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nanaslutt · 4 months

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Bathtime

synopsis: When Uraume informs you about Sukuna's ability to lactate but his disdain for emptying his tits, you know exactly what to do to help

contains: fem reader, you're Sukuna's assistant, true form Sukuna, nipple play, lactation kink, masturbation, dry humping, mention of blood, dirty talk, sexual tension, porn with plot // wc: 6.6k

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

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Sukuna had grown quite irritable lately, more so than usual. It had been a few days since he started acting out, and you had no idea how to get closer to him to find out what was wrong. Sukuna wouldn't even let Uraume into his chambers to drop off his food, always making them leave it outside the door. It was a gamble whether he would even eat the food at all.

Sukuna spent the majority of his time locked up in his room, or down the way at a nearby village, blowing off steam. This time when he came back though, he looked worse for wear. His face was in a permanent scowl, his muscles were twitching under his skin, and blood was coating every inch of his body. Not his, but he still looked rough.

"Sukuna let me-" The king bumps his into your smaller body, making you fall back against the wall behind you, your arms reaching back to brace yourself. Uraume stood opposite from you in the room, catching your eyes before they fell to the floor. They kept their hands together in front of them, watching Sukuna's silhouette disappear from their peripheral vision. When the door to his chambers slammed shut, the loud sound echoing through the halls, Uraume let their gaze drift up as they made their way over to you.

"Are you alright?" They asked, brushing the dust off of your kimono. You ignored their question, your eyes latching on the outside of his chamber doors. "What is his problem? He's always grumpy but... this is new." You said, rubbing the ache from the back of your neck. Uraume sighed and placed their hands back together in front of them, putting some distance between the two of you.

"I know you haven't been this close to Sukuna-sama for very long, but this isn't out of character for him at times. There's a reason for it." You looked back over to Uraume, confusion evident on your features as you tilted your head to the side. "He- He doesn't like to acknowledge it, he's stubborn," Uraume said, averting their gaze. Their expression looked conflicted, their nose scrunched as they stared at the floor.

"Acknowledge what?" You asked, prying further. "Sukuna, he-" Uraume paused to clear their throat before they finished, "he lactates." It took a moment for their words to register in your head, but once they did, your jaw dropped. Just when you were about to question them further, they spoke again. "He knows he needs to drain them, but he hates the act of doing so. Which makes him ignore his problem. As a result, as you can imagine, the feeling is quite uncomfortable for him, making him more... grumpy than usual." Uraume explained, using the word you used earlier.

You opened and closed your mouth like a fish out of water, trying to find the right words before you spoke. "How long do these fits of his last?" You asked Uraume. The white-haired chef looked around at the walls that surrounded them, pondering. "His longest fit was two months. It was excruciating to try and care for him during that time, it always is." Uraume said, sighing. They sounded exhausted.

You wanted to pat them on the back, you didn't know how they dealt with his attitude so well sometimes. "How does he go back to normal?" You ask, fidgeting with the fabric of your kimono absentmindedly as you speak. "All he has to do is relieve himself. He has pumps I keep in the kitchen. If he's ready, he'll come find them." Uraume said, suppressing an eye roll.

You felt bad the chef had to deal with this for decades. Just how many fits of his has he gone through while Uraume was at his side? He probably never thanked them either. You've always looked up to Uraume. They had the kind of elegance and patience you could only dream of achieving someday. You stared at the freshly swept floors of Sukuna's residence. The shiny black tile reflects the light from the chandeliers above you, blinding you.

"I'll take care of it," You said vaguely, determination laced in your tone. Uraume's eyebrows furrowed together as they looked at you quizzically. "I hate to see you get treated so roughly by him all because he refuses to milk his tits." Uraume's eyes went wide, their hand shot up to block their expression from you, hiding the blush that crept up their face from your use of anatomy language for the man.

"You- I don't know if you'll have much luck. He's a stubborn man." Uraume said, sounding like they were dismissing your idea. You were about to try and press them further when they spoke before you. "But if you really want to give it a go, I'll take you to where I keep his pumps." Uraume could swear your eyes shimmered at their words.

You took a deep breath before rapping your knuckles against the king's quarters, immediately dropping to your knees, the pump tucked away in a bag, slung around your shoulder. "Sukuna-Sama, I ran a bath for you and I-" The door swung open before you could finish your sentence. The door slammed hard against the wall, making you close your eyes, your body tensing reflexively. You saw two sock and sandal-covered feet in your line of sight, making your heart race.

"Let me help you wash up Sukuna." It wasn't uncommon for you to help Skuna in the bath, help him get dressed, other mundane tasks, so your proposal didn't seem out of the blue. You wanted to give your reason for asking, as you usually just assumed you would unless he said otherwise. But you guessed if you had added that you wanted to help him because he seemed like he was having a hard time lately, he would mistake it for pity, and your head would be severed from your body.

Only Sukuna truly knew your worth to him, so he would never do such a thing, but you thought otherwise. Sukuna huffed out a breath before he walked past you and took a sharp left, heading to the bathroom, where you had already drawn him a bath.

You sighed in relief when he turned another corner, now out of your view. You briefly wondered what the hell you were doing. Hands clasped together in front of you, you pushed open the cracked door of the bathroom. You were met with Sukuna's rippling back, covered in now dried blood from his earlier massacre, contrasting nicely against his pale skin. Your eyes dared to travel down further, starting from his heels, up the strong muscles of his calves, and the tight muscles of his as-

Sukuna's glowing red eyes peered at you from over his shoulder, making you swiftly avert your eyes, finding the floor of the bathroom. It was hot in the room as you shut the door behind you, locking yourself in with your king. You couldn't tell if the heat you felt creeping through your body was from the steam around you, or something else.

Splashing of water took you out of your trance and back to the man in front of you as he descended into the tub, the clear fluid overflowing around him, creating a mess on the floor. Swallowing whatever saliva was left in your dry mouth, you walked forward, making sure not to sneak up on him and instead walking around the side of the bath to set your bag on the chair in the corner of the room, a few feet in front of the bath.

You didn't dare to look, but you could feel Sukuna's eyes tracking your every move from the moment you were in his sights. You squeezed your fists into the fabric of the bag, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath as you tried to ready yourself to turn around and face him.

"You're nervous." Sukuna's deep voice cut through the tense, hot room, creating goosebumps along your flesh. You turned on your heels, making eye contact with him. You tried to ignore the now pinkish color of the skin of his chest in your peripherals, his body warmed by the water around him. "Nonsense, it's just a little hot in here." You explained, making your way towards the tub.

When you reached the side of the bath centered in the room, you reached out to grab the washcloth hanging off the side, half submerged in the water. Sukuna's hand gripped your wrist entirely, his stronghold keeping you in your place. you didn't dare to even breathe. "Lie to me again, you won't like the consequences." You tried to keep your breathing steady as your eyes traced the rippled in the water around his knee.

You nodded, still averting your gaze. The only thing you could hear was how intense your heartbeat sounded in your ears. His touch had been so unexpected. If you weren't nervous before, you certainly were now. Sukuna squeezed your small wrist, cutting off your blood flow entirely for a moment, your hand throbbing at the loss of it. You could feel his eyes cutting daggers through the side of your face. Finally, he released you, placing his heavy hand back along the side of the tub.

You took the washcloth in your hand and walked around the tub until you were met with his wide back. You took deep breaths behind him, trying to steady your racing heart now that you were out of his sight at least. Unfolding the washcloth, already hot and damp with water, you reached out and placed it against Sukuna's skin, not missing the way his muscles contracted under your touch.

Taking care of Sukuna relaxed you, you felt most at a place like this. Your eyes traced the markings on his skin as you rubbed the dried blood from his body, collecting it on the washcloth. You leaned down to your side, crouching a bit as you dipped the rag in a smaller bucket of water, cleaning the blood off of it before you went in again. The water turned a pinkish color from the first wipe.

"Relax Sukuna, you did a lot of work today." You said, trying to ease him as you rubbed the rag over his shoulders, your other hand holding atop his other shoulder. Sukuna all but grunted at your words, his eyes darting around in front of him, trying to find something worthy of stimulating his vision. Your body relaxed from his tame reaction, the hot water must be doing wonders on his chest. You decided to push your luck.

Moving to the side of him, you brought the rag over his shoulder and around his collarbones, ridding him of the crimson blood there. The water was a big moggy from the blood that had coated the rest of his body, making it hard to see into the water. You could only see blurry shots of his body parts when you dipped the rag into the water.

Sukuna was watching you again, and this time you hadn't noticed. You were too focused on your job at hand, that you failed to notice the piercing red eyes tracking you. You leaned over the tub slightly, reaching the blood that stained his other collarbone. Sukuna was exhausted. The hot water bordering on boiling his skin combined with your soft touch was lulling him away into a calmer headspace.

His chest ached, the feeling standing out like a sore thumb compared to how relaxed the rest of his body was. You noticed his hand on the tub opposite from you had relaxed, his arm now just resting along the side instead of gripping it. You peeked your eyes over at his neck, looking at his face through the corners of your eyes. Sukuna's breathing was even, and his face was still, his eyes shut. You knew he wasn't completely unguarded, he never was, but he was relaxing.

You dipped your hand into the hot water of his tub, your gaze finding his hard chest as you rang out the towel. You couldn't tell if his nipples were red from the hot water, or from his little predicament. Seeing as how his chest was above water though, you could make an educated guess.

It looked so swollen. Sukuna's muscles were impressive, yes, but you were extremely familiar with his body, and his chest was larger than before. He had kept you away from him for almost a week, so you had failed to notice it before. The skin of his chest looked taut and almost stretched. You placed the rag just above his chest, your eyes finding his face to check if he noticed or felt anything displeasing.

When he gave you no reaction, you dragged the rag down his chest, maybe pressing a little too hard as you went down, but you were determined to ease his ache. You only made it about halfway down his chest before you were being restrained again. This time, Sukuna was more dramatic.

He shot up from the tub, the water reaching about his knees as he kept a strong hold on your arm, distancing you from his chest. Your heart had started racing again, this level of stress seriously couldn't be good for your health. Sukuna's lip twitched in disdain, his eyes sharp and pointed as he glared at you, his jaw muscles clenching under the weight of his teeth.

You forced yourself to speak, "S-sukuna are you alright?" You asked, feigning ignorance the best you could with how in shock you were from his abrupt actions. Sukuna's breathing stayed quick, his gaze angry. He looked as if he was trying to see if you were being honest, if your words were genuine. More time went by, and his nails digging into your skin hurt you more than you cared to admit. Your arm throbbing where he grabbed you.

"Not. Not there." Sukuna said, sucking in a deep breath. You stayed quiet, mustering a confused look on your face. "My pecs. Do not touch them." He clarified, seeing as how you didn't understand his words the first time. You nodded quickly, keeping your lips firmly shut. It was only then that you realized you were face to face with his crotch.

Sukuna had been naked in front of you countless times, but that doesn't mean you got any more used to it. You've never fully got a glance at his... down there, always stopping yourself from leaning into your desires and looking at him. For some reason in this atmosphere, you wanted to look so bad. More so than you ever have before. You were usually good at curbing your arousal for the king, but it was growing harder and harder the more time you spent with him.

Sukuna squinted his eyes at you before he crouched back down, two of his hands grabbing the sides of the tub as he descended back down, his face now coming more level with your own. You softly pulled back against his hand, reminding him he needed to let you go.

He obeyed seconds later, his eyes staying locked on your face the whole time. Dipping the rag in the water, you swirled it around, pretending you were cleaning it off good before you spoke. "Sukuna-sama, may I ask you something?" You said softly, not wanting to irritate him further. Sukuna stayed silent. Your eyes found his when he failed to answer, that's when you noticed the curt nod he gave you.

Looking back at the rag, you rang it out with two hands, the water droplets creating rings on the surface. "Forgive me for asking, but why am I not allowed to wash you there?" You asked, furrowing your eyebrows as you spoke, trying to give him the impression you really didn't know his situation. "You're... there's still blood on your chest." You added.

Sukuna's eyes stayed locked on yours, an unreadable expression on his features. "The water will wash it away." He responded, ignoring your question. You returned his words with a short nod of understanding. You knew better than to expect Sukuna to admit to you he was in pain. He wouldn't even admit it to himself.

You dragged the washcloth along the side of his torso, along his ribs just under his arm. Sukuna's lip twitched, the pressure from his chest extended to the side of his pecs as well, making your touch irritable, but Sukuna was able to control his reaction, miraculously.

You noticed the water shift with him as he pushed his hips forward, sliding down into the water more as you scrubbed his body clean of the blood. "Would you like me to abstain from touching you here too?" You asked, keeping your eyes on his chest instead of his face when you asked the question. "If I don't want you touching me somewhere, you will know," Sukuna said, his eyes squinting at you as he spoke.

Before you could stop yourself, you let out a soft laugh. More like a soft breath of air passing through your nose, but the small smile on your face made the sound have a direct correlation. You corrected yourself immediately, clearing your throat you distanced yourself from his body a bit and dipped the towel back into the water.

Walking around the other side of the tub, going behind him to escape his gaze for a moment, you started cleaning the blood off of his left side. You pressed your fingers along the sides of his ribs, making small circle motions almost at the end of his pec, giving him small relief through the discomfort. Sukuna was now staring at the ceiling, his jaw bulging under the weight of his teeth each time you pressed against the side of his sore pec.

Just when you were about to move on to another part of him, as you were dragging your hand away from the underside of his chest, a small white drop of fluid dripped down his chest and met with the water below him, right next to your hand. You froze in place, watching how the milky color faded into the crimson water, becoming the same shade.

You peeked your eyes up and noticed Sukuna was still looking away, meaning you could investigate a little. Biting your lip, you repeated the same action, rubbing right under his chest. This time though, you kept your eyes on his red nipples, as you had a pretty strong indication of what had happened, and you didn't want to miss it this time.

As you pressed against him, sure enough, another white droplet dripped down his chest, following the same trail as the last. The small droplet left an off-white streak along his pale skin. You pressed your thighs together, you had no idea the sight would be so erotic. Hell, you were starting to think you were going to be unsuccessful in your endeavors with getting to relieve Sukuna.

While you were ogling his tits and subtly rubbing your thighs together, trying to diminish the heat that was forming between your legs, Sukuna had dropped his eyes on you. You were foolish to think he wouldn't feel himself lactating, and especially stupid if you didnt think he wouldn't pick up on how you repeatedly rubbed him in the same spot.

Sukuna watched carefully as milk spilled from his chest, your watchful, lidded eyes not missing a single second of it. "Are you having fun?" His voice echoed in the hot room, making your hair stand on edge at the sound. You swallowed hard, slowly retreating your hand away from him. You let your eyes trace his tattooed skin up and up and up, until you were met with his face, which looked almost amused.

"You planned to do this all along didn't you?" He accused, making your eyebrows shoot up in shock. You distanced yourself, dropping the rag in the tub with him as you waved your hands in front of yourself. "N-no Sukuna, I just- I noticed it just now." You explained, looking anywhere but his face. "I put the pieces together just now. Y-you told me not to touch your t-" You quickly corrected yourself, about to use an extremely inappropriate word to describe your boss's pecs.

You cleared your throat before you spoke. "-Chest, and when I saw the liquid just now I-" "What did I say about lying?" Sukuna interrupted, making you find his eyes swiftly. You furrowed your eyebrows together, a drop of sweat sliding down your face. "Do you think I wouldn't hear you talking to Uraume in the hall? You were a mere ten feet away from my quarters, you think my hearing is so inefficient?"

You felt all the blood drain from your face, your jaw falling open in tandem, you were going to die here. "Looks like I wasn't hearing things then," Sukuna smirked, your reaction giving everything away. Your skin was vibrating, and the heat you felt between your legs was gone in an instant, only fear remained inside of you.

Sukuna smiled, resting his head in his hand as he looked you up and down. "Well? Aren't you going to defend yourself?" He asked, a smug look on his face.

You decided it was now or never, he was already for sure going to kill you. Might as well fess up. "I- if you knew, why did you let me go when I touched your chest the first time? Surely you knew my intentions." You asked, keeping your distance. Sukuna's smile grew, smile lines forming around it. "It's fun to tease you." He said shamelessly like the sadist he is. You swallowed hard, resisting the urge to look away from his intense gaze.

"Uraume tried to talk me out of it. If you're going to take this out on anyone, take it out on me. I couldn't stand seeing you treat them so harshly, so I took your pumps and ran you a bath, hoping I would be able to relieve you somehow." You blabbed, keeping your hands firmly in front of yourself. Sukuna clicked his tongue in his mouth, his eyes having a darker look in them after your confession.

"I half-assed ambush." He responded. "Just how did you think you were going to get those horrid things on my chest without me noticing? Hm?" Sukuna asked, his tone becoming harsher when he spoke of the pumps. You took in a deep breath and turned your head to the side, looking at your bag which had the pumps tucked away.

"Worst case I was going to ask you straight up and see if you cut my head off or not." You replied. Sukuna laughed at how casually you spoke to him, you must really think you were going to die. "But you surmised deceiving me would be better than being direct?" Sukuna challenged, his eyes giving you a one-over while you weren't looking.

The atmosphere had gotten hot again. The heat started returning to your body the longer you stayed alive. Why hadn't he taken your life yet? You looked back to him and nodded, not giving him any more of your reasons, you had spoken enough. Sukuna dropped his hand back down along the side of the tub and tipped his head back, his slanted eyes staring at you from behind his bottom lashes.

"Ask." He said curtly, his fingers tapping along the side of the tub. You blinked at him, considering his words carefully. After a long beat of silence, you spoke. "Sukuna-Sama, may I help you relieve yourself with the pumps?" You asked, keeping your eyes on his. His toothy grin made you throb under your robe. "No." He replied. You still kept your eyes on him, challenging him.

"Ask again." He demanded, tipping his head to the side. "Sukuna-Sama." You paused at his name as you figured out the meaning behind his words. His disdain while he spoke about the pumps must mean he didn't want to use them, but what other way was there? Possibly he couldn't mean...

"Can I relieve you?" You asked, leaving out the part about the pumps. Sukuna released a soft laugh, amused and impressed at how quickly you had figured out what he wanted you to ask. "And how will you relieve me?" He pushed further.

The vagueness in his words made you fight the urge to press your thighs together, a fire burning hot between them. "Anyway, you'd like me to, Sukuna." You replied, not even daring to blink as you tested him. Sukuna licked his lips before tipping his head back down, looking at you straight on. "What are you waiting for then?" He challenged, his knees poking out the top of the water spreading to make room for... something, or someone.

