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toxicanonymity · 1 year

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can you do really like possessive joel. like she posts a pic of herself in a skin tight dress or bathing suit and joel literally makes her delete it. joel would be like “why should anyone else but me see that?” or he’s like “are u upsetting me on purpose, baby?” ykwim like manipulating possessive joel

Snapchat

1.1k, stepdad!Joel x f!reader

stepdad master | joel master

SUMMARY: You snapchat Joel some steamy videos and his responses are sexy. Then you show up at his house and before you go inside, you post a pic on insta that he thinks should be just for him.

NSFW 18+ big girthy legal age gap, possessive!Joel, sexting, stepcest, mutual masturbation, vaginal fingering, angst/guilt

A/N: Instagram but can be read alone. NEXT: Uber

After you caught Joel jerking off to your instagram and made him finish in front of you, you texted him, “no one uses instagram anymore. you should get snapchat” and gave him your username.

Now, a few times a week, you’ll snap him something sexy. It's nothing explicit, just enough skin to drive him crazy. More skin than instagram. His reaction is always hot. Sometimes just a chat like “wish I could put my head between those legs” or “why do you have to be so goddamn hot?” Sometimes a selfie with that dark, horny look in his eye. Or a POV shot of a bulge in his pants. One time he sends a video where he’s just shaking his head slowly and says “you dunno what you’re doin’ to me baby,” then takes a deep breath and says “god damn,” and his arm starts moving slowly with his hand off screen in his lap.

He doesn't realize you can see his screenshot activity until you tell him and he responds with a 😳. That sets off an ongoing casual text dialogue, and it would feel like you’re “talking,” if it weren’t for him being married to your mother.

You frequently think about his cock, and his hand wrapped around it, and the hunger in his eyes as he looked at you. Even more than that, you think about the way he helped you finish without even touching you. Especially the way he rubbed his own inner thigh. Almost every time you come, you end up thinking about his big veiny hand slowly stroking his pants right next to his package, eating you with his eyes while he watches you touch yourself.

Thinking about it isn’t enough. You need him to touch you, and you want to find out whether he needs to touch you just as bad. You stop sending him sexy pictures on snapchat. He’s a little needy but you don’t relent. You stop by their house when you know he’ll be alone, and when you get there, you post a swimsuit picture to instagram. When you go inside, he’s in the office and has your instagram pulled up. You lean against the door frame wearing the same swimsuit under a long cover up.

He turns around and says, “What is this about, sweetie?”

“Thought you liked seeing me.”

“Does everyone have to?” he asks. He’s trying to be nice but he’s annoyed.

“Why do you care? If you can’t touch me, no one can even see me?

He sighs. “So you’re punishing me for not cheating on your mom?”

You walk into the office and lean against the wall to his side. “It’s a picture. What’s the big deal?”

He gets up from the chair and your eyes fall on the bulge in his pants as he walks toward you and doesn’t stop until he’s right up against you, poking you with his hard package, sending a bolt of desire right through you. He brings his lips to your ear. “This what you want? You’ve made your point. Now delete it.” He goes back to the desk and sits down.

“Delete it or what?”

“Or this is over. No texting, no snapchat. If you’re not mature enough not to punish me. . .”

Your face burns. How dare he. . .

“You can delete it yourself,” you say. “If you rub one out right now.” You take off the swimsuit cover up, slip off your sandals, and sit on his desk right in front of him.

He looks back and forth between your breasts then down your body. “You’re tryin’ to kill me.”

He leans back in the chair and his hand rests right against his inner thigh, giving you a Pavlovian burst of arousal. Your clit twitches.

He frees his stiff member from his pants and holds out his hand for you to spit in. Filthy. You grab his hand and lick it instead of spitting on it, then take his fingers into your mouth two at a time and suck before finally spitting in his palm.

“We both know you have lotion down here,” you say.

“He glares at you as he pumps himself slowly. You lean back on his desk, and he inhales deeply. He rolls the chair back, either to get a better view or because he doesn’t trust himself.

You clench your thighs.

He asks, “you’re not gonna . . . ?”

“Do you want me to?”

“You know damn well I do.” He keeps choking his hard cock, devouring the view.

You slowly ghost your clit over your bathing suit.

He breathes heavily, moans, and his eyes seem a little heavier with each stroke. “Show me,” he says.”

You pull your swimsuit to the side, partly exposing yourself, and glide your fingers up and down your wet seam, poking under your swimsuit. He groans and looks like he could cry. You spread your legs and expose yourself entirely.

“Fuuuck,” he exhales and looks to the ceiling for a beat before returning his gaze between your legs where you’re stroking yourself with two fingers. He scans your entire body then says, “put one in.”

“No,” you reply.

“You get off on bein’ a brat?”

“Want a finger in me that bad, do it yourself.” You slide down so you’re leaning against the desk, still partly on it, stroking your wet folds and clit, getting so wound up you can hardly stand not having his hands on you.

He stares at you for a long ten seconds, chest rising and falling, his strokes becoming faster. Meanwhile your own climax is looming closer and larger every minute.

“Fuck,” he says with resignation in his eyes. He stands up, steps forward and his free hand engulfs your dripping seam while he inhales your hair and stands right up against you. He rubs your slick, throbbing cunt with three flattened fingers as he pumps himself with his other hand. You tilt your head up to watch his brows furrow even more. He plunges a finger into you, and right away he shudders as his cum spills into his other hand. He curls his finger inside you and his thumb works your clit and it doesn’t take long until you’re clenching around his one, thick finger, saying “Ah, fuck. . . Joel, yeah. . .”

“Don’t say my name like that," he pants and reaches for a tissue.

Your temples feel weak.

“. . .I won’t ever stop hearin’ it.”

You put your cover-up back on.

He sits down in the chair, looks at the ceiling and says, “Damn it.”

“What?”

He bows his head and slowly shakes it. He won't look at you. He doesn’t have to say it. You try not to think about it.

True to your word, you pull up the instagram photo and hand him your phone. He checks the likes on the picture and goes to every guy’s profile. His eyes darken.

“Guess you’re right,” he admits. “Don’t want anyone else to have ya. . . ” He deletes the picture and looks at you regretfully, making eye contact for the first time since he finished. “I know it’s not fair.” He hands the phone back. “I dunno what to tell ya, sweetie. . . I’m sorry.”

All joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxiousus @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose

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skrunklybf-archived · 2 years

Text

bad influence!

pairing: step-brother!connie x reader x jean

warnings: dark content! step-cest! smut! mdni!!! maybe ooc?

tags: mfm threesome, dubcon(?), smoking weed, they're all high it's whatever, step-cest, unprotected sex, creampie, doggystyle, blowjob, swallowing, praise, pet names, almost getting caught, not proofread

notes: hi i'm not dead 🤪 take this connie/jean smut as a peace offering mayhaps?? reblogs are appreciated as always xoxo love you stay safe

"I know you have shit in here, so you better share or I'm snitching."

You raise your gaze from the game on your phone to the young men inviting themselves into your room. Jean leans back against the door and closes it with a soft click, much softer than the threat Connie entered with. You cock a brow, unamused.

"What?"

"You know what."

Connie, despite the faux menacing look he gives you, emits the familiar air of playfulness he's known for. He crosses the space between your door and your bed in record speed, diving for the little table next to your head. Dexterous hands scavenge through the drawers and ignore the annoyed protests you shoot at him.

"Dude, fuck off!"

"You fuck off," Connie dodges your swatting hands and plucks a tie-dye colored jar from the bottom drawer, "holding out on your poor, misfortunate brother. You should be ashamed of yourself." It'd be a surprise if you couldn't see the your own brain with how hard your eyes rolled themselves back.

Your step-mom had been adamant about Connie staying clean after a rather hilarious call she received from him at three in the morning, begging her to come pick him up from the side of the road. He'd gotten away with just a warning from a "generous" officer that night, meanwhile you had gotten plenty to make fun of him for and his mom gained a bargaining chip she'd been putting to good use. The house had never been more bleach-and-lemon scented.

"Oh, boo hoo," you fake cry, jutting your bottom lip out in a pouty fashion, "maybe don't get pulled over with your dumbass friends next time, Con."

"Hey," Jean pipes up from his stationary position at the door, seemingly offended but grinning all the while. Connie tosses the jar from hand to hand casually, trying to ignore the big doe eyes you shoot him in your little mockery scene. "Not my fault Sasha drives like a menace," he replies, twisting open the lid and taking a deep sniff of the flowery contents. Lost in an overdramatized state of bliss, he fails to notice you sitting up and snatching your weed jar right out of his hand. Connie whines at the loss. "C'mon, just smoke us up one time." he begs much like a puppy, even going so far as to clasp his hands together in a cartoony fashion.

Your lip twitches.

"Just me and Jean," he continues, "Sasha's on house arrest until further notice. Her dad was pretty pissed, won't let her leave."

A conniving and dark chuckle surprises your step-brother and his oddly quiet friend, coming straight from your chest. The little jar suddenly feels so heavy in your hand, weighed down like a giant golden poker chip. "So, you come to me in your time of need," you slur out dramatically, "on the day of my daughter's wedding--"

"Alright alright, cut the shit, you're weirding me out. What do you want? I already have to clean the damn house for two months."

Connie almost looks nervous before you, switching his weight between his feet. This is a strange sight for you; he's usually boisterous, carefree, charismatic. You pull your feet up to sit criss-cross on the bed. A thoughtful look passes over your face. "You gotta walk Scout--"

"Done."

"Okay, fiend, I wasn't done."

"Whatever you want, I don't caaaaare. Just smoke with us."

Jean was easy to forget about in the moment, sitting as a hopeful but cautious observer a ways away. You blink at him, off-color thoughts dripping into your sleepy brain like a shoddy faucet.

"Fine. Garage."

Okay, so maybe your mind wasn't pure and fluffy and wholesome, and maybe some would label you a dog for these fleeting thoughts that came to you in the strangest moments. Maybe you shouldn't be feeling that heavy, burning sensation in the pit of your belly when your step-brother takes an unnecessarily strong drag off the blunt, bathing his face in an orangey glow from the cherry. Connie always had a fresh face, a contagious grin that got to you in ways that it most likely shouldn't have, given your relationship.

Well, technically, your parents relationship -- one that began right as Connie was starting his freshman year of college -- but still.

He passes the blunt up to Jean in the passenger's seat, who had easily won the race you declared on the way to your car. "First hand on the hood gets the front seat," you announced, and the young men scrambled over each other like excited puppies to slap your poor Honda in victory.

Jean takes a normal, sane hit, pinching his bronze eyes closed to avoid the flying smoke. It almost feels mesmerizing watching these two through the haze. Invisible green hands relax your face into a look of contentment, massaging away any irritation Connie had sparked by interrupting your game. Behind you, your step-brother coughs into his fist dramatically, heaving out a big sigh once his lungs quit their spasming.

"You seriously saved the day," he says, letting his cheek rest against the side of your headrest. If you turned enough, your noses would touch. Amused, you take the blunt from Jean, quietly admiring how his long fingers hold the wrap so delicately.

"I'd say we owe you, but you're kinda evil, so I'll just say thank you," the brunette beside you adds. His voice has dipped low and gravely since you all started hotboxing, reaching a baritone that leaves your heart hammering.

"Evil? Wow," you reply flatly, "I feel the gratitude in waves."

Connie smacks Jean lightly on the cheek while you take your puff. "What he means is, your genius is only surpassed by the world's most prolific professors," he says in a much-too-serious tone, "like, y'know, Hannibal Lecter, or like, Dr. Evil."

Pulling up a leg to rest in your seat, you snort in laughter, thick white smoke billowing out from your nose.

"Thanks, Con."

"No problem, babe."

Jean guffaws before you can. "Did you just call her babe?"

Connie, golden eyes wide, throws himself back into the backseat. He waves his hand flippantly, as if he could bat away the subject. "What? No, shut up."

You and Jean whip yourselves around at the same time, shoulders pressed against one another. "You totally did." You tease, smirk wide on your face.

Connie melts into the dark fabric. A heavy warmth surges over his face. "I just, y'know, I'm usually a gentleman and I smoke girls up," he runs a hand through his short hair, "slip of the tongue."

Jean snorts, letting his gaze slide over to you in his peripheral. "And then you compare her to the girls you fuck. Interesting."

Your shared laughter embarrasses Connie more than it irks him, sending his hands flying up to scrub over his face. In a show of mercy, you pass the blunt back to the poor boy, fending for his life all alone in the back of the car. Connie pinches the wrap and suddenly smirks toward his friend, charged and ready. "Jean, I could end your entire career right now."

Curious, you lean back some and look at Jean next. He pauses, switching a suspicious gaze between you both.

"I dunno what you're talking about."

