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gloomwitchwrites · 2 months ago

Note

make out sesh with 141 guys pls??? 🥺🙏🏽🛐

A make out session? Oh, yes please. I will say, thank you for leaving the prompt open. I was able to completely run with it and make it my own. I really hope what I’ve cooked up is satisfying. It was fun putting this together!

You’ve got some undercover work and pretending not to know each other, to deny feelings and then admitting feelings, to being sold to pay off a debt (dubcon on this one), and a brief pretend relationship.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): dubcon kissing (Ghost & Price), arguments, uncover missions, suggestive themes, swearing, denial of feelings to admitting feelings, pretend relationship, Crime AU

Word Count: 2.5k

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Come here.”

Kyle grabs your wrist and pulls you in the opposite direction. You spin into him, his other arm going about your waist.

“What are you doing?” you ask, volume spiking slightly in surprise.

“Follow my lead,” he murmurs, backing you into a dark corner of the packed bar.

The roar of the crowd is loud, but with Kyle caging you in, it all seems to dampen a little, as if the two of you are in your own world.

“Kiss me,” he says.

“What?”

“We need to blend in.” Kyle turns slightly, glancing over his shoulder., checking the room. “Kiss me,” he insists, lowering his head until the tip of his nose brushes against yours.

Kyle is leading this mission. It’s not like you to question orders, but you also aren’t sure what it is he notices in the crowd.

“Okay,” you mutter, grasping the back of his neck to pull him close.

Closing the distance, you press your lips to Kyle’s, expecting him to remain emotionless and passive. But he surprises, subverts your expectations. Kyle melts under your kiss, returning with more enthusiasm than with what you offered. You’re momentarily surprised, and in that opening, Kyle advances, turning the simple kiss into something more.

His tongue delves, and you taste him.

For a moment, you forget that you’re on a mission, and that this is Kyle, your coworker and teammate. A little moan escapes you, and Kyle responds by placing his hand on your ass, squeezing tightly, forcing you to remain still as he goes in for more.

Time stretches, and the sounds of the packed bar become distant memory. All you know is Kyle. All you understand is the feel of his hands and the way he devours you.

You’re completely lost. Spiraling. Slipping—

Kyle breaks away, and the loss is agony. His chest heaves, lips slightly puffy from your kisses. He laughs. Smirks. Rests his head against yours.

“Got lost there,” he whispers, and your heart flutters.

“Me too,” you affirm, wanting to say more.

Kyle draws back. Glancing over his shoulder again, he checks the room.

“Gone. Good. We can go.”

No, you think. Why can’t we stay here?

John Price

“Go on, doll. Sit in his lap.”

Hovering between remaining still or doing as your told, you glance at Captain Price for guidance. The man is your superior even if you don’t directly take orders from him. But in this moment, he’s not Captain Price, is he? He’s a customer sitting with a man looking to swap drugs for weapons. And you’re supposed to be a hired dancer.

When you agreed to the undercover mission, you expected to shake your ass, maybe even grind in a few laps. Ultimately, you’re there to listen and observe. Yet the target developed a liking to you, bought you so that you’d come dance for him privately.

And now he’s telling you to go sit in Price’s lap.

“Hey! You listening to me?” The target, Damon, snaps his fingers to get your attention. If you weren’t undercover, you’d punch him in his fucking face. “Go sit in his lap. I’m not paying you for fucking laughs.”

You try to give him your best smile but it comes out a grimace. Obediently, you turn, moving toward Captain Price, hips swaying languidly. You’re practically naked right now. Just platform heels, a thong, and a shiny bikini top that barely covers your nipples.

Captain Price watches you intently, and though he retains eye contact, his gaze slips a few times, moving downward before quickly snapping back up again.

With exaggerated movements, you kneel slowly, straddling his lap as you settle in his lap. Price keeps his arms outstretched over the back of the sofa, but his gaze never leaves your face.

“Sorry,” you whisper, because you know Damon can’t see.

Price remains silent.

Damon laughs. “Give him a kiss, doll.”

You inhale deeply, eyes closing as you do so. On the exhale, you open them, waiting for Price to give some sort of clue.

And he does.

It’s so small you won’t even notice unless you were looking for it.

Placing your hands on Price’s chest, you lean forward seductively, popping your ass out and arching your back. You press your lips to his. You expect him to remain passive and unmoving, but Price surprises you, grasping the back of your head to pull you in.

“Give the man some tongue,” Damon shouts over the music.

You want to turn around and hurl something at the idiot, but you comply, hands settling on the top of Price’s shoulders as you go in for more kisses. Price doesn’t push back or resist. If anything, he indulges each one, matching the energy and intensity. He tastes like whiskey and of the cigar he just smoked.

There is no end to it, only Price’s mouth, and the feeling of his hands as he brings them in to touch and caress. It’s not so out of place, there are two other dancers in the room, one of them is likely going down on Damon based on the wet slurping sounds you hear.

But all becomes too much—too intense—and you have to draw back to catch your breath. There is no anger in Price’s face, if anything, you find something unfamiliar.

A hunger.

Desire in those blue irises.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Every pounding step you take shepherds you away from Johnny. Beneath your skin is a buzzing as if your bones and blood vibrate.

“Slow down.”

Johnny’s voice is sharp and desperate. But you do not slow down. How can you? You can’t face him.

He yells your name and the urge to glance back is agony. Yet you remain steadfast.

“Fucking—bloody hell. Slow down.”

As you turn the corner, the exit appears, your freedom moments from reality.

You’re so close.

So—

A large hand grabs your upper arm. You’re yanked backward, dragged into a nearby conference room. Johnny shuts the door and pushes you up against the wall. He has one hand planted firmly against the wall next to your head and the other on your waist. His hips press against yours.

“I hate it when you run,” he growls.

“You didn’t have to follow.”

Johnny chuckles and shakes his head in disbelief. “Just admit it.”

“Admit what?” you snap.

He presses in even more, casting you completely in shadow. “How much you want me,” he murmurs, voice an inviting croon.

There is a wanton nature in you. It craves Johnny like a bird craves to soar with the wind.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you gasp.

It’s a lie. You do know.

The desire to close the distance, to press your lips to his is undeniable.

“Don’t lie,” he says, creating no room for movement.

Johnny rests his forehead against yours, the tip of his nose brushing your cheekbone. His warm breath teases your skin, dancing across your flesh. There is only a fraction of space, and all you need to do is tip your face upward, to present yourself to him.

“Johnny,” you whimper, and he groans in response.

“I know you love me,” he whispers, but he’s not really saying it to you, almost like he’s trying to affirm what he already knows. “You love me.”

Don’t deny yourself.

I know you love me.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” you reply softly.

Johnny smiles as he closes the distance. The first kiss sends an electrical shot through your system. The connection is instant, a driving force that has your body stirring. Hands move to Johnny’s abdomen, circling to his lower back, pressing to get him even closer.

Each one is deep and suffocating. There is hunger in each one, but it’s the moment his teeth snag your bottom lip that you surrender entirely. Opening, Johnny slides his tongue inside, and you moan for him.

That one sound ignites something in him. Johnny’s hand against the wall drops, coming to rest at the base of your throat. He presses, shoving you harder against the wall and he claims your mouth. His other hand travels to your thigh, squeezes.

You’re grasping for him too, fingers digging into clothes and skin, wanting—no—needing him closer, as if you could fuse your bodies together forever. When you push against him, Johnny retaliates with pressure on your neck. You gasp, breaking the kiss, only for Johnny to go in and gently suckle on your tongue.

“Now,” he murmurs. “Tell me again that you don’t want me.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“I’ve come to pay off my father’s debt.”

A pause. Then—

“He’s already paid.”

You frown. “That’s impossible.”

“Are you saying I’m lying?”

“No,” you say quickly. “Never. Just—”

“The debt is paid.”

It’s impossible. Entirely unlikely. Your father is too much of a drunken risktaker to have paid off his debt to Ghost so swiftly. There’s something else going on. A deal, maybe. But you have the money—in cash—he can’t say no to you.

“But I brought the money,” you insist.

Ghost falls back against the cushioned lounge sofa, one arm resting along the back as he observers you from behind the balaclava. All you can see are his brown eyes, and you cannot read his expression.

“What makes you think I’ll take it?” he asks slowly.

Behind you is a black curtain. This area of the club is VIP. The fact that you were let back here at all is a miracle.

“Because I know my father didn’t pay off the debt in cash. He had to have paid some other way.” You twist slightly, opening up your bag to reach for the money. “And I’m here to clear it.”

Finding what you’re after, you present it, holding out in front of you boldly. It’s the only language men like Ghost understand.

He’s not looking at the cash at all, but at you. “You’re right. Your father didn’t pay with cash.”

“Then you can take it.”

You purposefully avoid making it a question. In this, must insist. Ghost could come after not just your father, but you. If you’re lucky, he might take some possessions. Worst case, your life.

Ghost casually spreads his legs, and lightly taps is thigh. “Come here. Sit.”

You blink. “Take the money,” you insist again, an exasperation leaking into your tone.

He chuckles, low and deep and harsh like whiskey. “No. But I’ll take you.”

Your arm starts to hurt, and that little ache weakens the muscles, causing your arm to drop slightly. “I’m not on offer.”

“You were when your father came to see me.”

No. No.

“You lie,” you whisper.

“And I accepted,” he says like it’s a non-issue. “Always had a bit of a soft spot of you anyway.”

Unbelieving, you move forward, this time holding the cash out like a weapon. The two bodyguards on either side of him move forward but Ghost raises his hand. They halt immediately, hands on their weapons and gazes focused in on you.

“Take the fucking money,” you growl.

This time, you see the smirk behind the balaclava. It’s in the way the skin around his eyes wrinkles slightly. Ghost finds this amusing.

When he says nothing, you throw the cash down on the table, and turn your back on him. It’s not smart to give a man like Ghost your back, but you’re pissed. You charge forward, intending to stomp right through the curtains and out of the club. But his bodyguards move to block your path, barring the exit.

“Let me through.”

“I told you,” Ghost calls out. “Your father paid his debt.”

You whirl, trudging forwarding, walking around the table to get as close to him as you can. “I will not—”

Before the sentence is even out of your mouth, Simon is grabbing your hips, yanking you into his lap.

“There,” he coos. “Just as I told you to do.”

You’re too stunned to move. Too surprised to speak. Here you are, straddling this man’s lap, his hands boldly grasping your ass, his gaze—interested.

Your mouth opens. Shuts. Opens again.

“Let—let me go.”

Ghost shakes his head. “Too late for that. You’re mine now.”

When he says mine, his hands lightly squeeze your ass and then drag downward to do the same to your thighs.

He glances over your shoulder, his expression becoming dangerous. “Leave us,” he commands, and the bodyguards disappear.

Ghost’s brow smooths, and then his tone shifts to a familiarity that makes you shiver. “Now that you belong to me, how about a kiss?”

“I’d rather kiss a donkey,” you snap, and Ghost laughs.

“Think you’ll find kissing me more pleasant.”

You scoff, but Ghost’s hands squeeze again, his pelvis lightly grinding against you.

“Go on,” he whispers, voice enticing and welcoming. “Push up the mask. Let me taste you.”

This violent man isn’t to be trusted. And you shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. But your hands move up his chest, traveling to the balaclava, fingers curling under the edge. Lifting slightly, you reveal his neck. It’s covered in tattoos, and as you bring the balaclava higher, you find scars and then—his mouth.

Ghost licks his lips, and a stirring heat rises in you. He leans in, and you find yourself giving in.

“I won’t be your whore,” you murmur as you descend.

“No,” agrees Ghost. “You’ll be so much more.”

When your mouth meets his, it’s nothing more than a kiss. Simple. Clean. No teeth or tongue. Just two people closing the distance. He is not tentative though, and when he goes for another, you accept without hesitation. That seems to be the shift, the thing that changes him.

With a low growl, Ghost drags you entirely against him, and there is no subtlety in it. He claims your mouth repeatedly, stealing your breath, making you question everything you know about yourself. A man this dangerous shouldn’t cause such emotion. It shouldn’t make your pussy wet or for your stomach to flip.

But he keeps kissing, and kissing, until you’re grinding against him, meeting Ghost with equal need. And when his tongue teases your lips, you happily open for him, tasting him as much as he tastes you. Each time you try to pull away, to catch your breath and create some distance, Ghost is pulling you in again, and you allow it.

Your father’s debt is paid.

And it’s you.

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beanlot · 6 months ago

Text

ellie, who uses a vibrator on you for the first time, and just can’t get e-fucking-nough.

wc: 2.2k (smut + light fluff)

─── ⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰ ───

“the fuck is that?” you hum from the crook of her neck after having examined the small toy, and it rests in her palm, her voice a little shaky from nerves. “okay.. so.. uh.. this little guy, helps stimulate certain areas..”

“this little guy?” you repeat her words with a playful smirk, pupils dilated with adoration when you look at her, resplendent enough that she can see her flustered expression reflecting back at her when she maintained that eye contact.

“yeah, this little guy..” she has a teasing smile to her, which only amplifies the pooling anticipation in your stomach.

“turn it on. turn it on.” you eagerly whisper against her neck, your lips still numb from your previous make-out, tingling from her savoured taste. after a few seconds of tampering with the remote, you hear a silent whirring. “alright.. says here that this is the lightest level. ‘n then..” she mumbles, and the whirring intensifies into a jarring buzz.

“i see..” you mumble as you watch the toy convulsing in her palm, and you touch it, your fingertips shivering intensely upon the metallic. “damn.”

but whilst your eyes are inspecting it, her eyes are plastered onto you, eyes brimming with desire. lust. hunger. you don’t notice it, you just feel her seductive breath on your cheek; her inviting whisper following shortly after.

“let me.. please?”

you slowly turn your head to look at her, noting her low lids and desperately parted lips that beg for your acceptance. you don’t answer, admiring her features as it fuels the fluttering in your chest and the cudgelling of your heartbeat against your ribs.

you want it. you want her so bad.

“it’ll feel good, baby.. i’ll try..” her whisper is a plead, delicate kisses peppering your jawline so seductively as she guides the device to your chest. your breath is unregulated, shaky with her intuitive touches.

you sigh, when she grazes it over your clothed nipple, the vibration a pleasure on your breast. “it tickles.” you breathily laugh, your stomach shuddering along with the device.

“tickles?” she laughs against your lips, smooching at the corner of them amorously. her elbow propping herself up, and you watch as she grazes it repeatedly over your nipple; watching as the fabric starts raising slightly when it hardens.

the vibrations start teasingly streamlining down to your underwear, wetness so evident when your clothed slit engulfs the metal.

“gonna put it on your clit, my love..” she whispers, as if she’s asking for your permission, your guidance.

her breath ghosts your cheek as her gaze focuses on your thighs - the heaven between them. the way your dripping cunt swallows it, blissful sensations on your swollen and clothed clit when she applies pressure.

“oh..” you whisper shakily, your hips instinctively and subtly rutting into it. because you want more.

“oh?” she repeats, eyebrows arching momentarily. she experiments, fingertips guiding the device - circling, tapping and grazing your clit.

it’s when she pulls the dampened fabric to the side, holding the vibrator down onto your hood that you seem rather eager. “wait. keep it-keep it there.” you sigh, thighs twitching. you feel your core tightening, clit pulsing with it's own lustrous heartbeat, and your hips subconsciously rolling into it. “keep it-there..”

“feels good, baby?” her lips subtly turn upwards into something you could only describe as a snarky smirk, tongue resting between her teeth.

you’re focused, ankles quivering and your abdomen tensing repeatedly from the ecstasy. you hear her mumble again through the concentration, her irises narrowed at your body’s reaction. “shaking so much, holy shit.”

your breathing is a little jagged, and you’re clutching at her wrist, making sure she doesn’t move or mettle up that teasing courage of hers to deny you what you so desperately want need. “just don’t move it..” you gasp, your back arching into the vibrations.

you scan her features through the haze; pretty verdant eyes tainted with desire, the fruitful shape of her lips, and that fucking scar slicing her eyebrow. she's wearing that stupid black shirt you like so much, and has that stupid hairstyle you love. “you’re so hot..” you whisper faintly, impulse that reflects your innate need to finish spilling out. “i’m gonna-fuck. i’m gonna ride your fucking face after this..”

“yeah?” she arches her eyebrows, voice a pitch higher, as if she’s challenging you. mocking you, even.

“uh huh.. gonna-i’m gonna-“ you try to think of what to say, but nothing other than your whimpering blither seeping from your helpless lips. and so she interrupts you,

“gonna what, baby?” she whispers, and you know for sure now - she's definitely mocking you. you look down to her hand between your thighs; watching the tendons that manifest her slender wrist start to twitch, those admirable veins framing her knuckles.

your impending orgasm is obvious by how tremulous your body reacts, her fingers amping up the vibrations as she presses it deeper onto your clitoral hood.

"oh, that's it. just let go, feel it.." she whispers, her free hand slithering down to your tremoring hip, measuring up the clenching and troubled muscles within them. her mouth is watering, she doesn't realise it until she swallows back her saliva.

she wants nothing more than to suck at your clit, coat you with her, slurp up your taste so disgustingly that you wouldn't be able to look at her the same tomorrow.

her free hand glides towards your slit, your thick juices coating her slim fingers so seductively. you hear her hum, a low and guttural moan, as you feel one of them slew inside your hole. it contracts so welcomingly around her finger, and it's so easy for her to slide another in.

"m sorry, baby.. i should've asked.." she whispers when she hears your troubled whine, but its not troubled in the sense you don't want it, it's troubled in the sense that you've never understood how fucking good it feels to be stuffed with her fingers.

so you shake your head with difficulty, trying to notion to her that it's fine, she can do as she pleases.

so she teasingly twines them upwards, feeling the harsh vibrations of the toy on your clit internally against your walls. "you feel that?" she asks softly, her voice silk.

"more.. just-just a little more.." you exhale unstably, so desperate to feel her against your most sensitive nerves, so guiding and patient with her. she takes your words, absorbs them with gratitude.

"more, my love.. i got you.." she's also unsteady with her breath, and just like your desperation, she's desperate to impress.

you feel her curl further against your spongy and quivering walls, eyes rolling back as she gradually fucks you with her fingers. "like that, pretty girl?"

"uh huh.. uh-like that.. like-oh fuck, ellie, baby-"

she can tell you're gonna come by how choked up your breaths are, and how rigid your body feels under her hands. "nice and easy, nice and easy.." she whispers, and you suddenly feel her wet tongue on your stomach, streamlining up to your abdomen and leaving a trail.

you can hear your own thighs walloping against her hand, your cunt squelching with every appreciative pump of her fingers. and ellie does what ellie does best, she talks you through it.

"thas' it, feel what i'm doing to you. just relax.."

"you whining for me?”

and it's suddenly too much, your eyes rolling back and head digging further into the fleecy pillow. "please please please please-" you're begging, pleading like a whore for it. you feel her tongue lick selfishly at your sternum, your shirt riding up and the air whipping against your piping hot skin.

when you look down to watch her tongue start relentlessly flicking at your nipple, her eyes dreamily shut, the sneezelike sensation in your core possesses everything in your body.

you're coming so aggressively, back arching into her as she keeps the vibrator on your messy folds - only this time, grazing it directly over your overstimulated clit, her fingers still urging you to your overbrimming limit.

you're whining like a mess, how she likes it.

she’s trying to hold you down, or at least stabilise you when you come, her fingers seeping out of your cunt and clutching at your shaking hips.

"i know it feels good, i know.." she murmurs against your skin, goosebumps littering your chest and arms. her fingers are glossed with your cum, thumb tracing patterns into your waist.

you’re trembling so much that she keeps losing grip.

she decreases the vibrations drastically to aid your oversensitivity, but keeps the device buried against your clit; your underwear slowly going back over your drenched slit as she lets go.

you’re confused at first, shuffling around uncomfortably when you feel your underwear soak up your cum, your clit still getting ambushed from the low vibrations.

but she’s not one to disappoint, stripping off her sweatpants and her bare thighs smoothing against yours as she situates her bare and drooling cunt against you.

your thigh is hoisted against her clothed abdomen, and you can feel the dips of her lanky muscle contract slightly. she’s worked herself up.

“ride my face in a minute, baby— i just.. i need this..” she sighs urgently, feeling the wetness of your underwear; she’s thirsty for it, dehydrated for it.

her clit is purple and erect, subtly grinding against your underwear, the vibrations humming through the fabric and stimulating her so divinely. the tone in her arms and the impulsive rolling of her hips, her stomach rubbing against your bare and piping hot thigh.

fuck, you like her using you like this. so selfish, self-serving.

you’re starting to uncontrollably tremor again, her movements forcing the vibrator against your overwhelmed clit. “i’ll be quick, pretty—i’ll be quick-“ she gasps, delectable lips parted.

her rutting hips are becoming sloppier, the bed frame starting to rock against the wall and creak.

“ellie—ellie, please- please hurry, it’s too much..” you whine, because the overstimulation is too shattering for you to orgasm again. but you’re trying to cherish the high of watching her face scrunch from abundant pleasure and yearning, the prize of hearing her guttural whimpers.

and it’s all so worth it, the torture of sensory overload, when her thighs start quivering against yours. her fingers clenching your thigh so frantically, her frenzied state erupting as she orgasms.

“mmph-holy shit-‘mm baby—“ she gasps, lips parted erotically against your knee, the adrenaline forcing her fingers to twitch around your thighs.

she’s still rutting against you, bathing through the last remaining ripples of her orgasm, before she takes note of your raw state. her fingers are delicate, sliding your swamped underwear down your legs and turning the vibrator off. it’s submerged in your cum, sweat and enjoyment.

