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#yk. the black and white outfit
nygleskas · 2 months
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the gang's all here !!!
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poptartmochi · 24 days
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ningvory · 2 months
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Yandere!mean!Winter fucking you good in a motel, making you wear outfits which would barely cover anything of yours, dry hump her, suck her off, let her cum in you whatever she wanted as you took it like her good little bunny. Saying “thank you thank you thank you” everytime she thrusted in you, her dick going so deep in yours that you could feel a bulge forming, she would record all this as she herself is a cam!girl and you were the viewers favourite guest because of how pretty, delicate and obedient you are. The viewers loved it when you would go on all fours as winter entered inside you with no prep making you jerk forward as your boob jiggled, while she is thirsting in you her fingers are in your cunt fingering you making you cry tears of pain and pleasure.
♡ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ CRAZY OVER YOU ┊ kim minjeong
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parings: gp!yandere!camgirl!winter x bimboish??f!reader
warnings: voyerism, dry humping, oral (w receiving), pet names, dumbification, tummy bulge, doggy, fingering, creampie, darcyphilia, choking, degrading, overstimulation, she’s a big meanie :((, not proofread
a/n: title is DEFINITELY not from the blackpink song 😉 didn’t mean for this to be so long but enjoy this fic as i’m currently writing the cop minjeong fic<33
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your camgirl girlfriend, winter is just super possessive over you! you guys are college students so money was of course, a struggle. having to balance work and college was hard, so your girlfriend decided to become a camgirl. and it seemed to work after her first video dropped, about a year before you two began dating. she proceeded to bring you onto her stream once and her viewers loved you! the way you sound when winter edges and overstimulates you and the fact that you’re so pretty and obedient for her is so cute to them!
but who would’ve thought that your girlfriend is so…crazy over you? at first, it was lighthearted things like asking where you’ve been and who you were with, but then they stared to get concerning. she started to demand for your location and would go as far as to put a tracker on your phone, she would start to drop you off to whatever location you needed to go to and would ALWAYS tag along with you, giving you no time without her damn near breathing down your neck.
but you’ve found a way around her, or so you thought. your besties really wanted to hang out and eat at a restaurant so you just had to tag along! you barely get to see them due to your girlfriend forcing you to turn down all their plans. you wore a pretty pink dress, nothing too absurd, pairing it with clear heels with a little bit of makeup. you had to turn your phone completely off, bringing out your old phone to carry with you.
at first it was such a good night! taking photos and having a good time with your friends, ning, rina, and aeri. talking about random shit and laughing, doing what friends do yk? that was up until you saw your girlfriend from afar, causing your heart to sink.
“hey y/n, you okay? you look like you’ve gotten sick!” rina asked you, noticing how the look of fear painted your face.
“yea..i’m great! let me go to the restroom, if i don’t come back i probably went home.” you told her and the rest of the girls, the bill was already paid so you guys were free to leave.
you began to walk over to your girlfriend, heartbeat ringing in your ears when she grabbed your hand to pull you to the restroom. she immediately pinned you to the door with her hand on your throat, making you gasp out as tears began to swell up in your eyes as apologies began to spill out of your mouth.
“my stupid pretty girl, thought you got away, huh? didn’t think that i put a tracker on your old phone too?” she mocked you with a grin.
she was wearing black shorts with a basic white top, paired with a long leather coat on. it must’ve been raining because her hair appeared to look wet and puffy.
“aww, pretty don’t cry..” she said, rubbing your tears off your face.
she finally removed her hand off your neck, making you gasp out, taking in all the air you can before she dragged you out the restroom and to the car, shoving you in the passenger seat. you didn’t know where exactly and you wouldn't dare to ask. the car ride was silent, aside from the the rain dripping onto the car and the faint sound of music playing along with her hand gripping your thigh.
you must've fallen asleep when you arrived because you heard the car stop and the door slamming. your door opening with winter's hand out for you to take with her free hand. she must've planned this out because she had a big duffel bag on her shoulder. you took her hand and she closed the door, locking it and wrapping her arm around your waist.
-
you weren't expecting her to start a stream here, but here you are. all dolled up in a pretty pink outfit that hardly covered you up, matching bunny and butterfly clips in your hair.
the stream began rolling, you two at the edge of the bed. winter was wearing a black lacey bra with matching boxers, her boner was shown to her viewers.
"hey guys~ our favorite guest is back! my pretty baby, isn't she so cute? she's been a bad bunny for me so she deserves be ruined and treated like a slut." winter spoke out, causing you to whine out. she's always fucked you so good so you really couldn't care!!
she'd place you on her lap and force you hump her clothed cock. bare cunny was barely getting any pleasure making you whine out because you wanted to cum badly but you wanted to be a good girl for her! :((
she chuckled, watching you on her lap, she was basically touring herself. you look so pretty she wanted to take her boxers off and thrust into you brutally. she watched as the viewers left their dirty comments, she doesn't even know why she lets these nasty pervs see your pretty body and hear your cute sounds.
she would forced you down on your knees, and push your head all the way to her pelvis, making you gag on her thick cock as she was groaning at the feeling of her cock in your mouth.
she began to use your head to her pleasure, holding your head in place so she can thrust into your mouth. you were looking up at her pretty face twisted in pleasure, your spit dripping down the the valley of your plush tits and your eyes were filled with baby tears.
"ah! shit- baby, cumming!" she moaned out, thrusting into your mouth quicker until you felt her warm seed fill your mouth as you swallowed it all up for her.
she pulled you up from the floor and threw you onto the bed on your tummy, not even giving you a chance to flip over. she forced into doggy before she and pushed into your tight cunt, making you cry out because she gave you no prep! :((
“t-thank you! thank you!” you stuttered out, she was pounding into you so forcefully it made you jerk forward and the bed squeak.
the viewers went wild at the sight. comments after comments of them saying how adorable you were, still thanking your girlfriend even though she’s abusing your poor cunny with your ass smacking against her pelvis.
winter began to use her fingers as well, whenever she thrusted out she would push her fingers in. giving you no room to breath making you squeal and cum all over the sheets and her pelvis!
she finally turned you around, your face was stained with tears while you eyes were shut tight from the overwhelming pleasure. her eyes began to drift from your face to where you connected but stopped when she saw a tummy bulge, making her groan out.
“you feel me, baby? am i fucking you good?” she asked you, pressing down on the bugle, making you moan out as you nodded your head.
“words, pretty.” she demanded, pulling her finger out to rub your little bundle of nerves, watching how you tried to run away from her torture.
“y-yes! yes! you feel s-so ngh~ good!” you mustered out looking into her eyes, watching how she smirked.
you came once again with winter behind you, cumming inside you, marking you up with her warm seed, reminding her horny viewers that only she can fucked you stupid and cum inside you <33
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Hi! I’d like to request hcs for Vox (HH) with a fem sugar baby s/o ^^ (sfw and nsfw pls!)
A/n: Ugh, I love you sm 🫶 I feel like everybody needs a man like Vox in our lives yk
Warnings: Sugar Daddy- Sugar Baby relationship! Brief mentions of Alastor because I live for that man, mentions of jealousy, smut at the end, headcannon - story format, vox is needy per usual, LMK if I missed anything! NSFW Under the cut!!
Navigation!! // Masterlist!!
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Vox is probably one of the best sugar daddies out there
like he will drop PAYCHECKS on you for no actual reason
he loves spoiling you, like he genuinely finds so much happiness in spending money on you
I feel like he died before he could have a real relationship with someone, so even something like this is good for him
he’s definitely the first one to catch feelings, because of that fact he’s never been with anyone seriously
he’s had fuck buddies and one night stands but never something real, even if what you two have is more of a bank transaction
He really does care for you, round the clock security, nice apartment, lavish clothes and accessories
he really spares no expense, whatever his baby wants, whatever baby gets
however, he doesn’t pay for you to have sex with him
he truly doesn’t feel right doing it, at that point he might as well hire an escort
he does take you on lovely dates though, so much so you feel like your actually dating
he’ll send you pretty flowers with little notes, telling you what outfit to wear for your dinner that night
NSFW BELOW
back onto that telling you what to wear that night, he definitely buys you pretty clothes to wear just so he can take them off
he loves buying you dresses to show off your ass, more specifically anything that covers just enough, may the angels bless you that you don’t need to bend over
his favorite thing about you is your tits personality
yes i headcannon vox is a boob guy so what get over it
truthfully though, he loves everything, so there’s not much to worry about there
he doesn’t care what you wear, he can fight and will if anyone even THINKS about trying to take you home & if he sees you giving anyone else the time of day it’s over
“I saw you, giving those stupid fuck me eyes to that radio bastard. Think I didn’t notice?”
He asks, though it’s not like you can really speak. He’s been upset the entire car ride home. You don’t answer, too annoyed to say anything. “We’re just friends.” Is all you reply with, and he scoffs.
“Just friends? Just friends don’t eye fuck each other y/n.”
He says almost as if it proves a point. “Yeah well, you know our kind of relationship. I’m not exactly tied down to you.” You reply nonchalantly. It bothers him how much this hurts his feelings, because he knows your right. Truthfully, he couldn’t be more wrong. You weren’t his to get jealous over. You weren’t his to love that way. You weren’t his emotionally.
But financially you were. That was enough for him before, but was it now?
“You’re right.”
He says, pulling into the driveway of his house, which is large in itself.
“Come inside.”
He says, getting out of the driver seat and walking around the car to open your door. You get out with a sigh and follow him into his home. It was always nice, black and white tiles with hints of blue. The foyer was anything but small, quite large. It had a fountain in the center with a chandelier above it. He truly was living the life. All he needed was you.
“Y/n, I need to ask you something.”
He said, taking you by the hand and leading you to his bedroom, which you’d seen multiple times. You feel nervous, stomach doing backflips of uneasiness as you walk with him. “Yes?” You ask, and when he opens the door to his room you feel a bit better. He probably just wants sex, nothing new right?
“Do you think…”
He pauses, and he thinks for a moment. You can tell he’s nervous too.
“ Do you think I could make you happy? More than with my money?”
His question takes you aback. You had always liked Vox, but for anything more? It was almost like a trick question. What did he mean? “Possibly. If I got to know the real you.” You reply, and he looks to you almost shocked.
“Real me?”
He asks in disbelief. You laugh and walk to his bed laying on it, you begin to take your heels off. “Yes, the real you. Not the Vox everyone else sees and knows. The one you keep to yourself.” You explain, and he feels his dead heart beat quicken.
“Would you like to know the real me?”
He asks reluctantly. You two stare at each other for a second, before you inhale. “Yes… yes I would.” You say, and he’s slower in his walk towards you. As gently as possible, as soft as he can, he reaches for you, gently pulling your face towards him to kiss you and he does. It’s a soft kiss, tender, and passionate. His hands are slow traveling down your arms to rest on your waist.
The real him is soft. Calm. Well-mannered. He tries his hardest not to be like his friend, it bothers him the way his escorts leave in tears. His hands caress you softly, moving to undo the zipper of your dress as he deepens the kiss. The zipper slides down easily, and his kisses trail from your cheek to your neck, leaving hickies wherever he can. The dress drops and pools at your feet, and he takes a moment to admire you.
“You’re gorgeous. You’re perfect.”
He says, and he means it. He truly does. Because he’s fallen in love with you. He moves closer to you, kissing you again while his hands go to undo the back of your bra, letting it slide down your arms. He doesn’t pool away as his hands cup your breasts, and he feels proud when he hears your moan.
“You’re so pretty, so perfect. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
He kisses into your shoulder. He pushes you back onto the bed, laying you down carefully before moving his hands down your sides.
“Let me show you how ‘real’ I can get.”
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daisies-daydreams · 3 months
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I’m in desperate need of a desperate Miguel who worships the very ground his wife walks on 😔🙏 BRO IS HUGE AND I JUST KNOW. I JUST KNOW HE WOULD LOVE TO BE LIKE A CAT AND MAKE BISCUITS ON HIS CHUBBY WIFEY. And the ASSets are just sprinkles on the cake. So let’s just say chubby wifey puts on a whole cute outfit and her hair is cute and everything. They go on a date and Yk she gets stares and compliments..BUT MIGUELS POSSESSIVE ASS IS LIKE ‘keep looking..keep saying stuff..BUT THIS ASS IS MINE’ Yk. And then it ends with Miguel bending us over at a 90 degree angle and possible 180. How does he do it idk. Science.
Adore You (Miguel O’Hara x Plus-Size!Wife!Reader)
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Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Plus-Size!Wife!Reader Category: Fluff/Smut (18+) Warnings: Jealous!Miguel, Swearing, Manhandling, Oral Sex (F!Receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Mating Press, Full Nelson, Unprotected P in V Sex (You know the drill), Rough Sex, Slight Exhibitionism, Creampies, I'm Not Fluent in Spanish Word Count: 5.5k+
A/N: Hi hi! Thank you very much for your request! I love husband!Miguel (that man has my whole heart I swear). I hope you enjoy! 💕
MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI
The valet’s cheeks flushed the second you stepped out of the car.
“G-Good evening ma’am,” the thin man stammered. You flashed him a friendly smile as you smoothed your hands over your dress, your breasts nearly spilling out from the tight-fitting clothing as you adjusted yourself. Your eyes sparkled as you looked up at the luxurious restaurant before you - a large marble building laced with ribbons of ivy. You smiled when your husband, Miguel, came beside you and gingerly laid a hand on your hip.
“Happy anniversary, cariño,” your beloved whispered with a bright grin [honey]. You beamed and turned around, your hands gliding over his muscular forearms. Miguel’s eyes softened as you raised yourself on your tiptoes and puckered your lips. He smiled and dipped his head down to capture your lips in a warm, tender embrace. His brows furrowed when the valet cleared his throat.
“Right,” your husband muttered as he handed the man his keys. The valet thanked him before climbing into the large, black sports car. You squeaked as Miguel’s hand glided from your hip to the globe of your ass.
“Mi amor,” you whispered loudly as your cheeks flushed [My love]. Your husband chuckled.
“What? I’m just escorting my lovely wife inside,” he mused with a wink.