"Oh, bullshit! How many times have I caught you staring at her ass?"

Shock formed your mouth into a tiny 'o' first but unbridled amusement twists it into a devilish grin. "Is that so?" You nudge a finger harshly into Jean's bicep. The young man swats your hand away and shoots his friend a glare. Connie's cackling jumps around the cars walls, spurring your own laughter to bubble out and making Jean roll his eyes.

Wiping faux tears, you watch Jean snatch the blunt from Connie and take a pouty puff, his jaw tense. "Not sure how to take in this information, honestly. Who knew both of you weirdos wanted to fuck me?" You twist back around to lean properly against your seat. A victorious glow radiates from your warmed face, neck, chest -- even if it was all jokes, the idea sits heavy in your mind and lower belly.

"I think you're the weirdo for being so psyched about it." Connie says from behind, his usually chirpy voice dragging low, like he'd just woken up from a long nap. A few quick puffs burn the blunt to your fingertips and you pinch it out with freshly licked fingers.

"I don't hear either of you denying it." You chime, dropping the roach into your cup holder to deal with later. Jean, still awkwardly turned in his seat, looks back at Connie, and there's a moment of quiet that you get lost in, brain and body fuzzy from your high.

Inside the car, a sheen of smoke blankets over you three and beads sweat over your skin. The warmth feels more comforting than suffocating. Swirls of white and gray are barely illuminated by the dim blue nightlight inside the garage. It feels dreamy, almost ethereal in a strange way.

Jean pulls you back into the moment when he runs a large hand through his hair. He's relaxed into the seat, long legs cocked out enough that his knee threatens to knock into your hand on the center console. Connie leans forward, resting a hot hand over your shoulder. "It's hot as fuck in here, let's go inside."

"Alright, yeah. You guys go, I'm gonna park outside and air this baby out before heading in."

Connie squeezes your shoulder and all but rolls out of the backseat, stretching his legs and arms out like a sleepy kitten. Jean hesitates opening his own door beside you. He clears his throat. "Just so you know, I stare at your face too," his voice is quiet, like he doesn't want Connie to hear, and you quirk your brow at him curiously. He sputters for a second, "y'know, not just your ass. I mean, it's nice -- you have a nice ass. But like, that's not all that's nice. Your -- you --"

You cut him off with a giggle. "I'm glad you think my face is nice, Jean."

The low light was just enough to see the goofy grin grow over his face before he slid out, joining his friend at the door leading inside. Connie bumps into him playfully and the two stooges shuffle off, leaving you all alone in the smoky blue garage.

Heading in, you expect to spy the two raiding the fridge, or perhaps even locked away in Connie's room playing games. Instead, you find two men in your room, lazing around like they own the place. Connie sits in your computer chair, his slippered feet propped up onto a bare spot on your desk, while Jean sits at the foot of your bed, leaned back on both palms. Only Jean looks at you once you enter, his bronze gaze only slightly sleepy as it rolls over your form.

"Oh, hello," you quip, hand hovering over the doorknob. For some reason, it feels like you intruded on them, versus them plundering your room. Connie, in his stretched out position, nods too casually in your direction. A little bit of his stomach peeks out from under his shirt -- you can see the waistband of his boxers, stretching around the V shaped muscles that disappear under his sweats.

"Let's watch a movie." Connie reaches toward a few figurines you keep beside your monitor, itching to busy his hands with something or another. You look between the two, wondering if there's something you're missing -- but ultimately, you shrug, closing the door behind you.

Twenty minutes into a Marvel movie you've seen a thousand times, there's two hands on your thighs and not a single thought in your brain. Jean, on your right, squeezes gently every few moments, and the pressure feels so warm and comforting -- Connie, on the other side, swipes his thumb in a mesmerizing half moon, leaving tingles in its wake. Their skin is hot against your own.

The coyness surrounding you all is nearly suffocating. You want so badly to acknowledge the growing sense of want, of need in your center, but all you can do is stretch your legs out and lean back against the wall.

Connie lets his pinky fiddle with the hem of your shorts, between your legs. As small as the action is, it still draws a tiny gasp from you, something that doesn't go unnoticed by anybody. He glances over, a little smirk on his face. "Weirdo." he mumbles, but takes it as a good sign. His hand glides upward just the tiniest bit, spread wide and gripping at the soft flesh more eagerly. Jean follows suit, watching curiously as he trails his own hand upward, slipping a few fingers under your shorts and dangerously close to touching your panties.

Your legs react on their own. Knees bending, they butterfly out, allowing the men more access. There's no use in thinking any of it over; Jean has a hand on the side of your face, gently urging you over to look at him, and Connie messes with the crease where your thigh meets your pelvis before you can make any internal argument about it. Looking up at the brunette, you feel so vulnerable, a far cry from the cocky attitude you held in the car earlier. He smiles down at you, drinking you up, savoring the doe-eyes and the way your lips part when he leans in.

Lips slotted together, it feels effortless to kiss Jean, but it takes all your willpower not to gasp into his mouth when Connie retracts his hand, only to press directly over your clothed center. The heel of his palm digs into your clit through the thin layers of fabric, purposeful and direct, and he uses a finger to press between your folds. You end up losing the battle, but only partly, letting a little whimper loose against Jean's surprisingly soft lips. He slowly licks into your mouth and raises his hand to rest over your lower belly, dipping under your shirt to smooth over the warmed skin.

Your eyes are closed, body alight with so many exciting sensations you're not sure what to focus on. Regaining a moment of sense, you can feel yourself reaching for both of them, settling on their legs at your sides. It grounds you, anchors you, but it doesn't last long. Connie's chuckle sounds out beside you. "You're wet," he says, nudging your shorts aside to urge a finger against your underwear. "I can feel it through your panties."

Breaking away from Jean, the urge to pant and catch your breath is as tempting as it is embarrassing. You glance at Connie, looking at you like a hungry wolf, and slide your hands over both of their laps, somehow surprised to be met with strained fabric. "You're one to talk." You reply, gripping the noticeable bulges beneath your palms. Both of them utter a sort of groan, stretching themselves out to allow better access. Connie's dickprint could clearly be seen through his sweats, strapped to his thigh by a pair of boxer briefs, but Jean's dick laid more concealed beneath his dark jeans, the rigid fabric keeping you from getting a whole hand around him. You wonder for a moment how different their dicks looked -- how different they would feel, bare against your hand, your tongue, even stretching you out.