“are you okay? was that too much?” she asks softly, hands gently squeezing your kneecaps in reassurance. she’s not sure why, but now that her impulsive drive to finish on your vibrating pussy is satisfied and fulfilled, she has some worried aftertaste on her tongue.

worried that she pushed your boundaries, or didn’t consider your feelings.

“no, you idiot. that was-“ you sigh, covering your dazed eyes with your arm. “that was so fucking hot.”

you hear her relieved laugh, and it’s silent for a few seconds. nothing but the sound of the light drizzles of rain outside, the balance of your relaxed and seduced breaths.

“still wanna ride my face, ma’am?” you hear her ask, not ignoring the tinge of hope in her tone. and so you laugh, looking up at her. she has a hue of mauve under her eyes, bags bags that demonstrate her careless sleep schedule.

but she’s stunning. and she makes those eyebags annoyingly sexy.

“i always wanna ride your face..” you mumble, unable to resist the spirited smile that tugs your lips upwards when you see the rosiness in her face bloom. she’s excited, she’s a loser for it.

“but.. maybe.. in the shower.. i’m like—“ you mumble, sluggishly sitting up, discomfort when you look down and see thick strings of your arousal between your thighs. “i’m hot, and sweaty, and gross.”

you look at her, and you’re strangely flustered by how she maintains eye contact. it’s out of character, even for ellie, but she’s jumped through the hurdles of being awkward with you.

all of the timidity and shyness has been bleached; she looks at you with such intimate love. “okay.. fine by me, ma’am..” she nods, lazily blinking through her infatuation.

and for the first time, it’s you that can’t uphold the eye contact. your eyes darting anywhere but hers - her collarbone, freckled cheeks fanned by her lashes, those admirable hands that are still resting on your knees.

they trace tender and doting patterns into your shins, nails that tickle and gently scratch your skin.

and when you look back up, she’s still gazing, nailing that romantic and worshipping gaze straight through you.

fuck, stop looking at me like that, williams.

“i love you..” you whisper, hands resting on her shoulders, before gliding up to cup her cheeks. her skin is also piping hot. “you’re so good to me.”

she looks calm on the outside, but on the inside, it’s absolute fucking havoc. her heartbeat hammering against her chest, eyes softening, and her hands reluctantly hovering above yours.

her palms rest on your wrists, and she slowly tilts her head to kiss your fingers, unblinking eyes that are still staring at you. her whisper is faint, anticipatory, and vanilla.

“i love you more, pretty..”

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie x reader #ellie williams #the last of us x reader

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rafayelxsylusho · 3 months ago

Text

LADS men and their kink$.

Xavier🌟

Hair pulling: He loves it when you take charge, especially when his face is buried in between your pretty thighs, he thinks there is nothing better than feeling your fingers tangling, tugging, holding him in place as he eats your pussy The slight sting of pain as you grip tighter, urging him closer, demanding more.. and when he is buried deep inside you, he wants your nails digging into his scalp as he takes you hard and fast.

Face fucking: He loves seeing your pretty lips stretched wide around his cock to take him in, the softness of them against his shaft, taking him so deep and feeling your throat swallow around him, fighting to take him deeper even as he fucks into your face. Seeing tears spring to your eyes, your makeup running down your face as he fuck your throat raw. Knowing he reduced you to a sloppy, desperate mess.

He likes hearing the obscene sounds of his cock pounding your throat, the slick, sloppy noises of you choking on his dick, t's the headiest fucking turn-on.

Cockwarming: Feeling your soft, pliant body mold around his hard, aching length, It's like your pussy is welcoming him home, embracing him, enveloping him in the most exquisite way possible. He loves the way your walls flutter and clench around him, like they never want to let him go, like they're trying to keep him deep inside you. He likes this especially when he just needs to feel you, if he is exhausted after training he just wants you sitting on his lap, cock buried deep inside while he savours the feeling.

Cunnilingus: We all know he is a thighs man, he loves the feeling of your thighs trembling against his ears, hearing your breathy cries and needy whimpers echoing off the walls as he devours your pussy like a starving man at a feast. He takes pride in reducing you to a writhing, mewling mess, in knowing that he is the one driving you to the brink of ecstasy with just his mouth and tongue. But most of all, he loves worshipping you like this. Showing you with every lap of his tongue, every press of his lips, every suckle and nibble, just how much he fucking adores you. His deep blue eyes never leave your face.

Zayne🥼

Orgasm denial: This man will give you the world if you ask him to but ooohh how he loves knowing that he has the power to unravel you, to push you to the very brink of madness with pleasure, and yet hold you back, keep you teetering on that edge. He feels there's a certain thrill in pushing you to your limits, in watching your body tremble and your face contort as you beg so sweetly for release. He likes knowing that he is the one in control, the one dictating your pleasure, that with a word, a touch, he can either grant you the explosive climax you crave or deny you and leave you aching, wanting, needing. After all it's like he says "Patience is a virtue"

Bondage: Its the rush of knowing that he can do anything he wants to your body and you can only lie there and take it. Bondage is about trust and he loves knowing that you entrust yourself completely to his care, his guidance, his mercy, even as he pushes your boundaries, even as he takes you to the very limits of your endurance, you still have faith in him, faith that he would never truly hurt you, that he will always keep you safe, sated and utterly, completely satisfied. And he also likes to see your wrists and ankles bound, the delicate skin flushed and slightly chafed from the friction of the rope or satin ties.

Dry humping: Dry humping you in that damn rocking chair. It's the perfect combination of intimacy and tease. Having you straddled across his lap, your soft, pliant body pressed against his. The rocking chair provides the ideal rhythm, the constant, sensual undulation of bodies grinding together, building a delicious friction and pressure that sets your nerves alight. The way your cunt grinds against his cock, the damp heat of your arousal seeping through to soak his pants, marking him and letting him feel how fucking desperate you are.

Temp play: The contrast of heat and cold, he likes the way it makes your skin flush and your nerves sing, your body both yearning for and recoiling from the sensation. Watching your nipples harden and your skin prickle, seeing your body's instinctive reaction to the temperature shift is a fucking erotic spectacle to him. He loves the way the heat makes your cunt drip and your juices flow, your body preparing itself, readying itself for the pleasure to come and the way the coolness makes you clench and flutter, your greedy hole aching to be stretched and filled and stuffed full. The contrast is like a drug, a high like no other.

Caleb🪐

Uniforms: He likes the way the uniform looks on him, the way it showcases the power and the strength of his body, the way it screams that he is a man of action, a man who can protect you, cherish you, and fuck you in equal measure. The uniform represents a part of his life, a duty, a responsibility and the thrill of defiling it, of marking it with your touch, your scent, your juices drives him crazy. Besides he knows you like the way his uniform looks when it's slightly askew, his hair tousled, his shirt unbuttoned, as he pins you against the wall and fucks you hard, fast and deep.

Spit: Maybe it's the depravity of it, the absolute filth, the way it marks you as his, desperate for any taste of him, no matter how degrading. He loves watching you open your pretty mouth, your lips part and your tongue flick out to catch the first drop of his saliva, it drives him fucking crazy to know that you're so fucking eager, so hungry, that you'll take whatever he gives you, no matter what it is. Once he feels your throat under his thumb, swallowing, he is done for.

Overstimulation: He knows that even as you beg for a break, for a moment to breathe, you still crave more. Knows that your body is so hungry for it, greedy for every touch, every kiss, every thrust. He gets a rush knowing that he can take you to the edge of oblivion and back again, as many times as he wants, that he is the one dragging you kicking and screaming into a world of ecstasy you never even knew existed.

Brat taming: He hates it when you get all defiant and bratty, but he loves seeing you go from mouthy and defiant to a begging, cock-drunk mess in his arms. He loves every second of taming your fiery spirit, of breaking you down and building you back up exactly how he wants you. Every time it's like a red flag waved in front of a bull, a fucking challenge he can't resist taking up.

Rafayel 🐡

Choking: He gets hard the moment he sees your eyes roll back, your cheeks flushed, your mouth open and your tongue lolling out, it's like watching a piece of art come to life, a masterpiece painted in the colors of desperation and need. He loves feeling your pulse jump and race beneath his fingers, knowing that he is the one making your heart pound, making your lungs burn, making your world narrow down to the simple, primal sensation of his hands around your throat.

Semi public: He likes playing with fire after all, that's why he loves the thrill of it, the adrenaline that races through his veins when he has you pinned against a wall, or bent over a desk, knowing that anyone could walk by and see him claiming you, fucking you, ruining you in broad fucking daylight. He knows that no matter where you are, no matter who might see you, all you can focus on is the feeling of his cock splitting you open and claiming you.

Eye contact: Looking into your eyes while he is buried inside you, while he is claiming you, ruining you, wrecking you it's the most intimate and the most erotic work of art he could ever create

He needs to see your face when you come undone. He needs to watch the way your eyes glaze over with pleasure, the way they flutter shut and then fly open wide as you cum. He needs to witness the way your pupils dilate with each thrust, each push, each drag of his cock along your walls. And the way you look at him when you're coming, the way your eyes go blank, the way you just stare at him like he's the only thing that matters, the only thing that exists in that moment.

Wax play: He loves seeing the way the hot, molten wax paints your skin, watching it drip and slide over every dip and curve of your body, it's like an artist watching his masterpiece come to life, and the way it feels, the way it coats your body like a second skin, trapping your heat, your desire, your desperation. He likes to know that he's the one shaping it, the one molding it, the one creating something beautiful and erotic and completely for his pleasure.

Sylus 🐦‍⬛

Size: He is big in every sense of the word, he likes to see how small your hand is compared to his, how his much larger hand wraps around your slender throat, feeling your pulse race beneath his fingers as he squeezes, it's like holding your life in his hands, owning your very existence. He loves the way his cock splits your little mouth open, stretching your jaw wide, forcing you to take every inch of his thick, hard length. Seeing you gag and choke on his size, feeling your throat convulse around him as you struggle to take it all.

Body worship: He likes to map every single inch of your body with his hands, his lips, his tongue, he wants to learn it by heart, to know it better than he knows his own name. He want to worship at the altar of your flesh, to offer up every single sinful, delicious prayer he can think of to the goddess that is your body. This man could spend hours, days, fucking years just exploring your body with his hands, with his mouth, with every inch of his being.

Dirty talk: He loves to watch your eyes widen, see your cheeks blush, hear your breath hitch, knowing that he can reduce you to a needy, desperate, wanton mess with just his words alone turns him on. This man tells you exactly what he is going to do to your body. He wants you to hear every filthy, depraved, utterly fucking obscene thing that crosses his mind as he imagines all the ways he is going to claim you.

Breeding: he wants to fuck you full of his cum, he wants to pump you so full that you're dripping with it, that it's leaking out of you, that you're drenched in the proof of how thoroughly he bred you, but even better is the idea of pushing it all back inside with his fingers. And just the thought of putting a baby in you, of watching your body change and grow and blossom with new life is enough to drive him insane.

ALL 5 OF THEM 🐦‍⬛🐡🪐🥼🌟

Marking: He loves the red imprints of his fingers on your hips, ass and thighs, teeth marks littering the lush curves of your tits and neck, it's like a brand, a tattoo of his ownership etched into your flesh. He wants the world to look at you and know that your body belongs to him.

#love and deepspace #lnds #lads #lads smut #lads x reader #lnds x reader #lads x you #lnds x you #love and deepspace reader #lads sylus #lads zayne #lads xavier #lads rafayel #lnds smut #lnds xavier #lnds zayne #lnds sylus #lnds caleb #lnds rafayel

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17020 · 7 months ago

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first kisses with okarun, momo, & jiji are slightly different.

okarun's first kiss is actually him acting on impulse and quickly pecking your lips goodbye, walking away before he can even process what happened and he falls to the floor in confusion and utter shock. when he tries to kiss you again a few weeks later, his eyes are shut close and his lips are puckered. he waits until you close the gap between you and him, and you can feel how hard he's puckering his lips.

okarun needs guidance, as he was hit with a 2 in 1: no knowledge, and no practice. your first kisses with okarun are about learning the basics, as well as getting comfortable with each other. when you finally kiss him with all your might, you breathe out one word: ken. he never knew that hearing his own name after months of not doing so could feel so good, especially since it rolled off your tongue so naturally.

momo is very eager. when she notices you're leaning in to kiss her, her eyes flutter shut and so do yours. however, you weren't really expecting your puckered lips meeting her open mouth. from all the media she's consumed and previous (but limited) experience, momo really seemed to dig the french. when she notices the clear miscommunication between you and her, she apologizes and laughs it off before kissing you nice and slow.

second time's where she goes all out, asking you to recreate some of her favorite scenes in movies she watched as a child. your first kisses with momo are all about experimentation, dabbling in what both you and her like, as well as finding out which ways you can kiss her best with seiko kicking her bedroom door open every five minutes.

jiji's kisses are short, sweet and fun. his first kiss with you is him practicing his silly faces while getting closer and closer to you every time his expression changes, until he leans in and places a sweet kiss on your lips. jiji's kisses are all about being playful, so at the start of your relationship, he never asks for a kiss directly. you have to deal with his many games, each one ending in his lips locking with yours. he also takes advantage of treats like ice cream and fries to kiss you at first, or even cliche snacks like pocky.

his second kiss with you happens when he asks you to share a can of ginger ale with two straws, asking you to lean down to drink from it at the same time as he does, with him pulling the can down and pecking your lips in return. jiji likes to make you work for his kisses, even if the tedious 'work' is just indulging him with his savory and sweet quests.

(new & open) taglist: @stunies @okkotsushi @moon-cakiie @maruflix @nyxypoo @littleplantfreak @heartkaji @vinomino please keep in mind that if you filled the old taglist with all the series i’ll most likely tag you in everything i post 🪷 if you have the time , please fill the new form. sorry for the inconvenience!

#dandadan x reader #dan da dan x reader #momo x reader #okarun x reader #ken takakura x reader #jiji x reader #jin enjoji x reader

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monstersholygrail · 4 months ago

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When Demon Priest saw you, an adorable Lamb Hybrid, enter his church, he didn’t mistake you for an angel. How could he? With your cute little lamb ears and your short lamb tail. No, he knew you were a gift sent from the heavens straight away. A living messenger and connection between him and heaven. A gift meant for him. You were to be his, all his and only his.

It doesn’t take long for him to gain your trust. You’re such a sweet and gentle little lamb. So incredibly naive. Meant to be worshipped and adored. He spends all the time with you he can and when he’s not with you, he’s planning everything he must to take you far away from here. To protect you from danger and keep you all to himself.

He figures he just has to kidnap you and you’ll be safe to spread your word to all the lost lamb and sheep a part of his flock. You being their guiding light as you are his. Even if you don’t know it yet, he knows you’ll fill this role perfectly.

You have to. You’re his gift, after all.

Demon Priest actually leaves the church for you. So sure that they won’t understand, won’t see what he sees in you. He disappears with you into the night and takes you deep into the woods where anyone unwanted couldn’t find you and you couldn’t escape. With him, he brings your apostles. A few of his flock who trust him enough to know your importance and follow him anywhere.

They now all serve you, spreading the news of your arrival and guiding newcomers all to your divine light. Eventually their numbers grow too great and they have to start clearing trees and building tents for everyone to live in.

You are, of course, kept in the most lavish tent where you’re kept away from everyone else’s prying eyes. Only to be seen when guidance is needed. Demon Priest being the only one permitted entrance into your tent. There isn’t a moment where they’re not worshipped and adored.

At your beck and call, Demon Priest doesn’t hesitate to satisfy your every need. Every time you begin to question his intentions or dare to ask questions about some nonsense like going home, Demon Priest purrs in your ear, telling you that you don’t actually wanna leave him.

You’re just nervous but he’ll always be there for you. When everyone else has abandoned you, not even bothering to contact you, he’s stayed by your side. Not giving you any idea that he had taken your phone when you were asleep and blocked the numbers of everyone you cared about. He was all you needed.

He pushes you gently on the bed, sinking his cock into your warm slick walls to quiet the silly little voices in your head. Don’t worry, he’ll fuck em’ out of you. And make sure they stay out.

Your mewls are so pretty as he fucks you like the demon he is. He doesn’t bother trying to hide his demonic features he plunges his cock deep into your core. Growling and snarling, going feral over the way you feel wrapped around his length, suffocating him so brilliantly. Your pussy truly heavenly. Your back arches, meeting his thrusts as you scream and Demon Priest looks down at you in awe. Seeing his own ascension in your form.

“Oh, my sweet herald. The things you do to me, the things you’ll do for the world. F-feel so—mmph— f-fuuucking good,” Demon Priest rasps, groaning as your cunt flutters around his cock like it’s agreeing with him.

He exhales sharply and picks up his pace, rutting into you as if trying to consume you, become one with you. His features growing more demonic as he gets closer to the edge. He wraps a clawed hand around your throat, bringing you closer to him.

“What say you, love? You gonna stop questioning me and be my good little lamb?” He asks, spitting the word ‘lamb’ like a curse.

You whine, nodding as much as you can. Needing to cum so bad and you know he’s purposefully keeping you right on the edge until you agree.

“Then do as you’re told and cum.”

As if your body is truly at his command, the tight cord in your belly instantly snaps and your screaming as you clench around his length and cum harder than you ever have in your life. Your vision flashing white as your orgasm crashes through you. Demon Priest roars as he follows you over the edge, filling up your pussy with his hot semen.

Demon Priest sags against you, nuzzling into your throat and inhaling deeply. Finding deep satisfaction in how his scent nearly completely overpowers your own. Everyone will know you’re his. His claws massage the tremors from your sides but your body has him already getting hard again. He knows he’ll have to take you again soon. But now there’s work to be done.

“Come, precious lamb. Let us address your followers and make your next proclamation,” he murmurs sweetly in your ear. And you’re too fucked out to put up any resistance, his words being the only thing to fill up your empty mind.

For with you he’s no longer Demon Priest, but Demon Cult Leader.

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beloveds-embrace · 18 days ago

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(p3 fae poly 141 x cursed human reader) || Masterlist || cw: angst

When it came, it did so in layers; not all at once like fire razing down a forest, but like snowfall. Gentle and inevitable, each melting flake a small forgetting.

First, it was names.

You would look at Kyle, his familiar grin flashing like sunlight through trees, and call him by a title from a kingdom long swallowed by moss and time. You would laugh at his expression, uncertain why the sound tasted strange in your mouth, and the room would grow unbearably heavy, as if the walls themselves could sense the fracture forming inside you.

You’d ask Johnny to bring you tea, then wonder aloud- like a child startled awake- if you even liked tea anymore.

You stopped calling Simon by anything at all, not out of cruelty, but because your mind could no longer find the thread of him. As if the loom of your memories had begun unraveling, one golden thread at a time.

You even forgot Simon’s face one day.

He finds you curled in the hollow beside the singing well, where fae voices forever hummed through the mist. The stones were slick with memory, the air heavy with time and sorrow. You were wrapped around yourself, a trembling creature of light and loss.

“I didn’t know who you were.” You whispered when he sat down beside you.

He nodded, his eyes dark wells of unspoken grief. “That’s all right.”

“I thought you were going to take me.” You looked down at your trembling hands. “I thought… you were here to end it.”

“You’ve never been anything but safe with me.” He said. His voice was steady like old oaks, but he didn’t speak again for a long time, and neither did you.

The castle then watched it continue.

its stones bones shivered in mourning as it saw the way your footsteps faltered in the mornings now, how you stood at the edge of the corridor with your hand against the wall, trying to remember which direction leads to the garden and which leads to the throne room. It murmured gentle guidance beneath your feet, shifted the stones so you always turned the right way. But you still hesitates. Still frowned, still murmur apologies under your breath.

“Sorry, sorry… I knew this. I knew this.”

The will-o'-wisps that once flickered mischievous in the shadows now clustered around you like living stars, their tiny bodies pulsing gently as they guided you step by step, glowing a mournful silver instead of their usual playful blue.

You asked John one evening- while he read to you from a worn book in your shared chamber, his voice a steady beacon in your fogging world- if the stars had always looked like that. The question was so soft, so simple, and yet it cracked something in him, because you used to name the constellations like old friends.

You were afraid of shadows that weren’t there yesterday. Of reflections that looked a second too slow in catching up. Of voices you knew, but couldn’t name.

Next, it was time itself.

Not hours or days- years. You’d call for your parents in the twilight, confused and teary when they didn’t come, not remembering they’d passed so long ago not even the tree spirits remembered their faces. You'd clutch letters to your chest like they'd just arrived, unaware they'd been yellowing on your shelf for decades.

You’d forget your own mirror image.

You’d wake screaming from dreams you couldn’t describe. You’d shrink from your reflection, pressing trembling hands over your face and whispering, “That’s not me. That can’t be me. I was- I never- John, John? John, please-“

One night, you stood in the courtyard barefoot in the snow, robe fluttering like moonlight. You stared at the moon and asked no one in particular: “… Am I a prisoner here?”

Thrain was with you, as he always was. He nuzzled your shoulder in response, trying to soothe the fear rising within you. You gripped his fur and leaned against him like a child lost in a storm.

And gods, the way they ached.

Johnny laughed louder now, louder and wilder like the summer storms of the old world, trying to cover the shattering silence your confusion left behind. He called you "lass" in every sentence so you'd feel anchored to something. He walked a step behind you everywhere, pretending it wasn’t because he was worried you might forget where you were.