You slowly walked up to the tub, your eyes never once leaving his. "Perhaps we should change the water first." You replied, leaning down to the drain on the outside of the tub. Sukuna's hand grabbed the back of your neck firmly as you leaned down, stopping you from moving any further. "That won't be necessary." He replied, pulling you upwards.

"You aren't afraid of a little blood are you?" He teased, one of his eyebrows raising in amusement. You shook your head, placing your hand on his that still held the back of your neck. Sukuna released you, the smile still evident on his face. Your heart was racing a million miles a minute. He wanted you to get in the tub with him right? That's why he said that? What if you were interpreting his words wrong? What if-"

"Get it. Keep me waiting for another second and I'm changing my mind." Sukuna's deep voice reverberated through your body, shutting down any insecure thought that popped into your head. He was fibbing, there was no way he could go any longer without having his chest milked, he was so sore but his teasing was the only way to get you to hurry up.

You pulled the bow keeping your robe together undone, the thick fabric falling off of your body, exposing a thinner, white robe underneath. Sukuna felt saliva start to pool in his mouth, he could see the figure of your body almost perfectly now, and he would see it even clearer once you got in the water with him. You kicked the kimono to the side and grabbed the edge of the tub.

You swung your leg over it, dipping it into the blood-stained water. Immediately the temperature made you tense the muscles in your leg as you inhaled a sharp breath. "There you go." Sukuna said softly, his large hand grabbing your thigh, pulling you into the bath with him. If the atmosphere didnt feel tense and intimate earlier, it sure as hell did now.

You slipped on the bottom of the tub when your foot reached the bottom, your kimono getting drenched with the water around you, making the fabric sheer as you reached out and Grabbed Sukuna's shoulders, bracing yourself. Sukuna tsked, blinking away the water that had splashed in his eye before your waist was being grabbed with two hands and you were pulled into the water, your thighs straddling his pelvis, just above his...

"Didn't know you could be so clumsy." Sukuna teased, making your face turn bright red as you retracted your hands from his shoulders, sitting back. He kept a strong hold on your waist, keeping you against him. "I wonder what else you're hiding from me." Sukuna purred, tiping his head at you. You swallowed hard before looking down at his chest, swollen and irritated.

It felt like millions of little needles were pricking your skin from the heat, but the sight of Sukuna's chest in front of you distracted you enough for the pain to not feel unbearable. "How- how do I go about..." You stuttered softly, fidgeting with your hands in front of you. "Ask your question in a way I can understand. You aren't a child." Sukuna retorted, making you scrunch your eyebrows together in embarrassment.

His glowing eyes on you didnt help how nervous you were feeling. "The liquid that came out of them earlier, what was it?" You asked, backtracking to make sure you knew exactly what you were dealing with. Sukuna looked unimpressed, staring at you like you were dumb. "What do you think? Surely you can't be that dense," he responded. You felt the vein in your head throb, was he incapable of answering a question straight on?

You were hesitant to ask your next question. How you should get the milk out. Usually, mothers would breastfeed or use a pump to get the milk out, was it really the same for Sukuna? "Why do you produce... milk?" You asked, reaching out slowly before softly placing your hands on his chest with featherlight pressure.

"I'm not a mother if that's what you're asking," Sukuna said, a hint of humor behind his deadpanned answer. You didn't even know he was capable of making jokes. "Of course not." You responded, softly squeezing his chest, resulting in a long inhale from the man underneath you, his nails digging into your waist.

Sukuna's eyes fell to your chest, which was not soaked with the water and sheer. Unfortunately for him, you were wearing a bra, but the sight of it through your now-see-through clothes was a treat nonetheless. "Just do what you feel is right." He answered your unspoken question, his eyes lazily sliding back up to find yours.

With a nod, your eyes left him and dropped down to his tatted chest. You unknowingly wiggled on his lap before you groped his chest harder, resulting in Sukuna rolling his head to the side. You pressed the tight muscles together, rubbing his chest in circles, trying to increase his blood flow there. Sukuna's eyes shut halfway at the painfully pleasureful.

You worked your hands from the outside of his chest inward until you reached his nipples. You felt yourself throb between the legs repeatedly, the pace almost matching that of your heartbeat. You had no idea how worked up this would make you. Sukuna winced, almost unnoticeably, when you squeezed your hands right around his nipples, a white stream trickling down his chest.

You wanted to apologize, but once again didnt want him to feel self-conscious about feeling the pain. Sukuna rolled his eyes, his lip twitching at the feeling of his tits being milked bringing him relief in more ways than one. His cock had been hard from the moment you had started bathing him, his teasing and your facade of not knowing what you were doing to him only riled him up more.

The pressure of your hands stimulating his irritated chest outweighed the pleasure with the discomfort, leading Sukuna to grip your waist harder and groan. "Use your mouth, this method is insufficient." He growled, his voice coming out more hoarse than before.

He wanted you to... suck his nipples? You knew better than to ask any follow-up questions, Sukuna was clearly irritated enough. He was at his breaking point. You squeezed your thighs around his torso, trying to press your clit against his lower tummy to bring yourself some relief, completely forgetting that his body was a part of him and he could feel everything you were doing.

Sukuna stayed silent about your arousal for now. With a soft nod, you leaned forward and latched your lips around his nipple, waiting a brief moment to gather yourself before you sucked. Sukuna immediately groaned, and you made a noise of surprise as his milk flooded your mouth, the taste of it sweeter than you imagined.

Sukuna's hand pressed firmly against the back of your head, his low groans filling the bathroom as you sucked harder, your tongue lapping over his nipple occasionally, soothing the bud. Sukuna groaned through his teeth, his head tipping back as he relished in the feeling of his chest being milked.

Countless times he's had to relieve himself with the pump, and never once has it ever felt like this. Sukuna's cock twitched repeatedly with the need for attention each time you suckled around his nipple. "Yeahhhh, yeah this is doin' it." Sukuna groaned, shaking his head back and forth as he looked down at you. You peeked up at him, moaning around his nipple as you did your best to make eye contact with him, your eyebrows furrowed.

"Can't tell who this is for with how much yer rubbin' on me." Sukuna teased. He was right, you had been so absorbed in sucking on his chest that you failed to realize you had been steadily humping against his lower abdomen, giving your clit some much-needed friction. You stopped and pulled off of his chest the moment he exposed you, his hand still holding the back of your head.

Milk dripped out from his nipple, running down his chest. "I didn't say you had to stop, did I?" He corrected, raising his eyebrows in an unimpressed manner. "I told you, didn't I? Do what you have to do."

You nodded quickly with a hot face before you leaned down and latched your lips around his other nipple. A loud, long groan was released from Sukuna's longs as you started sucking, some of the milk you were unable to swallow spilling out from your lips and down your chest. Sukuna pulled his lower lip between his teeth, his eyes threatening to roll back in his head at the nipple stimulation.

You heard a sloshing sound behind you. At first, you thought it was your body creating the noise now that you were grinding your cunt on his pelvis freely, but you quickly realized it was something much different when you felt his hand repeatedly bumping against your back. Sukuna was jerking off.

"So eager huh?" Sukuna teased, his voice much darker and needier now. Sukuna was wasting no time with teasing himself by taking things slow, your tongue flicking against his nipples made his balls ache with the need to drain them, so that was exactly what he was going to do. Pulling back from his chest you sat up and began tweaking with the swollen buds, making milk leak down them.

Sukuna's hips jolted under yours, making your body jump against him. "Almost there, they're almost empty." Sukuna nodded, his eyes fluttering in their sockets. You weren't sure if he was talking about his situation under the water, or his chest. Nonetheless, you leaned forward and took a nipple back into your mouth again, sucking harder, trying to drain him completely.

Your own humping was thrown off as Sukuna began fucking up into his fist, the tip of his cock poking you in the back each time he did so. The water sloshed around you, spilling out on the floor from the tub. "Uh-huh. uh-huh, keep sucking, keeeeep fucking sucking." Sukuna demanded, his head falling back along with his jaw.

His jerking was sporadic now. You moaned and whined around his nipple, your sounds coming out choppy and high-pitched from the movement of his body under yours. His pelvis was bumping forcefully against your clit, it almost felt like he was fucking you like this. "The other one, suck the other one, do it now." Sukuna groaned, his nails digging against your scalp, leaving a mean tingling sensation against it.

Sukuna's chest felt empty and much less taught than before, the previous throbbing all gone, save for the throbbing of his nipples from the pleasure you were giving him. Your lithe fingers tweaked the nipple you weren't sucking as you obeyed him and switched to the other, only getting small drops on your tongue now. You had truly sucked him dry.

Sukuna's hips lost their rhythm, his body going taught under you as his arm went stiff, doing the best he could to jerk himself up to his high. His jaw fell open further and his eyes rolled back in his head. A long, deep groan was released as he came. Long white ropes of cum shot out from his cock right against your back. He rubbed his tip against your skin while he jerked himself off, working himself through it with your help.

His cum mixed in with the water around him. His balls twitched and clenched as they pushed out every last drop of his cum. Pulling away from Sukuna's nipple you pressed both hands against his now empty chest and started humping against his lower stomach, his hard pelvis muscles rubbing perfectly against your clit, making your head spin.

"Nghhh- S-sukuna-" You cried absentmindedly, resulting in a large hand smacking over your mouth, followed by an amused laugh. "Yeah yeah, get yourself off on me but be quiet about it, don't need anyone else hearin' you cry my name," Sukuna said breathlessly, his hand still holding the base of his now spent cock as he watched you finish yourself off.

His hands around your waist tightened and helped you rub yourself along his muscles when he noticed you were having a little trouble the closer you got. "You gonna cum?" He asked, furrowing his eyebrows at you, a hint of neediness in his voice. You nodded, your moans getting muffled by his hand. "Cum then, I'll help you," Sukuna said, pressing you harder against him, bringing more friction to your sensitive clit.

Your eyes rolled back in your head at the feeling, now only seconds from crashing down into your high as you rubbed your needy pussy on him. Sukuna nodded at you, his jaw falling open in a small o, occasionally cracking into a small smile as he watched your eyes and eyebrows twitch and furrow in tandem.

Your hand left his chest to wrap around his arm at the last second to ground yourself as your orgasm hit you. "There you go." Sukuna drawled, smiling to himself as your body jerked forward and your hips stopped moving on your own. He helped you move against him. Each time your throbbing clit bumped into his lower abs while you came another loud muffled moan was caught behind his hand.

When you tapped repeatedly against his large arm, he loosened his grip on your waist and released your mouth. A string of saliva connected from your lips to his hand, something you would've been embarrassed about if you were in a clearer mindset.

Sukuna pat your ass a few times under the water, trying to coax you back into the real world. "That felt good, huh? Looked like it felt good." Sukuna teased. Your eyes were all out of focus and your chest rose and fell heavily with every deep breath you took. "Don't get sleepy on me now, still gotta clean this mess up."

You wanted to roll your eyes at his audacity. You just drained his tits and came on him and he was already telling you to clean up? "A...A thank you would be nice." You said, wiping your hand over your eyes, getting the sweat off of your face. Sukuna smiled before his hand gripped your chin firmly, shaking your face back and forth.

"I think the cum I spilled was thank you enough." He said snarkily, making you sigh. He laughed at your irritation, glad to see you were coming back. "Have Uraume throw the pumps away when you get finished here." He said, making you tip your head to the side and look at him funny.

"I don't think I'm going to need them anymore."

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lilahisntsadanymore · 7 months

Text

Growing up with a deatheater father doesn't teach you much about emotions, so when Theo finds himself developing an infatuation with a muggle-born, he thinks she gave him a love potion.

Pairing: Theo Nott x granger!fem!reader

Words count: 1.9k

Warnings: jealous Harry

There is a 2nd part!! <3

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

Unveiled Desires

It was strange to him. So strange how he went from mocking, annoying and occasionally bullying her every step she takes to secretly wanting her. Wanting to have her, or even needing her.

He didn't know how or when it happened, but one day he realized she was constantly in his head. It creeped up on him in small steps and eventually he had developed an infatuation for the girl.

Of course nobody knew about it, Theo wouldn't dare telling anyone. He just kept with his antics, hoping the obsession will somewhat disappear one day. Unfortunately, the more he tried to get rid of this feeling, the more he gave it power, the more it grew.

But he couldn't be with her. He couldn't be with a mudblood.

But he wanted to be with her. The more he thought about it, the less he cared about the blood status. He cursed at himself for these thoughts. Raised by a deatheater father, he would get disowned for dating anyone who wasn't a pureblood.

"Granger, can I talk to you for a second?" A question left his mouth as he approached the Golden Trio. Who was better to talk to about Y/n than her older sister?

The three Gryffindors looked at Theo as if he wasn't good in the head. Just casually wanting to have a chat, a normal chat, with someone outside of his social circle. Pretty unusual for a Slytherin.

"What is it?" Harry asked protectively.

"I was talking to Granger. I need to talk privately."

Hermione looked at Harry and Ron, exchanging suspecting glances. Eventually she spoke, "Alright, but make it quick."

"Great, let's go." Theo started walking, but Hermione stood in her place.

"Where are you going?"

"Somewhere they," he gestured to Harry and Ron, "aren't gonna eavesdrop."

Hermione crossed her arms on her chest, a knowing expression on her face.

Theo raised his hands, "It's not a trap again, I swear."

The girl sighed and walked after her rival.

Hermione and Theodore weren't fond of each other not only because of their houses and their blood statuses, but also because they were academic rivals. Both of them were extremely competitive. Since first year they aspired to be better than one another in pretty much everything.

"Can we stop already?" The girl asked. "I'm pretty sure they won't ear us from here."

"Alright, alright." Theo agreed. "But I need you to promise me you won't tell anybody about it."

"Why me? Why would you trust a Gryffindor with keeping a secret for you?"

Theo lowered his voice to a whisper, "Because it's about your sister."

"What?!" Hermione's voice was the opposite of a whisper. "What have you done to her?!"

The boy gestured telling her to lower her voice. "No, I didn't do anything. She has done...something."

"What on Earth could that possibly be?" A little more quiet, but still unpleasantly surprised, she decided to listen to him.

One last time, Theo looked around to make sure there's nobody there who could be a witness to what he was about to say.

"She used some spell on me." He accused. "Or put something in my food, my drink."

Hermione scoffed with laughter. "You must be joking. You bully her for whole five years, but one time she pays you back for it, it's an issue?"

"Not like that." He took a second to gather his thoughts. "Granger, do you remember how we learnt about amortentia few weeks ago? I think Y/n gave it to me."

Hermione started at the boy for a moment and then burst out with laughter. Y/n wasn't the issue, there was no way a fifth year would be able to make amortentia. Not even Y/n Granger.

Theodore felt annoyed and offended by Hermione's reaction. He looked at her with disgust. "What is so funny to you about it, mu-, Granger?"

Noticing how he almost called her a slur, her expression immediately became serious. "Seriously? You know what, deal with it by yourself. I don't even know why you're telling me all of this."

"Why? Because you have to talk to her, tell her to do something about it! Tell her to stop it!"

Hermione got a brilliant idea.

"You know, I've heard professor Slughorn had a remedy for amortentia."

"Yeah, and I'll end up in the hospital wing like Weasley."

"It was poisoned mead, not the amortentia cure itself. You can ask him to make one from the ingredients in the classroom."

"I will," Theo scoffed, "look at you being useful for the first time in your life."

Without another word, Hermione walked away. "Boys..." She muttered to herself.

"Don't tell anyone I told you this!"

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

"What?! He likes me?!" Y/n asked with blush on her face. "Theodore Nott likes me? The boy that has been bullying me for the past five years?"

"And the thinks it's because you gave him amortentia." Hermione giggled.

Y/n wouldn't ever think that he could be into her and the whole story that her sister had told her was simply unbelievable. But Hermione had no business in lying to her very own little sister, especially not about that.

"Does anyone else know about this?"

"Not yet, but I talked him into asking Slughorn for the cure! I suppose he'll do this tomorrow after class, as soon as possible."

"Who are you and what have you done to my sister?"

The girls were sitting alone in the common room and as Y/n laughed, Ron and Harry walked in.

"What are you two laughing about?" Harry asked, ready to hear that story.

"Can I tell them?" Hermione looked at Y/n. The younger Granger nodded. "Nott likes Y/n."

The girls and Ron laughed, meanwhile Harry stood there with his lips in a thin line, far away from laughing.

"The best part is," Hermione continued, "he thinks Y/n gave him amortentia!"

"What?" Harry spoke eventually, his voice a bit more surprised than it should be. "Y/n, did you give amortentia to Nott?"

"No, why would you accuse me of this?!" The youngest girl defended herself. "Is it that unbelievable that he can fancy me?"

"I mean... You're a muggleborn... And-"

"And what?! Does that mean I'm not worthy of that? We don't know him, maybe he doesn't believe in this whole blood purity thing."

"He does. That's why he hasn't asked you out. And he never will. Because they're all the same."

Y/n's eyes became a little glossy, the tears ready to start flowing anytime. "Are they, though? And you're saying this. You, whose godfather was Sirius Black."

"Sirius was different!"

"We don't know because we don't know what Theo is like!"

"Theo? It was Nott for the past few years that he was tormenting you," Harry put an emphasis on the word bullying, "now he fancies you and he becomes Theo?"

"I would actually give him a chance. It's not his fault that he was born into a blood purity obsessed family."

"Don't you think that's a little pathetic? Running into his hands the moment you find out he might fancy you meanwhile you had chances to date...other Gryffindors."

"Pathetic? You call me pathetic?"

"I didn't call you pathetic, I said what you do is-"

A sound of a slap filled the room, but the following silence spoke even louder. Y/n looked Harry in the eyes, a light red mark on his cheek that her hand left.

Harry could see and sense that it was too much, he said unnecessary words. He regretted them, but he just couldn't stop them from coming out.

The Golden Trio watched Y/n run upstairs. She was so glad nobody else was in the bedroom yet.

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

"Excuse me, professor," Theo walked up to Slughorn after the class on the following day.

All the other students were slowly exiting the room, Harry's eyes fixed on the Slytherin standing by the teacher's desk.

"Yes, Theodore?" Slughorn asked. "Do you have some more bright insights you'd like to share with me?" He was clearly happy to have this conversation.

"I actually need help, professor."

The man's expression dropped. "Yes? Do you have a problem?"

"I'm worried that I've been given amortentia."

