't have anything to do with. Especially this kind of shit. I have more important things to do. My man stupidly dropped the USB into your bag and now that you have seen what's on it and know who I am, I can't let you go.”

Maybe you shouldn't have asked for his name.

“Normally, I would have killed you”, he says. “But I think that I'm going to keep you for a little while. You interest me.”

You lift your heavy, chained hands and cover your face. Sobbing. Silas removes your hands and lifts your chin up with his index finger.

“Let's make a deal, shall we?” he asks. “I will not hurt you … if you do as I say.”

“So I can't go home again?”

“No, because the second you put that USB in your computer, and I got the notification that someone had opened it, you’ve belonged to me.”

Beyond screwed isn't even enough to describe what you are.

“So?” Silas says. “Do we have a deal?”

What choice do you even have? You nod shortly.

“Good”, Silas says.

He reveals what he had in his hands when walking down the stairs. A small yogurt packet and a spoon. The text on the packet isn't in English.

“I used to eat this when I was a kid”, he says and opens the lid, giving it to you. “I guess that you're hungry.”

You shovel it into your mouth. It tastes like strawberry and is smooth in texture. It's first after eating it all that you remember who gave it to you and perhaps that you shouldn't have eaten it.

“No, I haven't poisoned it”, Silas scoffs. “Didn't I just tell you that I have planned to keep you alive?”

“You could have lied”, you whisper.

He scoffs again as he starts to remove the chains. The weight drops off of you like angel light. Silas pulls you up on your feet, buy your knees buckle the second you try to put pressure on them. Silas catches you and lifts you up in his arms. He carries you up the stairs, to a hall, and then up another flight of stairs. Your body aches.

Silas walks into a bedroom, dressed in modern interior design. You're placed down on a king sized bed, tucked in under heavy blankets. The crinkle of chains makes you flinch. Silas lifts an identical cuff to the ones you wore five minutes ago.

“This is just to keep you here”, he explains and places it around your wrist. “Sleep now.”

With that said, he walks out and leaves you alone. The door closes. You tug at the chain, but it's obvious that you'll stay there. Too tired to cry, you sink down on the mattress. Too alert to fall asleep you stare up at the ceiling. A thought crosses your mind, quick and easy, buy loud enough for your heart to ache. You have to get out of here before it's too late.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere oc x reader #yandere fics #yandere oneshot

1K notes · View notes

starkeysprincess · 3 months ago

Text

after lecture punishment

pairing: professor!rafe x reader warnings: sir kink, spanking, fingering, edging, praising, 18+ mdni

word count: 1.6k request: Hiiii! Can you write something with Professor!Rafe? Like where reader can't focus in class because of how sexy he is/ starts failing so he keeps her after class or something like that lol <3333

main m.list ⟡ rafe cameron m.list ⟡ taglist

“Fuck” you muttered to yourself, staring at your test result, the bright red ink that marked the paper with a ‘D-’.

When you first started the second semester of your junior year, you never thought in a million years that you would score anything lower than a ‘B’. You passed your previous classes with flying colors, but it looks like this class alone would be the one to damage your track record. If you were being honest, it’s not that you didn’t study or try hard enough, it was your lack of attention span. Your attention was focused on something else during lectures, or should you say someone.

That someone is none other than the man teaching your class, Professor Cameron. You couldn’t help it, you’ve always had a thing for older men and it didn’t help that he was the sexiest man you’ve ever seen. You were so engrossed with him, that you even noticed he wasn’t married, there wasn’t a ring adorning his left ring finger.

You were disrupted from your thoughts when you heard rustling around you, looking to see your classmates packing their belongings into their bags. You shove your test into your binder, standing up as you gather your items. Your feet carried you towards the door, passing Professor Cameron’s desk before you felt a hand brush against your arm as he called out your name, following with “Could you walk with me to my office? I have a few things to discuss with you”. You watched as your classmates dispersed out of the room before turning your head, looking at him, and nodding.