“Mhm,” you hummed with raised brows. Miguel pecked your forehead as he kept his hand over your bum while leading you inside. You looked around in awe at the several marble pillars that lined the walls of the restaurant.
"O'Hara, party of two," your husband said to the hostess at the front desk. The blonde woman nodded before grabbing two thick menus.
"Please follow me!" she chirped. You smiled at your beloved as the two of you were escorted to the back patio. The sound of piano music combined with the casual chatter of the guests filled your ears as you stepped back outside. You gasped when you saw a table set by the balcony: a bottle of wine neatly placed on the side, a card resting on a plate, and rose petals sprinkled across the white table cloth.
"One of our servers will be out momentarily. Enjoy your evening!" the woman said as she clasped her hands together.
"Thank you," you grinned before she turned and walked back inside. Your heart warmed as Miguel took your smaller hand into his.
“Do you like it?” he asked before kissing each and every one of your knuckles. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you nodded.
“I love it. Muchas gracias, mi vida,” you sniffed [Thank you so much, my life]. Your husband smiled and cupped your cheek.
"De nada, mi amor," he whispered [You’re welcome]. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as Miguel stepped over and pulled out your chair.
"Mi señora," he hummed [My lady].
"Gracias, mi caballero," you giggled as you took your seat [Thank you, my gentleman]. Miguel kissed the top of your head just as your waiter strolled up to the table.
“Welcome to Le Jardin de Marbre! My name is Mark and I’ll be taking care of you this...fine evening,” the dark-haired man lilted as his eyes grazed over your form. You felt Miguel shift behind you before Mark's smile fell. He cleared his throat while your husband took his seat. “Would the two of you care for any other drinks besides your wine?” the waiter asked.
“Yes, I'll have a water, please,” you replied. Miguel simply nodded with a short grunt. Mark grinned before popping open the bottle of red wine. You gasped as the cork flew over your head and over the balcony.
“Ah, I’ll get it later,” the waiter laughed nervously. You giggled while Miguel’s furrowed his thick brows. Mark leaned close to you while he tilted the neck of the bottle over your sparkling glass.
“Might I say you look wonderful this evening, ma’am,” the bold man whispered. You flushed a little as you gazed back down at the menu.
“Th-Thank you,” you muttered. You blinked as you shifted your gaze between your glass and the bottle. “Um, that’s good,” you piped up. Mark looked down to see that he’s nearly filled your entire glass.
“Sorry about that,” he said with an apologetic smile. Miguel raised a brow as he poured his drink next. Mark's hands shook as your husband's frown slowly shifted into a deep scowl. The server placed the bottle down before stepping back.
“I’ll go get your waters,” Mark said before quickly turning on his heel. You took a small sip of your wine, the slightly sweet flavor washing over your taste buds as you turned your attention to the card in front of you.
“Would you like me to open it now?” you asked.
“I'll leave it up to you,” he smiled before taking a sip of his drink. Your heart skipped a beat as you carefully ripped the envelope open. You pulled the card out with a giddy smile as you straightened in your seat. You smiled as you opened it, a small postcard slipping out. You eyed it briefly before your attention was stolen by the words in front of you:
“Mi Cielo,
Words can’t describe how much love I have for you. Every day I’m thankful to have you as my wife-my beloved. You make my heart glow when I wake up next to you every morning, when I get home from work, when you hold me after I’ve had a long day. You are so precious, (Y/N), and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with someone as incredible as you.
Te amo mucho, mi vida. Feliz aniversario.
Sincerely,
Tu gran oso”
Tears streamed down your cheeks as your bottom lip trembled.
“Lo siento, mi amor. I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Miguel cooed as he brushed his thumb over your cheek [I’m sorry, my life]. You shook your head.
“No, it’s okay. I’m just so, so happy to have someone as amazing as you in my life,” you beamed. Miguel’s eyes softened as he slipped his hand into yours again.
“Gracias, bella,” he murmured [Thank you, beautiful]. “Did you see the little gift I left in there?” Miguel asked with a sparkle in his eye. You glanced down at your lap to see the postcard staring up at you. Your heart raced as you picked it up, admiring the picturesque image of Niagara Falls. You curiously flipped it over.
“Make sure to bring your raincoat ♥️”
You gasped and looked up.
“You mean…” your voice trailed off. Miguel smiled brightly and nodded.
“I was even able to book the same suite. It’s only for a long weekend, but I know those few days will be well spent with you, mi vida,” he cooed as he kissed your hand. You couldn’t stop yourself from getting up and wrapping your arms around your husband, your heart brimming with joy.
You’ll never forget that day he took you to Niagara Falls. It was a complete surprise when Miguel knelt down on the deck of your hotel room, the rumble of the falls filling your ears as he asked you to spend the rest of your life with him.
“Te amo mucho, gran oso,” you sniffed [I love you very much, big bear]. Miguel cupped your cheek before pressing another tender kiss to your lips.
“Te amo mucho, conejita,” Miguel beamed [I love you very much, little bunny]. You bit your lip as you pulled back and took your seat. Your heart pounded against your sternum as you pulled out the small box from your purse.
“My gift isn’t as big,” you said a little sheepishly. Miguel parted his lips as you handed the box to him.
“Oh, bebé. You know I’ll love any gift you give me,” he cooed [baby]. He leaned in closer. “Size doesn’t matter, right?” Miguel smirked. You rolled your eyes and laughed.
“Right…it’s how you use it,” you reply with a wry grin. Miguel shook his head as he chuckled.
“I love your quick wit, conejita,” your beloved hummed. You leaned forward on your elbows as you watched Miguel start to unwrap his gift. You bit your lip as he pulled the lid off with a quiet "pop". His eyes lit up when he saw a silver watch glisten beneath the dim candlelight. You squeezed your hands in your lap as he slipped it out of the box.
“Oh, hermosa,” Miguel breathed as he slid the watch against his wrist [beautiful]. You bit your lip a little harder as he admired it. “The very first gift you gave me,” he murmured softly. You nodded as you rubbed the back of your neck.
“I know you said that you’ve been meaning to get it fixed for a while, so I stopped by the jewelers last month,” you said. Miguel clasped the watch over his wrist, smiling as he observed the hands of the little clock tick by.
“Thank you so much, (Y/N),” Miguel smiled as he leaned forward. Your heart skipped a beat as you met him in the middle, your lips slowly caressing each other in a loving embrace. You sighed as he cupped your cheek, your heart fluttering as his warm lips sweetly brushed over yours. You pulled your head back when someone nearby cleared their throat.
“Your water, ma'am,” Mark said as he placed your glass onto the table. "Sir," he said to Miguel with a bit more flat tone. You slumped back in your chair before realizing you haven't even looked at the menu.
"We still need a few minutes," you said to your waiter.
"Of course," Mark said with a bright grin before excusing himself. You and Miguel relaxed as you opened your menus. You smiled at the way the candlelight flickered in Miguel’s soft, brown eyes.
Tonight couldn’t have been more perfect.
+++
You patted your napkin over your mouth before sinking into your seat with a satisfied smile.
“That was the best food I’ve had in a while,” you sighed happily. Your husband quirked one of his thick, dark brows.
“Even better than my cooking?” Miguel asked. Your eyes widened.
“Oh, um, well-“ your husband started to chuckle.
“Don’t worry, hermosa. I know my cooking’s terrible,” he snickered. You giggled.
“I mean, I was going to say something…” you lilted. Miguel placed a hand over his chest as if cradling a fresh wound.
“Ouch,” he replied.
“You said it, not me,” you shrugged before taking another sip of your wine. Miguel chuckled, his eyes half lidded as they raked over your form.
“I think this wine’s making us both a bit too bold,” Miguel smirked. Your cheeks warmed as he gently reached beneath the table and laid his hand on your knee. You bit your lip as a wave of heat swept through your core.
“Maybe that’s not such a bad thing,” you replied with a low whisper. Just as Miguel tilted his head and leaned forward, Mark’s shadow loomed over the two of you.
“Your bill, sir,” he said as he set the paper down on the table. Your love made no effort to hide his annoyance as he took the receipt.
“Thanks,” your husband said. He pulled out his credit card after the server briskly walked away. Miguel sighed and rose from his seat. “I’ll be right back,” he whispered with quick peck to your cheek. You grinned and watched as he walked back into the restaurant.
+++
Miguel hummed as he strolled towards the restroom. It’s been so long since his heart has felt this full. Your smile, your laugh, the smooth, gentle touch of your lips against his all made him feel more complete. Miguel wore a bright grin as he pushed the restroom door wide open.
“Did you see the juicy ass on that chick sitting next to the balcony?” Mark loudly whispered. Miguel froze and lingered in the doorway when he saw two waiters at the urinals.
“Dude, I know. I’d love a piece of that cake…if you know what I mean,” the other server chortled. Miguel narrowed his eyes. Okay, there’s a lot of people out on the patio. Surely they weren’t-
“And that tight, black dress-fuck. Can’t imagine how those pretty tits would look while she’s-“
Both of them whipped their heads around when Miguel let the door slam behind him, a deadly glint flickering in his eyes as his jaw tightened.
“Excuse me, I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation,” he said while straightening his shoulders. Mark frowned as his eyes grew to the size of dinner plates.
“O-Oh,” he simply replied as he awkwardly shuffled in place. Miguel tilted his head, his muscles bulging beneath his crisp suit.
“H-Hey man. We didn’t mean any harm,” the other waiter said as he hastily zipped up his pants. Miguel scoffed and narrowed his eyes.
“Well, I suggest you speak about my wife with much more respect-or any woman for that matter,” he spat. Their faces grew cherry red as Miguel tugged on his jacket. “Now, if you’ll excuse me gentlemen, I’m going to go home and make love to my beautiful wife,” Miguel said as he tugged on his jacket. He scowled as he turned on his heel and stomped back outside.
+++
You blinked as Miguel strolled up to the table. To say he looked enraged would’ve been an understatement: his nostrils were flared, shoulders tensed and face glowing a bright cherry red.
“Miguel, what’s wrong?” you asked as you placed a hand on his large arm. Your husband paused as he glanced towards the glass doors. His eyes became half-lidded as he took your hand into his before pulling you up. You squeaked as he reached down and cupped his other palm against the globe of your ass.
“M-Miguel,” you said in a loud whisper as you nervously glanced around. You could’ve sworn you saw him smirk as the waiter rushed up to your table. Mark’s hands trembled as he threw the credit card and receipt down.
“Thankyouhavealovelyevening!” he squeaked before running back into the building. You furrowed your brows before grabbing your things.
"I wonder what happened to him?" you wondered aloud as you slipped your cards into your purse. Your face glowed with heat as Miguel squeezed your supple ass with more force before guiding you across the patio.
“Miguel, people are looking,” you whispered as your eyes scanned the crowd.
“Let them look,” he replied with a low rumble as he opened the door for you. You tilted your head down as waiters, patrons, even the receptionist stared as your husband escorted you to the front of the building.
Miguel didn’t even need to say anything as the two of you made your way towards the valet stand, the man’s face beet red as you approached. He quickly snatched your keys and rushed to get your car, nearly tripping over the curb in the process. You glanced up at your beloved, his face twisted with even more fury than before. You bit your lip as you turned around and rested your hands on his chest.
“Miguel, bebé, please tell me what’s wrong,” you pleaded while rubbing your palms against his white button-up. Miguel’s shoulders remained stiff as you rubbed his chest, your bottom lip poking out every so slightly. "¿Por favor?" you asked [Please?]. He frowned and glanced away as the valet rolled up with your car and scrambled towards you.
“H-Have a good evening,” the man said, his face completely drained of all color. You gave the valet an apologetic smile before you slid into the black, polished car. The tension on the ride home was nearly unbearable. Miguel’s jaw clenched and unclenched as he kept his eyes on the road, his large hands gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned pale. The sound of soft jazz playing on the radio did little to ease the knot of anxiety tightening in your chest.
Did you do something wrong? Did he actually hate the gift you gave him? He put so much effort into booking the restaurant and the place the two of you stayed where he proposed to you…and what did you give him? A repaired watch.
You felt completely deflated by the time Miguel pulled up to your apartment complex.
“We’re home,” he said in a subdued voice. You nodded, your heart sinking into your stomach as you unbuckled your seatbelt. Your shoes clacked against the sidewalk as the two of you made your way to the front door.
“Evening, Mr. and Mrs. O’Hara,” the doorman Ben said.
"Evening, Ben," you said with a small smile. Your throat tightened when Miguel wrapped one of his bulky arms around you and pulled you to his side. You frowned as the two of you stepped inside, his grip unyielding as you walked into the elevator. You felt Miguel loosen his hold on you, allowing you some space to step back.
“Miguel, what-” you gasped when he pinned you against the wall and captured your mouth in a wet, sloppy kiss. Your breasts rubbed against your strapless bra as you felt him slide his tongue past your lips, his wet muscle tangling with yours as something hard poked at the inside of your thigh. You panted when he pulled back, his pupils blown and drinking in your curvaceous form.
“Y-You’re not mad at me?” you blinked. Your husband furrowed his dark brows.
“Mad? Why would I be mad at you, mi ángel?” Miguel purred as he rested his hands on your hips [my angel]. You gripped the lapels of his navy blue jacket as he began to grind his hard cock against your clothed pussy. You bit your lip as a pulse of arousal shot through your core.
“Te deseo, Mami,” your love groaned [I want you, Mommy]. You gasped as he rubbed his hard, throbbing cock against your crotch while he kneaded the supple flesh of your waist. “God, you have no idea how much I wanted to rip this dress off your body and fuck you right on that patio,” he rumbled and nipped at the shell of your ear. You shivered as Miguel trailed his lips over your pulse.
“Miguel,” you panted as he ground his hips against you, your clit throbbing against the fabric of your silky panties. Your husband pulled back as soon as the elevator dinged.
“Mi amor, por fa - te necesito,” he husked as he dipped his hand beneath your chin and tilted your head up [My love, please - I need you]. You felt your inhibitions quickly dissolve as a wave of heat pulsed through your core.