The clothes come off in a sort of frenzy, confidence blooming in your chest once the men were down to their underwear with their cocks begging to be freed. Suddenly, you lost the shy feeling of toeing around what you all wanted. You found your voice.

Straddling Jean's hips backwards, you face Connie, holding onto the brunette's strong thighs for balance. Jean teases his dick through your folds and gasps when you grind against him, brushing his head over your needy clit. Before you, at the foot of the bed, Connie leans back, legs spread so he can jerk off comfortably to the sight in front of him. Your eyes follow his movements -- working up the veiny shaft until dollops of pre ooze out from his flushed tip.

Jean's hands shift from groping and massaging your ass to gripping the supple meat of your hips, rocking you up and down as you slide your pussy over his cock. Arousal leaking, you're so wet he could slip right inside, given a good enough angle -- but he lets you move whichever way you want to, lets his eyes roll back with a groan.

"You wanna watch me fuck your best friend, Con?" You ask sweetly, voice tinted far too innocently for the hungry way you look down at him, splayed open on your mattress. Connie flicks his wrist, caught between watching your cunt work around Jean's dick and watching your face, such a sly smile crawling over your warmed cheeks. "Gonna watch me ride him stupid?"

Beneath you, Jean's hips twitch. His fingers dig into you with more urgency, a deep groan leaking from his chest. "Hold on, baby. Be a good boy for me." You coo, reaching down to cup his balls and press his cock flush against your wet lips. Shockwaves pulse through your body when you rub your clit against the silky smooth skin of his dickhead. Little moans spill out from your lips, urging both of the men on in their own motions; Jean bucks up into your hold, Connie grips his cock more fervently.

"You sound so fucking pretty like this," Jean utters from behind you, and Connie grunts, adding, "you look so pretty like this. Wanna see you all filled up."

Pleased, you lift your hips and align Jean's long dick with your entrance. It takes a moment for you to ease down all the way. A delightful burn shoots up your center, working to stretch around his meat and accommodate to his size, but you feel so full, so satisfied once he's buried inside you. His dick curves just the perfect way to hit the right spot deep inside your cunt.

"Oh, fuck," you mutter once you're pelvis to pelvis.

"Feels good?" Connie squeezes his tip, smearing more pre over himself. Eyes sliding shut, you nod eagerly and rock your hips, drinking in every gasp and moan that Jean offers so generously from beneath you. For a few moments you simply scoot and rock, massaging that spot and working up a tight coil in your belly. With the motions your body leans forward, providing Jean with the perfect view of your ass and Connie with the jiggle of your tits. Wet, lewd sounds slip into the space between you all, making the moment feel all too real.

"That's it, baby, take what you need," Jean smooths a hand up your curved spine. His heels dig into the mattress so he can press harder into your core.

Connie watches you start to bounce, a look of utter bliss washing over your face, and groans with every broken little moan you breathe out. He jerks into his fist in time with Jean's half hip thrusts. He can be patient, he can wait, he tells himself; no matter how he feels about Jean fucking you, the view and symphony you've selflessly provided him were more than enough to have every ounce of blood rush from his brain straight to his dick.

"Kiss, k-kiss me, Con," you mewl out, your breathing already growing heavy. The man jumps onto his knees and crawls forward, so eager to hold your jaw in one hand and give you exactly what you asked for. The kiss is sloppy, messy and wet, tongues sliding around each other without much direction, but it feels like exactly what you need, adding fuel to the flame in your core.

Connie slicks his hand up and down his shaft while he tongues you, eyes shut and abs squeezing tight. So many new experiences tonight, so little time to process them -- the thought of a threesome with Jean wasn't too out of left field, but the fact that you were smack in the middle of it was almost crazy enough to make him question if this was all a long, wet dream, one that would leave him sticky yet unsatisfied when he woke.

"You take me so fucking good," Jean grips your ass cheeks roughly, spreading them to take in the view of his cock sliding in and out of you with such ease. The desk lamp catches your arousal in a glimmer, leaking out and into the smearing of dark brunette hair around his pelvis. "Shit, so fucking good."

The praise makes you melt and stutter your bouncing, mewling into Connie's mouth and choosing to rock yourself back and forth to gain composure, but it's a fruitless effort. Pulling away from his mouth, an involuntary cry rips from your throat and that pressure inside mounts to an unbearable edge.

"F-Fuck, fuck fuck fuck--"

"Oh shit, are you cumming already?" Connie's eyes grow wide, looking down at you like a world wonder. He drops his hand from your face to grope at your tits, smoothing over the pert nipples and pinching them lightly to make you gasp.

Jean takes control. He holds onto you like you'd rocket off into space without him and hammers upward into your spasming cunt, jaw tensed as you milk him, your mouth dropped open in a silent cry. "God, fuck -- yeah, she is. C'mon baby, cum on my cock," he pleads more than commands, voice almost lost against the lewd slapping sounds coming from between you. The orgasm feels nearly shocking, crashing over you from head to toe and bathing your entire body in sparks and a deep, burning heat. Silken walls squeeze and shake, much like your hands, which grasp onto Connie's strong forearm to keep you from simply falling over in the peak of your pleasure.

The most you can offer is little squeaks as the wave dies down. You feel a little lightheaded and let out a shaky exhale, eyes fluttering open to meet those of your step-brother -- his gaze feels impossibly heavy as it flicks over your face. He licks his lips and offers a sly grin. "You're so fucking pretty." Connie says lowly. An almost ditzy smile flashes his way and you close the minimal space between your faces, catching his lips in another kiss.

Jean slows his movements to more purposeful, deep thrusts, and relaxes his grip, but rolls his head back into the pillow and utters a deep groan. "Where -- Where d'you want me? M'close," he breathes.

You break away from Connie, who whines a little, but watches you closely. Jelly-like legs work with you to unmount Jean and twist around so that you can take him into your mouth, propping your ass up into the air in front of Connie, almost like an offering. Jean watches you with half lidded eyes. His cock looks even bigger with your hand wrapped around it -- wetness and a little thick cream coat his bare, flushed skin, which you lick up in long strokes of the tongue. He pulses under your touch, eagerly lifting his hips to meet your lips as you kiss over his sensitive skin.

The brunette curses under his breath when you meet the heated eye-contact, smiling coyly before sliding his meat between your lips, suckling him and flicking your hot tongue over his frenulum.

Connie, behind you, eyes his friend's undoing, watches as Jean grips the pastel sheets beneath him with strong hands. Your ass dangles so teasingly in front of him, darkened shapes in the form of fingerprints ghost around your plump skin from where Jean held you just moments before.

