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#honestly my thighs are purple
I can tell I'm back playing rugby, I'm covered in bruises again 😭😅
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graphicpepsi · 28 days
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apologize (nsfw, mdni)
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OR: what happens when zaddy könig gets jealous?
you honestly hadn't meant it.
Gliding your fingers against his forearm, batting your pretty eyelashes up at him as you laugh at whatever mediocre joke he made, twirling your soft hair in-between your delicate fingers. It's just how you acted, that's all. You get flustered when strangers talk to you.
But to your 6'10 military boyfriend, it was everything but unintentional.
"You imagine him fucking you like this? huh? This what you wanted?"
König slams into you, mercilessly, ignoring the way tears stream down your puffy cheeks. His fingers curl around your throat, squeezing just enough to make you start to slip.
"Köni, Kö-"
"Quiet," He snaps his hips back into you, his forearm flexing above you as he braces himself with the headboard.
He fucks into you so hard, your eyes want to roll back with every thrust. You're certain he's leaving bruises all over your ass with how hard he's pounding you.
You claw at his back, desperately, and surely you're leaving bruises.
You honestly didn't mean for this to happen- but the look he gave you after you had laughed at the strangers joke- patting his chest innocently- sent daggers into your soul, and you knew you were getting to him.
From then on it was a game for you; how much could you get away with? You were absurdly nice to every guy you came across, smiling at them without prompt and biting your lip half-heartedly.
It was when you bent down sweetly to grab something off the bottom shelf for an older gentleman that König had enough.
The whole car ride home you had been silent, his knuckles turning white from how hard he's gripping your thigh.
Now, those same knuckles were being fucked into your mouth, muffling your pathetic whines. Drool was running down your chin, drizzling over the hickeys that littered your neck. You were fighting to keep your eyes locked on his.
He grunts above you, almost angrily. Your pussy squeezes around him desperately, the tip of his dick hitting your pillowy cervix delicately.
God, you love it when he's mad; his angry clock slamming into you, gagging you with his fingers, his other hand curled around your throat. Fuck, you can still feel the sting of the deep purple hickeys he had chewed into your neck in the parking lot.
You can see the outline of his dick in your abdomen as he pounds into you.
"Schatz." König's voice snaps your attention back on him, "Eyes on mine." He practically growls when your eyes flutter shut with ecstasy, landing a hard slap to your ass.
"König, I'm gonna-"
"Beg for it, doll."
You whine, clenching down on him.
"Please let me cum König, please, please 'm so fucking, please-" You start to babble, incoherent nonsense spilling out of you as he fucks into you harder.
"You think you deserve to cum? Flirting with other men all day?" König slows his thrusts down, staring into your eyes with a mixture of lust and envy.
"m 'sorry, Kö, 'm so sorry please let me cum," You whine, your pussy nearly hurting with how it's being abused.
"You're sorry, Schatz? Fucking pussy belongs to me, ja? Cum on my dick, love."
His voice softens when he sees your pained expression. His pretty thing needs to cum. He slams into you, hard and fast, vibrating his thumb against your clit. His fingers are still wet from when they were down your throat, and the hot wet feeling against your puffy clit sends you over the edge.
You cum on his dick, back arching into him as he fucks you through your orgasm. You can feel him shoot hot stripes of cum onto your stomach moments later.
You're panting into his neck, arms wrapped around his back for stability. He pulls out of you softly before pressing open-mouthed kisses down your neck, comforting the angry bruises he left earlier.
"Did I hurt you?"
His voice is so fragile by your ear you almost missed it.
"No, Kö, I loved it." You whisper, rubbing over the hot red scratches you left on his back.
He presses a kiss to your forehead.
"No more bullshit, ja?" He pulls away from you. "This is mine," He slaps your pussy hard, "Belongs to me." He rubs your overstimulated clit for a moment before laying down next to you, tugging you on top of him.
You happily snuggle into the crook of his neck, bare tits flush against his chest.
Those hickeys stayed for weeks, and König didn't let you cover them up once. He just looked at you through dangerous, lidded eyes, threatening to leave darker ones on your jaw if you covered up the ones on your neck.
You couldn't deny you loved it; loved being marked by him, marked as his-
Maybe you'd make König jealous more often..?
A/N: id sell my entire family if it meant i could smell him ngl. hope y'all liked this one if u want me to write sumth lmk! still sorta new to tumblr
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elllisaaa · 19 days
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crazy question but i need to know… when is the sex better - when sunghoon is being jealous or when you are the one being jealous?
i’m always here yapping about him, but you only fuel my love and affection for him and i love it, i can never get enough <3
not a crazy question at all honestly, it's pretty sane coming from you AND considering you're talking about sunghoon sweetie.
SUNGHOON + JEALOUS SEX feels good anyway.
when he's the one being jealous, it's undoubtedly rough and incredibly mean. he's calling you a slut, holding your hands or hips, edging you until you're crying and your makeup is all ruined, fucking your mouth until your jaw is stiff as hell, pounding into your cunt until your legs go numb and the only thing you're able to do is to beg him to let you cum and have mercy on you. the whole time, sunghoon has a smug smirk on his face, his fangs peeking out when he coos at you when you're screaming out his name, and everything is doing is so attractive, and he's so composed when you're a mess it's maddening in the best way possible. when sunghoon is jealous, he's ruining you and fucking you into next week but it all feels so good you won't ask him to stop.
"fucking slut, couldn't even wait an hour you had to touch me some other men in public right ? acting like a bitch in heat just because you need someone to fill your tight little cunt all the damn time. brace yourself doll, i'm not letting you cum until you remember who you belong to."
but in my opinion, it's even better when you're the one getting jealous. first of all, sunghoon loves it when you stand up for yourself or get mad because you look especially hot when you're in this state. in these moments, he's proud that you're his girlfriend, but he's even more proud of the fact that he's yours. so when this energy is directed to the waitress who has been checking him out and blatantly flirting with him the whole time you've been here, even if you had made it clear he was taken, sunghoon loves it even more. the way your hand is sitting on his thigh when she comes back to bring your desserts is your way to claim him and he loves it, but what turns him on even more is the way you're telling her to back off because she could never satisfy him like you could. and that's true, but the fact that you know it makes his smile widen as he listens to your rambling while you're eating.
whenever you're feeling like this, you cannot wait to be home to remind your boyfriend that you own him too. you just have to sit on sunghoon's lap in the car, kissing him hungrily and taking over his tongue, devouring his mouth. and sunghoon lets you take the reins gladly, his hands resting on your hips but not forcing you to move because you're the one in control this time. "she can't take a fucking hint, gotta have to remind everyone that you're mine baby." - "go on doll, do whatever you want with me."
and that was all you needed to mark down his whole neck with hickeys and bite marks, grinding down on his boner and making him moan. your possessiveness excites him even more, and by the time you're done covering him with purple marks, he was already leaking in his boxer. the way you ride him as if you wanted to milk him dry has sunghoon throwing his head back, eyes closed and mouth opened, letting out all sorts of noises. he's letting you do all the talking, getting more desperate to cum every time another string of dirty words escape your lips.
"i'm the only one who can make you feel like this baby, right ? i'm the only one who can take your cock like that." "louder, hoon. i want everyone to hear how good i'm making you feel." "you're gonna cum ? do it inside, this way no one is going to ever doubt that you belong to me again."
sunghoon cums the hardest when you whisper all these things to him with a smirk on your face, and he's almost on the verge of tears from the way your pussy is clenching around him, from the way you're so confident about the effect you have on him. and you're right, because he's down bad for you and that won't ever change
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apocalypseornaw · 2 months
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Fantasies
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Dean Winchester x Reader
You start having dreams about the eldest Winchester which puts a strain on your friendship
You groaned lightly from the tightness in your side, it was decorated vibrant shades of purple from the last hunt. All of you were currently sticking to the bunker and licking your physical or mental wounds until the next case called.
You walked out of your room trying to decide if you wanted to go in search of coffee or just wander through the stacks in the library. Sleep wouldn't find you and your mind wouldn't allow you to simply lay in bed.
You ended up deciding on a bottle of water before going in search of a book to busy your mind until maybe exhaustion would win out. You walked quietly into the library and was surprised to find you weren't the only occupant of the bunker still up.
Dean sat at the table, an open lore book in front of him but you could tell from the look in his eyes his mind was on anything but the book. "Dean?" You called and he startled slightly which honestly shocked you. No one snuck up on Dean.
He smiled when his eyes landed on you "What are you doing up sweetheart? You got pretty banged up" you rolled your eyes despite the smile slipping onto your face. Of course he was worried about your side when Sam had to put his left shoulder back into place. "I'm fine Dean. Are you ok?"
He nodded then stopped "No, I'm not. Can we talk?" You laughed lightly "We're talking now Winchester" he narrowed his eyes at you so you grinned "Sorry" then walked over to sit next to him but instead he grabbed your hand at the last moment and directed you to the table in front of him.
It wasn't unusual for any of you to end up sitting on the table during a rundown of a hunt but that was when it was all three of you and you were fully dressed. Now you were wearing the long tshirt you'd worn to bed and a pair of boys boyshorts that barely covered everything. You sat down in front of Dean and pressed your legs together, pulling the shirt down "What's wrong Dean?"
He leaned forward, tentatively putting one hand on your bare leg "You" "Me?" You asked and he nodded "Jody may have let somethings slip to me" you felt your face warm, why would she do that? You'd told her in confidence. "I know you don't feel the same about me Dean" you barely whispered, keeping your eyes down on your lap.
He leaned forward to catch your face in one of his hands, forcing your eyes to meet his "How do you know I don't? How do you know if you're not the only thing ever on my mind? How I hate you wearing this damn outfit to bed because if I ever catch Sam looking I'm gonna knock his head off. How I'd give anything to bend you over this table and show you just how much I feel the same about you"
By that time he'd moved from his chair to be standing between your legs, one hand holding your face while the other was still on your leg. You could feel your heart in your throat when you saw the hunger in those gorgeous green eyes that was watching your every move. "Show me" you whispered and a grin worked its way onto his face. He caught your lips in a bruising kiss as you felt his hand slid up your leg to your inner thigh. When his fingers brushed over your clothed core you moaned lightly and he smirked against your lips "Damn that's a beautiful sound"
He slipped one finger under the shorts and groaned when he realized you weren't wearing any panties. He plunged two fingers into you and your hips bucked up towards him. His eyes went from your face down to watch as he fucked you with his fingers "So damn pretty,coming apart on my fingers. Can't wait to feel that little pussy stretched around me"
He caught your lips again, slowly exploring your mouth with his own as he worked you closer to that edge. The moment his fingers grazed that spot inside of you, you clenched hard around his fingers and he moaned "Fuck, baby I'm trying to take this slow but you're making it hard"
You pulled back from the kiss just long enough to slip your shirt over your head, leaving you completely bare from the waist up "Take it slow later Dean but for now please just fuck me like you want me" He closed his eyes just for a second but you could see his jaw clench tightly. When he opened his eyes they were a darker shade of green and fuck his voice sounded deeper than usual when he said "Yes ma'am"
"WAKE UP SLEEPING BEAUTY. WE GOT A CASE" Dean's voice booming through your bedroom door jolted you awake. Your heart was pounding wildly and you were fairly certain your panties were soaked. Fuck. These dreams about Dean had started months ago, they had been sporadic at best but now it was beginning to be a reoccurring thing. How the hell could you keep living in close quarters, hunting side by side when the one thing you wanted from him you knew you couldn't have?
Reality
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pupgawa · 3 months
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Hybrid - girls ! ! ♡︎
୨❤︎︎୧ contents: what kind of animal girl the bsd men like ( fem ! Reader my darlings ) ❤︎︎
୨❤︎︎୧ pairings: dazai/reader , chuuya/reader, akutagawa/reader, and atsushi/reader
୨❤︎︎୧ tags / warnings: smut of course, praise, brat taming, mating press, cream pie, vibrators
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Dazai Osamu
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★ … Dazai likes : lamb girls ! ❤︎︎
he loves all women as he says ! But the, soft , sweet , love-able are all traits of the lamb girl experience that Dazai absolutely adores. he loves to put his head on your lap and take a small snooze after a long day of work. Your gentle demeanor makes you absolutely irresistible, he’s like a big bad wolf taking a soft sweet little lamb all for himself ❤︎︎
he loves to take you from behind, preferably in front of a mirror, he loves to watch your cute little tail wag and wiggle as he makes you cum for the 3rd time that night !
-❤︎︎-
Dazai takes a hold of your hips, dragging you back onto his cock, you already came twice already but he whispers a faux ‘ one more time ‘ into your ear and you’re already practically weak for him.
Large bandaged hand grips your hips tightly, leaving bruising indents on your soft flesh. He bucks his hips at a quick pace. Lewd , wet sounds fill up your shared apartment ( neither of you bothering to close the door properly ).
One hand leaves your hips, coming around to your front and tilting your head up, forcing you to look at the mirror at the foot of your bed. “ look at that, little lamb .. ” he hums in your ear. “ so pretty when you’re all fucked out like this ” he coos sweetly in your ear, placing a kiss to the side of your neck, which was already painted with purple and blue hickies that he oh so kindly decided to leave.
“ samu’ .. ” you babble out, unable to form a coherent sentence at this point, you were close, your walls clamp down around him. “ oh ? You’re gonna cum ? ” he asks, you nod your head in response, earning a chuckle from the brunette.
“ cum f’ me, pretty ” you didn’t need to be told twice, you let out a small squeak, it’s all you could muster out for now, cumming around his cock. Dazai slows his thrusts down, but not coming to a complete stop.
“ shit .. oh belladonna, I’m gonna cum- will you let me do it inside ? ” he whispers into your ear, you merely nod your head, not being able to speak. Dazai gives a couple more sloppy thrusts before stilling himself inside your cunt, spilling himself inside of you.
There’s a moment of silence, minus the soft panting of both you and Dazai. Dazai withdraws from your battered cunt with a lazy, satisfied smile on his face
“ see? I told you you could do it ”
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Chuuya Nakahara
★ … chuuya likes : fox girls !
as opposed to Dazai, chuuya takes a liking to your brash, assertive behavior, not many men do, but chuuya enjoys the extra challenge. Though you weren’t really a challenge outside of the bedroom, it’s the healthiest relationship either of you have ever been in, you guys treat each other like loyalty, and honestly, good for you guys !
Chuuya likes having you ride him, it’s fun seeing you get desperate for his cock when you were just bratting off to him earlier.
- ❤︎︎ -
“ come on, baby, you can do it ” chuuya’s words are nothing but a mock as he watches you bounce on his lap, leaning against the headboard, You see you would have gotten help if you weren’t such a damn brat earlier.
Your long fox ears flick in annoyance, you place your hands on his thighs and continue to bounce on his stiff dick. You decided to wave your tail right in front of his face, you know he hated when you did this, it made him sneeze every time, and he’ll be damned if he sneezes in the middle of fucking you. He grabs your tail at the base, making you arch your back with a loud moan, walls clamping down around his cock.
“ you little minx ” he snarls under his breath, “ you did that on purpose didn’t you ? ” damn you foxes and your clever brains. You look back at him and stick out your tongue. “ fine, you asked for it ”
Before you could respond, his hands are stationed behind his back, completely stilling his hips. “ since you think you’re sooo smart, find away to get yourself off, then ” okay that was not how you planning that to go. There’s a whine from the back of your throat, but either way, you started moving your hips again.
It didn’t take long before you set a nice and steady rhythm, desperately fucking yourself on his cock, slowly dragging his shaft out of yourself before inserting it back in, his cockhead kissing your cervix with a loud moan. Chuuya watches from beneath you, your cunt stretching around his cock as you connect your hips with his.
“ p .. please ” you plead, desperately bucking your hips
“ I dunno, you’ve been pretty bratty, bad girls don’t get help ” chuuya teases.
“ please ! M’ sorry ! Just help me- ” you sobbed, hips faltering as you desperately bounced on him, itching to cum.
Chuuya thinks for a minute before letting out a small chuckle. “ alright, c’mere ”
Chuuya purrs, grabbing a hold of your hips and thrusting upwards, pulling you back down on to his cock, you arched your back and let out a loud moan.
Chuuya groans loudly, hands tightening on your hips so hard they might bruise, thrusting up once or twice before he slips out and shoots ropes of cum directly onto your tummy.
You whine softly “ I didn’t get to cum.. ”
“ shouldn’t have been a brat, then ” he snips back with a small huff.
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Ryuunosuke Akutagawa
★ … Akutagawa likes: puppy girls !
akutagawa likes the loyalty and the eagerness to please that comes with puppy girls it’s the little things like going out to retrieve things for him, remind him of meetings and important dates that he has, taking his coat after work, things like that make his normally cold heart flutter.
- ❤︎︎ -
The soft sound of a vibrator fills the living room, you whimper softly as you grind up against his leg, pussy gushing all over his pants, he tuts softly, Rashomon getting tighter around your body making you moan softly
“ you’re getting my pants all wet, bad girl ”
“ sorry, ryuu, I’m sorry, just feel so good ”
You whimper pathetically, sucking in air through your teeth, you tail wagging furiously, trying to buck your hips again, but Akutagawa’s ability was holding you still, not allowing to move. You whine loudly, but you know better than to disobey.
Akutagawa smirks seeing your obedience, he presses down on the button of the vibrator, turning the intensity of the vibrator up, making you toss your head back with a loud moan. Your tail stands up on edge, ears twitching, your eyes become dewy with tears soon enough, you came twice already on the vibrator.
“ r … ryuu- ”
You start whining, attempting to buck your hips, but roshomon is holding you tightly, preventing you from doing so.
“ stay still, if you want any chance of cumming tonight you’ll do so on the vibrator, understood? ”
You still your hips, following his orders, you couldn’t hear what he said next by the sound of your own moans and the intense vibrating sounds, you’ve been at this for hours, and your orgasm was so close, you tremble in the old of your boyfriend’s ability, voice getting higher in pitch.
And finally, you finally reached your climax after hours or endless torture, you let out a loud moan of pleasure, cumming around the vibrator, Akutagawa turns it off, another black tendril coming from his coat and taking the vibrator of you.
“ good girl ”
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Atsushi Nakajima
★… atsushi likes: bunny girls !
he can’t help it, it’s his tiger instinct that draws him to be more attracted so the gentle, soft, and cleverness of the bunny girl experience. It also makes for some great sex, after a particularly hard day of work, he comes home and rails you into the bed
- ❤︎︎ -
Atsushi has you pinned aghast the bed, legs lifted up, pressed against your chest, locking you into a tight mating press, unable to move, let alone escape, but it’s not like you want to when he’s drilling into you this good.
“ f … fuck- ” he moans out, his hips slamming into yours, pounding you till kingdom come, the sounds of your moans only spurs him on, he’s come inside of you twice already and he’s far from done. He just can’t get enough of the way your gummy walls feel around him, sucking him in, it’s like you don’t want him to stop.
“ one more … one more, sweetheart, I promise, just one more ” he said that an hour ago, but he sounds so desperate you don’t bother to say no, you can’t say no to that cute face of his.
“ a .. alright, ‘jima, one more ” you manage to get out, Atsushi moans happily and continues to fuck you, his thrusts get sloppy, signaling that he was close to orgasm again. He bites down onto your already marked up neck, splotches of purple painted your skin, he leaves another dark hickey on your neck, kissing it after he was done.
“ c .. cumming- shit, cumming! I’m gonna- ooohh !! ♡︎ ”
He moans out, stilling himself deep inside of you, cockhead kissing your cervix, he spills himself balls deep inside of you, he moans out in satisfaction and pulls out his still erected member, watching his cum spill out of you.
“ one more round ? ” he asks, you chuckle softly in exhaustion
“ sure, one more around ”
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hijackalx · 3 months
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Headcanon thingy, but who would the boys (Gale, Astarion, Wyll, and Gortash) react to seeing their lover trying on lingerie?
felt like testing my drabble skills so i added a lil something extra to them 😎💗 enjoy pookie!!
GN!reader
SLIGHT NSFW BELOW
GALE
likes when you surprise him with it. wear some under your clothes as a little treat for when he’s undressing you 😌✨
you look so good that it makes him trip over his words. he’s too busy ogling your body to pay attention to what he’s saying. will have him laughing like a nervous virgin 😹
LOVESSSSS garters. can’t keep his hands off of them. particularly loves the way your thighs strain beneath them when you’re on your knees
instantly wants to enchant the bottoms to make them vibrate and watch you get off like that (don’t ask if that’s actually possible my brain functions on horny not logic)
your outfit is inconspicuous, plain— perfect for covering up the lingerie hiding beneath. you wait patiently in his lap as he unwraps your silken robe, biting back a smirk.
he pauses to take in the sight of the lace hugging your skin, how it flows so delicately around your shape. he tuts, shooting you a familiar, frivolous grin. “feeling naughty tonight, are we?” just moments later, his hands move to rest on your bottoms, a seemingly harmless action that results in a soft buzz and a gasp. “i can work with that.”
ASTARION
insists on going with you to pick some out. follows you into every dressing room to “make sure it fits right” lol. so picky but mostly because he loves watching you try them on
his favorites are flowy/frilly types, like babydoll tops or satin robes. also LOVES stockings of any kind
makes you feel like an actual doll ✨🌸 repeatedly tells you how perfect you are and can’t keep his hands off you. will also try to get you flustered by whispering really dirty stuff about how you look into your ear
likes when you have fun with it and show off for him— be cheeky. do a little spin. bend over in front of him. be prepared for him to pinch or smack your ass though
he sits comfortably on the dressing room bench as you approach him. “how about this one?” you pull your bottom lip in playfully, placing your hands on his shoulders as he takes your body into his grasp.