“Soy todo tuyo,” you whispered as you laid your hands over his chest [I’m yours]. You moaned as he bared his teeth against your neck and slid his hands over your plump ass. You squeaked and ducked your head into his broad shoulder when he slapped your rear, the slight sting sending ripples of arousal through your heat.
“I’m going to make sure you never forget this night,” Miguel growled as he kneaded your supple cheeks in his massive palms. Your heart raced as he picked you up by your waist and carried you into the penthouse. You dropped your purse on the tiled floor as you threaded your fingers through his dark, silky locks. Miguel groaned as your lips met in a passionate dance, your tongues gliding across one another with a soft squelch. You hungrily devoured each other’s mouths in a heated kiss as he kicked the bedroom door open. You squeaked at the sudden noise and tensed in his arms.
“Lo siento. I didn’t mean to startle you,” Miguel whispered, his plump lips dancing over yours [I’m sorry].
“It’s okay,” you murmured gently, your hands falling down to wrap around his thick neck. Your husband's eyes raked across your body as he laid you down on the plush, king-sized bed. You dug your nails into the back of his neck as he suckled over the nape of your neck, his deft fingers rolling the skirt of your dress over your hips. He sucked in a sharp breath when he laid eyes on your clothed sex.
“See what you do to me, bebé?” Miguel groaned before taking your hand and trailing it down his shirt. Your breath hitched when you felt the heavy, hard cock twitch against your palm. You bit your lip and mewled as your love nipped at your soft skin.
“Papi, fuck,” you gasped as he slid your thong to the side and rubbed at your slick, puffy folds with his digits. You husband rumbled as he spread your pussy lips apart with his thick fingers.
"Mm, tan mojada," Miguel groaned with a smirk [so wet].
"Please, Miguel," you swallowed thickly as you spread your legs as much as you could. Your husband licked his lips as he locked eyes with you.
"Don't worry, baby. Just need to make sure you're stretched out for my cock first," he rumbled. Your mouth opened in a silent moan when he suddenly sank two of his thick digits inside your tight, weeping hole.
“Oh my God!” you shivered and gripped the sheets as he curled his fingertips against your sensitive, spongey g-spot. Your gummy walls clenched around his two digits as Miguel chuckled. He parted his lips as he massaged your hip, his eyes lit with a deep, primal hunger.
“That’s it, bebé. Keep making those pretty noises for me,” Miguel grunted as relentlessly thrusted his fingers inside your plush cunt. Your eyes widened as he kissed down your chest and stomach before hovering his lips over your mound.
“S-Shit!” you moaned and arched your back as your husband dipped his head down and eagerly suckled on your bundle of nerves. Miguel grunted against your juicy slit, your arousal smearing over his broad chin as you ground your hips against his face. “M-Miguel, baby,” you groaned as your love flattened his warm tongue over your engorged bud.
“Tan bueno - sabe tan bien,” he growled against your wet folds before lapping at your clit [So good - tastes so good]. Tears of pleasure pricked at the corners of your eyes as Miguel continued to fuck your tight pussy with his thick fingers.
“Bebé,” you choked as you felt his digits stretch you out while he swirled his tongue around your bundle of nerves. Your jaw went slack when he curled his fingers inside you again, letting the intoxicating pressure linger for much longer.
“Make a mess on my face, Mami,” your husband urged with a low growl. A high-pitched cry left your swollen lips as Miguel eagerly pumped his fingers in and out of your tight, slick hole, the tension in your lower belly growing tighter and tighter.
“S-Sí Papi - just like that,” you encouraged him as you fisted the crisp bedsheets. Miguel groaned as your arousal dripped down his chin and neck, his tongue painting bold, wet stripes from your stuffed hole and all the way up to your clit. Your eyes rolled back as he pumped his fingers even faster while puckering his lips around your bundle of nerves.
“M-Miguel!” you squealed when he suddenly pulled his fingers out, leaving your hole puckering and begging for more. A bolt of pleasure struck through you when he started to hastily unbuckle his belt.
“Lo siento, mi vida. I can’t wait anymore,” Miguel growled as he shoved his slacks and briefs down in one swift motion. Your cunt fluttered when you saw his thick, heavy cock spring free, a thick bead of precum adorning his flush tip. Your husband's eyes remained on your dripping cunt as he shoved his jacket and white button-up onto the floor. Your mouth watered as you stared at the mortal Adonis standing in front of you, his rippling muscles tensing as he pumped his girthy shaft.
You gasped as he quickly climbed on top of you and cupped his palms against the back of your knees. You squealed when Miguel pushed your legs towards your shoulders, your puffy tummy poking out as he nearly folded you in half.
“Ah!” you cried as he slammed his cock inside you in one fluid thrust. Your legs tensed in his grip as you tried to adjust to the sudden fullness inside you, his girth stretching your tight hole with a delicious burn.
“Eyes on me, conejita,” Miguel murmured, his hot breath falling over your face and neck. You glanced through the sheet of tears that blurred your vision, your body quaking with pleasure as you felt the head of his cock kiss your cervix.
“I want you to make as much noise as you'd like. Don't worry about the neighbors...for tonight, it's just the two of us. Okay, Mami?” Miguel rasped before nipping the shell of your ear. You whined as your walls ached for the sweet drag of his veiny cock. You nodded vigorously as you bit your lip, the heaviness of his cock deliciously weighing in your tight hole.
"Such a good little wife," Miguel grunted as he pulled his taut hips back. Your heart skipped a beat as Miguel rested his forehead against yours before he sheathed his cock down to the hilt.
“Fuck!" you choked as you felt the slight sting of his cock molding your walls to its shape.
“God, I love how your tight, perfect pussy grips me,” Miguel murmured as he rocked his hips back and forth. His breath hitched as your walls squeezed his veiny shaft. Your cheeks burned as he wrapped his lips around yours while he thrusted into you at a rapid, sloppy pace.
“M-Miguel!” you screamed and wrung your hands in the sheets as your lover pounded into your cunt, each drag of his cock deliciously stretching you out more and more. You squealed as Miguel squeezed the back of your knees, his balls slapping against your plump asscheeks. You shivered as he released a deep growl, his cock throbbing and twitching between your swollen, gummy walls.
“R-Right there Papi!” you yelled as the bulbous head of his cock perfectly grazed over your g-spot. You threw your head back as your husband leaned forward and wrapped his lips around yours while he desperately pounded into your raw cunt.
“So good, so good to me," he panted. You moaned as you felt your cunt already starting to clamp down on his shaft.
“M-Miguel, wait! I’m gonna-” you were cut off when he pressed his lips to your neck, his hips snapping against yours and making your thick asscheeks clap loudly.
“Cum for me, conejita,” he grunted. Your bottom lip trembled as the tight knot in your belly suddenly snapped.
“MIGUEL!” you screamed as your slick walls clenched around his girth. Miguel’s thrusts stuttered as your pussy squeezed his cock in a vice grip, your slick gushing past the stuffed seam of your raw, tight cunt.
“Mierda,” your husband breathed as you unraveled beneath him [Shit]. You babbled as your cunt pulsed; every contraction sending an overwhelming wave of bliss over your trembling form. You moaned as Miguel continued to thrust his cock inside your weeping cunt, your arousal sticking to the front of his thighs as he groaned above you. Hot tears rolled down your puffy cheeks when Miguel suddenly pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach.
“Miguel?” you breathed as your heart raced. Your squealed as your husband pulled you up and wrapped his arms beneath your knees.
“Unphase the blinds to level zero,” Miguel rumbled. Your eyes widened as he lifted you up and immediately sheathed you down on his stiff cock, your slick pussy swallowing his length whole.
“¡P-Papi!” you gasped as he carried you over to your wide bedroom windows, the holographic blinds slowly fading to reveal the neon glow of Nueva York. Your thighs shook in his bulky arms as he froze just inches from the window. Your heart raced as you gazed at the lewd reflection of yourself in the crystal glass, your hot breath fogging against the clear surface.
Your jaw went slack as Miguel started to thrust into your wet heat, your gushing cunt squelching with each snap of his hips.
“Look down there, mi amor. Look at all those men who will never be able to fuck you like I do,” he rasped as he bounced you on his shaft. Your eyes glazed over as you gazed down at the streets below. You’d be more embarrassed had you not just cum on your husband’s dick…but there was a tiny part of you that indulged in being claimed by your beloved. “They’ll never get to hear your pretty moans, feel your soft, perfect pussy grip their cocks,” Miguel growled as he nipped at your neck. You dug your nails into his forearm as he pounded into your cunt with no restraint, his breathing growing ragged and arms tensing beneath your legs.
“Say you’re mine, (Y/N),” he groaned before puckering his lips over your pulse. You moaned as shook in his hold as you tried to swim through the haze of your ecstasy.
“I-I’m yours, Papi!” you screamed. You gasped as Miguel raked his teeth over your hickey.
“Who do you belong to?!” he snarled. You sobbed as your cunt greedily sucked in his cock with.
“I belong to you, Miguel!” you moaned loudly. You mewled as your arousal leaked onto the floor.
“Good girl, good fucking girl,” your husband groaned as he kissed your cheek before thrusting even faster.
“Mmmm-Miguel,” you slurred. You screamed silently as he sank his teeth into your shoulder, the slight sting mixing with the intoxicating pleasure that rippled through your core. Your throat tightened as his cock dragged along your soft walls, your slick dripping down the inside of your thighs and gliding over your jiggling asscheeks.
“Gonna cum for me again, hm?” Miguel husked before tracing the tip of his tongue across the fresh bite mark.
“S-Sí, Papi,” you whined. You felt him smirk against your shoulder as he kept you in front of the window, your heart racing at the thought of someone seeing the two of you in such an intimate position. You moaned as his thrusts began to falter, his hot breath falling over your exposed skin.
“M-Mig-!” you shouted as your vision was flooded with white.
“Yes, that’s it Mami. S-Soak this fat fucking cock with your sweet cum,” your husband rasped as you threw your head against his shoulder.
“Fuck,” you sobbed as a wave of pleasure rushed through your heat, your pussy squirting all over his massive, swollen cock. Miguel groaned as he squeezed your legs.
“So close,” he hissed through gritted teeth as his cock twitched inside your fluttering walls. You gripped your hands over his as your body jiggled with every powerful snap of his hips.
“Por fa Papi…fill me,” you whispered breathily. Miguel grunted against your neck as he slammed you down on his cock for the last time. Both of you moaned as he painted your slick walls white with thick, heavy ropes of his seed. You felt Miguel shiver behind you as his cock throbbed, his warm cum splashing against your swollen cervix.
“Yes,” Miguel growled deeply as he kept your back pressed to his chest. You swallowed thickly and shuddered as his cock began to soften inside you, thick beads of his cum swelling and dripping down the curve of your ass. The air was filled with your deep, heavy breaths, your bodies coated in a thin sheen of sweat.
“That was…wow,” you didn’t even have the mental capacity to describe what just happened. Miguel chuckled softly and nodded.
“Yeah,” he grinned and pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. You squealed as he gave your legs another gentle squeeze. “Activate blinds to ten,” Miguel called out. The windows soon fogged up with the holographic blinds again as he took a step back. Your eyelids began to grow heavy as he carried you to bed. You whimpered when your giant husband laid both of you down, his cock softening between your raw, oversensitive walls. You sighed as you felt his hands mindlessly wander across your body, his lips grazing your neck every so often.
“Do you want to take a shower?” Miguel murmured as his lips dancing over your pulse. You sighed.
“Actually, could we just stay here for a little bit?” you asked and slightly turned his face. The corners of your husband’s eyes crinkled as he gave you a gentle smile.
“Of course, mi amor,” he purred and pecked your lips. You returned his grin as he kept you against his chest, his large, bulky arms wrapped around you like a cozy cocoon. You kissed his bulging bicep before tracing your fingertips across the many dips and curves of his arm. Miguel sighed as he nuzzled his face against your neck, his warm breath tickling over your pulse.
“Te amo mucho, (Y/N),” your beloved whispered before gently kissing your cheek. You sighed as you relished in the way his lips lingered on your skin while you closed your eyes.
“Te amo mucho, Miguel,” you murmured softly.
----
Thank you for reading! 💖
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526 notes · View notes
ginger4sugar · 9 months
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☆彡𝐀 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐂ミ★
ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵗʷᵒ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ!!
Characters included — Armin x black! reader, connie has a lil dialogue, sasha and mikasa r present cause bad bitches hang with bad bitches
Ginger’s Notes — I wasn’t expecting to write this much, but here we are— might make a part 2 to this if it’s like enough cause ion know he doing something for me in this one… not proofread just yet, i’ll do it after my nap ( maybe )
Content warning— Smut ( no p n v ), fingering, x fem! black reader, weed is mentioned, the n word is said a few times, armin being called white boy— alot, modern au, partying, and yk y/n being that bitch— let me know if there’s more that i missed!!
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Armin was what his friends like to call, a safe call. Their token white boy. He was everything his friends weren’t, on the outside at least. While he was surrounded by drug dealers and rappers— he was just Armin, the one getting his degree, and loaded parents. But, in no way did that make him soft.
You would be stupid to think that. He wasn’t loud and arrogant about what he did, he preferred to be on the sidelines, observing until he felt like his presence was needed. He was the voice of reason, that one phone call you needed if you were detained, everyone’s cover up.
Cause not only was his record as clean as a whistle— he was also the best liar and manipulator out of his friends. Like his words were laced with sugar and hope. His tongue slicker than any oil to exist.
You had heard of him, seeing him in the background of many of your friends stories on instagram from the parties they attended, quiet and outta of the way with a red solo cup in hand. But to you, he wasn’t anything— your average white boy, that so happened to be surrounded by the criminals and entertainers of your generation and town.
He was nothing special.
Maybe that’s why you didn’t bat a eyelash at him not caring you felt his gaze on you while you maneuvered your way through sasha’s house party. He wasn’t your type— he didn’t have the edge you liked.