Ghost began carrying tokens- little things. Ribbons, dried flowers, silver buttons and tinkling bells. Each one had a story of you, and each time you forgot one, he’d hand it to you gently and say, “Yours, love. You gave it to me.” He’d say, like it was a cherished secret between the two of you.

Gaz took to humming your favorite tunes beneath his breath as he worked, even though you no longer sang with him. When you looked at him in confusion, he just smiled and said, “You always liked this one, remember?”

They stayed with you, every hour they could. But John- John suffered.

He sat with you for hours even when you didn’t speak- when words were too difficult and you forgot what clouds were called and what shapes they were. He kissed your hands when they trembled. When you woke in the night and begged to go home, not knowing what "home" meant anymore, he held you close and whispered: “You’re already there, darling. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

But, still you were slipping like mist through their fingers.

And the castle mourned with them. The walls dimmed, the corridors wept condensation like tears. Will-o-wisps flickered low and quiet, guiding you slowly even when you no longer asked. They stuck to your clothes and your palms, and did not have the heart to leave you alone.

And Thrain watched with the most solemn of gazes.

When you grew too afraid of your own chambers, he stood beneath your window all night. When you refused to eat because you thought the food was poisoned- memories of old war resurfacing from broken pathways- he let you feed him first, licking berries from your hand until you giggled faintly and took a bite yourself. He walked the castle grounds with you in silence, letting you lean against his massive shoulder when your steps faltered.

But none of it stopped the slow unraveling.

One morning, you looked into a mirror and didn’t recognize the face staring back. You reached out and touchd the glass, brows furrowed. “Who is she?”

Kyle was behind you, hands full of ribbons meant for your hair, and he hesitated. “That’s… you, love.”

You blinked, tilting your head. Slowly, a strange expression on your face, you pulled back. “She looks sad.”

He swallowed hard. “You’ve been hurting. But we’re going to fix it.”

“You promise?”

He knelt, took your hand, and kissed your knuckles. “All of us. Every damn one.”

Another day, you looked at John- his beard newly trimmed, his eyes soft and hopeful- and asked him quietly, your hands twisting the soft fabric of your dress. “Are you my husband?”

His face broke, the way cliffs crumble slowly into the sea.

You don’t remember the look he gave you. But you remember that night’s dream- a whisper of a man in a blue cloak with hands like warmth and a voice like thunder saying: “Yes, love. Always.”

And somewhere in your heart, you think you believed it. Even if you didn’t understand why, even if you didnt remember when.

“Will you still love me when I forget what love is?”

“Yes, love. Always.”

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flux1563 · 18 days ago

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Truth Or Dare ft Eunbi and Minju pt 1

Tags : squirting, creampie

Words : 7k

Minju stumbled upon a forgotten corner of the city park, her heart racing from the excitement of the day. Her latest play had just wrapped up, and the applause still echoed in her ears. The air was crisp with the scent of blooming flowers, a stark contrast to the stuffy theatre she had left behind. She needed a moment to breathe, to absorb the success that had just become a reality.

Her thoughts drifted to Mr. Y/N, her ever-supportive manager. He had worked tirelessly behind the scenes, ensuring every detail was perfect. His guidance had been the backbone of the play, and she knew she couldn't have done it without him. A small smile played on her lips as she thought of his stoic face, which she had caught breaking into a proud grin when she took her final bow.

Eunbi, her best friend, was another person who came to mind. They had shared countless dreams and tears together, and now, Minju's dreams were coming true. She knew Eunbi would be over the moon about the play's success. But there was something else, a tiny secret Minju held close to her heart—Eunbi's hidden feelings for Mr. Y/N. It was an unspoken tension that had woven its way into their friendship, a thread of jealousy Minju tried not to acknowledge.

As she sat on the bench, her phone buzzed with a message from Mr. Y/N. He suggested a small celebration, just the two of them. A quiet drink to toast to the play's success. It was a perfect idea, but Minju's mind wandered to Eunbi, who was probably at home, waiting to hear all about it. A pang of guilt hit her. How could she leave her best friend out of this moment?

Minju's fingers hovered over the keyboard, typing out a reply. "How about we invite Eunbi?" she wrote. "It's only fair she joins us. She's been there through everything." She hit send and took a deep breath, watching as the message vanished into the digital abyss. The thought of the three of them together made her stomach flutter, but she knew it was the right thing to do.

Mr. Y/N's response was swift. "Great idea," he texted back. "Let's make it a party of three."

Minju felt a rush of relief. It was decided. They would celebrate together. She quickly called Eunbi, who squealed with excitement upon hearing the news. "I'll be right there!" she said, her voice bubbly over the line.

When they arrived at Mr. Y/N's apartment, it was as elegant and well-kept as he was. The lights were dim, casting a warm glow that danced across the sleek, modern furniture. Soft jazz music played in the background, setting a relaxed and intimate atmosphere. A bottle of champagne chilled in an ice bucket on the counter, and three flutes were already arranged, ready to be filled.

Mr. Y/N popped the cork with a flourish, the sound echoing in the quiet apartment like a miniature firework. The golden liquid bubbled and foamed, filling the air with the sweet scent of victory and celebration. They clinked their glasses together, the sound ringing out like a toast to their shared success. The first sip was cold and bubbly on Minju's tongue, the taste of triumph in every fizz.

The music grew louder, and Minju couldn't resist the rhythm anymore. She set her glass down and began to dance, her body moving freely to the smooth melody. Eunbi joined her, her laughter infectious as they spun around the room. Mr. Y/N watched them for a moment, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, before he set the bottle aside and took the dance floor too. They moved together, their bodies in sync with the music and their spirits soaring.

As the night went on, the drinks flowed freely, and the conversation grew louder. The tension between Minju and Eunbi dissipated with every laugh and shared glance. They were three friends, celebrating a shared victory, the air thick with joy and camaraderie. The champagne loosened their inhibitions, and the dance floor grew crowded with their laughter and spilled drinks. The music wove through them, binding them together in a moment that felt suspended in time.

Mr. Y/N's living room was a whirlwind of movement and sound. They danced to songs that spanned decades, each tune bringing back a flood of memories and emotions. Eunbi's eyes sparkled as she spun around, her hair flying in every direction. Minju felt a warmth spread through her chest, watching her friend so happy and carefree.

The night grew late, and their laughter grew softer. The music played on, a gentle backdrop to their conversation as they sat down, their glasses refilled and their cheeks flushed. They talked about the play, about the future, and about their friendship. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated happiness, a celebration of not just the play's success, but of the bond they had built over the years.

And as they sipped their champagne, the unspoken tension between Eunbi and Mr. Y/N grew stronger, like a bassline that had been playing under the surface all along. Minju could feel it, but she chose to ignore it, focusing instead on the joy of the moment. After all, it was a night to remember, a night where dreams had come true and friendships had been tested and proven strong.

The three of them sat there, the music a gentle hum in the background, the bubbles of champagne tickling their noses, and the weight of their secrets floating just out of reach. For now, they were just friends, basking in the glow of success. But Minju couldn't shake the feeling that the next act of their lives was just about to begin, and it would be one filled with twists and turns she could never have predicted.

On a whim, she spoke up, "What about we play truth or dare together?"

Mr. Y/N's eyebrows shot up, a glint of surprise in his eyes. "Truth or dare?" he echoed.

"Why not?" Minju said with a mischievous smile. "It's a great way to end the night!"

Mr. Y/N shrugged, his expression a mix of amusement and wariness. "Alright, I'll start," Eunbi said, her eyes shining with excitement. She pointed at Minju. "Truth or dare?"

Minju took a deep breath and decided to go with truth. She had always been the more cautious one, preferring to keep her feelings close to her chest. "Truth," she said firmly.

Eunbi leaned in, her eyes glinting with mischief. "When was the last time you had sex?"

Minju's cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, and she stuttered out, "One week ago," feeling the heat of the question even as she said it. She took a gulp of her champagne, hoping to dull the mortification that washed over her.

Mr. Y/N's gaze remained unwaveringly on Eunbi, his eyes questioning. "Truth or dare?" he asked, his tone even.

Eunbi's cheeks flushed a delicate pink, but she held his gaze without faltering. "Truth," she said, her voice steady.

Mr. Y/N leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving hers. "Who's the person you fantasize about having sex with the most?"

The room grew quieter, the music fading into the background. Eunbi's cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink, and she took a moment before looking directly at Mr. Y/N. "You, Mr. Y/N," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. The words hung in the air like a confession, a secret laid bare.

Mr. Y/N's smile froze on his face, his eyes widening slightly before he composed himself. He took a sip of his champagne, his gaze never leaving Eunbi's. "Well," he said after a pause, his voice a little rougher than usual, "now that's quite the truth to share."

The air grew thick with unspoken feelings, and Minju felt a knot form in her stomach. She had hoped to ease the tension with a harmless game, but now it felt like she had thrown a grenade into the room. Eunbi's confession hung in the air, unexploded, but the fuse was burning fast.

Mr. Y/N cleared his throat, the silence stretching taut. "Truth," he said finally, his eyes meeting Minju's.

Eunbi felt a jolt of surprise at his choice. "Who was the last person you had sex with?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

Minju's eyes widened, and she felt her heart drop. She had never thought the game would go this far, but here they were, their deepest secrets laid bare.

"Minju," Mr. Y/N said, his voice softer than she had ever heard it. She felt his gaze on her, but she couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes. Instead, she took another sip of her champagne, the bubbles feeling sharp and bitter as they went down her throat.

Eunbi's laugh was forced, a nervous giggle that didn't quite mask the tension in the room. "So, beside her manager, you were her...?" she trailed off, her voice cracking.

Minju's cheeks flamed, and she downed her champagne in one go. The alcohol hit her harder than she expected, making her words tumble out in a rush. "It was amazing!" she exclaimed, her voice carrying a little too loudly. "He was so...so good, I couldn't believe it!"

Eunbi's eyes grew wide, and she took a big gulp of her drink, trying to keep up with the sudden shift in the atmosphere. "You guys are serious?" she managed to ask, her voice a mix of shock and excitement.

Mr. Y/N cleared his throat, his cheeks coloring slightly. "It was a one-time thing, a mistake," he said, his voice firm but not unkind. "We both agreed to keep it professional."

The room was silent for a moment, the music seemingly too loud for the quiet that had settled over them. Then, Minju leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But oh my god, he made me squirt for so long!" she said, her eyes wide with wonder. "It was like nothing I've ever felt before!"

Eunbi's eyes darted between them, her own glass of champagne trembling in her hand. She had never heard Minju talk about sex so openly, especially about someone she was supposed to just be friends with. The room spun slightly, the alcohol making her feel both light-headed and strangely invigorated.

"Alright, Eunbi," Minju said with a playful grin, "you chose dare. Time to get wild!"

Eunbi took a deep breath, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. She had always been the more shy and reserved one of the two, but she didn't want to be outdone. "Okay," she whispered, "I'm ready."

Minju leaned in closer, her voice a seductive purr. "I dare you to strip down until you have nothing left to hide," she said, her eyes gleaming with excitement. Eunbi's heart skipped a beat. She had never done anything like this before, but she knew she had to go through with it.

With shaking hands, Eunbi set her glass aside and began to unbutton her shirt, one button at a time. The fabric slipped away, revealing the lacy bra beneath. She felt Mr. Y/N's eyes on her, but she couldn't bring herself to look at him. Instead, she focused on Minju, whose smile grew wider with every piece of clothing that hit the floor.

Finally, she was down to her underwear, her body exposed and vulnerable. She looked up, her cheeks aflame, and met Mr. Y/N's gaze. His expression was unreadable, his eyes dark and intense. She knew he could see her heart racing, could feel the heat radiating from her skin.

"Keep going," Minju urged, her voice thick with excitement. Eunbi took a deep breath and unclasped her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Her breasts, larger than Minju's, bounced slightly from the sudden release, the cool air of the apartment making her nipples tighten. She felt Mr. Y/N's eyes on her, his gaze unyielding, and she couldn't tell if he was appalled or aroused.

With trembling hands, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her underwear, pushing it down over her hips. She stepped out of it, leaving herself completely bare before them. She had never felt so exposed, so...wanted. Her eyes searched Mr. Y/N's, looking for any sign of what he was thinking, but all she found was a heated intensity that sent shivers down her spine.

The room was silent except for the soft jazz playing in the background, each note seeming to amplify the tension. The air was charged with something electric, something she hadn't felt before. She looked at Minju, who was watching her with a look that was half excitement, half concern, and realized that she had gone too far.

Minju's words echoed in her head. "How about you feel Mr. Y/N's skill in sex?" The proposal hung in the air like a question that had no right to be asked, but she found herself unable to look away.

Eunbi's legs parted, almost involuntarily, as she stood before them. She felt a rush of heat between her thighs, her body responding to the intensity in Mr. Y/N's gaze. She didn't say a word, didn't need to. Her actions spoke louder than any confession she could have made. The fabric of the room seemed to stretch tight with the unspoken understanding that this was a pivotal moment, a line that could not be uncrossed.

Without breaking eye contact, Mr. Y/N reached out and cupped her left breast, his thumb brushing over the hardened peak. His touch was firm, sure, and it sent a jolt of electricity through Eunbi's body, making her gasp. She could feel the heat of his hand through her skin, the pressure of his thumb as he teased her. It was a sensation that she had dreamed of for so long, but now that it was real, it was so much more than she had ever imagined.

Minju's voice was a soft whisper from somewhere to her left, "His touch is magic, right?" Eunbi's eyes flickered to her friend, who was watching them with a strange mix of excitement and something else, something that looked suspiciously like hunger. She nodded, unable to form coherent words as Mr. Y/N's other hand joined the first, both now playing with her breasts, kneading and pinching until she was panting with need.

Mr. Y/N leaned in, his breath hot against Eunbi's skin as he whispered, "How was her tits, Minju?" The question hung in the air, a silent challenge. Minju's eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned back in her chair, her own hand sliding up her dress to cup her breast. "Perfect," she said, her voice a sultry purr. "Just the right size to fit in your mouth."

Without missing a beat, Mr. Y/N lowered his head and took Eunbi's right nipple between his lips, sucking gently. The sensation was unlike anything Eunbi had ever felt, and she gasped, her body arching into the touch. His tongue swirled around the sensitive peak, teasing and flicking, while his other hand continued to play with her left breast. The wetness between her thighs grew, soaking the fabric of her dress. She could feel her body betraying her, responding to his touch in a way that was undeniably carnally.

Minju's voice was a soft encouragement beside her. "Look how wet she's getting," she said, her own hand sliding down her body to mimic Mr. Y/N's actions on Eunbi. "Her pussy is begging for you, Mr. Y/N. She's a better squirter than me, I'm sure of it."

Mr. Y/N's eyes shot to Minju, a flash of something unreadable crossing his face. He released Eunbi's nipple with a pop, leaving it glistening with his saliva. "Is that so?" he murmured, his eyes dark with desire.

Minju nodded eagerly. "Oh yes," she said, her hand sliding between her own legs. "You've got to see it. It's like a fountain."

Mr. Y/N's eyes remained on Eunbi, his hand drifting down to the apex of her thighs. With a gentle touch, he slid his fingers along her slit, feeling the slickness of her arousal. Eunbi's legs quivered as he found her clit, his touch sending a wave of pleasure through her body. She threw her head back, moaning uncontrollably as he began to tease her, his movements slow and deliberate.

Minju watched, her eyes glued to the scene before her. She had never seen Eunbi like this, so open and wanton, and it was a powerful aphrodisiac. She could feel her own arousal growing, her panties dampening as she watched Mr. Y/N's hand work its magic on her friend. The sound of Eunbi's moans filled the room, mingling with the music and their own breathless whispers.

Eunbi's eyes fluttered closed, her breath coming in short gasps as Mr. Y/N's fingers danced over her clit. She could feel the pressure building, the tension in her body growing tighter and tighter. With every stroke, she grew wetter, her body begging for release.

"Please keep going, I need to cum," she said, her voice a desperate whisper. Mr. Y/N's eyes never left hers, his own desire clear in their depths. He increased his pace, his thumb rubbing her clit in firm circles that made her hips buck and her legs shake. The pleasure was intense, almost painful in its intensity, but she didn't want it to stop.

Minju watched, her own hand slipping under her dress to mimic his movements. She was so turned on by the sight of her friend's pleasure that she couldn't help but join in, her own breath coming in pants as she touched herself. "You're so close," she murmured, her voice a mix of envy and excitement. "Let it go, Eunbi."

Mr. Y/N's eyes never left Eunbi's, his fingers moving faster, pressing harder against her swollen clit. She whimpered, her body tightening around him as she approached the edge. "Ahh, ahh, I'm going to—" she gasped, her voice trailing off as the orgasm hit her like a wave, crashing over her with a force that made her legs give out.

Her juices spurted out, a geyser of passion that soaked Mr. Y/N's hand and arm, spraying onto Minju's dress in an explosion of pure ecstasy. Minju's eyes widened in shock, and then a wicked grin spread across her face as she took in the sight. Eunbi's body convulsed, her orgasm so powerful that she couldn't help but squirt, her fluids painting a pattern on the floor as she rode the waves of pleasure.

"I told you, she is a better squirter," Minju said, her voice filled with a mix of pride and satisfaction. Mr. Y/N looked up at her, his hand still buried in Eunbi's pussy, his fingers coated in her cum. He couldn't help but laugh, the sound deep and rumbling, the tension in the room finally breaking.

Minju took the moment to stand, her own dress feeling uncomfortably wet against her skin. She reached behind her, unzipping the fabric with an ease that came from years of performing. The dress pooled around her feet, leaving her in nothing but her damp lingerie. She stepped out of the material, her eyes never leaving Eunbi's face, watching the aftershocks of pleasure ripple through her.

"Looks like Eunbi had a little accident," Mr. Y/N said with a smirk, gesturing to Minju's soaked underwear.

Minju giggled, feeling the warmth of her friend's cum seep through the fabric and onto her skin. "Guess it's only fair," she said, her voice playful as she began to strip. She slid her panties down her legs, stepping out of them with a dramatic flair. She was now as bare as Eunbi, their friendship stripped down to its rawest form.

"Now, Mr. Y/N," Minju said, her voice husky with anticipation, "I dare you to show Eunbi how skilled your mouth truly is."

Mr. Y/N took a moment to set his champagne flute aside, the clink of the glass punctuating the heavy silence. He looked at Eunbi, who was still recovering from her powerful orgasm, her cheeks flushed and eyes half-lidded with pleasure. She nodded, her voice a soft whimper of consent. He stood up, his movements deliberate and predatory as he approached her.

Minju watched with rapt attention, her own breath hitching as she anticipated the moment. She knew what was coming, had seen it in her own encounters with him. She reached down and began to stroke her own clit, eager to feel the echoes of her friend's pleasure.

Mr. Y/N knelt before Eunbi, her trembling legs parted wide to accommodate him. He leaned in, his breath hot against her skin as he whispered, "You're so beautiful, Eunbi."

The words sent a shiver down her spine, and she gasped as he licked along her slit, savoring the taste of her. Her hips bucked upward, seeking more of his mouth. "Ahh, Y/N," she moaned, her voice a desperate plea. "More, please."

Minju's eyes were glued to the sight, her own hand working faster between her legs as she watched. The way his tongue moved, the way he sucked on her clit—it was mesmerizing. She had never seen anyone enjoy themselves so thoroughly, so unabashedly, and it was turning her on more than she had ever been. She felt a strange kinship with Eunbi in that moment, a bond formed by shared desire and the thrill of the forbidden.

Eunbi's moans grew louder, filling the room with the sweet sound of pleasure. Her body was a canvas of sensation, every nerve ending alight with the strokes and licks of Mr. Y/N's mouth. "Ahh, Y/N," she cried out, her voice ragged and desperate. "Don't stop, don't ever stop."

Mr. Y/N's eyes flicked up to Minju, the challenge in them unmistakable. With a wicked smile, he pulled away from Eunbi's pussy, her squirt spraying up and outwards like a geyser of lust. It arced through the air, landing on Minju's thighs, chest, and even her face. The sight was obscene and thrilling, and Minju couldn't help but let out a soft gasp of arousal.

Eunbi's eyes grew wide as she watched Minju's reaction, the reality of the situation setting in. But before she could say anything, Minju's own orgasm washed over her. She threw her head back, her body convulsing as her juices spurted out, mirroring Eunbi's earlier climax. The room was a symphony of wet sounds, a testament to the intensity of their shared desire.

Mr. Y/N took this moment to pull out his phone, the screen lighting up his face as he began to record. The sight of the two women, both trembling and breathless, their bodies slick with desire, was one he knew he'd want to savor later. The act was almost voyeuristic, but the way they were looking at each other—with a mix of friendship, love, and lust—was too compelling to ignore.

"Record us, Y/N," Minju said, her voice still breathless from her own orgasm. She spread her legs wider, her clenched pussy glistening in the dim light of the room. Eunbi followed suit, her own pussy quivering with anticipation.

Mr. Y/N didn't need to be told twice. He aimed his phone at them, the camera capturing every detail of their bodies as they began to pleasure themselves. "Ahh, yes," Minju moaned, her hand moving in slow circles over her clit. Eunbi watched, her eyes wide and hungry, as Minju's fingers dipped inside herself, coating her digits in her own juices.

The sound of their wetness filled the air, a symphony of desire that grew louder as their movements grew more frantic. "Ahh, Eunbi, look at me," Minju gasped, her eyes locking with hers. "I want to watch you cum again."

Eunbi's cheeks flushed, but she didn't look away. Instead, she spread her legs wider, her own hand joining Minju's in the intimate dance. They touched themselves in unison, their moans growing louder as they watched each other. It was a display of raw, unfiltered passion that neither of them had ever shared with anyone before.