Slughorn's eyes widened. He was surprised or even shocked. "Are you sure? I remember seeing other people under the influence of several love potions and you don't quite match the criteria."

"There's this girl who I can't stop thinking about... I suspect she has given it to me."

"Who that might be?"

Theo waited until all the other students exit the classroom before he said the name.

"Y/n Granger."

Y/n stopped in her tracks just as he was about to enter the potions classroom. She was about to show the teacher a part of her project, wanting to consult the texts she has written. Instead, she stopped and decided to listen to the conversation.

"Ah, she's one of the best students in her year," Slughorn said proudly, "but I assure you - she wouldn't do that to you."

"How can you be sure, professor?"

"Well, could you describe your symptoms, Theodore?"

"Whatever I do, Y/n is on my mind," the boy admitted, "I can't eat, I can't sleep, I zone out thinking about her. It's not normal, I've never experienced it before."

The teacher gave his student a sympathetic smile. "My dear boy, you might be experiencing the actual feeling of being in love."

"What? And how could it have been caused? Was it a love potion, after all? Maybe a spell?"

"It's a part of muggle science, biology. The chemicals in your brain cause it and it's not something you can control. It happens when it happens. A truly beautiful feeling."

Theo's mouth twisted into a dissatisfied grimace. "Is there anything I can do about it?"

"You can talk to the girl about it, for example," Slughorn looked at the door and shouted, "come in, Y/n!"

Y/n cursed to herself in her thoughts. How could he know she was there?

The girl walked in shyly, holding a paper in her hands. "I wanted to show you my paper, professor," the girl spoke, "if there's anything you think I should change or... anything."

As the girl handed the paper to the teacher, she looked at Theo. They stood dangerously close to each other. The silence between the was so loud, Y/n was praying for the teacher to say something. Anything.

"Amazing, Mrs Granger," he spoke eventually, "although the Draught of Living Dead is an extremely difficult potion to make. I'm glad you're so ambitious, but I'd suggest you get help from someone more experienced."

"I'm pretty sure I can do it on my own." Y/n assured.

"Maybe Mr. Nott here could help you. The sixth year has been just learning about this potion, actually. Theodore, would you be so kind and help Mrs Granger?"

Suddenly, Theo's gaze somewhat softened. There was no more disgust in his eyes. When he stood so close to Y/n, he wondered why did he act the way he did. Why did he do all the mean things to her. Maybe he had always liked her, but didn't want to admit it, even to himself alone.

"Yes, sure," he said, "I can help."

Y/n felt happy. For some reason, she didn't dislike Theo for all the things he did. She secretly always liked him, he was attractive, and she would even sometimes daydream about the day he would finally talk to her like a normal person. Maybe the day has finally come.

#theo nott #theodore nott #slytherin boys #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfic #theo nott fanfic

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psychedelic-ink · 9 months

Text

'𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐰.

pairing: contractor!joel miller x f!reader

genre: no outbreak au, modern au, explicit smut, minors dni

word count: 3k

summary: joel is used to asshole clients, and when one of them calls him an old man and basically demands him to finish his girlfriend's kitchen in time, he expects you to be the same. But you're the opposite. when he learns how you've been treated, he comes up with a plan to get back at your boyfriend.

warnings: hints of reader being in a toxic relationship, age gap, daddy kink, piv, dirty talk , revenge sex and filming it, infidelity (reader cheating on her bf), praise kink

a/n: This was completely spontaneous, normally I was going to finish one of the haunted hoedown entries but I saw a ✨ s p i c y ✨ video and instantly got up to write this because that video was something else I tell you. Sucks that they don't credit those things on twitter so I can find more of the guy he was also older hence the age gap fgbgfbf

thank you to @johnwatsn for beta'ing this (and sorry for all the typos lmaodfbfg) and thank you to @pedrorascal for the stunning gif 💜

“I’m not paying extra if you do overtime, old man. You said a week and you’ll finish in a week. I don’t care if your knees hurt or you have a heart attack in the middle of hammering a nail—you finish my girlfriend’s kitchen in time. Got it?”

Joel had a lot of unpleasant customers. John was just one of many but his comment had stuck with him. And it wasn’t the rude comments or the tone that basically told Joel that John thought of him as dog shit; no, it was none of that. It was the old man that had bugged him. The hissed comment of his age slithering under his skin and agitating his body.

Joel knew that it only bothered him because it was true. He was an old man. His daughter in her last year of college, doing her absolute best and growing while he was getting old. His skin creasing at the eyes every time he laughed and his hair more salt than pepper.

The thoughts continuing to swirl in his head, with a sigh, he knocks on the door of John’s girlfriend, expecting a woman as equally as unpleasant and demanding.

You’re far from what he expected. Your smile is bright, your eyes kind and lips looking soft and shiny. Joel has trouble gathering himself when you extend a hand, not a care in the world. His eyes drop to where your sweetheart neckline pushes your breasts together, slightly spilling over the fabric. His mouth goes dry, cock twitching under the denim.

Guess some parts of him didn’t get the memo that he was an old man now.

“Joel, right?” you ask, voice unsure and timid. Your eyes gradually take in the height of him, moving to explore the broadness of his shoulders and stopping at his eyes. “John mentioned you.”

Joel’s stomach suddenly turns sour, it’s enough for him to snap out of the sudden lustful gaze he found himself in. He grabs your hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “That’s right. Joel Miller at your service, ma’am.”

He might be imagining it, but he swears your breath hitches just a little when he takes your hand.

“How chivalrous,” you smile and move to the side. “Come on in, Mr. Miller.”

“Joel is just fine,” he grunts, reminded of the old-age comment. How young were you, he wonders. Late twenties, early thirties? He has no idea. He’s also not sure if he wants to know.

You close the door behind him and nod, “Alright then Joel,” you step in front of him, walking towards what he assumes is the kitchen. Joel dutifully follows. “I’m sure John told you about what needs to be done, so hopefully you don’t have any questions.”

He raises an eyebrow at that, confusion swirling in his expression. You don’t turn to look at him, entering the kitchen, you continue, “I had something else in mind originally but he told me to trust him so... I guess that’s what I’m doing now.”

“That don’t sound right,” Joel mumbles. He gives the area a once over, he sees a lot of pink, clean, and polished furniture. The windows are large, allowing the sun to bathe everything within. He vaguely remembers John mentioning a dark, minimalist look but he wasn’t really listening at the time. “Isn’t this your kitchen?”

Your shoulders raise at his question and you finally turn to face him, kind eyes now tainted with a hint of sadness, “It’s going to be our kitchen soon. He probably thinks it’s too girly.”

“That’s no reason to leave you out of the design process,” Joel answers, taking a step closer. You smile helplessly with a shrug, your eyes dropping to his lips before averting them. His pulse races, something wicked forming in his head. He stops an inch away from you, a mere breeze would’ve been enough for your bodies to touch but he keeps still and so do you. You’re flustered, he can tell. “You wanna tell me what you had in mind?”

Your eyes briefly go wide, something like shame crossing your face but the expression is quickly replaced by understanding, “Oh the design,” you murmur, voice barely a whisper. “I honestly would’ve loved some more counter room since I love to bake.”

“Well, you’re in luck darlin’ because I don’t remember much of the details your boyfriend gave me,” he smiles when your brows furrow with confusion. “Meanin’ you have to lead me with the design.”

He swears your smile is the brightest damn thing he’s seen in a long while.

It’s the last day of the constructions in your kitchen but you’re not thinking of the new kitchen counter or the new cupboard, all you’re thinking of is Joel’s proposition, and how you were soaked with just the mere thought of it.

You and Joel had grown close during the time he fixed up your kitchen. Surprisingly, you actually went with the design you initially wanted and not the one John had in mind. You knew it would lead to a fight and some part of you was glad—John was meant to be perfect but it was only on paper. He was a dream boat when in public and amongst friends, but alone? Not a chance. He belittled you, hated almost all your hobbies and always made unnecessary comments on what you looked like.

Despite yourself, you had blabbed all of that to Joel. He made you feel safe, and the fact that he was very pleasant to look at helped. He didn’t say much but you could tell that he was livid, which secretly made you pleased. It was good to see that how John treated you wasn’t actually the norm.

You loved watching him work. The way sweat would slide all the way down to his neck and how his muscles would tense, straining the fabric of his shirt.

He told you about how John had treated him, confessed he thought you would be the same. Your insides had boiled with anger. You apologized profusely and he just shook it off, saying it wasn’t your fault.

Then the kiss had happened.

It had happened on a particularly bad day. You were upset, filled with negative emotions to the brim and all you wanted was unconditional comfort. You kissed him, he didn’t stop you until your hand reached for his belt.

“I wanna show that asshole how amazin’ you are,” he had said. “Will you let me?”

At the time you hadn’t known what he meant by that.

But now you do.

“Look into the camera, sweetheart,” he murmurs, mouth pressed against your ear. You shudder, your bare body feeling good against his, like you were made for him. Your pussy throbs and drools all over his cock that slides agonizingly slow between your folds. You try to do as he says but it’s just too hard when your eyes are constantly on the brink of rolling back into your skull. He drags his lips down your neck as his large hands knead your breasts, your nipples achingly hard. “Don’t make me say it again, honey. Don’t make me be mean when you’re such a good girl.”

“Oh, fuck—” your body shudders, lashes fluttering as you stare right into the camera with a lost expression. You see yourself, Joel right behind you. You don’t know how but he looks even taller while his body splays over yours, bending you over. He presses his palm over your forehead, forcing the arch of your back. Your inner thighs are soaked, his cock moving between your legs. You see the flash of the glistening head every time he rocks himself forward.

He looks into the camera and your entire body clenches with want, “Look at that,” he hums, laving your neck in open-mouthed wet kisses. “Your girlfriend already going stupid with my cock. Not so bad for an old man huh?”

Joel’s lips stretch menacingly, eyes shining with amusement. Letting go of your forehead, he pushes both your tits closer to the camera, thumbs moving over the pebbled flesh. You moan loudly and your legs quiver.

“Sweet thing over here tells me you don’t let her ride you—I thought you were a dumbass before but now I think you’re a downright moron. Fuckin’ hell, who wouldn’t want such an eager thing jumpin’ up and down his cock.”

You whimper, eyes going teary. Your heart races wildly in your chest. “J—Joel, please. . .”

“Hear that, John,” he growls, the tremble of each word reverberating into your skin. “She’s beggin’ for my cock. Ain’t that right, darlin’?”

You nod but it’s not enough for him, not enough for Joel. “Don’t be shy now, tell him. He ever got you this wet?”

“N-No,” you breathe out and maniacally shake your head. “N-Never.”

“Poor thing,” he clicks his tongue. “Poor poor thing. Don’t worry, daddy’s got you now. Doesn’t he?”

“Yes,” you slur, pushing back your hips. “Fuck me, fuck me—Fuck me, daddy, please.”

“Say it again,” his teeth sink into your skin. “One more and I’ll fuck you.”

“Daddy,” you moan, eyes rolling back. “Daddy, need you, need your cock. Fuck me, please.”

He hums in satisfaction, “Well, since you asked so darn nicely,” Joel kisses your temple and his lips move over your skin as he speaks to the camera, “Looks like she’s my girl now, my good girl.”

When he buries himself into you, inch by inch, your jaw goes slack and your nipples go tight. You forget about the camera, about John who’ll see this. You only think of him. He stretches you to your very limit, his cock thick and hard. It takes you everything not to move your hips. You want Joel to tell you what to do. You want him to fuck you so good that your mind will go blank as you start bouncing on his cock. His one hand grips your waist firmly as the other remains underneath your breast, the sensitive flesh spilling over his hand while holding you.

“How does it feel?” he murmurs into your ear, his cruel teasing from earlier gone.

“Good,” you whimper, squeezing him tight. “So fucking good, the biggest I’ve ever had.”

“Fuck, darlin’,” he kisses the skin behind your ear. “Such a filthy mouth on such an innocent lookin’ girl. You were wasted on that jackass.”

He knocks the air from your lungs before you can answer. The drag of his cock like lightning searing your skin. He fucks you hard, almost angrily, but you know it’s not directed at you. Never at you. The smack of his balls against your ass fills the bedroom, and you’re positive the phone is recording every wet, filthy sound. It doesn’t take much for Joel to reduce you into a withering mess, every word forgotten, his hips relentless as he fucks deeper and deeper into you.

Then suddenly you’re tilting back, his arm an anchor around your stomach as you find yourself between his thighs sitting on his lap. Your eyes move to the screen, you look perfect between his legs, the muscles tensing and flexing as he grinds his hips. Your skin pleasantly burns.

“Come on, sweetheart, show him what he’s been missin’ out on.”

Joel leans back, palm planted firmly on your mattress with pretty pink flowers that John hates.

Your body takes control, your brain swimming in a fog of lust and pleasure. You grip his thick thighs, bracing yourself, you begin to move up and down his cock. He fills you beautifully. His gaze is fixed on the tiny camera, staring directly into it as you try your best to please him. Arousal coils tight in your stomach. Your breasts sway with your every move, your body coating him in shiny slick.

“A throne for a princess,” he groans, eyes moving from the camera to your reflection on the screen. Fire burns down your spine. His gaze and presence alone choking the air from your lungs. You twist yourself to get a better look at him, catching his gaze momentarily, you moan wantonly at the sight. Him only sitting, relaxed while you’re breaking down sends jolts of electricity up and down your spine. You sit wholly, grinding down while keeping his cock buried deep inside, searching for that devastating spot inside you.

The world around you becomes a bright white when you do.

Your ears start ringing, and you begin to shake, legs clamp together as you shudder around the length of him. A choked sound between laughter and bewilderment tears from your throat. Your body moves of its own accord now, helplessly bouncing on his cock, the bulbous head grazing against a certain spot that just makes you want more and more and more—

“Yes yes yes yes,” you chant. Joel’s head disappears from view everytime you move up. You hear his moans, they become louder and louder, his southern drawl becoming prominent the more fucked out he gets.

His sounds only spur you on, making you ride him harder, sweat beading at your tailbone. Your pussy swallows him hungrily, every inch of him without protest. While you’re absolutely lost on his cock, you notice him tilting his head so he’s in view again. You hold your breath. His mouth parts, the tip of his tongue touching the corner of his lips, he gives the camera a taunting look. Joel’s expression turns into a half smile and he wraps his arms around you. One going over right above your breasts and the other around your stomach. His hand cups the side of your neck. He drags his mouth down and up your cheek.

“Come on, pretty girl,” he rasps, kissing you. You look to the camera, hips slowing but not stopping. “Yes, pretty girl, just like that,” another kiss. “Look at that pretty girl getting fucked.”

Joel squeezes your breast as his arm comes down, both of them now tight around your stomach. You feel him pulsing deep inside you. His voice is thick with arousal. “Look how beautiful you are on my dick. Don’t you agree, sweetheart?”

You nod and grind against him, loving how deep he feels. He kisses your neck, tongue tracing shapes into your skin as both his hands come up to your tits and squeezes them, the plump flesh spilling from between his knuckles. His lips move down your shoulder and back up your neck, following the same path over and over again, decorating it with slow kisses.

Joel gives the camera one last look before disappearing behind you, fingers sprawled over your stomach and down between your legs. You feel the rough hairs between your shoulder blades first, then the softness of his lips follows through. Your eyes flutter closed and your head falls back, his mouth is so goddamn soft, the skin tingling and burning at the same time.

His hips snap up, and with the sudden movement, a fresh wave of wetness coats his cock. You lean forward, face closer to the camera, while he lays back, watching hungirly at the way your ass moves.

“Yeah, just like that,” he groans, smacking both your asscheeks simultaneously.

Then before you know it he’s moving, pressing you fully over the table in front of you, the phone shaking as he begins to hammer into you. You can’t even see what you look like anymore, your head dropping, you cry out his name. If it wasn’t for his hands on your hips, you would’ve collapsed to the ground.

“That’s it, come on my cock,” he nips at your shoulders. “Fuck, you’re so fucking wet—can you hear that? Can you hear how fuckin’ soaked your girlfriend is on an old man’s cock?”

It takes you a second to realize he’s not talking to you, but the camera. You flutter around him, squeezing him tight enough that he moans, hips slowing. “Daddy,” you gasp. And with that, you finally let go, cunt gushing around him, coating him with slick. Joel peppers your back with soft, quick kisses, whispering praise between every kiss.

“That’s it, sweetheart, bet you never came that hard before. Good girl—my good fuckin’ girl, wettin’ my cock so well.”

You tighten and gush around him a second time, you swear by how hard you’re clenching your insides most likely have taken the shape of him.

“Where do you want me?” he whispers into your skin. Words coming muffled and hoarse, dripping slow like molasses. You push back against him, looking into the camera with a small smile.

“Inside me, daddy, please.”

“Oh shit—” he picks up the pace, the thrust of his hips sloppy and needy. “Shit shit shit—so fuckin’ perfect, so good for allowin’ this old man to wreck her good—So good for tellin’ me to fill her up—fuck—”

You’re blindsided by how honest he suddenly is, the rasp of his voice going straight between your legs. His hips stutter and Joel comes with a loud, thick moan, spilling into you. You moan right alongside him. He continues to rock into you with shallow thrusts, laying kisses on every patch of skin his lips can reach.

While you’re lost in complete bliss, he reaches around you and grabs the phone, stopping the recording before collapsing back to the bed, pulling you along with him.

“You feel so good,” he says, cock softening inside. You feel his come trickling down from between your thighs and shiver.

“You feel good too,” you say, wrapping your arms around him and covering his lips with your own. “I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard.”

“Guess this old man still has some tricks up his sleeve,” he chuckles weakly and you press another kiss, this time on his cheek. “We don’t have to by the way.”

“Don’t have to what?”

“Send the video.”

You stare at the phone for a second, brows furrowed as you think. Then with a quick shrug, you turn back to him. “Nah, let him see it. I could’ve forgiven how he treated me but not you.”

He clicks his tongue with disapproval, “You shouldn’t forgive him for how he treated you either, darlin’. You deserve better.”

“Well, I guess you’re just going to have to prove it me then,” you smile and with a sudden impulse, boop his nose. He laughs, nipping the pad of your finger.

“I guess I will.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #tw daddy kink #tlou fanfic #the last fo us fanfiction #hbo tlou fanfic #hbo the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfic

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praeluxius · 7 days

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Newjeans Hanni smut (M reader) - the title is a hint to the TW.

6.6k words

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It didn't happen through a cliché.