You walked behind him, following him like a lost puppy as he led the way to his office. His name plaque mounted near his office door, glinting from the lighting, catches your eye. He twists the doorknob, opens the door, and steps aside to let you in, his eyes shamelessly glued to how your hips swayed as you walked in. He follows behind you, shutting the door, and gesturing for you to sit at the chair in front of his desk.

“I couldn’t help but look at your transcript and noticed you’re an honor student, is that right?”, Professor Cameron leans back against his desk, standing in front of you, crossing his arms over his chest, his biceps bulging against the sleeves of his white button-up. “Uh, yes, sir” you mutter, feeling yourself fidget with your skirt. His eyes fixate on your skirt before he clears his throat, “Your grades for the past few semesters are impressive but coming into this class, I have yet to see the honor student in you”.

“You do understand that your grade in this class is on the verge of failing, correct?” he questions, to which you sheepishly nod, “Is there something going on outside of class affecting your learning?”. You nervously bounce your leg up and down, “No, sir. I’ve just been distracted, that’s all”. Professor Cameron’s face turns into a look of amusement, “Distracted? What’s makin’ a smart girl like you distracted?”.

Your face flushes with embarrassment, “It’s nothing”, you mumble, watching as Professor Cameron rolls his sleeves up, his hands moving behind him, settling on his desk, “Nothin’? If it was nothin’, you wouldn’t be on the verge of failing my class. I’ve been watching you during my lectures, you’re a good girl. You wouldn’t lie, would you?”.

“N-no”, you lied, stuttering as he observed your face, taking in your reaction, as if he was trying to detect if you were lying. He lets out a ‘tsk’, standing up and pinching your elbow between his fingers, pulling you out of the chair and into his chest. “Thought a smart girl like you would know better about lying” he shakes his head, “I can’t help you with your grade unless you tell me what’s been distracting you. That, or I’ll have to get it out of you, it’s your choice, sweetheart”.

When you don’t give him an answer, he pushes you against his desk, forcing you to bend over. He grabs your hands, pinning them onto the top of his desk with one hand. His voice is gruff, “Alright, you made your choice, guess I’ll have to get it out of you”. His rough, large hand pushes your skirt up your hips, revealing your thong and your heart is pounding in your chest, anticipating his next move.

His hand runs along the curve of your ass, kneading at the flesh before he pulls his hand back and delivers a sharp smack. You yelp at the contact, squirming to get your wrists out of his hold, and it only makes him bring his hand down again, the sound echoing in his office. His signet ring catches against your skin with each smack he’s given. “Remember, you made your choice. You could be a good girl and tell me what’s been distracting that pretty little head of yours and I’ll stop…or, you don’t and I’ll have to keep punishing you” he warns, reminding you with another smack to your reddening ass.

He releases his grip on your wrists, “Keep them on the desk” his voice was stern, giving you no room for argument. Rafe’s hands cup the globe of your ass, spreading your cheeks apart, “Then again…I think you’re enjoying this” he chuckles to himself, his eyes locked on your arousal staining a wet patch onto your thong. He hooks his finger into your thong, tugging it to the side, your glistening cunt on display for him.

A gasp can be heard from you the second you feel his spit running along your folds before he spreads it across your lips, his signet ring-clad finger prodding at your hole. “As long as you tell me, I’m more than willing to help you with anything you need”, his words indicating he wasn’t talking about your grades.

His thick digit pushes into you, your warm, wet walls sucking him in and he can’t help but groan at how tight you feel around his finger. “So fuckin’ tight, gonna have to stretch you out” his words ringing in your ears as he adds another finger, slowly pumping them in and out. You scoot yourself back, trying to stand up but he’s quick to press his palm on your lower back, holding you there as his fingers move faster. You moan at the delicious sensation of the coolness his signet ring creates as it bumps at your clit with each thrust of his fingers.

Your slick coats his fingers, practically soaking them, filling his office with the wet, squelching sounds of his fingers brutally thrusting into you. “Can’t have you gettin’ too loud on me, sweetheart”, his hand reaches around, and clamps down on your mouth, muffling your moans of pleasure when he curls his fingers, hitting at your g-spot. He removes his hand from your mouth, snaking it between your legs to rub at your clit. He can sense you’re close, your inner walls contracting, and gripping his fingers.