“Bruh, you keep staring at shawty like that, she gon think yo ass a creep and dip —” Connie voice rang through the blonde’s ears before a chuckle left his lips, forcing Armin to bring his eyes to the male on his right. Though Connie’s words didn’t discourage the blonde as his index finger tapped at the side of his cup filled with whatever alcohol he had gotten his hands on with a grin on his lips.
“Who is she?” Was all he asked before Connie eyes scanned the crowd to find your figure, even taking his time to trail down your outfit while you were talking to some nigga that was trying his hardest to impress you. Connie couldn’t help but let another laugh leave his lips.
It confused Armin, he didn’t see anything funny while he turned his attention back to you, “That’s y/n, biggest brat in here that totes a gun. She fuck wit all tha shoota’s, ” The male said which earned a hum from the blonde, taking a mental note of the girl and the small piece of information. Just as you pressed your hand on the nigga that tried to talk to you chest, pushing him away before walking pass.
and best believe, connie and armin was watching as you walked away, before connie sucked in a breath and shook his head, his eyes not leaving your ass before you were outta sight “Yo ass can’t handle that white boy.” The male said to his blonde friend, earning a scoff from armin before he pushed himself off the wall he was previously leaned against, moving through the crowd of drunks and high characters. He made it his job to follow you, wanting to prove just how wrong connie was.
When he found you, you were sitting right in the middle on the couch with both sasha and mikasa on your sides. Your index finger and thumb held onto a blunt before bringing it to your lips— Armin immediately taking notice of your nails that showcased on your fingers, his mind wandering as he thought how they were gonna look later, wrapped around his dick before he pressed it between your lips.
Standing in front of couch where you sat, Armin nodded his head at mikasa and sasha who waved back at the blonde, before his blue eyes laid on you— your lips parting to exhale the smoke into the already stuffy air of the party.
“Hey.”
“ Ya finally done staring huh?”
So you have noticed him looking at you ever since you walked in— cause he definitely wasn’t trying to hide it. “mhm, what’s your name?” he asked, though he already knew the answer, sasha and mikasa looked at you as they laughed lightly, before you passed the blunt to mikasa, joining in on their laughter, “Who wants to know?” you asked with a tilt of your head
If Armin didn’t know any better, he would’ve walked away right there— but he didn’t, cause he had something to prove and he couldn’t lie, you looked too good to pass up. “Me. Don’t tell me you’re all looks and no brain— that would be a waste.” He said watching your eyes squint before you could say something he was beating you to it “It’s cool though, i like ‘em’ a lil clueless.” you two never broke eye contact before you let your eyes drag down his form before back to his eyes.
“ ‘s y/n.”
“I’m armin.” he said simply before you nodded your head while looking around, scoping the scene to make sure there was no one else you rather be giving your attention to before turning back towards armin, who awaited for you to say something and when you did,
“So, — what you trying to do, white boy?”
Armin already knew he had already won. “You trying to find out?” He asked holding his hand out to you. Only a bit of hesitation as you grabbed his hand allowing him to lift you off the couch “yea.” was all you had to say.
“Bet.”
Armin wasted no time leading you through the sea of partying folks, his hand on the small of your back the whole time you two pushed through the crowd and up the stairs. And before you knew it, he was pushing you into a empty room— and from the decor it was the guest room. “My homeboys say you have a type.” armin spoke, locking the door behind himself as you sat on the edge of the bed, unable to control the small chuckle that left your glossed lips “I guess you can say that.”
He hummed “I just love when hood niggas treat me like they hood ass princess.” You expanded on your statement, moving up the bed to give armin enough room to join you, which he did, kneeling onto the bottom of the bed before grabbing your ankle and pulling you closer— honestly seemed like he wasn’t listening as he removed his shirt, tossing it to the side.
“But im not expecting that from you, white boy.” the words slipping from your lips so smoothly that armin almost didn’t catch it as he pushed your cropped tank over your tits. “That’s good.” he spoke in an almost hushed tone, his palms fondling the flesh on your chest before moving his hands lower to push your jean skirt up— now having a clear view of your panties— that were already sticking to your cunt from your arousal, cause no matter how hard you try to act like you’re not interested in armin, your body betrayed you.
Especially as he dragged the now useless cloth off you and, you were oblivious enough to miss how he stuffed your panties into his pocket. Just before he was spitting on your already soaking pussy and was slipping his two fingers inside your cunt, leaving you too caught up in the sudden invasion to make another snarky remark before he was fucking you with his fingers. His pace ruthless and precise— you almost forgot who you were with already. cause damn was he good with his hands.
Even then, the blonde was grinning over you, watching as you tried your best to keep your whimpers at bay, while his free hand wrapped around your throat with a squeeze, your eyes going back to focus on the blue ones that stared down at you not noticing your glossed lips parted with pants and whines.
“That’s good, cause this “white boy” doesn’t fuck his bitches like princesses— he treats them like the sluts they are.”
He was gonna make sure his name was engrained in your mind after tonight, cause his name wasn’t white boy.
“This “white boy” is gonna have you cumming all over his fingers, pretty girl.” he spoke as if this was normal conversation— as if his fingers weren’t touching parts of you, that you didn’t even know existed. You tried to listen, and your eyes tried their best to stop from rolling to the back of your skull as his thumb found its way to your clit.
“Then, this “white boy” is gonna fuck you so hard— you won’t see color. Cause baby believe this,” your attention was back on him as he tightened his grip slightly around your throat.
“I’m definitely your fucking type.”
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sturncrazy · 3 months
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LIFE OF THE PARTY PART ONE:
( prt 2 )
- Chris Sturniolo x y/n (fem)
- warnings: mentioning of drinking, language, kissing, some making out
- authors note: this chpt is pretty pg nothing beyond a little heavy kissing….things don’t heat up until the next part. you gotta have some build up yk…
summary: you attended an end of year party for your school with your friends but run into chris who you don’t get along with. someone has the bright idea of starting a game of spin the bottle and your whole night changes…
word count: 2,224 w
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It was one of the last friday nights of school before your summer vacation started and you were trying to make the most of it by dragging yourself out to a party with you friends. It was a small party, all things considered, with only about 25 other people there, but it was still enough bodies to make the basement setting a bit stuffy for your liking. The room buzzed with voices and shitty rap music from some of the boys being on aux. The dim orangey old lighting made the room feel extra hazy. You sat on a couch surveying the group and fussy with your skirt that was a little too short to sit safely. The group was full of familiar faces from your classes, some more than others. You noticed your friend Madi, who’d wanted you to come here in the first place, already stumbling and slurring a bit in the corner by some guys. Staring down at your lukewarm half empty white claw, you decided to go get something stronger…it would be an awfully long night if you ended up being the sober one. As you headed towards the table with the drinks you bumped into Matt.
“Hey y/n! You okay?”
he asked giving you a half hug. you and Matt had been friends for a couple years now after you’d gotten close to his brother nick. Matt was a sweetheart and always had a reassuring presence.
“Yeah! Hey Matt! Yeah no i’m good just need somethin else to drink”
“Gotcha. Well Chris is lurking over by the drinks so tell him i said to stop being a dick to everyone when you see him” He said letting out a small snort and then running off to catch up with his friend Nate.
Perfect…you’d have to interact with Chris. You couldn’t understand why, but you and Chris never clicked. It was strange since you were so close with both his brothers and Madi, who was basically his sister, was your best friend. But the two of you never got along. He was snarky and condescending. You didn’t like his whole superiority complex. And you knew it was a mutual issue. He always made underbreath remarks about you being a “tight ass.” Even though that wasn’t the case at all, you were just shy. Whatever, doesn’t matter what he thinks you thought to yourself as you built back up the will power to continue your mission to get another drink.
You tried to avoid looking at Chris as you scanned the half emptied bottles of various liquors, all probably snagged from oblivious parents collections, but you could feel his eyes drilling into your skull.
“Another drink already y/n?” Chris snarled at you.
“What? you expecting me to hand you a drink voucher or something?” you spat back still avoiding actually looking at him.
“No need to get all huffy. just thought you’d be shitting yourself after a sip of a claw is all” he snickered at his own comment.
“You know I can drink, Chris. You’ve seen me drink before” You said snagging a solo cup and pouring some juice in it.
“Oh no….do we need to have an intervention is it time for the AA meeting?” he teased, mocking you, as you started to unscrew a bottle of vodka. this made you snap.
“screw you you know what i meant. Don’t give me shit. at least i’m actually fun at parties” you said, finally looking up at him. He stood lazily leaning against the wall. he wore loose fit black jeans that sat on his body casually with air forces peaking out of the bottom paired with a simple white t shirt. a stupidly simple outfit that had no business looking that good. You felt a lump in your throat as you scanned his face. Wide blue eyes, slightly hazy from whatever was in his own red cup he’d been toying with, gazed at you with a sarcastic glint through a curtain of mussed brown hair. You hated the fact that for some reason actually looking a Chris always made your stomach do a little cartwheel.
“Like you weren’t just off in the corner just like me a few minutes ago” he retorted
“What’re you watching me?”
“Just observing my surroundings” he lifted his glass to you in a phony cheers before taking a sip, annoyingly unbothered by your attempted jab at him.
“Well it’s not my fault that the party’s been a little dull” you sulked and let a few too many glugs of vodka slam into your cup
“Don’t blame the party. we both know even if this was a rager you’d be clinging to a wall. You’re not capable of letting loose, but hey not everyone in this world is meant to have fun. it’s why we have like math and shit”
You knew he was doing whatever he could to just get under your skin and it was working. You hated how much you wanted to prove him wrong, but you knew another word out of you in protest would only make him cockier. You slammed your revolting concoction to try to suffocate the things you wanted to spit out at him. Shivering slightly, you made another cup full, aware of the fact that his eyes were still on you. Luckily, in that moment a plastered Madi came bounding over to you with Nick not far behind.
“Y/N cmon we’re gonna start a around of spin the bottle so I can try to kiss the boy from my biology class i was telling you about”
“But shhhhh donttell anyone cause it’s a secret” Nick added drunkly giggling and clinging to madi
“I dunno guys isn’t that game kinda childish” you said mostly fearing the idea of getting stuck kissing some gross slobbery drunk guy
“oh cmonnnnn y/n don’t be boring it’ll be funnnn it’s always fun to stir the pot at parties” Nick continued whining
“Yeah don’t be boring y/n” Chris chimed in, clearly listening in on this whole conversation.
“Chris come on you come too!” Madi said attempting to drag him in
“If i have to watch him kiss anyone i will puke on the spot” Nick said grimacing at the thought
“Yeah i’ll pass” Chris said pulling back
“Ugh whatever, you coming y/n?” Madi asked pleading with you. You hesitated. Chris let out a small chuckle
“What?” you asked him.
“Nothin. Just the day I see you play a game like that i’ll shit twice and die.”
“hmmm. your funeral. yeah madi, let’s go” you said taking your friends hand and shooting him a look. for a second you thought you saw a wave of actual surprise flash across his face.
“REALLY?! YAY!!!” Madi cheered doing a little dance and pulling you to follow nick who’d already darted off to collect other people to play. Chris stood there looking unsure of what to do, but unfortunately Madi saw this too. She grabbed him by the wrist with her other hand yanking him along too
“Cmon chris if you’re such a lady’s man u can’t back out of a little game”
The three of you joined a cluster forming on the floor of people surrounding an empty pink whitney bottle. Chris had managed to break off from Madis grasp, but hadn’t decided to leave the circle. Instead he headed towards a few of his lacrosse friends. You carefully sat on the floor beside Madi as Nick started the game.
The beginning part was boring— mostly suffering through watching other intoxicated teens smush spitty mouths together. you found yourself continually reaching for your little red cup to make the experience more tolerable. It had started to have its effects on you and you were sitting in a blissful bubble of your own fuzzy buzzed state when you became aware of madi poking at you.
“Cmon y/n go! it’s your turn to spin” she slurred as your face flushed hot with embarrassment from delaying the game. you heard chris and one of his friends snicker and you shot him daggers from across the room as you reached for the bottle. You gave it a solid spin and watched it rotating, making you dizzy. slowly it began to end its journey and pick your fate. it stopped. you heard an “oh shit” muttered from close by your side as your gaze followed the direction of the bottle cap…to a pair of white air forces sticking out of black denim. No fucking way. you thought to yourself as you were met by the same wide blue eyes from earlier looking at you. Annoyingly unfazed yet again. Chris.
“Puckerup Chrissy” one of his friends laughed shoving at him
Your body froze as he actually began to move forward towards you. He was close enough you could smell the exhilarating sent of his cologne. Your breath hitched as you realized maybe there was a part of you excited for this kiss.
“let’s just get this over with, yeah?” Chris said before leaning in and giving you a heartless peck on the lips. Your heart sank and you felt a flick of shame and rage heat the back of your neck.
This was only made worse when a few turns further in the game chris landed on a different girl and you watched in horror as they sloppily kissed far longer than a first land in the game was supposed to call for. As he pulled away from her you could’ve sworn you caught him look at you for a reaction. A desire to get back at him bubbled inside of you. When your next turn came you spun the bottle as hard as you could, trying to ignore the jittering mix of nerves and anger in your body. slowing slowing slowing…..stopped. You looked. on the other end of the bottle was Nate. Chris’s best friend. Bingo. The spin the bottle gods had been on your side.
Nate gave you a small smile as you two met in the middle of the circle. You leaned in for a heated kiss which was met by nate eagerly pushing into the early stages of a make out. A series of “oooooo”s let out across the room at your display. You pulled away and were pleasantly surprised to see a disgusted glance from chris. he slammed the rest of his drink and attempted to look distracted.
the rest of the game was taking far too long for your liking as people started having repeats which lead to make out sessions. but you knew the worst would be when the 7 minutes of heaven rounds started for the poor unfortunate suckers who got stuck with the same person 3 times. Your third turn came and you gave the bottle a pathetically weak spin…probably a result of your beverage. it gave a half-assed scooch.
“NO WAY” you heard madi chuckle and to your horror you saw it was Chris…again. But this time there’d be no escaping it with a peck. You’d be counted down for 10 seconds to make out. 10 whole seconds. you’d rather die.
“Cmon Chris don’t mail it in this time pussy” you heard his friend taunt.