“mm,” erupts from his throat, watching as his lithe fingers slip over and under the fabric sparsely covering your skin. “now, this one i like.” he places a slow and deliberate kiss to your exposed abdomen, his ruby gaze flitting up to meet yours; there’s an impish glint to them that tells you he doesn’t plan on waiting to have you any longer.
GORTASH
likes to make sketches of you wearing it. has so many drawings of you in compromising positions with it on. definitely keeps them for when he’s alone
loves corsets and bustiers because of how they emphasize your chest, especially in blacks and reds. crotchless panties also drive him INSANE
the sluttier you act while wearing it the better. don’t try to be modest (there’s honestly no reason to be anyway, he’s a freak fr 😹😹)
a sucker for fishnets. likes to take them off and use them to tie your wrists together. will also shove them in your mouth/gag you with them on occasion
his dark irises glance up from his work every so often to study your decorated figure; they follow the arch of your back, the heart shape of your ass, and linger on the exposed area between your thighs more often than not.
“lower,” he directs, and you immediately respond by deepening the angle of your back. he hums contently, scribbles some more, then adds, “spread your legs further.”
you comply once again, happy to flaunt your body under his gaze. the corner of your lip pulls upward, anticipating your reward for being such an obedient little muse.
WYLL
bust this out on your honeymoon and he gets SOOO flustered. i’m talking stuttering/looking away/rubbing his neck
his favorites on you are lacy teddies— especially in blues, purples, and whites. more traditionally sexy styles really get him going
lowkey so obsessed with how you look in it. the kind of thing that’s on his mind 24/7. almost always asking you to put it on for him at the end of the day with a little pout 😹💗
LOVES when you strip for him nice and slow, especially how you tease him by carefully revealing each skimpy garment beneath your clothes. a lapdance is also mandatory
you spot the anxiousness simmering beneath his lax surface— he longs to touch you, but you’d rather toy with him a little more.
prowling closer to where he sits, you slowly unbutton your blouse. with each maneuver of your fingers, you reveal the lingerie lying beneath, watching how his hungry, needy gaze fixates on it.
he inhales sharply as you straddle his lap and take his hand in yours. he lets you guide it over your ornamented body, his eyes heavy with desire as he mutters a low and raspy, “you’ll ruin me.”
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sincerestlove · 3 months
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Jealousy - R.G.
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reneé is SO BEAUTIFUL i am gnawing at the bars of my enclosure. someone call 911 because i am about to have a heart attack. babygirl is SO FUCKING FINE.
Pairing: Regina George x Reader
Request: Regina x reader where Regina and reader are in a secret relationship but someone tries to hit on reader at a party and Regina gets jealous?
Warnings: None; just hot, protective, jealous, possessive regina.
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"Hi, pretty girl." Your beautiful girlfriend greeted you at her front door with a smile, pretty white teeth on display. She held her hand out for you, which you accepted gratefully, allowing her to pull you to her car.
You had previously agreed to meet her here so that she could drive the both of you to Gretchen's party tonight. Usually, she would have asked you come over earlier in the day so you could get ready together, but you already made plans to get your hair done. Regina complained about it when you told her, but with the way she was looking at you now, she wasn't upset anymore.
The blonde led you to her passenger's side door, gently backing you against it, before leaning down and taking your lips in a bruising kiss. "You look so hot in that outfit." She breathed out against your lips, her hands sneaking up and under your top. Her touch was so light it was almost ticklish, feeling yourself smiling into the kiss. "And your hair looks perfect."
She always managed to make you feel good about yourself, always make you feel beautiful. She constantly showered you with compliments, even when you weren't all done up like this.
Pulling away reluctantly, you blinked, before meeting Regina's bright eyes, marveling at the way the hues of blue and green with a dash of orange, blended together. You took the opportunity to take in her outfit. She looked breathtaking - tight, black tank top underneath her leather jacket, dark jeans, with silver jewelry adorning her slender fingers, neck and ears.
God, you were the luckiest girl in the world.
"You look gorgeous, Gina." You spoke shyly, leaning back up into her, hands fisting into her jacket and tugging her closer. She kissed you again, warm tongue nudging your lips apart. You got lost in each other for a few moments, pleasant sighs coming from your mouth.
Regina broke apart from your lips, moving to nip at the skin of your exposed neck. You couldn't help letting out the soft moan that bubbled in your throat, head moving back to rest against the cold window. "If you keep doing that, I just might have to take you back inside, pretty girl." She murmured against your skin, sucking harshly, leave behind a few dark purple marks. You sent her a pointed look as she pulled away, a satisfied smirk on her lips. "Just to make sure everyone knows who you belong to."
Regina nudged you aside and opened the door, gesturing for you to get in as your face turned beet red. She was always quite possessive of you, even from the start of your "secret" relationship, but even more so when you went to parties together.
Honestly, it was hot.
She shut the door once you were settled, moving around to slide into the driver's seat. "Buckle up, baby." She flashed you a killer smile before peeling out of her driveway, free hand coming to rest on the exposed skin of your thigh. The touch made you shiver, shifting slightly in your seat. The blonde sent you a knowing look, laughing under her breath.
She absolutely loved the effect she had on you.
~~~
The party was already in full swing by the time you and Regina arrived. She parked in Gretchen's massive driveway, making sure that no one else could block her in. You really weren't a huge fan of parties, but eventually, viewed it as another opportunity to spend more time with your girlfriend. Albeit, in a setting you didn't prefer, but you could take that on the chin without much of an issue. Any time that you could spend with her was more than worth it.
"You want a drink?" You nodded, following closely behind as the blonde beelined to the kitchen, opening the fridge to pull out a colorful drink. She opened it for you, before setting it in your hand. You thanked her gratefully, taking a sip of the drink. It was quite sweet, the taste of alcohol very minimal, which you appreciated.
Regina looked around the room, eyes stopping on Gretchen and Karen. The two girls were sitting in the living room on the couch, Gretchen crying her eyes out. You both could tell they were very drunk. Regina sighed, turning to you. "I'll be right back, going to go check on them." You nodded, taking another swig. "Don't go anywhere, yeah?" She squeezed your hand, lingering for a moment longer before walking off toward her friends.
You watched her off, hips swaying confidently, the crowd moving out of her way without missing a beat. It still amazed you how she could command an entire room so easily.
You were lost in thought for a little while as Regina disappeared into the crowd, until you felt a quick few taps on your shoulder. Spinning around, you were met with the sight of Cady, grinning at you. Since when did she go to parties?
You thought she was nice enough, knowing her on a very minimal level as the two of you shared a math class last year. You hadn't really spoken to her much since then, only a friendly hello here and there when passing each other in the hallways.
"Hey, Y/N, funny seeing you here tonight. I had no idea you were coming!" You smiled at the redhead awkwardly, shuffling on your feet.
"Yeah, Gretchen invited me. And Regina." You smiled at the mention of your girlfriend's name, doing a quick glance over to where she was supposed to be. The trio was no longer in the living room, though, making you frown. Maybe they went up to Gretchen's room to calm her down?
"Where is she?" You looked back over to Cady, noticing that she had taken a step closer to you, leaning forwards. The surprise of it made you stumble back, coming in contact with the counter behind you.
You laughed slightly, hand gripping tighter on your drink. "Oh, uh...she just went to the bathroom. She should be right back."
Cady cocked her head to the side, taking another step closer to you. "Really? Cause I've been watching you for a little while and she still hasn't come back." Her smile got wider, hand coming up to brush your arm. You recoiled at the touch, flushing yourself back against the counter. A rush of panic washed over you, killing what little buzz you had, noticing the smell of alcohol on her breath and the glazed over look in her eyes. "You know, Y/N", she brushed against your arm as she continued, "I've always had a crush on you. I think you are so pretty." She batted her eyelashes, biting on her lip. "Would you want to maybe go out sometime?"
You just blinked at her, completely baffled at what had come out of her mouth. "Oh..." You smiled awkwardly, moving even farther back to create more space between you, "Cady...I'm really flattered, but no, I think we would be better off as just friends."
Cady laughed. "Come on, I think we would be so great together. Don't you?" She leaned even closer, looking at you expectantly.
Was this girl serious?
As your brows knitted together, you was about to tell her no again, when a warm body pressed against yours from behind, all too familiar hands slipping around your waist and pulling you flush to her. The sweet scent of her perfume filled your nose, relaxing you almost instantly.
"I think the lady said no, Cady." Regina's tone was short and laced with anger, her arms tightening around you. You didn't even have to look at her to know that she was glaring holes in Cady's head. The girl turned red with embarrassment, muttering an apology under her breath before quickly running off.
You let out a deep breath you hadn't realized you were holding, nearly going limp in Regina's embrace. "Are you okay, pretty girl?" Regina turned you around to face her, eyes scanning your face. You nodded as she cupped your cheeks and set your drink on the counter, pulling you in for a sweet kiss. You melted into her, leaning your weight against her front. After a moment you separated, smiling at each other, until you heard someone clearing their throat.
Oh, shit. The party.
"Gina, everyone is looking at us." You whispered, feeling anxiety bubbling in your stomach and crawling up your throat.
Everyone had gone quiet, the eyes of almost all of your classmates locked on the two of you. Regina tensed, but surprisingly, didn't let go. "Me and Y/N are together." Regina voiced loudly without wasting a beat, eyes softening as she looked at you. "And if any of you losers have a problem with it, I will burn you to the ground."
The crowd murmured amongst itself and you watched as everyone simply nodded, shrugged and went on with the party as they were. Both you and Regina visibly relaxed, thankful that there wasn't much of a scene.
No one cared, really. Half of the student population already assumed that you two were together. Neither of you hid it very well - exchanging lovesick glances at lunch, holding hands "platonically" yeah right, lesbians, bringing each other coffee and lunch, whispering to each other and giggling. Gretchen and Karen already knew, exchanging smiles as they watched Regina proudly kiss you in her kitchen.
You smiled at your girlfriend, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You never imagined coming out together in this way, but honestly, it was very fitting. Regina hugged you tightly, whispering her love and adoration for you in your ears, loud enough for only you to hear.
"I love you."
Your heart fluttered, feeling a few tears fall down your cheeks. "I love you, Gina." You held each other for a few long moments before separating. The blonde was looking down at you, pretty smile sitting on her pretty lips. "So..." you trailed off, a teasing smile playing at the corners of your mouth. "Were you jealous of Cady?"
Regina scoffed, rolling her eyes. "As if. That girl could never hold a candle to me. She should've taken a hint - there's like, three big ass hickeys on your neck."
You laughed, pulling her in for another kiss, unable to resist. "No one ever could hold a candle to you, Gina." She just looked so hot when she was jealous. "Take me home?"
The blonde grinned, taking your hands and dragging you to the door without wasting another moment. "I thought you'd never ask, pretty girl."
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i hope you enjoyed!
as always, please leave requests if you have any! :)
788 notes · View notes
xstarsmvxz · 10 months
Note
sub spider men?
𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑-𝐌𝐄𝐍 ❥
𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐒 > Miguel O’hara, aged up! e1610 Miles, aged up! e42 Miles & Hobie Brown
𖦹 i just wanna say that I love getting requests, even if they’re simple and small they really help me have motivation to write <3
𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎’𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀 ➬
Fuck, this man may just be one of the most gentle giants ever when it comes to being a sub. His biceps are flexing behind him, his veins bulging out as his hands stay tied to the head board. One minute, his girthy cock is being pumped by your hand and the next it’s twitching and nearly turning purple, desperate to cum as you gently tease the tip with your thumb. His legs are kicking and squirming as he lets out a long whine, his voice cracking as you cup his sack and gently massage. Your other hand finally grabs the base of his cock, slightly squeezing as you lick his sensitive tip, causing him to let out a lewd moan at the sensation.The rest of the night was filled with Miguel’s desperate voice, begging you to let him cum.
aged up! 𝐞𝟏𝟔𝟏𝟎 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒 ➬
Remember in my last post when I said that he was a virgin? Well yeah, this guy is definitely a virgin. He’s always been a sub, never a dom.. but to be honest, he secretly likes it that way. He likes the way you ride his cock so smoothly, so confidently, so experienced.. it always causes a jealous feeling to arise in his chest whenever he thinks of you with any other man, whenever he thinks of the fact that you’ve ridden another man just like how you ride him. But strangely enough, he enjoys it. The way your tight cunt professionally squeezes around his length perfectly as your thighs crush his waist. The way you smirk and tauntingly laugh at the whimpers and moans that leave his mouth. Even when he tries to suppress it, you always find a way to get him to let out a sweet moan or whine, either purposely clenching around him or muttering sweet, sexy words into his ear before moving to kiss his sensitive neck.
aged up! 𝐞𝟒𝟐 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒 ➬
Bro is for sure a a switch, usually a dom but not for tonight. No, tonight you have him pinned against your bedroom wall, running one of your hands all over his chest, your fingers gliding over his nipple as the two of you lustfully kiss. He’s letting out breathy moans into the kiss, his brows furrowed as your other hand every so gently pumps his cock, the tip of your pointer finger prodding at his slit before you break the kiss, getting onto your knees in front of him as he lets out a small whimper at the sight. Your perky nipples and plump thighs look so good to him right now as you give the side of his cock small kitten licks, moving to give his tip a wet kiss, your saliva mixing with his leaking pre-cum. His hands instinctively move to grab a fistful of your hair before you roughly grab his wrists to stop him, moving his hands away as you slowly take his whole length into your mouth, gripping what you can’t fit with your free hand as you continue to hold one of his. You nearly gag as his tip hits the back of your throat, letting out a groan at the sweet taste of his cock. His eyes are brimming with tears as he searched for something to grip, letting out a broken moan at the feeling of his tip hitting the back of your throat.
𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 ➬
Even as a sub, Hobie is still extremely cocky. He’s praising you as you ride his cock, attempting to take control of the situation. It honestly surprised him when you switched the position from military to cowgirl, when you went from subby bottom to dominant top, it wasn’t at all like you. He smirks and toys with his lip piercing as you weakly grind your hips against his, still tired from your previous orgasms, but you don’t stop your movements at all, no… you grind and bounce on his huge dick as if your life depended on it, letting out breathy moans as Hobie grabs your hips, shamelessly letting out groans and whimpers of his own as your tight cunt sucks him in. It didn’t take long for the two of you to reach your climaxes. Hobie let’s out a long groan as he shoots long ropes of cum into you, pulling your body down as he shoves his face into your breasts, whether they’re big or small- they’re still his favourite thing about you.
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
1K notes · View notes
teaspoon-full-of-sugar · 10 months
Text
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tangointhenight
pairing: harry styles x reader (au)
warnings: idiots in love trope, long-distance fwb (sounds weird but it makes sense just give her a read luv), switch!harry and switch!reader, detailed descriptions of female and male masterbation, maladaptive daydreaming during a fanfic, mentions of exhibitionism, edging, one singular ‘daddy’, cum swapping, breeding kink, praise kink and degradation, rope play, spitting, choking, mutual masterbation, overstimulation, use of toys (vibrator mostly), crying after sex (iconic)
word count: 13.3k
synopsis: harry records erotic audios, and y/n is an avid listener
author’s note: hello nasties, here’s another filth fic for ya! this has been a long time in the making, and i am so sorry i have been mia for so long, but i am back for the time being to give you this fic. i have wanted to do something like this for a while now, but it’s been a struggle (lots of blood, sweat, and tears put into this). i’m kinda proud of her to be honest, and i hope you enjoy :)
tags: @victoria-styles
masterlist
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Y/N finally sinks into her mattress after yet another tiring day. She can hear her roommate on the other side of the wall, chatting with her girlfriend over the phone, blissfully ignorant to the fact that she currently has a hand teasing the band of her sweatpants while the other scrolls aimlessly through her phone.
Exhaustion burns behind her eyes, but there’s a desperate ache in her belly, one that demands satiety. She opens the internet app to find it unchanged from the night before, still lighting up in the profile named tangointhenight. His profile picture is a tantalizing photo of his hand, splayed across his thigh, which are clad in tight, floral printed pants, doing wonders for the very prominent bulge. Pieces of paint linger on his thumbnail, a pretty pale mint color, and his skin, tanned with faint freckles and etches of dark ink, looks tempting in the golden light. At his wrist is a braided twine bracelet with cheap beads that have letters that she can’t make out, which looks old and wilted.
She scrolls down, only lingering for a moment to appreciate the photo one final time.
There are some cute little posts and polls in addition to his erotic audios. The newest one, posted just that afternoon, warns not to listen to this in public with a series of cute little emoticons following. If there’s one thing she’s learned about Tango, that’s what she and other listeners call him, is that he’s a bit of an exhibitionist; his audios tend to lean toward nearly getting caught or even being caught (oftentimes leading to a “helping out” situation). She honestly wasn’t into that sort of thing until he started talking about it, and now, she finds it incredibly sexy, the thrill of the quick high and the fear of being caught in such a vulnerable moment.
She’ll definitely have to give the new audio a listen on one of her morning commute trips to the university; perhaps, she could give it a listen while she waits for her class to start, his deep voice teasing and coaxing her into an aching mess. She hopes that it’ll leave her trembling and throbbing for the rest of the day. She wonders if she’ll be able to make it until night before she has to finish herself off or if she’ll have to sneak off to the restrooms during one of her seven minute breaks, foot propped up on the toilet paper dispenser while she rubs herself to her bitter end.
She scrolls down a bit, passing over audios that vary from pillow talk to a dirty fuck in back alleys, before tapping on the familiar link, purple from use, the description teasingly saying: we’ve been visiting my mum for a week, and I haven’t been able to taste you... I guess we’ll just have to be quiet.
It’s one of the first audios she listened to when she was just discovering this new world of pleasure, so it has a special place in her heart. It’s one of his firsts from nearly a year ago, of fuzzy listening quality and nervous voice, but she finds his ramblings endearing; although, admittedly, she thinks anything he does is cute.
She tucks in her earbuds and presses the play button. Tossing the phone to the side, her eyes flutter closed, visions of white dotting through the darkness as they adjust. There’s a subtle cracking sound that indicates that it has finally loaded, and a fuzzy droning sound filters through the headphones. There’s a fan going in the background; it squeaks and grumbles nearby. A door creaks open, one of those fake sound effects that you can buy, but she appreciates the effort.
“Hey, lovie, feelin’ better?”
His familiar voice floats through her ears. She settles even more into her sheets. His voice is a nice, hot cup of tea at the end of a hard day, a drug that leaves her head foggy and senses dulled. His voice reminds her of sleep: deep, soothing, persistent, yet ever fleeting. She yearns for it, like being able to listen to that one mazing song for the first time again or the feeling of sunshine after the long winter months. His voice is intoxicating, reaching a baritone timbre that she can’t quite put to words.
At first, she wanted to put a face to the man who hummed sweet nothings in her ears, who coaxed her to oblivion for nights on end. Now, she’s at ease with never knowing. It keeps things interesting, and she doesn’t think about it as much anymore.
“If only mum wasn’t home, maybe we could’ve snuck a quick one in the shower,” he says. She smirks, picturing him tucked into his childhood bed, a cozy twin that would be a struggle for the both of them to fit in, and he has his old quilt tucked up to his neck, leaving his bare feet exposed because of how little it is.
There’s a moment of silence, then a cute little laugh.
“I know. You wouldn’t want to sin in her godly home, but she loves you, probably more than me. I don't think she would think any differently of you.”
Another beat of silence, then his voice catches in his throat. Y/N smiles softly as he stutters pitifully, slowly, struggling to find his words.
“N-no, y’know tha's not how I meant it,” he says. “Like, she loves you more than she loves me. Not that I don’t love you as much as she does.” He moves, the rustling of his sheets crackling in her ears. She can hear his hand run over his stubble, nails scratching over short little hairs. She wonders if he usually grows out his facial hair or if he’s the type to keep clean shaven.
“She couldn’t possibly love you more than I do.” The bed creaks as he shifts again. “C’mon, babe, join me. ‘S all nice and warm.”
She herself burrows further into her blankets, knowing full well that she’s probably going to be kicking them off in a few minutes. She turns to her side, blinking her eyes open, trying to immerse herself into the fantasy.
“‘M glad you got time off of work to come here with me. I know you could've been spending time back home, but you came here with me instead.” His voice is closer than before, however whispered. Every accentuated vowel that passes through his lips is like a breath of fresh air, and she hums quietly at the sound.
“I really appreciate it. ‘M glad we got to spend this time together.”
She imagines that he tucks her into his neck, coddling her while his fingers trace over the curves of her face, from the furrow of her brow, down to the apple of her cheeks, before stopping at her lips, lingering only momentarily before his thumb would push just past them.
He chuckles suddenly.
“What does it look like I’m doing? Jus’ lovin’ on my girl.”
His short pecks turn into slow, passionate kisses, deep sighs of relief falling from his lips, and she swears she can almost feel his breath on her skin, nose pressed tight to the pulsepoint in her neck as he sponges his lips over her collarbone, teeth nibbling lightly. She tugs the tee up from where it’s settled at her hips to where the curves of her breasts begin, the material squeezing them tightly to her chest. The sensitive skin aches under the tight pressure. She teases her nipples through her thin bra, feeling the tenderness coax chills down her spine.
“Please,” he whines. “Wanna taste you. You can be quiet. I believe in you, love.”
She could picture him now, chin resting on her stomach, eyes pleading with her. She would flick his head at the patronizing tone before brushing her fingers through his hair. Would he have short tuffs or long tresses that she could run her fingers through after a long day, breaking apart the knots that accumulate throughout the day? Does he have pin straight, dark locks that are cut close to his scalp or sand coloured curls that fall gracefully on his forehead? Perhaps, he has a bit of gray peaking through his hairline to match his wise and weathered voice. She could almost moan at the thought. She has always had a thing for older men.
