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aeyumicore · 10 months ago

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between the blades of grass

when sylus, the strongest warrior of the grasslands, chooses you as his mate, you're forced to consummate your union in front of the entire clan.

━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: sylus x female reader (afab)

━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with very little plot, porn with feelings

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 3.4k

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, public sex, voyeurism, outdoor sex, people watching you have sex, missionary, cumming inside, medieval bedding ceremony vibes, NOT continuation off grassland romance (though inspired by it), NOT based off any real world clan, completely made up clan & traditions, implied virgin mc, implied first time sex, use of y/n, dom!sylus, dirty talking sylus, talks of marriage, mating, and some political play.

━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: ao3 | twitter inspo 1 | twitter inspo 2

━ ✧.˖ A/N: hello! short fic since i was so heavily inspired by the new sylus memory. this is NOT a continuation of ‘grassland romance’ though it is heavily inspired by the overall theme of the memory. i began furiously writing this when they released the trailer oof i was so hooked. inspired by @/yuchanpaws_ quote tweet linked above!

please note that the clan and traditions mentioned in this fic are completely fictional. however the tradition is based loosely off of the “bedding ceremony” that medieval europe used to partake in!

i will NOT be writing fics for the new xavier or raf memories! i may write for zayne but that is up in the air. i only wrote for this one because i was super inspired by the memory and the fan discourse about it on twitter and tumblr <3

this was actually so fun to write. i might find myself writing more bite sized fics like this, that inspire me rather than feel like me forcing myself to finish them :’) unfortunately that probably means less xavier and raf from now on and only zayne & sylus…

THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.

✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖

“Don’t look at them. Look at me.”

You can hardly hear Sylus through the deafening chants and cheers of the people around you. Never in a million years did you think you’d be caught in this situation. The Mating Rite.

Actually, it was customary for the most esteemed members of your clan to partake in the Mating Rite, those of the Elder Tribunal, the high ranking commanders of the various military societies, really any of the most respected members of the community had to participate in the Rite. To prove their bond with their chosen to the rest of the clan, committing themselves not only to each other, but to the clan.

But you didn’t fall into any of those criteria. While you were under the strict and often suffocating protection of the clan’s most skilled warriors, for reasons they’d refused to share with you, you weren’t someone of the necessary stature needed to be required to partake in the Rite.

But Sylus was.

The youngest warrior to be sworn into the clan’s most elite and ruthless military society. The youngest to be considered for a commanding position in the militia, a position he turned down many times. He was the most formidable and respected gladiator of your entire clan, and even that of the opposing clans of the Grasslands.

There wasn’t a soul in all the Grasslands that didn’t know his name. You either envied him, feared him, or wanted to share a bed with him. Maybe all of the above.

You knew the day would come when Sylus would have to choose a suitable partner, and the thought of it inexplicably sent painful pangs down your very soul. The fear of losing him, when you didn’t even have him, was so utterly heartbreaking, you didn’t know how you’d bear it when the time came.

And yet…Sylus wanted you. He chose you.

You’d never forget the way he sought you out after returning from a mission he told you little of, under the massive acacia you’d often lain under, with the silver haired man in question holding you dearly. How you’d flown into his arms upon seeing his distinct form approaching you, his strong hands gripping your waist as he spun you around, whispering into your ear about how he’d missed you in his time away.

Or when he threw you over his shoulder, his fingers gripping the underside of your rear, a clear mission in his mind as he traversed the Grasslands to the Elder Tribunal’s square.

“I need to show them I already have a lover.”

The Elder Tribunal had been pushing Sylus’s hand for years now, wanting to see their most esteemed warrior mated, securing his future progeny to that of the clan. He’d been able to hold them off for as long as possible, his responsibility as a warrior and as your key protector keeping him far too busy to find a suitable mate.

You weren’t exactly sure what changed, what exactly had caused Sylus’s hand to be forced. What had caused him to finally give in, choosing a partner to share the rest of his life with.

In any case, you found yourself under Sylus’s very naked body, his thick erection nestled firmly inside your quivering walls. He was naked from the waist down, but still wore the traditional garb of the warrior ensemble’s chest harness, the bone embellishments rattling against the coarse leather. There were countless eyes around you, watching the way Sylus slid in and out of you, his eyes never leaving yours.

Sylus did his best to use his much larger body to shield yours from the hungry stares surrounding you, wanting to take away even the tiniest bit of your obvious discomfort. You were entirely naked, as was required of women partaking in the Rite, bare and vulnerable before the many spectators. And while the thought of showing off your magnificent naked body off to others excited Sylus, as he knew that it was a sight others could behold but never have like he could, he wanted to make you as comfortable as possible.

The warm air breezed against your naked body, only a canvas ceiling protecting you from the elements. It was a tent of sorts, without any walls, to give the crowd the best view of the Mating Rite. Of you and Sylus.

Even though the air is warm, the, almost muggy, Grassland breeze against your bare skin makes you shiver.

“I’m sorry,” he grits, his jaw slack as you sucked him in so tightly, trying to focus on comforting you and not the way you nearly choked the orgasm out of him, “I’m sorry. I never wanted our first time…to be like this.”

His words make your mind sober up, your eyes focusing on his and not those around you. He used his thick thumb to rub the tears out of the corner of your eyes.

“It’s’okay Sylus,” you gasp, the pain of his thick cock making it difficult to speak, “I-I’m’okay.”

Sylus grimaces, hearing the choke of discomfort in your soft voice. The way your cunt felt around him was so completely and wholly blissful, and he’d be damned if he didn’t make you feel as good as you made him feel.

“Just focus on me, alright my dove?” he murmurs, his voice gruff with desire. As he continues to rock into you, unbearably gently and loving, he leans down until his lips are a mere inch from yours.

“Let me take the pain away, hm?”

He presses his lips to yours, inhaling your gasp as he kisses you for the first time. You’d daydreamed about the way his lips would feel on yours, when you watched him train with his fellow warriors, when you’d wash fresh fruit in the brook by the clearing, when he’d watch over you, protecting you from a danger that everyone refused to tell you the truth of.

But your silly little daydreams paled in comparison to the real thing. Nothing could have prepared you for how warm and commanding his lips would be when they took yours. How his tongue, gentle yet insistent as they traced the opening of your mouth, would slip into your mouth, exploring you like he owned you.

You never could have imagined the way he’d literally take your breath away, kissing you like he’d been waiting just as long to taste you, to have you.

It’s so wonderfully dizzying that you don’t even notice the pain of his member inside you ebbing into a burning pleasure. You don’t notice the way people holler when Sylus kisses you, the way they cheer at the scene unfolding before them.

You squeak, a mix of a moan and a squeal when Sylus pushes so deeply into you that you briefly see warm white stars clouding your vision. Sylus groans, ripping his lips from yours to breathe out a throaty moan of pained pleasure.

“Not so tight,” he all but seethes at you. You wince at his harsh tone, doing your best to relax your squirming muscles and obey his words. Sylus instantly softens at your reaction, his hand coming up to caress your cheek.

“You’re so tight down here, sweetheart,” he grits, fingers coming down to press on your bare tummy, “It’s making it difficult for me to…control myself.”

“I-Is that…” you whimper, confused by the way he’s making your body burn with an unfamiliar pleasure, “Ngh – bad?”

Sylus chuckles, despite the tortured plea that shines in his carmine eyes, “Bad? Far from it…You feel unbelievable.”

Your heart clenches at his praises, cheeks heating at the sounds his body makes against yours. Flushed at the way people are watching Sylus claim every inch of you, your virtue.

He continues, stroking your cheek gently, pleadingly, “But it would be embarrassing if you made me…end the Rite so quickly. In front of all these people.”

The implications of his words dawn on you and your eyes widen in a mix of surprise and disbelief. He doesn’t stop his movements even as he explains himself to you, your nails digging into his thick biceps that cage you, blocking your modesty from the spectators.

“I have an image to uphold, after all,” he smirks only half-joking, a well deserved arrogant confidence playing behind his beautiful features, “Only you would make it so difficult for me, little bird.”

“M’not trying to Sy –” you choke out, looking down and trying to focus on the way his impossible girth splits you open, and not the jeering of the crowd. You’re briefly hypnotized by the shiny ring of something filthy that encircles his base, the way his abdomen clenches with every movement he makes.

You’re snapped out of your trance at the distinct and familiar voices, some distance behind your head. You’re acutely reminded of just how exposed you are, your thighs trying to clench shut on instinct. But Sylus’s body holds them open, his fingers gripping your chin to bring your face back to his.

“Don’t worry about them.”

“I-I just –” you whine, not even knowing what you want to say, unable to stop your eyes from darting around. You squirm when you make eye contact with the hungry eyes around you, recoiling into yourself.

“I can tell you exactly what each and every one of them are thinking,” Sylus purrs into your ear as he leans down to press his weight deliciously onto you, which only earns more hooping and hollering from the crowd, “They’re thinking about what it would be like…to be in my place.”

Sylus smirks when you shiver at his lewd words, his filthy whisperings making you inexplicably and embarrassingly excited. His voice is impossibly heated, a dangerous ferality behind them, “Thinking about what it would be like to be the one inside of you right now.”

You whine at his words, hitting his shoulder weakly, “Sylus d-don’t say that. I only want to think about you.”

Sylus groans, a beautifully deep and erotic moan of satisfaction, “Damn right. You are mine.”

He continues on, so lost in the feeling of your tight wet walls that he begins to ramble uncharacteristically, “I’m sorry, my love. I will make it up to you.”

Before you can even ask for what, Sylus is driving right back into your deepest parts, making your toes curl as you squeal unabashedly, not even registering how people cheer at the way you he fucks you.

He whispers, not paying any mind to the way people applaud the way Sylus makes your body keen, encouraging him to take you harder, “After this, little bird, I’ll show you just how good I can make you feel. Just you and me. I promise.”

As inexperienced as you were, you knew the way Sylus fucked you was otherwordly. His thrusts, both dominating and tender, his hands gentle as they squeeze your breasts, his lips as they caress yours. The way he so quickly blurred the pain to a blinding pleasure, you knew Sylus knew exactly how to use his body.

Beyond that, you knew Sylus was well acquainted with the female body. The way he fucked you was unreal, quite literally making magic with your joined bodies. The pain had faded away, replaced with an ecstasy that nearly blocked everything else out.

Nearly.

As the whooping gets louder, Sylus only fucks you harder, trying to distract you from the crowd around you, “It’s just you and me, sweeheart.”

Despite Sylus’s comforting words, he himself was still profoundly aware of the eyes on your joined bodies. But it only served to excite him, make him harder. The way all eyes were on you, the beautiful woman he’d chosen for himself, his mate. Something they could stare at but never indulge in. It drove him insane.

You nod, losing yourself as Sylus’s rhythmic pounding makes your nerves burn with pleasure, in a way that makes you confused and alarmed. You felt lightheaded, the pressure in your stomach overwhelming. It felt like you were losing control of your body, like you might have an accident all over him.

“Sy-Sylus, I think something’s – nghn – happening!” you wail, “I think maybe we should – ahngh – stop.”

Sylus groans, acutely aware, even if you aren’t, that you’re nearing your very first orgasm. You squeeze him so tightly that he can’t help but meet you at the peak of that blinding pleasure.

“Let it happen, Y/N,” he soothes, trying to mask the fact that he’s about to lose his own mind from how perfectly you’re clamping down on his cock, “You’re close aren’t you?”

Your eyes widen at the realization of what this sensation is, having heard stories from the other women in the clan, almost scared of how explosive you know it’s going to be. Your fingers furiously grapple at the thick ropes of muscles on his back, scratching deep red welts into him.

“Cum for me in front of all these people, my dove,” he coos, almost condescendingly, “Let’s show them exactly who you belong to now, hm?”

His words drip with absolute filth and it only makes the tension grow tauter, almost like a balloon being stretched to its limits before it pops. You don’t even notice when Sylus’s large hands find the area where your bodies meet.

Your eyes, screwed shut at the new sensations of mind and bodily bliss, fly open when he touches your most sensitive parts, rubbing furiously at the crest of your lips. The feeling is so overwhelming your back arches off the thick mat of straw and blankets that you rest on, chasing the sharp pleasure that his fingers bring onto your intimate regions.

“So responsive,” Sylus murmurs gruffly, “Just like that, my heart. Let yourself feel it, hm? For me.”

You’re honestly at a loss at how Sylus can speak to you coherently right now, if he feels even a fraction of the ecstasy he’s bestowing upon your body.

As your eyes roll back, your mouth parted in a symphony of the most beautiful moans and whimpers, Sylus feels himself being pushed to release. The sharp claps of applause are muted as his ears ring with the overwhelming pressure of how badly his cock wants to release inside you.

For the first time, Sylus stutters, “I-I need to cum inside you. I’m sorry, my love.”

The Mating Rite required the participating parties to unify in the most intimate ways possible, and that included the sharing of essences. And the idea of that…as new as you were to the pleasures of skinship, drove you to madness.

The thought of him filling you so deeply with him, all of him. You couldn’t explain it but you wanted it more than anything you’d ever wished for.

You can’t stop yourself from begging pathetically, “I-I want it. I want you Sy. Please.”

Your voice is practically drowned out by the intensifying cheers of the crowd, but Sylus hears your pleas loud and clear. In fact it’s the only thing he can hear, his brain drowning out anything that wasn’t you.

“Do you?” Sylus smirks, trying to maintain control despite how royally fucked your words rendered him, “So filthy for such an innocent little bird.”

“Then you’d better take it all, my love.”

With frenzied fingers, Sylus sends you careening down the unfamiliar ledge of orgasmic bliss. His thrusts grow increasingly frantic, your cunt convulsing so violently that Sylus nearly wants to black out. You were so unbearably tight that his climax was forced out of him, the warm splash of milky hot seed coating every centimeter of your perfect little hole.

As he spews into you, he feverishly takes your lips into his, desperate to taste you as his body gave you every ounce of himself. His tongue furiously finds yours, a fierce gnashing of teeth, flesh, and raw unadulterated passion. Your entire body vibrates as he moans into you, his body rocking both of you through a transcendent euphoria that will undoubtedly change your life forever.

Neither of you can even hear the screams or the toast of applause that erupts all around you, clan members quite literally celebrating at the union of their most prized warrior.

Sylus doesn’t still, biting the inside of his mouth as he ruts himself into a painful overstimulation. Yet, he can’t get enough of you, not wanting to pull out and be without your warmth, without you.

“The rite has been completed!”

As your body begins to come down from its dizzying heights, your senses start to return, your consciousness becoming vaguely aware of people crowding closer.

One of the clan elders saunters over, wanting to congratulate Sylus, parade him around like a prize the clan had secured for themselves. Sylus’s body blocks his as he approaches, his head snapping back forcefully when he feels an unwanted presence encroaching on your space, intruding on his brief moment of bliss with you.

“Sy?” you murmur wearily, your body drained of every last drop of energy, replacing your body with a heavy contentment that weighed you down.

Sylus doesn’t respond, snapping something at the clan elder, and the other important clan members that had begun to slowly approach. Though you couldn’t hear what he said, you can make out his snarky and forceful tone, a tone you’d never heard him take, especially not with you. It was filled with an authority that would normally never be taken with those of the Elder Tribunal.

But of course, he was Sylus.

Just like that, everyone is clearing out of the small meadow in which the Rite had taken place, heading back to the central square of the Grassland. The serenity left behind blankets you and Sylus, as he returns his attention back to you.

His manhood is still snug inside you, thick and throbbing again despite the copious amounts of slick dripping from where he still plugs you. Your legs are lazily clung to his sides, his thick body slotted between your shaking thighs.

“Hey…” he murmurs, brushing your sweaty hair out of your face.

Your eyes flutter open, twinkling when they catch the way Sylus drinks you in. His lips are quirked in a smirk, a classic display of Sylus-esque arrogance, but his crimson eyes are so tender, the sharp lines of his face softened.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against your clammy forehead, wrapping his arms behind your back and cradling you in his arms. He hoists you onto his lap, your legs coming to wrap around his waist, his erection still nestled into your sore walls.

“For what?” you whisper, resting your head on his chest, trying to control the shivers that rack your body involuntarily.

“For doing this. For me.”

You glance up at him, unsure of what to say. You hardly felt like you did him a favor, between the indescribable pleasure he’d just given you and the feelings for him you’d buried deep down.

“You don’t need to thank me,” you whisper, suddenly feeling more exposed than ever, even though the two of you finally had some privacy.

Sylus doesn’t speak, holding you dearly as he gazes off into the flat plains of the Grassland, a few large acacia trees littered in the open fields.

“It was…incredible,” you admit, “You’re incredible.”

Sylus looks down at you, the usual cockiness and arrogance faded, letting you really see into the soft and warm soul of the Grassland’s most revered warrior.

He bends down to kiss you, his lips impossibly soft and patient as opposed to the violent way he’d kissed you earlier. Every touch is a caress, every second precious and fleeting.

Sylus bites back his groan as he feels himself stirring back to life inside you. He tries to focus instead on how it feels to hold you, to have you.

He fully intended to make good on his earlier promise, showing you just how thoroughly he could love you. But for now, he just wanted to feel your lips on his, your skin against his. The way he’d always wanted. The way he’d always intended.

A warm gust of wind sweeps through the meadow, making the foliage dance lazily. For over two decades, you’d lived between these very same blades of grass. Yet as you kissed Sylus, the Grassland had never felt quite so alive.

.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.

✧.˖ i do not permit translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or others. please do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own.