Mr. Y/N's own arousal was clear as he recorded, his voice low and gruff. "So fucking sexy," he murmured, his eyes flicking between the two of them. "Keep going, don't stop."

Their hands moved faster, their breath coming in ragged pants as they approached the edge once more. "Ahh, ahh, I'm going to cum," Eunbi whimpered, her eyes never leaving Minju's. "I'm going to squirt again."

Minju nodded, her own orgasm building. "Do it," she urged, her voice strained. "I want to feel it."

And with that, they both let go. Their bodies tensed, their muscles tightening as they reached their peak. Eunbi's cum shot out, a thick stream that hit Mr. Y/N's chest and face. He grunted, the surprise only adding to his excitement as he continued to film.

Minju watched, her eyes wide, as Eunbi's pussy spasmed and her fluids painted Mr. Y/N. She felt her own orgasm crest, her pussy clenching around her fingers. "Ahh, Eunbi, I'm coming," she screamed, her cum joining Eunbi's in the mess on the floor.

The room was a blur of pleasure, the scent of sex heavy in the air. They came together, their bodies shaking with the force of their climaxes. And through it all, Mr. Y/N's camera never stopped rolling, capturing every moment of their shared ecstasy.

As their breathing began to slow, Mr. Y/N lowered the phone, his own arousal clear as he wiped Eunbi's cum from his cheek. "Well, that was... unexpected," he said, his voice a mix of amusement and lust.

Minju and Eunbi looked at each other, the tension in the room now a tangible thing. They had crossed a line, and there was no going back. But as they sat there, naked and spent, something had changed between them. The silent rivalry was gone, replaced by a newfound understanding—a bond that was now as sexual as it was friendship.

They shared a look that spoke volumes, a look that said, "We've shared something incredible, and nothing will ever be the same." And with that, the night took a turn that none of them could have ever predicted, as Mr. Y/N set the phone aside and joined them, his own desire too great to ignore any longer.

"Stand up, Eunbi," he said, his voice gruff with need. He gently took her by the hand, helping her to her unsteady feet. Her legs trembled as she rose, the aftershocks of her orgasm still pulsing through her. She was naked and exposed, but she didn't feel vulnerable—instead, she felt powerful, like she was on the brink of something incredible.

Eunbi stood in front of Minju, her pussy facing Minju's face. Y/n started undressing himself and stood in front of Eunbi. His penis was right at her entrance, ready to enter.

"Just watch her pussy and tell me what do you see," Y/N ordered, his eyes never leaving Minju's.

Minju leaned in, her nose almost touching Eunbi's sensitive flesh. "It's so wet," she murmured, her eyes wide with fascination. "And it's opening up for you, Y/N. It's like it's begging for you."

Eunbi moaned, the sound deep and guttural. She couldn't believe she was doing this—letting Mr. Y/N fuck her in front of her best friend. But the alcohol and the heat of the moment had loosened her inhibitions, and she found herself craving more of his touch.

Mr. Y/N's cock slid into Eunbi, filling her completely. She gasped, her eyes rolling back in her head as the sensation overwhelmed her. "It's tightening around you," Minju said, her voice a breathy whisper. "It's like a velvet vice, isn't it?"

Y/N groaned in agreement, his hips moving in a slow, steady rhythm. He watched as Minju leaned in closer, her tongue darting out to lick the juices that coated Eunbi's inner thighs.

Eunbi's eyes fluttered open, and she looked down at her friend. There was something in Minju's gaze that was both hungry and reassuring. It was as if she was giving her permission to let go, to fully embrace the moment. And so she did, her moans growing louder as Y/N's thrusts grew deeper.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by Eunbi's cries of pleasure. "Her pussy is getting wetter," Minju said, her voice thick with desire. "It's gripping you so tight, Y/N. You're going to make her squirt again."

Y/N picked up his pace, his movements becoming more urgent as he chased Eunbi's next orgasm. She threw her head back, her long hair cascading down her back, her body a picture of absolute surrender to the pleasure he was giving her.

"Look at her, Y/N," Minju said, her voice filled with awe. "Look how much she's enjoying this."

Y/N met Minju's eyes, and for a brief moment, it was as if they were the only two people in the room. The connection between them was palpable, a silent understanding that this was more than just a celebration—it was a declaration of their desires, a revelation of the depth of their bond.

He leaned in, his mouth claiming Eunbi's in a deep, passionate kiss as he continued to fuck her. Her body responded immediately, her pussy tightening around his cock as she moaned into his mouth.

"Squirt for me, Eunbi," Y/N growled, his voice thick with desire. "I want to feel you let go all over Minju's face."

Eunbi's eyes went wide with surprise, but she felt a thrill at his command. She had never felt so alive, so wanted. She nodded, her breath coming in short gasps as she focused on the sensation building inside her.

With a final, powerful thrust, Y/N pulled out, his cock glistening with her cum. Eunbi's body quivered, her pussy clenching as she tried to hold back the flood of pleasure that was about to be unleashed.

"Now," he said, his voice low and authoritative.

Eunbi closed her eyes and let go, her pussy spasming as she squirted, the force of her climax propelling her fluids through the air. Minju leaned back, her eyes wide as she watched the arc of Eunbi's cum, a perfect line aimed straight at her face.

The warm liquid hit her cheeks and nose, the scent of it filling her nostrils as it slid down her chin. She couldn't help but open her mouth, her tongue darting out to catch a droplet. It was salty and sweet, a taste she had never experienced before.

"Ahh, so good," Eunbi murmured when her squirting finally stopped, her legs trembling as she leaned against Y/N for support. She felt alive, more alive than she had ever felt before.

Minju sat there, her face and chest now a canvas of Eunbi's passion. She licked her lips, savoring the taste of her friend's desire. "Wow," she said, her voice filled with wonder. "That was incredible."

Y/N looked down at Eunbi, his eyes searching hers. "What do you want, Eunbi?" he asked, his voice gruff with need. "What do you truly desire?"

Eunbi's breath hitched, the words she was about to say feeling both thrilling and terrifying. But there was no turning back now. "Make me squirt again," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper. "And put your seed in me."

Y/N's eyes darkened, his desire for her clear. He didn't hesitate, guiding her down to the floor, her body sinking into the plush carpet. She lay there, legs spread wide, her body open and exposed, as he positioned himself between her thighs.

"Put your pussy in her mouth, Minju," he said, his voice a command that sent a shiver down Minju's spine. She looked up at Eunbi, her eyes questioning. But Eunbi's gaze was filled with a hunger that Minju had never seen before. She nodded, and without another word, she leaned down and pressed her pussy against Eunbi's eager mouth.

The moment their lips met, the room seemed to spin. Minju felt a rush of pleasure that was both new and familiar as Eunbi's tongue slid between her folds. She moaned, her hips bucking involuntarily as her friend tasted her for the first time. Eunbi's eyes were closed, her expression one of pure bliss as she licked and sucked, exploring every inch of Minju's pussy.

Meanwhile, Y/N positioned himself behind Eunbi, his cock pressing against her entrance. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and full of lust. "Ready?" he asked, his voice a low growl.

"Yes," she moaned, her eyes never leaving Minju's. "Do it."

With one powerful thrust, he was inside her, filling her up completely. Eunbi's moan was muffled by Minju's pussy, but the vibrations sent waves of pleasure through both women. They were a tangle of limbs and desire, their bodies moving in perfect harmony as they gave and received pleasure.

Minju could feel every stroke of Y/N's cock inside Eunbi, the way her muscles tightened and released around him. It was as if she was experiencing the sensation herself, a strange and erotic echo of their shared intimacy.

"Oh, fuck," she shouted, her voice bouncing off the walls. "It feels like heaven in Eunbi's mouth!"

Eunbi's eyes fluttered closed, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked harder on Minju's clit. She could feel her own orgasm building again, the sensation of Y/N's cock pounding into her from behind only making it more intense.

Y/N watched them, his own climax approaching. He reached down, grabbing Eunbi's hips as he drove into her, his eyes never leaving Minju's. "You like watching me fuck her?" he asked, his voice a dark whisper.

Minju nodded, her own hand sliding down to her clit. "Yes," she gasped. "It's so hot."

Y/N's grip on Eunbi's hips tightened, his strokes growing faster. "And what about when I cum inside her?" he asked, his eyes challenging.

Minju's eyes went wide, but she didn't protest. Instead, she nodded again, her breath coming in shallow pants. "Do it," she said. "Make her scream."

The words were like a trigger, and with one final, powerful thrust, Y/N reached his peak. He roared as he filled Eunbi's pussy with his cum, the sensation sending her over the edge as well. Her body convulsed around him, her mouth releasing Minju's clit with a pop.

Minju's eyes rolled back in her head as she felt the orgasm build within her. "Oh, Eunbi," she moaned, her voice tight with pleasure. "It's going to happen, I'm going to squirt."

Eunbi's mouth remained firmly on her pussy, her tongue working in earnest to bring Minju to the brink. She could feel the tension in her best friend's body, the way her muscles tightened and her hips bucked against her face. It was an intoxicating power, one she had never experienced before.

"It's coming," Minju panted, her hand gripping Eunbi's hair. "It's like...like a dam breaking. So much pressure and then—ahh!"

Her body spasmed, and with a gush of wetness, she squirted into Eunbi's eager mouth. The sensation was indescribable—like a warm, wet explosion of pure ecstasy that flooded through her. She watched as Eunbi's cheeks bulged, her eyes watering from the sheer force of it.

"It's so intense," Minju murmured, her voice strained. "It's like my body is releasing all this pent-up pleasure in one go."

Eunbi swallowed, her own desire spiking at the sight. She had never seen Minju like this, so raw and uninhibited. It was beautiful and erotic in a way she had never imagined.

"Keep going," Y/N urged, his own arousal evident in his voice. "I want to feel you both come together."

Minju leaned down, her mouth finding Eunbi's as they kissed, sharing the taste of each other's pleasure. Their bodies were slick with sweat and cum, their hearts racing in tandem as they approached their next climax.

Y/N's cock was still hard, still demanding release. He positioned himself behind Minju, his hand guiding his shaft to her tight entrance. "I'm going to fill you up," he growled, his eyes on hers.

Minju nodded, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Do it," she whispered. "I want to feel you in me while Eunbi's mouth is full of me."

With one swift motion, he slammed into her, making her cry out against Eunbi's lips. The feeling was overwhelming—his cock stretching her, Eunbi's tongue still teasing her clit, and the warmth of her own cum coating her skin.

Their bodies moved together in a dance of lust, their moans and gasps echoing through the apartment. The air was thick with the scent of sex, a potent reminder of their shared desire.

Y/N began to fuck Eunbi with a fervor that was both fierce and tender. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she moaned uncontrollably, her tongue never leaving Minju's pussy. Minju watched in awe, her voice a breathy stream of consciousness. "Look at you," she whispered, her voice a mix of amazement and arousal. "Your pussy is taking him in so beautifully, Eunbi."

Eunbi's hips rocked back to meet his thrusts, her body moving in perfect sync with his. Her tongue continued to swirl and dart, exploring every inch of Minju's sensitive flesh. "Ahh, oh my god," Minju moaned, her eyes half-closed. "You're so good at this."

Eunbi's moans grew louder as she felt Y/N's cock hit her g-spot with each thrust. The pressure was building again, her orgasm threatening to consume her. "Minju, I'm gonna...I'm gonna..." she managed to gasp out, her eyes pleading.

Minju, still riding the wave of her own pleasure, nodded understandingly. She pulled away from Eunbi's mouth, the connection between them breaking with a wet pop. They watched each other, panting and trembling, their bodies coated in a sheen of sweat and arousal. "Do it," Minju urged, her voice thick with desire. "Cum with me."

And as if on cue, their bodies responded. Eunbi's pussy tightened around Y/N's cock, her muscles contracting in a delicious spasm. Minju's own climax began to build again, her clit pulsing with need. Y/N's eyes never left hers as he quickened his pace, pushing them both to the brink.

With a final, guttural moan, Eunbi let go. Her pussy clenched around him, her juices spurting into the air like a fountain. At the same time, Minju's orgasm crested, her cum spraying out in an arc that mirrored Eunbi's. The room was bathed in their shared ecstasy, the scent of sex and desire heavy in the air.

The sight was too much for Y/N to bear, and with a roar, he reached his own climax. He pulled out, his cock pulsing as he painted their bodies with his cum, adding to the mess they had already created.

For a moment, they just lay there, tangled together on the floor. The only sound was their ragged breathing, the only sensation the sticky warmth that covered their skin. They had crossed a line, but in that moment, nothing had ever felt more right.

But the night was far from over. Before Eunbi could even begin to process the intensity of what had just happened, she felt Mr. Y/N's cock hardening against her backside. She looked up at Minju, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and excitement.

"Again," Y/N murmured, his hand sliding down her body to her still-throbbing pussy. "I want to feel you come apart on me one more time."

Without a word, Eunbi nodded, her body already responding to his touch. He positioned himself behind her, his cock pressing against her entrance as he leaned in to whisper in her ear. "You're mine now, Eunbi. Every part of you."

Minju watched, her own desire rekindling as she saw the raw need in her manager's eyes. She reached out, her hand sliding over Eunbi's stomach as Y/N pushed inside her again. The sensation was intense, the feeling of his cock filling her up anew making Eunbi whimper with pleasure.

His strokes were deep and purposeful, his hips driving into her with a force that was almost brutal. She could feel every inch of him, his length sliding along her g-spot with a precision that had her seeing stars. "Ahh, yes," she moaned, her voice high and needy. "Y/N, harder."

Y/N complied, his grip on her hips tightening as he claimed her body once more. His eyes were locked on Minju's, the silent communication between them only adding to the eroticism of the moment. "Look at her," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "Look how much she wants it."

Minju's hand slid lower, her fingers finding Eunbi's clit as she began to rub in time with Y/N's thrusts. "Come for us," she whispered, her voice a seductive purr. "Let us feel you squirt again."

The pressure was building, a storm of pleasure that was threatening to consume Eunbi. She threw her head back, her eyes squeezed shut as she gave in to the sensation. "Ahh, fuck, I'm going to..."

With one final, powerful thrust, Y/N spilled his seed into her womb. Eunbi's body tightened around him, her pussy pulsing with her own orgasm as he filled her up. It was a moment of pure, unbridled ecstasy that seemed to go on forever.

As they lay there, their bodies entwined and their hearts racing, Minju leaned in and kissed Eunbi softly. "You were amazing," she murmured, her voice full of affection and desire.

Eunbi's eyes fluttered open, her gaze meeting Minju's. "So were you," she whispered back, a small smile playing on her lips.

Their bodies lay spent on the floor, a tangled mess of limbs and discarded clothing. The room was still, the only sound the soft, heavy breaths they shared. Minju's hand was resting on Eunbi's stomach, feeling the gentle rise and fall with each inhale and exhale. The stickiness between her thighs was a reminder of the intense moments that had just passed, a sensation that was both foreign and incredibly erotic.

Suddenly, something stirred within her, a new desire unfurling its petals. She pushed herself up, her muscles protesting slightly from the exertion of the night. Her eyes locked onto Eunbi's pussy, still glistening and swollen from the relentless pleasure it had been given. Without a word, she moved on all fours, her body graceful and feline as she approached her friend's exposed flesh.

"Wow," she murmured, her voice thick with wonder. "Y/N's seed is so much, it's flooding." She leaned closer, her nose touching the sticky mess that coated Eunbi's inner thighs. The scent of their mingled arousal was intoxicating, a heady aroma that seemed to fill every corner of the room.

Y/N chuckled, his chest heaving from his recent exertion. He positioned himself behind Minju, his cock still semi-hard from the intense fucking he had just given Eunbi. "Ready?" he asked, his voice low and gruff.

"Yes," Minju said, her voice steady despite the racing of her heart. She turned to Eunbi, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "Let's keep going.”

#kpop smut #girl group smut #gg smut #male reader #eunbi smut #minju smut #izone smut #izone minju smut

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comatosebunny09 · 3 months ago

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serve & protect [ prologue ] | sylus

— summary: you’ve stood dutifully by his side for years. seen him at his worst, not once letting that side of him deter you. can you blame him for craving more than your loyalty? — cw: royalty au, king sylus, femme reader, knight/bodyguard reader, mutual pining, brief mention of injury, marking, tension, jealousy, kind of a slow burn, will get steamier — notes: a reimagining of something i wrote a few years ago. heavily inspired by final fantasy xv & the beast within (2024) movie. tysm for reading! — now playing: waltz no.2 - cihat aşkın

You would feel bad for badgering him if he wasn’t prone to disappearing like this.

Prone to shirking off his duties like an entire kingdom didn’t rely on his guidance.

You sigh for the umpteenth time amid the night-blooming jasmines. Fingers tighten around the strapped leather grip of your sword, fastened to your hip. Your feet move on autopilot, carrying you through the garden on a path you’re all too familiar with, the grass shining with dew and crunching beneath your feet.

Your shift just began after a grueling week of training. Yet, you’ve already been tasked by his royal advisor with locating your charge before even shrugging into your coat. You’ve become something of a glorified babysitter these days, practically telling your liege when to eat.

If not for his advisor threatening to lop your head off—he could very well try—you would leave the king be. He hasn’t found much reprieve these days, what with neighboring countries pushing for peace treaties, reformation efforts to rebuild the outlying cities, and distant kingdoms shoving their daughters at him for marriage, amongst a slew of other issues.

It isn’t uncommon for your charge to slip away when the weight of the world is too much to shoulder. For him to retire to his private garden to catch his breath. He’ll never admit it aloud, but shouldering an entire kingdom on his own deepens the violet bags hanging beneath his eyes. The sleepless nights. The impending anxiety stewing in his gut.

Only you know of the secret passageways that lead to his most favored spots in the garden, where his servants get lost trying to navigate the network of rose bushes arranged like a labyrinth to keep them out.

It’s often your responsibility to fetch him since you work more intimately with him than anyone else. You know His Majesty’s habits like they were mapped on the back of your hand. You wouldn’t have it any other way; it’s nice to be the only person allowed into these private quadrants of his life.

A shock of white stains your peripheral, peacefully nestled between swaying hydrangeas.

You near him, noting that he’s propped up on an ironwood bench. His head is lowered and crooked to one side, arms folded over a broad chest, lips slightly parted. A book rests open and forgotten on his thigh, legs crossed. You tamp down a smile when you realize he’s fast asleep.

“Your Majesty,” you beckon with a hidden fondness as your steps slow to a stop before him.

He doesn’t stir. Of course, you don’t expect him to. When sleep claims him, it’s hard to free him from its ivy-like crawl.

You kneel dutifully, bowing your head, your sword scrawling a thick line in the dirt. You caution his name again, the sound of your voice competing with that of the breeze threading through the leaves.

Still nothing. Just the steady rhythm of his breaths and distant morning birds singing their symphony around you.

With a sigh, you incline your head to look up. And what a mistake that proves to be, traitorous butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

He’s a beautiful contradiction amid the soft stir of pastel flowers. A dark cutout of regality, slumbering like a dragon guarding its treasure.

His hair is reminiscent of a thick blanket of snow, piling itself amongst the treetops. He wears summer skin in the midst of spring. Stretched taut over a pretty Roman nose, angular features, full lips. He’s ethereal, limned in the sun’s amber glow, a sight that could bring the end of days or sink ships to the bottom of the sea. Thick, furled lashes dance with dreams beneath furrowed brows. A gruff sound escapes his mouth as he lightly stirs before falling still again.

Even in sleep, he maintains the intensity with which he’s known to rule.

A quaint smile touches your lips. You quell an impulse to soothe the divot between his brows with your thumb. To smooth out the hard press of his lips together. A well-timed gust of wind kicks in, rustling the velvet-soft hair framing his face.

Your fingers twitch with an impulse to touch. To tuck those unruly locks behind his ear. You instead curl them into a loose fist on the ground, quietly chiding yourself for allowing such thoughts to trickle in.

He is your charge—your king. Affectionate gestures like that are forbidden. A conflict of interest, no matter how harmless they may seem.

Besides, you’re unworthy of touching him. There’s dirt caked beneath your nails and an ever-present film of grime adorning your cheeks. He should have someone of equal stature smiling at his side. A pretty, glittering doll in flowery dresses, well-versed in the tongue of nobility. In the art of being poised and prim.

You’re a mere servant. A shield to be used at his disposal, your hands battle-worn and skin sun-kissed. You threw away all hope for love when you took an oath, binding your life to his and pledging your fealty to him.

He handpicked you to serve as his personal bodyguard, a decision you still grapple with several years later. Many seasoned knights served in the royal guard longer than you’ve held a sword. You would never do anything to jeopardize his trust, to betray his kindness.

The affection that unfurls like lotus petals in your chest for him is deep-rooted. However, it results from serving under him for so long and nothing more.

At least…

That’s what you tell yourself whenever his gaze lingers a little too long, pilfering the air from your lungs.

Or when his dexterous fingers brush over your wrist under the guise of reaching for something in front of you.

When he presses a warm and possessive hand at the small of your back whenever you tour the citadel’s grounds with him, or he requests your input on something at his desk.

When he flashes a rare quirk of lips that’s boyish and dimpled and disarming when he thinks no one else is the wiser.

You clear your throat, remembering yourself. Your voice is more assertive this time, dispelling the nebulous haze of your musings.

“Your Majesty, please. You have to get up.” The urge to stroke his cheek returns. You squeeze your thigh to curb it.

As if the Gods grant you mercy, that does the trick.