You whine out in frustration when you feel his fingers slowing down. Rafe pushes himself forward until his chest is flush against your back, his weight pressing you further onto his desk, “Wanna know what I think?” his warm breath tickles your ear. “I think your pretty little head is distracted and full of filthy thoughts”, his thumb slowly circled at your clit, “Filthy thoughts of me”.

You shake your head, not trusting your voice, “No? So you don’t press your thighs together, trying to relieve the throbbing need for me when you see me? You don’t think about being bent over my desk like you are right now?”. He doesn’t miss the way you clench around his fingers at his words, “S’okay to admit it”, he coos, his fingers picking back their speed while his thumb circling on your clit faster.

“P-Please, sir”, you stutter, your hand moving to hold onto his arm between your legs as you’re on the brink of an orgasm, the same orgasm that he ripped away from you. “Please what?”, he taunts, “Please let me cum”, you plead, tears welling in your eyes. His fingers slowed their movement, edging you once again, “No can do. You’re a smart girl, you know what I want to hear”.

“C’mon, sweetheart, just tell me what’s been distracting you in my class and I’ll let you cum, yeah?” He mutters, already knowing the source of your distraction but wanting to hear you admit it. “Be a good girl and I’ll have you makin’ a mess on my fingers in seconds, I promise” He adds.

“You’ve been distracting me” You hiccup as you admit what he’s been wanting to know. “Yeah? How?” He taunts, his fingers relentlessly pumping in and out of your cunt with ease, curving his fingers, repeatedly thumping at your g-spot, “Been distracting you so much that little head of yours can’t think of anything except the thought of me bending you over, stuffing you full of my cock?”.

“Yes” you lazily nod, your head feeling dizzy and your response is good enough for him, “Go on, cream all over my fingers”. Your cunt flutters around his fingers, legs trembling, almost giving out as you come undone all over his fingers. “Good girl, see, that wasn’t so hard” He praises, slowly moving his fingers, helping you come down from your high. He withdraws his fingers from you, pulling them into his mouth, sucking them clean, “Fuck…been wanting to know what that sweet cunt tasted like”

You shakily stand up, smoothing out your skirt to fix your appearance when Rafe pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head up to look at him, “From now on, I want you to be under my mentorship, alright?” he mumbles, his thumb brushing at your bottom lip, the corner of his lip twitching upwards at your response, “Yes sir”.

tagging: @oceandriveab @babygorewhore @xxbimbobunnyxx @rafesthroatbaby @annoyingassleo @drudyslut @sturnioloshacker @redhead1180 @shawtycoreee @starkeyisthelastname @hallecarey1 @heartsforvin @eddieslut69 @bimbotrashcan @bunnyrafe @kisses4angel @hyperfixationgirl @emilysuperswag @flvredcas @usergeta @rafeinterlude @rafecameroninterlude @starkeysheart @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @fae-of-prey @amandabbbbb @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @spid6y @chimindity @spacexdrago @honeybunniesoobin @juniebugg @wearemadeofstardust0 @blckbrrybasket @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @chrislapdog @dark1paradise @nemesyaaa @rafescurtainbangz @zyafics @ijustwanttoreadlols

1K notes · View notes

malereadermaniac · 4 months ago

Text

Smug and Rough ~ Wriothesley x Male Reader

His Grace has taken a liking to you - personally inviting you to his office gets thoughts rushing through your head Top!Wriothesley x Bottom!Reader Word count: 3.6k Nsfw / MDNI ~ amab m!reader / FDNI

It was common knowledge around the Fortress that The Duke had his favourites; however some people had noticed that you were placed at an even higher esteem by his grace than even the renowned Traveler and Paimon. Every single time that Wriothesley would walk into a room he would scan for you, and if your eyes met his, The Duke would ensure to greet you by name - something that other inhabitants of the Fortress had never experienced. Moments of small talk were frequent between you and the handsome man, along with being given small benefits, such as finishing your work day early, seemingly for no reason - however, unlike yourself, those around you quickly realised that rather than randomly being taken a liking to, The Duke was flirting with you instead...