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danysdaughter · 27 days ago

Text

The Education Of James Buchanan Barnes

pairing | post!tfatws!bucky x fem!reader

word count | 2.7k words

summary | bucky asked to learn about edging—he just didn’t expect to be blindfolded, tied to a bed, and brought to the brink twice before even getting inside you.

tags | (18+) MDNI, unprotected sex, p in v, edging, orgasm denial, begging, 69 position, face sitting, oral sex (receiving and giving), restraints, bondage, blindfolds, dom/sub elements, reader is a teasing little shit, accidental orgasm, post-nut confessions, friends to lovers, dirty talk

a/n | by popular demand. maybe a series. I actually have part 3 done, it's over 4k words, will post it maybe Tues or Wed

Taglist | if you wanna be added to my bucky barnes masterlist just add your username to my taglist

likes comments and reblogs are much appreciated ✨✨

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ - ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ - ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ

divider by @cafekitsune

His arms were stretched above him, wrists bound to the headboard with silk scarves—deep blue, smooth, soft, but knotted just tight enough to hold.

“Too tight?” you asked, fingers brushing over the delicate bindings, eyes flicking down to his face.

Bucky looked up at you, his bare chest rising slow with each breath. He tugged lightly—testing them—then gave you a crooked smirk.

“I could snap these in half if I wanted.”

Your brow lifted. “But you won’t.”

His smirk faded just slightly, replaced by something softer. More hesitant. “Are you sure about this?”

You leaned over him, your thighs straddling his hips, hair falling like a curtain between you as your voice dropped low.

“You said you wanted to know what edging was like,” you murmured, your fingers skating down the center of his chest. “I figured we’d learn in real time.”

He shifted beneath you, bound but still twitchy. “I read about it,” he muttered. “Didn’t sound very nice.”

You grinned, slow and wicked. “It’s not supposed to be nice. It’s supposed to be maddening.”

His eyes flicked to yours—nervous, excited, turned on out of his mind.

You leaned in closer, voice brushing his ear.

“It’s delayed gratification. Every time I get you close and pull away? The orgasm you finally get will be so much better.”

He exhaled hard.

Your hand slid lower.

“And if you’re good—” your mouth grazed his jaw, “I’ll let you come while your mouth is buried between my legs.”

His hips bucked instinctively, and the scarves tugged tight above him.

You smiled.

“Oh—and this,” you murmured.

Bucky tensed as you reached behind you and pulled out a strip of black fabric. Smooth. Soft. Purposeful.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked, eyes narrowing just a little.

You leaned in again, lips inches from his as you began tying the blindfold behind his head. “Enhancing your senses. Or something.”

“Or something?”

“It’s very scientific,” you said seriously, even as your grin gave you away. “Like, ninety percent of your brain’s sexual response is... sensory rerouting. Or whatever.”

He huffed. “That’s not a real thing.”

“Sounds real enough,” you said, finishing the knot.

He blinked under the blindfold, adjusting against the headboard, visibly trying to breathe through this new shift. He was hard already—still—and growing more tense by the second.

“You don’t even know what you’re doing, do you?” he muttered, voice low.

You shrugged, that wicked smile creeping across your lips. “Nope. But hey—first time for everything.”

He opened his mouth to protest again, probably to suggest something logical, like a safe word, or releasing one wrist just in case—

But you didn’t give him the chance.

You leaned in and kissed him, hard and slow, your lips moving over his with purpose.

To shut him up. To distract him. To take control.

And when he moaned into your mouth, wrists tugging slightly against the scarves again?

You knew you had him.

You shifted lower, settling between his legs, the sheets rustling softly beneath your knees. Bucky lay perfectly still, jaw tight, hands flexing uselessly in their restraints. The blindfold kept his lashes fluttering, the rest of his face caught somewhere between restraint and pleading.

You reached for the waistband of his boxers.

“Gonna take these off now,” you said quietly, voice like silk. “That okay?”

His head nodded once—shaky, deliberate. “Yeah. Yeah.”

You hooked your fingers into the waistband and slowly, painfully slowly, began to peel the fabric down his hips. His breath hitched. The elastic caught momentarily on his cock, and then it sprang free—thick, flushed, leaking at the tip.

Your breath caught.

You dragged the boxers down his thighs, then all the way off, letting your eyes drink him in as you tossed them aside.

God, he was beautiful.

Strong, thick thighs spread wide beneath you, all that power gone pliant. His abs tensed as you let your fingers drift gently down his hip, over his inner thigh.

Your gaze dropped to his cock—hard and straining, flushed deep red at the tip, the vein along the underside throbbing. He was leaking freely now, precum smeared across his lower stomach, the kind of mess that made your mouth water.

You reached for him.

Wrapped your hand around the base—warm, heavy, pulsing in your palm.

He groaned, deep and broken.

Your thumb slid over the tip, gathering the slick there, and you started to stroke—slow, languid, base to tip and back again, no rush, just pressure. Measured. Precise.

He twitched in your grip.

His whole body arched slightly, restrained and helpless, breath pouring out in ragged gasps.

“You’re so hard,” you whispered, stroking him a little faster. “All from just a few little touches.”

“Jesus—” he breathed. “You’re driving me insane.”

You smirked, leaning closer, breath ghosting over the head of his cock.

“Good. That means it’s working.”

You kept stroking—slow at first, deliberately teasing, your hand sliding up and down his cock in smooth, controlled movements. The slick from his own arousal made each pass easier, messier. His breath hitched each time your grip tightened near the head, every movement wringing another helpless sound from his throat.

“Shit,” Bucky groaned, arching his back slightly, wrists pulling tight against the silk restraints. “Feels so good…”

You smiled, leaning forward, letting your lips hover just above the head of his cock, not touching—not yet.

Then you picked up the pace.

Your strokes grew faster, more purposeful. Your other hand cupped his balls, gently massaging, rolling them in your palm with just enough pressure to make him twitch.

His thighs tensed beneath you.

“Oh fuck,” he gasped, hips jerking, muscles locking tight as you worked him faster. “Don’t stop—don’t—fuck, I’m—”

You stopped.

Just like that. Your hand left him.

He cried out, an almost desperate, broken sound escaping his throat as he bucked into the empty air.

“No—” he groaned. “Fuck—why—why did you stop?”

You sat back, slowly licking your fingers, watching his cock twitch helplessly in front of you.

“Because,” you said softly, “that was the edge.”

He panted, face turned toward the ceiling, chest rising and falling like he’d just run ten miles.

“That—was cruel.”

You grinned. “That was the first lesson.”

You leaned in close again, lips brushing his jaw.

“Now we do it again.”

You watched him pant beneath you, cock flushed, pulsing against his stomach, his whole body trembling with frustration and heat.

You reached up and gently tugged the blindfold away.

His eyes blinked open—glassy, wrecked, beautiful.

“Think you can handle more?” you asked softly, brushing damp hair from his forehead.

He swallowed, throat working. “Depends what you’re planning.”

You smiled.

Then shifted—slow and deliberate—climbing over him.

Straddling his chest.

His eyes widened just slightly as you braced your knees on either side of his head, your dripping core hovering just above his mouth.

“I was thinking…” you purred, lowering yourself just enough that he could smell you, “you could eat me out while I suck your cock.”

His mouth parted, breath catching.

“Are you serious?”

You smirked. “Bucky. You begged for this. You fantasized about it.”

His hands flexed in their restraints, body tense beneath you.

“You wanna taste me?” you asked, your voice low, sultry.

“Fuck—yes,” he said, already trying to lift his head. “Please.”

You lowered yourself slowly, your pussy brushing his lips—and he groaned, hands pulling at the scarves, tongue darting out instantly to lick a firm stripe through your folds.

The moment his mouth closed around your clit, your breath hitched.

And you rewarded him.

Sliding down his body, you reached for his cock again, wrapping your hand around him, stroking slow.

Then your mouth followed.

Warm.

Wet.

Deep.

He moaned into your pussy, tongue flicking desperately against your clit as you swallowed him down, your mouth working in rhythm with the roll of your hips against his face.

The sound of his groaning against you while your mouth dragged over the length of him? Filthy.

Perfect.

You were both shaking now, caught in that beautiful tension—heat, friction, mouths and hands and bodies tangled in something raw and so fucking good.

You moaned around him as his tongue curled inside you.

And he bucked beneath you, completely gone.

You lowered yourself fully onto his face, letting him take all of you—and he did, with no hesitation.

Bucky groaned like you were the only thing he’d ever wanted in his mouth, his tongue dragging through your folds in slow, deliberate licks before latching onto your clit with reckless devotion. His lips sealed around you, his tongue flicking, swirling, pressing just right, like he was memorizing the shape of your pleasure.

You gasped around his cock.

Your mouth stretched around him again, tongue flattening beneath the head as you swallowed him deep, slow strokes that made his hips jerk beneath you. You hollowed your cheeks, moaned low around him—just to make it worse—and the sound vibrated up through his length.

He moaned into your pussy, and the vibration alone made your thighs shake.

Your hands gripped his thighs, his hips, anything—but his hands were still tied, his body helpless beneath you. His only weapon was his mouth, and god, was he using it.

Your hips rocked against him in time with your strokes, chasing your high, grinding into his face as he feasted on you like he couldn’t breathe without it.

“Just like that,” you gasped around him. “Fuck—Bucky—”

You felt it building.

The tight coil deep in your belly, his mouth never stopping, his tongue relentless.

You sucked him deeper.

Faster.

And just as he groaned again—vibrating with desperation—you came.

Hard.

Your entire body clenched, thighs trembling around his head, back arching as your orgasm crashed through you like fire. You cried out, lips parting around his cock, head tilting back as the pleasure pulsed through every nerve ending.

Bucky groaned—his tongue still lapping, still savoring every last drop of you.

And then?

You pushed up.

Lifted your hips off his face.

Pulled your mouth off his cock with a slick pop.

His hips jerked upward.

“Fuck—no—” he gasped, voice ragged, cock twitching in your hand. “I was—please—I was so fucking close—”

You smirked, breathless, licking your lips as you sat up on his thighs.

“I know.”

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, glancing down at his flushed, twitching cock.

“Lesson two: just because you got me off, doesn’t mean you get yours.”

He groaned in agony, head tipping back against the pillows, chest heaving.

And still—his cock was hard.

So very hard.

Bucky was trembling beneath you.

Sweat slicked his chest, his abs tight, his cock flushed an angry red as it twitched helplessly against his stomach. His jaw was clenched, mouth parted, breath ragged like he was barely hanging on.

And he wasn’t.

His wrists flexed again in the restraints—not from frustration now, but need. Desperate, aching need.

“C’mon, baby,” he rasped, his voice low and cracked and wrecked. “Please. Please—give it to me. I need it.”

You tilted your head, your lips curling in that familiar, wicked grin.

“What do you need, Sergeant?”

His eyes locked on yours, burning with something raw. Unfiltered.

“You. Inside you. Now.”

You let the silence hang for just a second longer.

Then finally—finally—you shifted.

Your hands braced on his chest as you lifted yourself, hovered above him, your dripping core poised right over the tip of his cock.

His eyes blew wide.

He felt it—the heat of you, the way your folds barely brushed his head.

“Fuck—fuck—please—”

You lowered yourself slowly, letting the very tip of him slide inside you—just barely.

And that was all it took.

The second you sank down even an inch, his whole body locked.

His back arched, his head fell back, and he let out a deep, broken groan—like it was being ripped from his chest.

And then he came.

Hard.

Hot.

Sudden.

“Oh—fuck—” he choked, his hips jerking up once involuntarily as he spilled inside you, cock pulsing helplessly as he gasped through the high.

You froze—eyes wide—as you felt it.

The heat.

The rush.

His orgasm hitting you in one unexpected, uncontrolled, wrecking wave.

You stared down at him, lips parted in shock, your body still poised above him with only the tip inside.

He blinked up at you, dazed and red-faced, voice hoarse.

“��Shit.”

You blinked again.

Then grinned.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, barely able to hide the gleeful amusement in your voice.

You blinked once.

Then again.

“…Did you just?”

Bucky stared up at you, wide-eyed, flushed, completely wrecked.

“No,” he said immediately, too fast. Too flat.

You raised a brow.

“That is probably the worst lie ever spoken in the history of existence.”

He opened his mouth like he might argue.

But then your body shifted just slightly—and you felt it.

The warmth.

The evidence.

“Considering I can feel your cum inside me,” you said sweetly, “you wanna try that one again?”

He groaned, dragging his hands—still tied—to the sides of his head like he could disappear into the mattress.

You smiled, all smug satisfaction and teasing heat.

“Well,” you murmured, “at least we learned something tonight.”

He peeked at you through his fingers. “Yeah?”

You leaned down, kissed the corner of his mouth, soft and smug.

“You’re terrible at edging.”

You reached up, your fingers gently undoing the knots around his wrists. The silk slipped free easily, falling in soft coils onto the sheets. He groaned quietly as his arms dropped to his sides, muscles loose, completely spent.

You lay down beside him, cheek resting against his shoulder, your body still warm and glowing, every nerve thrumming from everything you’d just done.

He stayed quiet, chest rising slowly beneath your hand.

Then you tilted your head, glanced up at him with a sly smile.

“So…” you said, voice low and lazy. “How was it?”

He let out a breathless laugh—half-mortified, half-stunned. “Like being emotionally mugged by my own dick.”

You snorted, burying your face in his shoulder. “That’s… definitely going in the quote book.”

Then, after a moment, you felt his fingers twitch slightly against your waist.

He cleared his throat.

You glanced up, catching the tiny flicker of hesitation in his expression.

He was thinking.

Hard.

And that alone made you smirk. “What? Got another fantasy to confess?”

But his voice was quieter this time. Not sheepish. Just… uncertain.

“I was actually wondering,” he said slowly, like he was piecing the sentence together in real time, “if you… maybe… would want to go out with me?”

Your brows lifted in surprise.

You turned your head on his shoulder, looked up at him. His cheeks were flushed—still pink from the exertion, the orgasm, the confession.

“You mean like... a date?” you asked, eyes searching his.

He gave a short, nervous huff of laughter, eyes flicking up to the ceiling.

“Yeah. I just…” He shifted a little, like the words didn’t sit quite right in his mouth yet. “I don’t want this to just be sex. Or whatever this is. I like being around you. Even when you're impossible. Especially then.”

Your teasing grin softened just a bit. He was rambling. And adorable.

“You’re asking me now?” you said, one brow arched. “While I’m literally still dripping with your cum?”

His jaw dropped slightly, horror and exasperation all mixed in. “Jesus Christ—don’t say it like that—”

You leaned up, kissed him just below the corner of his mouth, still grinning. “Relax, Sarge.”

Then you met his eyes, warm and open.

“Of course I’ll go out with you.”

His whole body relaxed under you, like a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding finally let go.

You nuzzled closer, dropping your head back on his chest, sighing dramatically.

“But you are buying dinner. Since you came before the real show even started.”

He groaned. “You’re never letting that go, are you?”

You smirked.

“Not a chance.”

He turned his head toward you, eyes soft now, sleepy but focused. “You are amazing.”

You grinned. “Obviously.”

A beat passed.

Then his hand slid over your waist, pulling you a little closer.

“Redemption round tomorrow?”

You kissed his jaw, sweet and slow.

“We’ll see if you earn it, Sergeant.”

Bucky Barnes Taglist:

@princeescalus @s-sh-ne @winchestert101 @n3ptoonz @jeongiegram @thealloveru2 @avgdestitute @lilac13 @fayeatheart @Leathynn @solana-jpeg @person-005 @muchwita @Ruexj283 @jarnesbames108 @iheartfictionalmen1 @daddyslilbrat962 @bucky-baby-barnes @bonnietate26 @1lorenzo-lover1 @heymydearheart

those who couldn't be tagged are in bold :(

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #james buchanan barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes smut

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kimstills · 4 months ago

Text

insatiable

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: with an age gap like yours and aaron’s, it’s expected for there to be differences. aaron expected it, of course, but he never expected it to be like this. but is he really complaining?

content warnings: smut, 18+, minors do not interact!, established relationship, age gap, like two (2) spanks, some dry humping, p in v, cowgirl, cream pie, reader is a horn dog but hotch is whipped regardless, degradation, dirty talk, hints of sugar daddy!aaron

word count: 2.2k

a/n: i already had this in my drafts but when i saw this post i couldn’t help but speed up the process teehee 🤭 all i ever write is smut but i honestly cant help it lmao there’s something wrong w me

Aaron is a tired man.

A tired, busy, stressed, and overworked man.

He swears he somehow has six children despite only one of them having his actual blood and DNA.

He knows the relationship between him and the rest of his team has become fatherly in some aspects (keyword: some), even silently acknowledging the way they call him and Rossi ‘mom and dad’ behind their backs.

Yet, despite his love and respect for them, he was still a tired father man. A man that gave his team the weekend off so he could go home and sleep for 48 hours straight without the annoying six a.m. alarm that was constantly pending and going off.

But, of course, it seemed that you had others plans for him.

You, who he would normally classify as his sweet, beloved angel of a girlfriend, was secretly the devil reincarnated, someone who patiently waited for him to arrive to your shared apartment in order to attack.

He can sense the tension as soon as he steps inside the living area and sees you waiting for him on the couch, sitting primly with your legs tucked underneath you and facing the door. A sweet smile and seemingly innocent look adorns your face but Aaron knows better, and it doesn’t take a profiler to see the mischief that still sparkles through your facade.

He groans inwardly, not just because of those tactics of yours he’s already used to, no. But because of what you’re wearing. The cherry on top, truly.