He never thought himself to be possessive, but watching you impale yourself to the point of cumming over Jean's cock and licking up the delicious mess you made without so much as touching his own needy prick sparked something in Connie, a strange, primal sort of urge that drives his hips forward on their own. His hands grip at your hips and draw a surprised hum from your busy mouth, but the way you wiggle your ass in reply is enough to bring a grin back to his face. Your thighs are still slicked with your own cum and arousal, your hole flutters around nothing as he spreads your cheeks and peers at the mess you made.

Connie marvels at the way your supple skin feels cupped in his hands, so soft and smooth under his touch. He nudges his leaking tip against your center, rubbing up and down through your lips and gathering up wetness to spread over himself. "This okay, baby?" he asks smoothly, leaning over you to speak closer to your ear. With a mouth full, you nod and press back against him, gasping when the motion pushes just a little of his fat tip into you.

Jean locks eyes with Connie for a moment. The novelty of the situation hasn't worn off yet -- they share a few seconds of raised brows and near drunken grins before Connie presses into you with a firm and concise thrust. Vibrations from your rather deep and needy moan flutter around Jean's cock and immediately push him right up to the edge, rolling his eyes back as his stomach muscles grow taut. Cockhead pressed against the back of your throat, Jean gasps out the neediest sound he's made all night, "fuck, 'm cumming, 'm-- aah," his legs shake as he releases his load straight down your throat. You moan around him, sucking and flicking your tongue over the underside of his pulsing dick, resisting the urge to gag and gathering pinprick tears across your waterline.

Connie waits, already filling you to the brim, rubbing his hands over your hips soothingly. The room feels hotter and thicker than ever before -- Jean pants at the head of the bed, lids heavy as he gazes down and watches you lick up wayward spit strands from his throbbing dick. "Holy shit," the brunette breathes. "Holy shit. Thank you."

A little giggle spills out from your swollen, plump lips, and you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. "You don't need to tha-- ah, ah, fuck!"

Connie snaps his hips to and fro, urging you forward and back with the motions. He slides so easily in and out of your cunt. Straight pornographic sounds punctuate the stuffy room and he throws his head back with a long, purposeful groan, settling his thumbs into the little indents above your ass like perfect riding handles. His cockhead pushes and presses inside you. There's some muddled emotion behind these thrusts, so strong and sharp in contrast with the rather bubbly persona you knew Connie to hold.

Jean sits up onto his elbows, watching your tits sway and jump with his friends motions. "Bring her over here, Connie," he jerks his head at an angle and beckons you up the bed. Connie, after a few more thrusts, obliges, though his brow is furrowed in a rare look of concentration as you two shuffle up, still locked together in a slick hold.

You find yourself between them both yet again, your mouth uncoordinated in all your post-orgasm-slash-pre-orgasm haze. Jean doesn't seem to mind -- he lazily kisses over your cheeks, your jaw, licking trails up the column of your throat as you hover over him with shaky arms. Connie ruts into you at a pace that surprises you, drawing louder and louder moans with every slap his balls deliver to your throbbing pussy. "Y'love it, don't you?" He groans, "you love taking your step-brother's cock, don't you, pretty girl?"

With a hot mouth sucking little bruises over your neck, you utter a little cry, eyes pinching shut as your cunt flutters around Connie's dick.

"Yes, yes yes yes," you manage, "fuck me, give me more, fuck-- Connie--"

"You close already? Hold on for me, baby, wait for me."

At the command, you find yourself clenching your thighs together, whimpering when Jean absolutely pushes you in the other direction by tweaking and pinching your nipples between his fingers. The brunette grins against your flushed skin. He flicks the sensitive nubs playfully, biting down on your shoulder and sucking hard enough that there'd surely be a big blooming bruise the next morning. Desperate whines greet both mens ears as your cunt drools recklessly between your legs.

"Please, please Con, need'ta cum," you beg. "Please let me cum--"

Groaning, Connie watches the ripple of plump flesh that accompanies every thrust. His mouth drops open before he can think through what he says next: "Gonna let me cum inside?"

Your hole clenches around him on its own accord. "C-Cum inside?"

"Mhm," he rolls with it, too lost in his building orgasm to care anymore, "gonna let me fill you up baby?"

Of course, it's all talk straight from a thoughtless brain -- he'd finish wherever you wanted him to. But if he didn't at least try, he'd be kicking himself for the foreseeable future.

Jean eyes his friend over your shoulder, but kisses a trail up to the shell of your ear, where he breathes hot waves over you. "Good girls leave no mess," he coaxes, making you shiver.

The coil in your belly is strung impossibly tight. Right at the edge, ready to plummet for the second time that night, you whimper and grasp for Jean, digging your nails into his arms. You feel a release, a dam breaking deep in your core, sending a dizzying wave washing over you yet again.

"Cum in me," it almost comes out as a whisper, "please c-cum in me, Connie."

And it's music to Connie's ears, sending goosebumps over his sweat-slicked body. He needs no more than a few more pumps before your swollen, twitching walls milk the cum out of his cock, squeezing him so tight he utters a moan one might label as pathetic -- but he couldn't care less, tilting his head back and burying himself as deep as he could to shoot his load against your abused cervix. Jean peppers light kisses over your face, to the corner of your mouth, hung wide in another fit of pleasure.

The delicate smoothing of Connie's hands over your lower back, the soft hum from Jean beneath you, it all lulls you into a state of exhaustion you weren't sure you were capable of staying awake for.

After a moment, Connie pulls out, eyeing the cum mixture that threatens to drip out of your twitching hole with wonder. "Holy shit," he says quietly, voice nearly cracking.

Holy shit. There's no train of thought to be found for the rest of the night, even as all three of you re-dress and bid Jean goodnight an hour later -- he gives you a kiss, feather light and unsure as it lays at the corner of your mouth, but you don't mind in the slightest -- and, as you pad to up to your room once again, a creaking door startles you straight out of your still-tingly skin.

How in the fuck had you forgotten, or, perhaps your horny brain simply ignored, that your parents were sleeping just down the hall?

The tired, bleary face you know to belong to Connie's mom searches for you in the darkness. "Everything okay?" she asks, voice rocky, as if she'd just woken up. The hammering in your chest rings in your ears as you nod. "Was that Connie? And Jean?" she continues, looking you up and down for a moment.

Panic washes over you. Sure, you're a grown woman, you're certain both parental figures know you have a sex life -- but the pure taboo of the night doesn't escape you.

