Discombobulated

WELCOME BACK,

TO THE OUTLAST TRIALS

The moment he was out of earshot, you poked your head out of your hiding spot. "Oh yeah,

I can tell it's heavy by the way he walks," you muttered.

In church

Rated: X

…

Franco was the very picture of a dapper boy. All dressed up in his little suit, with small tufts of his hair slicked back and curled, he was the definition of class in this church. a boy who truly had manners.

That was until a yellow, frilly skirt caught his eye.

She was a vision. Surely, the most beautiful girl in the world with her round, soft cheeks, gentle smile, and a body like a cherub. She is God’s finest creation. He wasn't sure why his pulse was suddenly hammering in three different places, but he knew this girl was the cause of it. She must be an angel, he thought. Only angels have the power to make a man feel so weak.

With that thought, he marched over.

“What’s groovin’ baby, did you miss me?”

“You only went to the store, ain’t no missin’ you for long.“

“So you did.” You smile into your kiss. Coyle grumbled but gave in to your lips, kissing back harder. When you pulled apart you let out a breathy sigh. “I got you your favorite,” you whisper, “T-bone.”

You were flipped over the couch, scrunched like a small ball into his arms. His lips dove right for your ear, biting your loves and dragging his tongue along the inner shell. “Oh I missed you— I did, I did.” He confessed like a secret he’d get shame for in public, “Mmm, T-bone, mmm, baby,” he buried his face in your neck. He peppered it with kisses and marks that would stand out for the next few days. “You know how to make a man feel like he’s worth a million bucks.”

You giggle and twirl the end of his beard. “Why don’t you let me up so I can get started on it, hm?”

He took hold of your bottom lip pulling it back then let go with a loud wet pop. You dragged your tongue along the bruised skin. “That would be nice.” He sat you upright then shooed you off the couch,

“And you’re… actually getting off to this?”

A smirk tugged at your lips. It was silly. Watching a grown man degrade himself so completely, groveling on his knees, visibly hard just from licking the soles of your feet.

It tickled you.

“That tickles! Oh my god,” you laughed, shoving your free foot directly into his crotch. “You really are getting off to this!” He grunted, pressing himself harder against your bare sole. “Just try not to suck the polish off—I just got them done,” you warned dryly.

“Just a little more…”

You move your tongue to make way for her thick fingers. Her fingertips brush over your canines, slide past your molars, and plunge into the back of your throat. You choke, but her knuckle wedges between your teeth, keeping you from biting down. What It doesn’t stop is the sudden cough that stains her face with spit..

Her tongue darts out to swipe away any that might’ve landed on her lips.

You need to go to this dentist more often!

“Alright! Your teeth are all clean and healthy!”

She rewards you with a sloppy kiss, all tongue and teeth— slurping your tongue past her lips like she’s sucking on a lolli then

Nsfw/half-assed

Knock, knock, — Romance re-runs

“Don’t you ever wish we could do something more?”

“Like what?”

“Like exploring the world. Maybe even adopt a dog,” you suggest.

“Now you're talking nonsense.”

“Maybe. Maybe being cooped up in this house has made all my sense, nonsense.” You lean into the cushions, sighing as you arch your chest and cross your legs.

A pair of blues take in every dip as you get comfortable. A crooked smile displayed under his crooked nose. “Enough about nonsense,” his voice tried to coo but was engulfed with the thick smoke. “I say we get a kickback n’,” he snuggled up to you, eyes glued to your chest, “enjoy a show or sum’.” He suggested before rolling his eyes back up.

“A show?”

“Yeah, a show! Look,” he hovered the remote above you. “I’ll even let you pick this time.”

His cheeky smile told you he was being generous. More so than normal. You smiled and took the remote not wanting to wait around. “Oh Franco, we are going to watch the most perfect, most romantic sh—“

“Just pick one already.” He said, muffled in between your boobs.

You hummed and landed on a rerun of cheesy romcon you saw the other week. You shiver as you feel his warm tongue trailing up your ribs to your navel. Stopping every so often to give each of the twins their share of affection. You rub your legs together, biting your lip as the show's main character finds his wife doing the dishes.

‘We’ll look at you,’ the man smirked, coming up behind her and wrapping his burly arms around her waist. She giggled as she felt his pelvis slam into her. Not a subtle show one bit.