A short, pink—and overall skimpy—nightie adorns your figure, the satin fabric shining the slightest bit from the glow of the table lamp from behind you. It ends at your mid-thigh, the lace adorned slit spread open over your skin, leaving little to the imagination. He can tell it’s new, a piece he hasn’t seen before—a piece he’s certain you bought with his credit card.

You look sweet, so sweet, but Aaron knows what you truly are.

A horny, insatiable beast.

Out of all the things Aaron has ever wondered in his life, he couldn’t help but be at a loss at how you’ve managed to conceal such ravenous desires with specious normalcy. He knew that hypersexuality and eagerness was a prone factor of yours, given the significant age gap between you two.

The insecurity prods at him now and then, the one that makes him think he’s far too old for a girl like you. But while he still considered himself to have a somewhat normal, healthy libido for his age, yours was over the roof—completely skyrocketed over what Aaron thought was the normal amount for a woman your age.

He doesn’t know how you do it, how you’re always ready to pounce on him at—quite literally—all times.

There’s been times where he’s been woken up with your mouth wrapped around his dick and your head bobbing up and down underneath the blanket, times where little to hardly no work gets done when he’s working from home because he just ‘looked so hot concentrated,’ times where his alarm goes off early in the morning and you call him back to bed with just a spread of your legs.

He swears he’s going to get a heart attack because of you one of these days.

The sound of you shuffling around the couch snaps him back to reality, swallowing harshly when you move to lean over the backrest of the couch. Your breasts push against the cushions, accentuating them further than the nightie allows.

“Welcome home, my love.”

He’s faced far worse monsters than a horny twenty-something-year-old, but he can’t help but look away in mortification as the exhaustion he was previously feeling begins to get replaced by his trousers tightening around him.

Your giggle snaps him out of his trance and he clenches and unclenches his fist, setting his suitcase down by the door. “Hi, sweetheart.”

You grin brightly, eyes twinkling in the low light of the apartment as you tap the seat next to you. Like a predator masking kindness and genuineness in order to get closer to their prey before they attack.

“How was work?” You ask, eyes following his every move as he cautiously makes his way over to you. You shift your body so that you’re facing him once he sits down, the top of your exposed knees brushing against the side of his thigh.

Aaron’s breath hitches. This was all part of your routine, your plan. He knows that you actually do care about how his days go, but right now, by that look in your eyes, he can tell you’re attempting to lure him in just like a siren does with a sailor.

If any of his team members were here right now they’d be snickering at how Aaron Hotchner, their seemingly stoic and intimidating boss, was turning weak in the knees for his horny girlfriend. He swallows the lump in his throat before answering, “It was good. Just a paperwork kind of day.”

You hum, nibbling at your bottom lip and leaning forward, one hand coming to rest on his pantsuit clad thigh. “I missed you today.”

It’s a ruse, Aaron says to himself. It’s all a ruse. The way you flutter your eyelashes at him and creep your hand further up. He knows it, he knows all of your little tricks.

Yet he still has to push you away. He never does.

“I missed you, too, sweet girl.” His heart flutters at the way you bite your bottom lip and smile, another endearing giggle echoing through the room before you finally move onto his lap.

Like a siren with a sailor.

You wrap your arms around his neck, practically shoving your boobs in his face as you settle yourself on either side of his thighs. Aaron groans when you plant yourself right on top of his growing bulge, throwing his head back as you begin to pepper needy, heated kisses all over his face.

His hands come to grip at your waist, hissing when you bite and suck at the sensitive skin on his neck. “Sweetheart—” he tries to usher you, to get you to slow down, but he’s cut off by you grinding down on his clothed dick, eliciting a moan from both of you.

“Missed you so much,” you repeat, voice coming out in a whine like you’ve been starved of his attention for months.

God, Aaron swears he can feel his body go into overdrive in order to attempt to keep up with you. Your lips continue to kiss at his neck while your hands eagerly work to undo his belt, messily pulling and tugging.

He hisses quietly when you reach inside his boxers to spring his cock free of its restraints, the bulge slapping against his tummy while the angry red tip leaks of precome.

“Y/N, honey,” he tries again, trying to regain control of the situation, as if he had ever had any of it to begin with. Another groan is pulled from the back of his throat when you wrap a perfectly manicured hand—a manicure he paid for, of course—around his length, interrupting his attempt to snap you out of your lust-filled haze.

You hum in satisfaction at the sight of him, moving your hand up and down, tugging at the base of his cock and running your thumb over the slit. “So big,” you whimper, nibbling at your bottom lip. “Missed your cock, Aaron. Always miss you.”

Aaron digs his nails into the fabric of the nightie, throwing his head against the cushions when you spit onto your hand and use it as lube to quicken your pace.

Maybe you were secretly a succubus, one that feigned purity and serenity to fool and lure in her victims before showing her true form. One that maxes out all of her victim’s credit cards to buy skimpy outfits and pay for all her things.

But who was he to deny you anything? Aaron never thought he would be able to handle all of this—all of you, even without the constant horniness— but here he was, fighting for his life while you lifted your hips and sunk down on his cock.

Aaron groaned again, the sound loud and guttural as it mixed in with your own cry of pleasure. Your walls clenched, wrapping around him like a vice who never wanted to let go.

“Go on, sweetheart,” he mumbles, his grip on your waist loosening and his hands skirting down your back to slip underneath the hem of your nightie, delivering a particularly harsh slap against your ass that makes you whine. “Take what you so desperately want all the time.”

He chuckles at the sight of your cheeks turning pink, your desperation overpowering your slight embarrassment as you begin to move your hips.

“Aaron,” you cry out, bottom lip jutting out and eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“What? Does that feel good?” He taunts, one hand slipping around your waist, keeping you close while the other leans against the backrest of the couch.

You nod, a fucked-out expression already taking its place on your face. “S-So good, I l-love it.”

“Yeah? You love it?” He coos when you nod again. “Dirty girl, always so needy and ready for me. You have no shame, do you, sweetheart?”

“Uh-uh,” you mumble, “Need you all the time.” The straps from your nightie slip down your shoulder as you lean backwards, resting your palms against his knees behind you before quickening your pace and bouncing needily.

“Shit, honey,” Aaron murmurs, taking in the sight of you before him. Your tits jiggled in his face, threatening to jump out of the fabric covering them, and your head was thrown back in utter pleasure while you rolled your hips. Some of the sweetest sounds Aaron had ever heard in his life were leaving your mouth, a mix of babbled words and moans.

“‘Mma, I’m g-gonna cum, ba-baby,” You whisper, too blissed out to form proper words. “I’m gonna—fuck—gonna c-cum, Aaron.”

Aaron could practically feel how close you were, your walls clenching and unclenching around him repeatedly as you pushed through the pain shooting up your thighs and continued bouncing on his cock.

“You’re going to be the death of me, sweet girl,” he mutters, stopping your irregular movements before pulling you into his chest and taking over for you.

A loud, practically pornographic moan echoed through the apartment as he began thrusting up into you, settling himself further down the couch for a better angle. The only sounds that could be heard were his low grunts and your high-pitched moans along with the sound of skin slapping against skin mixing in with the squelching sound of your pussy.

Repeated strings of ‘yes, yes, yes’ left your mouth, teeth digging into your bottom lip harshly and toes curling as you felt your orgasm approach you violently. You shook in his hold, adding to his thrusts by bouncing up and down again as best as you could.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” Aaron whispers into your ear, tightening his hold on you. “Come on my cock, you wanted it so bad, right?”

You nod dumbly, eyes shut and face contorted into pure, utter bliss. You quiver when another slap is delivered to your ass, and it doesn’t take long for you to finish right then and there. You squeal in his arms, body stuttering and shaking as your orgasms rips through your body and invades all your senses.

Aaron presses a chaste kiss to your cheeks, not letting go of his hold on you as he continues thrusting up inside your gushing cunt, his own movements becoming sloppy as he feels his own high approach.

“Aaron,” you sigh, “Come in m-me. P-Please, fill me up,” you throw your head back, “Want it so bad.”

All it takes are those words for him to unload inside you, another groan escaping as white, hot ribbons of his come spurt deep inside you, mixing in with your own release.

You both lay still there, his cock still inside you as you attempt to regain your breath. After a while, you giggle breathily, coming up to wrap your hands around his neck and lay your head on his shoulder tiredly.

“What a shame you have to go back to work tomorrow,” you say, the pout on your lips evident despite Aaron not being able to see you properly.

This next part he knows he shouldn’t say, but he can’t help himself.

“I, uh, gave the team the rest of the weekend off.” He feels you freeze in his arms. “I’ll be home, honey.”

You sit back up, your eyes holding that hunger again as you stare up at him and tilt your head to the side coyly. “Really?”

He nods, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

You giggle again. “Well, looks like we’ll have a lot of time to ourselves then, no?”

Aaron groans when he feels you begin to clench around him again.

When he goes back to work the next Monday, he’s approached by a confused looking Rossi, the older man’s brows furrowed as he takes in his appearance.

“You look more tired than before?” He says, the observation coming out as a question.

Aaron sighed.

Yes, you were insatiable. But he was, too.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #maddie’s stills

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tonycries · 1 year ago

Text

AITA For F*cking My Sugar Daddy's Son?! - G.S.

Synopsis. When your sugar daddy just isn’t paying attention to you, can you really be blamed for fúcking his son? Especially when his son is absolutely obsessed with you.

Pairing. Rich boy! Gojo Satoru x Sugar baby! Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, jealous Satoru, créampie, dirty talk, manhandling, marking, Satoru’s dad is not really present, oral (female receiving), overstim, másturbation (male), thigh riding, cúmplay, Satoru is really really down bad and filthy for you, CEO’s son! Gojo, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 8.1k

A/N. Will proofread later, lowkey scared to post this, but I just wanted it out of my mind. And in my mind, Satoru’s dad is FINE asl so-

The first time you meet Gojo Satoru is when you’re all dolled up for his father.

Designer dress just a bit too tight, running on a few too many shots of tequila, wanting to be anywhere but at this stuffy gala. Everything was too bright - too polished.

And it really didn’t help that no matter how many scathing looks or whispers that followed you, you just had to be here - it was in your contract, after all. Because luckily for you, you just so happened to be the infamous little plaything hanging off the arm of the head of Gojo Corporations.

Well, usually. Right now your sugar daddy was too busy entertaining his business partners, leaving you off to the side, praying for something - anything - to save you from this-

“Damn if I’d come to these shitty galas a lot more often if it meant I’d get to see a beauty like you.”

You jolt out of your bored little reverie, eyes immediately snapping up to meet the tall man suddenly in front of you. When did he even get so close?

You can’t help but drink him in from head to toe, from the overpriced, slightly-disheveled suit to the tiny dimple at the end of his mischievous grin. Strangely familiar white locks fell effortlessly to curtain his eyes. Eyes that were a startling blue - the kind of blue that had your cheeks flaring and knowing exactly who this was.

Oh.

At your silence, he tilts his head with the air of someone that owns this entire venue and everything in it because, well, he did. Twinkling gaze searing into your skin as it roams appreciatively all over your body, plowing on, “Though, you look like you’re on the verge of an aneurysm around these old coots.”

You sigh, pinching your nose at the curious glances around you. Not even able to find it in yourself to put on that plastic smile anymore, “Oh y’know, just soaking up my popularity with the masses after being stranded here.”

“Oh? Here with anyone?”

“Yeah.” you blurt out, “Your father.”

You watch in amusement as Satoru’s mouth falls into a delicate oh! eyes flickering over his shades between you and the handsome man on the other end of the venue, oblivious and fully enjoying himself in the company of his secretary. A bit too much without you.

“Y’know…” he starts, shaky and sounding only half the insufferable heir he was before, “I would say that’s a hilarious version of a ‘your mom’ joke but you’re actually serious, aren’t you?”

“Mhm. Though it would make a good punchline, huh?” You huff out a laugh at the way he was suddenly less of a smooth-talking playboy and more of a lost puppy. The gears turning in his head as he processes that oh shit you were the sweet lil’ thing his dad’s been suddenly rushing off to meet straight after work. And the reason why all those old fossils here were clutching their pearls in scandal.

He just didn’t expect you to be this…gorgeous. And for the first time in forever, he’s suddenly so intrigued.

Because ah, you should’ve known better than to think that this little hiccup would deter the infamous Gojo Satoru. No, in fact that million-dollar smirk only makes its way back onto his unfairly pretty face, like he’s about to spill the juiciest gossip of the century.

“So you’re the latest armcandy my ol’ man has picked up, huh? I hafta say, dear old dad has good taste.” he muses, stepping in close enough that his expensive cologne makes your head spin. “Why don’t you and I ah-” You follow Satoru’s gaze to where he was staring at the way his father was now making a beeline through the crowd. Straight for the two of you.

“Gotta run before I get my share of the company revoked.” he flashes you a quick smile, fulling intent on saving his father’s delicate ego. But not before leaning down to whisper in your ear, “But jus’ saying,” voice a pretty little purr, “I wouldn’t ever leave you standing here so alone and gorgeous, princess.”

You can only stand there, reeling from the sheer audacity as he darts into the crowd with a wink, not caring if he stepped on a few too many overpriced coattails than necessary. Wondering whether this was some bizarre dream induced by too much tequila and not enough common sense.

“Hi, sweetheart. Investors held me up, you know how it is. Having fun, huh?” A toned arm wraps around your waist as your sugar daddy finally arrives by your side. And as he went on about his latest business branch, only two thoughts ring through your mind - 1. You were seriously reconsidering this arrangement. And 2. This was going to be interesting.

And oh was it interesting.

Because Satoru always managed to find you, wherever you were. No matter if it was another droning function or a chance meeting at the sprawling Gojo Estate, Satoru always swooped in whenever his father was too busy for you. Which, fortunately for Satoru, happened to be a lot.

Hell, he seemed to find you even when you least wanted him to. Like that time he had to drag you away mid-argument with a particularly rude one of his snobby aunts. That was not a fun family reunion.

All unabashed confidence and pretty smiles where his father was cold, cold calculation. Ready with a smart mouth to bicker with you and bright eyes that seemed to linger on you a bit too long. But you didn’t mind - why would you? Because all things considered, Satoru was a very attractive man. Sure, his father was extremely handsome, too - in a clean-cut, DILF-y way, in fact. But his son was dangerously attractive.

So much so that sometimes when he swept you away from insufferable galas to talk, some strange little part of you wished it was him that you came here with instead. Just for a second.

“So, what do you see in my father anyway? His company?” Satoru asked you one day. Draping himself over his cool office desk, so comically out of place in the stiff corporate room. Legs kicking in the air as he waits for your response.

You tear your eyes away from the way his biceps were straining so deliciously against his snug button-up to deadpan, “I mean, I am his sugar baby after all, Satoru.”

“But think about it,” he whines, batting those long lashes at you. Fully intent on driving you as dangerously close to a stroke as possible before his father finishes up an important business meeting. One that he missed - whoops. “There’s close to nothing redeemable about the man. His idea of a family bonding activity is a PowerPoint presentation on quarterly earnings.”

“Satoru.”

“And either way- I’m getting the company in a few years, would ya be my sugar baby then, princess?”

Ah, there it was.

It’s been a few weeks of knowing Satoru, and those little comments still made your head spin. Second-guessing the nature of this strange little…friendship? You didn’t even know anymore. Because yeah there might’ve been a few, stupid little lingering touches - like a trace on your hips, or your hand firmly in his as he led your (temporary) escape from another lonely gala. But those meant nothing, right?

“Nah, I’d poison you and take over the company instead.”

“Hey!”

Well, whatever, he was just your sugar daddy’s son. His sharp-mouthed, dangerously handsome son that just couldn’t seem to leave you alone. Not that you were complaining, really. Your relationship with his father was not exactly exclusive - you already knew that secretary of his was a bit suspiciously close - but that’s all he’ll ever be. Right?

Or, well, that’s what you stupidly thought.

It wasn’t until one night late in the Gojo Estate, cursing those ridiculously long hallways, that you get an inkling of exactly how wrong you were.

“Ugh, fucking rich people.” you mutter under your breath, wandering around trying to find whether the fuck the bathroom was. Because it doesn’t matter how many companies and businesses Gojo senior ran, the man still sucked at directions. You hiss, rubbing the tiny bruise on your neck - and aftercare too, clearly, even though that was in that damn contract. Something about an urgent business call with his secretary. Ugh.

After three wrong doors, a trip around the in-home planetarium (seriously, who even needed that?), and chugging a full water bottle from the third kitchen in exhaustion, you finally find yourself walking towards what hopefully looked like the bathroom.

Hand reaching for the doorknob to swing it open. Ah, this better be the one or so help you-

Now, Satoru thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. And you - hair mussed, and dazed, standing there in nothing but a large button-up, falling just below your panties - looked like a sinfully beautiful lil’ demon here to lure him into hell. And oh how gladly he’d go if it means he got to see this ethereal view more often.

“Ah! Wha- Sato-”

You don’t even know if you want to scream or not - torn between taking in the sculpted chest smushed against your face and not wanting to alert security downstairs. Reeling backward you drink in the sight before you and God how you wish you didn’t - it wasn’t too good for your heart.

Satoru’s hair was tousled, droplets of water glistening on his hair like diamonds. Skin soft and damp and smelling so delicious. Bathroom light bouncing off his rippling muscles, pecs flexing, as his strong arms reach out to steady you as you reel backwards.

Traitorously, your eyes snake across his sculpted body. Dipping below once. Twice. Cheeks flaring as a pang of disappointment hits you at the damp towel wrapped around that slutty torso. Wondering what’s underneath-

“Y’should take a picture, it lasts longer.” Satoru grins, like the shameless bastard he is. Though he wasn’t in any better state - eyes flickering between you and any sliver of exposed skin his eyes could reach.