Tango says something, but she can’t really hear it, his words muffled by her racing heart. She pries her pants down shaky legs, leaving them dangling around her ankle, and her fingers work quickly in massaging her puffy clit, arousal wetting the tender skin. Not one for having much patience, she doesn’t wait for him to finish worshiping her body with his mouth before she is rubbing herself through her panties, feeling the cold wetness on her fingertips. Eyes closed, her head falls back on her pillows, legs tensing when she stops suddenly.
“Pretty thighs,” he mumbles to himself between kisses, and she could almost feel his tender touches on the backs of her thighs, which tremble with anticipation. A wetly placed kiss followed by an appreciative hum signals his final descent to her cunt. The sound of languid licks are nearly enough to make her finish, walls clenching miserably around nothing. Fingers slowing close to a dead stop, barely more than a faint fluttering on her sensitive skin, she attempts to collect herself, but it’s difficult when he moans once again, muffled by his furiously working lips.
“Love your pussy, baby.” She melts at his words, eyes rolling back as waves of pleasure rack through her body, hips stuttering in time with each flick of her wrist. “So warm and wet and jus’ perfect for me.” His voice, low with need, makes her throb, arousal slipping into her panties.
She’s close already, an unfortunate effect he has on her. Barely five minutes into her alone time, and she can feel the orgasm begin to build, like an unyielding inferno spreading through every nerve. The stress from her day, the exhaustion with the world, everything melts into just one prominent feeling threatening to burst from her pores. She has to force herself to stop before she falls over the edge in order to draw out this experience as much as possible. She nearly cries out when she pulls her hand away altogether, her poor, puffy clit throbbing painfully.
This continues for a while, the undulating waves of a blistering release and the torture of a cut off orgasm, until the air becomes thick, her heaving breaths heating her empty room.
“There’s my good girl,” he says. “Use me, lovie. Want you to choke me with your pretty thighs.”
His voice is more firm this time, and she could only picture his baleful eyes staring up at her, eager to please her and guide her over the edge. It makes her wonder what they look like; she wonders if they’re a soulful, deep chocolate that darken with lust, a pale blue that reminds her of warm afternoons, or a striking hazel that flickers with green hues in the light.
No matter the color, she is sure that they’re undoubtedly pretty.
“Please,” she whispers faintly.
“More? You want more, my greedy girl?” She nods pitifully, feeling the orgasm build quickly in her belly before she stops once again, fingers pressing into her throbbing clit. “You want my fingers?”
Her walls flutter fruitlessly for some sort of release, for some sort of stimulation. He moans out sharply.
“Feel so good, babylove,” he coos. “So warm and wet f’me.”
She wants to slip her fingers inside, to tease and massage that tender spot that she can barely reach until she struggles to breathe. She wants to feel full, but she doesn’t want to take care of the mess, and it surely won’t be comfortable sleeping in wet sheets. The wipes hidden alongside her other secret toys, beneath mounds of socks and crumpled underwear, do little to take care of the arousal that has pooled between her legs.
She fishes around her bedside table, fingers raking through bundles of panties to find her vibrator, a cheap little thing she got in a set when she first moved into her apartment. Unfortunately, she ran through the other ones that were in the set, and this is the only one left.
She nestles the vibrator on her swollen clit and ticks it on to the lowest setting. This stimulation is different than before; a vague rumbling rattles her bones, making her lips tremble, with choked cries teetering on her tongue. Obscene wet sounds fill her ears, and for a moment, she wonders whether they are coming from the audio or from her dripping pussy, and her thighs tighten around her wrist. She could only imagine the sight of his hands splayed over her hips and on her belly, perfectly pastel painted nails pressing into her wet skin. The shifting of her mattress worries her for only a moment, but her shame melts away, and she loses herself in the sound of his heavy, stifled groans, as if he is truly choking on her. The addition of the vibrator only serves to tease her more as she inches toward the end, brutally building in slow, abrupt waves. She struggles to swallow her whimpers.
He spits suddenly, and her hips jut forward at the sound, an erotic display of dominance, but he makes it seem like such a tender act; she could just melt.
“Can you take another?”
A beat of silence and a sharp intake of breath, squelching sounds growing louder.
“No? That’s alright, lovie, just two, then,” he coos. Her toes curl up a little at his words, hips rising from the mattress. On any other night, she would have craved more; she would have wanted him to coax her open with him telling her that she can take just one more and that she’s his good girl. It’s sad to be turned on by a man simply respecting her limits, but her clit throbs pitifully and some arousal slips out into her underwear.
“Gonna come for me, babe?” His words are slurred and wet. “Make me proud.”
Chills rushing down her spine, her body curls into itself, eager for her release. She wants to come so badly; she wants to feel the pleasure for days afterward, to tremble around her hand until she can’t take it anymore, to come until she’s seeing stars. She wants to make him proud, but she knows that she can’t come yet, or else she won’t be able to hear him finish. She doesn’t have another orgasm in her tonight, and she wants to prolong this experience as much as possible, even if that means holding out on her orgasm. The world spins behind her tightly screwed eyes as she slows her ministrations, the vibrator ticking back down to nothing. Her body reacts before she can even consider the loss, her hips bucking against the toy, attempting desperately to find that little bit of stimulation she needs to finally reach euphoria.
His lips smack loudly as he presses simulated kisses to skin, pulling her back from her foggy mind.
“So good f’me, pretty,” he says, words muted by skin. “So good. Hmm, I knew you could be quiet.” His kisses are slow and tired, unlike before when they were rushed and eager. His mattress grumbles as he moves once again, taking his time to, presumably, trail up the length of her trembling body until they’re suffocating in each other's embrace.
He sighs behind closed lips, heavy and wanton, and she can picture him working his hips into the mattress to find some sort of release. She would pull him up until he was right between her aching legs and press her lips to his neck, feeling his pulse jump at the contact. She would cup his cock through his thin pair of pajamas, teasingly massaging him until he just couldn't take it anymore, caution flying out of his mind as he is overcome by thoughts of her name, her skin, simply <i>her. Trying to form a coherent thought, he would barely be able to hold himself up. She moans quietly at the thought.
“Babylove, we can’t—” He moans, his deep voice splintering. “I don’ know if I’ll be able to control myself.”
She has listened to this audio enough to know what to say to fill the silent gaps to fulfill the ultimate fantasy.
“Please,” she whispers into the dead air, barely audible over her roommate's voice in the next room. “Wanna feel you.” She wishes he was there for her to whisper in his ear, her fingers running up the plain of his back, feeling the heated skin tense at her words. He would quirk an eyebrow.
“Yeah? Y’wanna feel my big cock in y’tummy, pretty baby?”
“Yes,” she whimpers quietly, suddenly very aware of how much she truly wanted to be filled, to have him so impossibly close to her.
“Y’know I can’t say no to you.” She can hear the smile in his voice. She wonders what it looks like, if he beams with an eye-searing grin, his face splitting with happiness, or if he has a shy little smirk, just barely toying on his lips. She likes to think that he has a beautiful smile, filled with warmth and love. She melts a little, a rush of adrenaline coursing through her limbs to the tips of her fingers.
“Get on top.”
She does, eyes still closed as she sits and kneels on her mattress, one hand still between her legs, trying desperately to catch her poor, swollen clit at just the right angle that will leave her thighs quaking, her stomach clenching. Her underwear, which are still stuck around her knees, stretch and snap as her thighs slip and spread further on the sheets.
He moans sharply, and she can feel her hips unconsciously move, as if to pull that sound from him once again. The low vibrations from her little handheld leave her aching for more, nothing more than a faint rumble, but if she flicked it up to the next highest setting, it would surely be heard through the thin walls. Besides, she loves the teasing nearly as much as she hates it, just pushing to the brink before the rush subsides and settles into a quiet lull. Speechless, she gasps for air as yet another jilted orgasm subsides.
She works her hips slowly, careful of the squeaking of her mattress; there are only so many noises that can be passed off as her simply shifting around in her sleep. Her wrist aches at such an awkward angle, but she continues, the burning euphoria just beyond the horizon. He moans, and she nearly follows him, a crest of a cry nearly bursting from her chest but it comes out as a small whimper. She pushes her earbud deeper into her ear, as if to pull him closer.
“Sorry, jus’ feel so good,” he says sheepishly, and she can tell that he’s biting his lip by the faint lisp in his words. It would be torture for the both of them, to be so close but unable to move any faster or harder to finally reach the deepest, most pleasurable part, just barely scratching the itch for intimacy. He whimpers pitifully, and she thinks she might fall apart at the sound, but her stupid vibrator leaves her teetering back and forth between over the edge. She wiggles her hips to try to get a better angle, but with just a hint of stimulation, it’s a torturously slow build up.
“There it is, pretty,” he says, breaths faltering. “That’s the spot. Make yourself feel good, lovie. Use me.” Her legs ache at the awkward angle, trembling with overexertion. She wishes that she could let go of it, leaving it on the mattress with her pussy and thighs holding it in place, so she can grind on it, unhindered by her own body’s exhaustion, eagerly chasing her high. It would also free her hands to tease her breasts again, pulling and pinching at her hardened nipples.
“Love the way you feel, babylove,” he whispers. “Fuck, so wet f’me.” He curses again and again, as if no other words can properly describe the feeling of her, so soft, so warm, so fucking good. She could only picture him in abridged visions, his undoubtedly pretty lips parted with his pretty whimpers sneaking through, his features pinched in pleasure. Her eyes roll back as her orgasm quickly approaches.
“‘M gonna come,” he says suddenly. “Are you close, too?” She whimpers, arousal slips down her swollen lips and into her furiously working fingers, eager to finish alongside him. “Yeah? Y’gonna come with me? Y’gonna come on my cock, pretty?”
She is so close, so unbelievably close, and she struggles to relax her muscles to hold off for just a little longer.
“So fuckin’ good, such a good fuckin’ girl,” he says sharply. His mattress squeaks now, unable to hold back the sharp jolts of his hips, and he lets go of all inhibitions, moaning freely. She could imagine his hand tracing up her belly, cupping her swinging breasts, and he would suckle on her nipples until her fervent hips faltered. He would brush his hands up the curve of her back, digging into the muscles of her shoulders until she fell forward. Faces nestled together, interlocking like pieces of a puzzle, they would breathe each other in, savoring such a close moment of intimacy. It would feel like a lifetime as they waited with bated breath, using each other to get the most pleasure possible.
She comes when he does, holding her breath to keep the moans from slipping, which makes it all the more euphoric, the chance of nearly getting caught at her most vulnerable and the faint lightheadedness making her vision foggy. Her orgasm leaves her legs trembling, slipping away from her still buzzing toy, falling forward into her sheets. She breathes in sharply, barely holding back a pained cry; fat tears of pleasure soak into her blanket as euphoria crashes and beats into her muscles. The heart-racing, earth-shattering, limb-thrashing orgasm makes her chest heave. Just like she wanted, she is left spent on her mattress, the powerful rush still lingering in her trembling body.
She flips onto her back, quickly pulling her bottoms back up onto her hips. In her drunken stupor, her earbuds fell out, and she can vaguely hear Tango’s praises. She picks her phone back up, eyes straining under the bright light, and closes out of the audio.
Her head is light, foggy with the residual high. A dazed smile flickers over her lips, exhaustion settling deep in her bones, finally satiated by her orgasm.
She scrolls through his account once again, this time reading through some of his other posts, like links to playlists and cute stories. Suddenly, the little message icon in the corner looks so appealing, teasing and taunting. Perhaps, she’s feeling a little giddy from her high or maybe it’s from the exhaustion, but she can’t seem to find a reason to not do it.
She sends him a message.
Meanwhile, Harry stares at the blinking cursor petulantly. It taunts him amidst a sea of white, a blank canvas in what should have been a completed midterm paper that’s due in a couple of days. His eyes sink closed, and he starts to drift off, only waking when his hand slips from his cheek, knocking his glasses askew. An old sitcom plays in the background, the canned laughter providing a break in the silence every five seconds. He sighs for the billionth time that evening, struggling to find motivation to even think at this point.
His phone dings, and he happily divulges the distraction, his brows furrowing as he reads a direct message from a user called honeyhi. He’s used to getting comments on his post, with the occasional direct message (which he usually deletes instantly because of poor past experiences), and now, he usually doesn’t think much of them. He isn’t doing it to gain anything from anyone. He just wants to put his thoughts out there, and it’s just an added bonus to get validation from beautiful people.
She doesn’t have a profile picture, not uncommon on that corner of the web, especially since his posts aren’t a lot of people’s taste. He wouldn’t usually indulge in them, deleting them usually instantly, but something compels him to open her message.
Not to be too forward, but I had the best orgasm of my life, listening to your audios. I’ve listened to your audios for a long time, and honestly, listening to you has become the highlight of my evenings ;)
Honey, you have no idea what that means to me.
Truly, his heart swells at her sweet words. It’s nice to get complimented on something you put so much effort into. He bares himself for strangers, expressing such an intimate part of himself for their shared pleasure, and it feels reassuring to get compliments.
I mean it. Also, Tango in the Night is arguably one of Fleetwood Mac’s best albums. Definitely top three.
Most people assume it’s a sex thing.
I wonder why.
He laughs a little at the dry comment.
So, what are the other two in your top three albums?
Pre or post Stevie Nicks?
Post, of course. What kind of question is that?
That was a test. You passed. I think we’ll get along just fine, Tango.
I think so, too, Honey.
Y/N rushes past the postman, nearly toppling over when her bag shifts slightly on her arm, her thick binders peek out of the top and dig into her arm. Her hand furiously slaps the elevator button, and she stands impatiently, her dangling keys shaking at her hip. The doors tremble as the weight teeters down to the main floor, far too slowly in her opinion. For a moment, she considers just running up the three flights of stairs to her floor, but that feels a little too eager.
She and Tango have their weekly phone call tonight, and her classes ran long today; that coupled with the stand-still traffic made her more anxious than usual to get home. She always calls first, since her schedule is the most complicated, and she’ll feel absolutely awful if she was late for their call. She feels silly getting worked up over such a small thing, but their friendship progressed beyond the occasional messages in the past month, and she honestly looks forward to their weekly talks. Tango is such a beautiful and humble person, and he is such a stable place of comfort. She knows that he will be understanding and have an independent, secondary perspective on any situation.
He is someone she can rely on for just about anything.
The bell dings above her, and the elevator doors finally part. After barreling inside, she sinks against the railing, glancing at the time, which is still just before her usual calling time. She sighs sharply when the doors begin to close, relief tugging on her shoulders.
However, a hand pushes through the lift’s doors before they can shut, and she bites back an irritated groan; she probably could have made it to her apartment by now if she had ran up the stairs. The man slides in and gives her a grateful nod, accompanied by a small smile. Much to her delight, he presses the ‘close door’ button quickly, and they’re met with no interruptions this time. It’s a quiet ride, despite her nervous feet tapping, and he taps away on his phone,
She admires him out of the corner of her eye, forgetting momentarily about her anxiety. Half of his hair is pulled back in a small bun, exposing the darker locks underneath, and a bandana pushes back the frizzy flyaways that would normally frame his face. The thick strands curl slightly at the ends; there’s one tight coil that she wants to tug on. She could easily become enamored with him, with his pretty green eyes and day-old stubble. His bag has H.E.S embroidered on the bottom corner. A coral colored, gem necklace rests beautifully on his tanned chest, which is mostly covered by a near see-through white top, covered with a baggy, gingham jumper.
After living in the building for two years, they have run into one another on several occasions but have never really spoken. He lives on the second floor, and he goes to the university as well.
When he leaves, after offering another nod and quick smile, she calls Tango. He answers after the second ring.
“Hey, sweets,” he grumbles, not as chipper as his usual self. Her heart sinks a little. He had his midterms last week, and she can only assume that the results are not what he had hoped.
“Oh, no,” she says. “What happened?”
“‘S nothin’,” he insists, but she can hear the irritation in his voice. “‘M jus’ getting myself worked up over nothin’. How was your day?”
Clearly not wanting to talk, he changes the subject, which is something Y/N has grown used to over the past few months. He doesn’t like to vent when he’s too upset because he’s afraid of lashing out and taking his aggression out on her. Thankfully, she has also learned how to distract him. Usually, his annoyance melts away within minutes, and he is his usual, bubbly self again.
“Well, let me tell you, I nearly killed the postman today, and someone nearly hit my car today.”
“What?” He asks incredulously. “Please, elaborate.”
And so, she does.
A couple hours later, Y/N’s in her kitchen, making avocado and tomato toast for the fifth time this week. Her roommate is gone for the weekend, thankfully, which means she can get more stuff done without interruptions (and she can talk to Tango for as long as she wants without getting interrogated about it). His mood had improved significantly after she was able to make him laugh at her own expense (he especially liked the story about how she grabbed her iced coffee too quickly this morning and spilled it all over the barista’s hand).
“I have a question,” he says quickly, as if he wouldn’t have the courage to ask if he held onto it for a moment longer.
“Okay,” she says slowly, almost fearful at the sudden change of tone in his voice.
“Would you be able to listen to something I recorded the other day?” He giggles nervously. “I dunno. I just feel a little,” he makes a little noise, “off about it.”
Stunned, she stares at her phone, the seconds ticking by before her very eyes, and despite the fact that the only reason why they know each other is because she listened to his audios, she’s a little taken aback by the question. Before she knows it, too much time has passed for her to brush off as anything but bewilderment. She stutters.
“I—uh—sure?”
“You don’t sound too sure.”
“No, I am.” Stubborn and not willing to back down, she digs herself a deeper hole, despite the odd feeling growing in her stomach. “Yes, I will listen to it for you.”
“Okay, then,” he says breathlessly. “I’ll send it to you.”
Neither know what to say now. Conversation usually came easy to them, so it feels so strange to be stuck in such an uncomfortable silence. Now, she’s gone and ruined everything because of her hesitation. Why did she even hesitate? There’s no reason to be embarrassed. They’re both very open, sexual people, and it’s nothing to get so worked up over. Maybe, it’s the fact that it’s him, and she knows him so well now. Compared to before, when he was just some stranger on the internet, she knows his likes, dislikes; hell, she has even spoken to his cat, and it feels wrong because he is her friend, and that’s not what friends are supposed to do.
“It’s not weird. Is it?” He asks shyly.
“Of course not.” She says it a little too quickly. Admittedly, it feels a <i>little weird, now that she thinks about it. It would be like walking in on your friend having sex. Then again, the only reason why they really know each other is because she listened to his audios (which is basically him jerking off to his dirty thoughts). However, it’s not an aspect they spoke about too often, usually after a couple of drinks. Their friendship, despite how it began, is purely innocent. They were each other’s comfort person; they were there to vent, laugh, and talk with. Neither ever hinted toward anything different, other than the occasional, playful flirting.
“No, I’ll listen to it for you. What are friends for?”
She doesn’t know why her heart is beating so fast.
“Thank you,” he says.
“So,” she says, “do you want me to listen to it now?”
“Eager, are we?” He hums teasingly.
“Shut up,��� she scoffs.
“I mean, if you wanted to hear some dirty talk, all you had to do was ask.”
“Please, stop talking.”
“Y’know I’m always down to clown.”
“I’m hanging up now.”
True to her words, she doesn’t wait for him to answer before she ends the call.
Her phone dings a second later with the link along with another cheeky message. The link is to a private web upload platform, and she feels special for a moment. She wonders if she should just listen to it while eating her toast and go about her usual routine, or if she should do what she usually does when listening to his audios. Is that what he would want, though? Would it make him feel uncomfortable? Is it more weird to just listen to him moan in her ear while doing mundane tasks around the house?
Granted, they have had some conversations about sex and the like, but this feels so much more intimate, especially because he knows that she’s going to listen to him jerk off, not to even mention the obscene things that come from his mouth.
What does it mean for their friendship? Perhaps, it’s not even meant to mean anything, just a sincere favor asked between two friends. Maybe, it’s meant to be a step toward something more on his part. Is that even what she wants?
She brushes off that thought quickly, as she has for months, because deep down, she knows it would just end up in disappointment.
Oh, what a mess.
She’s headed on a downward spiral that has no chance of stopping unless it’s hit by a freight train to hell.
She opts to forgetting her toast and slips into her bedroom, falling onto her blankets giddily. She presses play on the audio, her heart racing as it loads, and leaves her phone face down next to her ear, eyes closing to fully immerse herself, trying to ignore her anxiety.
“Hello,” he says slowly, almost shyly, and it feels like one of their late nights again, with him talking through her phone and her cuddled in bed, listening eagerly. “I’ve just gotten home, but I’ve been thinkin’ about this all day. Couldn’t go to sleep before gettin’ it out there, y’know.” He giggles, a pretty little noise she’s heard many times now. He laughs a lot, sometimes at himself, but mostly in response to her. He even laughs at her corny, little puns, which she appreciated.
“And ‘m really hard right now, so that doesn’t help either. I haven’t really been able to come in the past two weeks. Been too busy with… life, I guess. But a friend of mine talked to me about the world of BDSM. She’s a kinky little shit.”
Y/N’s heart lurches, stomach twisting with an unrecognizable feeling, knowing that the certain friend he is talking about is her. She remembers the conversation well, even though she was a little tipsy and very high, mostly because it was also the first time they had actually spoken on the phone, and it began as it normally does, about mundane things that happened that week. Somehow, the conversation shifted to kinks, and she told him that she wouldn’t be opposed to more sinful acts in the bedroom, most of which her previous partners had not indulged.
“I’m pretty vanilla, I guess. I just love to love people. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. I’ve never really been into that sort of thing, but now, I can’t stop thinking about it, and I’ve been kinda into some dark, dom stuff lately,” he admits slowly. “Dark for me, at least, which, again, doesn’t say much.” There’s another laugh, radiant and delicate.