Well, maybe it did, but not one of those where she's stuck head-first into some kitchen appliance or something of that ilk, though you would say this really did happen by accident.

What? She tripped, fell, landed on your dick?

Not quite like that, but the point still stands. You didn't begin that day, or even that evening, intending to fuck your step-sister, but, well…

"My apartment. My TV. My choice," you told her, as you have so many times before.

"But this film is supposed to be the best. It's got great reviews. Dani loved it..." Hanni was talking far too fast to even really pay attention. She soon started reeling off a cast list and everyone involved, and how this review called it a revelation to the genre, but you had long since started ignoring her. You know how she gets. Excitable beyond the point that someone normally would be. It's an endearing trait, if not also annoying. The rundown of her reasons was cut short as she threw her body at you in attack.

"Hanni! What are you—"

"Just gimme the controller already!" She shouted right into your ear as she threw her arms over your shoulders. You held it out in front of you, keeping her behind your back so her arms couldn't reach; not that it stopped her from trying. "Just one time. Please? Pretty pretty please?"

You climbed up from the sofa. Hanni clung to your back like a young panda, with her legs locked tight around your waist and her arms still fumbling around. You grabbed her by the ankle, trying to pry it away so you could drop her, or something, anything other than letting her continue. "Alright fine. Just let go, you idiot. You’re going to tear my arm off."

She loosened her hold, just enough for you to swing her around; one arm and leg slipping free so you could throw her onto the couch. In your flailing she managed to take the TV remote with her, but the moment of peace, of silence, of satisfaction in hearing your idiot sister bounce against the cushions before breaking into a laugh and asking, "what the hell was that for?"

"What did I ever do to deserve the step-sister from hell?" You said as you flopped down at the opposite end of the couch.

"Have a mother hot enough that my dad wanted to fu—"

"You're sick." You cut her off before she finished. She smirked, lifting her sock-clad feet onto the sofa and settling in for movie night. She brought her knees up below her chin and started flicking through the options on the screen to find the one she wanted. Her eyes were wide in her stare, her lower lip bitten. It was pretty much the last time you ever looked at her in this innocent way again.

It was another one of those shitty horror flicks. The kind that didn't even slightly live up to the billing she gave it before. This, however, was Hanni's thing—whenever she convinced you, or otherwise, to finally give up control of your TV, she would put on one of these cheap horror movies and spend the whole night tucked behind a cushion.

As much as you tried for it not to be, it's become something of a ritual, pretty much any night that she was at home, and not unbelievably tired from being overworked and didn't have to be up at the break of dawn.

It's your acceptance of things like that which really showed how much the two of you had grown. You remember fighting for your life against your mother and stepfather to not have to take her in. Convinced that if she wanted to move into the city so badly, she could get her own place, or go to one of those company dorms. Ultimately, you were made to see reason. Your apartment is close to her company, and you had a spare room, after all.

Not that she ever stopped annoying you beyond belief.

The movie, if you could call it that, had you fall into a slumber, and when you woke up Hanni had crawled across the length of the couch and was laid against you, her arms wrapping one of your own. She didn't even realise you had woken up, staring as the credits rolled with a slight, peaceful smile on her face.

She had tied her hair up by now into a ponytail, pulling the hair away from her mostly bare shoulder, where the thin strap of her cropped pyjama top rested. As you peeked down at her, your eyes accidentally fell on the space down her top. It wasn't your fault; they were just right there.

"Shit..." you muttered, catching Hanni's attention.

"Still alive there?" She chuckled a little as she gently patted her palm against your cheek. You feigned a yawn and shut your eyes, settling your head against the pillow once more.

"Hanni, put something else on. This movie is dumb."

"You fell asleep after like ten minutes."

"Yeah, and it seems it didn't take long for you to use me as a body pillow."

Hanni pursed her lips. A red flush ran through her cheeks, and then she quickly sat up. You were watching her the whole time through half-open eyes, chuckling under your breath at her reaction.

"You're an idiot," she says. "Always have been."

You shrugged in reply, "And you're easy to tease, always will be."

"Asshole." She kicked at you.

She tried to kick again, and you caught her foot. You held her bare leg in the air and then lightly kicked her back, hitting her thigh.

"Let go! I'll kick you again. Asshole!" She shouted at you, again and again, struggling to break her foot free from your hand. When you finally let her go, all her struggles made her stumble off the couch. As she went, you kicked out again, this time catching her right on the ass. "Ah! Fuck be careful you hit my plu—" She brought her hands right to her mouth when she realised what she was saying.

"Your what?" You asked.

Hanni cleared her throat, blushing to the point of matching the colour of her red short shorts. "Nothing."

She turned away from you. Just standing there. There's a part of you that wishes that you could go back to this moment. You would have left it there and gone to bed—never kicking her a third time.

But you did it.

Your foot flicked gently against her ass a final time and you felt it. Something hard tucked between the softness of her cheeks. She yelped again. You pinpoint this moment as the catalyst for everything that followed. It’s the part where her innocent image crumbled before your eyes and that’s what allowed you to do what you did. Though really, can you ever be sure that if it didn’t happen now, it wouldn’t have just happened the next day, or next week, or a few months down the line? You tell yourself it was inevitable.

"Is that what I think it is?"

She spun around, facing you once more, trying to muster something. She stumbled over and stuttered her words. "No! I... it's not mine. Minji loaned me one for... just to try... it's not." She held the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. "This is... oh, god. This is so embarrassing."

Hanni slumped back onto the sofa and pressed a cushion tight against her face. "Why'd you loan it?" You ask her, only to see her tighten her grip.

"Because."

"Because what?" You sat up by her side and said something that at the time you thought would make it better, but looking back, probably came off rather creepy. "I clean your room, Hanni. I have seen worse things."

Hanni slowly dropped the cushion into her lap and looked at you with a glare. "The fuck?"

"And if you're going to use my laptop, try deleting the history." At this point, you were just piling on the embarrassment.

"Fuck! Oh my God, what did you see?" She threw the cushion into your face.

You picked it out of the air. "Nothing." You lied.

"Bullshit!" Hanni swore. "Did you see everything?"

"Nothing at all..." you said sarcastically while standing up. "I definitely didn't see all the step-brother porn you were binging last week."

She screamed and jumped up. You threw the pillow to stop her and stepped out of reach. "I hate you! You freak!" she shouted, cheeks burning red as the fury rose within her.

"Says the chick wearing a buttplug." You taunted her again as you darted across the room away from her.

"What happened to boundaries!?" She lunged at you again, and you quickly sidestepped her.

She tried jumping at you once more and missed, only to strike her knee against the corner of the coffee table. She hopped back on one leg with the pain.

"You're an asshole, you know that!?" she shouted, holding onto her knee. You stepped closer, thinking she was really hurt. Until she used the chance to lunge at you and grab you. "What's wrong with a girl enjoying some fantasy? Not like I want to actually fuck you."

You realise now that the proper thing to do would have been to match her disgust. Tell her something along the lines of how the thought repulses you. Continued to tease her about how fucked it is that she would even look at that sort of stuff. The whole thing could have dissolved, but it's when she had hold of you, hammering her fist into your arm, that you said, "don't you?"

Then the long silence ensued. The one that said a hundred unspoken words. As her punches turned into light taps and then to her just holding onto your upper arm. She looked up at you with her pretty eyes open wide. Her lips parted slightly and the tip of her tongue rested on the bottom one as if she had something to say, but the words wouldn't come.

That's the first time you kissed her. Your own step-sister, a girl who should be off-limits in every conceivable way. Yet she opened her mouth and accepted you in that moment. The taste was so sickly sweet.

It was brief, but it told you everything you needed to know, and everything seemed to spiral from there.

First, there was the confusion. The immediate aftermath where you both let go of each other to turn away. Your backs turned on one another as the awkwardness reached its peak. Neither of you was willing to confess the enjoyment of that little exchange.

Then came the passing of the blame. First, it was Hanni who turned to you with a "What the fuck are you doing?"

And you replied with "Me!? You're the one who kissed me!"

She scoffed and shouted a response, "That was all you! Stop being such a perv, freak!" Hanni stomped past you towards her room, face half-full of anger and topped off with shame.

"I'm the perv? You're the one who I hear moan through the walls while, apparently, watching step-brother porn! I think that makes you the messed up one!” you called after her.

A pause. The hesitation. The possibility of confession. She reached her door, and it flew open. In she walked before slamming it closed with a, "you're sick!"

You stared at the door and vainly said under your breath, "you're the sick one." In your head you had realised the real truth to that; how maybe you're both sick because, as the dust settled, you can only think about a handful of things.

The kiss. Her ass. Her cute little tits.

You didn't see her again for the rest of the evening. She reserved herself to her room, while you resigned to the couch with nothing but the television keeping you company.

It had been a long time since you had a shouting match like that with Hanni. See, it used to happen all the time when she first moved in. The problem with a girl like her whose whole world revolves around singing, dancing, media training and beauty is that she lacks any sense of what it's like to be an independent adult. It seemed like the fights would never end, on account of her being seemingly incapable of washing a dish, her clothes or even cooking the most simple of things without burning it or setting something on fire.

But this? This is uncharted territory.

The night wound down, and you were headed to bed, but you found yourself outside her door. Your hand raised, ready to knock. Your breath held. Right when you finally built enough courage is when you heard it. Heard her. Moans muffled through the wood of her door. Your stomach knotted. Your groin twitches.

You lingered, unable to tear yourself away. Even as your logical side began arguing with you that you were in the wrong. That you're probably the worst sort of pervert imaginable and you should feel nothing but guilt.

The other voice, the more confident one; the devil on your shoulder told you that it's Hanni's fault. You had just warned her, and this is what she did in response, like it’s all some sort of game. You refused to admit to yourself that hearing her groaning, whimpering, and moaning through the wall influenced you—tempted you.

Louder and louder. Her voice raised higher, getting to the point where you knew she was practically screaming in the throes of pleasure. Harder and harder you grew. The rational side of you was saying that you should ignore it. Just go to sleep. Forget about it.

"Fuck!" she moaned, and you remained, listening through the door—lost in imagination.

Then you heard footsteps. Bare feet patting on wooden flooring coming closer and closer towards the door. A rush to retreat and you slipped toward your bedroom door. You barely reach the handle before the door across the hall opens.

There was a moment. The two of you locked eyes. Every fibre in your being fought against looking down.

"What?" she asked with a stone-cold expression.

"Nothing." You said, and your willpower broke. You glanced down. Completely naked, she stands at the door, her nipples peaked to fine little tips. And your gaze drifted down her soft curves and slender figure, her wide hips and full thighs.

"Nothing," she mocks.

Her eyes glanced down for a second, then back to your face, and her gaze narrowed. You panicked, dipped into your room and slammed the door just like she did earlier. You press your back to it, the cool wood against your burning body. Your mind raced.

Her feet slapped again against the wooden floor and headed toward the bathroom. That should have been that. You slipped into your bed, frustrated and confused. The sound of the shower running quickly drifted through the walls, but her cries from earlier replayed in your mind until you fell asleep.

That should have been that.

You woke to the darkness of the room—not the morning sunshine—sometime later. Half in a haze, not quite conscious yet, but something had roused you from your slumber: a movement under the sheets and a strange sensation. Warm and damp. Your eyes flicked open, adjusting to the darkness. Your hands jerked reflexively toward your groin and then your senses sharpened.

Someone between your legs. A warm and wet something sliding up and down the shaft of your hardness. Tongue? Yeah, a tongue. Your fingers reached and buried themself into hair. Stomach muscles spasmed as your hips thrust up on their own. Your lips parted as you moaned, "Fuck."

You glanced down.

Hanni.

Naked.

The tip of your cock at her mouth, lips pursed around it. Her smiling eyes sparkled and her skin glimmered, bathed in moonlight coming through the open curtains. Hanni giggled when your eyes met. Your hand dropped to her shoulder.

"Hanni..." Your throat choked dry, and you pushed at her shoulder.

"Shhh." The word whispered against your sensitive tip.

"What the hell are you..." You tried to ask, but Hanni shook her head before sucking in a breath. Then she drew the length of your cock into her warm, wet mouth and the question escaped you. "Holy shit," you gasped.

"This can be our dirty little secret," she said when she lifted her head, fingers stroking you. "We can pretend it didn’t happen in the morning, but for the rest of the night," her finger tickled down the underside of your cock as she spoke, "it can be as real as you want it to be."

You remember being convinced that it was a dream. Maybe one that you would wake up from with a mess in your shorts and, honestly, that probably would have been bad enough—having a wet dream about your step-sister. Reality intruded and threatened to drag you back from your delusion. Hanni took you into her mouth again and it was so very real.

There was no doubting the pleasure, and it was too good to make her stop. You took your hand away from her shoulder, allowing her to do as she pleased. Maybe if it was just a dream, you could allow yourself to indulge in the madness just one time…

"Fucking hell, Hanni." The words slipped from you, and with it, her warm mouth left your throbbing cock.

You peered down at her. She wiped the drool from the sides of her lips and smiled at you. Her eyes were wide as she lowered her head and slipped your dick into her warm mouth once more. Your body jolted as she put her tongue to work. She swirled the tip along the contours and ridges, then licked down the underside of the shaft and then right back up the top, leaving a thin film of saliva on your hardness.

She clasped her hand around you and it all felt far too real. Mixed emotions. There was a cold sense of terror in your heart, even with the heat of arousal radiating all over. The things she did with her lips and her tongue made you doubt your sanity.

"Does that feel good?" She said as she took a quick pause, stroking her hand along the full length. She had just caught her breath in the one moment where she stopped sucking, the first chance where her mouth wasn't busy trying to draw the soul out of you through the tip of your cock.

"You were right." She spoke almost as quickly as your mind spun. "About... the step-brother thing. It feels sick, and gross, and... wrong. It makes me feel dirty." Hanni pauses for a second, seemingly running her eyes over your body and then asks, "how depraved does it make me that it gets me really, really horny?"

Hanni had no clue that the same thoughts filled the back of your mind. Only that you weren't able to string it into words like she did. She was right. It felt really wrong, and yet there was a rush to do something that should never be done. This was where the next step began. The breaking of the boundaries. The perverse excitement in the face of the taboo.

Her hand reached out behind her and pulled back the sheets that covered her body. She was crouched between your spread legs, head still by your cock, her soft ass in the air. The cool light from the moon kissed her skin as she slowly slipped her fingers between her plump cheeks. "And this only made it worse. I've been so horny ever since I started wearing it."

Her hand moved slightly, just out of view behind her, and she let out a breathy moan.

"Hanni. What're you—

You're interrupted. "It hurt a little at first. Just a bit but you get used to it, and if it's in a good spot, if you hit it right..." She kept touching herself in front of you, and another breathy gasp escaped her lips and then she looked up at you still lying there. "What are you waiting for? Isn't this what you want?"

That's when you stirred. Reciprocated. You sat up and she rose to meet you. In seconds, you were embracing. Frenzied. Wild. All teeth and tongues and roaming hands. Shorter than you. So much smaller. She let out a yelp when you grabbed her, though she instantly silenced it by shoving her tongue back in your mouth and kissing you deeply.

Pressed against your bare chest, her breasts felt small but supple, perfect little handfuls. Her waist is slender beneath your grasp. The thick flesh of her thighs was so full and shapely. When she opened her eyes, they had such want. Lust—pure and undeniable.

So close, and the faint whimpers at her throat are a seduction. You felt it was an invitation, and your lips kissed her chin, trailing kisses down her neck. "Yes. Yes. Yes..." she encouraged you lower. Your tongue tasted the saltiness of her skin, teeth grazing and then pinching softly. Her arms were tight around your head, nails biting into the base of your neck.

She trembled at your every caress, shook each time you teased a pert nipple. Gasped louder each time you nibbled her collarbone. You turned, lifting her, and then she fell back and presented herself to you. Her legs splayed open and her bare, wet cunt dripping, begging you to take it, but...

"No," you told yourself, "it's too fast," and you began a line of kisses down her stomach, beginning at her cleavage and trailing straight down her stomach. The muscles beneath her pale skin twitched and clenched in response and her breath had gone erratic. You reached her belly button and she hooked her legs over your shoulder, and when you dipped further she clenched her thighs and squeezed as you toyed with her.

You remember savouring the moment. Savouring the pleasure, savouring the veniality.

"Lower, please," she begged in the most needy voice. "Please, I... fuck, oh, fuck please..."

It's hard to describe it all.

Somehow, in the night, you both reached a state of understanding. A state of consensual debauchery that came with a sense of agreement; a pact signed with tongue on skin in this moment of depravity.

You kissed her, playfully moving between her legs. Thigh to thigh, to dangerously close to her wet core, and there you lingered. The air grew humid. Hanni's sweet scent filled your nose. You ran your hands up her legs and felt the warmth in your palms. She gripped onto the hair at the top of your head; her fists tightened.

"Why're you teasing me, asshole?"

Hanni's moans grew louder and more needy when you used your tongue against her. Her legs wrapped tight, hooking behind your back. There was something satisfying about her reactions to your actions, something exciting about seeing her squirm.

The tip of your tongue ran up the lips of her cunt, dipping between the fleshy folds and coming to suck upon her swollen clit. Her eyes widened at the touch, and her jaw slacked to the point her words went incoherent. Her whole body spasmed as she arched and moaned out something filthy.

One moment you had hold of her thigh, feeling her clench up and quiver, the next you found that your fingers had moved downward and pressed against her slick opening. At the slight touch of your fingertips to the tenderness there, a short cry slipped out of her again. She tightened and clenched around them as you pushed in deeper.

"Who's teasing?" you asked before you buried yourself to the knuckles in her.

A smirk formed, and Hanni was about to speak, but no words came. You pumped her at a steady pace, curling your digits within her while lapping at her clit. The taste of sin never tasted so sweet.

The combination drove her insane, and it didn’t take long until you were on the verge of making your step-sister cum.

You wrapped your lips around that swollen nub of hers and flicked it with the tip of your tongue, faster and harder, until her many moans became one, long, drawn-out and passionate, as a climax rocked through her.

Her ass lifted off the bed and her legs quivered, shaking uncontrollably while her fingers tugged painfully at the hairs on the back of your head. She jerked and gasped with a look of ecstasy on her face as she moaned your name over and over, almost reaching a scream. Your name on her lips again, and again, and you were drunk on this euphoria.

She released your head, and you postured over her, still slipping a pair of fingers into her, but slower. She drew a deep, trembling sigh and forced a smile, watching you. "I hate you," she managed.