“I should be saying the same to you.” you mutter, caught red-handed, shuffling your feet in embarrassment.

Satoru lets out a low chuckle as he pulls you closer minutely, presence practically enveloping you. “Oh, me?” he says, voice dropping to a husky murmur. Thumb tracing that little spot on your neck, “S’hard not to when y’look so appetizing.”

And you don’t even try to pull away because fuck this is Satoru and he looks so good - so warm under your fingertips, even when you jolt at the realization of what exactly he was talking about. Your hand coming up to cover that tiny mark left on your skin from not-too-long ago. A shameful little reminder that this was his son.

You grapple for some - any - sense of normalcy. Warning, “Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Satoru.”

He leans down impossibly, quirking an eyebrow. Both amusement and something unreadable flashing across his face. “Oh, but it’s got my father somewhere?”

“Why? Jealous?”

“Yes.”

You startle, taken aback by the blunt confession. So direct and something so Satoru. The word hands in the hair’s breadth between you two now, sending your mind reeling. And you can’t help but repeat, “Jealous?”

“Fucking yes.” There it was again.

But this time, Satoru plows on, voice barely above a whisper but ringing in the thick air. “Jealous he gets to have you all to himself but still doesn’t kiss you like you should be.”

“What do you-”

“Your lipstick.” he interrupts, swiping a thumb over your bottom lip, “Why’s it as perfect as since you came in?” And, indeed, you realize with a jolt that no you really haven’t been kissed the way you wanted - not enough to leave your make-up so sinfully ruined.

Minty breath fanning your face so dangerously now, and you barely even realize that you’re leaning into it, “If it were up to me, princess, I’d ruin that pretty lil’ lipstick of yours every chance I got.”

A delicious little shiver runs down your spine, head spinning at Satoru and his words and Satoru- And it’s all you can do to get out a shaky, “So why don’t you?”

And then he’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him - like neither of you had the strength nor the will to stop.

Satoru tasted just like candy, such an intoxicating sweetness that had you gasping as his soft tongue licked at the seam of your lips. Intertwining with yours as he breathes you in desperately. So sloppy. Such a sinful little mix of saliva and teeth and pure need.

His chest is soft under your greedy hands, lips searing against yours, and you could feel his hands wandering across every inch of skin they could find. Kissing you like he’ll never be able to again because fuck he knows that he might just not.

Long fingers dance delicately underneath that shirt to feel- oh fuck, you weren’t even wearing panties. Such a pretty lil’ slut and by God was he a goner.

Groaning into the kiss, he lets you loop your arms around his neck, hardened nipples rubbing against his abs as you tug on his damp hair. Honestly, fuck that thin shirt, Satoru thinks he might just pass out right here right now.

“S-Satoru.” you whisper against his lips, legs hiking up to grind your bare cunt against the throbbing erection straining against his towel. Already so wet from water or precum, you had absolutely no idea. You couldn’t give less of a fuck in fact, needing to see if Satoru’s cock was as pretty as the rest of him right now. Hands urgently dipping below the hem, starting to tug and-

“Hey, sweetheart. Did you find the bathroom?”

Shit. Fuck. Wonderful - perfect, in fact.

You would’ve thought Satoru burned you with how quickly you pushed him away. Cheeks burning, breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Almost slipping on the tile as you try to compose yourself at a safe distance - one that wouldn’t end up with you jumping his bones again.

But all rational thoughts of that and your sugar daddy - Satoru’s father - almost go out the window once you take in the heavenly sight before you.

Satoru’s lips swollen, hair disheveled, towel hanging slightly too low off his hips. Giving you such a pretty peak of those tufts of snowy white hair at the bottom.

“W-we shouldn’t…” you trail off, as the footsteps get louder and louder. Something prickly and uncomfortable pooling in your stomach with each beat.

Luckily for you, Satoru probably catches on to how you looked like you wanted the ground to swallow you whole right now. Voice low and control as he agrees, “Yeah, we probably shouldn’t.” No care in the world for his steadily approaching father as he lazily adjusts his towel, a gesture so nonchalant yet distracting.

You swallow hard as he moves to walk past you, thinking that if this just so happened to be a dream then by God was it a good one. But of course - when has Satoru ever let you have it easy?

Because he stops abruptly in his tracks, fingers only ghosting the doorknob. Immediately turning back to walk to you with two, big steps, eyes gleaming, dimple flashing. And before you even know what’s happening, his lips are on yours. Featherlight and fleeting. But so so addictive. Nipping at your bottom lip, savoring you on his tongue.

It’s over before you know it, and a pathetic little disappointed whine leaves you as he pulls away. A smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he mutters lowly into yours, “Y’look prettier like this.”

Ah, you weren’t happy to see him leave but how you loved watching him go. Bathroom light so pretty against all the dips and curves of his figure as he walked away. White hair reflecting the warm hue, muscles flexing, hips slightly swaying with such a slutty little confidence that only Satoru could have.

As you watch him disappear around the door, you almost forget the unwelcome visitor hot on your heels any second now and - wait - what was it that he’d said? “Prettier like this”?

Turning to the mirror and-

Oh. Shit.

You better have brought your make-up remover.

God, Satoru’s never ran to his room as fast as this since that time he was caught using his father’s elite golf clubs to play pool with Suguru.

Because as soon as that goddamn door is shut, he’s ripping his towel off. Letting it drop to the floor in a damp pile God-knows-where as he immediately fists his swollen cock.

With a groan, he leans against the shut door. Eyes scrunching in such sinful ecstasy as he squeezes the base, pulsing and so achingly hard for you. A warning and a reprimand. Shit, how the fuck did he get this hard just from kissing your pretty lil’ lips?

Ah, whatever, right now he doesn’t have the patience nor the sanity to think too hard about it. Smearing the precum beading at his weeping tip, wetting his palm so sloppily.

Neat little crescents searing into his skin where you’d grabbed him before, only thing on his mind - how would you do it?

Would you ease him into it? Or would you start up a hasty, desperate little pace like he was doing right now? Shallow, quick tugs on his thick cock like you wanted to milk him deliciously.

Satoru’s hand was cold on his angry, hot cock. And with how many times he’s slipped his into yours, he knew yours would feel better around him. Both hands wrapped around his cock but still not covering all of it. So soft and warm, your nails scraping gently across his throbbing veins.

“Shit. Hngh-” he breathes out, voice almost-pathetic, “J-jus’ like that, princess.”

And what would you say? Tell him to shut up and just take it? Would you whisper into his ear as you let him fuck himself into your pretty fists? “So hard n’ big all f’me?” Satoru’s knees buckle at the thought, hand speeding up. “Y’look so pretty like this, y’know.”

Slam! Palm slamming against the poor drawer beside him hard enough to make its legs tremble, desperately trying to keep himself from collapsing.

But oh his fist doesn’t stop. No, he doubts he ever will - not that strong of a man to keep himself from getting off so filthily to the image of you standing at the doorway of the bathroom. You looked so ethereal - Satoru couldn’t help but imagine how even more sinful you’d look if he was the one done with you. Shit, you wouldn’t even be able to stand if he had his way.

“F-fuck, princess. M’gonna ruin you, gonna fuck you till you don’t know anything but m’name.”

He grips tighter on the base, thumbing under his slit in a way he knows your devious little hands would do. Fucked-out little grunts leaving his swollen lips each time his fingers meet his flushed tip.

“Ah- Ngh, fuck.” he mutters hoarsely, letting out a low, broken little call of your name. “More. Need more, princess.” He wanted you so badly that it hurt.

What the fuck did that sleazy old man have that he didn’t? And that little bite? That would be nothing compared to what Satoru would do if he got his hands on you. Yeah, he thinks, body shuddering violently, he’d mark you up till everyone knows you’re his. Leave bites that peak out from your collar, all the way down to your pretty thighs.

“Y’belong with me pretty, could fuck you so much better.” Sweat drips from his brow, splashing onto his erratic fist. Thighs quivering, heart pounding wildly in his chest.

Satoru would almost be embarrassed by how desperate he was acting if he was in any better state of mind. Head only filled with you, and your hand and you-

And fuck for the sake of his sanity he can’t even begin to imagine how it would feel inside your pretty lil’ cunt. All he can think of is the way you’d keen so prettily, mewling out a little, “Oh s’too big.”

Would you take him all in one go? Look up at him with those beautiful, teary eyes as you milk his cock? Or would he have to ram his dick into you, because shit as much as he loves that bitchy mouth, it would look so much better gasping and stuttering as he fucks you dumb.

“Oh yeah.” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head. “Such a good lil’ slut f’me. Taking m’so well.”

God his hand was so sloppy on his dick that he didn’t even know what he was doing anymore. Just wanting to fuck you and have you do this f’him.

Ah, your plushy walls would suck him in so nicely. One hand speeds up on his cock, while the other reaches down to cradle his balls. Tugging and pulling at the same jerky rhythm they would smack your ass while he stuffs you full.

So much better than any other sugar daddy ever could. Oh how Satoru would love to mess up your pretty pussy and your lipstick. He’d fucking tattoo your lipstick stains on if he could.

And you’d be able to do nothing but gasp and whimper into his lips, cockdrunk and dazed, “Shit shit shit- Toru m’gonna - Hah- Wanna cum. Please wan’ cum-” Oh how he’d burn down this entire fucking world to hear you call him that.

“Fuck,” he curses, bucking into his fist, tight balls twitching so sensitively. “Fuck...fuck fuck fuck. M’gonna cum- shit- gonna cum, princess.”

“Cum f’me, Toru. Fill me up with y’cum- wanna take all of it.”

And then he’s cumming.

A ragged, raw moan of your name leaving his lips. Thick, hot ropes of cum that should be painting your pussy white - but, alas, he’s spilling into his fist so shamefully. And amongst the stars behind his eyes he’s sees you - you you you-

You, fucking your cunt deeper onto his cock to take every drop of his cum. You, whispering sweet little praises as his seed gushes down your thigh, telling him that oh he’s doing so well, and he’s the best boyfriend ever and you already want more-

You, at the arm of his father.

Shit, he needs to shower. Again.

---

Ever since that little incident that night, everything changed.

At this point, you didn’t even feel that usual little bitterness whenever your sugar daddy canceled for some urgent business. And, well, it made you blush to admit but you found yourself heading over to the Gojo Estate more and more frequently, often just to catch a glimpse of Gojo - or a quick kiss in the stuffy broom closet. Whichever left you more time to run away from looming security and his father.

But that was exactly the problem.

Because no matter how thick the tension lingering in the air between you two was, nothing had gone past heated kisses and touches. Either you were brought back to reality with the possibility of being arrested for indecent exposure at those galas, or someone just had to interrupt. Seriously, with how many times Satoru has had to pay off his poor personal assistant, you’ve been wondering whether he actively seeks you two out.

And it really didn’t help that Satoru always tasted so goddamn delicious. Fingers searing on your skin, cologne heavy in the heady air, it was hard to keep your hands to yourself.

But, hey, desperate times bring devious measures.

Which is why you were here right now - sinking into the plushiest bed at the Gojo Estate, clad in your delicate light blue lingerie. One that was custom-made in this specific shade of blue. Because while your sugar daddy preferred you in red, you’re sure he wouldn’t mind you using his credit card for other ulterior motives, right?

You just hoped that Satoru would just so happen to get a peak when you sneak out to use the bathroom later. What would he say? Would he like it? Would his eyes roam over your body, fingers twiddling with the flimsy lace?

But more importantly - would it be enough to make him break? Even if just a little bit?

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You’re startled out of your little whirlwind thoughts by knocking on the door. Steady, and matching your racing heart. Ah, Satoru’s father, you hastily get up to fix your hair.

“Yo, princess, are you naked or can I come in? Or can I come in when you’re naked?”

That wasn’t your sugar daddy.

Not even thinking of your current outfit anymore, you rush to throw the heavy wooden doors open to see that, yes, it really was Satoru standing at the door. All bright grins and flushed cheeks as he drinks you in. Brows raising as his eyes move down from your face once. Twice. Thrice.

Success.

“What’re you doing here, Satoru?” you bat your lashes deceivingly innocently. Trying to hold back the smirk threatening to curl your lips at the way he gulps.

“Uh- My father’s off to some urgent b-business.” he murmurs, scratching the back of his neck. “Told me to tell you he’s sorry and wishes you the breas- best.”

Oh.

Well, it wouldn’t be the first time Satoru’s father has canceled on you. But it would be the first time that he’s canceled on you so conveniently enough to leave you alone with his unfairly hot son. Now, you couldn’t let the opportunity go to waste, right?

You lean slightly against the door, body ghosting Satoru’s, teasing him, “Well, when is my dear sugar daddy coming back from his business? Tell him I miss him.”

It’s a joke - and both of you probably know it. But that doesn’t stop Satoru’s brows furrowing ever-so-slightly, suddenly a different man from the flustered one he was just a few seconds ago as he mutters, “I don’t think he’ll be back tonight.”

“Aww, must be some important business.”

He clenches his jaw aggressively at that, gritting out a clipped little, “You do know that ‘business’ of his is his secretary right?”

“I know. What a shame, right? Guess I’ll just have to go home n’ wait for him then?” you mockingly sigh - God, someone give you an Oscar. Moving to close the door in Satoru’s face, only to be stopped by a large hard smacking into the doorframe - as you knew it would.

“You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m gonna let you come out looking like that and let you go home without tearing it to shreds.”

And that’s all that is said before his lips are on yours.

The door is slamming shut before you know it, and you’re shoved against it. Satoru’s lips such a sloppy mix of teeth and spit. Hands just everywhere - cradling your cheek, teasing your nipples through your bra, running down to squeeze and grope your ass. He just couldn’t get enough of you.

Fuck twiddling with the lace, Satoru seemed well and fully intent to rip it off of you. And you’d let him. Just like he was letting you shove his overpriced button-up down his toned shoulders. Soft little rips sounding in the heady air at the urgency but neither of you could give less of a fuck.

All you could think of is the way Satoru was so pretty and muscled. Drinking in all the dips and curves of pale skin underneath your fingertips.

“Fuck, princess. Chose this color on purpose, huh?” his fingers dive under the hem of your bra, “Wanted to drive me crazy, mm?”

“Y-yes, Satoru.” you gasp into his mouth, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss. “Wanted you to look at it. Got it custom-made all f’you.” words muffled as he sucks on your tongue. Satoru was always such a messy kisser, licking at the seam of your lips and intertwining his tongue with yours with no shame or shyness. A delicate trail of drool already starting at the corner of your mouth.

Ah, it was too much for him. Satoru almost thinks he could cum in his pants right now at your sinful little admission.

Which is why he pulls away to press hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, letting out a broken little hum of appreciation into your skin. “Thought so.”

And then your bra’s hitting the floor, tits spilling out into the cold bedroom air. But only for a split-second because Satoru’s immediately groping each and every inch of skin he can find.

“Look so fucking beautiful like this.” Rolling your swollen nipples between two fingers as he mutters - more to himself than you, “Was gonna let him see you in this slutty lil’ thing, too?” leaning down to tongue lazily little circles on one nipple. Words muffled as he wraps his lips so prettily around your tit - tugging, just grazing with his teeth, “Matching my eyes, huh? Fuckin’ gonna be the death of me shit-”

Satoru was insatiable. Wanting all of you all at the same time. And you follow his line of sight to see him locked on your dripping cunt - soaking through the thin fabric of your panties. Clenching around nothing as his pretty pink lips fall into a soft oh! at the sight.

Like a madman, he immediately drops to his knees. But you don’t think he even feels the pain as he bites down on the hem of your wet panties. Looking up at you with dazed eyes - miles away.

Breath ghosting your quivering cunt, tugging lightly with his teeth, “Next time, I’m gonna be the one buying you these.”

Then he’s pulling - tearing your drenched panties to shreds. Grinning so devilishly around it as he gets his first sight of your pretty pussy. Oh you were so perfect for him. So mouthwateringly wet.

“Shit, princess. Can’t believe you were fucking holdin’ out on me.” he muses in wonder, eyes wide at the way your sloppy pussy was glistening in the dim lighting.

“You were the one that-”

And usually, Satoru loves hearing you run your mouth, but this time he’s shutting you up by diving face-first into your dripping cunt. Cute little mewls leaving you as he presses so shamefully deep that his nose was against your throbbing clit, rubbing languidly as he licks a thick stripe up your swollen folds.

And then it was like something snapped.

Because one taste of you and Satoru’s going wild. Throwing a leg over his shoulder to lick more desperately all all over your cunt, lapping up all the juices that gush out of you. Already so addicted because shit you were so much sweeter than in his dreams.

“Ah! Hngh- please.” you mewl, as he wraps his glossy lips around your swollen clit. All you get is a feral little grunt, his jaw parted, eyes looking like he’s on cloud nine as starts to suck harshly. Filthy little squelches filling the air as Satoru rolls his tongue across your clit. “Feels, s’good, Satoru.”

But your cute little whines turn into one of disappointment as Satoru pulls away ever-so-slightly. “Call m’Toru.” he slurs.

And he doesn’t waste any more time, tongue swishing in his mouth to spit on you once. Twice. Missing ever so slightly, and splattering on your thigh. You flinch, gasping out a breathless little, “Toru!”

“Oh shit, princess. Yeah- say m’name jus’ like that” he groans, ragged and raw. The last thing out of his mouth before he’s squeezing his soft tongue into your snug cunt. Dipping into your sloppy hole in and out in and out in and-

“He ever made you feel this good?” he moans into your cunt, the vibrations making you fuck yourself deeper into his unrelenting tongue.

“W-what?”

“He ever made you feel this good? Cum so hard you see stars?”