You felt a pair of rough fingers ease their way down your crotch. Lowering your skirt, sliding into your panties, getting them all wet and ready before brushing against your clit. You buck as you feel his fingers pinching it, rolling it between his middle and index finger. You wrap one of your legs around him as he climbs on top of you, pushing his body against yours like he wants to melt into your skin.

He takes the plunge.

Shoving his fingers in with no effort but it sets your clit ablaze. You can feel him poking around, looking for something while his well trimmed nails lightly scratch along your walls.

You cried as he took hold of your nipples between his teeth. Nibbling down as he let out hearty laughs.

You hate his laugh but you hate it even more when he takes pleasure in torturing you. It was addicting to hear. It made your lips throb around his digits. He went faster, feeling your pent up energy. You felt him smile into your chest while he sucked and kissed your throat, leaving your chest to rub against his.

When had he taken off his shirt? You weren’t sure but luckily it was enough friction to last until you heard the glorious sound of a zipper going down.

“You goin’ to fuck me, bambi?” You slurred , already high on erotica.

“Yeah,” he drawled. “I’m gonna fuck whatever’s left in dumb little head of yours, baby.” Smacks a wet one right on your eyelid.

Then he threw your legs over your head and aligned his cock, tip rubbing against your entrance, sliding all the way up to your clit to give it a little kiss. He chuckles as he reels back—

Knock knock

Everything went still besides the TV show.

Knock knock

“Oh my god,” he whispered, nails digging into your thighs.

“Aye Bambino!” A rugged voice called through the door. One of his papa’s lackies. “ You're wanted in the bay area. Boss’s demands. Don’t make us come by to tell you twice.”

You could see the small vein about the burst from his large forehead. He dropped his head into your chest, sighing deeply before rubbing your arms. “Gotta go. Boss’s orders.”

You nod your head.

He kissed your chest before kissing your lips.

“Come back soon,” you whispered. “We still have to get through the first season.”

He laughed in your face.

There has been a lot of wild things you’ve seen in this new town but none can compare to this sunny day..

“I’ve decided that out of the two of yew,” he said, his gaze drifting between you both before locking onto you. “Imma marry you.”

You batted your lashes, completely confused.

“She don’t want nothin’ to do with yew, Coyle,” your friend spat, slapping his hand away. “All you’ll do is treat her like the dirt under your hole-filled boots, and that ain’t no way to treat a girl!”

Franco: Don't like the view? Buy your own place.

You: Oh, stop. I just adore your father, I can't help but want to baby him from time to time.

B3: But does the living room have to be the designated feeding area?

Franco: What? You jealous?

Your heels, madam?

Franco hadn't spared a single glance at the lingerie, panties, or bras while you two browsed the district. His face was far too famous for a public mall, but these high-end, secret exclusive boutiques offered next-season fashion long before it hit the public. It was a luxury that always felt so thrilling to indulge in.

If only he seemed to care.

On your way out his once loose grip clamped around your wrist. You looked over to find him completely still, his eyes wider than normal. “Franco?” He bit his bottom lip. You raised an eyebrow and followed his gaze to a small shoe boutique near the exit. The neon sign buzzed in vibrant shades of pink and purple. “Trixie’s Treats,” you read out loud. That broke him out of his trance.

Franco dragged you toward the window. The boutique displayed every kind of footwear imaginable from sleek pumps to flats to tiger print flip-flops with matching ankle bracelets—

but their current showcase featured louboutins.

They were all so glossy, glittery, and sharp enough to pierce a persons eye out.

You spent nearly two hours inside. Franco insisted you try on every single pair of heels he could get his hands on, not worrying about the bill. He watched you pace, catwalk, and strut across the showroom floor, his eyes locked onto the movement of your feet.

It was exhausting but the weight of his undivided attention made you feel special again so you'd happily do a few spins and heel taps if he asked.

You went home with over 140 new pairs of heels ready to break in.

The primes: This trial is turnt! What happened to my panties?

A moment better not remembered

You stumble along the walkway, the world dissolving into a blur of blinding light that your veil fails to block out.

Your head feels fuzzy, as if filled with stuffing, forcing your gaze anywhere but forward but you walked, the red carpet being only thing keeping you in a straight line. Then come the steps.

Why are you going upstairs again?