So, you sputter out the only excuse you can scrounge up in the moment. A half-truth, to save your conscience, and maybe even save Connie's grounded ass in the process.

"Jean came over, but not for Connie. He's been in his room." You say quietly, nervous fingers fiddling with the hem of your shorts -- too reminiscent of how your step-brother played with them earlier in the night.

A moment of silence passes between you two, before your step-mother hums to break it. "He's nice, that Jean boy. Sometimes I think Connie's a bit of a bad influence." And with that, she wishes you goodnight, and closes her door once again.

Retreating to the relative safety of your room, you shove yourself under the covers and heave a heavy sigh. There's no time to think over the potential consequences of your actions before there's a figure clicking the door shut behind them. Connie traverses the space confidently, as if it's his own room he's crossing, and doesn't even ask before crawling into bed next to you.

There's no fight in you, even if you had the energy for it. Jumbled, disorganized thoughts drift in and out of your mind as he snuggles into your side, his bare chest hot but comforting.

Connie, a bad influence?

He presses a lazy kiss into your hair.

Maybe, but you're no better.

#attack on titan #aot #aot x reader #connie x reader #jean x reader #connie springer #jean kirstein #dark content #stepcest #step-cest

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punkeropercyjackson · 2 months

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"It's cringe to make older sibling characters also parental figures to their younger ones,they're not like that irl!"Tell me you're not an eldest sibling without telling me you're not an eldest sibling

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getodrools · 3 months

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𐙚 DIFFERENT POLES: TOJI FUSHIGURO!

IN WHICH, step dad! toji was snooping around and found your personal items! and toji takes the chance to blackmail you for being a stripper – with shameful lap dances in return for keeping your little secret…

I 𝓲. I MDNI ୨୧ f! stripper! reader. dub con (coercion). step cest. blackmail mention. age gap (reader: early 20s, toji: late 40s). manipulation. lap dance turned to riding. slight praising + degrading. humiliation. dacryphilia. size difference. overstimulation. cervix/womb fucking. non con creampie. orgasm denial. | WC –> 1.1k+ est ! !

NOTE. this is a repost from my old blog !! :p

“please… don't tell mom.”

was the first thing you could muster up through fat tears. the embarrassment was flamming at a rise in the pit of your tummy when your step-father found your secret stash — not asking why he was even going through your panty drawer in the first place, too caught up on the fact he was holding your intimate stripping items with his bare hands.

you remember how he heavily sighed too, the deep shame in his voice was guttural, “i’m so disappointed in you… but i won't,” you also remember thinking you were actually off the hook; hiccuping through slowing tears ‘till leafy eyes hooded into deep sets, “only if you show me what you do.” and even when toji sparked up a slimy smirk, you remember how he stuffed his back pocket with your panties as anew tears began.

…

“fuck, they must really love you.” his words only add to the stinging humiliation – just how the cracking swats laying firm against the globes of your ass ache. and you could only claw at the broad shoulders ahead of you as a safe haven.

“don't get all shy. show me that slutty face-- show me those pretty ‘fuck me eyes’ of yours.” toji was cruel, battering your ass into his vice; squeezing and groping the tender skin ‘till the jiggly flesh molded out from between his fingers, forcing your face to tighten and eyes to peel back.

“toji!—”

“what? scared i’ll destroy your money maker?” you never knew how slimy your stepfather could get, watching how that silvery scar rises with a filthy smirk.

“fuck me. i’m too hard just to get fucking rubbed on.” your saliva thickens in your throat, feeling a twist in your stomach at his harsh and crude, sudden words.

the fleeting idea of fucking a man you call ‘father’ was wrenching, but feeling the thick print throbbing beneath you and the scare of your mother finding out hanging above your head, you slid your panties over the fat of your folds.

“good girl. bet they pay you lots for this-- how many gross men paid my pretty daughter for her pussy, huh?” toji gruffs out with no shame while adjusting his pants ‘till the fat pole of his meat spurred out.

you try hard to ignore the vulgar, spitting comments he spews out with, but watching how the older man worked his length with a sharp twist and panted at your body hovering over his to saddle against, you couldn't help but feel the moistened walls of your cunt flutter in shame.

“well, that don't matter now. i got a family discount.”

where was the shame anyways?

the oozing pre-drooling from the fat tip of his cock reminded you there wasn't any as you sucked in a deep breath to behest his throbbing length.

lined sweat crossing your forehead glistens as you settle your folds against the crown of his cock; dropping yourself to sheath around his more than nth-inch bitch-breaker into your pussy, feeling your walls stretch in vigor – an almost pain crowded but itched a deep sense of pleasure.

toji was thick, and he knows it too, watching how breathless you got stuffing yourself like a rag doll.

yet, he couldn't care, still holding that scare above your head and laid further back, soaking in the snug warmth your cunt blankets around him with. he lets out a breathy groan and cranes his head back while you suck in your bottom lip to chew on at the invasive fill.

you ignore how your stepfather never lets go of you barring hips, almost forcing them to roll tenderly against his with fervor. impatient he was, he squeezes at soft flesh to lean you – a position to let his cock piston up into your spongy walls with battering shock.

you gasp.

eyes peeling back wide at the barreling fill of his cock punching deep into your core mercilessly.

toji’s fist-sized balls bump against your ass with muffled claps at each thrust and you could only lean into his chest as a safe haven; clinging to his broad shoulders as trembling legs buckle around his, letting the older man fasten the sweaty work into his own hands. his rhythm was found quickly – a pace that was unrelenting and sharp; an immediate start-up of frantic fucking.

toji had the feeling of stuffing you balls deep pass through him like a sixth sense — as if he knew prodding at your cervix would make you drool, and he kept at it.

keeping you close with his cock powering through you and adding a strong edge to every buckle and jab into your sweet tightness, he hits at your cervix with the strength of one. the fleshy taut barrier concaves around his cockhead each time, forcing your eyes to bubble up in tears; tears of rather intense pleasure comprising with the mix of delicious pain. and the fast pressure applied to your sensitive perk forces your insides to respond by roiling around his cock, but crocodile tears wasn’t enough to slow toji – not at all, only making the man closer to cumming.

but feeling tight walls spasm around his working cock, he froths knowing that sensation of a women – the longing feel of a high about to spatter a filthy mess against him, and he slows his hips, rocking them ever so slightly ‘till you catch the sense of reality back.

you almost whimper at the, almost, complete stop.