"Do you?" you asked as you drew your cum-soaked fingers out of her. Her legs rested on your hips and the underside of your stiff cock was against her pussy. You reached around her hip, to her ass, to the plug still sat between her cheeks. Hanni hissed at your touch, biting her lip at the sensation.

"Yes. I hate you," Hanni whimpered, giving the softest moans as you tugged on the metal. Her eyelids fluttered.

"Why?" you asked.

"I just do," Hanni weakly gasped, struggling to stay strong in the moment. "You make me feel things. Things I shouldn't feel. It shouldn't be this easy."

"In that case. I hate you too, sis'."

There was this moment after you said that, where you shared a stare. Maybe the most confusing stare of your life. Calling her sis', in this position, should have been horrifying. And it was, but only at a peripheral level. Otherwise, it felt surprisingly... hot.

You dipped into her for another kiss, and this one seemed ever more ravenous than the last. You kissed with hunger and her hand ran around the back of your head. Kissed as lovers would. She was just as aroused as you and eager for more.

Slow and soft, you rocked yourself against her wetness. Your length dragged between her lips, up over her clit, and down again to poke at her entrance. You moved over and over, enjoying the tease.

The slow, sticky friction between the two of you. Her breath was sharp, as you slipped yourself over her and kissed at her neck. Every rock of your hips, she ground back against you.

"I think..." She hesitated. "Fuck. I think I'm ready. Just... go slow?"

The guilt of what's happened was a distant thing, a buzzing fly on a summer afternoon. The kind of thing that when you're so enthralled by something else, it becomes invisible. Then, with a nod and a shivering sigh, she reached down and gripped your cock. You bent back from kissing her so she could guide you.

Her tiny cunt. Her beautiful wetness. Her forbidden, decadent treasure.

Her breath was shaky. Her next words came out amid a tremble, "I've never... No one else."

You brushed stray strands of hair out of her face and ran your hand over her cheek. You gave her the reassurance she needed.

She told you, a few weeks later, how grateful she was that it was you. See, for all the filth that ran through her mind on an almost daily basis, she never imagined what it would be like. It being you—who you are and everything you meant to her—made it easy. Natural. Wonderful.

That first time, you took it all so slow. With her legs raised over yours. Watching the subtle changes in expression as you gradually moved more and more of your cock into her. Sinking deep between her pink, delicate walls. Your step-sister, panting and squirming beneath you.

"You okay?" you asked her.

"Ah... yes. This is... I love it," she responded between whining breaths.

It was just enough, the reassurance, so you could push into her the rest of the way. Her hand found its way to your shoulder; bracing as you eased in, her delicate frame tensing as you buried fully.

You watched her reaction and tried to be still as you felt her slick cunt pulse around you, wanting you. She swallowed and gripped you with the muscles within her. The second of respite didn't last long though; you weren't sure if it was a request or accident when her feet tapped against the curve of your ass, but it prompted you to fuck her.

"Feels... fuck." You sucked your breath between your teeth and braced yourself up on a shaky arm. You drew out slowly, and you noticed her nails digging into the arm you supported yourself upon.

You groaned in relief more than anything else as your hips pumped the shallow strokes that sent electricity through your body. She started pushing herself onto you as she clutched your back, drawing her heels over the small of your spine. You looked down to see her eyelids were flickering, and the sight only served to inflame you more. Her moans were so erotic and encouraging.

That first time, it was special. You took your time together to explore each other's bodies, the curves of hips, the muscles, the valleys and ridges. You caressed your stepsister's gorgeous body and then tried your best to put her through another climax, as if your efforts to reach your own were less important.

"Fuck you're so tight," you told her, during those final thrusts, buried to the hilt in her tiny, soft pussy.

She spoke, her voice weak and shuddering, "You're big... inside me..."

The fact that she held you tighter in her embrace and how it seemed that she refused to let you out of her even as she came apart was telling.

She came that night, again, this time all over your cock. The first of many times to come. A string of incomprehensible cries erupted from her in the throes of that first proper fuck. Hanni's thighs flexed around your hips. She clung desperately to your body as she cried into your mouth as she climaxed.

Not long after is when you felt it too, that impending release. A coil of pressure. Unfamiliar and intense. The mere thought of emptying inside her drove you mad. Your fingers dug into her hips as you fucked your step-sister with complete abandon.

"Don't. Not inside. Please, not inside," she murmured in an incoherent mantra of guilt and pleasure, right next to your ear.

You didn't, of course. You drove yourself right to the edge and pulled out. Her juices coated your length, slick and wet as your cock twitched in anticipation of the final moments. Hanni wanted your release as badly as you did. She took you into her hand for the finish, gripping tightly and jerking that first hot shot of cum onto her soft tummy. You thrust through her hand to let the pleasure course through you. Each thrust sent a long rope splattering onto her naked skin as she grinned up at you, flushed and sweaty, covered in your lust.

That was the first night, but definitely not the last.

The next morning arrived with Hanni in your arms—the little spoon. The little naked spoon pressed against your body. Skin to skin. She woke you with the slow rocking motion of her body, grinding her plump cheeks against you.

"I could get used to this," she whispered under her breath, smiling against the crook of your arm. "Good morning," she said to you over her shoulder. "Sleep well? You had some pretty naughty dreams last night, didn't you?"

You responded with your erection growing against the warm crevice of her butt and a gentle hum as her ass rocked over it. That was no dream. "I did," you said groggily. "As naughty as yours."

"Mmmm," is all she had as a response, lost in the pleasant distraction, grinding herself back into you even more. As she did so, you grew harder, until your stiffness pressed against the plug still wedged into her ass. Hanni had left it there overnight. "The thing about dreams is that they're easy to forget. Want to remind me of mine?"

You ran your hand down her thigh, and that's how the second time started. You caressed her flesh for a while, feeling the softness of her thighs while she silently lay there, patiently allowing you to enjoy her.

Then, you grabbed her by the knee, opening her legs and then she spoke, "Are you going to make your step-sister cum again?"

So quickly did she become so utterly shameless. You grunted in reply and then you held her leg up by hooking under the knee, and shuffled down slightly, letting your hard cock slip from between her cheeks and go between her legs.

You closed your eyes and leaned into her. Lips at her shoulders, the kisses soon trailed to her neck. She hummed as you ground your cock between her folds. Not even putting in the effort to try to actually enter her just yet, just teasing your stepsister for the moment.

Her voice filled with the sweet sound of passion.

Your heart began pounding and a flush rose to your cheeks. You could have written that first night off as a mistake. One you would regret, forget and never make again. Not after this. This is a definitive choice. One of sound mind and body, not under the tension of an argument or anything else that happened before.

This is different.

Hanni reached her hand down between her legs, pulling your cock so it would slip into her when you shift your hips. "Fuck me," she begged.

You did. You slipped inside her and heard her moan in such sweet ecstasy. She gripped the pillow she slept on the night before, burying her face in it, and moaning into it in such sweet rapture. "Fuck, yes, harder," Hanni moaned.

When she pushed her hips back onto you, her ass brushed against your belly. The rhythm began. Slow. Lazy thrusts. Enjoying every sensation in the post-sleep haze, savouring the fact that you knew how good she felt on the inside. How incredible her wet, silky, tight depths felt when you slid in and out of them.

"Is this what you wanted?" Your voice is low, near a growl. Your arms around your step-sister. It shouldn't, by all accounts, feel natural to have her like that, but it did.

"Yes, it feels incredible. Please don't stop." Your cock bottomed out within her. As deep as you could go. You groaned, and stayed there for a while, feeling your stepsister clenching down, her inner walls trying to pull you in further.

Hanni's hands gripped at the bedsheets, clutching tightly to them. The position pressed the metal of the plug between her asscheeks, and as your thrusting continued, the sensation sent a tingle through her body. It was a filthy combination. One that allowed every stroke you drove into her cunt to simultaneously send an equally blissful shock straight into her ass.

It was madness for her to indulge in the ecstasy—for both of you to lose yourselves.

You grew faster, and she unwound completely. She grew limp as she reached her climax. She couldn't even grip the bedsheets, or the pillow, her body simply submitting to the pleasure. She merely lay there as your hips battered against her soft ass, fucking her right through it.

Then she asked you, right after it subsided, "Ever fantasised about cumming on my ass before?"

The way she asked that made the question feel almost normal. "That the sort of thing they do in the porn you watch?" You slowed for a bit to deliver the tease.

Hanni couldn't keep the shy smile from creeping across her lips. "There was this one video where a guy put it all over his sister's butt. Seemed like he really liked it."

The fact she talked to you about the dirty things she likes helped it all along. It was the extent of her experience, the videos, but it helped. What it told you about what she really likes, what she enjoys... It became the basis for all your dirty experiments.

"That sounds hot. You have a cute ass."

She giggled to herself, rolling her hips, getting up onto her hands and knees and facing away from you.

You seated yourself onto your calves, giving her space and watching as she turned, giving you the view you craved. "I do?" She said as she glanced back over her shoulder, showing her innocence and naïvete in all its splendour. Her eyes sparkled and then a smile spread over her lips to match that look in her eye.

"The cutest," you told her as you kneeled behind her. One hand caressed the outside of her thigh while the other gripped the base of your cock. Eyes firmly set on that beautiful plump ass. That was the second time in just a few hours that you covered Hanni in your cum.

She watched every second as you did, barely managing a blink. Arousal and delight danced over her features in equal measure, and your name left her tongue in the form of a delightful, drawn-out groan. The effect was very apparent. With every streak and ribbon of white landing, she gasped and moaned while staring at the mess.

From that moment on, you entered regularity. It seemed like for months, every chance the two of you got to fuck, you fucked. Her room. Your room. The shower. The sofa. The kitchen. Against that window that overlooks the city's skyline. A public bathroom. A hand job in the car while you're stuck in traffic. Riding your face in a park, hidden among trees, grass, and bushes. Fucking, kissing, and biting until the both of you are exhausted and sore and dripping with sweat. It never ceased. Two insatiable appetites. Your mutual loss of control continued. The affair felt so exhilarating. An explosion of forbidden sin in an otherwise normal existence.

It all came with its fair share of close calls. That Saturday morning surprise visit from your parents where you answered their knock at the door and they invited themselves in, all while Hanni lies naked in your bedroom. How you sneakily warned her before she emerged and spun the story to them both about how she slept on your floor out of fear after watching another one of her horror movies. They bought it, of course, because they couldn't imagine there being any other explanation.

Then there was Hanni's near miss with her group. She told you all about how Minji had picked up on how something had changed with her; about how convinced Minji was that Hanni had found herself a boyfriend. About the look Minji gave her as Hanni protested, and finally how she got away with a half-truth.

She told the girls it was because of you and how you would work out together on weekends to make her feel better.

Everything was going so well, which made this week even more confusing.

It's been days since you last saw her. The longest you have gone in some time. Long hours and staying over with her members are one thing. Going days with no word or anything at all is another. She ignored your texts, never returned your calls, and stopped showing up at home like you'd come to expect.

No warning.

Nothing.

#hanni smut #newjeans smut #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #male reader #smut #m reader #hanni #hanni pham smut

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notmyneighbor · 1 month

Text

Back Alley - Doppelgänger Francis Mosses x Female Reader

Word Count 5k

Rating Explicit

CW - minor blood/injury, fluff and smut

Also available on AO3

The end of your shift. The quiet part of the evening.

Nestled downtown in the oldest part of the city, the diner you’re employed at as a waitress caters to DDD members and civilians alike. The final patrons have already filed out the front entrance, a pair of glass front doors with shiny chrome handles. You begin the process of closing the establishment for the evening, starting with a final wipe down of all the surfaces in the dining area while the young man that washes dishes works his way through the last batch of soiled utensils and plates and cups. You count the money in the register and gather the receipts, placing everything on the owner’s desk in the tiny office in back of the restaurant.

The adolescent has finished the washing in the kitchen and finds you putting leftover food scraps onto a plate, a snack for the stray cats that dwell in the alley behind the diner. He rocks on his heels, the apron he’d been wearing already removed and now anxiously wrung between his hands. “Did you want me to wait, or…”

You smile softly. “No, that’s alright. I’m just going to set this out and bring out the trash and I’ll be locking up. Go on home. Be safe.”

Needing no further encouragement, the youth darts from the kitchen. You shake your head ruefully, gathering the ends of the plastic bag in the kitchen’s rubbish bin together and knotting them. Balancing trash in one hand and the plate in the other, you manage to open the heavy steel door at the rear of the diner that leads to the alley.

Normally there are several strays to greet you as soon as you open the door, accustomed as they are to this nightly routine.

Tonight it takes you several moments to locate one solitary form after you’ve lobbed the bag into the dumpster and closed the lid, retrieving the plate you’d set by the back door.

You spy one of your usual clients hovering near the stockade fence further down the narrow passageway, a raggedy looking gray tabby with a torn ear that’s normally the friendliest of the bunch.

“Hey there. What’s wrong, you’re not hungry?” You walk forward a couple of steps, crouching down and holding out your empty hand, making little affectionate sounds to lure the animal closer.

In the distance you hear voices shouting. Not uncommon in the city, but you’re still wary as you straighten, leaving the plate on the ground.

The cat, still hunched by the fence, issues a warning growl.

You turn and see a shape moving from the opposite end of the alley where it divides into the main road, the hair on your bare forearms rising, the skin goose pimpling.

You whirl around, already making for the open door at your back, that slice of light inside a beacon that’s frustratingly so close and yet so far.

You don’t quite make it.

A hand reaches the door before you do, slamming it shut. It becomes a wall at your back as you shrink against it, recoiling from whatever just closed it.

No, not whatever. The strays knew what it was. Now you know, too.

A doppelgänger.

This one dressed in the uniform of a milkman, though his outfit had seen better days. Spattered with blood, you cannot find a single patch of the white shirt that doesn’t bear some trace of scarlet droplets. Shouting again in the distance, though this time it sounds closer.

You open your mouth to yell for help and a hand instantly clamps down over it. The doppel is breathing heavily. It must be the DDD pursuing him. Without the light of the diner’s interior, you can’t see much of the creature’s replicated features in the night shrouded alley. You wonder why he hasn’t killed you yet, your heart hammering like mad.

“I’m not going to hurt you. If you help me, I’ll do something for you in return.”

He was trying to bargain? Bad idea. Doppelgängers were notorious liars. By definition of their very existence they had to be masters of deceit. He must have been desperate if he was making this offer. Definitely being chased by the disposal team officers, the likely source of the shouting you’ve been hearing, the details of the situation coming together in your mind.

You can’t imagine a single thing the invader could offer you that you’d desire.

“I’m going to remove my hand. We’re going to go inside. You’re not going to make a sound. Agreed? Nod if you understand me.”

Wide eyed, nostrils flaring, you move your head, signaling your acceptance of his terms. What choice did you have?

The barrier over your mouth lifts and you’re pushed aside, firmly but without malice, the heavy door wrenched open. You’re shoved inside and the door is quickly shut again.

“Is the front door locked? Lights off?”

You nod, swallowing past a panicked lump in your throat as you take a couple of steps back away from the intruder.

The male copycat sighs, shoulders visibly sagging with relief.

He’s still hiding.

Still wearing the visage of the human he’d duplicated, a tired looking brunette male probably in his early thirties with tousled chestnut hair, shadowed under eyes, a long nose with the slightest bump along the bridge—an old injury that had never healed quite right, perhaps—set above thin lips.

The arm that’s been tucked tightly against his side the entire time, never once in use to restrain you or open the door, you realize, now lifts, exposing a gash across his lower abdomen, rent right through the fabric and severing the flesh beneath.

You’d incorrectly assumed the blood had been from a struggle with the original milkman he’d replicated, not from the alien himself. You suck in a deep breath, wincing as your eyes linger on the injury. “What happened?”

“Got cut jumping the fence.”

“That’s going to need stitches,” you observe as he drags the shirt’s hem free of his belted pants, hurriedly thumbing the buttons open and shrugging out of the garment, thrusting it into the garbage bin you hurriedly point to. The undershirt is similarly stained, but this he leaves in place, merely lifting the edge to better expose the wound.

His eyes meet yours. “Can you do it?”

“I mean, I’m not a physician. All I have is the sewing kit I keep in my purse to mend tears in an emergency. You need to see a doctor, go to the hospital…” Your voice trails off. Of course he couldn’t. He’d be killed instantly.

“Get it.”

You hesitate. Were you really going to risk helping this foreigner?

“Please,” he adds through gritted teeth. Perspiration beads his forehead. You wonder if he hasn’t already been exposed to something that would prove infectious later on. Not really your concern, though. You just needed to survive until you could get away from him. Somehow.

“Alright.” You don’t spare any more time debating about what the right course of action is. You grab one of the clean dish rags from under the kitchen sink and your purse stashed in the bottom desk drawer in the office.

The doppelgänger’s eyes remained fixed on your every movement, watching as you soak the wash cloth in warm water and pull the sewing kit from your purse, the fingers threading the needle shaking. You drag one of the chairs from the dining room for him to sit on, kneeling on the linoleum beside his seated form.

You hesitate again. You really didn’t have the appropriate kind of materials for this. Should you have heated the needle to try to sterilize it first? Was there even time for that? Would it be easier just to attempt to cauterize the area? Somehow you don’t think the invader would be keen on the idea of getting burned, even if the intention was to aid and not harm. “I don’t know that this is going to work, but I’ll do my best. This is going to hurt,” you caution.

“Worse than being cut open?” He asks bitterly.

“No, I suppose not.” You begin washing around the cut, scrubbing at the dried blood, trying to clean the edges of the laceration. It’s still weeping blood but the flow has slowed, the body’s natural clotting process coming into effect. The milkman he’s replicated is on the leaner side, with little softness in the abdomen you’re cleansing. “Why can’t you just replicate the skin again? Make it intact?”

“It doesn’t work like that. It’s penetrated through the outer layer. You humans are so fragile. It doesn’t take much to tear through…” He lets that thought remain unfinished.

You shiver, thinking of how, were circumstances different, he would’ve torn you to shreds without a second thought, murdering you at best, devouring you at worst. You can’t help but wonder if the doppel will turn on you once you finished patching him up.

“Okay, I’m going to try to start sewing.” Your heart is still thudding rapidly. Your eyes narrow in concentration as you pierce the skin, hurriedly seeking the adjacent flesh to sling the thread between, then drawing it taut. You’re feeling a little nauseous and lightheaded. You tell yourself you’re not piecing a person back together. Urging yourself to pretend it was something else. Mending a torn shirt. A ripped stuffed animal. Anything but the gruesome sight before you.