You were shockingly oblivious to this however, which is fair as why would THEE Duke flirt with some petty criminal? But c'mon, it was so evident that Wriothesley was pulling out all the tricks in the bag to try to woo you! Small talk with him was always full of compliments on your looks or work ethic being thrown your way, and the body language between you two was straight out of a romance book; the taller man placing a strong hand on your shoulder and giving you the sexiest smile ever while telling you 'Your hands are too soft n pretty to be workin' for so long, take the rest of the day of'. Eventually, you had noticed the handsome man's advances, but you chose to ignore them, justifying Wriothesley's actions by way of you being delusional after catching feelings for The charming Duke; and how couldn't you of caught those feelings, this man's the whole package! Not only is Wriothesley physically attractive (with his taller, broader figure, masculine, veiny hands, muscular body and smug, sexy attitude and what not) but this man is THEE DUKE! Wriothesley is a powerful man (and he sure acts it), he owns a prison and has all these people act like submissive bitches around him, he gets paid a hefty sum and has his own building - how could you not get the hots for him!?!? But you kept those feelings inside, following your better judgment to keep them for lonely moments late at night, inside your quarters and in the comfort of your own bed...

That was until you were called to his grace's office one night. Standing in front of his office door, you feel tiny; the massive door daunting as thoughts rush through your head about what this 'meeting' could be about, are you in deep shit?! KNOCK KNOCK. You didn't mean for it to be so loud, but judging from the muffled 'Come on in!' it didn't seem too loud on the receiving end. After pushing open the door, you make your way inside of The Duke's office - noticing its size is smaller than how the outside of the building makes it seem - your eyes immediately look towards Wriothesley, who is sitting at his desk, writing on some paper. The striking man merely spares you a glance, however, once he computes that it's you inside of his office, The Duke stands up from his desk right-away and gives you a smile. "(Y/n)! Welcome to my humble office, I'm honoured" The Duke says with a wide smile as he walks around to the front of his desk and leans against it. "I should be the honoured one, Your Grace" you say with a small, nervous smile - not only is his social stature making you nervous, but his rolled sleeves showing off his muscles and scars, and his sharp-featured face are too. "Heh... I suppose so, you look rather nice tonight - as always" Wriothesley compliments, his words shooting you in the heart with Cupid's arrow, making your face feel hot. The Duke looked incredible tonight, the lighting of his office showing off every strand of his dark hair, his white streaks shining and accentuating his attractive hairstyle. The ravenette's masculine body was just barely on display for you, his rolled sleeves teasing you with His Grace's muscular arms, and his gloves having been removed for the night ensured that you could get an eyeful of Wriothesley's rough, veiny, and large hands; The Duke's body language was also incredibly attractive, his leaning figure and sexy smirk as you ramble about your day after being asked was making your brain short circuit, and damn his nonchalant and attractive voice was what really made the blood rush to your head(s)!

After talking for a little while, once the current conversation was coming to a close, you decided to fill the comfortable (yet nerve-racking) silence with the question that has been on your mind all day. "Pardon my abruptness, Your Grace, but may I ask why I've been called to your office tonight?" You ask, sounding very prim and proper as to feel somehow on The Duke's level "Surely you couldn't be that oblivious? With the way i look at you? And the special attention I give you? Haha" Wriothesley chuckles to himself, finding your innocence and oblivious nature cute and amusing. And after a moment of silence from you, within which you gave an even more endearing confused look to The Duke, he decided to clear things up for you. "Come here and I'll let you in on a secret, (Y/N)" Fuck, you liked to hear your name come out of his mouth; Wriothesley sure knows how to get you to listen, cause you were following him like a puppy. With Wriothesley back in his chair, you stood in front of him, his knees on either side of your legs as you look down expectantly at the handsome man, who looks up right back at you with a sexy smile and a glimmer in his eyes. "I have a crush on you~" Wriothesley says in a lowered voice, dragging out the 'you' to comedically sound like a schoolgirl confessing her love. "Hmph.. That's not funny, Your Grace-" you mumble, your heart-panging from the idea of the man you kinda have a thing for making a joke about that . You tried to move away from The Duke, however his large, sexy hand on your waist and the other holding your hand as he looked up at you prevented you from doing so "Stop calling me that. You can save that for the bedroom if you'd like, I'm not one to judge, but call me Wriothesley, darling" Your mouth went slightly agape at his interruption, your heart-rate increasing at the mere idea of Wriothesley reciprocating your feelings. "And I'm not joking, I've waited for this moment since the day I first met you... properly at least hah" The Duke chuckles, a smile still on his face as he brings your body closer to his, his head now resting against your abdomen as he looks up at you - FUCK HE LOOKS SO HOT! "Well... then I suppose the feeling's mutual..." you say with a chuckle, your head turning away from The Duke's as a warm heat fills your face. A wide smile makes its way onto Wriothesley's face at your response, his heart racing at the idea of finally being able to be with you after a long time of yearning and quiet pining. "Then I assume we should confirm our relationship in one way or another, don't you, my darling?" Wriothesley says with a sexy grin on his face as he removes his head from your body and instead maneuvers you to sit on his lap; manhandling you with absolute ease.