“I dunno why, but I’ve been fantasizing about taking you into our room. A little lackluster, I know, but I’m not into the dark, dingy places, like those sex dungeons they have in the movies, where there’s lots of leather, red lights, music, quite the ambience.” He stops suddenly, and she could imagine his lips pursing to cease his ramblings. She wishes he wouldn’t do that so much; she wishes that he wouldn’t doubt himself and his beautiful way with words. If only he could be as confident in himself as she is in him.
“I just want to lay you down on our bed with our fluffy blankets pushed off to the side. Then, if either of us need to take a moment or stop, we can.” Her heart swells a little at his words. Even though he’s trying to talk about, in his words, “dark, dom stuff”, he is still so sweet and considerate, and she can’t help but soften. He trails off.
Faintly, she can hear him yank his belt from the loops, and it’s, honestly, one of the hottest things she has ever heard; the teasing glimpse of what could come far more erotic than anything any of her other partners could do. She could only imagine what it would feel like to have him in front of her, shirtless with his pants low on his hips; maybe he would be wearing the same floral pants he is in his profile picture, the ones that are unbelievably tight. She would be splayed on the bed, just observing this beauty of a man, waiting patiently for him to come and ravish her.
She’s sure that his tattoos cover more than just his arms, but how many more is a question that haunts her. The thought of a big tattoo on his thigh that she can grind on while he moans about how much of a good girl she is has led to many obscene dreams. She imagines black images carved into his chest, perhaps a trail of floating rose petals from his collar bone to his peck or a hellish looking snake wrapped around his waist. More vividly, she envisions a bold tattoo just beneath his belly button, one that she would scratch at while he violently pounded into her, one that she would kiss and lick before she would take him in her mouth.
Oh, what she would do to be able to feel his skin on hers.
She dips her hand beneath the band of her shorts out of habit, toying with the silky material of her panties. She tries not to think too much about her feelings, fearing it would deepen the ache in her heart.
“Anyway, you’d be on the bed,” he says, his usual slow, stifling voice pulling her deeper into the fantasy, “naked, on your knees with your pretty pussy facing me. You’re all tied up, starting at your wrists and ankles, and there would be a pretty knot down your spine that I can grab while I fuck you from behind.”
Her cunt throbs at the sudden turn. She could only imagine: her face pressed into the pillows, choking on the sheets, her muscles tight, aching beneath the restraints, and her voice raw, sobbing from overstimulation. Exhausted and wanton, she would take anything that he would be willing to give her. He would shove her face into the mattress, mounting her, and he would tug on the rope until it felt like it would permanently embedded in her wet skin, telling her how much of a good little slut she is, taking him so well.
She doesn't know why she’s drawn to rope play; perhaps, it’s all a part of the subtle nuances of the sex, the intimacy of tying the complex binds around your partner and the intricacies of sensory manipulation with such overwhelming stimulation. It’s so much more than just being bound while fucking. There is such a deep reliance on the other person to understand your body, your limits, your needs. It’s about trust and vulnerability. She thinks of it in such a melodic and romantic way; it must have resonated with Tango.
“Or I’d tie your arms to your legs, keeping you spread open for me on your back, with knots around your belly, the lead falling between your tits.” Her eyes flutter closed. While rope play is something that she has always wanted to try but never felt comfortable enough with another person to act on it. He would be different though. She cups her pussy, languidly running her fingers through her wet folds, feeling the arousal slip down her skin before settling on her sheets.
She pinches her clit, and her legs immediately jerk around her arm. Feeling far too sensitive for that type of stimulation, she simply strokes through her lips, focusing her ministrations on the delicate inside, close to her sopping entrance, enjoying the slow build.
“Then, I could hold onto your neck while I fuck you, and I like being able to see your face, to see how good I’m making you feel, to see tears of pleasure run down your pretty face. You could suck on my fingers while I fuck you, deep and hard. D’ya wanna choke on my fingers, pretty?”
She wants absolutely nothing more. She would gladly suck on his fingers if it meant that she could see the look of awe in his eyes, lust darkening his features when she bites teasingly on his nail.
“But if you’re on your knees, I could watch you in the mirror and still see your face. From behind, I can see your pretty, tight pussy take my cock.” He whimpers. “I haven’t decided which I would rather have.”
She can’t decide, either.
Then again, they could always have both.
“Of course, I wouldn’t give you my cock that easily. No, you’re going to be crying for me, begging for me to fuck you, and I dunno if I would fuck you right away or make you beg for it. I think for the first bit, after you’re all tied up for me, I’ll tease you, just barely touching you, pulling on the lead, the ropes tightening around your aching body. I think your tits would look so pretty all tied up f’me, babylove.
“When you’ve finally had enough, crying for me to stuff you full of my cock, I’d let you come, but I’d only use my fingers, never giving you what you really want. Maybe I’ll put a little vibrator on your clit and leave you there, having you come again and again until it hurts. I’d have you keep your panties on, of course. Don’t want you making a mess of the sheets, and then, when I finally give you my cock, I’ll put them in your mouth to keep you quiet, and so you can taste yourself.”
His moans are in the forefront in his sensual song, mixed amongst a symphony of bed and friction sounds. She matches his pace, flicking her wrist in time with the sound of him working his wet cock. She massages the entirety of her pussy, messily rubbing her fingers from the tip of her poor, swollen clit to her throbbing opening.
“Fuck, babylove, you’d be so good f’me, taking my cock so deep in your pussy. Would you cry f’me, pretty? Cry for daddy to fuck you into the mattress.” A rumbling groan finally breaks free, and she is so close to falling apart, her high festering into her muscles, burning through her nerves; her skin feels hot to the touch. She struggles to breathe, but she doesn't yearn for air as much as she does her end. Tears in her eyes, she clutches onto her blanket, tugging it in her mouth to keep from crying too loudly. She sobs, feeling a familiar tightness in her body, just beyond her grasp. Her hand still moves over her pussy, arousal seeping through trembling fingers, but she can’t reach her peak with such light, varied stimulation, her hips buckling.
“My pretty rope bunny,” he mutters. He’s desperate, truly just rambling on and on about anything that comes to mind. “My pretty honey,” he whimpers, almost inaudibly, “honey, honey.”
For a second, she thinks of the times that word has passed through his lips in less sinful situations, a slow, lulling honey when he’s trying to get her attention, sweet and innocent. That’s his special name for her, and she wonders if, possibly, he thinks about her in the same way she does, if he wishes to be with her in such an intimate way, just as she does. She thinks, incredulously, that maybe she isn’t overanalyzing the situation.
His bed squeaks faintly in the background, just barely heard over his withering voice. She can only begin to imagine what he looks like in that moment, legs tense, feet digging into the mattress, his hips thrusting to fuck himself into his fist. The head of his cock would peek through the top of his fist as he coerced his release free. She wishes she could see what he looks like when he comes, when he finally reaches his most euphoric moment. It’s such a primal thing to witness, to see someone liberated of all inhibitions, to observe them completely succumbing to their instincts. It’s such a beautiful thing to see someone acquiesce control and thrive so harmoniously with their body.
“I wanna wrap my belt around your throat.” He swallows thickly. She whines along with him. Perhaps, she’s just fooling herself, but she can swear that she could almost hear the sound of a leather belt squeezing in his fist. A pitiful pool of wetness slips between her ass cheeks.
“My cock hurts just thinking about how you’d sound.” He moans, mimicking the desperate heaves that would undoubtedly slip through her lips as he pulls his belt tightly around her throat. “Then, when you’re bratty, I can just wrap my hand around the belt and make it tighter.
“Please,” he mocks weakly, “please, sir, I’ll be good. But you’re just saying that to get what you want. You’re just a naughty, little slut aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she returns weakly.
“Maybe, I could get you a collar and pull you around with that. Would you like that?” He hums. “Of course, you would. You’re my pretty, little bunny.”
In any other instance, she would feel humiliated to be so aroused at being so weak and submissive to another, but he could convince her to do anything at this point. She’s close, toes curling and muscles tightening, and she waits for his familiar profession that he is also near the edge, but the silence that follows is deafening, a disappointing resolution to an intense narrative. It makes her stop completely, wet hand flipping her phone over to see that, indeed, she had listened to all of the audio. It knocks the air from her lungs when she realizes that that was it. She isn’t going to hear his cute little whimpers as he comes nor his sweet aftercare.
Frustrated from her ruined orgasm, she calls him instantly, and he picks up after the fourth ring this time, as if he <i>knows</i> that she is this needy and frustrated. She doesn’t give him the chance to greet her.
“That couldn’t have been all of it.”
“Well, hello to you, too—”
“I didn’t get to hear you come.”
“Is that what you wanna hear, honey?”
“Well, yeah, I always come with—” She stops before she says something she’ll regret, but by the sound of his laughter, it’s already too late. She wants to hide away in embarrassment.
“It’s only partially finished. I thought I told you that.” She can hear the teasing smirk he surely has plastered on his face, the cheeky bastard. “I just wanted to hear what you thought so far before I finished it. There’s no point in finishing something that I already feel isn’t worth the time.”
“Well, then,” she stutters quickly, “How does it end?”
“How do you think it should end?”
There’s a certainty in his words, as if he has already accepted her as a lover, and she knows that he is giving her the opportunity to initiate the next step. Fear squeezes her chest, and for a second, she worries that she isn’t brave enough to follow through. Every fiber of her being is pleading with her to just take that risk, but another, more rational side of her, is saying it’s better to say a quick I don’t know, and they would move on as normal.
“Where would you come?”
Oh, it feels so filthy to ask that, but it’s so relieving to hear the hum of approval that passes through his lips.
Her heart races, not like before; this is exciting and new and arousing, and it feels wrong. She doesn’t even know what he looks like; hell, she doesn’t even know his real name, and she’s so fucking ready and willing to give herself to him. There’s just so many reasons to not pursue him. She feels ashamed, almost, that she is weak for a man she knows nothing about.
“Hmm, that’s a good question. Where would you like me to come?”
But how can she not get weak when he asks her things like that?
Shivers bloom on her skin in sunflower blossoms. She knows what he wants to hear, and usually, she would tease him, telling him that he didn’t care if he even came or not, but the throbbing between her legs is relentless, and she’s just lust-drunk that she’ll say just about anything to get what she needs. She begins rubbing herself again, focusing solely on her clit this time instead of the entirety of her pussy in the palm of her hand. Breathing out shakily, she answers honestly.
“Everywhere.”
He moans, and she knows that was the right answer.
“Everywhere? Such a greedy girl. You want me to come down your throat? You wanna taste it? Maybe, I’ll have you choke on my cock, fuck y’face until you’re crying.”
After he was done fucking her, she’s sure that he would yank her up either by the rope around her breasts or by the belt around her neck (she can’t decide which yet) and put his cock by her mouth, rubbing himself over her lips and chin, but never quite pushing past the barrier of her lips; no, she would be the one to open her sweet mouth for him, her jaw lax and tongue wet as she takes everything he’d give her.
God, yes, she wants to taste him. She wants him to use her in every possible, degrading way: to use her mouth while she tied up, under his mercy, to fuck her face until she has tears dripping down her cheeks, wetting her heaving chest, to come down her throat until she’s choking on him, but he would pinch her nose and make her taste it until her vision was blurry.
“You’d take it all, babylove. Won’t you?”
He asks so innocently, his deep voice having a soft twinge, but she knows that it’s not optional, not that she would choose otherwise. She would greedily lap at his cum and drink it all, proudly showing off her empty mouth when she’s done. Maybe, he would insist that she keep it in her mouth and pull her into a wet, heated kiss, prying her lips apart so he can taste himself on her tongue.
“I could make a mess on your belly or your tits, and then, I could lick you clean. Or I could mark up your thighs and watch it drip onto the sheets.”
The thought of him marking her with his come is nearly enough for her to reach her peak. A voice in the back of her head chastises her for being so greedy; this is something she has fantasized about since they started talking, and it’s going to be over before it can even begin at this rate. She needs to distract herself, to focus on anything other than the painful throbbing between her legs.
“Or I could come inside you.”
That’s the last thing she needed to hear.
Only because it makes a thick bead of arousal seep into her sheets. It makes her finally give in and sink two fingers inside herself, and <i>fuck, she’s so wet and swollen and pliable. She sobs, truly biting back even louder cries behind gritted teeth. She curses again and again at the feeling coursing through her veins, heat spreading in her belly as her hips frantically move against her ministrations.
“By the sound of that moan, I think that’s definitely preferred. Such a filthy girl. Y’want me to fill your belly? Want me to mark you as mine?”
She just knows that he could fill her to the brim, but he would want to prolong the experience as much as possible, teasing her with his cock and coaxing her to beg for his cum.
She could just imagine the determined look in his eyes, so close to coming, but he would pull out, just barely teasing her trembling entrance with his twitching cock. He wouldn’t move, and when she would beg for him to put it back in and just fuck her until she couldn’t breath, he would say very simply: if y’want my cum so bad, put my cock back inside.
God, his face would be gleaming with this power, satisfied with seeing her so needy for his cum. Shamefully, she would put one of her hands on his hip while the other grasps his cock, pushing on him until he sinks entirely inside her once again, but he still wouldn’t move, simply filling her, the both of them twitching with arousal. He would demand that she make him come if she wants it so bad, as if it's a gift from the heavens.
“Are you touching yourself?” He asks, and only then does she realize that she was drowning in her fantasy; the sudden change makes her stop rubbing herself, her vision hazy. She parts her lips with wet fingers, slipping back down to her entrance, gently prodding inside until that euphoria builds once again.
“Yes,” she admits shamefully. “‘M so fucking wet for you.”
“Dirty little slut,” he says sharply. He has no room to judge, especially since she can hear the all-too-familiar sounds to him jerking his cock, wet sounds of his fist passing over the thick head echoing in her empty room. She is near tears at this point, so needy and high and horny, but she wants to make this last.
“Would you let me come? Please, can I come?”
It’s his turn to moan with approval, and she feels proud. His heavy breathing in time with hers, he seems to be lost in pleasure, voice hitching as he struggles to find words. Her orgasm swells to a near crest once again, but she wants to hear him finish. At this point, she knows what it sounds like, from the frantic ramblings to the guttural moans, and he’s not quite there yet.
“Do you think you deserve to come, honey? You think you’ve been a good girl f’me?”
“Yes, I’m a good girl—fuck—please, please, I need to come.” She stumbles through her words, what little power she held in her withering grasp deflating instantly from his words.
“I dunno, I think you’re a brat who just wants to get off.”
It’s painful how much his words impact her, volatile muscles spasming while she staves of hee end. She whimpers, sinking further in her headspace; she feels a cloud settle in her vision (or perhaps those are tears), overwhelming yet freeing.
“No, I’m your good girl,” she insists.
“I think you’ll have to prove it to me, honey,” he replies slyly. “I don’t think I’ll let you come quickly. I want you to beg for it. Can you do that f’me, babylove? Beg me to come.”
“Fuck, I’m so close,” she says. “Please, please, I need it. Please, let me come.”
“You can do better than that,” he says, voice cracking. Their harmonious sounds of excitement drive both of them closer to their orgasms.
“Oh, god—please, I—fuck—I need it so bad. ‘M so close, please.” She can barely speak coherently. Chills wrack her sore body, waves of throbbing pleasure threatening to break her. She wanted—no, needed—him to finish.
“Come f’me, Honey,” he says. “You’re my good girl, so good f’me. C’mon, babylove, come with me.”
She does. With ears ringing and eyes closing, she comes until her pussy aches. It feels never ending, euphoria consuming every part of her sweat-laden flesh, chilling and fiery, for hours—or perhaps only seconds. She can’t tell.
“Thank you,” she whispers, her vision blurry. Her body trembles with residual aftershocks of her intense orgasm. She lays spread open on her bed, her pussy still too sensitive to close her legs entirely.
“Thank you for letting me come.” In her daze, her limbs fall away limply. All she can do is exist at this moment. She vaguely wonders if he finished with her, the thought of his deep moans fueling another fire. A part of her is disappointed that she wasn't present enough to listen to him, but another part knows that more opportunities will come.
“You’re so welcome, honey,” he says sweetly. “I think we both really needed that today.”
She hums, still recovering from such a powerful end. She slowly regains her breathing.
“I guess I should be thanking you because that’s one of the best orgasms I’ve ever had,” he says. She laughs.
“You flatter me.”
“I’m serious. Nearly gave myself a pearl necklace.”
And just like that, everything continues as normal. Both know that the other is naked and satiated, but neither feels uncomfortable with the fact. If anything, it makes things relieved, open, or comfortable. They’re both giggly in the golden after-glow.
“What does this mean for us, Honey?”
As, yes, the dreaded ‘talk’. Fear immediately spikes in her veins, and she struggles to find her words. Before she can answer, he begins speaking again.
“Look, I really like talking with you, and I don’t want this to make things weird, but I meant what I said earlier. That was probably one of the best orgasms of my life, and I don’t think that I could live without your pretty little moans now that I’ve heard them. Maybe, we can do that again. We don’t have to put a label on it or anything, if you don’t want to.”
Her heart sinks. Is that all that he wants?
“Right, it doesn’t have to be anything serious, just us having some stress relief.” Her words are dry and forced, feeling like bile in her mouth. She grits her teeth. What the hell had she just gotten herself into?
“Hey, uh, it’s late, and I have to wake up early tomorrow. Same time next week?”
She hopes that he doesn’t think that she regrets what they did, and she hopes he doesn’t think too much into her abrupt ending of the call. It’s not a total lie; she does have work early tomorrow morning, but she has had more than a few days where she was running on two hours of sleep and a miracle. She just wants to get off the phone before he hears the contemplation in her voice.
“You think I can wait a week after that? You have too much faith in me.”
“I think you’ll survive, babe,” she says.
“Good night, babylove.”
“Good night.”
She falls asleep quickly after, dreaming of the nameless, faceless man who she bares her soul to.
Later that night, as Harry edits the finally finished audio, he thinks back to Honey and their mutual pleasure, feeling like an absolute idiot for saying that it was nothing serious. He wasn’t expecting her to agree so emphatically, so quickly.
Although, what had he expected? He was the one who suggested it. No matter, he can’t have a relationship right now, especially a long distance one. He would just end up getting hurt, but he likes her too much to stop talking to her completely. He finally took their relationship further even if it won’t lead to anything more.
“Are you ready to admit defeat?”
Y/N lets out a breathy laugh, despite her current situation, her hand rubbing leisure circles on her already sensitive clit, which still throbs from her first orgasm of the night. Tango murmurs praise in her humming ears.
She’s not really sure what they are, and she doesn’t want to think about it. It would only complicate things more.
Friends? Definitely.
Well, maybe not definitely, since she doesn’t even know his name, but what other word could she use to define their relationship? What sort of friends would say such filthy things to each other? Why would he call her ‘my honey’ so emphatically if they were ‘just friends’? Too afraid of misinterpreting his intentions and embarrassing herself, she doesn’t mention anything, and he never does either, but it keeps her awake at night, wondering what they could be if she could just put her feelings to words.
This would be the second hour of their phone call, and it only took them ten minutes for the conversation to turn into one of their “stress relieving sessions”. Both of them had a terrible day; she was late for the first day at her new job (they were understanding given the circumstances, but it still left a sour taste in her mouth), and he slept through an exam. She eased him into a submissive headspace quickly, babbling about what a good boy he is and how proud she is of him. Within minutes, he came, and she whispered all the filthy things she wanted to do to him until he was completely spent, his cock milked of all remnants of his seed, twitching and throbbing with empty orgasms.
He easily fell into the dominant headspace after his quick high, and he was adamant that he could make her come more than any of her other partners, even without him truly there. She knows that he can; hell, she has touched herself to his voice more times than she could count, but she likes teasing him, hearing him get all riled up and stubborn.
“Are you gonna come again, honey?”
“Nope,” she breathes, “Not even a little close.”
“You’re obviously lying or not trying,” he says sharply, and a sense of pride swells in her chest at her ability to get a rise out of him without even trying. She smirks.
“What are you gonna do? Punish me?”
“I might have to.”
She’s sure he would, too, but it would be in the most pleasurable way possible, with his mouth and fingers and cock stimulating her until she comes so many times she can’t take anymore. Her fingers trace her most intimate area, nails scraping against her quivering core. She sinks two fingers inside, feeling her sopping pussy swallow them easily, adjusting quickly and craving more. She tries to find that sweet, spongy spot inside her, but she can’t seem to reach it.
“Wish it was your fingers,” she mumbles, her movements certain and even, but it’s never enough for her greedy body.
“Yeah, lovie?” He croons, “they’d be so big in your tight little pussy.” She hums, wishing that he was there to stuff her in every way possible.
“Would you wear your rings?”
“For you? Of course.” Her eyes roll back at the thought; his thick fingers could tear her at the seams, and with the added texture of his rings, she would be coming within seconds. Her clit throbs, blood rushing in time with her racing heart, and she massages it harder, wanton and waiting for yet another release. “C’mon, babylove, Come for me. Make me proud,” he coaxes. His words make her fall over that edge once more, thighs shaking and pussy weeping. She’s sure there’s a creamy stain beneath her, seeping into her wet skin.
“Again,” he demands. She thinks she may break. “Keep going, babylove. Where’s that toy you told me about?”
He knows that she won’t be able to come much longer on her own, with the pain overwhelming the pleasure.
“It’s so far away,” she whines.
“Go grab it, love,”
Her legs tremble as she twists around, reaching blindly into her bedside drawer. She can’t close her legs too much without getting overstimulated; her legs ache and twitch. Once the toy is situated just above her clit, she ticks it on. Her body reacts immediately, limbs jolting about, hips ducking away, and her voice catching. Gasping, she almost wants to take the toy away, the stimulation being far too much.
He thinks differently.