You gasp out a pathetic little sob, “N-no. Want to- Wan’ you to make me cum, Toru. Make me cum around your tongue.”

And, well, what his girl wants - then she’s going to get. Because Satoru’s lapping at your cunt even more greedily than before.

Stretching you out, breathing you in, looking up at your cute expression through his long lashes. Already so fucked-out for him.

Nose rubbing purposefully in small circles on your clit. Fucking you with his tongue the way he wants to with his cock and he didn’t give a fuck if he suffocated in-between your thighs - he fucking loved it.

“Hngh- shit shit shit yes!” your nails are digging into Satoru’s scalp at this point. The only thing steadying yourself to prevent you from collapsing onto the ground. And you really can’t help but angle his head just right so that his tongue curls against that one spot inside your plushy walls.

Thankfully, he gets the memo. Because Satoru’s letting out a strangled little grunt at being so used by you as you drag your cunt across his pretty mouth. Body jerking into his as he hits that spot over and over-

“T-Toru- hah!” thighs quivering, Satoru’s grip bruising as he holds you up. “M’m gonna-” Your plushy walls sucking him up, thighs squeezing around his face.

“Mhm?”

“Cum! M’gonna cum- ah- fuck fuck fuck-”

He groans huskily into your cunt. Throwing his head back ever-so-slightly to let your slick slide down his throat - greedily waiting for more that was to come. “Then show me how you cum, m’girl. Cum all over my tongue.”

And then you are - all over Satoru’s pretty face. And fuck he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked prettier. Holding his head in place as you rock your hips into his waiting mouth, letting him drink you in so greedily. Clamping down on his tongue like you were trying to milk him.

And if you were in any better state of mind, you’d notice the delirious little heart eyes that Satoru was giving you, your cunt firm on his face and swollen lips letting out such pretty whines of his name. Toru Toru Toru - like a prayer as you fucking use him for your high.

Ah, he could stay like this forever, he thinks. But no, an empty house and you all wet n’ pretty for him means there’s too much more to do.

Which is why he’s pulling away, your slick decorating his lips so prettily. Smeared across the bottom half of his face and dripping onto the hardwood floor in a maddening little drip! drip! drip!

And Satoru knows, with the way you watch him so intensely, mouth parted, eyes glossy. Which is why he runs a thumb along his mouth, pooling your juices on his fingers and popping them into his mouth. One by one.

Your jaw drops a little in disbelief as Satoru licks his fingers clean, eyes rolling to the back of his head at your addictive taste. Oh he was ruining you without even touching you.

“Not enough, princess.” he chuckles. “C’mon, gimme a kiss.”

And, really, how could you ever say no to that face? Because you’re pulling him to you as soon as Satoru stands to his full height. Capturing his lips in such a sloppy, filthy kiss - forcing you to taste yourself and you half-lucidly wonder whether Satoru loved the taste almost as much as you because it was so him.

Bodies so close that your dripping cunt was seeping into his unfairly tight shirt. Forming a lewd little dark patch when Satoru lifts you effortlessly to guide you to the bed. Tongue still entwining obscenely with yours as he splays you out on the soft mattress for him. Drinking in that adorable lil’ shock on your face as you bounce on the bed, so drunk off of him that you didn’t even realize he was taking you to the bed.

“Shit, y’look the prettiest like this, princess. S’a wonder m’not fucking passing out right now.” he hisses into your lips.

“Toru-” you whine, and shit the way his cock jumps at the mere sound of your voice makes you think that this will be a little trick you’re using more often. “Wan’ your cock s’bad. Wanna-”

You don’t even have the patience to finish the sentence before you’re fumbling with his belt. Something hefty and overpriced but you can’t possibly think about that right now because fuck you get the first sliver of milky skin.

Satoru’s thighs were so sculpted and thick. It made your mouth absolutely water to wonder what it would feel like to ride them to insanity.

“Y’wanna ride my thighs? Fuck princess, you really are driving me crazy.”

Shit had you said that out loud?

Ah, well, it doesn’t matter because Satoru’s pulling his boxers down - so tight with his swollen cock, a dark patch right where his weeping head was. And you almost pout at losing the opportunity to take them off but oh how you’re distracted by the sinful sight before you.

Satoru was massive - so long and flushed your favorite shade of pretty pink. Shit, you were going to have to get a lingerie set in this color one of these days. He was achingly hard and throbbing, springing up to smear precum all over his abs.

And before you can even react, Satoru’s pulling you to him. Manhandling your pretty self so easily to straddle one, large thigh.

“Oh- hngh, Toru.” you look up at him all doe-eyed and teary as he doesn’t even wait for you to register what’s all happening. Grip bruising on your hips as he rocks your hips so sluttily on his leg. “F-feels s’good. Ah-”

“Yeah? Y’like it? Like getting yourself off like a lil’ slut on my thigh?” he groans into your ear, low and husky with need.

You nod wildly, sloppy pussy dripping all over his thigh, seeping into his skin as you grind your hips to meet his movements. “Like it s’much- ah-”

“Mhm? Better than anything he could ever do?”

“Yes yes yes, Toru-” you sob, cheeks burning as you realize that you’re humping him like a bitch in heat - but oh judging by the carnal little glint in his eyes, he liked it. Loved it, even. Because Satoru could feel the way your swollen folds spread to grind against him, clit pulsing so maddeningly against his skin. So filthy and messy as you used him to get yourself off. “S’much better- the best-”

He just didn’t expect to feel a soft hand wrapping around his cock. Eyes flying open to see you - all glassy-eyed, and fucking yourself on his thigh - wrap a hand around his cock. Starting to move in shallow, unsteady little motions up and down his throbbing cock to get him off at the same time as you.

“Wan’ you to cum, too, Toru.”

“Oh fuck.” he grunts, letting his hips fuck up into your fist in mindless little motions. “Y’don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

And with that his fingers were digging into the skin of your hips, forcing you to hold on for dear life as he drags your dripping cunt faster and faster across his thick. Movements erratic and frenzied now.

Of course, you were not one to be out-done.

Satoru’s precum spilling down your hand, your wrist now aching and wet, becoming so, so sloppy trying to get both yourselves off. But you still tighten your fist around his pulsing cock, desperately flying up and down his length. Pulling in quick, jerky motions to milk him for all he’s worth again and again and-

“You’re so oh- good f’me, princess.” he hums. “Your hngh- hands are so p-pretty wrapped around my cock. So perfect for me.” Bucking his hips wildly to meet your hand now, fucking your fist with no shame. Pulling you harsher on his thigh. “S’such a shame you had to hah fuck- meet my father first. I’d have been so much better.”

“Toru!” you squeal as one hand moves deftly from your hips to draw quick, hasty little circles on your throbbing clit. The friction from his thigh and fingers too much to handle.

“I’d make you happier.” Your body is shaking now, hands messy and trembling around his swollen cock. “I’d make you laugh more and give you all m’time.” You can’t even look at him at this point, eyes scrunched close in ecstasy as Satoru whispers these maddening little phrases into your open mouth.

“I’d make you cum harder.”

Oh and then you are - tears in your eyes, body convulsing into his as you cum. And of course he’s smirking smugly as he watches you ride your high out on his thigh, brows furrowed and bottom lip bitten in concentration as he holds off cumming. Not now. Not yet.

“So, better than him or not?”

But shit was it hard.

Especially when you raise your pretty, barely-lucid eyes to meet his, whimpering out a soft little, “I don’ know yet, Toru. Gonna hafta stuff me full of your cock if you wanna know.”

And perhaps for the first time since you walked in on him after the shower that night, the great Gojo Satoru is taken aback. Eyes widening in surprise, kiss-bitten lips falling into a soft oh! of disbelief. But not for long - never for long - because a devilish little grin breaks out across his face immediately afterwards.

“Shit, y’really are perfect f’me, princess.”

With a low growl, Satoru is easily pulling your body - limp and boneless in his hands - to straddle his toned hips.

You let out a yelp at the feeling of his fat tip just kissing your swollen folds, dragging teasingly along them, collecting the slick beading out of your sloppy cunt. Back and forth-

“Who’s got you feeling this way?”

“You, Toru.”

And then he’s pushing in, swollen cock bullying into your snug pussy. Thumbs drawing steady little circles on your hips - yes to reassure you but also to fight off that feral little part of himself that just wants to stuff your pretty lil’ pussy full until his heavy balls smack your ass. Not even waiting for you to adjust.

But no. No, it was so much better when you were the one desperately trying to suck up his cock. Gasping and moaning out strangled little whimpers of his name as you sink yourself down on his throbbing dick. Inch by fucking inch.

“S’too big- Hngh! I-is it even halfway in?” you whimper out, and Satoru could almost laugh humorlessly as he tilts his head to glance downwards and shit- he was barely a quarter in.

“No.”

“F-fuck” cute little tears streaking down your face now, thighs trembling, “Toru, I-I don’t think I can-”

“You can. And you will.” Fucking up into you in short, rapid little jabs to squeeze himself deeper into your tight pussy. Shit, it was such a squeeze, you were milking the ever-loving soul out of him. And it only made him impossibly harder inside you, making you whine and grind down - torn between chasing the feeling of being so deliciously full and the sheer pressure. “Shit, love when your pussy’s sucking me up so good.”

One hand is on your hip, sliding you farther and farther down his cock, the other drawing urgent, quick patterns on your clit. Not even circles anymore because shit Satoru doesn’t have the patience nor the sanity for that. Throbbing veins rubbing so sinfully against that one spot in your dripping cunt, splitting you apart to the same rhythm as the pulsing.

And as soon as your ass meets his heavy balls - already so wet with precum and slick - Satoru doesn’t even know if he’s on planet Earth anymore. Mind spinning, he doesn’t waste any time at all.

“Fuck yes.” Satoru hisses, throwing his head back. “Fucking finally.” He pulls his hips back, far enough that his angry, red tip is just kissing your sloppy entrance, surging forward, forward, forward- “Y’don’t know how fucking long I’ve wanted this, princess. Needed this s’bad, so so bad you don’t understand. Shit.”

And, hey, his girl deserved to be fucked dumb, right?

“Needed this ever since I saw you at that goddamn gala.” he whispers into your lips, ragged and so fucked-out. Each word punctuated by a harsh, heavy thrust. Ones that have you keening and grasping Satoru’s broad back for support. Nails raking down his shoulders as his pace gets faster. More purposeful.

And you can do nothing but take it, barely even able to form any coherent sentences. So prettily sat on Satoru’s lap as he fucks into you, babbling sweet little nonsenses made for your ears only. “Ever since I saw that murderous little glare you threw at those snobby guests.”

His balls smacking against your ass over and over. A quick, steady little tempo that you were losing your mind to. “Ever since you let me take your hand and drag you away to that secret bar to take shots instead of champagne.”

You don’t know whether you’re even crying at this point - all you know is that your cheeks are wet and your voice is broken as your let out a little, “F-fuck, Satoru- but your fa-”

“Fuck that.” he whines, and you could almost laugh at the adorable pout that makes its way onto his face. And at that you can feel him jolt so deliciously, head snapping up to meet yours. “I’m the better one.”

And as if he’s trying to prove it to your cunt, he’s drilling into you faster. Harder. Hips burning now as he fucks you like some animal. Hitting that sweet spot over and over. “I’m the one with the personality and the looks.” Long fingers almost a blur on your clit as he matches his place. Cock hot, and throbbing inside you.

“I’m the heir, I get the company, too, if that’s what you like.” He’s bouncing you on his cock animalistically now. Hungry gaze taking in the way you’re sucking him up so well. “And I’m funnier one, I’m the one that should be by your side.”

You see stars behind your eyes at both the pleasure and sheer overstimulation as Satoru starts fucking your cunt as best he could without fucking breaking you - but, honestly, he didn’t give a shit if you cried. He just wanted to stuff you full and have you cum harder than you ever have in your life.

“Fuck- fuck yes m’gonna cum Toru- hngh.” You pull him closer to you, allowing him to bury his face in the crook of your neck. “M-make ah! Make me cum, fill me up please, Toru.”

You feel him shudder inside you, balls squeezing so painfully. Hips sloppy and absolutely soaked with precum and slick. “Sh-shit, you’re not too good for m’heart. Ngh, f-fuck- I should be the one to make you cum. Over and over until you don’t know what it feels like to not.”

“Toru!” your eyes fly open, “Yes yes yes- it’s you. Only you-”

Oh, like something snapped then Satoru’s surging forward to bite down on the crook of your neck. Hard. You’d almost think he was out to draw blood. And then with a low groan, and one, harsh little thrust, Satoru’s cumming and cumming inside your pretty pussy. And you are too - back arching as you milk his cock through his high.

Fingers digging into your skin as he holds your hips to his, letting your cunt be filled up so sloppily. Pumping thick, hot ropes of seed that dribbled out of you each time he pumped his hips into yours. Fucking it deeper and deeper inside you.

And then you’re both collapsing, the exhaustion suddenly hitting the both of you as Satoru moves you both to lay on the mattress. Fuck, Satoru watches in wonder as his cum gushes out of you and forms a wet little pool on the expensive sheets as he starts to pull out. One round might just not be enough.

Yet not yet - he can feel his eyes drooping, muscles aching as he pulls your sticky body closer to his. And Satoru knows he should get up and wipe you both down. But right now, he’s too drunk off the heat of your body and that angry little bite on your neck. Distracted by the cute lil’ expression on your face, so tired and thoroughly fucked out. Fingers playing with his hair, looking at him with an expression so fond - just like in his dreams.

Nothing more is said. And all is quiet in your strange little heaven.

That is, until - “So, princess. Wouldn’t ya wanna be an heiress instead of a sugar baby?”

A/N. How we feeling???

Plagiarism not authorized.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #tonywrites

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boobearymuch · 6 months ago

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Their Favorite Underwear (On You) —♡ LADS Headcanons

—♡Summary: They certainly have interesting preferences, that's for sure. —♡Tags: NSFW, suggestive, sex implied, afab!reader, no pronouns used, fingering, panty sniffing/licking —♡A/N: done staring at this I'm throwing it out into the wild —♡ masterlist

—♡ Caleb

Caleb’s favorite pair of underwear on you is somewhat an innocent pick. A worn out pair of cotton panties you’ve had since high school.

They have some kind of pattern—either horizontal stripes, flowers, a repeating print of the cookie monster—doesn’t matter, he loves it all.

They remind him of simpler times—laundry day when you were younger—and how they’d get caught up in his own load by accident. You’d flush bright red when he stopped by your door to drop them off, but he’d just throw his head back with a laugh and tell you it's fine.

He’s never told you how close he came to pocketing them instead.

In the present, he’s found himself on laundry duty again. The colonel is dumping your basket of dirty clothes into the washer when a familiar pair of cotton panties fall in.

He doesn’t even bother looking around; Caleb reaches for them, breath hitching when he realizes they’re the same pair from before. He can’t believe you still have them. You really ought to buy some new clothes…

Something dark—hot—coils in his belly when he turns the gusset inside out and lifts the fabric to his trembling lips.

It smells divine—a little on the tangy side, but he’ll make sure you drink more water from here on out.

Then his tongue finally laps at the inner lining, and Caleb’s eyes practically roll into the back of his head.

His hips jerk against the washing machine just thinking about sinking his tongue into your actual—

Your voice abruptly floats down the hall, some question he can barely hear, and Caleb tells you he’ll be right there.

Perhaps he will pocket these for later, after all…

—♡ Xavier

Xavier’s favorite pair of underwear on you…is actually his own.

His boxer briefs are basically yours at this point.

When you sleep over and need a change of clothes, he just lets you borrow his; which is how you end up in an oversized shirt and boxer briefs in the first place.

Seeing you in his clothes is a thrill of its own, but seeing you in his underwear?

It’s an entirely new level of intimacy that has his ears burning red and his slow heart skipping a beat.

You wouldn’t wear just anyone’s underwear to bed, you’re wearing his.

He gets oddly clingy when you do, sliding in behind you in bed and nuzzling your shoulder as you scroll through your phone.

You make some comment about a post you saw, but he’s hardly listening. Instead, his hand is sliding down your hip, stroking the fabric of his underwear and the heat of your skin. It brings a soft smile to his lips.

Xavier can’t help but think the slit of his boxer briefs is silly on you, sliding his fingers inside to gently stroke your pubes. It’s usually innocent, he just likes the texture.

But the hitch of your breath darkens his gaze, and Xavier gently coaxes you to continue scrolling as his hand sinks lower…

He hums in response to your little moan, fingers curling up into your slick heat. His other hand reaches around to take the phone out of your faltering grip and slams it against the nightstand.

Xavier’s selfish, he admits—he doesn’t want you distracted by anything else while you’re wearing his clothes, his underwear…

You need to borrow another pair of boxer briefs by the time he’s done with you.

—♡ Zayne

Zayne’s favorite pair of underwear on you is not one you expected—thongs. He’s secretly crazy for them. Well, that might be an overstatement—but he enjoys the sight of you in them very much.

You’re surprised to learn about Zayne’s preference, though he doesn’t readily disclose it at first. You have to feign trouble picking between two sets of underwear first, and shove your phone into his face for an opinion.

“...The one on the right.” The cool response is only betrayed by a fervent blush on his cheeks.

He likes slipping his fingers under the thin string, teasing and tugging. It leaves very little to the imagination; straight to the point.

Your order comes in, and Zayne secretly watches you slide them up your legs as you both get ready for a banquet. It’s all his mind keeps wandering back to throughout the night.

Not only are you wearing underwear he picked out, but you’re wearing them to mingle with his colleagues. A rather distracting thought, isn’t it?