At least half an hour had gone by, that time having been spent with you on Wriothesley's lap; his strong arms wrapped around your waist, not only making sure you can't leave, but also holding your chest against his with the perfect tightness. Your crotch slowly grinding against The Duke's as your sounds of pleasure are eaten up by Wriothesley, whose lips were sealed against yours, his tongue swirling around your own and exploring your warm mouth as you both eat up each other's moans, groans, and whimpers of pleasure; courtesy of your dryhumping. Your fingers threaded through the taller man's locks as you kept your arms around his neck for support, and more soft, breathy moans escaped your lips when Wriothesley unraveled his muscular arms from your waist and moved his huge hands to grip and play with your ass. To prevent literally suffocating, your pushed your hands against The Duke's (fucking huge) chest in order to break the kiss; a thick string of saliva keeping your now plumped lips from Wriothesley's - the look on your panting, blushed face turning the man on, and the horny, hungry, panting look on Wriothesley's face turning you on. "Ha... Ha... Wanna take this... Ha.... to my quarters?" The disheveled man proposes, his hair ruined from your fingers and sticking to his sweaty forehead "Damn right I do~" You manage to get out, your lungs still searing with a desperation for oxygen. With that, Wriothesley stood up from his chair, his hands still on your ass to hold you up; your arms darting back around his neck as your legs do the same to his slutty little waist. The muscular man made his way to a door in his office and kicked the door open, locking it behind him after putting you down; now the smaller office makes sense, this man has A WHOLE BEDROOM INSIDE OF IT!

You take the opportunity to look around his room while Wriothesley locks the door - the last thing the man wants is his assistant or Sigewinne walking in. It was a nice room, simple; a couple of decorations hung up on walls, a window with documents on the sill, a king sized bed with fresh sheets, and two nightstands with some random items on them like a picture frame, a Kamera, and some books. Your brief observation of Wriothesley's room was quickly interrupted by the man himself, a brief mumble of the word 'nosy' escaping his lips as his arms envelope you once more and his lips return to their rightful place; on yours. You can feel your heart beat like crazy as blood rushes to all parts of your body, Wriothesley moving the two of you to his bed as he continually makes out with you; the two of you ending up on his bed very quickly, with you laying on your back and Wriothesley hovering over you, still kissing you. The man above you hastily removes your clothing, kissing down your body with every article of clothing he takes off of you, leaving small marks to cover and claim your body as his. Eventually, you are left completely naked below The Duke, his gaze roaming your body as he hovers above you, simply admiring you - and once he's had his fill, Wriothesley sits up on his knees above you and strips his own body of clothing, practically giving you a little show as he removes his top first to reveal his KILLER body, and then removes all else to finally show off his monster of a cock. "Heh... Like what ya' see, pretty boy?" Wriothesley says in a smug tone, giving you a sharp smirk as he looks down at you drooling over his veiny, thick, 7inch dick, as well as his rock hard 6-pack and plump pecs.