“Turn it up higher, lovie,” he says so sweetly. Her chest feels like it could almost collapse into itself. Still dizzy from her orgasm, she’s not sure if she can take it, her body fighting against her. She wants to beg and plead for something, but she doesn’t even know what for. Is it for yet another orgasm that will surely be more powerful that any other? Or is it for the burning at every nerve ending to stop?
“I dunno—”
“You can take it, such a good little bunny for me.”
The vibrator ticks to the next setting, a sharp, persistent sound echoes in her empty room, followed by an even louder shout. She has not control anymore. Thankfully, she’s home alone or else it would be an awkward morning with her roommate listening to her cries of pleasure well into the night. Her hand shakes, but she presses the head of the toy harder to her clit. She lets out a guttural groan, feeling euphoria seep from every pore.
“There it is,” he moans, breathing growing ragged. He’s surely jerking himself off, basking in the pleasure with her, and it makes her arousal burn deeper. She wants to put on a show for him, to egg him on and make him feel as good as he makes her feel.
“There’s my pretty girl. Let me hear you, baby.”
She can barely squeeze out a few breathless whimpers from her chest, hedonistic—no, animalistic—sobs crash through her. Pain and pleasure fight for control, just as her mind and body do.
“Feel good?”
“Yes,” she says weakly. “Feels so good.”
She comes quickly with a silent cry, her lips parted and face scrunched. Saliva slips from her open mouth, and she is unable to wipe it away, lewdly dripping down her chin to her neck before finding it’s place on her dirtied sjeets. The recovery period is quicker this time; it’s either that or her body is becoming numb to anything but pleasure. It feels like it’s never ending with the vibrator still nestled tightly to her puffy cilt. Her lips are surely swollen now too, tender from too many orgasms, yet still sopping with arousal.
“Don’t take it away,” he says, “You got another one in ya. You can do it, lovie.”
His voice is muffled beneath blankets where her phone lies, lost in her ravenous bouts of pleasure, limbs writhing and tossing. Her body aches when she twists to put it back up by her ear to hear him more clearly, muscles tight from her previous orgasms. Legs closing slightly, she whines when the toy presses harder against her clit, hips ducking away from the strong vibrations, eyes fluttering closed. Her phone falls out of her grasp once more, but the light illuminates the dark room, casting a warm glow.
“Please—”
She’s not really sure what she’s begging for; it just slips out, a weak plea. Perhaps, she just wants him to be there instead of on the other end of a phone call, in some faraway place she doesn’t even know. The room would feel so much warmer with him here, her back pressed to his chest, their sweat mingling. Maybe he would wear those pretty lace stockings he showed her a picture of once, the glittery fabric coarse against her skin as he teases his toes along her leg, keeping them spread. His freckled and inked arms wrapped tightly around her middle, paying special attention to her tummy, he would whisper sweet things in her ear and press on the area right below her belly button, telling her of how he wants to grind his pretty cock against her soft middle until she is sticky with his precum, how he can fuck himself that deep inside her. She would feel him for days after.
“I know it hurts, baby, but just one more, then you can go to bed.”
It sounds so nice, the thought of sinking into her pillows for a good night's rest, but an orgasm sounds even better, one leaving her spent and satiated and sleepy.
“Such a good girl f’me.”
As much as she wants to, the sensitivity becoming nearly unbearable, she can’t stop; she wants to make him proud, to prove to him that she’s his good girl who can take it. Even though he’s not truly there with her to hold her and make sure she comes, she still wants to do as he says. Her legs tremble, threatening to close.
She squeaks when the vibrator hits a particularly sensitive angle on her clit, and she bites into her pillow to keep from crying out. Her hips work desperately, to reach that high for the last time, just one more, like an addict itching for one more hit. It’s her fourth orgasm within ten minutes, and this might just be her breaking point.
“I dunno if I can.” Her words slur, and she can feel spit dripping down her puckered lips. She suddenly wishes he was there to wipe it away, thumb soft and subtle against her skin, lingering on her puffy lips.
“One more, babylove,” he insists. “Just one more. You’re doing so well.” She bites back a mangled cry, eyes squeezing shut, her thoughts lost in a dark chaos. His voice is the only anchor amidst a dizzying high, coaxing her through her stupor with sweet words.
“My pretty girl, my good fucking girl, taking it so well.” His gravelly voice pulls her from drowning, his words gritty from his clenched jaw. “You’re not hurting too much, are ya?”
His deep voice is soft, lilting with a tender care she needs. She could simply melt, blanketed in the warmth of his rich voice.
“A little,” she admits, a dull ache in her belly when she clenches too tightly. “But it feels so good.”
The vibrations pulse through her body, leaving her voice shaky, and she shifts slightly, hips digging into the mattress. It settles on the underside of her clit, and it’s so close to that one spot, until finally—there, there, there—right there. She groans, low and guttural, drawn out from the depths of her chest, animalistic almost. Her body burns and trembles for a second before yet another strong, unrelenting wave drowns her. Every muscle in her body tenses as the head of the vibrator finds the one tender spot on her clit, catching at just the right angle that leaves her eyes teary, world dizzy. She knows it’ll be painful if she doesn’t pull away, a harsh orgasm building, but she can’t stop, not with him listening to her, waiting for her final bitter end.
She’s doing so good for him, such a good bunny. She trembles in the wake of such a violent euphoria, weak moans slipping in time with her belated breathing. It passes through in waves, the pain, a bittersweet burning welling deep inside her, but a different ache persists, one that leaves her yearning for more, one that makes her dig her feet into the mattress and press herself harder on the toy. Her toes curl, and her back arches, free hand twisting the sheets.
He hums appreciatively.
“My bunny likes it when it hurts. Doesn’t she?”
“Yes,” she sobs, “I want it to hurt.” Hips shuttering away from the relentless vibrator, Y/N feels her final orgasm build, pain lingering around the edges as her muscles twitch.
“Such a dirty little slut.” Her back arches at his filthy words, arousal pooling beneath her. She could feel it wetting her thighs. “Just f’me, right, honey? Just my pretty slut.”
She comes quickly, eyes rolling back as it overwhelms all of her senses. She feels tense yet relaxed. A broken cry breaks from her swollen lips as she shatters, falling apart for the final time. Her muscles quiver, tiny shocks lingering in the aftermath of so many orgasms in such quick succession. Her limbs ache. Her heart races. Her pussy throbs. She knows that this will be all she can take, her body completely spent. She can’t find the energy to keep her eyes open, and they roll back.
“You alright?”
“Yeah,” she says, still struggling to find her breath and collect her thoughts, but when she does, a smile breaks her face. She feels everything and nothing all at once, so perfectly numb. She finds herself laughing incredulously because that cocky little bastard was right: he made her come more times than anyone has before. She laughs until tears slip down her warm cheeks.
This is the part where the emotions start to become just as overwhelming as her release. So much sinks in all at once, and she realizes just how alone she is, and she wishes he was here to pull her back down to earth, to hold and to love. She feels deflated. The sexual release is such a rush, but it brings devastating lows. With tears in her eyes, she struggles not to cave into herself.
“You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah,” she lies, a sob curling in her lungs, forcing its way out in a blubbering mess. Once the first one escapes, the rest follow easily. She can’t seem to stop, heaving cries wracking her already sore body as she clutches onto her pillow. She fists her phone to her ear in an attempt to be closer to him, but that makes the feeling grow worse, settling to a black hole in her stomach, sucking all euphoria from her. Tears soak into her skin and sink into her ear, muffling his comforting words.
“Let it out, babylove,” he says softly. “I know, I know. I know. Sometimes it can just get really overwhelming.” His words are gentle, just as he is, and maybe that’s what makes this even worse. He is everything she wants. He is just so perfect for her in every way, but he is ao far from her reach. Maybe it would be better if he wasn’t such a good person. Maybe that would make the yearning go away. She’s quiet, slowly breathing through stuttering sniffles.
“Hey,” he says softly, “Go pee and clean yourself up, babe. Know you don’t like feeling all wet down there. It makes your peach all sticky.”
She nods, knowing full well that he can’t see her, but doesn’t move. She honestly doesn’t think she can.
“Go on,” he murmurs when he doesn’t hear the familiar rustling of her sheets. “‘M right here, honey.”
A few more tears squeeze out of her eyes at his words. It makes her whole demeanor crumble once again; she’s upset because he’s not really there, he’s not there to hold her and kiss her and love her, and that’s not fair. She just wants to have him here to tell her that everything will be alright; she wants him to be there to laugh with, to just be with. He is such a good part of her life, but she just wishes that he could physically be there in the way she dreams.
She cleans up quickly, tossing her spent underwear into her dirty laundry. Just as she had suspected, the remnants of her orgasms stained her thighs.
What’s that ache in her chest?
“Good girl, feel better, lovie?”
She nods and whimpers, unable to calm her trembling lips.
“Good, ‘m right here, babylove. Y’did so good, so proud of you.”
She crawls back to bed moments later, shuddering breaths and swollen eyes being the only remnants of her breakdown. She sniffles and wipes her wet eyes with the back of her hand, which smells vaguely of her feminine wipes.
“Sorry, if it was too much,” he says.
“No, no need to apologize,” she says quickly to get rid of any lingering guilt he has. It felt amazing, to be tested just beyond her limits, to be pushed to a shattering breaking point, to trust him to know what she can take. “It was nice. I just sorta—” Her voice breaks. “I dunno. Everything just got a little overwhelming. I think I’m better now.”
“What do you need from me, honey?”
She nearly starts crying again at how sweet he is. She almost could imagine that only a few minutes ago he was calling her his dirty little slut and demanding her to come until she could handle it.
“Just talk to me,” she says.
“So, I saw a couple dogs today,” he begins awkwardly. “Well, I was attacked by two little frenchie’s when I was walking to class, and it completely made my day ten-times better. They were so cute with their chubby little legs.”
He rambles on about his week, and it feels nice and familiar.
She’s nearly asleep when he begins talking about his mother. Apparently, she was visiting him last week, which was nice for about a day; then, he began realizing why he moved away in the first place: she is so smothering.
“And my mum is always nagging me to go out and socialize. She was like,” he breathes in, adjusting his tone to a falsetto. “Harry, you’re never gonna be able to find anyone if you don’t…”
He continues as normal, chattering away in his low, sleepy voice. She doesn’t think he even realizes his slip up, words spluttering out of his mouth so quickly that even he probably couldn’t hear it. She smiles as sleep finally overwhelms her.
Harry.
His name is Harry.
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yestrnight · 9 months
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ OBSESSED WITH UR HYSTERIA !
FROM: yan! afab! househusband! kuni / afab! reader
SUBJECT: kuni thinks you're cheating, and the usual hysteria ensues. this relationship has got lots of red flags, like exhibit a: you absolutely dig it when he chokes you out.
( jealousy, choking, masochistic behavior <- reader, reader's kinda crazy in love, scara is too, toxic relationship, is it toxic tho when you both dig it, tribbing, pussy eating, doujin shit once again )
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your pretty lil husband is honestly too pretty for his own good.
when you first met him, your seatmate in highschool with too much talent and too little humility, you instantly became a sucker for those haughty purple eyes. you tried to be nice— you can't be a scholarship student acting like a delinquent, now can you?— but scara was… mean. cruel, even. he sneered whenever you were within the vicinity, claiming he might pass out from the stench of gutter, and laughed when you tried to ask him to teach you the lesson. 
"is the charity student trying to leech off of me?" he had said one time. "you'd be better off cleaning dishes in my house than wasting your time trying to get a future you'll never have."
you think that was the catalyst… of whatever you've become. because as soon as he walked out the door and your friends came scurrying over trying to comfort you, the old [y. name] died, and something more perverse took over.
you wanted him to ruin you.
you're not a masochist, by all means. you like your arms clean, your neck unmarked, but fuck it's just so fucking different when scara— kuni, now— has his pretty hands wrapped tightly around your bare throat.
"admit it!" he screams, glaring at you with tears and an unmatched expression of hatred and betrayal. "you're fucking your boss, i fucking know it!"
you're grinning, even as your vision becomes blurry from the deprivation of air. laughing, actually, though they barely register in your ears now. you want him carnally that it's actually become instinct. you should be prying his hands off, screaming for help, but you're desperate for more.
"you know that's not right, baby," you coo. "you're the only one i love. i swear to archons and beyond, you're the only person i'd ever love."
then the grip he has on you softens, though the bitterness in his eyes hasn't quite calmed yet. of course you love him— if you hadn't, you would have filed for a divorce long ago with all the shit he does to you. but you dig it, you're fucking in love with him and the way he treats you, and you'd think that he should've known this a long time ago already. but he isn't because kuni's fucking crazy. 
guess what, you're even fucking crazier.
"you're a liar," he whispers to you. his purple hair brushes your cheek as he stares down at you eerily. "i don't believe you."
with the way you're grinning like a goddamn maniac? you don't blame him. but you feel that same grin split your cheek as it widens, and your cunt drooling as he straddles you.
"sorry then," you croak, hearts in your eyes like your husband isn't one choke away from killing you. "how do i make it up to you then, babe?"
usually it's you who's eating out scara like a man starved, pinching and rubbing at his t-dick as you watch him scream and rut into your mouth. he forces you to make out with his pussy by pulling your hair towards it, breathless whines about how good you make him feel and how he wants more. now the tables have turned, and it's scara digging his nails into your thighs and fucking your pussy with his tongue like there's no tomorrow. he has none of the care you have when you eat him out, but still all with all the passion and fervor. 
"you're mine, you're mine, you're mine, you're mine!" scara growls against your leaking cunt, slurping your essence and letting it smear on his lips. you're in love with the image before you— kuni's angry and teary eyes glaring up at you, lips shiny with slick. "you're supposed to be my partner! i'm the one you married!"
"y–yeah, you are, kuni!" you whimper as he plunges two delicate fingers into your warm hole and curls them. "you're the only one i'll ever love!"
now you could obviously make him a tad more jealous. tease him with some lies about fucking your boss like how he assumes. that'd probably break him and push him over the edge, set an even harder pace that both you and him would enjoy. but you can't bring yourself to say such repulsive things, not when they're against the very nature of your existence. so instead you plead and whisper your love to him while he berates and admonishes you, and you enjoy every single second of it.
he sets a cruel and hard pace, pounding away at you just as good as any dick. you can feel his eyes watching your expression, and you want to watch him too. but the way he has you writhing and arching on your bed, panting as you rut into his fingers— why, you can barely even make sense of the ceiling.
"ggghhh, ngh, kuniii~♡" you whine, sobbing as you rock back into his cruel fingers. "close, close, m' so cloooseee!" archons, you're on another plane of euphoria as he keeps hitting that spot again and again and again. you're seeing stars, and you can hear your keened pitch mixed with lighthearted laughter. close… so close…!
then his fingers pull away, and you scream-sob at the loss of pleasure. dick. but not unexpected. but what a fucking dick.
he smirks down at you, a mirror image of that sadistic high school student you fell in love with years ago. these days he's softened, more huffy and shrieky, but this just proves that he's still got that bully streak you fell for. "you're not cumming without me," he whispers, staring straight at you as his fingers slip into the waistband of his shorts. he pulls it down to reveal his smooth thighs and hairless pussy, and fuck you could come from just the sight alone. 
fluttering pink pussy crying slick down his thighs, he shallowly dips two fingers into his hole as his half-lidded eyes eat up your panting and shaking fugure. "you're so pretty," he murmurs, lifting one leg to straddle you again. you groan as you feel his bare cunt squishing against your skin. "it makes sense why so many people want you… you're cool, you're hardworking, and you have this…thing that makes people obsessed with you." he caresses your cheek, twirling a strand of hair around his fingers. "it's worked on me. worked on those stupid men in high school. even at work i can see those filthy cretin staring at you as if you don't have a ring on your finger."
you shiver when his voice dips into a hateful hiss. before you can even ask how he knows that people at work stare, he leans in for a kiss. it's cute and simple at first, the ones that kuni gives when you walk out the door because he's too shy to give anything more. but then it becomes more fervent and passionate, the sum of all his hate and annoyance towards anyone who'd dare lay their eyes on you. he bites at your lip, clashes his teeth against yours, sucks on your tongue till you're sobbing into the kiss. when he pulls away, it's with a triumphant smirk as he stares at your tear-streaked face.
"not laughing right now, are you?" he sneers, wiping the spit on his lips with the back of his hand. "don't worry, babe." he laughs at the foreign endearment. "i'll fuck you so hard you'll be my brainless, laughing slut at the end of the night, yeah?"
"kuni," you whimper, not even trying to be shameless about it when you try to roll back against his sopping cunt. "i love you, only you. you know that!"
his eyes visibly soften, and once more he's just kuni, not scara. "i know," he murmurs, positioning himself at your cunt. your breath hitches when you can feel the heat of his slit on yours. just bareely touching, and you're going crazy over how close to pleasure you are. "you like to act like you're the one calling the shots around the house, fool yourself into thinking that you're the breadwinner while your pretty lil wife waits at home for you stewing in his jealousy and obsession. when in reality…"
his smirk grows as he watches your heart-eyed expression. "you're just as fucking obsessed with me as i am with you, huh?"
not waiting for a response, he grinds his cunt into you, and both of you keen at the same time. he keeps thrusting into your heat, sliding your folds together and letting the fluids slick against each other. lewd squelching fills the air as you two pant and groan against each other, pussy lips making out with each other. you see stars everytime his clit meets yours, and when he sees your head throw back, he grins and grinds down once again for added measure.
"you're so, hah, fucking wet…" kuni simpers, trying his best to sound stable even though his tongue's just barely peeking out from the pleasure. "nggh, are you that turned on from me manhandling you? i could feel your slick through your panties when i was choking you." you let out a eager moan when his pussy slides just right against yours. "archons… i knew you were fucked up."
"s–sorry," you pant out, trying to match his rhythm. he grabs your leg and stills it, shooting you a cocky glance as he continues to lead the pace.
"hmph, apologizing for something you can't and won't change?" gosh, gosh, gosh, his pussy squelches against yours, and even more when he starts rubbing his own clit. you can feel his slick coming out in small spurts. "don't worry. i like it that way. you're fucked up just for me, right?"
"mmhmm," your body is shaking as you nod. "all for you. just for you, kuni."
"you'd kill for me, right?" you nod even more passionately. the expression on his face is downright wicked. "if i told you to drive a knife through your bastard of a boss, you'd do that, right?"
"anything for my pretty husband," you murmur, eyes fixed on kuni's finger rubbing his engorged clit. when they pull away, the trace of slick connects them both. "i love you too much, kuni."
there it is. you've been doing nothing but whisper of your undying love for him all night, but this confession was the one to hit the spot. he didn't want you to just love him. he wanted to make sure that you could think of nothing but your love for him, to attach your soul to his like how he had the moment you two kissed on that school rooftop. he'd burn down the world for you— he wanted you to do the same.
smiling in triumph, he shoots you a haughty look— as if he wasn't just insecure about this and he was so sure of your love for him all this time. "of course you do," he sneers. "where would you be without me?"
going back to his rough pace, he continues to rock into your heat. his fingers slide from his clit to yours, and he rubs circles on it to coax a climax out of you. "come on," he pants. "you're gonna come for me, right? squirt all over my pussy, yeah? i'm so wet for you, only you. you better pay me back."
"cum, cum, cummingggg~♡" you sob. your hands find his and your fingers intertwine. you don't see it, but his eyes widen with the slightest inch before pouting in an adorable blush. "ku~uniii, 'm gonna cumm~!"
"on my pussy, come on," he groans. "let it all out."
something in your stomach snaps, and you're arching into his heat too as kuni tugs on your clit and you start squirting all over him. he makes sure to press his pussy against yours even harder, kissing your lower lips so that his hole can swallow up every drop from you. 
"fuck, fuck, fuck, you're so hot," kuni hisses. he pulls away from you and swings his leg over your mouth. he's absolutely fucking dripping— with your slick or his, you don't know, don't care. he pulls your hair to lead your mouth against that pretty pink hole, fluttering eagerly for you to make out with. "come on, bitch," he hisses. "give me a proper apology. eat me out, just like that, yeah, come on."
he doesn't need to order you around— it's basic instinct for you to eat such a warm cunt when it's in front of you. he's rocking against you as your tongue fucks in and out of that hole, head thrown back in ecstasy. "archons, you eat me out so good. ugh, mmngh, cum, cumming~♡"
biting slightly at his clit and tugging it, you elicit a high-pitched squeak form him before opening your mouth. he squirts slick into your mouth too, pressing down to force you to swallow everything he has to offer. you can hear him laughing and groaning above you, smiling down at you in that manic smile he wears when caught in the throes of mind-numbing pleasure.
pulling at your hair, he tugs you away from his cunt with a lewd squelch, and grins down at you.
"put your boss on video call," he demands, taking pleasure in the way your eyes widen but dilate in pure lust. "i'm sure he'd be happy to see two pussies fucking each other for him.
tags: @scara6
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sameschmidtdiffname · 4 months
Text
Easy Money
Derek Danforth x AFAB!Reader
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Summery: Minimum wage is a joke these days and we've all gotta make rent somehow. And who knew blonds could be so fun?
Tags: AFAB/Female pronouns reader, no use of y/n, voyeurism, sex worker!Reader, drug use (marijuana), sex while high, drinking, cursing, bisexual Reader, fetish party, reader plays with several people, tempature play/improper use of ice cubes, sex toys, possessive!Derek, dick piercing (I will not debate this,) face fucking, breast play, oral sex (male recieving), thigh riding, cock warming, cowgirl and doggy position, praising, pet names, edging, rough sex, spanking, vaginal fingering, degradation, dumbification if you squint, dacrophillia. There is no plot. This is just porn. Straight up.