At last the task is completed, the pale skin sutured together. You sit back on your heels, heaving a raspy sigh, your hands clasped tightly together in your lap, willing them to stop trembling.

“You’re skilled,” the doppelgänger murmurs, looking over your handiwork, probing the closed incision gingerly. It is a rather impressive job if you’re being honest, a neat line of even stitches despite your shaking hands.

“You’ll need to keep this clean so it doesn’t get infected. And you can’t move around too much. I don’t know how well that thread will hold.” You gently push his questing digits away, applying gauze and tape from the first aid kit in the office to cover the wound and he eases the ripped undershirt back down.

“Thank you.”

Your eyes meet his. You’ve never heard of an invader asking a human for help. Being grateful. You don’t know what to make of it.

“I won’t forget this.”

You rise, tossing the used wash cloth in the trash and returning your sewing kit to the depths of your handbag. You return the chair to the dining room once he’s slid from it, watching as you settle your purse strap on your shoulder, keys to the diner in hand. The replicant opens the back door a crack, peeking outside, head cocked slightly, listening. No shouting. The DDD had passed through the area. He glances back at you a final time before slipping through the gap.

You lock the door behind him, then sag against it, exhaling a shuddering breath. He’d let you live, as promised. A doppelgänger that kept his word.

What did it mean?

***

He’s in the alley again.

You tell yourself you weren’t looking for the milkman’s clone every night for the last three shifts, merely taking out the garbage and feeding the strays per usual.

Your stomach does a little somersault as he approaches. His skin color is better, no longer so ghostly pale. The milkman uniform he’s wearing looks clean and crisp and starched. Where had he gotten it? Was he keeping a low profile, pretending to be the human he’s dressed as? There certainly seemed to be some transfer of knowledge that occurred when the replicants adopted a human form, intelligence information that surpasses beyond what could be obtained through just casual observation. The doppels knew so much about humans, and humans still knew so little about the invaders, what should have been a home field advantage hampered by the persistence of these alien visitors.

“How are you?” You greet him cautiously.

“Healing well. You did a fine job.”

What should you say to that? You’re glad you helped the enemy? You shudder to think what would happen if anyone ever found that out.

The doppelgänger steps closer. “Are you going to invite me inside?”

As if he was a vampire, seeking permission to grant entrance. You can’t imagine what he wants from you now.

Still, you push the door open wider. He eases past you, his body lightly brushing yours.

“What do you have to eat?”

“Um…” As far as you knew, the invaders only ate human flesh. “What…what did you want? I haven’t cleared out the displays yet. There’s pie, donuts from the morning, though those are probably stale by now. I can make you a sandwich, or…”

He follows you into the dining room as you list the possible offerings, reaching for one of the chocolate iced pastries tucked under the nearest glass dome. He takes an experimental bite and his mouth turns down in disgust at the flavor.

“I warned you they’d be stale.”

“It’s not that. It’s the sweetness. Overwhelming. We’re primarily carnivores.”

“Is turkey okay? Or maybe ham? I don’t know what to offer you.”

He tips his head to one side, considering. “Cow?”

“Yes, we have ground beef.”

“That would be preferable.”

“You just want it…raw?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” There are a couple of defrosted packages in the fridge. You resolve to put some of your tip money towards the meal. You don’t like the idea of stealing from the restaurant.

It feels weird just handing him the styrofoam tray, but also silly to dump the mass of pink pulverized meat onto a plate. You refuse to watch him eat, studying one of the laminated menus resting on the counter intently, unfortunately catching a glimpse of him licking the traces of blood lingering at the bottom of the package when you dare to glance over at him.

“I’m aware this adds to the debt I owe you,” he says.

You discard the tray and fold your arms across your chest, trying to exude more confidence than you felt. “I’ll put it on your tab.”

A slight frown appears as the creature processes the phrase.

“It means adding it to the list of things you already owe that you intend to repay.”

“Ah. Yes, that.” He watches you finish cleaning up after his grim repast, wiping the counter down a final time before accompanying you to the front door and waiting as you lock the entrance from the outside, tugging on the chrome handles to make sure they’ve been secured properly. “Do you live nearby?”

“Yes,” you answer, suddenly wary.

“This is not a very safe part of town for humans,” he muses.

Is anywhere safe anymore?

“Is your living space guarded by the DDD?”

“Not internally. There’s just the street patrol.”

“I’ll accompany you as far as your destination, then.”

“You don’t have to.”

The doppelgänger insists, now walking beside you. It feels unwise to allow the invader to see where you live, but then again, had he done anything to harm you thus far? Surely there had been opportunity if that was his main goal. What was his main goal? What did he want, if not to consume, to take over control of the planet like his brethren?

“You’re not like the others,” you murmur your thoughts out loud, feeling the mimic’s eyes flick in your direction.

“Do you know many doppels?” He sounds bemused.

“No,” you reply, stepping over a broken bottle littering the pavement.

“Is every human the same?”

“Of course not.”

“So why should we be any different?”

“I guess you’re right,” you concede.

You’ve reach the end of the street you’re traveling on and take a right, leading the invader onward into another back alley. You’ve barely taken a few paces before the sound of heavy footsteps alerts you to someone else’s presence.

“Disposal team.” You hear the disgust and fear in your companion’s tone as he tenses, jerking to a halt. The sounds are getting louder as the guards draw closer. “Play along. They won’t be suspicious if they see a couple.”

Suddenly you’re pushed against the wall, so abruptly the air leaves your lungs, your next desperate intake of oxygen interrupted when the doppel’s mouth covers yours.

You feel you stomach do that little somersault motion again. His tongue finds the inside of your mouth. He tastes slightly metallic. The movements are inexperienced, clumsy. Imitating something he’s seen. The teeth that nip your bottom lip are sharp.

“Hey! You there! What’s going…” The DDD officer halts, the beam of the flashlight illuminating what appears as your lover pinning you against the wall, caught up in a moment of passion. You don’t even have to fake the look of embarrassment as your eyes shyly meet the guard’s, the doppel’s mouth sliding from yours.

“Sorry, sir. Just picked my girl up from work and I couldn’t wait.” He offers a sheepish grin that looks extremely convincing.

The DDD member’s partner draws even with his cohort, the gun in his hand lowering, looking over the pastel yellow dress you’re wearing.

“I know you. You work over at the diner.”

You nod frantically.

“You should get on home. It isn’t safe out here. Even with your man with you. Especially not down the side streets.”

“Sorry, that was my idea. My feet are killing me and I just wanted to get home faster.” You pause, reaching for your purse still slung over your shoulder. “Did you want to see our IDs?”

“Nah, that’s alright. Imagine a doppel making out with a human. Right?” He elbows his companion, grinning.

“Get home safe, now. No more dallying,” the older of the pair cautions before abandoning you, resuming patrol with the more inexperienced member who’s still wearing a smirk as he trails slightly behind, darting one more glance in your direction as if hoping to catch you in the act again.

The copycat heaves a sigh of relief when they’ve both finally departed, the booted steps receding in the distance. His eyes lock with yours, and you see his nostrils flare slightly, a slight frown wrinkling the bridge of his nose, then his eyelids lift, whatever mystery he’s been puzzling over solved.

“You liked that.”

“What?” It’s your turn to be confused.

“You liked what we just did.”

Oh. Your cheeks flush again. “No, I…I was just playing along, like you said. You caught me off guard.”

“You did a good job. Thinking on your feet. Admirable, really. How deep in debt I’m getting,” the doppel hums beside your cheek. He hasn’t shifted much since your discovery, one hand still braced on the wall at your back, his body leaning close to yours. “You smell good. Good enough to eat.”

You shiver and gasp. “You promised me you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“No, no. Not what I had in mind at all,” he hurriedly reassures you. The clone of the milkman plants a kiss on the side of your neck. Gentle. Not rushed, not under the guise of something to trick the guards. Repeating the process, getting accustomed to using the human body he’s replicated for this new task. He kisses your lips again, and you know you should be repulsed.

You’re not.

Your mouth parts for his, inviting him inside. He’s already growing more skilled, the tongue against yours slick, deft, curling and stroking, the fire he’d begun stoking in your core flaring anew.

You’re French kissing a doppelgänger, and you like it.

You feel a hand caressing down your body, pausing to drag the purse off your shoulder, then kneading one breast before sliding down to your hip, moving neatly around to grope the curve of one buttocks cheek. The fingers curl, dragging up the fabric of your dress.

“I can smell your arousal. Your body wants to mate.” It’s crass, vulgar, sheer filth the alien should be slapped for uttering, but there’s nothing derogatory in the way he mentions it, the words of observation that he spreads before your lips lilted with a kind of wonder, fascination, curiosity. He’s finally reached the hem of the skirt portion of your work uniform, shifting quickly to the waistband of the panties you’re wearing, dipping underneath and nudging at the fork of your body.

To be doing this, with a doppelgänger, in public…

Your legs are already shifting, your stance broadening slightly to grant him better access. A little grunt of satisfaction, and then his fingers glide through your slickened folds, searching for the source of that dampness.

You moan softly, disappointed when the fingers do not linger, instead brought up to the invader’s lips, his thumb rolling the slick of your sex over the pads of his index and middle fingers curiously before he thrusts them into his mouth, a fresh flood leaking from your canal as you watch his eyes slide closed, a sound of some rapturous enjoyment hummed around those digits.

He kneels down, the movement swift and smooth, your eyes darting nervously to the lit street so close and yet so far, the last of the street lamp glow’s reach ending just beyond the shadows you’re standing in. The doppel looks up at you and you bury a hand in the thick mane of chestnut hair, a tender gesture of permission, pleading. You don’t know if he’d stop even if you’d declined the offer, that ravenous look in his eyes intense as he impatiently shifts the hem of your dress again, dragging away the flimsy undergarment that clothes your sex, this last barrier discarded carelessly on the pavement nearby.

Your low heeled pumps scrape against the dirty gravel of the alley as you adjust your position, the alien’s face instantly at your pussy, nose digging into your mound, tongue laving the rosy sensitive flesh. He groans and you echo the sound, your legs already trembling as his tongue delves deeper, dragging fluid back, the inadvertent flick of the tip of the curled muscle against your bud making you gasp and moan, your head rocking back against the brick and mortar.

His attention focuses on that sensitive bundle of nerve endings, mouth clamping over it and sucking, slurping, nursing at it until you see spots in front your eyes. You know you’re being loud, your only saving grace being that the building at your back is a long abandoned shirt factory with no one to hear your lewd sounds of pleasure.

His fingers are at your entrance again, paired to penetrate into that opening. The milkman he’s imitating has long fingers that reach deep, curling and twisting inside, scooping out more of your arousal for him to lap at before he sups at your pussy, drinking straight from the source.

You bite your bottom lip until it bleeds when you climax, shuddering against that incessant mouth worshipping your cunt, your fingers knotting restlessly in his tresses. You cum like a freight train, hard and fast, an unstoppable force driving you right through into bliss.

He’s still lapping, enjoying the taste of you, this new creamier substance that emerges from deep within after your release. You can’t tolerate it any longer, now shoving gently at his shoulders, pleading you’re too sensitive, it’s too much, you feel as if you might faint if not for the strong building exterior supporting your spine.

The doppelgänger rises, face wet with your juices smeared across his mouth and chin and cheeks, a distinct shine visible even in this dim illumination. “Delicious,” he growls softly, dragging his fingers over his dampened features and then nursing them clean.

His gaze focuses on the smear of crimson on your lower lip and he licks at that spot, sucking the wedge into his mouth, tasting that little copper tinged leakage of your lifeforce. You whimper and keen, feeling his hand guide one of yours to his crotch, pressing it against the erection straining there.

You squeeze gently and he huffs in pleasure, dragging your hand up and down. Needing no further guidance, you begin struggling with the belt buckle and button closure and zipper keeping you from your goal, dragging his cock through the opening flap of his briefs, smearing precum over the tip and eliciting another deep growl, the mouth nuzzling your throat vibrating in pleasure.

“Want to fuck you,” he gasps, and you find yourself nodding, no longer caring about the exposed location or what you’re about to let invade your body. You want it, the brief satiety you’d just enjoyed already dissipating, leaving you hungry for more.

His hands loop around the back of your thighs, his body crouching slightly then lifting you up, your dress scraping along the bricks. He fucks up into you and your legs wrap around him, your wrists draped over his shoulders as you’re thrust into and back against the building.

The milkman’s copycat prick is large, long and thick, stretching you as he fills you when his hips snap forward. Your unprotected buttocks suffers abrasions each time you’re impaled but you couldn’t care less. The pain is lost amidst the pleasure you’re experiencing as he buries himself deeply, withdrawing just slightly before driving forward again. Your mouths seek one another’s but it’s difficult with all the jostling, a sloppy collision of wet lips and wetter tongue, trails of saliva linking your panting openings.

“Your stitches…the strain, you shouldn’t…you’re bleeding,” you gasp, the hand that snakes down finding his shirt sticky with blood.

“Don’t care…fix it later…”

Your breasts are tender from the repeated battering of his chest against yours. You’re being pummeled mercilessly now, the invader pushing so hard it’s as if he’s trying to merge completely with you. You almost think you can see, just for a moment, a shift in the facial features, a glimpse of the doppelgänger’s true form lurking beneath the false human surface, but then it’s gone and it’s just those soft tired eyes and that slack, generous mouth as his cock pounds into your cunt until your body finally surrenders to another release, your muscles clenching, sucking at his member. He chases his own climax, moaning against your mouth, pumping streams of hot seed inside of you.

You realize then you’re both sweating, both drenched in perspiration and saliva, blood from his reopened wound and cum that leaks out of you and coats the erection he withdraws from your body as he slowly lowers you back to the ground, your stockinged feet touching the dirty road, your shoes lying nearby where they’d tumbled during the rough intercourse with the alien creature.

The doppel retrieves your panties and you hastily shove them into the purse he hands you. There’s no way you’ll be putting those back on after being in the dirty alley, almost laughing aloud at the idea when you’ve just been soiled by something you should consider disgusting. The amusement fades as you watch him brush the sole of each nylon clad foot clean before assisting them back into your pumps, the gesture almost oddly tender and thoughtful.

The doppelgänger straightens, his fingers reflexively reaching for the bloodied area staining his shirt, then moving to refasten his pants. His eyes meet yours again, waiting to see what you’ll do next. Wondering if there is regret, perhaps. Or if this is the start of…something.

“I…I live two streets over. We’re nearly there.” As if you hadn’t been interrupted on your journey home. You don’t know what to say, just wanting to fill the sudden silence.

He nods and you begin walking in slow, measured steps. Your limbs are still tingling, the aftershocks of your most recent orgasm still firing through them.

You and your companion reach your destination. The building looms up between two shuttered shops. Five stories. No elevator. You resided on the top floor. A lot of stairs to tackle on a good night when you’d merely worked a shift at the diner. Now, after this…

“It’s a long trek. I’m on the fifth floor. Will you be okay walking that much? I don’t know where else to stitch you back up again. I need to wash it, I need a good light source, I…” You’re inviting him inside your apartment. The realization suddenly dawns on you.

“Yes, I’ll manage.” He pauses. “Thank you,” he says softly.

“For what?”

“Helping me avoid the DDD earlier. This. Letting me into your home.”

You nod, your hand resting on the rusted railing that borders a flight of cement steps leading inside the building. The nearby street lamp flickers, a bulb that was long overdue for a change, the filaments within struggling.

“Of course. People should help each other.” You ascend the stairs, holding open the door for him.

He nods gratefully. “I’m not human, though. I’m the enemy.”

“Are you?” Your voice sounds wary at this reminder and you pause at the top of the first landing.

“I won’t hurt you,” he promises, following you up the next flight of stairs.

“Until the debt is repaid?”

“You don’t trust me.” It’s a statement, not a query.

“I don’t know how I feel.” You’ve reached the third floor. Despite his bravado earlier, you see him wincing slightly, his breathing ragged as he keeps one hand pressed to the injury. You wait for him to recover but he waves his other hand, indicating you should continue your journey.

“Did you enjoy it?”

The words make you halt abruptly and he nearly collides with you. You hurry up to the next landing and clear your throat before you give voice to your admission. “Yes, I enjoyed it,” you say when he reaches your side.

“Will we do that again?”

“Now?”

His solemn features break out into a smile. Handsome. The milkman whose appearance he’d copied was attractive, especially like this. You like the curve of that mouth, the flash of his teeth. “No, not now. I’m hardly in any condition to…I meant later,” he adds for clarification. “Another time.”

“Oh. Yes.” A sudden thought occurs to you. “Will you be safe from the patrol? On the way back, to wherever…”

“I’ll manage. Don’t worry.” He steps closer to you. “Are you that anxious to be rid of me?”

“No, I only meant…” You shake your head, feeling flustered.

“Were you looking for me tonight? When you were behind the diner. Hoping I’d be there, maybe?”

“Why would I…I hardly know you.”

“You know me a little better now though, right?” He crowds you back against the wall of the stairwell. You’re thinking maybe injury or not, he still wants you. You can feel the desire radiating from his eyes, his lips hovering close to yours. “You’re really something special, aren’t you? Out of all the humans to run into, and I find the only one who’s willing to take a chance on me, risk…” His voice trails off before he kisses your mouth. It seems impossible there would be any passion left inside of you to respond but you find your lips melting against his, one hand curling around the nape of his neck, holding the doppelgänger close.

#francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #that’s not my neighbor #francis mosses #milkman #thats not my neighbor #the milkman #doppelganger #tnmn milkman #tnmn francis mosses #milkman x reader #milkman x you #divider @strangergraphics

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cherry-leclerc · 3 months

Text

pride ☆ mv1

genre: smut, established relationship, stubborn!max, jealous!max, humor, fluff

word count: 3k

After his DNF, Max finds himself losing his temper when you keep insisting that it was his fault. Due to both ends, you find yourself in a constant battle on who can admit defeat first.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+... gym sex - that's all teheee

req!...super fun to write, thank u, anon for the idea !!

He never liked to be pointed out as the one who did something wrong on track. Then again, he rarely ever made those types of mistakes. Max got along with everyone on the grid, but he was there to win. And he certainly did not need his girlfriend reminding him that he’s human, just like the rest of the drivers.

“Just admit it already, you fucked up this time. You cut him off.”