His lashes flutter, and his voice is thick and raspy, rolling like thunder over the horizon in his chest. You watch him blink away the bleariness, the scarlet wash of his irises causing your heart to pull.

Your king studies you as if making out the colors and texture of your face. You try not to shiver under his scrutiny, instead looking away as warmth inhabits your face. You’ve always found his eyes to be one of his most devastating features. They could easily glean through the mist of your mind, your guise, reading you like the yellowed pages of a book, even without tapping into the power residing in his right eye.

Heat permeates through the thickness of your uniform when, after setting his book aside, he suddenly pitches himself forward, elbows digging into the pockets of his knees. He rests his chin atop his folded together fingers, and you don’t need to fully look at him to see the smirk crooking his lips. The scent of unfettered energy and stripped sandalwood rolls off his skin, curling around your senses, threatening to root your tongue to the roof of your mouth.

The air between you is rife with tension. So thick, you can cleave through it with your blade. Your king watches you amusedly, and you do everything within your power to resist the bewitching pull of his gaze. The comfort and strength he exudes.

When he speaks, you nearly jump fifty feet out of your skin. His voice is as devastating as his eyes, puddling in your stomach, turning your brain to smog.

“I knew you were there all along. That’s why I didn’t bother opening my eyes. I was merely resting them.”

You scoff despite the anxiety scorching your innards. Closing your eyes, you retort under your breath, though loud enough for him to hear, “Sure, Majesty. You were resting your eyes while snoring with drool running down your chin.”

Your charge releases an indignant sound from the back of his throat, reeling back to touch his face, mortified. Your shoulders shake with your quiet laughter, and you hide the round tug of your lips behind your fist.

“Funny,” he says, and he gives you a look. One he’s used to silence an entire court of hecklers, its sharpness boding danger.

You clear your throat, donning that straight-faced mask you’ve grown so accustomed to wearing. You’re friends—childhood companions—yet you know when to shift from candid to serious.

Recalling why you were initially sent to fetch him, you stand to full height, brushing the dust off your hands on your thighs before snapping to attention. Your king raises a brow as if sensing something on your mind.

“At ease,” he orders, his voice devoid of its usual sternness as he leans back against the bench, a long arm draped along the bench’s headrest.

You get a good look at the veins peering through the cuffed sleeve of his button-up, spilling down his forearm to puddle at the back of his hand. You swallow against the barbs forming in your throat, your mouth growing dry.

“Speak freely.”

You nod, your hands clasped together at the small of your back. “You have a brunch date with the Queen of Universum today, sir.”

He blinks as if this information is news to him before recollection forms between his brows. His Majesty scowls, drumming his fingers on the bench’s rim impatiently. “Of course. Another noble here to throw their daughter at my feet.”

Your shoulders slightly drop at the dejection in his tone. You wish people weren’t so insistent that he take a wife. His father ruled just fine without one following the death of his mother. Still, having been around His Majesty so long, you understand why it’s imperative he marry soon.

Your shoulder throbs dully, serving as your reminder.

You try to ignore how the thought of some pretty noble wrapped around his arm makes you bristle, green-eyed feelings stewing in your belly. It would never be you—never could be you. You’re content with being his handler, watching him mutter obscenities over paperwork from your position at his door.

“How does that make you feel?” His Majesty suddenly asks, a teasing edge to his voice.

You blink, caught off guard. “M-Me?”

His chuckle is rich and endearing, and you unconsciously step back when he stands, swaddling you in his warmth and imposing aura. Stuffing a hand into his pocket, he pokes your nose, and you go cross-eyed looking at his slender finger.

“Yes, you. How does it make you feel, knowing that so many women would kill to take my name?”

He’s trying to get a rise out of you. Trying to weasel something out of you you’ve tucked in the deepest regions of your mind. You don’t humor him; instead, you give him a haughty look, your chin defiantly jutting forward.

“I think anyone willing to marry you is clinically insane.”

He laughs at your brazenness, your teasing, full-bodied and soothing. Dimples crater his cheeks, and the softness washing over his eyes causes a smile to twitch your lips. Without warning, idle fingers scorch your skin through the fabric of your jacket, easing down your arm, past the crook of your elbow, further still…

You’re breathless as His Majesty coaxes a hand from behind your back, and you watch with slightly parted lips and through the wispy sweep of your lashes as he draws it to his mouth. His eyes drill into the hulls of your soul whilst his molten lips brush your knuckles. He kisses them with such tenderness, such reverence, as if you’re an idol forged from glass, meant to be preserved in a museum.

The sound of your pulse pounding like a war drum blots out every bit of noise around. Your throat thickens, tongue bolted to the roof of your mouth.

“Good morning, by the way,” he drawls as if ensnaring you in a secret, his warm breath ghosting your skin, limber fingers scorching your hand to the bone.

You snatch away quicker than you mean to. Smooth your palm down your thigh before pinching yourself, studying the blades of grass licking at your boots. You wish you hadn’t caught sight of the fleeting pain in his expression. Wish you hadn’t been the cause of it.

“W-We should get going, sir,” you divert, trying to hide the shakiness of your voice.

He pushes out a weighted breath, stuffing the hand once curled around yours into his opposing pocket. “Lead on, then, dear friend.”

“Right.” With a curt nod, you turn on your heel towards the patchwork of greenery you emerged from.

He follows wordlessly, closely, a towering presence at your back, footfalls weighted in the grass, swallowing up the sound of your smaller ones. Static charges between you, imbued with something potent. You practically feel his eyes boring holes into the space between your shoulder blades.

You try to no avail to quell your thundering heart. To ignore how your knuckles throb where his lips imprinted themselves on the rough stretch of skin.

You wince, inwardly warring with yourself, praying that His Majesty keeps his hands to himself long enough to get through his meal with the queen.

You could only dream he would behave.

His Majesty is as infuriating as he is handsome.

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#sylus x reader #sylus x you #love and deepspace sylus #lnds sylus #sylus qin #lads sylus #sylus #l&ds sylus #king!sylus #royalty au #serve & protect series

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raekensluver · 1 month ago

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let me love you

description: after a late work night, you and spencer decide to take a quick break in the evidence room.

pairing: inexperienced!spencer x experienced!fem!reader

contains: established relationship, smut, sub!spencer, messy blowjob, pet names (baby), sexual acts in a public space (no one is there but still.)

song rec: let me love you by ariana grande ft. lil wayne- "just let me love you."

w.c: 2.0k

a.n: this is the most self indulgent fic ever.

spencer's eyes widened, his glasses fogging slightly as your mouth crashed against his, the suddenness of your passion taking him by surprise. the back of the evidence room was cold and stark, but the heat of your bodies quickly filled the space as your kiss grew more urgent, tongues tangling together in a dance of desire. The scent of dusty cardboard boxes and antiseptic cleaners hung faintly in the air, a stark contrast to the intimate moment unfolding between you.

his hands hovered tentatively at your waist, unsure of where to go next. you could feel his heart racing, his body tight with nerves and excitement. you didn't want to push him too far, but you knew he needed guidance, needed to be shown that it was okay to let go of his inhibitions. so, with a gentle but firm touch, you began to guide his hands upward, caressing the curves of your body as you went.

"spencer," you whispered against his ear, your breath warm and soft, sending shivers down his spine, "you're doing so well. i'm here for you, baby. i want you to enjoy this."

his eyes searched yours, a silent question lingering within them. you gave him a reassuring smile and took a step closer, pressing your body firmly against his. your hands slid up his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palms. "just relax," you cooed, your voice a soothing balm to his nerves. "let me take care of you."

his eyes fluttered shut, and he leaned into you, his breath coming in shallow gasps. "but…what if someone comes in?" he managed to murmur.

you chuckled softly, the sound sending vibrations through his chest, and leaned back to look him in the eye. "it's two in the morning, spencer. we're the only ones here."

his gaze searched yours, the fear in his eyes slowly dissolving into a mix of trust and want. "okay," he breathed out, and you could see the tension in his body ease just a little.

you stepped back, allowing him space to remove his wool blazer, watching as his slender arms slid from the sleeves. the material was thick and warm, the scent of his cologne lingering faintly. "you're so handsome, spencer," you murmured, your voice a gentle purr that seemed to resonate through his very being.

his cheeks flushed a deep shade of red as he self-consciously adjusted his glasses, looking away from you. "thank you," he murmured, his voice barely audible.

with a knowing smile, you reached out and palmed him through his pants, feeling him stiffen in your hand. his eyes shot back to yours, wide with surprise and arousal. he faltered a bit, his breath hitching as you began to stroke him gently, your movements slow and deliberate. "you like that, don't you?" you whispered, your eyes never leaving his.

his nod was almost imperceptible, but the way his eyes fluttered and his lips parted in a silent moan told you everything you needed to know. your hand grew bolder, the fabric of his work pants becoming tight as you massaged him. "yes," he breathed out, his voice shaking. "yes, i do."

you felt a thrill at his admission, a heady mix of power and desire coursing through you. you reached for the button of his pants, flicking it open with a smooth twist of your wrist. his eyes widened, his pupils dilating as you gradually slid the zipper down, the sound echoing faintly in the empty room.

his erection strained against the fabric of his boxers, and you could see the outline of his arousal clearly. you bit your lip, a mischievous smile playing on your face as you gently pushed the material aside. your hand was warm and soft against his bare skin, and he jerked slightly at the sensation, his eyes squeezing shut.

you wrapped your hand around his shaft, feeling the heat of him, the pulse of his blood beneath your fingertips. you began to stroke him in earnest now, watching his face contort with pleasure. his cheeks were flushed, his glasses slipping slightly down his nose as his mouth fell open in a silent gasp. "fuck," he whispered, the word leaving his lips like a prayer.

you leaned in closer, your breath a warm caress against his ear. "are you okay, spence?" you asked, your voice a seductive purr. "do you want me to keep going?"

his eyes snapped open, a desperate look in them. "yes," he breathed out, the word a needy whine. "please, don't stop."

you didn't need any more encouragement. with a grin that was both playful and predatory, you sank to your knees, the cold, hard floor a stark contrast to the warmth building between your thighs. you pulled his pants and boxers down, exposing his erection to the cool air of the evidence room. it bobbed in front of you, hard and eager, and you couldn't resist giving it a gentle tug, watching as a bead of precum formed at the tip.

spencer's eyes followed your every movement, his chest heaving with anticipation. you leaned in, your warm breath teasing over his shaft as you studied his reaction. his eyes fluttered shut again, his body tensing. "look at me, baby," you ordered, and his eyes snapped open to meet yours. you spit a string of saliva onto his tip, watching as it glistened in the stark fluorescent light.

slowly, you wrapped your hand around him, using your saliva as lubricant to glide up and down his length. the sound of your hand moving against his skin filled the air, a wet, slick sound that seemed to amplify the intimacy of the moment. his eyes never left yours, the intensity of your gaze holding him captive as you worked him over with increasing speed. his hips began to thrust involuntarily, his hands finding purchase on the metal shelving behind him as you stroked him.

then, without warning, you leaned in and took him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his tip. the suddenness of it made him gasp, his eyes widening with shock and pleasure. his entire body jerked, and a soft moan escaped his lips as you began to suck, taking more and more of him into your mouth. your saliva coated him, making every movement feel like a warm, wet embrace. the taste of him was intoxicating, and you found yourself eager for more.

you used one hand to stroke what couldn't fit in your mouth, your other hand cupping his balls, rolling them gently in your palm. you could feel them tighten with every pass of your tongue, the sound of your sucking and slurping mixing with his whimpers and gasps. your cheeks hollowed out as you took him deep, your throat muscles working to accommodate his size. the room grew hazy around the edges, the only thing that mattered was the feeling of his hardness in your mouth and the way he was losing himself to the pleasure you were giving him.

spencer's hands found their way to your hair, his grip tightening as you worked him over. he was whining now, his noises growing louder and more desperate. you liked the sound, the way it filled the room and echoed off the metal shelves. you liked the way his body reacted to you, the way his knees wobbled and his hips bucked. you knew you had him right where you wanted him.

so you took him deeper, pushing past the point of comfort. your throat tightened around him, a wet gagging noise escaping as you took him as deep as you could. you didn't stop, though. you kept going, the sound of your mouth on his skin and your throat working him driving you both wild. your eyes watered, but you didn't pull back. instead, you swallowed around him, the muscles of your throat contracting around his length.

his whimpers grew louder, turning into full-blown moans that seemed to fill the room. "fuck, yes," he groaned, his voice thick with desire. "like that. just like that." his hips rocked into you, his movements growing more erratic as he approached the edge.

you pulled back slightly, teasing him with the sudden loss of pressure before plunging back down, taking him deep once more. your other hand reached out to cup his balls, the warm weight of them heavy in your palm. you rolled them gently, feeling them tighten and loosen with every stroke of your hand. then, with a mischievous glint in your eye, you leaned in and sucked one into your mouth, your tongue swirling around it, tasting him fully.

his knees buckled, his legs trembling under the onslaught of sensation. his grip on the shelving behind him grew white-knuckled as he fought to stay upright, his hips jerking in response to your touch. "holy shit," he gasped, the words torn from his throat as he watched you, his pupils wide and dark with lust. "you're so good at this."

you took his words as the highest praise, a spike of pride and desire coursing through you as you licked back up to his cock, tracing a wet path along the underside of his shaft. you took him in again, your mouth warm and welcoming, and his moan grew deeper, more guttural. your tongue swirled around the head, playing with the slit before you swallowed him whole once more. the feel of him in your mouth was intoxicating, and you found yourself lost in the rhythm of your movements.

you hummed around his cock, the vibration sending a shiver down his spine. your hand worked in tandem with your mouth, stroking and caressing as you brought him closer to the precipice. you could feel his muscles tightening, his entire body coiled like a spring, ready to release. your own arousal grew with every whimper and gasp that fell from his lips.

"I'm going to cum," he choked out, his voice strained and desperate. you felt his cock twitch in your mouth, and you knew he was close. instead of slowing down, you increased your pace, your tongue swirling around the sensitive spot just under the head as you bobbed up and down faster, taking him deep again. his legs trembled, and you had to hold onto his thighs to keep him steady.

his hand tightened in your hair, guiding your movements now, urging you on as his body took over. you could feel the tension in his muscles, the way his body was wound so tight it was almost painful. and then, with a final, strangled cry, he came, his release hot and thick in your mouth. you swallowed around him, never breaking eye contact, savoring the taste of him as he filled your mouth.

his legs gave out completely, and he would have fallen if not for the shelves behind him. his breath came in ragged gasps, his chest heaving as he struggled to regain control. "holy…fuck," he breathed out, his voice hoarse. his eyes searched yours, a mix of shock and awe in their depths.

you smiled up at him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "see? i told you it would be okay," you whispered, a hint of smugness in your tone.

you stood up, your legs feeling a bit shaky after being on your knees for so long. you reached up to straighten his glasses, pushing them back up his nose gently, the pads leaving red marks on the bridge. his eyes searched yours, the pupils still blown wide with passion. "you're amazing," he murmured, his voice hoarse from his cries.

you couldn't help but smile at his praise, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "i aim to please," you said, your tone playful as you leaned in to give him a kiss. your mouth tasted of him, and you knew he could taste himself on you, but that only seemed to make the kiss hotter. your tongues danced together, the kiss deep and messy.

his hands slid down to your thighs, pulling you closer to him, and you could feel his cock, already hardening again. "I want to…do something for you," he murmured against your lips, his voice still thick with arousal.

you chuckled and pulled back slightly, a playful smile on your face. "not today, baby," you said, placing a gentle kiss on his flushed cheek. "you've had enough fun for one night."

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thef1diary · 4 months ago

Note

hi!! first of all wanted to say that i LOVE your work! I'd like to request a smut <3

so i was thinking about carlos w a somno kink, praise kink and some dacryphilia. i'd also like an innocence kink so maybe like inexperienced!reader. oh, and aftercare too! thanks ^_^

Deep Dark Desire | C. Sainz

warnings: 18+ content, dark!carlos, non-con, possessive!carlos, hint of stalker behaviour, manipulation, carlos sneaking sleeping pills in food, somnophilia, oral, fingering, innocent!virgin!reader, praise kink, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, mentions of pregnancy, aftercare.

wc: 6.5k

— this is a dark fic! please read the warnings and do not read this fic if any of the topics make you uncomfortable. Don’t like, don’t read!

The aroma of something sweet and savoury greeted you the moment you stepped through the door. You let the weight of the day melt off your shoulders as you kicked off your shoes, too tired to process anything beyond the simple comfort of being home. Carlos was already in the kitchen, his dark hair slightly tousled and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows as he stirred a pot on the stove.

He turned at the sound of your soft footsteps, his face lighting up with a smile that was all warmth and devotion. “There you are, princesa,” he said, setting the spoon down to cross the room to stand in front of you. His hands found your shoulders immediately, his thumbs pressing gently into the tense muscles there. “Long day?”

You nodded, leaning into his touch with a sigh. Carlos had a way of making you feel cared for in ways you hadn’t known you needed. He always seemed to know what you wanted before you did—what to say, how to look at you, how to touch you just enough to make your heart flutter but not so much that you’d question the boundaries of your relationship.

“I made dinner,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing as he guided you to the kitchen table. “Sit. Eat. Let me take care of you.”

You sank into the chair, too weary to protest. Carlos placed a steaming plate in front of you, the dish carefully prepared, every detail perfect. You couldn’t help but smile at the effort he’d gone to, even after such a long day himself.

“You’re too good to me,” you said softly, meeting his eyes.

His smile deepened, but there was something in his gaze—something you couldn’t quite name. It was too intense, too knowing, as though he were looking at more than just your face. It made your stomach twist, though you quickly dismissed it as exhaustion.

Carlos sat across from you, his elbows resting on the table as he watched you eat. His presence was comforting, grounding. And yet, there was an edge to his attention that you never noticed, a shadow lurking beneath the surface of his affection.

Because while you saw only his patience—his endless sweetness, his gentle guidance—there was so much more to Carlos that you didn’t see. That he didn’t let you see…yet.

You didn’t see the way his hands tightened into fists every time someone else’s name—especially a man’s name—slipped into your stories from work. You didn’t hear the quiet, possessive promises whispered into the stillness of the apartment when you were sound asleep. You didn’t know how carefully he kept track of your every habit, your every move, until he knew you better than you knew yourself. It was how he managed to charm you into a relationship with him in the first place.

From the moment he saw you, he was smitten. Carlos loved you. But as time went on, the more he found the extent of your innocence—the very one that made you pliable and trusting. He loved that you let him lead in all aspects, oblivious to the dark currents beneath his tenderness. It was those very thoughts about you he held close that turned his love for you into a crazed obsession.

You had no idea that the man who seemed so devoted, so perfect, would do anything to keep you his—even if it meant crossing lines you didn’t yet know existed.

“Eat, nena,” he said softly, his voice pulling you from your thoughts. His fingers brushed your wrist, lingering just a moment too long. “You need to keep your strength up.”

And as you took another bite, smiling faintly at his concern, you missed the way his gaze darkened, the way his lips curved into a smile that wasn’t sweet at all.

Carlos rested his chin on his hand, his dark eyes fixed on you as you took careful bites of the meal he had prepared. Your free hand held his other hand, his thumb tracing slow, soothing patterns. Every so often, you’d glance up at him, smiling softly, touched by the care he had put into it. The flavours were rich and comforting, the kind of food that made you feel safe. You wondered, briefly, how you’d gotten so lucky to have someone like him in your life.

But as you ate, a question tugged at the back of your mind. You set your fork down gently and tilted your head. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

Carlos’ lips twitched into a faint smile, and he shook his head. “Not yet. This one’s special. Just for you.”

There was a sincerity in his voice that made your cheeks flush slightly. You didn’t even consider questioning him further. Of course, he would do something like this—go out of his way to make you feel cared for without expecting anything in return. That’s just how Carlos is.

Still, there was something about the way he said ‘special’ that lingered in your mind, a weight to the word you couldn’t quite place. But the thought slipped away as a wave of exhaustion rolled over you, your body suddenly heavy and your eyelids drooping.

You blinked rapidly, shaking your head as if to clear it. “I don’t know why I’m so tired,” you murmured, dropping his hand and rubbing at your temple. “I wasn’t this bad earlier.”

Carlos’ expression shifted instantly, his brows furrowing with concern as he leaned closer to you. His hand found yours again—not able to handle the sudden loss of warmth—his thumb brushing soothing circles over your skin.

“Are you feeling alright?” he asked, his voice low and gentle. His other hand reached out, fingertips brushing your forehead as if to check for a fever. “You’ve had a long day, mi vida. You need to rest.”

You wanted to smile at his worry, to reassure him that it was nothing serious. But your head felt so heavy, the corners of your vision blurring as your body sagged further into the chair. You fought against the haze, focusing on the soft lines of Carlos’ face, his worried eyes, the way his lips pressed together in a tight line.

If only you’d known the truth behind that worry. If only you’d seen the darkness that twisted through the depths of his concern.

“Here,” he murmured, reaching for the glass of water on the table. He pressed it into your hand, guiding it to your lips. “Drink this, cariño. And then go lie down. I’ll clean up.”

You shook your head weakly, your grip on the glass faltering as you set it down. “No, I’ll finish my food first. You put so much effort into this for me…”

Carlos’ hand hovered near yours, as though ready to steady you if you faltered again. His smile was small, patient, but there was a flicker of something sharper in his gaze—something you didn’t notice in your foggy state.

“You’re too kind,” he said softly, his voice almost a whisper. “Always thinking of others. But I just want you to rest.”