“your pussy was squeezing me, ‘bout to cum, huh?” clenching your eyes at the dirty truth, you shamelessly nod in hopes he'd run the engines again.

“no cumming for you. bad girls don't get good things, so finish me off.” toji keeps his vice around you and watches dearly how your eyes drop from hoods to doey sets.

“get to it. your mother comes home in ten minutes or so.” your senses click back from his gruff words, and you hadn’t realized how you were about to cum all over your stepfather's cock in minutes.

the growing sense of being impatient was heading for you, and the sense of being caught was looming right above your head – a guilt growing to fuck yourself like a toy in excuse…

choking up a sob, you keep the throbbing cock poking deep into your cunt, practically feeling the capped-tip kiss at your womb as you sat firmly into his thick lap. your father finally frees his bruising grip and lays his hands to the side nonchalantly, now letting you take charge — in a sense.

your hips roll against his in pure ardor, driving the breath from your own lungs in a single rush for a rhythm as gravity went to work; breast bouncing and panted moans falling. fucking the sopping heat of your cunt with broad strokes and harsh jabs that make your pussy writhe, you can even feel the dark pricks of hairs tickling at your clit; softly rubbing at the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“better at riding dick than your mom.” he adds to the filth with no warning. purely enjoying ridden flesh sinking into embarrassment as sopping folds go obscenely wide in acceptance of his cock.

with full-bodied strokes — putting your all into it; every line and inch of flesh tensing hard as you rail yourself out. almost making a mess above him as toji felt his balls swell and cock fill out from it's aching knot; pleasure rising, the heat in each of your loins building to unthinkable heights.

toji gave no warning, again.

face tightening as toji moaned wordlessly as the thick slab of heavy meat burbs out spurts of liquid warmth into the deep core of your womb. you feverishly moan out in disgust, feeling the ropes of rich baby-batter paint into your teaming depths, slathering against the entrance of your womb and globbing out as you jump up and crawl away in notion fear.

“did you just cum in me?!” you groan at the side as toji’s dick still spurt out dribbles of white goo, “you're sick! i’m your daughter!” with the whiplash of your head, you only lock gazes with lazy green eyes that look at you no different.

you swallow up your words.

“anyways. if you're so worried, then you better hurry up n’ get your ass washed. your mom just pulled into the driveway.” toji looks over from your bedroom window, seeing a black car rolling in and parking…

<– BACK: PINNED ౨ৎ NEXT: MORE TOJI –>

#🌐 𝐿𝒜𝒱𝐼𝐼 𝒲𝑅𝐼𝒯𝐸𝒮!#ᝰ toji fushiguro!#toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen #tw dub con #tw coercion #tw dacryphilia #tw age gap #tw size difference #tw step cest #toji smut

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greenday-bingus · 6 months

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Me when my favorite author slowly starts becoming weird

Please tell me I'm not the only one that think it's weird that people are writing step-cest and non con 😭

PLEASE STOP THIS, STOP ROMANTICIZING IT. ITS NOT COOL NOR EPIC. I HATE IT HERE YALL ARE DISGUSTING

#simon x reader #König x reader #konig x reader #cod #mw3 #head canons #call of duty #stop with the step-cest #im literally younger AND I KNOW BETTER #This isn't like you 😢#cod x reader #john price x reader #horangi x reader

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iwaasfairy · 8 months

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I'm sorry if this sounds weird but what are some good father fucker fics on your blog

SkNDHDJJD no it’s not weird !! On my haikyuu masterlist mainly I have a lot

bigger, better and dawning with daddy oikawa

honest and you are for iwa ♡ also thunder from his bday masterlist

true green with tsumu

every meian fic of mine is extremely dad coded but main ones are make it and petulant

oh and also the aran one I forget what it’s called

and this isn’t dad, but if you like uncle fucking too, flighty with gojo and nightshade with mattsun

#I will say tho; I was too scared to officially label it #pure daughter fucking #bc this was at a time where there was a lot of antis #so it says step cest but you can totally read it as pure dad #honey mail #tw.incest #yEeeyeyeye I know my niche listen #I got you bbyyyyyy

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nyctophiliq · 1 year

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love, i am a disgusting human...but here's my request: stepsis samira fucking you because she's jealous of your new gf and proves she can do it better. 😳😳💓

love you gf, feel absolutely free to ignore it if it makes you uncomfy 😽

✮ —YOU RIGHT, SAMMY ; samira

minors dni. afab! reader, nsfw ! — lowercase writing intended, dub-con, manipulation, dry humping, thigh riding, fingering, finger riding, clothed sex, cheating (?), jealous samira

wc. 1,8k

moss’ notes; are you kidding estella? step-cest is the best dead dove do not eat content ever !!! this got more of a 'love-making' thing rather than 'fucking' :/ love you too gf, hope you enjoy 💗😳

“in a minute!” you answered after a few knocks disturbed the silence in your room. can’t a girl take underwear pictures for her girlfriend in peace? you had no privacy in this house, everyone always wanted you to do something and that was fine, until like seven pm, after that you wanted to have the same respected free time as everyone else.

you threw your pajama back on, tossed your phone on the bed, and hurried to the tall white door of your room. it was a mess on your floor after you flipped the whole place up on its head, trying to find the lingerie set that you bought for just the moment like this, to send your girlfriend.

“samira?” she stood at your door, anger and sadness riddling her face. “what happened, are you okay?” despite hating your stepmother you loved her daughter, your step-sister, samira. she was caring, she got you to stuff you only dreamed of getting because of how strict your father was. she took you out to eat whatever you wanted, drove you to school without having to ask, and always left some extra cash in your pocket if you wanted to buy something nice for yourself. samira wasn’t like all those step-sisters in the movies, she wasn’t mean or a bully, she cared for you deeply, and she wanted to keep you safe no matter if it got her in trouble.

“why did you replace me, like all the others? you don’t love me anymore, y/n?”

samira had her fair share of rejections and broken relationships even with how big her heart really was. you sat next to her as she talked about how bad it was, letting her hold you after spilling her guts out, letting her kiss your cheek because you just felt sorry for your older sister- the one that had so much love to give, so much love she gives to you. but when that happens other things happen too… you always convinced yourself it was alright for that to happen, it only happened a couple of times that she pulled you onto her lap, and kissed you sweetly on the lips before pushing you on your back and kissing you some more.