At one point during the night, you bend over to grab something, and the lack of a panty line reminds Zayne all over again what you’re sporting underneath.

He approaches calmly, interrupting a conversation with his colleagues by wrapping an arm around your waist.

His excuse to leave early is well thought out—you suspect he’s had it in mind since arriving—but you’re barely listening when his hand wanders low.

It slides down your backside, and he absently thumbs the string of your thong through the fabric of your dress.

…The car ride home is a short one, to say the least.

—♡ Sylus

If you asked Sylus, he’d say he prefers you in no underwear at all.

But, if he had to choose, he’s rather fond of a simple red lace. Comfortable, practical, sexy.

Not to mention, red is absolutely your color. The fact that it’s his too is merely a…happy coincidence.

When he’s stocking up your closet in the N109 zone, Sylus makes sure to order only the best luxury brands exclusively in various shades of red.

The idea of you sauntering around base in his color is enough to make him purr at the sight of you, even when your underwear isn’t visible.

He makes a game out of guessing what pair you have on; is it the scarlet one with bows? Or perhaps the strappy maroon?

Sylus finds out at dinner; you’re laughing at some ridiculous story when you uncross your legs, and there’s a flash of vermilion underneath your skirt.

The one with heart cutouts? My my, you only wear that one when you want something…

His eyes roam you up and down as you continue your story, but you stumble over your words when a swirling red mist drags your chair closer to his.

You were quite bold for wearing such a bright color in public, and if anyone other than him was to catch sight of it…

Well, we can’t have that, can we?

Your breath hitches when his hand roams your thigh, smug eyes never leaving yours. His calloused fingers ghost the hem of your skirt, and your words trail off in anticipation of what’s to come next.

Sylus grips the fabric and tugs your skirt…down.

Your face burns as he leans back with a chuckle, “You were saying?

—♡ Rafayel

Rafayel’s favorite pair of underwear? Brazilian panties, next question.

They sit high above your hip bones while accentuating the curve of your tummy; absolutely divine.

Of course, you look divine in everything; hell, you’d look perfect in only a seashell to cover your modesty. But something about the aesthetic of these panties, specifically, gets him insanely hot and bothered.

He brings you back gifts from his trip overseas, but he flushes and fervently denies having anything to do with the three pairs of panties tucked behind the body lotions and skincare.

Rafayel quickly changes his tune when you suggest modelling them for him, though.

That’s how you end up changing into them right then and there, a minty lace pair with a little satin rose sewn to the front. You rejoin Rafayel, who’s been waiting patiently on his bed.

Rafayel can’t speak, only tugs the back of your thigh closer as he swallows thickly.

Your pubes peek out the sides due to the nature of the design, and you make an offhand comment about shaving the next time you wear them. Rafayel immediately shakes his head—as if offended—and grips the sides of your hips, thumbs hiking the side wings further up.

He flushes, and his nostrils flare right before he lowers his head to lick a stripe up your lace front.

His tongue burns through the fabric, and the Lemurian lets out a shuddering breath against your stomach. You barely register the chill down your spine when he licks you again, this time his teeth catching on the waistband.

You never get to try the other two pairs on for him…

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sh1-n0bu · 7 months ago

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♡︎ 𝙖𝙬𝙤𝙤𝙜𝙖𝙨! ♡︎

characters: sub!big men x gn!dom!reader

warnings: cock/strap/dick traditions, boob fucking, cumming on face, body, feminization, size difference, mentions of pregnancy, dumbification, lactation, feminine language used for the characters (princess, womb, maiden etc so pls tread with caution if that ain’t ur thing), read with optional bias character in mind

notes: nobu finally posting smt??????? nobu actually writing for once???????????? also this is just my obsession with boobs talking. dividers from cafekitsune. manga color tint by me

big men! with big chests that gets mistaken or joked of it being boobs by close friends and colleagues, who had gotten used to it. who at first used to get all blushy blushy but nowadays just shrugs it off with a disgruntled huff of “knock it off”

big men! who didn’t really see much problem when you started to favor their chest more, eventually opting to use them as a pillow rather than use your actual pillow since it gives them the advantage of falling asleep with you on top of them and they got to cuddle with you all night. a win-win situation in his book, as he could be quite clingy when behind closed doors. who laughs sometimes at the silliness of you smothering your face in between his chests, finding your obsession with his pecs to be endearing

big men! who didn’t realize how sensitive their chest could be until you decide to show it to them. squeezing, fondling the large muscles, tweaking his cute nipples occasionally and making him jolt in place with a cute blush covering his ears and cheeks. so adorable, like a meager bunny when he was nearly twice your size and could probably crush a grown man’s skull in with their hand

big men! who get so worked up over the dirty words you whisper when you pinch his hardened nipples, your words of “i could make your chest lactate”, “your boobs feel so heavy, darling”, “such a nice big tits you have” making him whine in the back of his throat, shaking his head as he shakily denies that “t-they’re not b-boobs… y-you nngh know that…”

big men! who gets manhandled by your smaller frame to lay on their backs, a cute surprised “eengk!” escaping his swollen lips as he looks up at you, pushing his tight shirt up until they’re resting over his chest, showing the big muscles you love so much. who cutely whine and wriggle in place under you as your fingers bully his hardened buds, pinching at the cute pinks, tugging on them before letting go, a noise of awe leaving your lips at the way his chest fucking jiggles while your bf could only jolt with words of “c-cruel… you’re so cruel to me. pu-unhh puppYAGH!”

big men! who get fucked stupid, brain churning into a mush by only having his nipples played with. pinched, tugged, even bitten till your fangs and teeth leaves a round mark closed around his areola that he slurs is too deep, acting like he is getting his tight hole spread open and fucked by your cock. whose face is so cutely flushed, eyes dazed over as he breathes heavily of “wan’ moowr.. ungh h-haah… annh♡︎ m-more please? touch me.. to-ouch me moore”

big men! who act like a sweet virgin who never got himself fucked by you when you kick off your pants, hardened cock already springing out and slapping against his cute boobs. who stare at your oozing tip with gaping mouth, letting out stuttered questions of “w-what… whaddaya doin’? h-hunny, noouw… no, don’t—♡︎!” before squealing when you squeeze his chest together, rutting your strap in between them

big men! who act like they have never seen your cock, never tasted it or even deep throated it before, acting like he never once took your dildo into his pretty hole until his legs shook as you fuck his boobs, moaning loudly like the cute bunny he is. who opens his mouth, jaw shaking as fat tears collect in his big doe eyes, messily sucking the tip, getting drunk on the taste of your pre already when you politely ask him to suck you off

big men! whose hands shakily grasp your ass, unintentionally helping you fuck their tits even more, pushing your strap even deeper inside his mouth as if he wanted you to just let go of their boobs and just fuck their throat instead. who lets out a cute confused noise, mouth full of your cock, batting his lashes up at you like the pretty little thing he is when you move his trembling hands to hold his boobs together instead of your ass. who tries to speak words of not knowing how to do it, still mouthful, as you give a tug to his cute bitten nipple, making him squeak

big men! who meagerly tries to fuck your cock in between his mounds, choking on your tip when you tilt his head down just enough so he could also suck you off, acting as if you just shoved your entire strap down his throat and was keeping it there, snuggly shutting him up. a whiny bf whose tears finally fall when you cum into his hot mouth, dropping of your cock when you came as if he was never drunk on the taste of your seeds before, letting some of it shoot over his face and hair instead. a hunky beast of a man, sniffling like a baby when he notices the mess you made of him, who dares to give you a half assed glare as if you forced him to make a mess

big men! who gets addicted to boob fucking after that one time thing, constantly thinking back on the feeling of squishing his own chest together to fuck your dick for you. whose hands finds themselves wandering to his pecs more often, pushing them together and moving them in soft round circles as if you would suddenly appear and fill the empty space between his boobs. who finds himself messing with his nipples over the tight fit of his shirt, finding himself to be perverted as he gets turned on by just fondling with his chest

big men! who, unable to keep teasing themselves anymore, start to touch themselves when you’re away on work or whatever. more specifically, their chests. rutting his clothed, hardened cock against a pillow that is squished between his thighs, tweaking at his nipples and tugging on them — just like how you do it — before letting go with a whimper. it hurt, but it also felt so good, he could feel his precum already wetting his boxers

big men! who finds out that his constant arousal by his nipples was a bad idea, as now every time he wears a tight shirt or compression vest, his nipples are rubbed and he finds himself getting horny. who, in desperation, decides to tenderly tape the cute pink nubs with a band aid, pouting to himself about how you were slowly but surely turning him into a perv

big men! who now finds it much easier to use his boobs to fuck you, quick to drop down to their knees in front of your clothed crotch, kissing the hidden thighs and inhaling at your natural scent with a love stricken look in their eyes. a cute, desperate bf who kisses your strap, rubbing you with his hands to try and get you hard as quick as possible. who hook their shirt over their chest, intentionally pushing his boobs together with his hands on his knees, creating the effect of round shaped breasts

big men! who impatiently watches until your cock is free, taking it into his mouth the moment you slide down your undergarments, suckling at the head just like how you enjoy it. who push you down to sit, so he could climb onto your lap, pushing his chest together so he could fuck your strap with his boobs, determined that now he had learned a good technique to make you feel good. who is quick to take the head of your dildo into his mouth, swiping the gathered pre with a pleased hum, looking up at your through his thick lashes with a drunken giggle before pulling away to spit on your hard on

big men! who drunkenly take the head of your strap into their hot mouth, suckling away at the delicious precum, unafraid to slobber all over your cock and his chest as he slowly moves the big muscles in a circular motion. who giggles in delight at your words of praise and groans, the tip of your cock that is still in his mouth vibrating with his drunk laughter. beefy bf who eagerly lap away at your cock head, slurping at the mess he made of his own drool and your precum before taking it back into his mouth, hollowing out his cheeks for you. only for you♡︎

big men! who pulls away again when you cum, watching with a cute mix of fascination and lewd anticipation as your hot cum shoots all over his jaws and chest, painting his skin in white. massaging your balls and stroking you through it all, opening his mouth slack as he stares up at you with hazed eyes, letting the last few drops shoot into his awaiting tongue, licking at his full lips with a pleasured hum. the salty, slightly sweet taste, a familiar one that he had gotten drunk on within the first round

big men! who straddle your lap, rubbing your wet strap on the round curve of his ass with a giddy giggle, feeling how the slippery wet tip doesn’t enter his tight hole without helping hands. finally, grasping at your dick with his hand, giving it a few strokes before pressing the tip against his entrance. your sweet bf who decide to be bold, sinking down onto your cock with one swift movement, a choked sob getting stuck in his throat at the sudden feeling of being “f-fughkk♥︎ a-aah haah mnngh♡︎ shooo fu-ull.. gut’s so ffuul of m-my [name]♥︎”

big men! who ride your dick all night, even as his muscles strain and his brain gets fucked into a stupid mush, slurring words of love and lust, saying all sorts of lewd things through his cum and drool covered pink lips as the kissable looking pair of muscles turn into a cute drunken smile. beefy big bf whose tits bounce all the while, their cute jiggles every time they sink down into your dick hypnotizing you to only focus on them. an adorable squeal escaping him as you tear away the band aids from his nipples, the stimulated nubs all hard and blush red as they greet you

big men! who squeeze their breast, forefinger and thumb squeezing around his nipple, as he grins at you with blown wide heart shaped eyes. “a-ain’t they cute…? dontcha wanna suck-unghk suck on them?” he asks, squishing his mound softly with a near delirious grin on his face. “come owwnn, don’t my [name] wanna taste my milk♡︎?”

big men! who lets out a pleased wet sob when you do give in, suckling, biting, squeezing at his jiggling boobs as he starts to bounce on your cock with a more fervent pace. who cries out at it being painful when you leave another teeth mark around his nub, one of his hands placed over his chest like one of the scared damsels in paintings. who slur out words of not being a damsel, of being a maiden, shaking his head as if he actually understood anything

big men! who gets their wombs filled with your cum for nth time that night, feeling his stomach start to bloat at the sheer amount he greedily took into his eager hole. fucked dumb bf who shakes his head at your words of getting off, refusing to lose the warmth in his stretched hole and filled stomach. who only notices when you pointed out, that his nipple was leaking, lactating a delicious white milk that dribbled down to his cum covered tummy. another drunk giggle follows, as he gets close to your ear to whisper a filthy slurred “now that i’m p-pregnant, my [name] better take responsibility♥︎”, having completely forgotten that he can’t get pregnant. but oh well, your beefy bf who is so adorable as he giddily speaks of carrying your young, rubbing at his belly with hearts swirling in his eyes, to the point you can’t bring yourself to correct him. only going slack on the couch with your sweet princess still on your lap

⇨ JOTUN LOKI, jiyan, diluc, alhaitham, CAPITANO, zhongli/rex lapis form, itto, wriothesley, JUNG YUAN, YINGXING, argenti, GALLAGHER, gepard, yhan, yuanwu, GLORFINDEL, maedhros, elu thingol, finarfin, FINROD, logan, thor, DIAVOLO, beelzebub, anubis (ennead), gyomei, YORIICHI, messmer the impaler + whoever you like!

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kiwiatoll · 7 days ago

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ONE NIGHT ONLY. 𝜗ৎ᭪ PARK SUNGHOON

he was the worst boy in high school, a little too pretty, way too cocky, and completely unbearable. you hated him. his smirks, his popularity, the way he said your name like it was a joke. now he’s a rising idol with a solo debut he thinks will change everything. and you? you’re the filmmaker hired to document it all. he remembers everything you said back then. and he’s still determined to make you pay for it. the hate still runs deep… but the desire runs deeper. between tight shooting schedules, shared hotel rooms, and buried tension, the camera sees it all. even the night he crawls into your bed — mouth full of vengeance, hands full of something else.

⠀ ✶‎ WARNINGS & THEMES

unresolved anger, emotional tension, past high school bullying, grudge-holding, arguments that turn sexual, thin walls, filming interviews with rising idols, trust issues, miscommunication, hate sex, a hard exterior but he’s actually very soft for you. smut with feelings, enemies to lovers sex (it’s biting and needy), Sunghoon is very talkative in bed, dirty talk, filmmaker!reader gets ruined on camera, unprotected sex, soft dom!Sunghoon, sub-leaning reader, yearning, creampie, fingering, oral (f&m receiving and giving), riding, clit stimulation, brief nipple play, handjob (pretty messy), aftercare because he’s obsessed.

𓏸 25,OOO+ 𝓛ibrary REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

’ 𝒏 ★ hey guys! sunghoons series won the poll so here is the masterlist for one night only, my sunghoon x reader fic with all the messy tension, behind-the-scenes drama, and a lot of steamy scenes hehe. just a heads up, there’s mature content, so read at your own pace and skip things in chapters that might be too much for you. your comfort is extremely important to me!! thank you so much for reading and sticking with me! can’t wait for you to see how everything unfolds !??? (also the other series be posted after this fic, cus theyre all too good to go to waste mwwhahahhaa)

ONE NIGHT ONLY — CHAPTER LOG

1 — roll the tape ✧ the boy i swore i’d never film again (soon)

flashback to high school, the very first time you crossed paths with sunghoon, the cocky, untouchable bad boy who always seemed just out of reach. from the moment you met, there was a sharp edge between you two, filled with teasing, biting remarks, and an undeniable tension that neither of you knew how to shake off.

　 WANT TO BE ON THE TAGLIST !?

if you want to join the tag list, and get updates for this series, send an ask or comment under this post and I’ll add you to the list :3

TAGS: @invsomnixa1 @mryeyy @xiaotheworld @heelvr78 @standisease @ineedthatsalsa @siyusiee @velvetkisscs @cheolaholic @hees-h0e @heelovesmeknot @dollvtte @diameuwu @tojiworshipper @m1kkso @jun2ki @toastmenace @12e45 @hii01mii @mymentalityprince @itzzhana05 @fancypeacepersona @enhypenlovre @kpopandprozac @doveblackboat @snghon @jong-caprio @hehdvhxjdbhywb @synielve @ivlai22 @heeseungissm @acidsoju @chobitos @yurisuperb @y04wonwon @katseye4mimi @hoonkishoe @enhastolemyheart @heedeungeon @imnotyizhuo @mahungexe @kittyjwon @beapa @engeneheree @s777athv @jkluvr @minniejenseo @fuevrois @skzenhalove @minie-rae — taglist is full

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witchywithwhiskey · 21 days ago

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🍻 beer and bad decisions 🍻

pairing: best friend!steve rogers x female reader

summary: you've been hooking up with your best friend, steve rogers, and when he walks you home after his birthday celebration, you end up drunkenly making out against your front door—which leads to some reckless decisions.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, pwp, porn with feelings, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, just the tip, drunken kissing that leads to sex (both are clear-headed by the time they get to sex though), consent checks, enthusiastic consent, dry humping, vaginal fingering, thigh riding, nipple play, cockwarming, sex toys, dirty talk, daddy kink, breeding kink, praise kink, brief degradation kink, begging teasing, pet names (sunshine, baby), aftercare, happy ending

word count: 7.3k

a/n: after angsting all week about what i was going to write for steve rogers' birthday, i had a stroke of inspiration yesterday and then i worked on editing this fic today—and i'm getting it posted just in time!! i really, really, really love this fic ☺️ i wanted to do something with 'drunk makeout session' and 'just the tip' and this idea came together so well it actually surprised me! it might be my favorite birthday fic for steve that i've written yet! so i hope y'all enjoy ♡

A cool breeze swept through the dimly lit Brooklyn street, rustling the leaves of the trees lining the sidewalk and chasing away some of the July humidity that clung to the late evening air.