Preparing you didn't seem to take long, the two of you enjoyed every second of it so it probably took longer to loosen your hole than it felt like. Wriothesley couldn't take his eyes off of your hole, the way it tightened around his thick fingers and winked at him making his dick twitch - and you were a hot mess, moaning like a pornstar and moving your limbs uncontrollably on Wrio's bed due to his long, thick fingers fucking your hole loose and curling into your prostate. But the real fun started when Wriothesley knelt on his bed between your spread legs and placed one on each of his thick, muscular thighs; positioning his girthy dick at your hole. Starting slow, Wriothesley thrusts his dick in and out of your tight hole, his sexy voice groaning from the feeling of your warm, gummy walls around his dick; on the other hand, below the handsome man, you're moaning in rhythm with Wriothesley's thrusts, breathy whines and moans of The Duke's name escaping your throat every time his slightly curved cock pushes against your prostate. Once the desperation caught up to Wriothesley's however, things took a turn, his pace increasing in speed and in roughness as the muscular man grips your thighs with his strong hands and starts drilling his dick in and out of you, forcing your back to arch up off of the bed from the pleasure from your ass. As Wriothesley's cock pounded its shape into your hole more and more, you lost more and more control over your body; the pleasure The Duke was providing you with making your writhe in pleasure on his bed, gripping at the sheets and rolling your entire head back onto the bed, letting Wrio only see your jaw and tongue hanging out of your mouth, a view which only turned the man on more. Pleanty of praise and compliments fell out of The Duke's mouth, calling you good and pretty and tight, moaning your name out like a mantra as Wrio's thrusts became borderline sadistic, his cockhead pounding against your prostate with every thrust, milking you of precum. As the two of you kept fucking, your moans became louder and sluttier, turning Wriothesley on more and more; the view below him, of your back arched, limbs twisting, tongue hanging out, dick twitching just added on to Wrio's aching desperation for you - so much so that the man felt inclined to ensure he never forgets this moment. In the heat of the moment, Wriothesley found himself grabbing the Kamera on his nightstand and holding it out to take a selfie from above, snapping a sexy picture of his dick fucking your ass like crazy with you writhing like a bitch in heat, a condom packet in his mouth for an artistic touch (this man is so extra). You couldn't even register what was happening, your focus being on the fact that Wriothesley stopped fucking you in order to look at the freshly printed picture, so, you whine about it "Wriothesley..~ Put that down and keep makin' love t'meee" you say in a tone resembling a drunkard - which you may as well of been, Wriothesley getting you cockdrunk on his veiny dick. And this man wasn't going to say no to you - especially after being denied this pleasure for so, so long... The Duke had covered many different positions with you, having fucked you silly in doggy (with your back nearly breaking from arching down to the bed as Wrio held your arms back, shoving your face into the bed) and even fucking you in missionary for a romantic little break. Your ass was in plenty of pain after a solid 45 minuets of fucking, having been stretched out from Wrio's monster cock, your lungs were out of breath and your poor dick had been milked for all it was worth, small droplets of cum leaking out of your tip with every single one of Wriothesley's vigorous thrusts - you had already came, Wriothesley had not... HEY! This man is real good at sex, of course you'd orgasm before him!