Notes: Y'all begged to me, now y'all begging to your man. You're welcome. Also, please consume substances responsibly. Do NOT assume an edible ain't shit. They ALWAYS are.
                       •°○《▪︎☆▪︎》○°•
The gig is simple. Stand there and look pretty.
The woman who had hired all of us was very clear on the rules; serve drinks, talk to the men, don't have a brain, and if Derek Danforth gives you an ounce of attention, you return it. Sex was optional, but they pay less if you do not engage.
I was just there for the check. Times are hard, but this dress is easy to fit into... if I don't breathe. Jesus, it's tight.
The architecture of the mansion is beautiful. Really, if I wasn't working this party I'd be studying every room for an hour each. High ceilings, detailed woodwork. It's a shame it's all bathed in purple blacklights with everyone wearing neon glowsticks.
The people in attendance are in various states of undress. Some wear their clothes fully, some wear nothing at all. Most are in various states of undress, including the waitresses.
All of our dresses are the same- tight, black, and an easily detachable top with nipple pasties underneath in the shape of blacklight activated glow stars. It's tacky, but the girls who have removed their tops are getting way more tips. And with the debt I'm in, plus the security making absolute sure no camera are recording anything, what's the harm in if I join them? It's more money for me.
The various trays contain different things. Some drinks or shots, others different foods. Then there's the drugs. Oh yes. Cocaine, pills, capped needles on at least one tray I noticed. On mine are several marijuana joints, blunts and even edibles. Our employer had told us we were allowed to indulge, but any damages caused due to our inebriation would come out of our check.
Edibles usually aren't shit for me, so I feel quite safe.
A strawberry cube is tucked safely under my tongue, taking a long while to melt. I can feel my muscles relaxing, making me smile more to the guests as I work my way through the crowd. The beginning gentle buzz helps me to forget the way these people leer at me, some even reaching over to touch me before retracting their hands quickly.
"These guests are quite used to casual sex," the woman had informed us. "There's a code here. You'll each have a pendant around your neck. Depending on the color you choose it will inform them of your preference. Red is for looking only, green means you're okay with sexual touch. It's up to your verbal communication if that touch leads to penetration."
The party was tacky, but at least consent was key.
My color currently is red. It will take more of this edible for anything to change. And currently I see no one making the trouble worth it, anyways.
Right now, anyways.
A man with bright, blond tipped hair and a loud outfit works his way through the crowd. Laughing and speaking with some, taking in the different women serving different items. There's a confident swagger in his walk, one that normally I would scoff at when sober. But with the melting cube quickly joining my bloodstream, I simply stare curiously. It's unintentional, honestly. But he takes notice, narrowing his eyes in reciprocated curiosity before making his way over.
"You're new," he says. I offer him the tray.
"I don't know what you mean," I say politely. He picks up a large blunt, taking out his own lighter instead of using one of the complementary ones on the tray. He takes a long pull, shoving the item back into his snakeskin jacket pocket that doesn't match his zebra print, silk looking button up with black leather pants.
"The other girls have been working here for awhile. Who brought you here?" He asks after taking a long pull, holding it.
"Riley," I answer. He nods, exhaling.
"She's worked here a couple years. You two close?" He asks.
Not particularly. "We're friends," I answer. He smiles a bit, taking another hit.
"You like the party?" He asks.
"I like the lighting," I answer. "And I can't say no to free edibles."
"You take some?" He asks. In answer I scoop the edible onto my tongue and stick it out for him to see. "Good girl, that shit will make you relaxed."
"How much is it?" I ask curiously. Can't be too much, surely.
"Told my guys to pick up 1000mgs," he answers, taking another hit.
... what?
My confusion must be obvious.
"You not used to that?" He chuckles, leaning against the wall next to me.
"I induldge regularly, just... lower amounts," I answer. He exhales, laughing.
"You'll have fun then. Especially if you change your color to green, but that's completely up to you," he says. There's a moment of silence between us before I speak up.
"Nice outfit," I say. He raises a brow at me.
"Yeah?" He asks, scanning me up and down. "I think I prefer yours."
"It matches better, that's for sure," I say. He laughs, then sticks out his hand, his smile confident.
"I'm Derek, by the way."
"Ah," I say. Derek.
Derek!
"Nice to meet you, Mister Danforth," I say, accepting his hand. It's warm and large, strong against mine.
"I don't want to hear Mister out of you unless you change colors, pretty girl," he says, squeezing my hand. I feel myself smiling, heart fluttering a little.
"And what would happen if I did change it, Mister?" I ask politely. His grin widens.
"Well, with the way you look already I'd say people would have a fun time with you," he says, stepping closer. "I wouldn't mind a taste myself. I like my girls warmed up, though."
"Warmed up?" I ask, raising my brow.
"I'll tell you what," he says. "You're welcome to leave your tray anywhere, as I'm sure they've told you. You can change your color to green, enjoy your edible and just let the crowd guide you to me. I promise they will." His eyes roam over me, taking me in with a hungry gaze, his mind distracted by obvious thoughts. I wonder how well his shoulders would hold me.
Shit. He's right, this is strong. The herbal smell on his breath is inviting, and I'm already leaning in. Plus, his outfit is beginning to make visually stimulating sense.
"Isn't it polite for a host to show his guest around?" I ask, batting my lashes. I can feel my eyes drying out, my cheeks buzzing and my body beginning to feel the bass of the music just a little bit more than I was a second ago.
"It is, pretty girl," Derek says, taking another hit. "But you're not a guest, are you?"
No, I'm not. I begin to pull away when his hand catches my pendant.
"You want me to get that for you?" He asks, exhaling through his nose.
"Yes sir," I answer with a smile, placing my tray carefully on the table beside me.
"Good girl," he praises, changing the color with a quick flick of his thumb. "You'll fit in just fine."
Before I can respond, his lips attach to my neck, sucking earnestly and harshly. I can't help the small cry that escapes me, my hand finding his hair and burying itself in it as he pins me against the wall.
His hand cups my breast, kneeding it carefully as he creates patterns across my skin with his mouth, licking at the newly bruised flesh before moving on to a new, unmarked area. He holds his blunt up for me, trying to keep it still enough to allow me to take a hit. I accept, holding his hand steady by the wrist, inhaling as much as I can.
His lips detach from my throat, his eyes red and glazed over as his lips graze mine.
"Care to share?" He asks lowly, his fingers still tweaking at my nipple. I'm vaguely aware that my pasties have been removed, where they've gone to I've no clue.
Obediently, I blow the smoke into Derek's mouth, his hand leaving my breast to cup my jaw, holding my mouth open with his large thumb. Once I'm done he takes his own hit, holding it for a moment before pressing his lips against mine, sealing them together before blowing the smoke into my mouth as well. His tongue slides against mine, tasting of whiskey and smoke. I don't hate the way it blends with the sweet, surgery strawberry cube still melting under my tongue.
He pulls away slightly, breathing heavily.
"You taste sweet," he says. "Mind if I try some?"
"Go ahead," I answer. I expect him to take an edible from the tray, but instead he leans in again, his tongue searching for the half melted candy. He finds it under my tongue, slipping it onto his and then pulling away, smiling in satisfaction.
"Oh," I breathe, batting my lashes in surprise.
"I'll trade you," he says, pressing a small kiss to my cheek as he passes the blunt to me. "Just let the crowd lead you, sweet girl. I'll see you in a bit."
Before I can even think of a response, he slips amongst the crowd, gone in the blink of a hazy eye.
Alright. This is fine. Great, actually. I take a hit of the sour tasting blunt and begin walking amongst the crowd.
Derek was right, I am an eye catcher. Or maybe these people aren't particularly picky. But it doesn't take long at all before people are touching me, sliding their hands over my hips as I pass by, stopping me for a moment to press me against their bodies, leaving a mark or three on my skin. The attention makes my mind blank, smiles on my lips as I whisper 'thank you's, the patrons slipping tips into the tight pockets of my skirt as they release me, letting me blend into the crowd once more until someone else catches me.
I should be revolted, I know this. But the people aren't hard to look at, and with as much as I have flowing through my system all I can really think about is how amazing I feel. My joints feel like air is passing straight through them, my head feels light and free of racing thoughts. The lights entrance me, making me easily distractable until a woman guides me gently towards her group, placing me on her lap as she talks with what I'm guessing are work colleagues. Or something. Fuck if I care.
Her hand strokes my back carefully, not speaking to me as I continue hitting my almost burnt out blunt. She glances at me from time to time, smiling sweetly as she watches me.
"Can I have some?" The older woman asks gently. Her lips are painted a dark black, revealing white teeth underneath. Her features are sharp, contoured by heavy makeup. Her hair is shaggy and black, and God, she's... broad. Muscular and looking like she could eat me alive. I wouldn't mind if she tried.
I hand her the last little bit, letting her have what remains as I begin to focus on her hair. It's soft, feeling amazing between my fingers.
"You have anywhere you need to be for the rest of the night?" She asks, her voice deep.
"Derek," I breathe, barely focusing. She and the other women amongst her let out a noise of recognition, some even laughing a little.
"He likes his girls pent up," Another says, nodding. "Says he likes them used, but we all know that's not true."
"Derek likes to go for hours," warns a woman with blue hair that glows in the blacklight. "Hope you have a lot of energy saved up. If he likes you, you won't go home for days."
The woman with black hair is finishing the blunt, flicking away the last little bit and letting it land wherever.
"You mind if we help you?" She asks.
"No," I answer, my hands running over her broad, leather covered shoulders. "I don't mind."
The women aw over me, moving closer and touching different parts of me.
"Focus on my thigh, good girl," says the dark haired one. "Just rock yourself against it and let me know when you're close." She turns to the second woman, nodding her head towards me. "You want to taste her?"
The second woman nods, joining me on her lap and grinding herself against the first woman's other thigh before bending over to wrap her lips around my nipple, moaning as she does.
The third woman, the one with blue hair, simply watches, continuing to talk to the dark haired woman, stroking my back as she does. The first woman seems engaged in the conversation, occasionally sucking on my other breast before responding to the blue haired woman. The second woman is fully engrossed in tasting me, sucking and nipping at my breast eagerly, moaning as she does.
The stimulation feels amazing, my head tilted back as I rock on the dark haired woman's thigh, my body feeling things it never has before. The feeling of two women sliding their tongues across my sensitive nipples, sucking on them at the same time at different paces is almost enough on its own to make me cum. I can feel how wet I am even through my underwear, surely staining the first woman's clothes.
"Shit, Ava. She may not make it to Derek at this point," laughs the blue haired woman. The first woman, Ava, simply smiles, admiring me.
"Should we let you cum, good girl? Or do you want Derek?" She asks, bouncing her leg as she does.
I moan loudly, my mind unable to form a response. This is lovely, just absolutely wonderful. But something tells me that if I waited, if I edged myself like Derek seemed to prefer, then I would be well rewarded.
"Wait," I pant, still rocking my hips against her thigh. The three women groan, laughing a little more as they begin to give me space.
"You think she's good enough for him?" Ava asks the second woman.
"If she's not, he's out of his mind," she says, tearing herself away from my breast and standing to move onto the blue haired woman's lap instead.
Ava guides me off of her before standing tall and admittedly terrifying. She pulls me up gently, taking my hand and leading me through the room. "Follow me, sweet girl," she says. "I'll take you to the main event."
The other two women wave at me, smiling wickedly before turning their focus onto each other. As the drugs begin to hit harder, just a little ways from my peak, I begin to wonder what it is I've really gotten myself into.
A pair of double doors reveal the same dyed blond man on a plush couch, lounging lazily as he speaks to a small group of people in the private lounge. Upon seeing me guided into the room, he smiles eagerly, quickly sitting up.
"I told you you'd find me," he says, setting his whiskey glass in front of him on the small, glass table.
I smile warmly at him, trying to keep my balance as I walk around to him.
"You get her all ready for me, Ava?" He asks, gently placing his hands on my hips and guiding me to sit on his lap, my back pressed against his chest.
"I did," the woman says, joining us. "She's pretty pent up."
"Did she get you pent up, pretty girl?" Derek asks, laughing softly. I can feel the blush in my cheeks, my eyes barely able to stay open as I lean my head back onto his shoulder.
"Feel her if you don't believe me," Ava offers. Derek obliges, dipping his hand between my thighs, pushing my thin panties to the side.
"Fuck," he groans. "You weren't kidding."
Derek guides my legs to spread open, one hand keeping me open for everyone to watch as his other hand explores my vulva.
"Don't worry about everyone else," he whispers in my ear. "We're all just here for a good time. Right, pretty girl?"
I nod, moaning as his finger swirls around my clit. He continues speaking to his friends, drinking casually as his hand toys with me.
"You want some?" He asks, offering me the glass. I shake my head. I'm fucked up enough.
"Water?" He asks. At that I nod, and with the quick snap of his fingers it only takes a blink before he's holding a water in front of me, complete with ice cubes inside.
"Go ahead," he says. "Take a drink."
I obediently lean forward, placing my bottom lip on the edge as Derek tips the water into my mouth. It's soothing at first, my body relishing the cold rush it gives me. Derek's hand glides up and down my folds, teasing my entrance.
"You like the cold?" Derek asks. I try to respond, forgetting the glass in front of me. The water spills down onto my body, freezing and making me cry out in shock at the sudden sensation.
Derek and his friends laugh, his lips pressing soothing kisses along my shoulder blade.
"I'm sorry, were you not ready for that?" He asks sweetly, smiling at me. I shake my head. He places the glass on the table in front of us, collecting a couple of ice cubes before leaning back and adjusting me to face him.
"Let's get you prepped then, yeah?" He asks, popping one into his mouth and chewing.
My eyes widen, mouth opening in question just before Derek wraps his own lips around my nipples, sucking gently and swirling the quickly chewed cube around the hard bud.
"Fuck!" I cry, leaning backwards. Ava catches me, stroking my hair as she watches.
"I knew he'd like you," Ava says in my ear. "He likes breaking in the new girls personally."
Derek's fingers tease my entrance, threatening to dip in while he sucks on my breast, moaning around the cold flesh. He swirls his spit around, rubbing my clit with his thumb.
"You taste amazing," he moans, his breath cold. "Love to taste more."
I moan happily, spreading my legs more and bucking against his hand.
"Take me," I moan. "Do whatever you want."
"Jesus, she's excited," he laughs. "How long has it been, sweet girl?"
Too long. Much too long.
It must be obvious based on the way he trails lower, kissing and sucking on my skin as he begins to slip my skirt and underwear off of my lower body.
"Is this okay?" He asks, looking up at me expectantly. I nod eagerly, rolling my hips towards him impatiently.
"I don't think she likes teasing, Derek," Ava comments.
"No?" He laughs. "Do you like teasing, sweet girl?"
I shake my head slightly, whining. He and Ava laugh, Derek placing a kiss on my stomach.
"Well, I don't want to go too fast, new girl," he says. "Could break you, you know."
"No you won't," I whine. Derek sucks sharply on the spot, leaving a dark mark.
"Gonna have to teach her a thing or two, aren't I, Ava?" He asks. "You know where that toy is?"
"What toy?" I ask.
"Don't you worry about a thing, pretty girl," Derek instructs. "I'm gonna take care of everything for you now. Just relax."
Ava removes herself from the couch, disappearing to look for something. As I'm distracted, Derek slips an ice cube into my warm cunt.
"Ah!" I cry out sharply, arching my back as my hips roll automatically, unsure what to do to relieve myself. "It's cold."
Derek simply laughs, sitting up straight and dragging me onto his thick thigh.
"It's supposed to be," he says mockingly. "That'll work in the meantime while we wait for Ava to come back."
I start to grind against his thigh, my cunt clenching around the cold cube rapidly as I feel the melting water begin to drip out of me. Derek pulls my hair, tutting his tongue against his teeth as he shakes his head.
"Stay still, that's an order," he says sharply. Someone offers him a cigarette, which he takes with no hesitation. When someone offers me one as well, he waves them away.
"She's had enough," he says. He keeps his hand in my hair, keeping a close eye on me to make sure I don't move.
"You enjoying the party?" He asks me.
"Yes," I say.
"Yes what?" He asks, taking a drag.
"Yes, sir?" I say. He smiles.
"Good. You're smart." He turns his attention to a man asking about some account, rambling something about bitcoin and such. Ugh. I don't know why I'm surprised.
I keep my hands clasped behind my back, pressing my chest forward to allow him easy access. This pleases him, his smile growing genuine whenever he glances my way. Once he bounces his leg, making me squirm for more. At that, he pulls my hair, shaming me for breaking the rule.
"Behave," he commands sharply. A few minutes later, however, he bounces his leg again. This time he doesn't stop.
The jolting motion sends shockwaves through my system, the drugs making me weak and stupid. He's not watching me, seeming involved in the conversation, and this ice cube is nearly melted inside of my cunt, dripping more and more. I can't handle this.
I shift my hips subtly, testing the waters. He doesn't notice, and if he does he doesn't care. I do it again, slightly harder against his thigh. Derek is talking about some party in Havana, laughing about a different conquest. I work slowly, making sure he won't turn his eye onto me. Finally, after a few minutes of grinding against him, I feel confident enough to begin a slow, steady rhythm against his thigh, his leg still bouncing against me.
My body feels amazing. Light, stimulation pounding throughout me, it only takes a few minutes before I'm on edge again, my pussy making his thigh slick and easy to grind against as I ride him. My cheeks burn with heat, my eyes eyes fluttering shut as I lose myself in the rhythm, fully focused on how hard his leg is bouncing. The vibrations go right to my clit, making my pussy seize around nothing now as my pulsing heat had caused the cube to disappear. I begin to grind faster and faster, desperate to cum. I don't realize I've begun panting, moaning as I ride him, and the attention in the room has turned towards me in full with Derek rubbing his hand up and down my back slowly, grazing his nails across the skin of my back as he watches with a look that makes him look like the cat who ate the canary.
"You close, sweet girl?" He asks me. My blush deepens, my eyes fluttering open in realization. Derek simply quirks a brow at me, exhaling his smoke into my face as he waits for my answer. My hips stutter, hesitating to continue.
"Don't get shy," Derek scolds. "You were just fine fucking yourself a moment ago. What's a few dozen people watching you?" He asks.
People are chuckling now, making small comments of encouragement.
"You looked so pretty, baby. Fucking yourself stupid on my thigh," he says as his lips tease my tits. "Didn't she look pretty, everyone?" He asks the room, glancing around at the people who respond with affirmations.
I lean forward, trying to hide my face in the crook of his neck. What had I been doing? In front of this entire room? I'd just needed a few quick bucks, that's all this was supposed to be. This was exponentially further than I'd ever planned.
Derek tuts, pulling me away from my hiding place. "Oh no, you wanted to cum. I'm going to make sure you cum," he chides. "I wonder how you'd feel on my cock. Would you like that? You'd feel better if you were on my cock, wouldn't you?"
I nod shyly, my eyes avoiding everyone but Derek. He glances around the room once more, noises of encouragement growing louder.
"You wanna get me ready, baby?" He asks encouragingly, taking one of my hands from behind my back and guiding it to his stiff, clothed cock.
I gasp lightly, squeezing it and grazing my thumb up and down his dick covered by the tight, leather material.
"You look big," I mutter.
"Feel big too," he chuckles. "Go on, try it out. I think you'll like it."
I think I will.
It's hard to see in the odd lighting, so my hands struggle with the hidden zipper.
"Try getting closer," Derek teases, his breath warm against my ear. "It doesn't bite like I do." To emphasize his point, he sinks his teeth into my neck, harsh and quick before releasing me, leaning back in his chair. The sudden movement makes me dizzy, my mind reeling as I automatically sink to my knees in front of the plush, velvet sofa.
Once his pants are opened, he springs out, no underwear confining him. Jesus. He's mostly average, leaning towards the larger side. It's mostly the piercing that surprises me.
"Like it?" He asks. I glance up at him, his grin cocky as he takes a drag from his new cigarette. Hey, man. What happens if I swallow this?
I stammer, opening my mouth and trying to say something.
"You need help?" He asks, wrapping his hand decorated with several rings around his shaft. "Open your mouth again," he commands. I do so without hesitation. His other hand guides my head down, forcing me to swallow it halfway down. I moan in satisfaction, my eyes slowly shutting as I take in the taste of his skin.
"Atta girl. Take a minute if you need to," he says casually. I can smell the thick smoke near my head, his hand stroking my hair gently. Ava must have returned because he's telling someone how warm my mouth is.
"You ready, sweetheart?" He asks. "Wanna show you off for my friends."
Taking a deep breath and opening my eyes once more, I lower myself slowly to his base. He's just long enough that when his piercing collides with my uvula I cough, nearly choking on him. More gentle laughter escapes the crowd, Derek praising me as he begins to thrust into my mouth.
"Just stay there, sweetheart," he says. "I'll do the work."
True to his word, Derek begins pumping his dick in and out of my mouth, whispering something in Ava's ear. I begin taking in the other people around the room, most of them watching us eagerly.
"Watch me, sweetheart," he commands, snapping his fingers and pointing at himself. "You don't have anywhere to look but here."
I obey, keeping my eyes trained on him as he smokes his cigarette which rests between his lips, his jaw gritted as he rolls his hips into my throat, his eyes glazed over in pleasure and who knows what else.
Without warning, someone begins fingering my cunt. A startled moan escapes me, vibrating around Derek's throbbing cock and making him moan, his face confident.
"Don't worry baby, it's just Ava," he says, stroking my hair. "You like Ava, right?"
I moan again, Ava's fingers quick and shallow in my tight pussy.
"Ava certainly likes you. Almost stole you from me, isn't that right?" He asks her, tapping his cherry carelessly onto the floor behind him.
"That's right," her deep voice purrs in my ear. I moan again, my eyes almost fluttering shut from pleasure until Derek grabs my hair, fucking my face roughly to bring my attention back to him.