If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve said he looked almost nervous as he approached you again. This gave you a strange sense of confidence and you wanted to embarrass him some more. You leaned in and gave him a passionate kiss. Charged by the rage and disgust for him and desire to prove him wrong…or so you told yourself…you felt him freeze on the other side of your lips as the group chanted “SIX FIVE FOUR” but in those last four seconds something shifted. Suddenly his lips relaxed and molded against yours. You felt a him take a small inhale before diving back in with force against your mouth. for a moment you forgot this was ever a game. The two of you pulled apart from one another and you scurried back and started at your shoes in a desperate attempt to avoid any eye contact with chris after that. What was that. Something had felt like it was on fire during that kiss. It felt hungry and desperate. Not like a drunk make out or any stupid game. Mulling over what had happened you lost track of the game until you heard someone say “ok chris your go”
your head shot up. chris’s eyes were on you as he reached for the bottle. you watched as he gave it an oddly light spin. it landed on you.
the room was met with a deafening amount of “whoops” and cheers at the first 3rd land.
the first 7 minutes in heaven land. you thought you would throw up on the spot as your entire body froze.
“Into the closet you two” one of the girls said as she rushed over to open up a door to a dusty looking pocket of a room across the basement. you watched chris stand up and casually saunter over towards the storage space. Hands on your back shoved you forward…probably madi. swallowing, you forced yourself to move your legs hesitantly.
“what’re you afraid i’ll bite you? just fuckin get in” Chris said irritability, causally leaning back with his arms folded in the closet. You headed to the opened door.
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HERES THE LINK TO PART 2 :
148 notes · View notes
icannot3 · 8 months
Text
"Prom Night"
Peter Maximoff x Reader
Word count: 4.2k (a biggie, sorry)
Warnings/notes: NSFW BELOW THE CUT (just the standard stuff, yk?) P in V penetration. Oral (male receiving). Lots of plot before. Despite the title, both Peter and the reader are adults.
Taglist: @taintandviolent @lilthbunny (comment if you'd like to be added!)
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..........
The music is loud, and the atmosphere radiates unadulterated exultation. Like any other traditional party event, bright neon lights illuminate the otherwise dimmed area. The dining hall of the institution looked nothing like it had before. The entire area had been cleared out besides the tables full of delectable treats to snack on in the corner. Students were laughing and dancing to the beat of the music, most very uncoordinated, but that didn't matter. For the first time ever, the young mutants got the chance to feel like normal teenagers. It brought you so much joy to know that it was your idea to have an annual prom at the school, this being the very first and very successful attempt at doing so.
You could see a few students of yours beginning to come out of their shells. Many of them never got the chance to participate in such a social setting. You can tell they felt moderately awkward at the start but slowly allowed themselves to enjoy. This prom was much different than the ones you attended in high school. You always remember them to be boring but customary, hence why everyone still went for the hell of it. Part of you wished you could have had a lively experience like this one, knowing all too well how different you felt in the crowd then, as a secret mutant scared of what others may do if they knew.
But that's all in the past, and truly you could not be happier as chaperone. In the crowd of people, you see bodies being pushed to the side as an undetectable figure zipps past them. You know it's Peter, one, because obviously his powers, and two, because the blur is quickly making its way to the snack bar. Who else would be so desperate to get to them? You giggle at his determined feat. It isn't long before he runs up to you, a plate with a large, overstacked assortment of cake and cookies in hand.
Peter places his free hand on your back, his hand warm against it. "Geez, you look like a supermodel!" Like any school dance, everyone was expected to dress to the nines. All funded by the Professor through the kindness of his very rich heart. The staff is expected to wear nothing short of this, everyone in expensive formal gowns to match the children. Peter's outfit makes him look exceptionally handsome, even though he's already loosened his silver tie sloppily from around his neck. Other than that, his suit is black with a white undershirt that compliments his silver accents. To be real, the color is his trademark. Quite literally, "Quicksilver."
You pull him into a hug he reciprocates as much as he can with only one arm. "Thanks, Quicky. You clean up nicely, too!" Your finger comes below his tie, playfully flicking it upwards to tease him. "You seem like you're already excited for the after party?"
His head jerks back, and Peter lets out a dramatic sigh. "You have no idea how uncomfortable these feel. Sure, women have to wear heels, but I really think that this is the equal evil we should also acknowledge. Plus, you guys get to shamelessly take them off at the dance because everyone understands. Xavier is absolutely insane for wearing this every day." He continues to passionately ramble about the inconvenience, referring to it as "neck prison." You cackle at everything he says because it's Peter. He's naturally always funny. Or perhaps it's your blossoming feelings for him that make you feel this way.
Sometimes, you wonder if Peter is just naturally a touchy person or if there's something more behind his lingering nudges and holds. You certainly entertain it regardless, allowing him to hug and hold you as he pleases. His fingers are delicately playing with the stray hairs against your neck, and it sends a shiver down your spine. He has to know how crazy he drives you.
The timing feels perfect as a slow song comes on through the loud speakers. You silently prayed to whatever DJ God there may be for giving such a great opportunity. You hold his hand in yours, his plate being disregarded elsewhere as you take him to the dancefloor. "You gotta dance with me, I never got to do this with anyone in high school! Please?" Your request accidentally seems more like a demand with your excitement, but he knows you'd never make him do anything he doesn't want. He grins, keeping your hand in his own and wrapping his arm around your waist before swaying to the music.
You're friends. That's all. There's nothing more to it, and there never will be. You conclude that you'd simply have to die with these feelings because certainly they aren't ever going away. It's been years already that you've pined for him. Years that the two of you have been stuck by some imaginary friendship glue. Many of your days are together, you teach gym class with him. When you go on missions, Peter compliments your mutations so well that it's rare you're ever separated. He's what you would call your platonic soul mate.
But that platonic bit feels really out of place when he gives you a look that makes your heart ache. You decide that looking at his eyes that are staring deeply into your own is not helping subside your confidential feelings. Part of you wants to read more into his actions and convince yourself that he feels the same way, but you know that only leads to a shit-ton of misery once you realize that his feelings are still unrequited. So, instead, you rest your forehead against his chest and think about things that don't make you flustered. Like what you're doing tomorrow for training and not how his new cologne for the occasion smells stupidly nice.
The song picks up the beat for the chorus, and either Peter secretly takes dance classes on the low, or he's just naturally this smooth. His hand lifts yours up in the air as he encourages you to twirl. You do, the dress you wear swaying around with your spinning. He brings you back to his chest and then decides to continue to baffle you by dipping you to the floor. You lean back, trusting him fully as he pulls you back up.
By the time the song is over, the two of you are laughing, and you feel as if you can't breathe. "Didn't know you had that in you, Maxipad." The nickname is from an inside joke that you remind him of because it embarrasses him. You used it in hopes that it would make your own pitifully flustered state less noticeable.
"Please, all of those arcades I played Dance Evolution at growing up had me ready." He made his way back to his snack stash, grabbing a cookie. "Even though I was more of a Pin-ball guy. I still have record scores at the arcade in the town I grew up in."
You steal a cookie off of his plate, the bitter-sweet chocolate delight melting on your tastebuds. "You still need to show me what an arcade is like. Maybe we could hit that one." Previously, you had a conversation where you revealed that you've never been to an arcade in the past, which left Peter deeply offended. He vowed to take you to one soon, but the two of you as of lately had found yourselves so busy there was simply never a time.
"Damnit! You're right." His expression of distraught quickly changed to that of a happy one with an idea. "There's an arcade machine in my room I can introduce you to! I mean, it's nowhere near as fun as the entire arcade experience, but-"
"- That sounds perfect, Peter." You didn't even have to be convinced.
You stayed at the dance until it ended for another hour, and Peter seemed to be rather eager to get back, considering the cleaning was going to be a group effort with all of the teachers; but he took the initiative to do it all himself instead of waiting and finished it all within a minute. Not that anyone was complaining, though. It was well past midnight, and class would still be resumed tomorrow at the normal crack-ass of dawn. Any sane person would pass up Peter's offer and reschedule for another time. But not you, you were so unimaginably happy to get invited to his room that the offer still remained as good as gold.
He sped you to his room, and it was everything you expected. For a man almost in his thirties, his decor resembles that of a teenage boy. This ranges from posters, snacks, and scattered piles of clothes on the floor. You can sense his immediate panic due to him not preparing for your presence. Frantically, he zips through his room, and a moment later, it's spotless. You laugh at this. "You know you don't have to do that for me. Mine is probably way worse."
You saunter over to the large arcade machine in the corner, touching the plastic buttons. "Did you buy this thing?" It's clearly a very expensive piece of equipment, gathering by its newer looking condition. Peter comes up behind you, chuckling to himself. "Nah, bro." His response made you certain that he'd stolen it, likely in his youth when he was a bit more scandalous.
Turning around to face him, you notice he's rather close. As much as he was earlier, except clearly not for the reason of dancing. You can't help but remember how low his hand was against your back. If he'd moved it even an inch further, he would have been touching you much more sensually. You wouldn't mind if he had.
As a matter of fact, you gathered that it's strange he'd invite you up so late. Yes, it's Peter, and he's never been the predictable type. But never in the years that you've known him has he invited you to spend quality time together at one in the morning, in his bedroom.
Once again, you shake yourself out of your lingering thoughts, ashamed. You're so ridiculously horny that it's embarrassing. He remains where he stood, playing with the strap of your dress.
"That's gotta be uncomfortable. Do you want something else to put on?" His thumb grazes over the red mark where the strap had been rubbing against your shoulder. Before you can even answer the question, he's searching through his dresser. He pulls out a Led Zeppelin t-shirt and sweats. Not wanting to be rude, you take the clothes and step in his personal bathroom for privacy. Looking in the mirror gave you a small boost of confidence. Your makeup looks still wonderfully intact, and the dress you picked hugs your curves beautifully. It makes you feel so elegant that you almost feel sad to take it off.
But you can't. When your fingers give the zipper on your back a hard tug after many other failed attempts, you begin to panic. The fabric must be seriously jammed for this to happen. You've never had this much of a struggle taking off an article of clothing. For over ten minutes, you desperately try, breaking a sweat as you do so. That sadness from earlier changes to desperation as you try to then pull the dress over your head. You are unable to do this. It's too tight and won't even come over your shoulders.
Peter must have started to grow concerned with your absence. Hearing a knock on the door makes you jump. His voice from the other side is quiet. "You alright in there, bud?"
Your hands cover your face in embarrassment. You feel like you want to scream. It takes you a moment to awnser, fighting yourself on what to do next. There's a small window in the bathroom you think is large enough to jump out of, but considering your mutation is not flight and the fact that you're on the second floor makes you decide against it.
Finally, deciding to fess up, you stand at the door, opening it. "I'm stuck. My zipper is stuck." Clearly having no issues himself, he is already in his own comfortable clothing. You can see his suit disregarded on the floor in the corner of the room, that godforsaken tie on top of the pile. You know you can trust Peter to help you. He's not a creep. Not anything besides the occasional childish sex joke.
Peter laughs, motioning for you to turn around. "Geez, it seems like you just want a reason for me to undress you." You turn your head back to give him an eye roll, but accept his help and lift your hair up to assist him. His hands are gentle as he fights with the zipper. He seems to struggle as well, fiddling with the fabric for quite a while before finally you feel the sweet release of the restrictive clasp coming undone. After hours, you can finally breathe.
He'd just undone the top, but his hands stayed in their spot. Tingles went down your spine as he continued to slowly bring the zipper down. It was getting low. When you put it on earlier, it went all the way down to your ass before it was zipped. Right before he gets to that point, you stop him with your hand. Turning around to face him, you awkwardly smile; his hand still behind you.
Ultimately, you had enough, placing your hand on his chest. You aren't brainless. That was definitely a signal. "Peter, did you really invite me up here to play games? If not, that's fine, but I'm kinda dying from anticipation right now. Sometimes, I feel like you're leading me on. But then you do things that make me think we're just friends, and it's really confusing. And I have no problem with just being friends, but it's the middle of the night, and I'm standing in your bedroom half naked instead of playing Pong like we said we would and -"
He ends your rambling by pulling you close, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips. You deeply inhale, taking a moment to register what's going on before kissing back. It feels heavenly, like drifting down a lazy river that doesn't have any kids in it relaxing. Like, your brain is slowly going to mush and becoming more and more useless as you continue, but you're totally okay with becoming a human vegetable if that means you can just keep going. You wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the connection. He tightens his arms around your back before lifting you up off of the ground, slowly twirling you around in a circle while in the air. This makes you snicker against his lips, which he reciprocates. The happy moment makes your brain foggy with admiration.
"I'm an absolute loser for not doing this sooner." Peter lays you down on the bed, joining beside you. Your legs hang off of the edge of the furniture. "I really, really like you. I have for a while. When we decided to have a prom I wanted to ask you to go with me so bad and be all cheesy about it, but I pussied out so I decided that the next best option was to get Jean and Raven to teach me how to dance so that we could." His words are being sputtered out like rapid-fire. "Please tell me I'm not finally saying this too late, and you haven't met someone else?" His voice is soft, laced with hints of doubt. He brings his fingers up to your hair, brushing it off of your cheek and behind your ear.
Your discomposure becomes all the more obvious as you pick at your nails, fiddling with your hands anxiously. This entire moment is more than you could even fathom in the past, like a fairy-tale coming to life. He likes you. He has liked you! Every pent-up feeling you've ever had for years has been reciprocated. "Peter -." You pause, trying to think on what to say. "You have no idea how happy that makes me. You wouldn't be late even if you had waited another few years to tell me that. I've liked you for a while."
Peter rolls himself on top of you, pressing multiple kisses to your face. He starts with your forehead, traveling his lips quickly down your nose, then rapidly on your cheeks. The affection feels pleasantly smothering. Finally, with one last final peck on the space between your brows, he connects himself to your lips once more. It's even better than the first time, giving you more of an electric sensation.