But once the two of you had finally finished up, you both basked in the after glow; Wriothesley more so, who was feeling euphoric after shooting his thick load inside of your tight walls, you on the other hand were more so basking in the freedom from overstimulation... You were both laying on Wrio's bed, catching your breathes and cuddling - Wriothesley's big arm around your waist as his bare chest rested alongside your back. "So then... How would you rate your experience?" Wriothesley asks, a smile on his lips as he still feels happy tingles all over his body, his eyes roaming over your naked, marked up body "A one... My ass fuckin' hurts so bad!" You remark, the pain in your ass coming to the forefront of your brain now that all the pleasure had dissipated "Aww~ does that mean my dick is big?" Wriothesley teases you, his dick already starting to harden again from the thought of him overwhelming you with his size "Shut up... you were real rough too, not that I hated it" You mumble, but in the comfortable silence of Wriothesley's bedroom, he could hear every word of yours "Yeah? Let's go again then, promise I'll be gentle this time, pretty boy~" The now raw, and rugged man chuckles from his remark, his arm now removed from your waist and his hand now instead spreading your cheeks and his masculine fingers gently playing with your rim, his cum leaking out slowly "I'll even use my tongue if you want" The man adds, the horny thought coming to him straight from his now fully re-hardened dick You couldn't deny the fact that his suggestion definitly sounded apealing - and that's how the two of you ended up going for another, more chill round of oral! In order to let you recover, Wriothesley stuck to his word and ate you out. This man made you all comfortable in his bed, put hundreds of pillows behind your neck and back, he laid between your legs and went to fucking TOWN. Your fingers were tightly pulling on the man's fluffy hair as Wrio lapped at your loose hole, shoving his tongue inside and pushing the warm, wet muscle against your walls as his thumb rubbed your rim gently, his other hand either spreading your cheeks for easier access or jerking off your dick. To say you were back to a moaning mess would be an understatement; you were in so much pleasure, Wriothesley can really use his damn tongue! This man didn't even give two shits that he could still taste himself inside of you, he just used his spunk as lube to get his tongue inside of your hole easier! As your moans of his name became louder and breathier, and your dick twitched in The Duke's rough hand, Wriothesley knew you were just about to cum once more - so this man took his hand from your spreading your cheeks and rubbed your underthigh soothingly, working you through your orgasm as his tongue assaulted your prostate and his veiny hand gently jerked you off. With a loud, lewd slurp of his spit, Wrio sat up from your tasty hole and looked as you in your afterglow-ish state - his hair messy and his chin covered in his spit n cum "Ha... You enjoy that... Ha.. Sweet-thing?~" Wriothesley mumbles, his voice dripping in sex and smug. "Ha.... fuck yeah... I did" you say in between laboured breathes "Care toooo... Repay the favour?" The handsome man says with a chuckle as he holds his massive dick at the base and swings it around.

The sounds echoing around the room were even more obscene and filthy than before. You were positioned on your knees on the floor, at the foot of Wriothesley's bed, The Duke sitting on the edge of his bed with his fat cock shoved inside of your throat. You pleasantly surprised the tall man with your oral skills, being able to take a dick like his was not exactly easy as pie, but you sure made it work! What you couldn't take your hands would work on, and what was in your mouth felt heaven on earth, your mouth warm, wet, and slimy as your tongue bathed and cleaned Wrio's dick - his leftover cum from early along with his natural musk tasting salty yet so fucking addictive. Loud slurps echoed from your mouth as your spit trickled down The Duke's girthy cock, down his veins and covering his thick, scarcely pubed balls which were resting against your chin (in-turn covering your chin in spit n leftover cum). The other lewd sounds harmonising with your own were from Wriothesley himself, groans of pleasure and moans of your name ringing pleasurably inside of your ears as Wrio's fingers tightly held your hair, making you look even more disheveled and slutty as you gagged on Wriothesley's shaft. Eventually, you felt a warm stream of thick jizz shoot inside of your mouth, Wriothesley moaning above you as his naked body shined from his sweat and the lighting of the room; he looked fucking godly. And as the panting, blissful-looking man held your head up with his hand, he pulled his fat cock out of your mouth; Wrio ensured that you didn't swallow yet, wanting to see his cum in your mouth, holding your face up to look him in the eyes while you struggled to keep his thick cum from falling out of your mouth. SNAP another picture taken with his Kamera, this time of you on your knees, his finger forcing you to 'smile' as his thick spunk coveres your teeth, lips and tongue; his hairy thighs n feet, as well as half of his semi-hard dick making a cameo alongside you. The kinky Duke grins and chuckles as he looks at the freshly printed picture, then looks back at you; who still has his cum in your mouth. "I suppose this makes us official now, huh?" Wriothesley says with a grin, squishing your cheeks with his rough thumb and other fingers to make you swallow. You grimace physically at the feeling and taste, but give him a breathy 'yeah... If you want I guess', teasing the handsome man above you.

1K notes · View notes