"Hey now, don't get too happy," he scolds, but he's smiling. "You still like me more, right baby?"
I moan, pressing my tongue to his underside as he slides in and out. He tastes sweet, his jewelry creating an interesting feeling in the back of my throat. Ava withdraws her fingers, quickly replacing them with a vibrating bullet instead.
"Mmph!" I moan, my eyes nearly fluttering shut again. The speed increases, making me drip and writhe my hips against nothing.
"God, she's fun," Derek moans. "Ava, book her for Cabo," he says.
Cabo??
"You like her that much?" Ava laughs. Derek simply glares at her. Is this a thing? Trading girls, fighting over them? What is this?
"Just fucking talk to whoever about it," he spits, his dick quickening in my throat. I'm gagging around him, barely able to catch my breath as I press my hands desperately against his thighs. "Anyone else fuck her tonight?"
"Don't know," Ava shrugs. She brings her face close to mine, her breath hot in my ear. "Did they?"
I moan, trying to shake my head. Derek nods, smiling.
"Perfect," he drawls. The bullet inside of me is driving me insane, enough to keep me on the edge of pleasure but not enough to tip me over. My eyes look up at him, wide and begging, tears beginning to spill from my waterline and streaming down my face.
"You're killing her," Ava scolds him. "Is he being mean?" She asks me. Yes.
"She can take it," Derek says. "You like it a little mean, don't you baby?" He asks, smiling. Yes.
"See?" Derek says. "She's just fine."
Actually, I'm about to hit my peak drug wise, and I can't fucking breathe. But all it does is make me want more, my throat taking him as deep as I can as I moan around him, my tongue moving desperately, eager to swallow his load.
"Think I should cum down her throat?" He asks Ava, his head tilted back in pleasure, cigarette nearly burnt out between his lips.
"Would you like that?" Ava asks, setting the speed of the bullet to max. I scream around Derek's cock, overstimulated and stupid. "I think that's a yes."
"God, you're amazing," he praises. "Such a perfect fucking slut."
Right before he reaches his edge, he pulls me away, admiring the long, thick string of spit that still connects my swollen lips to his cock.
"Look at that," he says. "Should take a picture of that someday."
His hand drags me up by my hair, guiding me to return to his lap. Once I'm straddled across his lap, his fingers delve into my cunt, fucking me quickly as he presses the bullet against my g-spot.
"You like my cock, pretty girl?" He asks.
"Yes," I moan, my voice and throat raw.
"Yes what?"
"Yes, sir."
"Excellent."
His fingers remove the bullet, and he quickly replaces his hand and bullet with his pulsing cock, both of us moaning at the feeling.
"Jesus, fuck," he moans. "You are fucking tight. I can feel everything."
My cunt spasms around him, eager for whatever friction he'll grant me. He stays still, something that's clearly a challenge for him.
"Gonna stay there for awhile," he says. "Wanna make sure you're ready, baby."
My spit on his dick makes for excellent lube, his piercing comfortable against my cervix. His hands run up and down my thighs, squeezing here and there, eventually moving to massage my ass.
"The crowd loves you," he praises, pulling me close to his chest. "Think I love you too."
I'm very high. I'm very horny. I will do whatever this fried hair, cocky ass motherfucker tells me to do.
A waitress walks behind the couch, offering us a tray of joints. Isn't that my job?
"Go ahead, take one," Derek instructs me. I do so, reaching for the lighter on the tray.
"Don't bother, I have one in my pocket. Thank you," he says to the waitress, dismissing her. He reaches into his coat, taking out the lighter before discarding the jacket, leaving him in his zebra printed button up that shows off his chest hair along with a white gold sparkling chain.
He holds the lighter for me, lighting up the joint as I hold it between my lips.
"You're gonna smoke me out, okay angel?" He says, leaning back against the couch, his arms stretched out along the back. I rest one hand against his chest, taking a hit and holding it for a second before leaning forward and blowing it into his mouth.
One of his hands find my hair, pressing my lips against his, his cock twitching inside of me as his tongue slips into my mouth, establishing dominance before allowing me to pull away for another hit. Then another. Then another.
As he inhales the last hit, his hips begin rolling into mine, his voice low as he groans.
"Go on and start riding me, angel," he moans, completely lost in the pleasure. "Show me how you want me."
My hands grasp his shoulders, clinging desperately as I begin to glide up and down his length, his cock twitching against my most sensitive spots with each glide.
"You ever fuck a pussy as good as this?" I ask, watching his jaw shift subtly from side to side as he focuses on my tightness.
"Oh, she speaks now?" He asks, smirking. "Grow a fucken brain, princess?"
His tip slams into my cervix, making me gasp and press my tits into his face. His mouth works quickly, biting and sucking at the tender mounds as I ride him.
"I'm just making conversation," I say. I'm high enough my filter is gone, my brain rotted to the point I'm only focused on my pleasure. He moans against my tit, looking up at me while he buries himself in my body.
"I can't say I have," he says, grinning. "Why, that turn you on?"
Immensely. Not that I'd tell him that.
"Say it," he dares, his cock slamming into me. "Don't hold out on me."
"Maybe I will," I tease, tugging his hair. My hips speed up, riding him hard enough I can feel the couch rocking ever so slightly.
"You're fun," he chuckles. "Say it."
"No," I say, slamming my wet cunt against his base, making him groan loudly.
His teeth sink into my skin, pulling on my nipple to the point I'm on the razors edge of pain and pleasure.
"I don't mind waiting," he says, his tongue flicking against my nipples. "I like causing pain."
His teeth sink in deeper, his fingernails dragging down my back slowly as he slams into me, making me bounce hard enough I can feel it in my stomach.
This is a hell of a paycheck.
"I like it," I say. He chuckles.
"That's not enough," he says.
"I wanna be the best girl you've fucked," I add.
"Mm, need more details." His teeth release my nipple, leaning forward and quickly catching it once more, sucking on the almost raw flesh hard enough it feels like I won't be able to wear a shirt for the next day or two. One of his hands return to my hair, gripping it and pulling it hard enough I can see the people behind us, some of them still watching, some focused on each other, most people switching between the two as they fuck each other.
"Come on, you were just so confident," he laughs against me before returning to his task. My chest burns with want and embarrassment, my eyes glazing over as I give in.
"I wanna make you pussy whipped," I moan. "I wanna glance at something and get it from how desperate you are to get the chance to fuck me."
He chuckles lowly. "I think we'll get along for a while," he says in a satisfied tone, finally releasing my tits from his torture.
"Gonna get me on payroll?" I ask, smiling as I throw my leg onto the back on the couch, giving him better access to fuck me.
"Play your cards right and I'll get my surname on you, pretty girl."
It's an evening of drugs and sex, come morning I'm sure he won't even remember my eye color. But for tonight, can't a bitch dream?
"Go ahead and laugh," he dares. "I get what I want."
"And you want me?"
"Fuck yeah."
He forces me to my side, turning me onto my stomach and hiking my ankles onto his shoulders.
"Jesus!" I cry, feeling his cock bury into me from behind, slamming straight into an overwhelming spot that makes me blind with pleasure.
"Too much," I cry. "Fuck, too much!"
"And that's a problem?" He laughs, abusing me as he smacks my ass, admiring the way my skin reddens.
"Yeah, you're not getting another dick ever again," he decides, his hips chasing after a high that tears screams from my throat. I'm so overstimulated I don't even know if I can cum, my eyes crossed and ass feeling his palm bearing down on the sensitive flesh time and time again, growing more rapid in succession, forcing me to clench his length harder with each new hit.
"Come on, pretty girl," he growls, pressing his chest against my back, his hands keeping my hips pressed against him with no chance to escape. His balls smack against my clit, making me moan in stupidity. "I know you want to."
I cry out, tears streaming down my face, hair stuck to my wet skin as I feel my cunt begin to throb in warning, my stomach clenching as the knot inside me begins to snap, my mind growing fuzzy and static as I pant eagerly.
"Fuck, she's close," Derek moans to someone, small whimpers escaping him as he pumps into me, his teeth digging into my shoulder, sending me over the edge.
Someone's screaming, and I have the vague idea it may be me. I can feel Derek's front soaked in my cum, his dick slamming into me in a way that I just know I'll have a migraine in a few minutes.
"Good girl," he praises. "Fuck. Amazing girl. Taking good dick like a fucking pro."
His cock throbs in me as he cums, deep and right next to my cervix, keeping himself buried as his seed pumps into me, hot and thick.
"I wasn't joking, sweetheart," he mutters in my ear, his voice exhausted. "You and I are going to become good, good friends."
I groan as I feel him slip out, his fingers pushing any cum that drips from my folds back into me, then placing a plug into my aching cunt. His hand grips my hair, pulling me back up to sit on his lap as he accepts a new drink, his cheeks flushed as he tries to regain his breath.
"Let's get something to get your energy back up, hmm?" He asks, pressing a firm kiss on my sweaty forehead.
▪︎《•☆•》▪︎
Cabo doesn't sound all that bad, Danforth. Not bad at all.
Masterlist
I wrote this instead of sleeping. Anyways, see you next time for Mike Schmidt. Stay safe pookies <3
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hazbinhotelxreader · 4 months
Note
can you do a lute x fem reader smut?
Hell yea! Love that girl, she slays💅
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Words: 992
A/n: okay! There wasn’t much
Warning: fingering, eating someone out, bondage, light cussing, light insulting, smut, gay sex, mean lute, hair pulling, rough sex, orgasm denial, light crying
Part 2!
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Being around lute is an..experience. She’s mean, then sweet, then mean again, honestly it was confusing. She was off duty finally, and went up to you, grabbing your wrist and tugging you along. She was pretty stressed, wanting to relieve some of that stress on you.
She pulled you into her room and locked the door, immediately slamming you against the wall and kissing you hungrily, biting your bottom lip. You moan and grunt as she aggressively kissed you and bites you, your bottom lip bleeding due to it. She held your wrists against the wall harshly, whispering into your ears. “Why don’t you be a good girl for me and strip those pretty clothes off~?” She said in a husked and desired voice.
You follow her orders and began to strip, you were taking too long for her, causing her to grab your clothes and rip them off. “Hey..” you said sadly as your favorite clothes her ripped off.
“I’ll buy you a new pair..” lute reassured quickly and grabbed your body, throwing you onto the bed and biting your neck harshly, you yelp softly in pain, she doesn’t stop.
“You’re being too rough..” you say to her as you moan, hoping she’ll be more gentle, which she didn’t.
“Don’t be a baby, you’re fine” Lute growled softly and continued her vicious attack on your neck, you whimper softly as she moaned against your skin.the next thing you know she’s grinding her hips onto you roughly, you moan and buck yours too, allowing Lute to make an insult. “You little slut..so desperate for my attention” She growled and roughly slammed her knee into your aroused core.
You let out a pained and pleasured moan, closing your eyes in pleasure and pain, already starting to pant from the roughness. Lute harshly squeezed your breast as she licked and sucked and bites your collarbone, leaving large dark purple hickies all over you. You let out gasps and quiet yelps as she squeezed your breasts harder and attacked your collar bone more.
She started to bite down your body, starting from your neck all the way down to your stomach. You moan and groan, squirming underneath her harsh treatment. She chuckled over you, and put her mouth closer to your wet and aroused pussy. She lets out another insult and started to bite and suck your inner thighs. You squirm more as your sensitive skin in getting more wounds.
She moved up more, and left a long lick in between your folds. You let out a quiet soft gasp and moan, moving to grab her hair and pulling it to make her face go into you more, which she didn’t like. She growled and sat up. “Don’t touch my hair.” She demands and grabbed some rope, harshly securing your hands together and tying them above your head.
“It’s too tight..” you whimper and try to move out of it.
“That’s your fault.” She says and finally started to attack your pussy again. You moan as her movements got rougher. She thrusted her tongue inside of you, thrusting in and out, tasting your tight entrance. You gasp and moan when her tongue entered you without a warning. You felt yourself going over the edge as she thrusted harsher and harsher, losing against your entrance. You felt yourself about to let go..but she stopped and pulled out.
“No no please…” you whimper as tears formed in your eyes, the orgasm you were about to have died down.
“Aww~ I’d like to see you beg for it~” Lute smirked, finding this amusing, the tip of her fingers teasingly poking in and out of your entrance. You beg and beg for her to continue, but her sadistic self took pleasure in your pleads.
“You’ll have to try harder than that whore” She smirked and continued to tease you. She spent about 3 hours teasing, forcing you to sob softly and beg and beg. You wanted nothing more than to have your release, but lute would be taking her time to make you suffer and for her to be satisfied .
At last after the torturing hours she started to thrust her fingers in roughly, you moan and beg, your wrists getting rope burned from the bondage, your body sweating and your panting. Both of your legs were spread wide for Lute to invade, lute thrusted her fingers harsh against your g-spot and tight hole, not caring about your pleads for her to go a little more gentle.
You were finally close and you let out a longer moan and cry. “That’s right you little whore..cum out for me..” she said rougher. Your awaiting orgasm finally came, you panted and closed your eyes, but she wasn’t done yet.
Lute took off her leggings and shirt/short dress, lining both of your wet cunts together. She pushed her cunt down onto yours, and moaned out. Your breath hitched as you felt her wet aroused pussy against your own. Both of you start to grind against each other, she leaned over and bites your neck to ground herself, you let out a choked out cry, she growled against your neck and bucked her hips violently, searching for relief.
She pants as she let out a small cry, you following in suit. Both of you orgasmed onto each others pussy’s, cum dripping down your thighs and onto the bed sheets. You pant and she collapsed onto you, leaving softer love bites onto your sweaty skin, breasts rubbing against each other.
You knew it wasn’t over, of course it wasn’t. It’s lute. And it’s all about her. She wants more, whether you’re up for it or not, all you know is that it will be a long, painful and pleasant night.
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cinnamokittykat · 1 month
Text
My head canons for Sol Brugsmansia x chubby fem! reader!
TW for: Sexual content, Dubcon(?), stalker/yandere tendencies, mentioned violence, mentions of body issues, Somnophilia
SFW (TW for some mild violence)
- This man needs a girl who can be his pillow, so of course he sets his sights on you immediately
- He's the biggest slut for headpats, you could honestly bribe him to do so much by promising to pet him a bit
- Is there an article of clothing you want that isn't available in your size? He'll learn how to tailor them to your size, even if it's a bit shoddy at first
- If anyone were to ever insinuate that you aren't enough because of your weight... They might not be dead but they'll likely be pretty bloody
- He gets so sad when you feel bad about yourself, he'd just grab you and not let you go until you feel better
- He bites affectionately. He bites to get your attention. Sometimes he bites just to bite.
- When he gets jealous, he doesn't lash out at you at all. The worst he may do towards you is cry/beg. The only people he'd hurt in the situation are the people he perceives as a threat. Not you, his perfect girl.
NSFW
- He also bites to mark his territory while making out and having sex.
- He LOVES your curves, especially your boobs. He loves grabbing them and squishing them and kneading them and he loves when you wear a low cut shirt and lean forward in it
- He loves your ass more because he doesn't have to worry about you catching him staring as easily
- So, so so whiny and vocal. Especially when he's been staring at your body all day and has spent the majority of it hard in some capacity.
- Loves eating pussy so much. He'll pin you down and bury his face in between your thick thighs until you're teared up from overstimulation and he has a wet spot in his pants from cumming. If you two aren't together yet, he'll sneak into your room at night and eat you out in your sleep.
- Ideally if he had to die, he'd choose to do it by having your legs wrapped around his head until he suffocates
- Would make you cum from oral a number of times then have the best time sticking his tongue in your pussy to clean you up
- He really prefers being submissive or on equal footing with you in the bedroom. Ideally he's being used as your toy to get off, laying on his back to be ridden to completion, letting you control the situation.
- But when he does feel possessive. Angry. Jealous. It feels like a different person takes hold of him. He'll embarrass, threaten, or even eliminate whatever threat he sees to you two being together forever. After they've been taken care of how he sees fit, he'd find you and pound you until walking isn't a possibility the next day. He'll fuck you until your ass is red and your neck is a patchy-reddish purple and cum drips from your hole. If he somehow ever got your permission, he'd do it in front of the other person too. Make them see what they'd be up against if they even tried.
- And if you were being watched during, he's going into overdrive with the theatrics. It doesn't matter if he has to edge himself, overstimulate himself, or power through muscle pain and lack of breath, he'll do it so show how great of a partner he is.
- The added benefit to this for him is that you'll have no choice but to be taken care of by him at least for a short period of time. He'd happily feed you and bathe you and massage you as much as you need.
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roseychains · 25 days
Text
How these women fuck (or get fucked) by you
A/n: in a messy situation with some guy rn, my mental health is deteriorating and I have a lot to manage. Idk, except a lot of female oriented content for a little while cuz rn I’m. Yea
C/w: written by a minor!, fem!reader, both sub and dom reader, and all of these warnings go both ways. strap on, oral, fingering, sex toys, lingerie, bondage, marking, scissoring, degradation, exhibitionism, praise, sensory deprivation, temperature play, overstim and edging, role play, hand kink
Featuring: shoko, utahime, and yuki from jjk. Pakunoda, shizuku, and machi from hxh. Misturi and shinobu from demon slayer, and honorable mention yor briar.
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Jjk women
Shoko
Purple strap energy. Shoko is a switch but prefers being dom. The only way she’d ever let you take control is if you really want to, but that’s not to say that she takes on a particularly controlling roll either. For her, sex isn’t about labels it’s about making her girlfriend feel good, and herself. The thing that makes her a dom most of the time is the way that she is often the giver, and when you are she still maintains control over the situation.
Definitely smokes while she’s hitting it from the back if you let her. She’d be balls deep in your cunt and have one hand pressed on your back and the other holding a cigar between her lips, turning away to puff out the smoke.
When she goes down on you, she fingers you while she sucks on your clit. She loves watching you get close and your thighs threaten to close around her head.
Speaking of, she needs you to sit on her face. Please. She doesn’t care how heavy you think you are. She will die happily between your thighs, pull her hair too, she will moan.
Double ended dildos are defiantly her favorite toy with you. Throw in a vibrator as well, so your scissoring each other while being penetrated by the same toy and a vibrator between? That’s her favorite thing to do.
Utahime
She’s a switch as well, but she leans to being a sub, a bratty sub. I feel like she’s also a big pillow princess as well, so she prefers to lay back and be at your mercy, not to mention it gets her really turned on when you tell her all the things your going to do to her. She will act bratty to get your attention, to attempt to rile you up in hopes of getting a reaction, getting punished(overstimulated till she cry’s). On the chance she is a dom, I imagine her being a cocky dom now that the tables have finally turned, you’ll be sore for a while.
She looks so good in lingerie, she likes it when you fuck her in it, while you’re wearing some as well. She will constantly talk about it when valentines is coming up, “I sure hope my hot sexy girlfriend doesn’t buy us matching lingerie, that would be so bad I hope that doesn’t happen” (she is a master of reverse psychology)
Being a pillow princess, you’re often the one going down on her. She’s super vocal while you’re eating her out, pulls your hair super hard.
She loves shibari bondage, with silky red ropes gently laced around her body. She doesn’t like normal rope, handcuffs, or tape. Only gentle, pretty silk. To be honest, sex with her is very ascetically pleasing
Yuki
She’s a dom all the way. She is controlling every aspect of your bedroom activity’s, and flawlessly at that. She knows what you want, she knows how you like to be touched, where you’re sensetive, and how to abuse all of that knowledge. Depending on what you prefer, she can either be a mean dom, or a slow romantic lover, or both. She lives to please you, so don’t you move a finger. If you weren’t a pillow princess, you are now.
Dirty talk with her is so good. She says the right things at all the right times, and her smug sexy voice never fails to make you leak through whatever panties you’re wearing.
She will probably at some point bring up the idea of you wearing a vibrator in public and she has the remote. Honestly, she loves seeing you flustered and embarrassed, all the better knowing it’s all her fault.
Wants you to leave marks on her when she fucks you. She wants you to scratch her back, leave red marks that will show in her back-less swim suit the next day, she wears those marks like a badge of honor.
Hxh women
Pakunoda
Service dom vibes. I feel like sex with with her is equally as romantic as it is almost formal. She’s a giver, and dedicated everything she does to your pleasure. With that being said, she is also a brat tamer. So if you act up, except to be bent over her lap and counting each hit. She will give you everything you want, sexually, and expects submission in return.
She’s definitely possessive, and when you go out wearing something revealing she’s making sure she has given you a hickey somewhere on your skin, for when she can’t be with you. But when she can, she has her hand around your waist at all times.
Loves to eat you out slowly so you get needy and start begging for her to finish you off. She will draw it out as long as she can, savoring your taste and reactions, but after a while she will let you cum.
She prefers to fuck you with her fingers as opposed to a strap. She feels like it’s too far away from being her, so she’s rather fuck you with something she has, reminding you that you don’t need any man, or anyone else for that matter.
Shizuku
She’s a sub, but definitely a power bottom. She cannot sit still, and will constantly have her hands on you. Be that pulling your hair while you eat her out, gripping you thighs while she’s going down on you, scratching your back when your fingering her and grabbing your face when you kiss her. Please don’t tie her down. That would make her sad. She just needs something to hold onto.
One of her all time favorite things is riding your strap. Bonus points if you hold her hands, even more if you hold her hips and thrust into her at her same pace, she will literally ride you till she’s crying, panting, and exhausted.
She’s extremely vocal. Even when you’re gently teasing or prepping her, she will let out the most loud pornographic moans, it’s almost like she wants someone else to hear.
She would find it exciting to do risky things, like fucking while the troupe is in the other room. Your have to cover her mouth with your hand or they really will hear.