You grow heated, the sensation making you feel aroused. The kisses on your end grow more open-mouthed and inviting. When his tongue slips inside hungrily, you whimper, reveling in the feeling. This only encourages Peter more as he lifts his arm behind your back, making it arch while gliding his other hand down your torso. He groans delightfully, feeling your curves with fervor.
"Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?" His voice is deep with longing. His tongue laps against the sensitive flush of your neck. He finds the spot that makes you gasp the loudest, sucking the area just enough to make a small mark of his presence. You definitely don't ever want him to stop. He continues to go lower, trailing down between your breasts. Peter pulls you up, sliding the already half-off dress down your shoulders. His face turns bright red as a gawks at the sight of your bare chest. His finger rolls over your soft bud as he feels it harden beneath it. Squeezing your soft mound, he plays with you for just a little longer before connecting his lips to yours. There's a certain gentle urgency in his touch that brings you to an otherworldly place. Nothing else matters in this moment besides his hand that's slowly coming up your thigh. You can feel yourself already slick with arousal as you squeeze your legs together for some kind of friction. Peter senses this, using his hand to spread you apart as much as he can with your still clothed bottom-half.
He cups your center with his palm, rubbing over the area. His fingers curl inside of your folds, the ghost of a touch teasingly going over where you need him most. You mewl desperately for him, grinding into his hand. He grins against your neck, chuckling to himself. "So wet for me already? That's extremely hot. Have you ever gotten this worked up for me before, when you're all alone?"
He finally rubs slow circles against your clit, causing your eyes to screw shut with ecstacy. You can only bring yourself to nod as a response, finding yourself physically unable to speak in such a state. His hard-on is pressing against your leg. You can tell he's just as desperate as you are. Taking your hand, you press it against his chest to signal him to stop. His movements coming to an end leave you with a sense of longing as you get up, but quickly, you remove the rest of your dress and allow it to fall to the floor. Fervently, you slide down his pants and boxers. His cock springs to life after no longer being restricted by the confines. His tip is already leaking precum. The craziest thing about this entire ordeal is how natural it feels, but perhaps that's because of how often you find yourself imagining it.
Peter swallows, knowing where you're going with this as you wrap your hand around his shaft. You squeeze him lightly in your hand, testing the waters by giving a few slow pumps while watching his reactions. His face contorts in pleasure as he leans back on his elbows. He refuses to look away, fascinated by the sight of you. You experimentally lick from the bottom of his length to the tip, swirling your tongue around it. The taste is actually quite nice, faintly sweet. You suck his tip once more before finally bobbing your head down, taking as much of him as you can. It's only a little more than halfway before you can feel him against the back of your throat. You have to hold back gagging from the sensation. Peter lets out a deep groan, saying your name like it's his mantra. As you continue, his groans grow more needy. His hips instinctively thrust upwards, causing your eyes to water as he fucks your throat. A part of you grows embarrassed, knowing the tears in your eyes and swollen lips are not the greatest sight to see. But Peter trains his eyes on you, mesmerized.
He pulls you off of him, taking off his shirt before aligning himself with you. You look down and admire his toned muscles, stroking them curiously. It's wonderful. He feels and looks like one of those majestic Greek statues. Not the weird ones with small dicks and missing noses. Peter's cock teasingly rubs between your wet folds, brushing against your sensitive clit. You wrap your legs around his waist, urging him to go inside. He begins to push his tip in, slowly bottoming out. When he finally does, he gasps, squeezing your hips. The feeling is delectable as he stretches you out so perfectly. You can feel your walls fluttering around him. Nodding your head, you signal for him to continue.
His pace quickens fast, and Peter pulls one of your legs up as he thrusts to go deeper. His eyes are trained on your expression, trying to find the perfect spot to hit in order to fully satisfy you. When he achieves this, the upward curve of his dick rubbing an area that makes your eyes practically roll to the back of your skull, he drills you just like that into the mattress. You find yourself unable to hold back the unholy noises you had no idea you could make. Pleasure overwhelming enough to make you mentally check out.
You begin feeling an all too familiar intense fondness in your abdomen. It's like a tital wave threatening to spill over. You grab Peter's shoulders, pulling him close. He peppers kisses along your collarbone, thrusts getting more uncoordinated and sloppy. He's getting close too, you can tell by his labored breathing and moans that are growing slightly more high-pitched and frequent. His hand reaches down, buzzing against your throbbing bud to finish you off. Your eyes shoot wide open, not expecting that suprise. Sure, you've seen him use this technique in the past to break glass, but never had you imagined that he could do this. He pumps once more deeply inside of you, sending you over the edge. Blinding pleasure explodes throughout your body, sending you into an oblivion. Peter pulls himself out, cumming on the soft skin of your stomach and letting out a guttural moan.
He collapses on top of you, nuzzling his head in the crook of your shoulder. Sweetly, his hand runs through your hair, a string of unintelligible compliments being whispered in your ear. "You're so perfect, baby. Never, never, never ever letting you go. Never. Don't ever leave me." Those are a few of the many you manage to make out. You tightly embrace him, allowing yourself to relax against him.
You feel a sudden shift, and in the blink of an eye you find yourself wearing the clothes he gave you earlier, all cleaned up. He is instantly laying beside you again, fully dressed, with a blanket covering the two of you. He pulls you against him as he lays on his back. Smiling, you trace small circles onto his chest. "We should do that more often, huh?"
He nods excitedly, pulling you in tightly. "Oh hell yeah, we've got years of being deprived we gotta make up for."
291 notes · View notes
l4ysinterlude · 11 months
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request: “Hmm… Hashira! reader who is normally shy gets drunk and flirts with a white hatted stranger. they don’t know he’s the demon king, & muzan humors them. turns out drunk reader is very charismatic and entertaining, ended up making out with muzan for a while. like, a hour. when the big battle happens, they encounter muzan and reader remembers everything, feeling their lips to still feel muzan’s on them. shy hashira reader is red faced and stuttering lol”
AN: heya, very sorry for the long delay of this ask. i’ve been extremely busy for the past 2 weeks but i’m gonna take some time off to complete this. as an apology for my absence, i decided to take it upon myself to make this a 2 PART story (this might be counted as a series). i will also like to add that, i kinda exaggerated his outfit he was wearing because like.. it was thoughts running throughout my head. so just a heads up, i’m a little descriptive of his outfit. and MAYYYY… have gotten carried away on this one. so i apologize in advance 🙏🏾.
request by @cursetopia
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𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐍 - pt. 1
pt. 1 | pt. 2
muzan x hashira! reader
warnings/notes: 16+ blog, semi-nsfw, suggestive content, dancing/clubbing (yk, they might be all touchy-feely or wtv), grinding, making out, modern(ish?) au mixed with the present (if that makes sense).
synopsis: you are a shy hashira who has took the time to cut loose, enjoy yourself; until you encounter a man in a white hat. things turn very intimate until a few days later, you encounter him again. not expecting he was the enemy… the enemy who the DSC hates the most.
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you were feeling very bold tonight. you don’t know what it was, but your shy nature wasn’t there anymore when you were out on the dance floor, letting loose and releasing your inner freak. you order a couple of drinks and got yourself to the point you forgot where you was. enjoying yourself to the fullest; ignoring the people that surrounded you.
but you senses started to somewhat sneak in, feeling a presence coming straight towards you. you got a good look at him even if your vision relatively blurry. he was wearing a black/sliver vest, a white-long sleeved dress shirt, and some black dress pants and sliver loafers. he’s kinda over-dressed for this type of environment but you didn’t even seem to care. he lifts up the white hat that was covering his face, revealing his beautiful crimson but vibrant eyes.
the way his eyes shined within the dim lights in the room everyone was in, was breathtaking. he was undeniably attractive and you were too stunned to speak, even though you weren’t even sober. the music that was playing shifted into a more intimate vibe. so people are about to to get real touchy.
you started to sway your hips to the beat and eventually making your way towards him; wrapping your arms around his neck, closing the gap between you two.
he chuckled and admired how bold you’ve been, ever since you saw him. he puts his hands on each side of your hips, moving to the rhythm.
“i’ve never seen somebody so overdressed in this type of establishment…” you smirked. he laughs to himself, not denying the fact that; it is true.
“well, i like to stand out from the crowd. not dressing the way others do it, nowadays,” he replied, still helping to swaying your hips. you nod at his response and took it in as you go.
“what’s your name?” he asked curiously.
“y/n.”
“nice to meet you, y/n. the names muzan.” he smiled.
“well muzan, all this staring is making me uncomfortable. wanna go somewhere private?” you asked.
he nods as you lead him to some dark corner, away from the people entering the club. as soon as your back hits the wall, your lips crashed onto his. he wraps his arms around your waist, deepening the kiss and licking your bottom lip to be let inside your mouth.
you gladly allowed him to do so and moan in his mouth. you felt a knee go against your crotch. you let out a gasp, letting more arousal build up between you both. he notices and takes the lead by moving his knee and listening to your moans come out from your throat.
you both continue to make love in the corner until the night was over.
-
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AN: welp, that’s the end of part 1; i really hope you all enjoyed. i’m trying to experiment with newer writing styles and see what i like best. stay tuned for part 2 (coming soon)! also, be sure to like & reblog. it motivates me to continue to create content! you don’t have to, just a suggestion <3.
© Please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, edit, or repost any of my works on any third-party websites or apps (ex. Wattpad, Ao3).
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568 notes · View notes
restinslices · 27 days
Note
Silly little request but how do you think LKB would dress like casually? Like once every blue moon they have a day off and ding need to wear their uniforms? Can you do this in bullet points?
Them not in their uniforms is such a normal concept but it seems so weird for them if you know what I mean. Like, wdym they don’t wear those outfits to sleep? Also this is probably shorter than other posts because it’s about outfits, yk?
Bi-Han
Black. Moving on-
On some real shit though, I feel like this man’s entire wardrobe is in greyscale 
Someone’s like “hey there’s this event coming up! Can you wear a blue shirt?”
You’d think he’d have blue but nope. Nothing but blacks and greys and maybe a white in there 
I saw a post of biker Bi-Han and I definitely see it now 
Idk if the pictures imma attach at the end are really biker tho so that’s why I’m saying mainly blacks 
Like Elsa, the cold doesn’t bother him anyway so jackets aren’t really a thing he has to wear. He kinda just does because it makes the outfit look better 
That’s all the brain power he puts into it though because this man doesn’t care about his wardrobe at all 
He cares enough to not look sloppy but he doesn’t care about piecing shit together or brands and designer. If you look closely you can see he’s wearing the same shirt he was wearing yesterday 
He wears black because he’s still thinking like an assassin. The whole “I shouldn’t be noticeable” thing 
Which is wild when you think about how he’s definitely noticeable in that blue outfit but idk
He also wears black because… he doesn’t know 
He checked his closet and realized that shit looked like a black void but refuses to actually wear more color 
I don’t see him accessorizing much either. He only carries stuff he can fit in his pockets 
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Kuai Liang
Lazy 
Bi-Han adds a jacket for a bit of razzle dazzle but Kuai Liang doesn’t 
In all fairness, he gets hot easily (this is stereotypical but idc) so a jacket isn’t gonna work 
He wears the most basic t shirts and pants 
Like he legit got the same white shirt 50 times 
The shit is despicable 
I don’t think he adds many accessories either. He probably doesn’t carry much on him 
Long sleeves never really happen either 
Honestly I don’t think of any them dress with any special aesthetic in mind
But him? Extra lazy
I am being so serious when I say he buys the same clothes over and over again. He forgets he has a white t shirt in his closet so he buys another and the cycle repeats 
Probably doesn’t care as much because what are the chances he’ll be out of uniform?
You know how people say men's outfits are so boring? He’s the main example they use because there’s no personality with his shit 
I don’t see him doing much on his off days though so that’s probably why he just throws something on
He’s just getting dressed to go grocery shopping 
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Tomas Vrbada 
The one with the most style 
Which isn’t saying a lot 
Wears multiple layers 
Why do I think this way? Idk. But if I said they all dress the same, it’d be boring so here we are
He probably has a normal type of body heat since he’s not a pyromancer or cryomancer so he’s wearing hoodies and jackets because he’s genuinely cold 
He accidentally has style 
Wearing a hoodie and jacket is stylish to people for whatever reason. He doesn’t get it but he’s like “yeah, I definitely have fashion sense. It’s definitely not because I’m cold all the time. That just doesn’t sound like me”
May accessorize a bit but not as much 
As a whole I think accessories can become heavy and get in the way and our boys gotta be ready to bust a move if something pops off. Just because they’re off duty doesn’t mean they’re not paying attention or in danger 
So that’s why our boys travel light 
He has those smoke bombs and shit so he might have a little pouch with him but I don’t think he’d carry a backpack. Goes back to being too heavy 
If something can’t fit in a pouch, it’s staying home 
Dresses in neutral colors. I don’t think any of them are necessarily into bright colors 
Doesn’t have the same exact clothes but wears them the same exact way. His outfits look like a skin variation 
He’s doing his best 
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Remember all I do for you because imagining them in normal clothes fucked me up more than I’d like to admit
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kaciidubs · 7 months
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Yk what i love? Spooky season binnie and his endless supply of couples costumes or yk not really costumes just shit from yalls roleplay closet. Like his cop costumes but the shirts too tight and the buttons bust on it everything he flexes :( or his cute little sailor boy outfit but the shorts are so snug on him :(
He can't help how good his cock looks in those little white shorts, and he cant say no to you riding his fat cock in the bathroom of the halloween party
you’re gonna be the DEATH OF MEEEEEEEEE
Aye Aye, Captain!
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❣ Summary: Dressing up as a pirate captain and her very muscly sailor, what's the worst that could happen? ❣  ❣ Word Count: 603 ❣ Warnings: Slight Dom! Reader, Changbin is a tease, Halloween costumes that aren't really Halloween costumes, light smut, riding, open ended ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags:  Jisung is definitely the member who hosts the Halloween parties, convince me otherwise, Changbin is referred to as Baby and Binnie, he uses the word "captain" almost too ironically, consider this my first step into spooky season fics ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist
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The music booming outside of the bathroom was just loud enough to mask your wanton moans as you bounced along Changbin’s cock; your black spandex shorts and panties in a pool around your foot while his own shorts lay forgotten behind him.