You managed a faint smile, brushing off his suggestion as you picked up your fork again. “Just a little more,” you mumbled.

Carlos didn’t protest, leaning back in his chair as he watched you with an intensity that should have made you shiver. But you were too distracted by the growing weight in your limbs, the way your head felt as if it were floating. Bite by bite, your exhaustion deepened, and you didn’t realize that the cause wasn’t your long day at all—it was the food, his careful planning, and his quiet, calculated patience.

He rested his chin on his palm once more, his smile widening ever so slightly as you struggled to keep your eyes open. “That’s it, nena,” he murmured, his voice almost tender. “You’re doing so well.”

And you, sweet and trusting as always, didn’t think to question the strange satisfaction in his voice.

The room seemed to spin slightly as you set your fork down, the last few bites of your meal left untouched. You blinked, trying to focus on Carlos’ face, but even that felt like too much effort. Your head lolled to the side as a sleepy giggle escaped your lips, the kind of unguarded sound that came when exhaustion stripped you of your usual composure.

“Carlos, baby, I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you murmured, your words slurring slightly. “I’m so… tired.”

He was already by your side, his hands steady as they slipped beneath your arms to lift you from the chair. “Shh, nena,” he cooed, his voice soft and soothing. “Let me take care of you. You’ve done enough today.”

Before you could protest, he scooped you up effortlessly, cradling you against his chest as though you weighed nothing. Your arms looped lazily around his neck, and you let out another sleepy giggle, your breath warm against his skin.

“I can walk, you know,” you mumbled, though the comfort of his hold was undeniable.

Carlos chuckled, the sound deep and warm, “you’re barely awake, mi vida. Let me spoil you a little.”

He carried you to the bedroom, his movements careful and deliberate as though he were handling something fragile. The dim light of the room seemed to blur at the edges as he set you down on the bed, his hands lingering on your waist for a moment too long.

“Let’s get you comfortable,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He helped you out of your clothes, his fingers brushing against your skin with a tenderness that made your heart flutter even in your haze. You didn’t question it, didn’t register the way his touch lingered, how his gaze darkened as you were left in nothing but your undergarments and put into one of his long shirts.

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. It felt like a dream, the world around you fading as you slipped deeper into the heavy pull of sleep.

“Goodnight, princesa,” he whispered against your lips, his voice velvet-soft.

But as your eyes fluttered closed and your breathing evened out, Carlos lingered. He didn’t even manage to pull the blanket over you before he noticed how still you’d become, how utterly weightless you were in the depths of sleep. He called your name softly at first, his hand brushing your cheek, but there was no response.

His lips curved into a slow, dark smile, the shadows in his expression deepening as he realized you were completely at his mercy.

“So perfect,” he murmured, his voice low and reverent. He traced a finger along your jawline, down the slope of your neck. “You don’t even know, do you? How much I crave you.”

His hand paused, hovering over your collarbone as his breath hitched slightly. “So innocent,” he whispered, his tone laced with something heavier, something darker. “And mine.”

Carlos let the words hang in the air, savouring the weight of them as he gazed down at you—his perfect little captive in a dark world you’d never even imagined existed.

There was a fragile innocence to the way you looked now, the soft lines of your face unburdened by the day’s worries, the slight parting of your lips as you breathed peacefully. He reached out, brushing his knuckles gently along your cheek, his touch featherlight as if you might shatter beneath anything stronger.

“You have no idea how beautiful you are, mi vida,” he whispered, his voice a low murmur in the quiet room. “How much I—” his words faltered, caught between his throat and his heart. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to exhale slowly. “How much I adore you.”

His fingers traced a path down your arm, stopping just above your wrist, where he lingered. You were so trusting, so unguarded with him. It filled him with an overwhelming ache, a desire to protect you, to shield you from the world. Yet that same trust was a double-edged sword, cutting deep into the darker corners of his mind where thoughts twisted into obsessions he could never confess.

Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger there. “You’re too good for me,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “Too kind. Too pure.” Each word carried the weight of unspoken truths, emotions he’d buried due to fear of frightening you. You deserved someone gentler, someone who wouldn’t feel this burning need to keep you so close, to ensure you never left his side.

But you were his. You just didn’t know how much just yet.

A pang of need coursed through him—deep, consuming, and utterly unrelenting. A lazy smirk graced his lips, his hands wandering over your body more than he’s ever done before. He didn’t stop, after all this was all part of his plan—his carefully crafted plan that would allow him to do whatever he pleased with you.

“You have no idea how much I want you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible, almost as if confessing to himself. His hand moved instinctively, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, his touch so tender it could’ve been mistaken for reverence. “How much I need you, completely.”

His mind wandered to your words from a few months ago, when you first began dating. You had sweetly confessed in a meek tone that you wanted to wait until marriage for any intimacy. At the time, he had nodded, reassured you that he understood and respected your decision. And he had, for a while. But with each passing day, every innocent touch from you, every fleeting moment of closeness, the restraint he prided himself on was unraveling.

“You’re mine,” he whispered again, the words heavier this time, steeped in a quiet obsession. “You’ll always be mine.”

Carlos leaned down, his lips hovering just above your temple. He kissed you there softly, lingering as he inhaled the faint scent of your skin. The thought of you saving yourself for some abstract moment in the future felt intolerable now. A ring? A ceremony? Those things were meaningless to him. You were already his in every way that mattered. Every way but one, which he had planned on changing tonight.

“It doesn’t matter, right princesa?” he whispered as if conversing with your unconscious body. “A piece of paper won’t change what we are. What we’ll always be.”

You were an angel in his eyes—pure, untouchable—and yet he couldn’t stop acting on the darker thoughts that had crept in his mind. “You’ll let me take you now, right?” he asked, a wicked smile tugging at his lips when you didn’t respond.

“You’ll understand one day. You’d forgive me because you love me,” he spoke, relieved, finding a justification for what he was about to do. Love.

His fingers trailed down your body, finding the hem of your shirt. He inhaled deeply before pulling it up, revealing your bare skin underneath. The glow of the moonlight streaming through the curtains bathed you in a silver hue, making you seem almost otherworldly in his eyes.

He leaned forward, his knees sinking into the mattress as he settled between your legs, his body close but not touching yours just yet. Carlos lowered his head, his lips brushing against the curve of your stomach in the gentlest kiss. The warmth of your skin beneath his mouth sent a shiver coursing through him, and he allowed himself a quiet sigh, his breath fanning over you.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, his voice filled with reverence and something deeper, darker. His hand rested lightly on your hip, his thumb tracing small circles over your skin. The rise and fall of your breathing was steady, unbroken, and he couldn’t help but marvel at how serene you looked, so trusting, so utterly unaware of the storm of emotions raging within him.

Carlos trailed another kiss just above your navel, the soft press of his lips lingering as though he could imprint the moment into his memory. His free hand slid up along your side, fingertips tracing the delicate lines of your ribs as he murmured softly, “I’ll make you feel so good.”

Carlos continued his trail of kisses, his lips brushing over the sensitive skin of your lower stomach before stopping just above the edge of your panties. He nearly hesitated, letting the intimacy of the moment build, before pressing his lips firmly against the soft cotton. The barrier of fabric only spurred his imagination further, and he closed his eyes as if savouring the moment.

His teeth grazed the edge of the fabric, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. Carefully, he bit down, trapping the waistband between his teeth. He tilted his head, pulling the material taut as it lifted slightly away from your skin.

Carlos released the fabric, letting it snap back against your skin with a quick sound that sent a shiver of satisfaction through him. His hand, which had been resting on your side, slid down to your hip, his grip firm but not overbearing.

“You don’t even know how perfect you are,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. His lips hovered just above your skin as he let out a soft exhale, his breath warm against your bare stomach. “Every inch of you, so soft, so untouched. You drive me insane, mi vida.”

His fingers ghosted along the inside of your leg, his touch featherlight yet deliberate, igniting a trail of warmth beneath his fingertips. He traced the edge of your panties, his thumb brushing over the thin fabric that covered the most intimate part of you. The part he was never allowed to touch.

The heat radiating from your body made his breath catch in his throat. His hand dipped lower, his fingers pressing lightly against your cunt, feeling the warmth and softness beneath the barrier of fabric. A low hum of satisfaction rumbled in his chest as he pressed a single finger against your covered clit, moving in slow, deliberate circles.

Carlos lowered his head, his lips so close now that his breath fanned over you, hot and unsteady. He paused, savouring the moment, before pressing a kiss right where his fingers had been, the contact soft yet deliberate. The fabric between you only added to his desire, a fleeting barrier that made the moment feel even more tantalizing.

Filled with dark intent, he glanced at you, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest to confirm you were still asleep. His hands moved with purpose now, his fingers hooking onto your panties. Carefully, he pulled the fabric to the side, his movements unhurried as if he had all the time in the world with your pliant body. His eyes darkened, breath hitching as he finally saw you all in your glory. He dragged his fingers over your now bare pussy, teasing the slit, separating your delicate folds.

The sight of your glistening pussy was too tempting to resist. He swiped his tongue across his lips, aching to taste your sweet cunt. “See, I knew you’d like this,” he whispered, watching your wetness grow with each slide of his fingers, coating them completely. “I wouldn’t have to do this if you just let me have you, nena.”

He collected your slickness on his fingers before bringing them up to his mouth. His eyes fluttered shut as he slipped them between his lips, his tongue swirling around them greedily. The taste of you consumed him, rich and intoxicating, and he groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating through the quiet room.

“You taste so sweet,” he murmured against his fingers, as though tasting you had confirmed something he’d always known. His gaze flickered back to you, his expression filled with a mix of awe and hunger.

His hand returned to your thighs, holding you gently yet firmly in place as though you might stir and pull away. But you didn’t move, your body relaxed and unaware under his touch. He let his lips press against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, leaving a trail of slow, deliberate kisses as his other hand returned to your pussy. His fingers traced over you again, teasingly light, as though memorizing every moment.

“Dios mío,” he whispered, his voice thick with awe. “You’re even more perfect than I imagined.”

Finally, he pressed a lingering kiss to your bare pussy, his lips soft and warm against your folds. He started slowly, careful not to jolt you awake, his tongue tracing a gentle path along your slit. A low groan escaped him, the sound vibrating against you as he savoured every second.

“You’re so sweet,” he murmured against you, his voice muffled by his proximity. His tongue flicked over your clit with teasing precision before returning to lap at you more fully, his movements unhurried and methodical. Each stroke of his tongue was a worshipful caress, his hands holding your thighs steady as he worked.

Carlos alternated between firm, deliberate licks and soft, teasing circles over your clit, his mouth devouring you with a hunger he could no longer restrain. His fingers dug into your thighs, hard enough to leave bruises behind.

“Absolutely perfect,’ he said between kisses, his breath warm and ragged against your skin. He tilted his head slightly, his tongue delving deeper as his lips sealed over you, sucking gently before pulling away with a soft, wet sound.

A low groan bubbled from your throat, making him pause. He glanced up at you from between your legs but you were still sucked into the depths of sleep. He chuckled, almost in awe at your subconscious reaction. “Mm, there we go, I know you like this.”

While he continued flicking his tongue over your clit mercilessly, his fingers teased your hole. He couldn’t believe it’s been untouched all your life—even you hadn’t dared to learn how to please yourself, leaving it up to your future husband. He found it rather cute, so innocent. He wished you allowed him to fuck you while you were conscious just so he could see your eyes rolling back, your lips parting as a soft sweet moan would’ve escaped when he slid his finger inside.

Instead, he had to settle for a groan that came from him when you shifted just an inch. Your pussy swallowed his finger greedily, clenching around him as it struggled to decide if it was a welcomed intrusion or not.

Carlos retreated his finger, briefly glancing at the wetness that coated it before pushing back in. He set a steady pace, allowing your body to become accustomed to the unusual intrusion before adding another finger. He curled them inside, and if you were conscious, perhaps you would arch your back as pleas left your lips.

His hardened cock ached to be released from the confines of his boxers, precum staining them yet he focused on your pleasure first. He might’ve chosen to take you in a vulnerable moment, one in which you had no say, but he wasn’t cruel. He settled on moving his hips against the mattress, allowing temporary relief while he prepped you to take him.

He was now three fingers deep in your cunt, scissoring and curling them inside to prepare you for the inevitable stretch his cock will provide. Leaning closer, he wrapped his lips around your clit again, sucking sharply in time with his quickening thrusts. Wetness gushed around him, coating his lips and fingers, even dripping down to stain the sheets beneath you. Pressing one last kiss to your cunt, he retreated his fingers completely, watching your pussy gape before clenching around air, searching for the lost pleasure.

“Patience, nena, I know what your pretty little pussy needs,” he murmured breathlessly.

He leaned back, kneeling on the bed as he hooked his fingers in his sweatpants and boxers in one go before sliding them down together and tossing the clothes aside. His hard, leaking cock ached to be inside you, enveloped by the warmth that only your virgin pussy would provide. His fingers dipped inside your cunt, collecting your wetness before wrapping his hand around himself. He smeared your slickness all over his cock, mixing with his precum that dripped from the tip.

Carlos dropped his head back, moaning shamelessly as he worked his hand over himself. Whispered curses left his lips mixed with murmurs of your name as he neared the edge rather too quickly. He shut his eyes tightly when he forced himself to slow down his pace, not wanting his fantasy to be over before it even properly started.

When he opened his eyes, he looked at you—still unaware, softly snoring away. He smiled as he trailed his gaze over your body, but when he reached the beautiful sight between your legs, he trapped his bottom lip between his teeth, preventing another moan from being unleashed.

He couldn’t wait any longer, almost overcome with another wave of dark intent swirling in his mind. Holding his cock in one hand, he lowered his body, settling between your thighs again. The first swipe of his tip along your cunt had him shuddering with pleasure.

Separating your delicate folds with his cock, he nudged your clit a few times. Your pussy twitched around him, and feeling that sensation through his cock only reaffirmed his reasons as to why he chose to do this. He was already obsessed, but that one taste of your cunt turned him feral, unable to restrain himself any further. He was too far gone, and he wouldn’t stop until he was buried deep inside you.

He slid his cock lower, guiding it towards your hole. Inch by inch, he pressed inside. Your tight cunt almost naturally pushed him out, your sleeping state squirming at the thick intrusion. He didn’t relent, he was going to have you one way or another. Bringing his free hand closer, his fingers circled your clit slowly, allowing you to open up to him.

“C’mon, princesa, I know you can take all of me,” he gritted through his teeth, your tightness almost overwhelming for him.

He pulled out until only his tip remained inside before pushing back in, forcing you to take him an inch deeper this time. His pace on your clit remained merciless and as he repeated his movements a few times, he was soon completely buried inside your pussy.

A low exhale left his lips as he savoured the tight walls of your cunt holding him inside, the heat welcoming him graciously. He held himself above you by his hands on each side of your head, his face hovering close to yours. “Thank you, mi vida, I knew you wouldn’t let me down,” he whispered almost reverently to your sleeping state.

Inhaling deeply, he began moving slowly, barely pulling out before burying himself to the hilt again. Burrowing his face into the crook of your neck, he set a steady pace of his hips moving back and forth. He placed lingering kisses below your ear, murmuring low praises in between his moans.

Your pussy greedily sucked him back in every time, earning a dark chuckle from him. “Oh, my sweet girl, if only you hadn’t made me wait so long.”

He slammed his hips into yours sharply, angling deep inside you to earn a twitch of your body. “I tried, you know, I really did,” he confessed, his breath ghosting the shell of your ear. “But every time you wore those—mierda—skimpy clothes around me,” he panted softly, “it was too hard.”

He continued whispering all his deepest, darkest confessions in your ear, knowing you weren’t awake to listen. “Had to jerk off so many times in the shower, thinkin’ ‘bout your sweet voice, to the way you say my name.”

As his words turned filthier, mingling with scattered praises, he picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming borderline brutal. Your body squirmed beneath him, jolting with the movements of the mattress shaking due to his weight. The headboard slammed against the wall with each thrust, but he was lost in the pleasure of your tight cunt to notice.

“I love you so much, mi princesa, and I promise I’ll give you a ring,” he reasoned, his thoughts melting into one jumbled mess. “Jus’ couldn’t wait.”

Suddenly, a loud broken cry left your lips as your body jolted beneath him. His movements faltered, watching you with wide eyes as you forced yourself to wake. When your gaze met his, a shroud of horror overtook your emotions. “Carlos—” you gasped, your mouth dropping open as you slowly realized the vulnerable position you were in.

He should’ve stopped, should’ve slipped out of your cunt the moment he realized you were awake—too early, he noted—but he didn’t. Sliding out almost completely, he slammed his hips into yours, his cock forcing itself into your cunt.

You screamed, horrified, yet it was tinged with a hint of pleasure—the only reaction he focused on. “Mi vida,” he tried, only to be met with a sudden force of your arms trying to push him away.

He merely chuckled, watching as you grew impatient with each shove yet you were still too weak, slowly coming to from the effects of the sleeping pill he had slipped into your meal. Tears filled your eyes when you realized he wasn’t relenting, your lip wobbling as fear filled your body.

He clicked his tongue in disapproval, bringing his fingers to your face, lightly brushing your cheek. “No, don’t cry, nena, I only want you to feel good,” he cooed.

His words clashed with his actions, his voice still dripping with sweetness but his cock continued to bully to your pussy. “Why?” you croaked, eyes nearly rolling back as an unwanted wave of pleasure coursed through you.

“Because I love you,” he simply replied, but it wasn’t the words you were hoping to hear. How could he love you and still force his way into your cunt, without your permission?

This wasn’t the Carlos you fell in love with, no, he was kind and caring. But now, trapped beneath him, you only saw desire in his eyes, those very eyes that once looked at you fondly were now replaced with the reflection of every dark thought that lodged its way into his mind.

His fingers returned to your clit, circling in time with his thrusts, earning a broken moan from you. A wicked smile graced his lips as he finally heard the sweet sound of your pleasure. “You like this,” he said calmly but you didn’t agree.

You began shaking your head violently, trying to contain the moans leaving your lips but it was too hard. This was the first time you were bestowed with such pleasure, enveloping you completely. You never expected it to happen this way, your virginity taken not by your husband on your wedding night but stolen from your boyfriend with cruel intentions.

“No, no, no, please stop,” you pleaded, but your actions weren’t cooperating with your words. Your legs tightened around his waist as you inched closer to the edge of your very first orgasm.

“Make up your mind, nena, you say you don’t want me, and yet…” he trailed off, angling his hips differently to thrust deeper inside, earning another moan you couldn’t contain. “...you’re clinging to me so desperately.”

“Please,” you cried, tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Please what? Let me make you feel good, like you deserve,” he punctuated his words with deliberate thrusts. Pleasure coursed through your veins like a spark, clouding your better judgement as you fell closer and closer to giving in.

When you didn’t respond, he doubled down, slipping his cock out of you for a brief moment, earning a cry of loss from your lips. He grinned, knowing he nearly had you exactly where he wanted you—begging, pleading to let you cum. “You’re mine, we both know that, why wait?”

He didn’t give you time to process his words, his strength overpowering yours as he flipped you over effortlessly, pressing you face down into the mattress. His hands gripped your shoulders with firm control, guiding you back onto his cock with a deliberate and unyielding force that left you breathless.

Each thrust of his hips drew muffled moans from your lips, the sounds swallowed by the soft embrace of the bedding as you buried your face to stifle your cries. Any semblance of dignity you had clung to slipped away completely, shattered the moment his hands claimed you with ill intentions—so dominating, so consuming that resistance felt futile.

His chest pressed flush against your back, the heat of his skin searing into yours as he slowed his pace, trading relentless urgency for deep, deliberate strokes. Each thrust felt more intense, his cock filling you completely, dragging out every sensation as he ground himself deeper with agonizing precision.

A shiver ran down your spine as his lips brushed against the back of your neck, soft and teasing as first, until he began trailing kisses lower. His lips moved with purpose, leaving a blazing path over the curve of your shoulder blades, before his teeth grazed your skin.

You gasped in surprise when he sucked harder, his mouth marking you with a bruise that promised to linger long after this moment. The sharp sting melded with the overwhelming pleasure, leaving you caught in a haze of sensation you couldn’t escape—ones he wouldn’t let you escape.

Each kiss, each bite, each slow, grinding thrust made it harder to think, harder to hold on to anything but the raw desire pooling in your core.

Your body trembled beneath him, every thrust breaking down the last of your defences, leaving you raw and exposed. The slow grind of his hips was torture, pushing you to the brink only to pull back, keeping you on the edge until the need became unbearable. You clawed at the sheets, your whimpers turning into desperate pleas as the fire in your core burned hotter, threatening to consume you.

“Please,” you gasped, your voice muffled against the mattress. “Please, I can’t take it anymore. Just—just take me. I’ll do anything.”

Carlos chuckled darkly, his lips grazing the back of your neck as he drove into you harder, his pace quickening, his control slipping. “Anything, huh?” his voice was rough, dripping with amusement and something darker, something that made your entire body shiver. “You’re finally giving in, princesa? Finally ready to stop pretending you don’t want this?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as you surrendered completely. “I’m yours. I’ll do whatever you want—just don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

“Good girl,” he growled, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrust harder, deeper, making you cry out. “That’s what I wanted to hear. You, begging for me. Pleading for me to fuck you.”

Your pussy clenched around him, the coil of pleasure winding impossibly tight as his words sent sparks of heat racing through you. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t focus on anything but him—his touch, his voice, the way he owned you completely.

“Gonna fill you with my cum, nena,” he rasped, his voice thick with lust. “Gonna get you pregnant with my babies before I even put a ring on your finger. How’s that for waiting ‘til marriage?”