Machi
She’s a switch because she can do it all. I imagine her being a rough dom, tying you up with her nen stitches and fucking you with her fingers hard and fast. She’s so strong, and can easily manhandle you to her will. She will also choke you. When she’s a sub, I imagine her being kinda shy, she who has always had control of the situation, that control taken away. At the same time though she really loves it, it’s a nice change of place.
Humiliation/degradation with her is soooo good. Her voice is commanding and strict, her holding you down with one hand and fingering you with the other, all while whispering in your ear how slutty you are makes you cum in no time.
When she’s the sub, please praise and encourage her. I imagine her being shy and nervous, Esspecially if it’s her first time being this way. She definitely has to get used to it, learning to let go for a bit but it’s worth it in the end with how good you make her feel.
Sensory deprivation and temperature play both ways are thrilling for her. Either you, tied up and blindfolded, not knowing what she’s going to next, dripping hot wax on your body then rubbing ice over it the next, or her in that same place, she likes it all.
Demon slayer women
Misturi
A shy sub. She doesn’t want to have any control, she just wants to feel good and for you to as well. Probably one of the less kinky people on this list, but she’s open to try anything. But I imagine her mostly enjoying simple stuff, just touching you and you touching her is enough. I feel like she also likes being tied up, nothing crazy just wrist binds, she likes the element of suprise from being restrained.
Sex with her is always soft and gentle. She doesn’t like anything rough or mean, so everything you do is filled with praise and adoration. So even when tears prick in the corners of her eyes, they are pleasure tears.
Kissing 24/7 during sex. She thinks she will die if her lips aren’t on yours at any given moment. She will literally make out with you until you’re both panting and gasping for air, but after one breath she’s going back in for more.
She is super sensitive, and cums from even the lightest touches. She secretly wants you to take advantage of this, please, make her see stars from being between her lush thighs. She just loves it when you go down on her.
Shinobu
She’s a switch but leaning dom. I get the feeling that she lacks experience, but unlike others that doesn’t make her not want to take the lead. I imagine her to be somewhat condescending in bed, with the names she calls you and how she touched you, like you’re just a dumb little girl that she can do with whatever she pleases. However, if she were to be a sub it would be for your pleasure, and she probably would be pretty quiet and shy.
Roleplay with her is big. It doesn’t matter what, she’s down for anything. Predator prey, doctor patient, criminal officer, you’ve done em all. She really gets in character and in her opinion it’s a fun addition to your already more than satisfying sex. She likes watching how you react to different things.
She’s super possessive but she won’t ever act on it in public, she won’t fight or yell, but the second your undressed her mouth is all over your neck, biting, sucking, and kissing. She will probably also have you wear her perfume and clothes, she wants to leave her mark but steadily.
She has a massive hand fetish, yours and her own, but she esspecially likes it when you choke her. No matter who is what role, she likes the pressure that is gentle enough to make her breathing slow down with no real harm, it gets her excited.
Honorable mention
Yor briar
I’m really conflicted on this one. Cuz on one hand, I imagine her being a super shy sub (exhibit A, when loid tried to kiss her) but on the other hand, she’s an assassin and super scary and intimidating so she would maintain that demeanor in bed. Overall, I think she’s just happy to do whatever you want. She doesn’t have much experience so if you’re happy so is she.
When she’s the dom, I can imagine her getting into bondage and roleplay. With enough convincing you could probably even get her to pretend she’s on a mission to apprehend you and get information out of you… a different way.
On the contrary, when you’re on top of her she’s extremely flustered and covering her face. She squirms a lot and is super sensetive to your touch, so even the smallest things get a reaction out of her. That being said, she fucking loves it when you use your strap on her, and hold her hips down.
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pyro-chaos · 7 months
Text
Mike Schmidt x Reader
Sometimes
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Pt. 2. to This Series
Summary: How life’s going with the new roomie!! Smutttyyy, kinda smutty
Tropes: And they were roommates. Smut fluff, and a smidge of angst
Word count: 2317
A/N: Yooo, this is my first attempt at writing something… saucy. Lol, what do you think??
At first, Mike had reservations about moving in with you.
He thought it would… change the relationship dynamic.
It does, but not in the way he expects.
“Morning, Abby’s brushing her teeth,” you hand Mike a plate of toast with jam and scrambled eggs, “I have to stay late today. Our department has a project due.”
Mike nods, “Okay,” he swallows a mouthful of eggs, “what time should I go for you?”
You put the egg pan in the sink, on top of two other plates.
“Actually, I’m going out tonight. So I think you’re good until tomorrow morning”
Honestly, it surprised him a bit, when he found out you had other friends.
Well, that sounds bad, he’s just surprised by the activity within your social life. It makes him crave something he didn’t know he cared about.
“Will you be home tonight?” He asks.
You gulp down the last of your coffee like a shot. Then you shrug, “I wouldn’t count on it, but maybe.”
Mike swallows his last bite and takes his plate to the sink, “Okay, be safe.”
You smile and finish getting ready for the day. Mike does the dishes.
To be honest, Mike loves having a roommate.
You split the bills evenly. Mike takes half the rent, you take the water bill. Mike gets electric, but you have the insurance.
It’s nice. It feels like he found an island after struggling to keep afloat.
He can afford to go way down in hours. Rather than carry the weight of two full-time jobs, Mike only has to manage one, with the odd double shift.
There’s a park within walking distance from your house. It has a tire swing. Mike has the time to walk Abby there on weekends, and the energy to give her a boost.
Sometimes, You come home smelling like booze.
Sometimes, Mike stays up past Abby’s bedtime to make lunches for the next day. Or to catch up on forgotten chores.
Sometimes, he stays up just ‘cause he can do that now; without feeling mind-crushing guilt.
Sometimes, you run into each other on those nights.
It’s Friday night, a week after you successfully completed the work project, and you stumble into the house at an odd hour.
You smell like a mix of someone else’s cologne and cheap alcohol. Your lipstick is smudged and your clothes look ruffled.
Mike watches you wobble to the sink after kicking off your shoes.
He pretends not to notice the hickeys littering your neck while you chug a glass of water.
“Rough day?” He means it as a joke, but Mike doubts the concerned tilt of his eyebrows makes it seem like one.
“MMmm nuh uh” you answer; slightly out of breath, “S-sorry, just a lil’ thirsty.”
Mike chuckles. He puts a bowl of leftover pasta in the microwave.
If anyone ever asked, he’d deny it until his tongue fell out. But Mike thinks you're cute drunk, and he likes how the curve of your breasts peek out of that top.
Nights like this make him feel kind of gross. He goes to bed soaked with guilt because he knows he shouldn’t ogle anyone like he’s ogling you.
If you ever found out about how he stared at you after you slumped into a kitchen stool, he’d kill himself.
You’re wearing a skirt, and he can see… he can see the inside of your thighs. You’re slouching too. He can see the trail of purple outline your collar bones, and lead into - No.
He sets the bowl of pasta in front of you and then sits down across from you. He’s praying you didn’t see him twitch under his pants.
You slowly eat the pasta, like you’re having trouble feeling your mouth.
Mike stirs his tea.
He tries not to think about your mouth.
When you’re finished, you look a little less, unbothered. Your eyes go a little dark, and you’re holding your head up awkwardly.
“Ready for bed?” Mike questions. He hopes you don’t hear the desperation hidden in the softness of his voice.
You nod.
He leaves an old pot by your bed before heading to his own room.
Nights like this, Mike feels how long it’s been since he’s gotten pussy.
His dick is throbbing. It’s begging, and it hurts, but he fucking refuses to give in.
Mike tries to clench his legs and think about anything, other than how you might’ve looked riding someone else’s dick.
His hips buck up into nothing.
Your tits would bounce. The other guy probably loved it. Mike bets the other guy couldn’t resist popping your nipples into his mouth. Or maybe he used his hands. Maybe he gripped your tits so hard that you saw stars.
Mike rolls over - face down - his pelvis squishes his boner into the bed at this angle. He’s glad for the pillow that swallows his groan.
He thought the new position would help, but it doesn’t, the friction just makes everything worse.
Mike can’t get those damn hickies out of his head. They’ve seared into his mind like a brand that just keeps bleeding. He wants to lick them. He wants to know what you’d do if he licked them.
Oh god, and your thighs.
It takes him a moment to realize that he’s grinding against his sheets.
He huffs, practically ripping off his boxers and gripping the base of his dick.
He gives in.
He thinks about how you’d look sprawled on his bed.
What would you do? - Mike wonders - if you woke up to him between your thighs?
Mike would go slow, he’d go so slow, and he’d make it feel good. He wouldn’t leave until you shake.
He’d spread you open first; let your legs rest open like a monument. He might indulge himself with a kitten lick along your clit.
Then, he’d slide a finger through your slit.
Would you want to sit on his face?
Mike's balls go tight, his dick jumping as he imagines your weight on his tongue.
He licks his lips, hoping to taste something he’s never had.
He finishes all over his stomach, and tries not to imagine how you’d look licking it up.
He doesn’t know how he’s gonna look into your eyes tomorrow.
It's Saturday, and Mike said he’d give you a ride to a car that you found on Craigslist.
“What happened to your car?” Abby asks at the beginning of the drive.
Mike glares at his sister through the mirror, but he can’t shush her without revealing that he’s already figured out what happened to your car.
“It’s not mine anymore” you respond. Your tone isn’t sad, or forlorn, but the mood shifts anyway.
Mike fills the awkwardness by asking what Abby wants for lunch.
You don’t end up buying the car.
The guy on Craigslist listed the car under Used, Like New but the car was definitely not, Like New.
You apologize to Mike so many times he stops keeping count, but he really doesn’t think it’s that big of a deal.
He had to look for months before he found a reliable car for an affordable price.
He’s sure to tell you as much, but he still finds extra cash in his glove compartment the next day.
Sometimes it feels like you don’t think of him as a friend, just someone you’re living with.
It bothers him.
You go out again on Sunday night, you come home smelling even worse.
Mike’s in the living room when he hears something fumble with the locks. At first, he thinks nothing of it, but then he hears a thump against the door.
Mike peeks through the peephole, and rolls his eyes after he watches you almost eat shit when you lose your footing.
You’re too drunk to stand on your own. Mike doesn’t even bother to ask if you’re okay, he just helps you to your room and puts the old pot near your bed, again.
Abby sleeps across the house, so she doesn’t hear you puke your guts out at 3a.m.
Mike does, and it makes him feel something bad. It’s a feeling he’s not used to associating with you. Disappointment? Disgust?
Something like that - there’s a bit of anger in there too - but it’s also mixed with worry. You’re not the type of person to get black-out drunk on a Sunday night.
But still, that’s two nights this week you’ve come home drunk.
In literally any other circumstance, Mike would mind his own business, but you live with Abby now.
He remembers the little furrow of Abby’s brow when he told her that you got sick. How worried would Abby get if she heard you puking in the middle of the night? How the fuck could he even begin to explain that to her?
Mike doesn’t want her to be around someone who’s drinking themselves stupid; It’s dysfunctional. Didn’t you have enough respect for Abby to understand that?
He’ll talk to you about it tomorrow night, but tonight, he checks the medicine cabinet. Just to make sure you have enough aspirin for tomorrow morning.
The next morning goes normally. You make breakfast. Abby gets ready. Mike does the dishes.
He doesn’t want to deal with the aftermath of the upcoming conflict quite yet.
Mike just picked you up from work. You applied extra makeup this morning to cover up the dark circles under your eyes, but Mike knows they’re there.
“So, wanna talk about what happened last night?” He doesn’t even bother hiding the judgment from his tone.
“What happened last night?”
Mike feels a flame of anger roll through his body. He has to take a breath before responding, “Don’t play dumb”
You stop sipping on your coffee and lean against the back of the seat. You look out the window for a moment, like you’re thinking really hard about something.
Mike’s thumbs lightly tap the steering wheel. He can feel his temper simmer under his vertebrae.
You lick your lips, and fiddle with the hem of your shirt, “Okay, but first I want to apologize.”
He stays silent, but he’s a little surprised.
“I’ve been irresponsible, and inconsiderate, and I’m really sorry. It’s not fair for you to have to deal with the fallout of my bullshit.”
Mike agrees, but he’s not sure what he could say without expressing that agreement. So, he stays silent.
You rub your eyes, “Oliver and I broke up.”
Mike knows this. You didn’t tell him, but he lives with you, it’s not that hard to put two and two together. Why does it matter?
“I thought I was gonna spend the rest of my life with him, you know?”
Oh. No. He didn’t.
“I just… I’ve been taking it kind of hard,” you sit up, and your voice gains a bit of confidence, “it’s not an excuse, though. I promise it won’t happen again.”
Mike hears your promise, and releases a long breath he didn’t know he was holding.
You wanted to spend the rest of your life with Oliver. That’s… it makes sense that you’ve been getting drunk a lot.
“It’s okay,” he adjusts his hold on the steering wheel, and keeps his tone soft; like he’s trying to caress you with words, “it’s just with Abby - you know?” he shrugs and allows his sentence to hang in the air.
“No, yeah absolutely, I get it. I’m sorry I put you both in that position.”
Your words sound genuine.
Mike literally feels the fight flood out of his nervous system. The emptiness leftover makes him want to go to sleep.
The thought of the conversation tugged on his brain all day, like he was unconsciously gearing up for a fight, and now that it’s over he feels drained.
The drive stays silent until he arrives at Abby’s school. But it’s not submissive or uncomfortable silence. Mike doesn’t feel suffocated by the lack of conversation.
He’s parked at the front of the school when you talk again.
“Are we okay?” you ask, and the softness of your tone makes Mike melt.
“Yeah,” for the first time in the entire conversation - Mike looks at you - and he’s kind of surprised to find you already looking at him, “Yeah, we’re okay.”
Mike did not expect the apology, but he’s glad he got it.
If he’s being honest, he expected you to justify why you’ve been drinking, but your willingness to take accountability came completely out of left field.
That’s not to say Mike feels the apology was unnecessary. It’s more like, he wanted a justification for your behavior; he wanted to understand why you did what you did before getting truly upset with you, but he didn’t expect you to acknowledge how your crisis affected him. But you did.
It’s like, he went into a restaurant expecting his favorite meal, but instead he gets his favorite meal plus an ingredient that he didn’t know would make the entire meal better.
It makes him feel seen.
It makes him like you more.
After that, you seem more comfortable around Mike, and you don’t go out as often.
If you do, you’re home before midnight, and you’re sober.
If you’re not sober, you call, and let Mike know you’re staying at a friend’s for the night.
You act a bit differently too.
It’s kind of strange, because Mike thought you felt comfortable around him before that conversation, but apparently he underestimated how often you try to keep a professional facade around him and Abby.
But now, you allow him to see you in pajamas.
He didn’t even know you owned pajamas.
They’re cute and baggy; fluffy sweats that pool around your ankles, and a matching sweater.
You buy a shelf for Abby’s art supplies. You put it in the living room, in case she wants to draw while she watches TV.
Mike starts to wear sweats too.
Abby’s drawings start to fill up the empty space on the refrigerator
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lvrxly · 6 months
Text
୨୧- Big Bad Temptation
Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader
1k follower special, tysm!
warning!: pure smut ahead <3
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The front door opens and shuts in a swift movement, the silhouette of your husband gliding in the dimly lit house as he makes his way towards his office. Your teeth sink into the plum that you had just grabbed off of the countertop, the sweet juice of the purple fruit almost too sweet.
After a few beats and many bites later you toss the seed in the trash and make your way towards Simon's office, since he obviously wasn't seeking you out. When you reach the open door you see him leaning against his desk, a bottle of scotch to the side and a clear glass in his gloved hand. His balaclava is off, his dirty blonde hair messy and his eyebrows knitted together. He looked so handsome like this. Disheveled and irritated.
You can't help but rub your thighs together, your pink silk satin rob sliding off your shoulder, revealing the strap of your bra. The two of you looks so erotic, each in your own ways.
Simons eyes glance up at you, a slight fire is noticeable. He sets the glass down, his fists curling around the edge of his desk so hard his knuckles turn white. "Not in the mood for any company right now, love."
"Well I'm your wife, so I honestly don't care," you respond cooley, crossing your arms as you make your way over to him, hips swaying to which his eyes unwillingly follow. Your body was like a magnet to his eyes, he can't help but watch your every move, watch as your chest rises and falls with each breath, and watch as you bite the plump flesh of your bottom lip. Gods, how he loved your lips, he'd worship them whenever he got the chance.
"Love..." his voice is strained as he clears his throat, watching as you stand in front of him, your crossed arms pushing your breasts up against the material of your rob, making your cleavage almost painfully noticeable and hard to look away from. The lose knot of the belt begging for him to tug on it and make the shiny material fall to the floor. "I can't right now."
Your fingers trail up his chest, running up and down the fabric of his black tee. He feels his cock throb in his pants just from the small amount of contact. His eyes follow your hand as you move on to his biceps squeezing and feathering your fingertips across the ink covered skin. You feel him shudder under your gentle touches which causes you to smirk.
"Why not? Your body betrays you, my love," you whisper in a sweet tone, running your hand down to his jean which have tented over past few minutes. You palm his erection through his pants; his hips buck into your hand and he lets out a low groan.
"Because if I start then I'm afraid that I won't be able to stop.." he whispers in response, his breath shaky and his eyes low and sultry.
"Who's asking ya' to?"
And with that, his hand grips the back of your neck, pulling your lips against his own with a groan your not sure which chest it was ripped from. Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, twirling the baby hairs at the nape of his neck around your finger.
"Ya' taste so—fuckin' sweet.." he says against your lips, the sugary taste of the plum still on your lips. His hands wander your figure, gripping your ass in his large hands and kneading the flesh through your robe. In a swift motion he switches your guy's' position so now your the one pressed up against the desk, a yelp leaving your throat as the sharp edge of the wood hits you.
It's getting hard to breathe, so you push on Simon's chest, urging him to unattach his lips from yours. He does so, but begrudgingly. This gloves thumb swipes over your bottom lip, smearing the saliva that added a little shine to the flesh. He sticks two fingers inside your mouth, his pointer and middle, nodding his head at the glove, indicating he wants you to take it off.
With a sly smirk you bite down just above his finger tip and tilt your head back, watching as he pulls his hand out of your mouth, the black glove handing from your teeth.
"Fuck..." he mumbles to himself as he pulls the glove from between your teeth, tossing it onto his desk. "Spread your legs for me, love."
You gladly comply, spreading your thighs apart, the pink satin covering what Simon truly desires to see. He pushes the robe up, letting it bunch at your waist. He groans loudly as his eyes land on your bare cunt. "No panties? Naughty girl...were you walking around like this all day?— hm? Your bare cunt begging for someone to fuck it?"
"Simon.." You whimper, his fingers graze your core, the pad of his thumb lingering on your clit as he rubs circles against the sensitive bud.
"Already so wet for me, so wet for my fingers and cock—" He whispers against your collarbone as he kisses and sucks on your soft skin, the skin easily bruising with purple little hickeys. Oh how he loved to see you all marked up, knowing he's the only one who ever will be able to brand you.
You squirm and whimper under his touch as his middle and ring finger slid up and down the opening of your cunt, his thick fingers getting covered in your slick arousal. "Smells so sweet, 'nd you taste sweet too..everything about you is so sweet baby doll—" His groans into your neck, now leaving marks right below your ear.
"Please Simon..just put them in already..!" You practically whine, your hips bucking against his hand, your clit rutting against the palm of his hand. This little movement causes him to click his tongue in disapproval.
"Is my little whore that desperate? Naughty baby-" He pulls his hand away from your cunt all together, ignoring your whimper in protest. He grips your hips and flips you so your ass is facing him, your chest pressed against the cool wolf of his desk. He reaches around you, his hand finding the belt of your robe and tugging on one of the strings, letting the loose knot come undone and slipping the thing off of your shoulders and letting it fall to the carpeted floor.
You hear him groan at the sight of you, his hands rubbing and squeezing the swell of your ass, just as your about to protest your met with a sharp, stinging slap. Your bottom throbs in the wake of his slap, the skin was surely red. "Fucking hell Simon-" you breathe out, a small chuckle filling the room as he gently rubs the spot in which he had struck with his thumb.
He drops down to his knees and plants a kiss on your ass, his hands gripping your hips as he kisses further south which causes you to almost shiver in anticipation. His hands move from your hips down to your thighs, slowly, he pulls your legs open more than they already were and licks a strip up your cunt.
You moan, your hand over your mouth, trying to muffle the loud sound. His tongue darts out once more, the tip of his tongue teasing your clit as his fingers find their way back to your entrance. As his tongue flicks your clit he shoves his fingers inside of your cunt, curling his fingers just right to hit that spot he knows you love so so much.
Your back arches and your hand doesn't nothing to muffle the scream-moan that leaves those pretty little lips. Your forehead rests against his desk as your hips move on their own, pushing his face further between your legs.
With his tongue teasing your sensitive clit and his fingers bullying in and out of you at an ungodly pace, you near your climax, the room filled with lewd squelching, moans, and groans. He hums and groans against your pussy, he could never get enough of you. You tasted to fuckin' amazing.
"Si- I'm- oh fuck 'm cumming—" you manage out between moans, your walls clenching around his fingers as you finally reach your peak. You try and pull away from him as he continues to lick and finger your cunt in it's sensitive state.
"Si' stop! Please I-" you protest as he continues as if he's the one who can't get enough. Lapping up all your sweet juices on his tongue. Finally, he pulls his fingers out of you, giving your slit one last lick before standing from his place on the floor and leaning over you, his own arousal pressed against your ass.
"Is my pretty little wife still hungry for more? hm?"
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an: god i love this man, he's so UGH! anyways i just wanna say a big thanks to all y'all for 1k followers!! much love to all of ya
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