You knew this would happen; the minute Changbin suggested saving on costumes this year and using your captain and sailor costumes for Jisung’s annual “Super Spooky” Halloween party, you knew he was up to something.
It wasn’t for the fact that his navy blue and white striped shirt made his pecs look like they would tear the cheap fabric in two, or the fact that those matching white shorts made his thighs look even more delectable than they already do. 
No, it was the fact that they were roleplay costumes, which meant they left nearly nothing to the imagination - your breasts exactly two wrong moves from spilling from the white ruffled blouse, meanwhile the imprint of his cock was extremely noticeable if you stared long enough.
Luckily, everyone was fairly tipsy by the time you both arrived, and the drinks continued to flow until Changbin pulled you aside with the excuse of getting another drink together - though, the hand resting at your lower back said everything but quenching his thirst with drinks.
“Y’know what this outfit reminds me of?” He murmured against the shell of your ear, holding you so that your back was against his solid chest, “The last time you wore it, when you were riding me for being your best sailor.”
A shiver ran down your spine, and you weren’t naive to the hard mass pressed against your ass through the high-low rise of your blouse - if you shifted just right, you could get the skirt to lift just enough to feel the print against your safety shorts.
“Yeah?” A dismissive hum vibrated in your throat as you leaned into his body, your own body buzzing from the drinks you had already. “Maybe we should make a new memory in it, then, sailor.”
His grip on your waist tightened, teeth nipping dangerously at your earlobe, “Aye aye, captain.”
-
“F-Fuck, Binnie!” You panted as you fucked yourself back onto his cock, hands gripping the countertop of the bathroom’s sink, moving like a woman possessed - wild and unwavering.
Changbin grunted out a response, his stance locked in place as his hands gripped your hips for leverage, the jiggle of your ass completely enrapturing him in the moment.
The sloppy, all too wet sounds of your cunt is more music to his ears than the one playing over the speakers in the living room - the faint sight of his dick glistening in your arousal disappearing past the curve of your ass has him almost certain he’s in a dream.
A high pitched keen escaped you when his dick brushed against your sweet spot, back arching as much as it could in the bent over position you were somehow maintaining, “Baby, baby, just fuck me already, come on!”
His parted lips curve into a smirk as his hands slide to the swell of your ass, gently grabbing your cheeks to grant him more access to the sinful view of his girth stretching your sopping hole. “I thought this was supposed to be a reward for me, captain.”
Abruptly stopping the rocking of your hips, you look over your shoulder to throw him a heated glare, eyes burning with lust and want as you grit, “Fuck me - captain’s orders, sailor.”
Meeting your glare with an all too cocky gaze, he winks back with an untimely charm only he can possess.
“Aye aye, captain.”
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❣ One of these days I'll give Changbin his climax scene, I promise ❣
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da-shrimping-station · 2 months
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another follow up to WIP wednesday because i CANNOT contain this in my drafts/queue also a short ramble on his design
IT'S HIM
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HE HAS ME IN A CHOKEHOLD simping aside can i really lmao
i love his design! man wears a very simple all black outfit that you can definitely pull off and it makes his other features pop! the red and white angel decorations absolutely stand out and so does his hair
him wearing a simple (and imo plain-ish) outfit makes the viewer's eyes immediately go to his face and scars and the bloody wing it also makes sense form a practical perspective. stains rarely show on black fabric! not that i think he minds stains,,,or yk,,,he can see them
anyway fuck me his horns are a bitch to draw but i already dug my grave by simping him so,,,, :DD
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cillianmesoftlyyy · 5 months
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The Experiment Pt. 2 | Jonathan Crane x Reader
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Summary| Jonathan Crane assigns his students a new experimental project: choose a phobia and research methods for coping with or completely overcoming those fears in test subjects. A student approaches Dr. Crane with an interesting project proposition... can he help her overcome her fear?
Warnings| Teacher x student relationship (both are consenting adults), Borderline sexual assault between a bf and gf, Erotophobia, Smutty stuff yk , Masturbation, P in V penetration, Teasing, Semi-public, Unprotected sex, Begging, Experiments. Extensive discussions of sex and intimacy.
"Oh My God"- Ida Maria 🎵
"Lazy Eye"- Silversun Pickups 🎶
"Romantic Lover" - Eyedress 🎵
Word count: 3386k
Minors do not interact!!
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He held office hours every day that he didn’t have a lecture. On Friday morning, Crane arrived early to his office and put on coffee which had become his daily routine. He had a book open on his desk and he licked his thumb to flip through the stiff textbook paper. 
It was an old Freudian psychoanalysis on erotophobia and he grimaced in distaste as he read through it. “Disappointing,” he whispered to himself and slammed the book shut. He thought he knew what his student was afraid of, it was simple to hypothesize when he could see how her eyes changed, reacting to everything he said… suggested. 
It wasn’t imagining sex or seeing sex or even touching herself, it was the expectation for sex that arose between two partners. It was something that she felt she had to do, that it wasn’t random or special, it was expected and something she felt responsible to do. That’s why she was scared of it. 
When he had suggested self-pleasure, the fear in her eyes had dissipated slightly, encouraging the possibility of vulnerability and desire. The experiment that his student wanted to conduct needed to be done slowly, paying attention to how and when her body reacts to the suggestion and actually introduction of intimacy. 
And like he expected, a fast knock on the door to his office signaled the arrival of Faye Greyson. He loosened his tie slightly and unbuttoned the two top buttons on his dress shirt, showing the neckline of his white cotton shirt beneath. Lastly, he took off his suit jacket and hung it disorderly on the back of his chair. He waited till she knocked again, more hesitant this time, before calling her in. 
“Come in!” He allowed his voice to sound hurried and distracted as she opened the door slowly and stepped inside, holding a short stack of papers. They still smelled like wet ink and Crane shivered despite himself, loving the smell of ink. 
“Ah, Miss Greyson. What can I do for you?” He cleared his throat dramatically and made a show of straightening his tie and slipping the buttons back into place. 
“I’m sorry, did I interrupt something?” She stood still by the door, watching him as Crane pulled his suit jacket back on and straightened his collar. 
“No, not at all. What’s this?” He gestured to the stack of papers and stayed standing on the other side of the desk. The girl, still glancing around, walked up to Crane’s desk and passed the papers over. The paper was warm and heavy in Crane’s hand as he clasped his fingers around the stack. 
“My first results.” The girl answered and sat down in the seat opposite of his. She crossed her legs and sat up straight, trying to calm her shaky nerves. Her professor read the title page and laughed softly. 
“The results from your masturbation experiments?” He clarified with a raised eyebrow and the girl nodded, blushing once again. She was wearing a brown corduroy dress and long socks with her black mary janes. She had picked the outfit intentionally, which piqued his interest. He returned his attention to the results, scanning his finger down the list of videos she had watched and comparing the results (did the video arouse her: why or why not). The results were all pitiful, that she felt turned on but not enough to touch herself or actually finish when she did. 
“These results are not very inspiring, Miss Greyson. Do you have anything else?” He handed the papers back with a disappointed scowl. 
“Well… yes.” The girl looked up at him timidly and forced herself to open her backpack and retrieve a manilla folder from one of the inside pockets. She hesitated before finally giving it up and allowed him to take it.
“These,” she started, “are the results from when the subject used her imagination.” She looked away and straightened the hem of her dress against her thigh. 
Crane opened the folder and raised his eyebrow once again at the data provided. The girl had written down her fantasies and provided the results when she acted on them. They were overwhelmingly better than the set before. He closed the data with a sigh and slid the folder back to her on the desk. He sat down in his chair and leaned forward, staring down at his student on the other side. She squirmed. 
“I want you to describe to me what your subject thought about.” He said finally. She started back, blinking slowly, and opened the manilla folder.
“You don’t need that Miss Greyson, do you?” He closed the folder again, their hands separated by the folder’s cover between them. 
“Tell me.” He said again, a harsher edge in his voice. 
“What were you doing in your office when I came in?” She asked instead. 
“What did you think I was doing?” He stared back, unmoving. He was hoping that she’d ask. 
“You were redressing yourself.” 
“Yes.”
“Why?” She asked again. 
“To see how’d you react, seeing someone caught in a state of… suggestive vulnerability.” He cocked his head. The girl didn’t respond, just anxiously wiped her palms across her thighs, blushing.  
“Ok! Now it’s my turn to ask a question.” He breathed in sharply, making the girl jump in her seat. He looked her up and down, briefly licking his lips. 
“Why are you wearing a dress?” He asked with a small smirk. 
“What?” She straightened the hem again, tugging it down her thighs. 
“I’ve only ever seen you in jeans and a turtleneck. This building is too cold for anything else, right? Not to mention it's 40 degrees outside.” He took off his glasses and cleaned them, exhaling on each panel of glass and wiping in slow, circular movements. “Mmmm and no tights, correct? Aren’t you cold?” 
“No.” She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. 
“Right.” He hummed again and put his glasses back on, watching her in silence. She tried to stare back, urging herself to appear braver than she felt, less vulnerable than she was. 
“Would you like me to tell you why you’re wearing a dress, Miss Greyson?” He clasped his hands together and rested them near the center of the desk, leaning forward. 
“Why?” She whispered, her brows furrowed and crinkled like an old gum wrapper. He smiled slightly, lopsidedly. 
“Because, Miss Greyson, after class yesterday you told yourself that we would have sex and to prepare yourself, you decided to wear a dress, an article of clothing that you assumed would provide easy access, no buttons, clasps, or skin tight material that made the process of undressing that much more awkward. You aren’t wearing tights for the same reason, they’re a hassle to take off even within the privacy of your own dorm room. You fear the actual act of sex so much that you need to prepare yourself for it like a test. It doesn’t seem like something that could be enjoyable when you put so much thought into it, does it?” 
Crane watched as her cheeks grew pink in color, the hue spreading across the clefs of her face, charging the power of her pulse. Her lips quivered slightly and he stopped. 
“Shall I go on?” He asked not unkindly but a hint of impatience evident in his tone. She nodded and looked away, quickly. 
“You feel desire, you desire things. So, what scares you is the act itself, the vulnerability of it, the intimacy and closeness that it entails. You’ve only tried a few methods so far in your experiment to dilute the fear you feel towards sex. There are more things to try, more ways to help. That’s why we’re not having sex, Miss Greyson.” Crane observed and took a deep breath, leaning back in his chair and crossed his arms across his chest. 
“Now,” he started again when he had the girl’s attention, “tell me what the subject imagined when she touched herself.” His voice was low and gruff as he spoke. The girl looked up once again and held his gaze, fawning over his beautiful eyes that scared her as much as they aroused her. 
“Do you remember?” He asked softly and smiled encouragingly (as much as could be expected from someone like Jonathan Crane) as she cleared her throat. 
“Yes.” She whispered and wiped her eyes. 
“Tell me.” He shifted in his seat and got comfortable as she brushed her hair behind her ear. 
“She- I… imagined myself, alone, in the lecture hall wandering through the aisles of elevated desks. As I walked, I could hear a second set of footsteps echoing alongside mine. The lecture hall was dark except for the one spotlight they always have on, pointed at the lecturer’s desk. The spotlight was bright white like a china plate, but felt… warm. I went down the steps and stepped up on the platform where the desk was and sat down on the desk, really slowly, feeling the cold wood surface on the backs of my thighs through my jeans. I leaned back, lying down flat on the desk with my knees bent in the air. In my hand, I was holding a handkerchief… and I raised it to my face like a veil and breathed through it, licked it, tasted it.” 
“Then turning to face the spotlight, I unbuttoned my pants and pulled them all the way off, dropping them on the floor of the lecture platform. I trailed my fingers up and down my breasts, hooking them on the ridges of my shirt as I did so, teasing it up but never off. With the handkerchief still tucked in my hand, I dipped my hand beneath the waistband of my underwear, snapping it against my skin and allowing my legs to shiver as if I was cold. Then I heard footsteps, slow ones, walking heavily on the ball of their feet. I turned my head to the side, my cheek resting on the desk as I looked. He came out of the darkness, his hands casually stuffed into his pockets. He looked interested, fascinated by why I was there on his desk, in his classroom. I sat up, propping myself up on my elbows. He walked over, stopping between my legs, a foot or two away from the desk and stared down at me.” 
“Who was he?” Crane asked calmly. 
She flicked her eyes up to his and smiled shyly. Her ears turned red and she bit her lip to keep from laughing in discomfort. 
“You, Professor.” 
He exhaled through his nose, trying to maintain his composure. He nodded curtly. 
“Continue. What did I do?” He leaned his head against his knuckle, swirling his thumb against the thin skin of his temple. 
“You smiled and laughed because you found me pitiful. What are you doing, Miss Greyson? And I told you that I was masturbating like you asked me to do. Good girl… don’t let me stop you. Please, go on. You stepped back and sat down in a chair in the front row to the side of the platform where I could see you when I tilted my head. As you watched, I slid my hand beneath my underwear again, grabbing myself, just wanting to feel how warm I was against my own hand. I shuttered and looked at you, you said nothing, just watched… intently. Then I started to rub myself against my fingers, moving my hips up and down. I squeezed my thighs around my hands and flexed my toes. I moved my hips faster and faster, finding the parts of myself that were warmer and wetter. You licked your lips and ran your fingers across your mouth, smiling as I sighed loudly. Don’t be quiet on my accord, Miss Greyson, you laughed and I opened my mouth, almost drooling as I watched you… watch me. My legs started to spasm against the pressure of my fingers rubbing harder and harder, coaxing feeble moans from between my lips, wet with my own spit.”
“Professor, I whispered, Oh God, Dr. Crane. I forced my eyes open to look at you. My back arched and I wanted you to touch me, Professor. Yes? You asked me, and leaned forward with your elbows on your knees. What do you want? You smiled sinisterly because you knew that I wanted you. Touch me. Please! I reached my hand out to you, holding the handkerchief like a white flag. You stood and walked over slowly, looking down the length of my body glowing in the white spotlight. This is my handkerchief, you took it from me and held it up to the light, tsk tsk tsk.” 