An errant gust brushed along your legs, flirting with the edge of your dress as it swirled around your thighs. It teased you, as if hoping to catch your attention.

But you paid the summery breeze little mind. You had more important things to focus on, like drunkenly making out with your best friend, Steve Rogers, against the front door of the Brooklyn brownstone where you lived.

His big body was curled around yours, his thick, muscled arms feeling like bands of steel as they held you tight to his broad chest. His palms cradled your body, fingers splayed and digging into the bare skin of your back where your dress dipped low.

You could feel his need in every point of contact where he touched you, his hands clinging to you like he was afraid you’d be swept away on the summer breeze if he loosened his hold even a little bit.

The way he held you made you feral, ravenous. You’d never get enough of Steve Rogers, and if he let you go—even for a moment—your body would combust, leaving only ashes and devastation in your wake.

A moan dragged its way up your throat, spilling into Steve’s kiss.

He slipped his tongue past your lips, messily licking the filthy sound from your mouth. His hands slid down your spine, bunching in the sweet sundress clinging to your curves as he hauled you even closer, until there wasn’t any space remaining between you.

Steve’s rumbling groan tasted like beer and bad decisions, and you gulped it down eagerly.

The heady flavor of him went straight to your already hazy mind, making the edges of your mouth curl into a smile, before you met his tongue with your own, kissing him like you were starved for him.

Your fingers trailed up over Steve’s broad shoulders, reveling in the strength hidden just beneath the surface, before diving into his soft, blond hair. You raked your fingers through it greedily, mussing it up the way you’d wanted to all night.

It had been torture to keep your hands to yourself at the bar where all your friends had assembled to celebrate Steve’s birthday, but you and your best friend were still keeping your hookups a secret. You’d both agreed not to tell everyone and risk blowing up the friend group until you knew what you had was real.

It had occurred to you, though, while you’d been playing the part of the dutiful best friend and merely watching as Steve politely shrugged off the attention of other women that you were kidding yourself. What you felt for him was plenty real.

But you weren’t ready to have those thoughts yet, so you’d drowned your feelings in beer and tried to have a good night at your best friend’s birthday party.

Steve didn’t make it easy to not think about him. You caught him staring at you across the crowded bar too many times to count throughout the night, even as his friends tried to get him drunk by buying him birthday beers.

No matter what, though, Steve’s eyes always found you, and when the time came for everyone to go home, he’d insisted on walking you back to your Brooklyn brownstone.

You’d hardly lingered even a moment at your front door before you were kissing your best friend, abandoning the pretense that you didn’t want his kiss more than you needed air.

“Invite me inside, sunshine,” Steve growled against your mouth, his hips grinding the hot, hard length of himself into your belly. “Or I’m gonna fuck you against your front door.”

He sucked your lower lip into his mouth, dragging a whimper from you that had another, feral growl rumbling in his chest.

“Unless you wanna give your neighbors a little show?” he mumbled against your lip, laughter in the warmth of his tone.

You knew he was joking, but you still snorted at his suggestion. Your neighbors weren’t the type to take kindly to such a performance, but that wasn’t the real reason you didn’t like the idea—you didn’t want anyone else to see that side of Steve Rogers.

He was all for you.

“No way, Rogers,” you shot back, your voice dripping with breathy excitement even as you tried for a teasing tone. “This show’s all mine,” you said, your hand slipping down his chest and palming his cock possessively through his jeans.

Steve’s hips kicked forward, grinding his hardness into your palm. He tried to kiss you, but he let out a groan so tortured, you began to take pity on him.

“You wanna—” you started to say, then you remembered something crucial and a bolt of sense shot down your spine. Your body stiffened in your best friend’s arms.

Immediately, Steve eased back, giving you some space and straightening up so he could catch your eye. You’d known each other a long time, long enough that you could read the question in his blue eyes without him having to voice it.

“I don’t have any condoms,” you explained, your voice filled with anguish. “We used them up last week and I forgot to get more.” Hope made your body thrum as you asked, “Do you have any?”

Your best friend grimaced, his expression one of misery, and all the hope you’d felt a moment ago shattered. Steve’s head dropped, his forehead pressing to yours as he confirmed what you already knew.

“I don’t,” he said. “I meant to pick some up and forgot.”

You hummed in resigned acknowledgement, but even with that knowledge hanging in the air, you couldn’t seem to untangle yourself from Steve’s arms.

Your nails raked idly through the soft hair at the nape of his neck, and you breathed in the comforting scent of him—the cologne he always wore and the leather of his jacket.

Steve didn’t pull away either, holding you in his arms while his hands skimmed lightly up and down your back. Eventually, they settled on your waist, his fingers groping lazily at your soft curves.

Without saying anything, your bodies drifted closer together, as if your hearts and hips were magnetized and there was nothing either of you could do to resist the pull.

Steve’s bulge brushed teasingly against your belly, and heat surged through your body, making you suck in a sharp breath as you pressed closer on purpose.

He was so big, his shoulders so broad. His hardness was so hot and thick against your stomach.

You and Steve had been hooking up for a few months—ever since that fateful night when you’d leaned in to kiss him on the cheek after he’d walked you home, and you’d ended up kissing him on the lips.

Even so many weeks later, you weren’t sure if he’d turned his head or you’d somehow missed. Personally, you suspected it was a combination of both, your bodies giving in to the attraction you’d both kept secret for years.

But it didn’t matter, because that accidental kiss had led to more, and the two of you had been hooking up every chance you got ever since.

And that meant you knew all too well how good Steve’s cock felt inside you while he was wearing a condom—and you imagined he probably felt even better bare.

In your opinion, your best friend’s cock was perfect.

He was big and thick and filled you so good, stretching you out to make room for him without hurting you. And if it was that good when he wore a condom, you knew that letting Steve Rogers bury his cock in your cunt without anything between you would be amazing.

It could even be life-changing…

“Y’know there’s plenty we can do without condoms,” Steve said, tearing you from your dangerous thoughts and towing you back into the moment.

His big hands were sliding around to your ass, his fingers digging in so he could hike you up against his thigh, which he pushed between your legs.

“Bet I could get you off without even putting it inside.”

Steve’s smirking mouth found yours and he kissed you deeply, his lips sliding slowly against yours as he guided your hips to rock against him. He knew exactly what he was doing, angling you just right so your pussy dragged against the hard denim of his jeans and the thick muscle beneath.

When your clit bumped against his hip, you tore your mouth from Steve’s with a gasp, but he only let out a low growl and chased after you, drinking down the sound like a starving man.

You moaned your pleasure into your best friend’s mouth, feeling the tantalizing breeze swirling around your bare legs, teasing against the heat between your thighs.

Already, you could feel yourself making a mess of your panties, soaking through the thin fabric to the point that you worried you’d leave a wet spot on Steve’s jeans with how tightly your soft, sodden pussy was pressed against his leg.

You knew Steve was right—he could absolutely make you come just by having you hump his thigh, but it was a special day and that didn’t seem good enough.

“But it’s your birthday,” you whined, pulling back enough to pout up at your best friend, giving him your best pleading, puppy dog look. “I want to give you more than some dry-humping, at least let me give you a birthday bj.”

“Baby,” Steve cooed admonishingly, sending sparks of pleasure dancing in your head. “There’s nothing dry about what I wanna do with you,” he rumbled, his hand sliding down your ass and slipping under your dress, finding the drippy slit between your thighs from behind.

The moment Steve’s fingers brushed against your aching core, you buried your face in his shoulder, muffling the obscene moan that spilled from your lips. Your body flushed hot, your muscles spasming as you tried to hump against his thigh and push back against his fingers at the same time.

Steve was stubborn when he wanted to prove a point, so his fingers pressed deeper, pushing your panties into your drippy, throbbing heat. He rubbed his fingertips along your soaking wet slit, rumbling a sound of deep male satisfaction in his broad chest.

“See, sunshine, you’re already fucking soaked for me,” Steve purred, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “It’d be a shame to let this go to waste.”

Between his fingers rubbing your pussy and his warm breath ghosting over your cheek, your best friend’s touches sent delightful shivers up and down your spine, and it wasn’t long before you were trembling in his arms.

“Besides, it’s my birthday,” he went on, his voice dropping low so it wouldn’t carry on the evening breeze. “Which means you should let me have what I want—and what I want is to rub my cock against your hot, wet pussy until we both come.”

A breathy little laugh escaped your lips, and your shoulders shook under the onslaught of pleasure your best friend was wringing from your body on your front stoop.

It didn’t take much thought to realize Steve was right. It was his birthday, and you wanted to give him exactly what he wanted. But that didn’t mean you had to make it easy for him.

“I guess that’s how it works,” you said, heaving an exaggerated sigh. Leaning back, you caught Steve’s eye and gave him a playful smirk to let him know you were joking, and were gratified to see his gaze sparkling with humor.

Then you did the hardest thing you’d ever done in your life—you extricated yourself from Steve’s arms, pushing his hand out of the way and easing off his thigh before digging in your bag for your keys.

You spun around, grateful Steve still kept his arms looped around your waist since your knees were a little weak, and unlocked the door.

Before you opened it, you cocked your head to the side and turned to Steve, letting your eyes rake over his handsome face as you shot him a flirty smile and murmured, “But just so you know, the offer for a birthday bj is still on the table.”

He chuckled, the sound husky and hot as his hands gripped your hips and he ground his erection into your ass. “Good to know, sunshine—now get this cute butt inside,” he rumbled, pushing you gently through the front door of the brownstone.

You lived on the top floor of the building, which had been converted into apartments, and thankfully, you and Steve knew the way up the stairs well enough that you didn’t have to pay much attention.

Instead, you could focus on more important things, like kissing and groping each other’s bodies, trying to make the other even more feral.

You grinned when you felt Steve’s cock twitch whenever your palm or fingertips brushed against it, drinking down his groans of torture, just like he smirked and greedily devoured your moans when he copped a feel under your dress, cupping your pussy possessively in his big hand and making you clench pitifully around nothing.

At the door to your apartment, Steve barely gave you a chance to unlock it before he was propelling you through it and kicking it closed, reaching back to make sure the lock had latched.

From there, the two of you made quick work of shedding your clothes. Steve helped you drag your dress up over your head, tossing somewhere in the hallway as you stumbled together toward your bedroom.

His shirt joined it a moment later, and you paused in the threshold of your room, admiring the broad shoulders and golden, sun-kissed skin of your best friend’s bare chest. A dim lamp was on beside your bed, and you took a moment just to appreciate the gloriousness of Steve Rogers.

After a slow sweep of his body, the urge to touch him struck again, and you crashed back into your best friend, your mouths fusing together in a fierce kiss while your hands continued exploring.

Your fingers trailed across the breadth of Steve’s shoulders, then down the sculpted planes of his pecs until you reached the little divots demarcating his abs. You loved the layer of softness covering his muscles, and the way his waist tapered down, as if inviting you to his cock.

Steve huffed a shaky laugh, his stomach contracting beneath your touch when your fingertips dug hungrily into his abs, and you felt him smile against your mouth.

With a grin, you suddenly remembered your best friend was ticklish. But before you could exploit that knowledge, he was shucking off his jeans and boxer briefs, letting his cock bounce free, and distracting you entirely from thoughts of torturing him with tickles.

Steve Rogers’ cock was a thing of perfection. You swore it was sculpted by the gods themselves to turn you into a squirming, lustful creature with nothing on your mind besides touching him, stroking him, taking him inside your body.

If you’d been able to speak in that moment, you would’ve blurted that he could take any hole he wanted for his birthday, just so long as he was inside you. But then you remembered what he wanted, and heat suffused your body, gathering between your thighs.

Unable to hold back another moment, you reached for him, your fingers curling around the perfect girth of Steve’s cock. He was long and hard, and you knew from experience that he filled you up perfectly, like his body was made to fit your own.

When you gave him a firm, affectionate stroke with your fist, you wrung a pleasured groan from your best friend, his head tipping back and showing off the long length of his throat, his adam’s apple bobbing just for you.

“Sunshine,” Steve growled, his voice a low, delicious rumble that licked a long line of heat down your spine.

You watched as he gathered himself and reached behind your back.

With a quick twist of his fingers, he undid your bra and yanked it off your body. The garment had barely hit the floor before his hands were on you again, his big palms cupping your tits, fingers plucking at your nipples.

The cool air of your room teased across your bare skin, warring with the heat building in your body, erupting in bursts of pleasure everywhere Steve touched you. It felt so good, but it wasn’t enough—you didn’t think you’d ever get enough of him.

So you kissed your best friend harder, your tongue tangling with his as you moaned into his mouth and stroked his cock. His fingers pinched your nipples and pulled, sending sparks of an aching, exciting pleasure through your body, and you mewled loudly, squeezing his cock tight in your fingers.

Steve thrust into your grip, chasing your hand as you pumped his cock in a slow, lazy rhythm. Your mouths slid against each other messily, the kiss devolving as both your moans grew louder.

Steve’s hands skimmed down your sides, grabbing the plush curve of your hips in a delicious squeeze before slipping his fingers under your panties and shoving them down to your feet.

Finally, you were both naked, and you pressed close to him, mindless moans falling from your lips as you felt the heat and solid firmness of his body against yours. It felt so fucking good, you could lose yourself in it.

Steve growled against your mouth, pulling you back into the moment as he muttered, “Get on the bed before I toss you down myself.”

A panting laugh burst from your lips even as a bolt of heat shot straight down your spine. The thought of your best friend manhandling you onto your bed was too good to pass up, so you hooked your free arm around his shoulders.

“Mm, actually I think I’d like to see that, Rogers,” you shot back, an insolent challenge in your tone. To drive your point home, you nipped at his lower lip playfully, satisfied when it had the desired reaction.

With a deliciously deep growl, Steve grabbed the backs of your thighs and tumbled you down onto the bed. Your back landed on the soft blankets, but he didn’t stop there, his hands digging beneath your body and moving you up the mattress until your head hit the pillows.

A delighted, breathy laugh tore from your lips and you wrapped your free hand around the back of Steve’s neck, dragging him in for another messy, filthy kiss. He licked your laughter from your tongue, your hand still pumping his cock while he manhandled you into the position he wanted.

His hands slid down to your legs, grabbing them and pushing your knees up toward your chest, spreading your thighs until they bracketed your breasts. Then he sat back, his cock slipping from your grasp, and stared down at you, a smirk on his flushed face as he admired his work.

You were folded in half, your pussy on full display for your best friend while he loomed above you like a golden god. You were entirely at his mercy, and you couldn’t possibly be happier.

Steve’s blue eyes were bright and shining in the dim light of your room, all remnants of the drunken haze having been burned away by his desire for you. He looked so handsome—his blond hair mussed by your hands, and his eyes burning with lust for you—that it took your breath away.

Your heart thumped in your chest, butterflies whirled in your belly, and you knew right then that Steve Rogers was way more than your best friend. He was…yours.

He was yours and you were his. But what that meant, and how exactly you felt about him, could wait to be unpacked and discussed in the morning.

Still, you suspected Steve had an idea about what you were thinking and feeling by the way his eyes narrowed on you, darkening when they raked over your expression.

He’d been your best friend long enough to know you, and somehow, you were sure he knew exactly how you felt—and he felt the same way.

A shaky smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as you stared up at him, feeling just as clear-headed as he looked—if a little drunk on the yearning desire simmering between you.

Steve smiled back at you, his eyes filled with so much affection, it made your heart feel warm and cozy and secure.

“Ready, sunshine?” Steve asked, his words gruff and tentative.

You got the sense he was asking about more than just what you two were about to do. But Steve Rogers was your best friend, and you knew you were safe in his hands. So you nodded, your mouth curving into a beaming smile.

“Ready, Stevie,” you answered sweetly, tilting your hips up and holding your legs spread for him, giving him your pussy the way you’d already given him your heart.

A grin stole across his face and Steve shifted closer, until his cock slid against your pussy, making you whimper while he grunted at the feel of you.

“Fuck, baby,” Steve groaned, staring down at his cock dragging between your slick folds. “You have the prettiest pussy, ya know that?”

His hands stroked down your inner thighs, goose bumps raising in their wake, before settling in the juncture between your legs. Using his thumbs, he pushed his cock deeper into your slit, bullying between your soft, swollen lower lips to drench himself in your dripping desire.

“The prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen in my life.”

His voice was ragged with barely leashed hunger, his blue eyes dark and focused as he stared down at where his cock was splitting your pussy lips open around his thick length. He rolled his hips, fucking against you at a steady, maddeningly slow pace.

“Steve,” you cried in a keening whine, lifting your hips up off the bed to roll against the underside of his cock. Your fingers clawed at the blankets of your bed, desperate to cling to something while he drove you wild.

You could feel every hard ridge and throbbing vein on his shaft, could feel the way the flushed tip bullied your clit as he pushed through your folds over and over and over again. You could feel the way your slick coated his hard length, making him slide more easily against your hot, needy cunt.

“Fuck,” you cursed, your body writhing on the bed. Your lips moved, words spilling from your mouth before you could even think to bite them back. “Oh god, daddy, you feel so good.”

A low, delicious chuckle sounded above you and you cracked your eyes open in time to see Steve flicking his gaze to your face. He wore a crooked grin that only highlighted his flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes.

“Already calling me daddy, baby?” he teased, leaning down until he was hovering above you, his thumbs still pressing his cock as deep into your slit as it would go without pushing inside your tight hole. “I’m not even inside you—usually you don’t go dumb for me until I’m balls deep in your hot little pussy.”