The filthy promise made your head spin, the image too vivid, too overwhelming. The heat in your core shattered, a cry ripping from your throat as your orgasm washed over you, leaving you trembling and gasping beneath him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his pace growing erratic as your cunt milked him, dragging him to the edge. “You’re so perfect—so fucking perfect.”

With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself inside you, his release spilling into you in hot pulsing waves. His forehead pressed against your shoulder, his breath ragged as he let out a low, guttural groan.

“You feel that?” he murmured against your ear, his voice still rough, still full of that possessive edge that made you weak. “That’s me, claiming you. Making you mine.”

You couldn’t utter a word, your thoughts racing through your mind before you could comprehend them. Your body was still trembling as he stayed there, buried deep inside you, his hands never letting go. Finally, he eased out, earning a low, almost silent whimper from you. He carefully turned you around, able to see your tinged cheeks stained with tears.

He gripped your chin tightly, forcing you to meet his gaze. His cock twitched at the sight of your teary eyes, and the dark intensity in his gaze made your heart race, even as a sly, satisfied smirk spread across his lips.

“See, I know exactly what you want, what you need,” he said, his tone teasing but firm. “Don’t ever try to deny me again, nena, because this? This is just the beginning.”

His grip loosened, fingers brushing over your jaw as his smirk softened into something almost tender. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was slow, deliberate, and all-consuming, his tongue coaxing yours into submission. It wasn’t rough like before—it was possessive in a different way, claiming you in the quiet aftermath of his dominance. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours as the intensity in his gaze began to soften.

“You took me so well,” he murmured, his voice low and warm now, threading a hand through your hair. “Better than I could’ve imagined. You’re perfect, nena, just like this.”

He eased you back against the mattress, his body still covering yours but lighter now, more protective than overwhelming. His thumb stroked over your cheek, wiping away a stray tear as his lips brushed against your temple.

He cupped your face, tilting it up toward him again, his expression softer, though the possessiveness still lingered in his eyes. “Stay here,” he murmured, pressing one last kiss to your lips before slipping away.

You heard the sound of water running, the rustle of fabric as he moved around, and when he returned, he had a warm, damp cloth in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. He settled beside you, his touch impossibly gentle as he cleaned you up, murmuring soothing words each time you winced from the sensitivity.

“You did so good for me, princesa,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over your hip as he worked. “Took everything I gave you like you were made for it.”

When he finished, he set the cloth aside and pulled you into his arms, wrapping you in his warmth. His chest was solid against your cheek, his heartbeat steady and grounding as he stroked your back in slow, comforting circles.

“Gotta make sure my girl’s okay,” he said softly, the edge of dominance in his voice replaced with something deeper, almost protective. “You’re mine, nena. Mine to protect, mine to love, mine to ruin in all the ways you crave. And I’ll never let anything or anyone take you away from me.”

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tottentz · 10 months ago

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IN PRIVATE ── honkai star rail, nsfw, mdni ౨ৎ⠀⠀or little nasty things they do during sex ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ gender neutral reader⠀/⠀ft. aventurine, dr. ratio, gepard, blade, sunday, dan heng, jing yuan, argenti. ♡ˎˊ˗

— AVENTURINE ꩜.ᐟ ˗ˏˋwho guides your movements. aventurine becomes a gentle orchestrator, leading you through the delicate dance of intimacy. aventurine's presence becomes a steady anchor, guiding with a gentle yet confident touch a soft guidance that navigates the contours of desire with a tender assurance: his hands are soft, gentle, at your skin, at your hips, but his mouth is always brutal, suckling and nipping at any accessible skin. aventurine always busy himself by cleaving at every inch of your skin as if integrating every square inch of your withering figure into memory. each caress is a testament to his innate understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the deeper yearnings that he does not allow himself to express in words. and you just know he mean it when he holds your face with both hands, soft eyes smiling along with him when he succeeded; obtained your focus

— DR. RATIO ꩜.ᐟ ˗ˏˋwho has gentle but firm control. dr. ratio's touch is a blend of gentle guidance and confident assertion, navigating the dance of desire with a poised assurance. his touch, though restrained, carries a profound sense of understanding and expertise, navigating with precision and care even if he purposefully teased you to receive an earful of whiny whimpers that suggested he promptly exhort additional efforts or his cute, little lover would be compelled to execute empty threats. veritas presence exudes a calm authority, tempered by a keen intellect and a meticulous attention to detail. he struggles when conveying his harbored ardor, submitting to the intensity of heat that blossomed from the kindled fire of his heart, and so he claws the blunt tips of his fingers into your dough-like middle, eyelids fluttered to a gentle close as if he’d never receive another opportunity to hold you in his arms

— DAN HENG ꩜.ᐟ ˗ˏˋwho likes to mark your body. he doesn't even realize he has this thing until he finds himself immersed in fantasies where your body is adorned with the evidence of his fervent affection—subtle bites and tender marks, and then it became a tendency to leave something of him in you: whether a gentle bite or a lingering touch, it's his desire for connection and a need to leave a lasting impression. dan heng blames his counterpart for such a primal urge to claim and be claimed in return, but he had become so fascinated, bewitchingly enamored, by illustrated wonders of your body, yet he so quickly abandoned his previous enchantment to consume himself with your intoxicating touch. dan heng's gestures reveal a raw honesty, he fervently irons an abundance of disorderly suckles to your neck, bruising the heated skin with contortions molded as the shape of his lips.

— ARGENTI ꩜.ᐟ ˗ˏˋwho pace is slow and deliberate. argenti's touch is deliberate and measured, his movements are methodical and precise, revealing a patient nature. in the quiet moments shared, you feel his presence as a steady anchor, guiding the rhythm of shared desire with a tranquil assurance. argenti's deliberate approach reflects a respect for the moment and a commitment to mutual pleasure, because he can’t find the resolve to peel his eyes away because you are a descendant from the heavens; a gift of abundant blessings to an unforgiving mortal who had deemed himself unworthy of your grace, but he were no saint. his calm and composed presence creates a sanctuary where time seems to slow, as he leisurely swallows your exhales of bliss as if previously deprived from the touch of intimacy. argenti always strives to leave your knees weak and buckled.

— BLADE ꩜.ᐟ ˗ˏˋwho makes intense eye contact. blade harbors an ability to easily strip away what provisional confidence you previously claimed to possess. his gaze is impish; dark, divulging an impending uprising of unruly mischief. his crystalline optics glimmer beneath a murky coating, heavy lids droopy and irises fixated onto your figure as if he were presently eating you whole. blade just love the way he hums softly, cupping your cheek, thumbing away the tears you didn't notice spring into your eyes when he rendered your brain to mush and melted his forefront conscious into a haze of red lining. splotches of white dotted his vision, the colorless patches occasionally fading to reveal roads of gravel that endlessly stretched for miles. blade refuses to blink away the lovely sight of your countenance and meticulously etches the mesmerizing taste of your lips into lasting memory.

— JING YUAN ꩜.ᐟ ˗ˏˋwho needs to breed you. his focus is singular, his touch deliberate yet gentle, as if every gesture carries the weight of unspoken promises. you always end up burning up, flesh flushed and eyes distant as if you were captivated by reminisce. he always apologizes with a "just one more, please?" and you just know he is not sorry at all, not with his breathy groans and hearty moans, eagerly asking if you'd let her try again. she convinces you that the last attempts were flukes; a warm up for the final challenge he kisses you so so sweet, makes you forgot about the ache in your thighs. he never fails to leave your puckered lips swollen and quivering by the conclusion of his endeavor, leaning away to observe your dazed state with a satisfactory hum of approval, drawing near as to rekindle the bruising force of his lips upon your own.

— SUNDAY ꩜.ᐟ ˗ˏˋwho loves to see you cry. i'ts nothing, really. he just loves when you are brainless, thoughts melted into pretty pink goo oozing out of your ears onto the sheets, not a single brain cell active enough to answer him; because you are always good for him, always so sweet and kind and willing to give him whatever he wanted. his heart always softens at your tears. how could he say no to you? how could he deny those pretty eyes, so full of adoration and desperation then? so sweet. so lovely. he presses his forehead to you, and promise him the world. he makes you cum all over you again, only so he can see your teary face. and you always do, whining pitifully as you milk his cock for what it’s worth. he’s exhausted and broken and covered in cum and spit and lube, eyes filled with adoration as he looks at you. sunday, who gives you the loveliest pain.

— GEPARD ꩜.ᐟ ˗ˏˋwho overstim you. he hushes you, pace not even slowing down as he chases his own high. but even when you’re gasping for air, for consciousness, fucked into another realm now, he’s still relentless, fucking deep and hard. he fucks you through his own orgasm, not even caring about how sensitive his cock’s gone. he doesn’t care, just wants to take you over and over and over. but you don’t tell him to stop, never tell him to stop. how could you, when you’re the only thing he can take so freel? you’d rather die than take it away from him, so you let him overstimulate you and himself as he murmurs, “one more, please" and then he's holding you so close to him. he’s burning hot, skin flushed and calloused but you find no greater heaven than in his arms, in his embrace, against him flaming skin to flaming skin.

#honkai star rail x reader #aventurine x reader #dr ratio x reader #jing yuan x reader #sunday x reader #argenti x reader #blade x reader #honkai star rail #dan heng x reader #gepard x reader

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gtgbabie0 · 4 months ago

Text

{Werewolf!Girlfriend!Vi who gets extra needy when a full moon is approaching}

I indeed got freaky with it again. !!-18//MDNI-!!

Fuck the moon and its stupid ass phases. Vi hates it, the way it messes up with her hormones and emotions— her body clock all wonky. It’s a grasp that she can’t escape from no matter what she takes from those crazy quack doctors who have huddled themselves up in the nooks and crannies of Zaun, it always costs a pretty penny too. Money she didn’t have to be quite frank.

It leaves her with this dull throb at the base of her spine, an ache that slowly snakes around her body threatening to eat her whole. You're the only one who can subdue her better than those ointments and tea herbs- that honestly do more harm than good.

That’s why she’s staggering into your room through ragged breaths, using the pale moonlight that peaks through your curtains as guidance, the same taunting light that drips over your pretty face like some sort of beacon, calling her to you. Vi stumbles onto your bed— her face pressed into the soft fabric of your pillows that was absolutely drenched with the scent of you, which only fuels the fire in her.

Vi hated to wake you up, really she did, but she needed you, more than she had ever before… and okay maybe she says that every time but can you really blame her?

Either way, There’s no hesitation in how she shuffles closer to you, smushing her face into the crook of your neck with a low and desperate groan— big, rough hands pawing at your hips from above the blanket. “Please wake up baby, please, please.” Whispered from your neck until your pretty eyes are fluttering open.

The ticklish feeling of her ears twitching against your face keeps you from slipping back into dreamland, that and the way her hands had now disappeared beneath the covers to touch you— bandaged palms exploring the soft curves and dips of your body, slipping under your sleep shirt.

“Vi?— what time is it?” You huff groggily, turning your head to the side to try and look at your clock through bleary. She cups your jaw, turning your head back to her with a small, sheepish smile.“Don’t worry bout that,” her tone is draped in a heady whine of pure need.

Your brain was foggy and the situation wasn’t quite hitting you yet— you just kinda stare up at her in confusion. She lets out a low groan when you don’t immediately start giving her the attention she so clearly wants. Dropping her body on top of yours, looking down at you with glossy blue eyes— plump lips pursed out in a small pout as a whimper builds up in the back of her throat. “Do something, anything, please.” She sniffles, letting her head fall against your chest. “Need you.”

“What do you need hmm, puppy?” Oh god, ‘puppy?’… now you were just being mean weren’t you?

Her ears pin back, tail thwipping against your shin as she presses her face back into your neck— nosing at your jaw, inhaling you deeply. “Mmf, you. Your hands… can you, please?” She’s almost incoherent, drunk on desperation.

A shiver runs down her body, prickling at her skin as you drag your fingertips through her hair, gently scratching against her scalp and behind her ears that twitch against your palm happily. You’re hitting all the sensitive spots, the spots that draw pitiful sounds from her lips— oh the way she whines your name, nudging her head into your hand.

“Hngg, right there— there.” She huffs, breaths coming out in sharp, ragged pants when you hit that spot— the one that has her melting into your body, a dead weight draped over you, with her cheek smushed against your chest.

Vi, not so subtly, shifts her hips against your own— trying to grind against you all clumsily as you continue to pet over her head and ears. Then her fingers are curling around the waistband of your shorts, “Vi?… what’re you—” your hand stops as she fists the flimsy fabric, tugging them off with a huff.

“M’sorry baby… sorry, I just— I can smell you, s’not fair.” she pleads, taking a fistful of your thighs and pushing them down against the mattress— sharp canines on show as her hungry eyes drink in the sight of you, spread out, wet cunt glistening all for her. “Oh, ffffuck— pretty girl. S'all mine, yeah?” The words are drawled out in a groan.

“Mhm, yours Vi.” you agree, caving in as she presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth as if that'll make up for waking you up at this ungodly hour. You're positive you won't care in a couple of minutes.

Vi nips at the curve of your jaw as she crawls over you to grind her cunt onto yours. The fabric of her boxers are slick with a mixture of her and you— she’s completely lost in the feeling of your clits rubbing together, the way she can feel the throb of your pussy through her underwear and the breathy sounds you're making, it was so dizzying. The hot feeling of desperation so tightly coiled around her that she didn’t care about anything else except for her release, rutting against your cunt carelessly to chase after what she needed.

“Oh, Vi— mfm, take it easy puppy.” You gasp, hands grasping at her hips in a pointless attempt to slow her down— her movements borderline erratic.

She shakes her head, shoving her face into the crook of your neck with a broken cry of pleasure as she continues to rock her clothed cunt against yours, hands pawing at your thighs. “Can’t— I can’t, fuck— I can’t. I’m sorry, ahh!” She pants into the underside of your jaw, words muffled hotly into your skin as her orgasm washes over her, hips stuttering against yours before she goes boneless over the top of you in relief.

“S’okay pup… you’re okay—” you coo, slightly breathless, as you reach to pet the back of her head weakly. Vi doesn’t even give you a minute to catch your breath before she’s pushing herself back, shuffling her boxers off to reveal that damn trail of dark red hair before climbing back over you with a wolfish grin, whispering a lazy, “You’re so good to me pretty girl.” — and oh god, you were in for a long night.

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jubshead · 6 months ago

Text

𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜𝐤

Paring: Mentor!Lilia Calderu x Reader

Summary: With volatile and unpredictable magic you never know what can happen.

A/N: Still grasping how to write Lilia, so I hope it’s in character!

This isn’t beta read and english isn’t my mother language, so bear with me.

I hope you guys like it, let me know!!

Warning: Accidental magic, Magic cock, Blow jobs, Vaginal sex, Creampie, Large dick

Word count: 3.7k

Date: Nov 09, 2024

Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome!

Masterlist | Taglist | Read on ao3

Tag list: @yourbasicqueerie @mgruiz @yippie-kai-gay @confuseuniverse @aggieharkness @thesharkwhalewhoohooooo @walkethisway @honkhonktheslutshere @ratsnestinmyhair @audreylise @kenzie-floops @pattiluponespopcornmaker @moonlightprincess696 @trindad2k @etherynn @astrxinze

─────── ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ───────

The kettle makes a hissing sound, the boiling herbs fill the room with a sweet scent and the morning sun shines into the stove. The gray haired witch hums a tune under her breath and walks around the room, collecting more ingredients for the tea. She feels freshness in the air, an inkling that something good is about to happen.

Sundays are always calm, she closes up the shop for the day and entertains her apprentice. You’ve been working under Lilia’s guidance for a month, being the only witch in your family meant that no one could teach you. You were lucky enough to stumble upon her one day when browsing on your computer.

You aren’t a divination witch, you still don’t know what your deal is, but your magic is volatile and unpredictable. Lilia teaches you with the best of her abilities, and that is more than you could ask for, you look up to her and dream of reaching her level of wisdom.

As you enter the shop, you hear her moving around in the back. Walking into the room, you halt when the tarot reader stops in her tracks. Her entire body freezes and she lets out an unrestrained moan in the middle of the kitchen.

Pursing your lips, you wait for her ‘episode’ to end.

“Hi.” You let out timidly, standing by the bead curtain.

She turns around, wide eyed and arms raised in the air.

“Are you alright?” You ask, concerned.

She waves you off with a flick of her hands, facing the stove once again. Her visions always seem to sour her mood and leave you anxious, more times than not, she doesn’t know what they mean.

Passing the strap of your bag over your head, you place it on the squared table before heading to the counter. Resting your hip against it, you observe Lilia grab the kettle with a towel clad hand.

“Do you want some tea, doll?” She pours it in two mugs before waiting for an answer, you nod either way.

She passes you the ceramic cup and you rapidly grab into the handle when it burns you. The aroma hits your nose and you groan. Lilia always makes the best beverages and this time you smell a blend of lavender, lemongrass, and a few other herbs you couldn’t quite identify. The taste is as divine as the scent.

“How have you been this week?” She leans next to you.

“I’ve been fine.” You tell her uncertainty and amends. “There have been a few accidents…nothing I couldn’t handle, though.”

She hums into the mug as she takes a sip.

“And those ‘accidents’ were?” She probes.

Swallowing the liquid, you hide your face behind the cup.

“Okay. Let's start then. The sooner you can control your magic the better.” She walks past you, her robe fluttering behind her.

Leaving the empty cup in the sink, you follow her to the middle of the room.

“Did you practice what I told you?” She asks patiently.

“Hum…” You hesitate. “I did.”

“And?” All her weight shifts to one leg as she places a hand on her waist.

“Well, it worked!” You exclaim, trying to lay her off. She raises her eyebrows, waiting for you to continue. “To a certain extent…”

“Okay.” She takes a breath in and straightens her spine, arms at her side. “Show me.”

Transfiguration.

You’ve moved beyond learning how to change the corporeal form of an object, and have now evolved to modifying the physical appearance of yourself and others. What she’s teaching is pretty basic, but for someone who didn’t know she was a witch for most of her life, it’s hard to grasp, especially with a temperamental magic like yours.

Closing your eyes and concentrating, you feel goosebumps rise up on your skin as your magic flows through you. When your powers are under control, they feel like a waterfall being released, spreading over your body and consuming you. Outbursts were a very different story.

Opening your eyes, you see your mentor gently smiling at you.

“Good, that’s good.” She praises, and you break into a huge grin.

Receiving her approval is something that always warms your insides.

Grabbing your hairs ends, you observe the change in color. It wasn’t anything spectacular, but it was enough for you to see your improvement. You turn the purple strands back to their natural color.

“Great. My turn.” She says encouragingly.

Pressing your tongue against your lips, you grimace at her.

“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.”

“You have to learn.” She tells you firmly before adding. “As a witch, you must know how to defend yourself.”

You blink at her.

“Relax, baby. Anything you throw at me I can reverse.”

Your brain short circuits at the pet name.

That was probably your downfall. Lilia always tells you true witchcraft takes time and concentration, especially for beginners.

Her expectant face makes you close your eyes, and let the magic flow through you again, but this time it's different. Your head thinks of nothing else besides Lilia’s voice and how she called you, you can’t focus on your intention and you feel the spell going wrong before it’s completely finished. In an attempt to join your jumbled thoughts and the power running over your skin, you imagine Lilia with longer fingers.

It doesn't seem to work because in a few seconds you hear a screech.

“Divine Mother.”

Peaking through one eye, you first glance at her face, her reaction making you expect a major change in her appearance. She looks the same, her hair still tied up, her nose doesn’t look bigger like some sort of wicked witch and her eyes remain the same color, the only thing you notice is her shock.

Her arms are raised breast level and that’s the next thing you look at. Expecting sausage like fingers, you’re surprised when you’re met with her usual handful of rings.

“What?” You frown.

Your gaze drifts over her figure and that’s when you notice the bulge in her skirt.

Squinting, you almost crouch down to get a closer look. The thing is huge, cylindrical and pressing forward, clearly constricted by something. It takes a moment for your brain to catch up with what’s in front of you and you stare long enough for Lilia to clear her throat. You glance up and it dawns on you. Oh, god.

“What were you thinking about when you did the spell?” You gape like a fish out of water.

Was she honestly continuing the lesson as if this wasn’t happening?

“Well, I wasn’t…I wasn’t thinking about that.” You gesticulate widely, a blush rising in your cheeks.

She pinches the bridge of her nose and sways. The movement makes her skirt brush against the hard on and you gulp when your vision is automatically drawn to it.

“Concentrate.” She tells you firmly and you meet her eyes, pursing your lips.

“Why are you losing? That’s a simple transfiguration spell, you can undo it. You just told me that!”

“No, it isn’t.” She speaks calmly, noticing she’s making you anxious. “This is a magical penis, a much more advanced incantation. You shouldn’t be able to do this at this stage.”

“Okay…?”

“There’s no way I can make this go away.” She speaks to you like someone does to a child.

“What?” You ask, agitated.

“Advanced magic, harder to undo.” She tells you simply. “There’s only two ways to get rid of it. The caster has to be the one to take it away.”

“Well, let's do it. It’s not that difficult, right? I’ve already put it there.” You respond with renewed energy, waving at her crotch.

This is not going to be a bigger problem than it should.

“No, it’s not easy. You did this by accident.” Your sight strays to it again and it looks like it’s staring right back at you. “You need to focus this time, so you can do it consciously.”

You hum absently before closing your eyes. The problem is: the image of that monster is buried in your brain. You focus on it, but the only thing that crosses your mind is its size, what it would be like to have it throbbing in your hands, pounding into you...