“I’m sorry, Professor. I whined and brushed my fingers against your suit coat, grabbing onto the edge. Hmmm, what? What is it? You asked distractedly, twisting the handkerchief between your hands. Touch me, Dr. Crane. I sighed and sat up, pulling my legs to me and turned to face you. You still wouldn’t look at me, so distracted were you by your handkerchief I had been holding against my skin.”
“Was I?” Dr. Crane raised his eyebrow and crossed his legs, feeling himself get hard as the girl spoke. 
“I sat on my knees on the desk and ran my hands up the inside of your suit jacket. Fuck me, Dr. Crane, I asked you and raised myself up on my knees to kiss your neck. You wrapped the handkerchief around my neck… like this.” 
The girl took the white handkerchief from the front pocket of her backpack and pulled it around her neck. Dr. Crane nodded slightly. 
“Go on.” He whispered.
“You chuckled and rubbed your nose against mine, teasing me with your lips. You wouldn’t kiss me so I licked your lips with my tongue, dragging it up to lick each lip. I wrapped my own hands around your neck and let my nails dig into the stiff tendons in your neck. Then you finally kissed me, biting my lips as you kissed them. You breathed heavily as you kissed me, sucking my tongue as I gasped softly into your ear. You shoved your hand under my shirt and cupped my breast so hard I squealed. You said I was pitiful and kissed me harder. Tell me what you want, you ordered and I whined in discomfort. I didn’t want to tell you what to do to me but you pulled away, refusing to kiss me until I told you. Fuck me. I said quietly and you shook your head. No, that’s not what you want, is it? You want to be kissed well, you want to be touched and you want to touch me, right? You whispered into my ear roughly. So tell me what you want to do.”
“I want you to masturbate me. I found myself saying and watched you smile slyly, a glint of something scary in your eyes. You twisted the handkerchief between the fingers on your left hand and drew my face closer to yours. You trailed your index finger down the dip of flesh between my breasts, down to the waistband of my underwear. Your fingers cupped around me and I instinctively raised myself up, pushing into the placement of your long, dry fingers. You shook your head at me and exhaled against my jaw, now what? I had already started moving my hips quicker, building up friction that felt so good. Rub your fingers against me, Dr. Crane. I tried to say evenly but my voice jumped as I whined, nearing some sort of climax. You did as I asked and rubbed your fingers roughly against the hood of my cunt inching towards my clit. The pressure was so much that I quivered and began to sit down again, trying to cut you off but you gripped the handkerchief around my neck tighter and pulled me up again. No, Miss Greyson. You can take it, you said cooley beside my ear. Take it. You ordered softly and changed the movement of your fingers, pulling pleasure up from the bottom of my vulva, panting just as hard as I was.”
“I gripped my hands into your shoulders and drooled on your collar, shaking with stimulation. Oh God, oh my God, Dr. Crane. I gasped and whined into your ear, almost licking the cologne off your neck. Good girl, good girl. You’re close, aren’t you? Are you going to come, Miss Greyson? You pressed harder, and pulled the handkerchief tighter around my neck. I couldn’t get away from the stimulation so my legs spasmed and jumped against you until I came. I nearly screamed so you held your hand with the handkerchief against my mouth. That’s it, you whispered and stilled, letting me ride out the last of my stimulation, moaning into your hand.” 
“And so you finished?” Dr. Crane asked calmly across the desk from the girl, her face flushed from remembering the scene. 
“Yes, sir.” The girl smiled and bit the inside of her cheek. “I finished against your hand as you waited patiently. I released my grip from your shoulder and felt for your erection through the crotch of your slacks.” 
“And was I erect?” Crane cleared his throat, clearly aware now that he was hard as he asked the girl. 
“Yes. I fumbled my hands around it, wanting it out. Alright, it's my turn now, Miss Greyson. You growled and removed your hand from my underwear and used it to push me back down on my back. Spread your legs, Miss Greyson. You ordered and unbuckled your pants quickly, they fell to your ankles along with your boxers. Then you tugged off my underwear which had grown cold and wet almost immediately. You’re already so wet, you’ll take me easily, won’t you? You rubbed your hand along your erection. Yes, sir, I panted. You grabbed my hips and pulled me towards you, hanging partly off the table and thrusted into me. I gasped and covered my mouth, reacting to the way you fucked me like you were desperate. Fuck… fuck… you’re so tight. You gasped as you thrusted into me and I wrapped my legs around you pulling you closer, making your thrusts harder and deeper. I squealed pathetically as you fucked me faster, your hands tight around my thigs. You’re so good, Miss Greyson. You’re going to make me cum. You moaned loudly and pushed feebly as your climax built up. You’re making me finish so fast, Miss Greyson. You’re such a good girl. Good girl. Take it, I’m almost there. You pounded against me, volatile in your desperation. FUCK, you yelled as you finished and pulled out, cumming into your hankerchief. You panted and pulled your pants back up, buckling your belt once again. I sat up, semen and little streaks of blood running down my thighs. You grabbed my jaw in your hand and kissed me. You let me suck against your lips, seeking comfort from the stimulation. Put on your pants, you pulled away from me and ran a hand through your hair.” 
“Did it feel good?” Dr. Crane asked seriously. 
The girl looked up at him and being unable to blush more than she had, nodded. 
“Yes, sir.” 
“Now, Miss Greyson, would it scare you if I asked you to come over to my apartment tomorrow night?” He removed his glasses and polished them, not looking at the girl. 
“Yes.” 
“But would you do it?” He asked and put the glasses back on his face, his eyes completely trained on his student. She blinked and licked her lips before opening her mouth to answer. 
“Yes.” 
“Good.” He waved her towards the door. “I have work to do, go now.” He spun in his chair to retrieve two textbooks beside his computer and dropped them on the desk in front of him. The girl stood and took her bag but stopped briefly before opening the door again to leave. She placed the handkerchief between the pages of the open textbook and smiled. 
“Thank you for letting me use it.” She turned and left without another word. The door slammed behind her and Crane fell back into his chair, immediately unbuckling his pants and taking out his erection, he masturbated into the handkerchief without another thought.
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End of part 2 :)
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mintaii · 3 months
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hiii i love your art it feels so edible to me and this might be a dumb question but i love your work so i wanted to ask someone who i looked up to: how do you know what you wanna make?? i want to make more art myself but usually all i know is “i wanna use these colors” or “i wanna try painting w this technique” but i don’t know what i wanna draw, if that makes sense. how do you pick an end goal, or even an idea?? how do you get ideas in the first place yk??? idk if you even have this issue. thank you for reading this!!
hi!! not a dumb question at all, don't worry!! and yeah. thinking of ideas sometimes is a PAIN but i'll try to answer this as best as i can...
i think u can look at it like there's 3 main starting points to jump off from: character, scenario, object(s).
with character, i usually figure out what i like about them or if there's a facet of their story that i want to portray. or maybe it's an emotion i associate them with. however, u can also pick out a specific design element u like about them and expand upon it. if the character's main color palette is black and white, why not try painting a portrait of them only using that limited color palette?
scenarios are where u can go 'i want to draw this interaction', 'i want to draw this outfit' or 'i like this specific scenario/setting, why don't i draw something in relation to it?' sometimes i work backwards from 'i want to draw them in this specific type of genre' and then think of a scenario would get the characters into that genre LOL
with objects, i kind of mean it super broadly so it includes like. the stars. pretty architecture. a microwave idk. but if there's something out there that u really like the design of, u can try to figure out what u want to do with it and combine it with a separate concept.
i.e, pretty vintage music box designs -> i could draw something from the nutcracker, since the combo gives off christmas vibes -> i could draw something also inspired by the phantom of the opera, since the musical featured a music box and the combo gives off a certain atmosphere that reflects the story as a whole. tasia.m.s on instagram does a series where she draws women in dresses that are inspired by inanimate (typically vintage) objects.
i unironically think using tarot cards– specifically the major arcana– as art prompts help with practicing idea generation for original art LOL
the names of the cards can range from abstract to very literal and each of them are tied to specific meanings and are chock-full of existing symbolism, which can assist with learning how to craft ideas in response to them
really hope this helps!! sorry it got kind of long...
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skyteller143 · 1 month
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TILL DEATH DO US PART (1) • C.STURNIOLO
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warnings: swearing, school😔💔
authors note: kinda shit but yk it gets better js stick around
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summary: the most popular girl in school being known as a goody-too-shoes and the captain of the schools hockey team end up sitting with each other in class, she hates him and he hates her. until one day everything changes.
but remember, not every story has a happy ending.
enjoyyy
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People wish to be popular. They wish for the crazy parties and all the “friends” that comes with it. But this makes me wonder do they wish for the secrets that are kept, do they wish for the bitchy glances that you get given simply because you walked past. do they wish for the eyes that are always on them.
But it’s clear that they don’t care about that. they care about the attention and so called fame that they desire so desperately they’d practically trade their soul for it.
it’s the first day back from summer break and i woke up at practically sunrise just to make sure that the stares aren’t as judgemental. doing my hair and makeup, picking out about 5 outfits before finding a good one. gosh sometimes i wish i could trade lives with someone who wasn’t a cheerleader and i could go to school wearing sweatpants, not worrying about being watched.
my outfit was a skimpy black skirt matched with a white crop top and a black puffy jacket. i straightened my hair and did my normal makeup.
since it was the first day back my schedule had changed meaning i was in all new classes. great.
when i got to school i met up with my best friend ivy and we caught up about what happened over the summer.
“yeah and then vacation boy asked for my snap” ivy rambled on “butttt i had to turn him down because he was like 25 but he was so fine” she giggled leaning on me a little as we stood at our lockers. Me and ivy had been friends since middle school we always had our lockers next to each other. well that was until this year.
“oh our lockers are one apart” ivy mumbled opening her locker. “huh” i looked down at the paper i had been given “oh”.
“bummer i wonder who is gonna be our locker buddy this year, maybe they could like be our new best friend!” she jumped excitedly. “yeah maybe” i laughed at her, she looked like a kid in a candy store. “ok we’ll i gotta get going meet me here at lunch” she walked backwards facing me for my reply. “yep! of course” i laughed.
i reached into my bag getting out a few books and pictures to put in my locker. when i was finished i headed to class. i sat in the back corner and put my headphones in. it’s too early for this. i made sure to sit by myself so i wouldn’t have to deal with some weirdo yapping my ear off for an hour and forty minutes. since it was the first lesson we were just meant to be meeting new people and interacting. however i already knew everyone in here so what’s the point?
about five minutes in everyone had stopped talking and the teacher was explaining what we would be doing this year when the door swung open and some boy walked in. i honestly couldn’t care less who he was so i continued jotting down notes when he sat down. next to me. i looked up to see who it was and rolled my eyes. of course the captain of the hockey team decided ‘oh yeah let’s sit right next to the only cheerleader in the room, she’ll love that.’
he huffed as he leant in his seat, crossing his arms. i looked at him to see he looked pissed off and i noticed that every other seat was full. oh.
i turned my music up and just kept to myself when he taps my shoulder. “what you listening to?” he asks. “music” i reply dryly hoping he’d just leave me alone. “no wayyy” he smirks “let me listen” he puts his hand out as if i’m a dog.
“first off, no. second off why would i share with you i don’t even know you” i rolled my eyes. “oh princess everyone knows me and you definitely do being cheer captain and all” he smirks at me. “oh yeah Chris i’m in love with you here have my airpod” i say sarcastically “oh come on just give it” he begs like a child, “i know you secretly love me” he laughs. “the only thing i know is that your ego is bigger then you dick baby” i pout at him and out my airpod back in. that shut him up.
after class i went back to my locker to meet ivy and i see that our new locker buddy is there. “hey” i call out to see who it was. “what do you want” they reply.
you’ve gotta be kidding me.
“why are you just standing there looking like an idiot, did you want something?” he asked clearly still annoyed about earlier. “no i was going to my locker” i mumble.
after about like 30 seconds of silence i speak up. “soo, this your locker?” what a stupid question.
“noo, i’m just putting my stuff in here for someone else” he reply’s sarcastically.
“jeez don’t get your titties in a twist, was just asking” i laugh slightly trying to ease some tension.
he slams his locker door and leans down so he’s closer to my face. “at least i have some” he smiles and walks away.
cunt.
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feisty
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taglist (if you wanna be added js comment and i’ll add you): @lacysturniolo @breeloveschris
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judgementdaysunshine · 8 months
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since ur writing for solooo yk I gonna send a request! Can you write a solo sikoa x autistic reader where she can't find an outfit that feels right 🩷🩷
Aaaah
The hoodie
Pairing: Solo Sikoa x Fem autistic reader
Description: You can't find an outfit that is comfortable until you find one that feels just right
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You feel your eyes burn with tears of frustration as you search through your clothes not able to find a comfortable outfit. You at first decided to wear jeans and a green shirt but the jeans squeezed your hips and the shirt made you itchy, next was a red shirt and white shorts but both kept irritating your body as you moved, finally by the time you put on the purple matching shirt and pants you couldn't handle it anymore giving up and putting your pajamas back on, you start doing laundry until you see your favorite yellow shirt, stretchable light pink shorts, and a big black hoodie that belonged to your boyfriend Solo who was in the shower upstairs not knowing that he had wore the hoodie earlier and placed it in the washer not knowing he mixed in with the load you were doing. You go back to the bedroom and change into them, immediately feeling relaxed, able to breathe, able to move freely, calm, and comfortable in all three as you sit on the couch waiting for solo as you watch tv until you hear "Baby have you seen my hoodie?" you hear him as he describes which one it is thinking maybe he was looking for his white or gray hoodie but you blush as walks around only to see you wearing said hoodie he had described and was looking for smiling as he pulls you into his lap gently rubbing your back with his hands "Couldn't find anything comfy?" you hum a small no as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and lay on the couch before leaving to go to his dad's house to spend time with his family as was the tradition between them and you became a part of when you got together seeing his dad smile sweetly at you in the oversized hoodie when you got cold.
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