A DNF was as bad as it could get, his mood quickly deteriorated as he bangs his helmet against the wall. If you weren’t used to his dark behavior, then you would have definitely worried. Instead, you tap your foot impatiently with a deep sigh, eyes rolling with strong annoyance. You didn’t like to see him like this, but it drove you crazy that he could never own up to his wrongdoings.

The Dutch harshly rips off his balaclava, dirty blond hair sticking against his angry face, normally baby blue eyes switching to a devilish color. “You’re such a…” A deep growl. “He cut me off, and that’s what got us both out of the race. What a fucking dick.”

Your brow raises up, pointing at him with accusement. “My thoughts exactly.” Turning on your heel, you spin around and walk out of his driver's room, leaving him to sulk like a manchild. Stupid, Lando.

As soon as the race ends, you sheepishly make your way to the young Brit. “Is he mad?” he asks. You shrug as if you care about what your boyfriend is feeling at this very moment. Max wasn’t the kind to get mad, he got furious.

“He’ll get over it. Though I do suggest you run the opposite way if you spot him.” He laughs, eyes crinkling with agreement. After apologizing on behalf of the grumpy Dutchman, you hurry off to find him. Propped up against the door frame, you nervously play with the hem of your dress as you inch your way closer. You can practically see the color red blooming out of him as he smiles bitterly.

“And where were you?” His voice expands softly, it makes your stomach churn, but you put on a brave face nonetheless, refusing to give in to his ego. It doesn’t matter. He chuckles, rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek, head shaking in disapproval. “Aren’t I the one you should be consoling? I don’t see why you had to go see him.”

Your eyebrows narrow down sharply. “Max, you’re being a fucking baby, you caused the crash! Lando was just unlucky and I went to let him know, is that so wrong?”

The Dutch fumes, jaw clenching. “You can go see him, I don’t give a fuck, but stop saying it was my fault. He closed in on me.” You scoff, arms crossed. “This is pure bullshit.”

“Whatever, I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’m glad you’re alright,” you sourly say, pushing past him to go and retrieve your things, getting ready to leave back to the hotel. His nose twitches, following after you. Neither of you utter a single word, simply packing and strolling out the door. As soon as the media gets involved and Lando walks by with a shy smile and wave, he instinctively grabs your hand, leading you through the tight crowd with a bright smile, despite his crash.

Setting aside your differences, you’re grateful for his sweet gesture, even if it laces with a bit of possessiveness. The drive is tense, only the sound of the blinker being heard. You try adding some music, but as soon as he turns off the radio, you turn to him, hair slapping your flushed face. “Why did you do that?” Your hand slides back up, turning it on. He repeats his same actions, leaving you to burn lasers to the side of his head.

“Your music is complete shit.” Surprised by his cold tone, your right eye twitches like a crazy person before turning your attention back towards the road. He feels bad. He’s not mad at you, not even at his friend. But he wasn’t the biggest fan of letting his team down, and much less, owning up to it.

Pushing the door open, you march in, making your way to the bathroom, ready to shower off the irritation. Max trails after you without a second thought, then you slam the door right on his face. He blinks. He can hear you turning the water on, stripping down. “You’re taking a shower by yourself this time, you dickhead.”

The next few races run smoother as he finishes in first place for most of them. All of them, actually. But his wins aren’t worth it in the end. Not with your rigid congratulations, forced kisses as you wait for him along with a puddle of photographers. It shouldn’t strike him as strange; you were still upset. For a second, he considers putting his pride aside and try to fix things, make amends, but when you mumble next to him, he quickly throws that out the window.

“Baby finally got fed his bottle.”

All his pent up emotions came rushing back as you wear an innocent smile. With a sullen glare, he walks out, leaving you to gloat. Two can play that game.

Here’s the thing with yours and Max's relationship; it was amazing. A fucking dream. You loved each other like crazy, but when you both get into an argument, it can drag out for the longest time. Your friends had pointed it out countless times, accusing you two for being freakishly stubborn. Oftentimes, he’d be the first to give up and apologize, and sometimes it was you. Only this time, it looked like a long haul.

It was a weird dynamic. He still kissed you goodbye, reminded you how much he loved you. You still attended his races, glowed with sincere happiness for every podium of his, but apart from that, you two still held on to your end of the rope. And it’s been so long. One month? Maybe two?

“Four fucking months,” Max grunts, large hands fixing his drinking straw that connects to his suit. The Dutch is clearly frustrated, Checo could tell as he warily eyes his teammate. The Mexican driver poured out an amused chuckle. Max curls a dark brow. “What?”

Checo halts. “Nothing, man. You’re just being so…how do I put this nicely?” He clicks his fingers enthusiastically. “You’re acting like a douchebag. Puras pendejadas, lo que estás haciendo.” The blue eyed boy shakes his head.

“I don’t know what you mean by that.” He walks away.

“It means you’re doing stupid shit for absolutely no reason. Take it from me, I’m married! I know what I’m talking about, and as your elder, I suggest apologizing. It’ll fix everything, trust me.” But Max only ignores him, already climbing into his car. As much as he would love to try and make things right with the woman he adores like a complete idiot, there’s always something that ruins it. Whether it’s you witty reminders, or your cruel ignorance.

Though, he feels like he’s going crazy. He can feel his hands itch as they beg to hug you the way they were used to. Or to kiss your plump lips, slightly red from your constant nibbles. You can feel his eyes on you as you cut up a group of vegetables, getting things ready for dinner. Like a tease, you bend down to pick up the bag of carrots that had just fallen. You giggle. “Whoops.”

Abruptly, he stands up. “I’m going to get in a small workout before we eat.” That’s all. Left there with your jaw on the floor, you slam the knife against the cutting board.

You missed him. You’d be insane not to. You missed cuddling with him after a long day. You missed the way he would cradle your face to kiss you eagerly after every win. Now it’s almost as if you’re a couple of strangers with the way he keeps a careful distance. And if he wasn’t going to fix things, then you would force him to.

He hears you before he actually sees you. Not a single word escapes past your lips as you skip closer. His molars grind together when he notices your tiny skirt, paired with a tank top. Perky tits salute him as he holds back a groan. Smiling sweetly, you start to stretch. “Thought I’d join you. Didn’t want to eat without you.”

His heart squeezes, ghostly nodding. Adjusting himself on the bench, he starts his set of overhead presses. Loopy eyes circle his glistening muscles as he pants tiredly, shaky breaths bouncing off of him. You have to physically stop yourself from drooling an entire ocean.

The blue eyed boy leads an impressive set, a thin layer of sweat coating him like a blanket. One you would gladly roll around in. Pursing your lips, your limbs feel extremely weak all of a sudden and decide to settle with laying down and bringing your legs up, skirt sliding down, exposing your soft skin.

“So tight,” you whine when you reach up, muscles tied up in an uncomfortable spot. Intrigued, your boyfriend takes a peek and instantly curses, large hands gripping against the metal bar. He gulps. “Maxie, can you push my legs back for me?”

His breath hitches. “No. I’m sure you can do that yourself.”

Sitting up straight, you squint your beady eyes at him as he distracts himself by adding more weight to his set. You click your tongue, a menacing grin tugging at your pink lips. “Messed up, baby, you are messed up.”

Max curses himself for falling in love with someone as beautiful as you. It seriously messed him up a concerning amount. Suddenly there was no more cold demeanor when it came to you. That simply just belonged to the rest because you were everything to him.

“First, you’re too much of a pussy to admit your mistakes and now you’re too scared to get near me?” You scoff. “It’s all starting to add up.”

Except at this very moment.

“And what exactly is that? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Kneeling down onto the black mat, you stretch your arms out against it, and lay your back flat. You hum. “Oh.” You arch your back, ass angling upwards where his eyes quickly trace to. You smirk. “Nothing.”

If he weren’t so impressed by your bratty act, he would have definitely walked out on you. But you just looked so pretty, rosy, and you were glistening. He wonders what else there was on top of that. The Dutch moves on to a bench press. Huffing, he grits his teeth as he extends his arm before puffing and bringing them back down.

The 26 year old, despite your attempts, was as focused as he could possibly be. The adrenaline was lingering in his entire system as he kept his eyes trained upward. Chest locking tightly, muscles contracting. And then he hears it. Your tiny moans, soft whimpers.

The loud sound of him dropping the weight makes you jump up a bit before looking up. He finds you in your first position you had started with when you first stepped foot into the home gym. He can feel his cock press harshly against his white shorts. “Why are you…” He trails off when your mouth drops open, brows scrunching together. Your thighs beg to be kissed. Slippery arms tug your legs closer to you as you giggle.

“My legs are too tight.” His chest tightens. “Help me get more flexible?” you press innocently as you signal for him to push your legs. “Please, Maxie.”

Sighing, he nods. As soon as he steps close to you, he can feel your pouring lust, fuck me eyes staring back up at his frame. Grabbing the heels of your feet, he pushes back as you groan. “Oh shit.” You laugh, chest vibrating against the mat. “I really needed the extra push.”

He grimaces. A silence lingers between you two before you wiggle your left foot against his palm. He raises a confused brow. I’m going to tuck it to my chest. Just hold the right one. Doing as instructed, you sigh in relief, lashes fluttering. He holds back a much needed grunt. “You’re telling me you couldn’t do this yourself?”

You nip the air. “We’re not all professional athletes, Max. I needed you.”

You can see how hard your implication is hitting him as his gaze darkens. And just as he’s about to reach out for you, you wiggle your brows. Next leg. Snapping out of trance, he eyes the way your skirt rides down your skin. In a swift movement, he lets go and takes a staggered step back. You grin. What’s wrong?

“You’re crazy.”

Standing up, you place both hands on your waist. “Why?”

Max doesn’t even recall when he pins you against the wall, your hair flying from the impactful blow, and yet, you’re smirking. Kissing you harshly, you groan, leaning against your tippy toes as you struggle to breath. He seems to be lost in your lips as he cradles your face, teeth clashing against yours at the filthy action. “You’re so beautiful,” he pants, blues staring back. “So fucking beautiful.”

Whimpering, you reach back out for him, plump lips attacking his thick neck as he sighs. The purple bruises were definitely something he would hound you on tomorrow, but for now that was the least of his worries. Admiring the colorful spot, you lick it slowly. He shudders.

“I can suck something else, you know?”

You almost don’t recognize his growl, for you haven’t heard it in so long, that it catches you by surprise as he spins you around, bending you over the nearest counter, where his wall of protein stands. He hitches your skirt up as you gasp when his fingers slide inside of you. The way he stretches you out makes you see stars as you struggle to keep upward.

“Wore this just for me, right? You knew it would drive me crazy?” His long fingers curl at the perfect angle as you nod. Yes, yes. I wore it just for you. I knew you’d like it. You squeal when he lifts you up, tits pressing against the cold marble, legs dangling like a doll. His doll. He watches the way you swallow his digits. “I fucking love it, baby…”

Then, he’s down on his knees as he wraps his lips around your clit. Moaning loudly, you press your cheek against the cool tiles, saliva dripping out of your mouth at the sensation. In your fucked up state, you still reach out for him as he grabs your hand. “You taste so sweet,” he hums. You’re close to crying when he pulls away, but calm down when he thrusts into you.

The Dutch throws his head back as soon as your velvety walls wrap around his cock, the way you swallow him whole. Makes him hate himself for holding onto his pride for so long. For keeping you away. His heart races when you prop yourself on your elbows as stare back at him with tired, lustful eyes. He grins, slapping your ass as you yelp. You ass tilts up as he watches you struggle to keep up.

Warm hands come up to keep you close to him as you bite down on your lip. “You’re a fucking brat, but God, I hate it because you were right. I pushed him off. I did, I did, I did…” His dirty hair sticks against his face as you bounce forward with every pound. “But he was making you laugh - smile - and I just couldn’t handle that.”

Your heart stops. This was news to you because there was no way the Max you knew so well would break his winning streak all due to a friendly encounter. He pecks your bare shoulder. “I don’t think you understand how much I love you.”

“Then show me.”

WIth that, he holds onto your hips with more grip as his tip brushes repeatedly against your g-spot. You’re a mess, but he’s loving every second of it. As soon as he wraps a large hand around your breast, you’re gone, spluttering white all around him as he follows. With a croaky groan, he slips out as you fall back to your original spot. He chuckles. He fixes your skirt before helping you sit up to face him. Your eyes crinkle.

“You love me,” you say in a sing-song voice as you poke his dimple. I thought I made that clear. You scrunch your nose, pecking his face all over with sloppy kisses. He playfully winces, but accepts nonetheless. “You love me, love me. Why would you ever worry about me and Lando? You know he’s just a friend.”

His smile drops as it's replaced with a scowl. “I wasn’t worried, per se. I don’t like someone else making you laugh. That’s my job.”

Your brows arch. “What are you suggesting? That I just keep mute for the rest of my days, unless I’m with you?”

Max shrugs. “Sounds like a solid plan.”

You smack his chest as he throws his head back with laughter. “No. Not a solid anything. Max, I love you.”

“I know,” he whispers.

“Okay,” you confirm, fixing your posture, lips pursing. “But please never do that again, that’s just plain out dangerous and crazy. A big no-no, Emilian.” He glares and your lips wobble childishly. “You love wins, and I love celebrating them with you. It just works.”

“You know what doesn’t work?” he retorts as he hugs you. You hum, comfortable against his warmness. “Not talking to me for four months, what were you thinking?” You push him away abruptly. We spoke! “But we didn’t fuck, and that’s the same thing.”

Crossing your arms, you roll your eyes as he stares back in awe. “If you keep this up then I’m going to crank it up to eight,” you threaten.

The Dutch nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck before you cave in. “Let’s not do that. You’d be breaking my heart.”

taglist: @myownwritings @d3kstar @crucifiedbitch

*note: i've only tagged those who asked to be included in general. i've kept that apart from the method acting series taglist!! lmk in which you would like to be, just in case!

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starkeyisthelastname · 2 months

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stepbro!rafe who’s so pussy whipped and he doesn’t even realize till he accidentally cums inside

Rafe Cameron’s mind had always been a messed up and as “normal” as he tried to act most of the time, he found himself wanting to do nasty things with his step-sister of all people. The same sister that was sweeter than Sarah if that could even be possible. He felt that it was his job to guide you and teach you things your naive 19 year old self didn’t know anything about. Sure Ward could show you the ropes on how to be financially responsible and invest your money to make more, but he wanted to teach how to take a real dick.

It was easy to get you reeled in, now that you were truly stepping into the adult world you became curious about sex and even being nearly the same age he was more experienced than you. It didn’t take much to find himself in your room every night, fingers buried inside your tight cunt as he stretched you out.

It was when he pushed himself inside you for the first time that he completely lost it. He couldn’t help but let out a few small groans, eyes rolling back as he focused on just how tight you wrapped around him. “Shit…” He breathed out, blue eyes coming back to watch you.

“Rafey…” You whimpered, voice fragile as your step-brother’s huge cock began to thrust in and out of you. You knew this had to be wrong somehow, but you loved Rafe and put all your trust into him. (That was just your naive mistake.)

Rafe was selfish, wanting to enjoy it for him. Sure he hoped it made you feel good, but right now this was the best pussy he had ever had the pleasure of being in. “Shh.. alright? Don’t fucking start whining. Just take it like a good girl.” He rasped out in that nasally rich boy tone.

You wanted to make Rafe proud and that’s exactly what you were going to do by laying there and taking it. It was an overwhelming amount of pleasure and your lower stomach was feeling funny the harder he pounded your sopping hole. Your long lashes fluttered close, quiet moans leaving your mouth as you tried not to be loud.

Rafe was having a hard time staying composed. How dare his step-sister have a cunt this magical? He was losing his pride each passing moment the more you squeezed him and the more he thrusted in. He was becoming completely pussy whipped for you and his frustration had his hand around your throat in seconds.

Your eyes immediately shot open at the metal ring digging into your neck as he brutally fucked you. You felt as if you should be scared, but you felt quite opposite. It turned you on, made you clench around his dick as you creamed around him. Your smaller hand came to rest on his own that was against your throat, mouth opening in a hoarse whine.

“Make a mess on your step-bro’s dick. Yeah…you are a freak aren’t you? Getting off on being choked and getting dicked down.” He rasped out, turned on more than he ever had been.

Rafe was sure he had just fallen in love. Of course it was his step-sister of all people. The way you looked right now. The way you felt right now. He had never came inside any girl raw, but there you were coming down from an intense orgasm looking so fucking beautiful. His eyes darkened, staring down at you through slits as his seed painted your insides white. He didn’t even know that he had just exploded inside of you until he heard you whimper at the new feeling.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron prompt #stepbro!rafe #rafe cameron blurb #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut #obx #obx smut

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rosebudfics · 6 months

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Professor!reader and severus being married but hiding it from the students, bc they dont want the gossip and are just private people in general BUT one day sev forgets to take off his wedding ring and the golden trio go on this whole mission to find out who hes married to; completely freaking out when it turns out hes with reader cause theyre complete opposites while teaching

(Sorry if this is too long or doesnt make sense :^ i had this scenario in my head for some time lol)

Secret Lovers

Severus Snape x Professor! Reader

Warnings: use of the name "git" a lot lol, reader is the astronomy teacher but you can swap it out for any class, Snape smacks Ron and Harry

A/N: I LOVE THIS REQUEST SO MUCH OMG!?!?!?! also this isnt really set in any specific year but its more leaning towards where theyre older since snape you know.. hits ron and harry over the head and harry has the map <3

You and Severus had managed to keep your relationship secret for a couple years now, with the exception of only Minerva and Dumbledore knowing.

Why does anyone else need to know anyway? It was none of their business!

So one regular morning when you and Sev were getting ready for the day in the early hours of the morning, he had somehow forgotten to take his golden band off. You both would usually keep them in a little ring box at home so they were hidden but safe and put them back on at night, but today Severus had just forgotten to take it off.

You would bid your goodbyes at home before you left together, getting one last kiss in before heading back to Hogwarts, then Severus would put his usual cold face back on.

You both headed to your classrooms like normal, Severus still failing to notice the wedding band still on his finger.

When classes started, everything was going how it usually would: he would deduct house points, snapping at kids whenever they would interrupt his teaching, etc. That is until Hermione noticed a particular shine off her teachers hand.

Hermione looked closer before very quietly gasping. "Holy cricket!" She whispered so only Harry and Ron could hear her.

“What?” Ron asked curiously but not very quietly, earning the attention of Severus.

“On Professor Snape’s hand, he was wearing a wedding ring!” She said in a hushed voice.

“You must be crazy Herminone, there's no way that he’s married to someone.” Harry chuckled.