“sami- what are you, don’t…” you gasp, eyes still open in surprise at the sudden feeling of your step-sister’s lips against yours and she feels the way your fingers stiffen in her oversized shirt, unmoving while she kisses you, moving her mouth against yours all while you gawk and freeze in front of her.

but she’s heartbroken, right? she was rejected yet again and her step-sister wouldn’t hurt her feelings too, would you? so you let her even if there is a feeling in your stomach that’s telling you this is wrong, that you have a girlfriend and you are cheating her on, with your step-sister! but samira was always so sweet to you and you don’t want to upset her by being like all the rest.

“aren’t you gonna kiss me back, you love me, don’cha?” samira asks in earnest when she pulls away to frown at you, her voice slurred a bit as her hand grabs at the hem of your shirt, pulling on it like a needy child. “i d-do, i do…” you find the strength to respond, and it truly warms you from the inside out when she smiles at you softly and gives you another peck on the lips before taking your hand, dragging you towards the bed while kicking your door shut with her leg.

samira sat down on the bed, her hands now resting on your waist, staring up at you before they slip under the shirt to caress your stomach and hips. her fingers play with the cloth before pushing it slightly upwards, revealing the underside of your lacy bra. her fingers ball into a fist, creasing your shirt with it before both of her hands caught your pajama top and pulled it off of you, exposing the rest of your lewd underwear.

“you are wearing this for her, don’t you? were you lying to me when you said you love me?“ her anger takes the better of her, forcefully grabbing you by your bra straps and pulling you onto her lap. your knees rest on either side of her thighs, hands holding you up by her shoulder as you shake your head. “i do love you, sammy, i-i promise- it’s for you…”

“i’m sorry for hurting you,” she says, her eyes fixed on your chest before her lips connect with the reddened skin, moving the strap aside to give her better access, sliding it down your arm and her hand reaching behind your back to undo the clasp of your bra.

“we should stop... sammy, i have a g-girlfriend.” your voice is small and you feel just as small. how can you say that to her? you wanna please her because there is no way you want to hurt her feelings when she’s already so fragile.

“but i love you and you love me… this is what you do when you love someone, y/n.” she grunts, chest heaving against yours as she breathes heavily against your skin and it’s almost too quick the way you’re replying, feeling as your bra loosens around your chest and then samira helps you out of it, hastily tossing it to the side.

“yeah, you are right, i-i’m sorry sammy…” samira sighs as she watches your breasts hang free on your body. she wants to take them into her mouth, lick your nipples until they perk up, tug on them so they become nice and puffy, pinch them to hear you say her name so prettily.

taking shaky breaths as she tries to pull herself together. something dangerous turns inside of her when she looks up at your teary eyes and nods softly, biting nervously at the inside of your cheek. “it’s okay, i would never be angry at you, baby.” she slurs, stroking the top of your head, pushing the scattered strands of hair out of your face with an eager smile on her face. she leans in, slurring some kind of praise before kissing you again, prying your lips open with her own as she licks eagerly into your mouth, drinking up your moans while your fingers twist and pull in her hair, her clothed thigh rubbing against your panties.

“it’s alright, sammy’s gonna make ya feel good, princess. so just… listen to your big sister, hm?” she asks, voice whispering directly into your ear causing a shiver to run down your spine. it was less of a question and more of a command, one you melted into, nodding briefly as you bit your lip, too nervous to talk. your reaction amused samira and she smiled sweetly as she pressed a kiss against your collarbone eliciting a pleased exhale from you.

“does it feel good, hm?” samira had thought about this before, thought about her lips against your skin, marking you as hers, hearing you say how much you liked it. she wanted to hear you say that you liked her delicate fingers running over your skin, the way you make yourself wet as she touches you. “y-yes!”

“does it feel better than her, your girlfriend, right? she knows nothing about how to touch you, i do… your big sister sammy does.” she says as she rubs gentle circles into the plush of your thigh, slightly pinching it whenever inchings closer to your aching core. your mind is almost too foggy with lust to respond, all you can think about is her, feeling more, more of her. “she k-knows nothing… you do s-sammy.” you choke on your words, head falling on her shoulder when her fingers touch your clothed entrance, poking the delicate fabric of your panties, toying with it for a second before pushing it aside.

samira grins at your answer, her chest blooming with pride, her fingers slowly pushing inside of you and she chuckles when you let a strained moan out. poor you must have been waiting for this for a while, you wouldn’t touch yourself in the dead of night, right? your parents always bother you so late and you can never satisfy yourself, that’s why you tried to find a girlfriend because you were too scared to ask for sammy’s help. “you feel amazing sissy, nice and warm… squishy.”

“s’good sammy… feels s’good.” you moan mindlessly as she starts to pump her fingers inside. you can hear the faintest slick from your soaked cunt and you almost want to hide it, burying your face deeper into the crook of her neck. her two slim fingers slide smoothly in and out of you, your soft moans buzzing on her skin as she starts picking her pace up.

her eyes roll back as she feels something tickling the thin skin of her collarbones, your saliva trickling down until it hides in her shirt. she curls her finger up and your hips lift to meet the feeling, drive it deeper, pleasure flourishing through your body in waves. her other hand comes up to palm one of your breasts, squeezing them until the fat oozes out between her fingers, moving to flick your nipple with her thumb when you bite into her skin.

“yeah? you wanna cum on my fingers pretty?” samira asks as she presses hot kisses against your cool, sweat-slicked neck.

you nod dumbly, words falling out of your mouth incoherently as you near your high. the heel of her palm presses against your clit, shooting electricity through your nerves, curling your toes, forcing your hips to roll faster, and all you can really focus on is how good it feels when she kisses your neck, leaving the lingering feeling of her lips behind. before you know it you are coming undone, cunt squeezing down on her fingers as you cream on them. you reach for the arm that is inside your panties, nails digging into her flesh as you ride out your high.

“sissy, what do we say when somebody makes us cum?” she hummed while pulling out of you, kindly petting your entrance with her soaked fingers. you take a few short breaths, each of them cutting off as you begin to sob, your arms sliding around samira’s shoulder to pull her closer, digging into her muscles as the last of your orgasm twitches through your body.

“tha-thank you… thank you sammy.” you bawl as you try to pull her body closer to yours, trying to claim the warmth that she is emitting. it was so cold in the room now, without her fingers warming your insides… samira really did know best.

#📼 › moss tapes #league of legends x reader #league of legends x reader smut #samira x reader #samira x reader smut #lol samira x reader #lol samira x reader smut #samira smut #league of legends samira x reader #league of legends samira x reader smut #league of legends smut #tw step cest #tw stepcest

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