“Stop, stop, stop.” Lilia huffs in front of you, turning around and sitting on the armchair.

“What, what is it?” You follow her and stand by her side, she rests her forehead on her propped hand, eyes closed.

“You made it bigger.” She tells you pointedly.

The penis really does seem magic, it hypnotizes you and you can’t take your eyes off it. Whenever you notice Lilia isn’t looking, you glance down, partially seeing the bulge covered by her dress and robe.

Wetting your lips, you ask. “Well, what is the other way?”

“Huh?” She’s clearly lost in thoughts.

Moving to perch in front of her, you focus on her face.

“You said there are two ways to get rid of it. We tried the first one, what is the second?”

She presses her lips and you wait.

“It needs…release.”

“Oh.” You slowly back away towards the door. “I’ll leave and you can…y’know?” You finish by making a lewd motion.

She narrows her eyes, you stop dead in your treks. A small breeze fills the room as you linger, sensing there’s something more.

“It needs to be sheathed.” She pauses. “Climax inside something.”

You take a deep breath before asking. “Is there…Is there someone who can help you?”

God, you didn’t know anything about her personal life. Meeting every sunday meant you’ve only seen each other about four times, and there couldn’t be a worse situation to ask her that.

“No.” She tells you and, by the way she answers, you refrain from making any more questions.

The morning sun shines over the room, in the distance you hear cars passing by on the street and the silence hangs as you stare at each other.

You are embarrassed to admit, but it doesn’t take long for you to reach a decision. As much as you try to fool yourself by claiming that you wanted to help because you were the one who put her in this situation, you know it’s bullshit. Lilia has you on her hands, you’ve been attracted to her from the start and there weren't enough words to describe what she does to you.

Watching as she looks up, praying to her goddess, you move. She brings her head down to follow you with her eyes as you kneel in front of her.

“What are you doing?” She asks you seriously.

“I’m helping you.” You respond, lightly placing your hands on her calves.

Her palm rests on your cheek and you lean into it.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“I want to do it. It's my fault you’re like this.” Seeing the hesitation in her face, you grab her wrist. “Please, let me.”

She stares you down and gives you a tight smile.

“I- Are you sure?”

You nod more excitedly than you should, the eagerness accidently showing on your face.

She doesn’t say anything else, so you take it as a ‘yes’. Her body is leaning forward, her elbows resting on the arms of the reclining chair and you feel how tense she is. The bulge is right in your face and with trembling hands you roll up her skirt.

The gasp that leaves you is involuntary. Butchin her dress at the waist, you take a moment to look at it. It’s mostly constricted by her underwear, but you can clearly see how big it is. You take a deep breath before pulling her panties down.

You stare open mouthed. The length is as white as her skin, the head is a light pink and a few gray hairs dust her balls. It weirdly matches her and stands proudly in front of you. The hard on seems painful.

A monster indeed.

“This looks uncomfortable.” You mumble, unable to take your eyes off it.

“It is.” A constrained chuckle follows the statement.

Biting your lips, you wonder how to approach this. You’ve never been a blowjob type of girl, when you used to date men you always avoided as much as you could, and even when you did it, it wasn’t enjoyable. This feels different, though. Your underwear is already wet just by thinking about it.

Your mentor clears her throat and you peer up at her.

“You don’t have to do this.” Her hand runs through your hair.

“Lilia, relax.” You tell her forcefully and grab her thighs.

One of your hands circles it and her hips buckle, palms fly back to the armchair and nails bite into the fabric as you slowly start to move. By the way it looks, it won’t take long for her to come and a feeling of disappointment dawns on you. It makes sense for a magical penis to be ready for action, but you wish you could take your time with it.

Running your thumb from the base all the way to the head, you collect the pre-cum in there before pushing it back and making the same path with your tongue. Lilia groans and you feel her tension melting a notch. You replace your fingers with your mouth, licking the bead before swallowing it whole.

It doesn’t take a genius to notice that this thing isn’t going down your throat without choking you, so you focus on what you can do. Taking as much as you can, you make up for the rest with an unclosed fist, using just the right amount of pressure so as to not hurt her.

Sucking tentatively, you hear a moan and look up. Lilia’s eyes are close, mouth open as her chest rises rhythmically with her anticipated breath. Her fingers are white from the grip, and you realize she’s holding herself back from grabbing your head and forcing you down.

You groan over the cock and bob around it, your palm going to her balls and massaging them. Eyes fixated, you watch her every reaction as she stiffens under you.

You feel your arousal beneath your own skirt, it clings to your core and you refrain from using your free hand to touch yourself, compensating by placing your heel under you and matching the movement of your hips with the one of your head.

Taking a moment to breathe, you feel hands sweeping through your bangs. Glancing up, your eyes meet your mentor’s and you blush when she grabs your hair like a ponytail, taking it out of your face.

“You’re doing great, doll.” Her voice is husky, you squirm against your feet.

God, this is not helping.

You swallow at the praise and focus on your job. Still looking into her eyes, you descend and take it as much as it goes, swirling your tongue around it and bouncing as fast as you can. She tugs your hair harder and you whine against her skin, the vibration making her tear her eyes away as she throws her head back, letting out unrestrained moans as slurping sounds leave your mouth.

Grinding your hips against your heel, you feel yourself getting wetter by the second and curse for having to take care of it alone. Her groin starts to move in its own accord, she doesn’t even seem to notice as her crotch drives up and harder into your mouth, you swallow and swallow against her, focusing on your breath and controlling the rhythm. She isn’t forcing your head, just holding it and that’s fine, it’s hot that she doesn’t want to hurt you.

Drool starts to drip down your chin and you moan louder against her, feeling the erratic movement against your clit picking up speed alongside your head. You close your eyes and take in both sensations. After all, it isn’t everyday that you get to suck your mentor’s dick.

You force your head back and inhale deeply, the faster the movement, the harder it is to breathe. Your hand continues the work and the other one joins in, circling her head and pressing it.

Pushing her cock closer to her skirt, you go down to her balls, sucking one into your mouth and sooner than you expected, her whole body tightens. She lets out a loud moan and her nails sink into your scalp, you quickly try to catch her climax in your mouth before it’s too late.

An inch away, you feel a sticky consistency gushing onto your face, landing inside your mouth all the way up to your forehead.

You grimace and lick your lips, tasting the saltiness of her cum.

Passing your finger over your eyelids, you sculpt most of the liquid and open them when you hear a ‘thud’ above you. Lilia banging her head against the armchair.

“Goddammit.” Her chest rises and falls with her erratic breath, there’s a red hue on her cheeks.

“Sorry.” You mumble.

“It’s not your fault. I should have warned you.” She looks down and shock flashes across her face.

You must be quite an image with cum stuck in your hair and dripping down your face. She stares at you for a long time and you squirm, taking your heel out from under you before anything else happens.

“We can try something else.” You whisper.

“No, love. You’ve already helped more than you should. I don't want to force you a second time.” She runs her thumb over your cheek, vaguely attempting to tidy you up.

“You didn’t force me, and I’ve told you before that I don’t mind.” Emphasizing your statement, you grab her wrist and bring her finger to your mouth, sucking, licking and moaning around it.

Her pupils blow hide and she turns serious, following your movement as you stand up in front of her, lifting your short skirt and straddling her lap.

She stares at you, eyes slightly wide and lips parted. The erection stands between you, a magic cock apparently only goes down once it services its purpose. Your wet underwear touches her thighs and a beat passes before you gather enough courage to lean forward.

Grabbing her neck, you give her time to pull away. Surprising you, she grabs your wrists and pulls you forward, crashing your mouths together. Moaning, you let her tongue guide the rhythm, she makes slow movements, exploring your mouth like she wants to taste as much as she can. The kiss is languid and teasing, she takes her sweet time and you begin to rub your soaked core against her legs.

Separating, you watch as she licks her lips, looking at you like she wants to eat you alive. You brush your underwear against her cock and she groans, grabbing your waist. You’re so painfully turned on that you don’t even wait for her to say anything before you reach down and push your panties aside.

Rubbing against the hard cock, you try coating it with as much of your wetness as you can. It’s been a while since you had anything this big inside you, if ever. It looks a lot bigger than the ones you’ve seen, your hand hadn’t closed around it before.

It’s going to be a stretch.

You take a deep breath before raising up on your knees, you brush the head against your entrance and Lilia’s grip hardens. Sinking down on the tip, you pause, licking your lips before continuing. You take it half way in before stopping. This shit wasn’t only wide, its length was something you had never seen before.

Noticing your struggle, the gray haired witch leans forward, attacking your neck and sliding your shirt straps down. Her hands run from your waist to your breast, her fingers pinch your nipples and you moan, feeling wetness stick to your thigh before your core swallows more of her skin.

Slowly sitting, you feel your center stretching before your ass finally meets her balls. You halt, adjusting to the sting. Lilia’s work on your tits helps. Your spine is slightly curved as she grips your ribs and her mouth bites and sucks your chest. You feel hickeys forming in your neck and you can bet she did it on purpose, you’d have to walk around with those purple marks for about a week.

She runs her tongue over your nipple while her hand massages your other breast. You begin to slowly grind your hips in circles motion, a vibration reverberating through your chest as she moans.

Accepting the pain as pleasure, you lift yourself once and then lower. Your mentor stops her work and bites into your neck, hands gripping your waist tightly as she helps you with your movement.

You’re so desperate that you can’t even tease her, after trying once, you continue, picking up speed with Lilia’s assistance. You’re both so aroused you can feel your orgasm building up rapidly. Throwing your head back, you moan without restrain, mirroring your mentor’s groans against your neck. Her arm circles your hip and she slams into you, meeting you halfway.

Her cock is so big, you can feel it beating against your cervix and hitting all the right places as it fills you up. Her free hand goes down and finds your clit easily, rubbing in circular motions. You let out a cry and your movements become erratic, determinedly chasing your release as your walls grip her.

She’s clearly holding back and when your movements become sloppy as your body goes rigid, she lets go. You both come together, ragged breaths mingling and sweat clinging to your foreheads.

You feel her cum filling you up, the hot liquid doesn’t seem to stop and you kiss her once more as she spurts inside you. This time the kiss is faster, harder as you pull her hair and whine against her when she grabs your ass and accidentally rubs your clit against her skin.

The cum starts to run down your thighs and wet the fabrics between you, her cock still throbs inside and you feel her balls shrinking in size. There’s an absurd amount of fluid and you groan against the kiss, the cum making you excited once again.

Pulling back, you focus on the feeling of her cock decreasing inside you as it disappears, you instantly miss the feeling of fullness.

Kissing her for a third time, you calmly run your tongue against hers as you replay all this morning's events. Thanking your magic for the mishap, your eyes widen when you remember something important. You pull back.

Licking your suddenly dry lips, you frown at her and whisper.

“Should we have used a condom?”

Her mouth drops open.

#agatha all along #lilia calderu #patti lupone #lilia calderu x reader #lilia x reader #patti lupone x reader #jubshead fics

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sleeplessdove · 4 months ago

Text

be a body

e. williams x fem! reader

synopsis: the thrill of firing your girlfriend’s gun is greater than you could have ever imagined

a/n: wrote while high & not proofread !

warnings: dark themes !!! outdoor/public sex, gun usage that is incredibly irresponsible, do not do any of this !!!, gun used for penetration, r! gets eaten out, pet names, established relationship, heavy dom/sub themes!!!, slapping, r! is described more as a femme, predator/prey kink (?), gun kink, fear play, power imbalance, and lots more !

wc: 2.3k

You can feel her hand tightening against yours, as if daring you to finally pull the trigger. Even with no exchange of words, you understand why she is being so patient. She is measuring your breaths, waiting for you to slip up. Both of you know you’re out of your element but she needs to be able to prove it through your own actions.

The weapon is dreadfully heavy and if Ellie’s hands weren’t guiding your own, you would’ve dropped it ages ago. A heavy silence falls between the two of you, the only sound being caused by your short and panicked breaths. But all the while, her breaths remained calm and had a natural ease to them.

The amount of power she had at this moment left you petrified, and yet you never wanted this to end. You could feel her breath fluttering against your skin as she lowered her lips towards your neck, placing a tender kiss against it before speaking.

“Take it nice n’ slow, sweetheart”

In an instant, your whole body seemed to relax and it was as if the entire world had just gone silent. Your eyes locked onto the empty beer bottle Ellie had so kindly put out for you as target practice, and you finally felt that you were seeing it clearly. You took in a deep breath, exhaling from your mouth as you finally pressed down against the trigger enough to cause it to fire.

The sound is disruptive to say the least, your body tensing as your ears begin to ring. It takes a moment for your mind to even register that before the ringing began, you could clearly hear the glass bottle shattering. Relief flooded every inch of your body, pride swelling in your chest.

Your moment of triumph was interrupted as Ellie pulled the gun from your hands with very little effort, your eyes following the movements of her fingers as she turned the safety back on and slid her favorite handgun back into the holster she always wore on her thigh.

She turns your body so you’re facing her, her strong hands firmly gripping your hips. “Look at you, little miss perfect, hm?” she questions with a smile that feels mocking but some part of you is truly soothed by it.

You shake your head, a bashfulness growing deep inside of you that had been planted by the attention Ellie gave you. “I only got it cause you were helping” you mutter, your words small and passive.

“And she’s modest too” Ellie quips playfully, always seeming to bask in the glow that came with teasing you endlessly. Her firm hold on your hips seems to lighten up, leaving your body to sway a bit, lost without her guidance. But soon enough, her hands begin to trail up your body.

Every curve of your body is traced by her skilled fingers, as if she were molding you into something new, something you had always wanted to be. The feel of her rough hands came with a whirlwind of emotions, leaving you feeling breathless. At the same time you had never felt such euphoria, the rush of proving yourself to Ellie mixed with the fear of being in the woods with your armed girlfriend making everything feel like a dream.

The cold air bites your skin as she pushes up your sweater, the realization that the two of you were out where anyone could see you making you tense in the slightest. She is quick to soothe you, leaning down to drag her tongue against the pulse point on your neck. A filthy moan leaves Ellie’s lips as she feels the wild beat of your heart against her own tongue.

It’s a reminder that she is the one in control, and she can’t help but gently graze her teeth against the flesh, although she eternally wishes to simply sink her teeth into you. She is only being gentle because she wants to make you wait for the pleasure you are seeking out.

“Please” you breathe out, unsure of what you’re even asking for at this point. You’d take anything from her, whether it be a kiss or a punch, anything was better than her punishingly slow pace.

Your plea only makes her scoff and she makes a point of pressing a messy kiss against your neck before she finally moves so that the two of you are eye to eye. “Do you really think you’re the one in charge here?” she questions, feigning curiosity. When you only frown at her, she moves one hand away from your body and uses it to lightly slap your cheek.

“I asked you a question” she adds on, her tone no longer playful. The small slap was barely enough to cause a sting but it left you reeling, the small correction instantly putting you back in your place.

“No, I don’t” you finally mutter, speaking the truth since there was no other option. Your words must have been correct, as Ellie’s expression becomes much warmer after you speak. “That’s what I thought” she hums, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

To be rewarded for such words makes you dizzy with delight, the feeling of everything being out of your control somehow managing to calm you. When she finally kisses your lips, it’s as if the gates of Heaven had opened for you.

Her tongue was akin to velvet, so warm and inviting as it slid against your own. Despite your own desperation, Ellie keeps the kiss slow and behaves as if she has all the time in the world with you.

She shushes the borderline pitiful whines that fall from your lips when she pulls away, although she makes up for it by trailing kisses down your clothed body. You watch as she kneels before you, pushing you back against the large tree behind you. Once she has you pinned there, she begins to behave like a woman starved.

With reverent movements, she kisses your thighs that were still covered by tights and bunches up your skirt between her fists. It feels dirty in a way you can’t quite describe, but it makes your cunt ache with need. “You did so good, following my directions cause you’re so smart” she praises, her moans mixing with her words seamlessly.

Your body practically trembles beneath her grasp, immediately moving your hips to help her tug down your skirt along with your tights. It’s not rushed, as Ellie loves to take her time with you. “Maybe we should’ve come on a warmer day” she comments, noticing the way the cold breeze had you shaking.

“No, no. Today is perfect, I like it” you reassure breathlessly, needing Ellie to not have a single bit of hesitance while touching you. Your quick reply makes her grin and she traces her fingers along the cotton material of your panties.

The sight of the cute bunny printed onto the front of your panties makes her heart swell with adoration and she can’t help but lean down to press a kiss against the little bunny. “You’re the sweetest little thing I’ve ever seen” she states as if it were the most truthful words that had ever left her lips.

You can only let out huffs and broken moans as she finally tugs your panties down past your thighs, doing your best to spread your legs while still leaning against the hard bark of the tree.

She spreads you open for her own viewing pleasure, finding solace only when she’s buried between your thighs. You thread your fingers through her hair, tugging just enough to have her groaning. There is no doubt that you should be ashamed but when Ellie is treating your body as if it’s something holy, you can’t think straight.

When she dips her head down and you feel the sloppy kiss she presses against your clit, you let out a moan that rumbles deep within your chest. You don’t dare to press her mouth closer to you, knowing there would be immediate consequences to your actions.

So you’re forced to endure the slow kisses she trails all along your most intimate area, her tongue lapping at your slit ever so gently. The mere tip of her tongue had you holding onto the tree that kept you steady, the bark cracking under your fingers.

“Did holding my gun get you all worked up, bunny? Did you feel all powerful?” she questions, her mouth so close to your cunt as she speaks that you can feel her breath against you. It leaves you squirming, unsure if you want her to do more or less.

“Felt nice to hold, really nice” you whisper, being given no time to react as she turns you so that you are bent over and holding on to the tree. “Yeah, baby? It sounds like you love my gun just as much as you love me” she coos, using her thumbs to spread open your cunt once more, the new angle letting her see you on a deeper level.

“There’s my pretty girl” she praises, and you’re unsure if she is speaking about you or your cunt. Either way, you feel your face heat up from all the praise she has been giving you. You’re sticky with arousal and Ellie can’t deny herself any longer.

She leans closer, remaining on her knees behind you as she begins to feverishly eat you out. Her tongue flattens against your slit only to move back upwards so she can flick her tongue mercilessly against your twitching clit. When she closes her lips around your bud and begins to suck, your hips jerk involuntarily.

“No, want you inside” you plead with a mewl, needing to feel connected with her. Although you know you’re asking for the impossible, as out in the middle of the woods Ellie couldn’t just grab her strap to fuck you brains out.

However to your surprise, she is immediately able to find a way to give you the contact you are seeking out. She nudges her tongue against your slit carefully before slowly sinking it inside, fucking you on her tongue.

It’s not nearly as deep as her strap could reach but in that moment, it’s all you needed. Her mouth is hot against you, her spit dripping down her chin as she worships your pussy.

You’re so lost in the blinding pleasure that you don’t even realize the movements Ellie has made, that is until it’s too late. She knows you're close and yet she pulls away, leaving you aching for more.

“Shhhhh, princess. I’ve got just what you’ve been begging for” she soothes, pressing the warm barrel of the gun against your hole that was still clenching around nothing.

The strange feeling is enough to make you turn your head so you can glance back at her, your eyes wide with fear. Ellie uses her free hand to gently rub against the skin of your thigh, offering an understanding smile. “The safety’s on, promise. But if you wanna stop, you can tell me” she says in a calm voice that could’ve made you melt.

No matter the shame you felt, you couldn’t deny that she was right, that this is what you wanted. “Need it…” you confess, as if pleading with her to push it inside. Your words are enough for Ellie to lose any sense of hesitation, her finger gently circling your clit while she pushes the tip of her gun inside you.

It’s warm from the recent firing of it but much smoother than you expected, the attention to your clit making the stretch much easier since you were preoccupied with ecstasy. “That’s it, baby. Look at this pretty pussy, all spread open n’ fuckin’ dripping for me” she says in a rough voice, getting worked up just from watching you.

The thrusts from the weapon are deep and slow, letting you feel every detail of the gun inside you. The mix of fear and arousal creates something delicious and you know that you can’t hold on much longer.

“Can I cum, please? I’ve been so good, did everything you told me to” you beg, needing her permission and approval for every little thing. Ellie sighs, as if saddened that this moment will be coming to an end but she still speeds up the thrusts for you, wanting to help you finish.

“Of course, bun. C’mon, cum on my gun the same way you cum on my cock” she encourages, her words beyond dirty yet neither of you cared. The sound of her voice is all you need before you’re crying out her name, creaming around the still warm weapon.

Ellie curses as she watches your pussy clamp down on her handgun like a silk vice, pulling it from your body carefully so she can see your dripping core that she had just stretched open with her weapon of choice.

“Jesus fuck, you’re gonna help me clean this up” she mutters as she observes her gun that was now a complete mess of your juices. You can only groan in response, in no mood to help her clean her guns after she just pushed your body to its limit.

When she realizes how out of it you are, she simply tucks away her gun and tugs your clothes back into place so you’re at least covered up. “Once we get back, I’ll give you what you want, alright?” she promises, standing up and not caring to dust the dirt off her knees.

You can’t stop the pleased smile that spreads onto your lips, nodding contently before she gives your ass a gentle smack to get you to move on your own. The soreness is beginning to build in your body but Ellie lets you lean against her as the two of you walk back to the cabin.

The fear from earlier lingers a bit but it only makes you more eager to reach your shared bedroom so that you can feel her tender touch that never failed to make the world feel like a perfect place.

#ellie williams smut #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x f!reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams oneshot #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams

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