“Yeah, no ones gonna want to let alone be in any relationship with that old git-” Ron was interrupted by getting smacked over the head by Severus, followed up by Harry getting smacked as well.

Hermione just kept quiet, keeping her giggle to herself.

“Would you mind repeating yourself Mr. Weasley?” Severus sneered down at him.

“...no, sorry.” Ron grumbled.

“Mhm. 5 points from Gryffindor, and that's me being generous.”

After class, Ron, Hermione, and Harry all gathered at the library at break. “Are you sure you saw a ring, Hermione? Was it even on his ring finger?” Harry asked as he sat down some books in front of him.

“I'm certain! The real question is though, to who?” Hermione thought for a minute.

“Harry, why can't we just use your cloak to spy on him?” Ron questioned like it was obvious.

“Brilliant!” Harry exclaimed but Hermione smacked him in the arm.

“That's invading his privacy! It's terribly rude.” She scoffed.

Ron then mocked her, earning a smack. After a while of begs and pleas, she finally caved.

“Alright, alright!” She sighed.

They then all made their way back to the dorm to get everything they needed. Harry also grabbed the Marauders Map so it would be easier to find Snape. And then off they went on their little adventure to hunt down his wife.

They had to do some weaving and dodging to not bump into anyone (they bumped into Neville at some point, terrifying him) until they made it to the staff room. Harry looked down at his map to find Snape and you, they're astronomy teacher, alone.

“What are Professor Snape and Professor y/n doing together?” Ron asked in a confused voice.

Harry hushed him and then looked into the keyhole to find Snape and you talking to eachother.

“Are you sure no one saw the ring?” you asked again.

“Yes, dear, I am sure of it.” Snape said in a somewhat annoyed tone. “If someone did see it, I would be getting hounded with questions!”

“Yeah well not if all the students are terrified of you!” you sighed. “Look I'm not mad, I don't want you to think that, it's just we've gone this long keeping it secret it feels weird to just slip up like this”

Severus stepped towards you and grabbed your face in his hands. “Listen love, no one will know. Maybe in the future we can be more open about it.” He then bent down and kissed her gently, and you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer.

Harry gasped quietly and backed up. He was about to say something before he heard footsteps walking towards the door. “We gotta get outta here!”

They all then scurried off down the hall back to the dormitory.

“Harry, what did you see? What were they doing in there?” Ron asked.

“Its professor y/n, that's who he's married to!” Harry was slightly out of breath from running.

“Professor y/n?? But they're so.. so different!” Hermione was shocked.

“You must be seeing things mate, there's NO way Proffesor y/n is married to the old git.” Ron scoffed.

“I'm telling you! They were talking about how he had forgotten to take his ring off or something and then they kissed!” Harry gushed.

They then talked about why you would ever want to marry Snape for the rest of break. Interestingly enough they next class was with you!

Since you were an extremely nice and open teacher, they felt more comfortable talking to you about it.

"So professor y/n, have you been seeing anyone lately?" Ron asked before class actually started.

You were caught off guard to say the least. "Well... I dont really see how my romantic life concerns any of you," you laugh whole heartedly.

Ron then smirked. "You never denied it. Perhaps another Proffesor that teaches here!" Hermione pinched his side as a warning to shut up.

"I don't know what your getting at, Ron" you chuckle becoming a little worried.

"Well the man I'm thinking of is a mean, old, cranky git that likes potions-"

"Thats enough! You don't ever talk about another Proffesor like that!" You scolded him.

"Alright, sorry proffesor... but im right, aren't i?" Ron smirked.

Harry and Hermione perked up to listen.

You sighed, before making sure that no other student or teacher was around, nd then said "You must not tell anyone."

#severus snape x reader #pro snape #professor snape #severus snape #snape #snape fandom #snapedom #snape x you #snape x reader #snape x y/n #severus x you #severus x reader #severus x y/n

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lovebugism · 3 months

Note

if you're still looking for shy reader ones (with a hint of smuttiness) maybe Eddie finds shy reader's sex toys?

ty! — eddie munson stumbles upon your sex toy and shy!you learns to cope (shy!fem!r, fluff, allusions to smut 18+)

Twisted in thin sheets and Eddie’s Hellfire shirt, you fight for slumber in the honeyed haze of your bedroom. You rest on your stomach, arms wrenched around the pillow you clutch to your face. A heavy, comforting weight smooths over your back in the familiar shape of Eddie Munson. A lazy smile tugs at your lips.

“How are we supposed to nap if you won’t stop touching me?” you mumble as the boy sprinkles chaste kisses to your jaw and neck.

“Can’t help it. You’re too pretty,” he slurs, still sleepy but trying to fight it.

The tip of his nose traces your pulse point when he moves down to kiss the bare skin of your shoulder — where the neck of your shirt has fallen slightly down. Chill bumps erupt beneath his touch. You feel his smile contort against your skin.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it,” Eddie teases. “I know you do.”

“Hm,” you hum, writhing slightly between the mattress and his body. “I do like it,” you confess in a half-muffled murmur.

“Yeah?”

You nod against the pillow. “Very much…”

His bare stomach settles flush against your back when he rises on his forearms. His crotch ruts subtly (only sort of unintentionally) against your ass — cock already half-hard and aching. His plush mouth brushes the shell of your ear. You fight back a shiver.

“Have any rubbers?” he mumbles.

“Top drawer. On the right.”

Eddie scoffs and sits back on his haunches, taking his warmth and the covers with him. He swats your ass with a rough, but not unkind hand, before rising off the squeaking mattress. “You minx,” he chuckles. “What the hell do you have a pack of rubbers here for?”

You giggle weakly into the pillow. “The same reason everyone has ‘em, Eds.”

“Who else are you using them with, huh?”

You’d roll your eyes at him if they were open. “No one,” you scoff. “You’ll be pleased to find them unopened.”

With your eyes still shut, you only hear the squeaking of an opened drawer. You wait for the sound of Eddie ripping the box open like a total maniac, but it never comes. The strange silence makes your chest ache.

“Well…” Eddie scoffs in a teasing lilt. “What is this?”

You lift your heavy head from the pillow to glance at him over your shoulder. Squinting with tired eyes, you find the boy on the exact opposite side of the dresser you pointed him towards. Your veins flood with an ice-cold horror.

“I said on the right!” you shout, rising from the mattress and rushing towards him with a newfound life.

“This is the right!” Eddie argues, then makes an L shape with both his hands. His brows raise beneath his fluffy bangs when he realizes he’s gotten them backwards. “…Oh.”

You slam the drawer shut, as if the damage hasn’t already been done.

You’re not sure what’s more embarrassing, actually — the fact that your boyfriend’s just seen your drawer of sex toys, or the fact that they’re audibly jostling against one another while you try to hide them. Both equally make you so mortified you could die.

“Hey!” Eddie shouts. “I was looking at those!”

You glare at him. “Don’t make fun!”

“I’m not making fun!” he assures through a set of boyish giggles. He gestures wildly with ringed hands and tells you, “You’re a girl with needs, babe— I’m actually glad you’re taking care of yourself when I’m not around.”

“Eddie!” you shout, equal parts scolding and whining.

He laughs again, louder now but no less sincere. “I’m serious! You don’t have to be embarrassed about it, okay? It’s normal. And it doesn’t bother me. Alright? No big deal.” He tilts his wild head to his shoulder and smiles lazily down at you. “Well. As long as you’re not planning on trading me for Mr. Sparkling Pink Vibrator in there—”

You swat half-heartedly at his chest, face screwed with a distant horror. “I said don’t make fun!” you grouse and try to step back from him.

Eddie pulls you back by your wrists, making you stumble into his chest. He ducks down until the tip of his nose brushes the bridge of yours. With a bright pink and crooked beam, he tells you, “I’m kidding, alright? I’m just messin’. I’ll leave you alone about it, okay?”

“Promise?” you murmur in a mousy voice.

“Mhm. I promise,” he nods once, then can’t help but smirk. “Unless, you know, you ever wanna use ‘em together…”

Your nose scrunches at the offer. Not because you don’t like it (your stomach is warm and swirling at the thought), but because you didn’t like he would. “You’d wanna do that? With me?”

“Yeah. You know, whenever you want. No big deal…” he shrugs and tries to be cool about it.

But the thought of pinning you beneath his body, piercing you with his cock, and holding the pretty vibrator to your clit while you scream for him — unable to decide whether you want more of his merciless pleasure or if you can’t take any of it anymore — makes his hands tremble with yearning.

“Though… Now would be preferable.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #stranger things imagine #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble

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leaderwonim · 3 months

Text

i’m just a teenage dirtbag baby ( like you. )

based on this edit !!

pairing. troublemaker!nishimura riki x goody-two-shoes!fem!reader

summary. nishimura riki was infamous for being handsome and also quite the character. he’d purposely throw papers everywhere, bump into people without a care, and ditch class like it was nothing. you were the complete opposite, but deep down, nishimura riki knew you were just like him

warnings. cursing, smoking, riki destroys someone’s private property 😭, riki is your typical teenage dirtbag, he also calls her sweets

“Hey.”

Nishimura Riki slides onto the seat right next to yours, blinking twice as much as he should be. You knew it was one of his teasing habits, meant to make you shift uncomfortably under his gaze.

“What do you want Nishimura?”

He puts his hand over his chest, pretending he’s wounded by your words. “Nishimura? We’re on last name basis sweets?”

“Shut up,” you say, pushing his face away with your index finger. “I have exams to study for.”

“Let me see.” He ignores your protests, flipping your textbook to his side as he eyes the papers. “Ew, mathematics? You’re a bigger nerd than I thought sweets.”

“Don’t call me sweets.” You say, sticking out your tongue in annoyance. “And get out of here.”

He lifts both hands in surrender, “alright, alright, I’ll leave sweets. Gotta meet Jungwon anyways.”

You thank whoever above was listening to your pleas of making Riki leave. Turning around to face the desk he was in, you realize he hadn’t pushed in his chair.

“Nishimura!” You groan out loud, pushing it in with your foot. This earns you a shush from the librarian, which only fuels your hatred towards the Japanese boy.

.♡.

“Y/N! Is that you?” There was Nishimura Riki’s annoying voice again, the one voice that you dread to hear everytime you entered school.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than annoy other people?” You ask, face clearly unimpressed.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of bed.”

You glare at Jungwon’s unneeded input in the conversation, which makes him snicker and look away.

“You guys are ditching again?”

Riki and Jungwon shrug, making you roll your eyes. Of course the two were ditching, why did you even ask?

“We were gonna stop by the cigarette shop and get a pack or two.”

Jungwon elbows Riki, as if he wasn’t supposed to say that out loud.

“What? We can trust Y/N, isn’t that right sweets?”

“You still call her sweets?” Jungwon groans. “Gross dude. Let’s go.”

Jungwon starts walking, Riki closely following behind him. Just before they exit the school corridors, the boy throws you a wink, one that you roll your eyes at.

“You’ll love me one day sweets!” He shouts.

“In your dreams Nishimura!”

.♡.

It seemed like nothing was going your way. The next week had approached and even though it was barely Monday, your teachers decided it was a good idea to assign a bunch of exams on the same day.

With quivering hands, you tried not to get the tears that were currently coming out of your eyes onto your physics paper, which was marked with a 68.

How on earth did you get a 68? You were so sure you knew the formulas that were needed for the exam, but what was on the test looked completely different from what you expected.

You could barely find it in yourself to walk home, legs practically dragging across the concrete floor as you wipe your tears away with your windbreaker.

“Sweets?”

Although your normal self would snarl at the nickname and the voice it belonged to—you found yourself too tired and miserable to care at this point.

“Riki?”

You wipe your eyes again, vision clearing in enough to make out Riki leaning against one of the large trees a few meters away from the school.

“Hey, what’s wrong sweets?” He takes the cigarette that was currently dangling on his mouth out, squishing the head of it on the dirt floor beside him.

“Are you smoking again? That’s bad for you and you know it.”

“Geez sweets,” he laughs, finally standing up. “You looked like you just bawled your eyes out yet you still have enough energy to lecture me?”

“Shut up.”

“Ah, there she is again.”

Riki makes his way closer to you, head peering down to reach your level.

“Don’t cry.” He says softly, and it’s the first time you heard him in that tone. “Makes your eyes all red and scary.”

“Yah!”

He laughs when you hit him on the shoulder, sound that used to make you frown but you were weirdly enjoying it now.

“I’m kidding sweets!” He slings an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to him. “You’re pretty, even when you have tear stains all over you.”

The two of you continue walking, you not too sure where Riki was even taking you.

“Where are we going?” You sniffle, looking around the area.

“This new arcade, cmon, I’ll drive us.”

The two of you are in front of his beaten down Toyota, although it looks pretty clean from the inside. You thought Riki’s car would be an absolute mess, but it seemed like he was a clean freak when you opened the door to the smell of vanilla and cinnamon.

“You actually clean your car?”

“I’m offended you thought I didn’t sweets!” He says, frowning. “Thankfully, I don’t hold grudges.”

He puts the key in, hands tapping against his leather seat. “Wanna tell me why you’re so sad?”

He places a hand on the head of your seat, body twisting back with one hand on the wheel to pull out of his parking spot. He looked incredibly handsome doing such a basic task that it almost made your ability to speak go away.

“I got a 68 on my physics test.” You say, shoulders defeated.

“No way.” He continues driving, eyes glancing back and forth from the road to you. “Mr. Yuji’s class right? Fucking hate him.”

“Yeah well, I do too.”

Riki takes a road that you’re unfamiliar with, and he suddenly stops the car in front of a house.

“What are you doing Riki?” You say, watching as he opens his trunk and leaves the car.

“Doing something I should’ve done a long time ago.”

He pulls out a bat, and your eyes widen when he smashes it against a mailbox, crushing it in completely.

“Holy shit!” You shriek, eyes widening as Riki throws back the bat into the trunk, closing it with a loud bang.

He runs back to the car, slamming the door behind him.

“And that’s for Y/N motherfucker!” He yells before driving off, his boyish laughter could be heard from a distance.

“You’re crazy.” You breathe out, body still in shock from what you witnessed. “Who’s mailbox was that?”

“Mr. Yuji’s.” He smirks, eyes still on the road. “Let’s just say—this isn’t the first time I’ve been to his residence.”

“Wow.” You rest your head against Riki’s cold windows, still taking in what just happened. “Thank you?”

“You’re welcome sweets.” He smiles, teeth practically shinning like the movies. “Now how about that arcade I promised you earlier?”

.♡.

After hanging out with Riki at the arcade on Monday, you realized the boy wasn’t as bad as you thought.

He had won you a gigantic brown teddy bear, a cliché that you never thought would have happened to you after failing your physics exam.

He made you name it James The Third, and made you promise that it was your child and you had to take care of it while he was away.

“I heard you hung out with Nishimura this weekend!” You swore nothing could go past Byeol, who was currently geeking at the sudden news of you and Riki being so close.

“Shh, keep your voice down!”

Byeol wiggles her eyebrows, giggling at your stressed state. “You two are so cute! Opposites attract!”

You start to walk away from her, using the excuse that class has started. Sure Riki was handsome and weirdly—nice—you weren’t sure what your feelings about him were yet.

“Hi.”

You basically flinch out of your seat when you see him right next to you. He had a can of soy milk and a slice of chocolate cake with him.

“I brought you soy milk, hopefully you like it.”

You give him a small smile, not trusting your words enough to actually speak. Thankfully for you, the teacher entered right after, starting her lesson on trigonometry.

“Nishimura Riki, do you really have to eat in my class?” The teacher stops writing, placing her chalk on the board as she stares directly into Riki’s eyes.

He looks up from the bangs poking at his eyes, giving the teacher a stupid smile.

“Yes Mrs. Park, I’m very hungry.”

“Very well.” She wants to scowl at Riki, you could tell by her furrowed eyebrows. But she doesn’t, instead, picking up her chalk again to continue the lesson.

3 minutes don’t even past when Riki’s chewing gets incredibly loud and obnoxious, making you place a hand over your mouth to prevent yourself from bursting out laughing.

“Is the chocolate cake that good, Riki?” The teacher asks, trying not to completely snap at the boy.

“It’s sooo good.” Riki says, smiling fully with his teeth.

The class blurts out in laughter and hysteria, making Mrs. Park practically crush the chalk that was in her hand.

“That’s it! Go outside Nishimura Riki!”

He rolls his eyes, standing up from his seat. “Fine, but I was just eating cake.”

He looks over to you, who was currently giggling underneath your breath. He gives you a small smile, flicking your forehead softly before leaving the room, leaving you a blushing mess.

.♡.

“Pssst.”

You turn around, already knowing who was on the other side.

Of course Nishimura Riki was there.

“I’ve got two tickets to see Arctic Monkeys, come with me Friday night?”

You shake your head softly. “Oh I don’t know Riki, I have to study.”

“Don’t say that sweets,” he groans, head slumping into your shoulder. “Have some fun!”

“Shhh!” You look around, thankful the librarian wasn’t here to scold you guys. “Okay, okay, I’ll go. Just be quiet.”

“Yay!” He cheers, and it’s the happiest you’ve ever seen of the boy. “I’ll pick you up, okay? Friday night, 8pm exactly.”

“Okay Riki,” you say. “I’ll see you.”

Friday comes by in a flash, and you weren’t sure what to wear to the concert.

Despite it being your last year of being a teenager, you still haven’t attended one. So you were in a real struggle to pick what would be perfect.

You decided to go with a plain black top and cream colored cargos that hugged your waist, one without straps so your shoulders could be out. You were sure it’d get hot in the concert with all the people that would be attending.

“You look cute.” Riki says as he rows down the window. “Get in.”

The stadium is only 20 minutes away from your house, and you’re starting to get nervous when you realize how many people were attending.

“Hey,” Riki says, taking ahold of your hand when he notices it shaking. “It’ll be the most fun night of your life. I promise.”

And he was right. Although you were sure you weren’t going to enjoy it all that much, you found yourself singing and swaying along to the music.

The stadium was dim, making the music hit even ten times harder.

When I wanna be yours started playing, your vision was focused on the band whereas Riki’s eyes were focused on you.

“Hey!” You giggle, catching him staring at you. “Focus on the music dummy! You’re the one who bought the tickets.”

“Yeah yeah,” he says, smiling ear to ear. “The concert’s great and all but you’re even better.”

You don’t get to question his words before he crashes his lips onto yours with the lyrics wanna be yours blasting in the background.

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