Steve’s words sent a rush of heat through your body so devastating, your spine arched up off the bed and your eyes rolled back in your head. A loud, throaty, obscene moan wrenched from your lips, and you could feel your cunt clenching pitifully around nothing.

You were so lost in the reaction of your body, your mouth opened and you spoke again without thinking.

“Put it in, Steve,” you panted, still squirming beneath his larger form. With great effort, you opened your eyes and met your best friend’s gaze. “Just the tip, just a little bit. Please.”

At your pleading words, Steve went completely still.

You expected him to shut you down—gently, of course—so you were surprised when you saw the conflict in his eyes.

His mouth twisted with desire, and his gaze turned scorching as he stared down at you. But his brows were pulled together, a divot of uncertainty marring his handsome face.

“Sunshine,” he growled, his voice a deep, delicious rumble as he shifted above you, planting his hands on the mattress on either side of your body so he could lean down close to you.

His eyes searched yours for a moment before he went on.

“I don’t… I genuinely don’t know if I’ll be able to stop,” he confessed, his words rough and blistering, like he’d dragged them from the depths of his soul. “I know how good you feel with a condom—like fucking heaven wrapped around my cock…”

He trailed off, his fingers smoothing over your cheek before trailing down to trace along your lower lip. You stayed still, your breath caught in your throat, mesmerized by the sight of your best friend wrestling with your request for him to fuck you bare.

“If you let me put it in without a condom, even just the tip, I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to stop myself from pushing all the way in—from pounding into your cunt until I make you come on my cock and fill you up with so much of my seed, you’ll be leaking for the rest of the night.”

Shivers zipped through your body until you were trembling beneath Steve, and you had to close your eyes for a brief moment while you collected your thoughts, which had been scattered across your bedroom floor by his filthy words.

When you blinked your eyes open, you found your best friend—your Steve Rogers—watching you closely, his brows still furrowed with concern. For a moment, you were so thankful that life had led you to him, because you didn’t want to be in this moment with anyone but him.

You knew it was risky to have bare sex. You were on birth control, but you knew there was always the possibility that it failed, which was why you used condoms.

But in that moment, you didn’t care about the risk half as much as you wanted Steve to fuck you bare. And once you allowed yourself to want that, you wanted it so fucking bad.

You wanted Steve to fuck you raw and come inside you, fill you up until his seed spilled over.

Besides, you reasoned with yourself, if the worst happened, you knew your best friend wouldn’t abandon you. You’d never felt safer than in Steve Rogers’ arms, and you knew that if you got pregnant, you’d figure it out together.

So you let a smile curl the corners of your lips and you turned your head, pressing a sweet kiss into the palm of Steve’s hand. He’d been cupping your face, his thumb stroking your cheek, while he waited patiently for you to make your decision.

You could still smell the faint trace of beer on your breath as you exhaled against Steve’s palm, and you remembered what you’d thought when you were drunkenly making out against your front door—he tasted like beer and bad decisions.

Maybe someone else would say your decision was a bad one, but you didn’t care. It was yours, and it was Steve’s, and you were excited to make it together.

“I trust you, Steve,” you whispered, turning your face back to him. You stared deep into his eyes, showing him the surety of how you felt. Then you let your mouth curve into a playful smile. “What’s a little birthday breeding between friends?”

Steve’s expression was inscrutable for a moment. Then a grin broke across his face like the sun emerging from behind a cloud, and he huffed an amused laugh.

Ducking his head, he stole a kiss from your lips before pulling back to hover above you again.

“You’re ridiculous, sunshine,” he murmured, nothing but affectionate teasing in his tone. He pressed his forehead to yours, and you stayed like that for a moment before he spoke again. “We’ll get the morning after pill tomorrow, yeah? I’ll take care of you—we can watch all those silly movies you like.”

Happiness bubbled up inside you and it spilled out in the form of a goofy laugh, which you silenced by wrapping your arms around Steve’s shoulders and dragging him down for another kiss. This one was slower, sweeter, the two of you savoring each other as the heat between you began to build again.

“You’re the best, Stevie,” you said sweetly on an exhale, your lashes fluttering as your eyes opened. You met Steve’s gaze above you, trying to fight off a flirty smirk as you taunted him. “Now, will you put it in already?”

Steve huffed a surprised laugh, stealing one last kiss before sitting back up on his knees and shooting you a good-natured glare. “Remember, sunshine, it’s my birthday—so be good.”

At the steely, commanding growl in your best friend’s voice, you lost the fight against the smile trying to spread across your face. You grinned up at Steve as you settled back into the pillows on your bed, spreading your thighs wider and using your arms to push your tits together, offering them up for your best friend.

“Yes, sir,” you purred, watching Steve’s gaze rake appreciatively down your body until it fixed on your cunt, where his cock was still wedged between your folds.

Before you could tease him any more, Steve pulled his hips back and pushed forward, dragging the hard length of his cock through your drippy, messy pussy lips.

A moan tumbled from your lips, and your hands found their way to your tits, your fingers pinching your nipples while Steve slid his cock through your slit, coating himself in your slick juices.

He thrust against you a few more times, his pace slow and controlled, driving you wild until you were whining and writhing beneath him, staring up at him with heavy-lidded eyes.

“Please, daddy,” you panted pitifully. “Just the tip.”

Steve’s eyes flicked to yours, so much heat in his gaze that you felt it burning through your entire body and making your cunt pulse between your thighs. His blue eyes darkened as he watched you, a wicked smirk curving his perfect mouth.

“Ya want the tip, baby?” he crooned, his tone patronizing and a little bit mean.

A woeful whimper fell from your lips as you nodded your head eagerly, your eyes opening wide and giving Steve your best pleading look. “Please, Stevie.”

His grin widened, turned wolfish, and it was your only warning. He pulled his hips back until the tip of his cock notched at the entrance of your tight hole, ready to give you exactly what you wanted.

Steve paused there, both of you holding your breath. Your eyes locked with his, a hungry, greedy smile curving your lips to match his grin, and then he was pushing forward.

Your chest heaved with a gasp, your tits bouncing, when the thick head of Steve’s cock slid into your pussy. He breached you slowly, making you feel every bit of your pussy enveloping the tip of his cock in your warmth.

Once he was inside, Steve paused, his eyes sliding closed and his head tipping back. An obscene groan fell from his lips, and it looked like he was having a religious experience.

You understood, because the feeling of having the hot, hard tip of your best friend’s cock inside you bare was searing itself into your mind.

Time stretched on, and it felt like the entire universe was rearranging itself to lengthen the moment, letting you live in it long enough to savor it fully—and then grow restless for more.

Before you could beg your best friend to stuff you full of even more of his cock, Steve pulled back. The tip slipped out of your tight hole, so he was only pressed against your entrance, and it left you feeling so empty you could cry.

A whimper of protest tumbled from your lips and Steve cooed your nickname soothingly as he pushed the head of his cock back into your snug cunt. You moaned your appreciation, your nails digging into his taut forearms while he held himself above you.

“Christ, baby, you feel so fucking good,” Steve groaned, rolling his hips in steady, measured movements so he was fucking you with only the tip of his cock. “Your pussy’s so warm and tight—it feels like you’re sucking me deeper, sunshine, do you want me deeper?”

“Nngh, yes, please,” you cried, your arms hooked around the backs of your knees, keeping your body folded in half because you knew if you let go, you’d drag Steve deeper into your pussy in an instant. “Gimme your cock, daddy, stuff me full—please, Steve, I need it!”

“Then take it, sunshine,” Steve growled, thrusting into you another inch, his eyes closing as he reveled in the feeling of your tight heat wrapping around his cock. “Fuck, so good, baby. You feel so good on my cock.”

“Steve,” you wailed your best friend’s name on a choking sob, pleasure sweeping through your body in dizzying waves. “You’re splitting me open—oh god, it feels so good, daddy, I want it all!”

Steve was burying his cock deeper with every roll of his hips and it felt so scorchingly good. His hot, hard cock was spearing into you, rewriting the very fiber of your being to etch himself into your soul—and you welcomed it happily, eagerly.

“Please, Steve, give it all to me! I need it—I need your cock, please!”

“You want it all, you’ll get it all, baby,” Steve grunted, his hips snapping forward with a vicious thrust. The move pushed his hard length all the way into you, so you were completely connected in the most intimate way possible.

Pleasure surged through your body in a devastating swell, and a scream fell from your lips when Steve finally filled you up to the hilt. His cock was stuffed so deep in your pussy, you could feel his balls nestled against your ass. And it was exactly what you needed.

“Thank you, daddy,” you sobbed in pleasure, your mind scattered in the wind, your hands reaching blindly for your best friend. “That’s s’good—so full, ungh, yes.”

Steve chuckled, leaning down and gathering you up in his arms. His mouth found yours and he kissed you sweetly, sucking on your swollen lower lip before licking inside your mouth. His tongue stroked against yours, wringing a soft moan from you before he pulled back.

“Thank you, sunshine,” he murmured, the warm tone of his voice so drenched in affection it penetrated some of the blissful haze filling your head. “Feeling your precious cunt wrapped around my bare cock is the best birthday gift anyone’s ever given me—you feel like heaven, baby, like you were made just for me.”

“I was, Steve,” you babbled, your heavy-lidded eyes blinking through the fog of pleasure to focus on your best friend. “I was made for you, and you were made for me—you fill me up so good, Stevie.”

Your words dissolved on a whine, your hips writhing beneath Steve’s big body, wordlessly urging him to move and fuck you.

With another sweet kiss that stole your breath, Steve took the hint. His hips pulled back a little, then he rocked into you, his cock splitting you open all over again. He cradled your head in his hands as he rolled his hips, fucking you in deep, firm thrusts.

Your tits bounced against his chest, his warm, taut muscles rubbing the puckered peaks of your nipples, and you arched your spine to get more of that delicious friction. Needing him closer, you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, and you clung to him, your fingers tangling in his soft, messy hair.

But it wasn’t enough. You didn’t know if you’d ever get enough of Steve, get close enough. You wanted to be wrapped around him, pressed so tight it felt like you were one.

So you curled your legs around the backs of his thighs, using the leverage to meet his thrusts and drag him deeper into your body until you were nearly fused together. The two of you were little more than tangled limbs and writhing hips, your cunt grinding down on Steve’s cock as he throbbed inside you.

And all the while, your mouths stayed slanted together, even though you were long past being able to kiss.

You tasted beer on Steve’s breath as he panted into your mouth, and you moaned your pleasure right back, smiling wildly when he licked the sound from your lips.

Nothing about this was a bad decision, you decided. It couldn’t be, not when it felt so fucking right.

“Fuck, baby, ‘m getting close,” Steve rasped against your mouth, one of his hands cupping the back of your head. He curled the fingers of his other hand around the curve of your shoulder, holding you in place while he pounded into you. “Tell me what you want, sunshine.”

“Come inside me,” you gasped, tugging on his hair until you could look into your best friend’s eyes. “Breed me, Steve, fill me up over and over until your seed is dripping out of my achy hole.”

Your best friend’s eyes darkened so much they were nearly black, his handsome face twisting with feral hunger as he fucked you harder, rutting deep inside you with his thick, heavy cock.

“You’re such a filthy fucking slut, sunshine,” he growled, staring deep into your eyes, his gaze reverent and wild, “And so fucking perfect.”

His fingers brushed against your cheek with a surprising gentleness, and then he was stretching his arm out, fumbling with the drawer in your bedside table while he held your gaze with his own.

Your heart lurched in your chest when you realized what he was looking for, and your pussy squeezed excitedly around his cock. “Daddy,” you breathed, need dripping from your tone.

The way you sounded made Steve’s lips curve into an arrogant smirk, but he had every right to be arrogant. He knew exactly how to use that perfect cock of his, and he knew that pairing it with the toy in your bedside table would thoroughly ruin you.

“You’ve been such a good girl for daddy, sunshine, I’m gonna make you come so hard,” Steve promised.

He snagged the small, but powerful vibrator from the drawer and brought it toward you. With deft hands, he slipped it down between your bodies, wedging it against your clit and holding it steady while he fucked you.

“I wanna feel your greedy cunt milking all the seed from my balls, baby—gonna fill you up and breed you good.”

Then, Steve pressed the button on the toy and it came to life, sending wickedly strong vibrations straight into your clit.

Sparks danced across your vision and you sucked in a sharp breath, your body careening toward your release at breakneck speed.

Between Steve’s thick, perfect cock filling your cunt and the vibrator pressed to your clit, you never had a chance of holding on to the edge. Your best friend pushed you over and the tension in your body snapped, sending you into free-fall as you came apart on his cock.

A strangled scream tore from your lips and your body clenched hard, your cunt squeezing so tight around Steve’s cock, he grunted loudly.

The flash of his feral grin and the hungry spark in his blue eyes were the last things you saw before your eyes rolled back in your head and you lost yourself in the ecstasy of your release.

Your body convulsed with pleasure beneath Steve’s heavy form, and he groaned his own need, his hips rutting into you as he chased his peak. He found it only a moment later, the vibrations from the toy and the tight squeeze of your throbbing pussy too much for him.

Steve came with a roaring groan, tossing the vibrator onto the blankets before wrapping you up in his thick arms. His hips shoved flush against yours, his cock filling your cunt as it twitched and spilled his seed against your cervix.

You were still gasping for air, the waves of your release crashing through your body. You could feel him throbbing his load into you and you moaned softly, tugging on his hair until his mouth found yours for a messy kiss.

You kissed as your bodies writhed together, eking out every last bit of pleasure from your releases.

Even when you were both spent, Steve’s body slumping down on top of you—as much as he could without crushing you—you kept kissing. You made out for long, languorous moments until your mouths finally slowed to a stop.

“I’ll never get tired of kissing you, sunshine,” Steve murmured against your lips, one of his hands cradling the back of your head while the other stroked your thigh soothingly. “You taste so sweet, like sunshine and summer breezes.”

You laughed breathily into your best friend’s mouth, voicing the thought you’d had earlier in the night, when you’d been making out against your front door.

“You taste like beer and bad decisions,” you said, swallowing the grunt of protest from your best friend. “And I love it, Stevie—I never wanna kiss anyone else.”

A slow smile curved the corners of his mouth, pressing his happy grin into your lips, and it wasn’t until he spoke that you realized what you’d said.

“You love it, huh, sunshine?” he teased, rolling onto his side and dragging you with him, hiking your thigh over his hip so his cock didn’t slip from your pussy. “Is that the only thing you love, baby?”

Steve pulled back, giving you a mock serious look, the edges of his lips fluttering as he held back a smile. He looked so devastatingly handsome, his cheeks flushed pink, his blond hair mussed, his blue eyes sparkling with humor and affection.

“It’s my birthday,” he said in an overly serious tone, fighting to keep the stern look on his face. “So you gotta tell me the truth.”

You knew what Steve was asking of you, but you weren’t ready to confess your feelings for him just yet. So you rolled your eyes in an excuse to look away from the all-too-knowing gaze of your best friend, and shook your head at him.

“Just shut up and kiss me, Rogers,” you hissed with little heat, wrapping your fingers around the back of his neck and dragging him close. “Besides, your birthday’s probably over by now,” you mumbled against his mouth, nipping playfully at his lower lip.

Steve chuckled, his warm breath ghosting over your skin and making you shiver. His hand slid up your thigh and groped your ass, holding your hips tight against his body, making sure your pussy was keeping his cock warm until he was ready for another round.

“Guess I’ll have to wait until next year to get the truth out of you, huh, sunshine?” Steve asked teasingly, a laugh in the warmth of his tone.

Instead of answering, you slanted your lips to his and kissed your best friend with all the love you had for him.

You felt him take a deep breath, his arms tightening around your body, crushing you to his chest as he kissed you back, showing you he felt the same.

The words and confessions of feelings could come later. For the rest of Steve Rogers’ birthday, you were happy sharing nothing more than beer and bad decisions with him.

#steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers' birthday #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfic #best friend steve rogers #established relationship #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans characters #witchywithwhiskeywork

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sceletaflores · 22 days ago

Text

HELL OF A VISION…

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｡𖦹°‧➵ PAIR: Joel Miller x fem!reader

｡𖦹°‧➵ WC: 2.6k

｡𖦹°‧➵ CONTAINS: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, post-outbreak, established relationship, jackson joel mmmh, domestic joel mmmh, both tags that are good for the soul, set in a sweet and lovely place where nothing bad happens, old man joel RAAHHH, the readers stay on, lots of dirty talk cause he’s old and gross, dry humping, finger sucking (still on this bullshit), lots of come and come talk…like verging on hyperspermia, yeah ik he’s old but he comes like a fire hose because i just can’t help myself y’all, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

｡𖦹°‧➵ NAT’S NOTE: i love fucking men who should be on AARP. thank god for them. this fic was actually meant to be the one i posted for rylea and i’s challenge, but i fucked up and accidentally made it over a thousand words…oops. of course i’m all about that reduce, reuse, recycle life sooo here we are. hope y'all love it, mwah!

dividers by @cafekitsune and @saradika-graphics!

you and joel spend a night reading in bed, amongst other things…

It's rare that you get to see Joel like this.

Relaxed, completely.

Propped up against the headboard of your bed, a pillow behind his back and his legs stretched under the quilt you finally finished up last year.

The copy of Lonesome Dove Ellie found a few weeks before his birthday rests open in one hand, the other slipped up under the hem of an old shirt you stole from him to absently stroke over the skin of your back.

You lay with your head on his chest, legs tangled with his as you count the beats of his heart against your cheek. It soothes you in a way nothing else can, listening to the slow turn of the pages and the occasional rumbling hum in his throat when he comes across a line he likes.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been curled up next to him, quietly watching the tiny shifts in his expression.

Letting your eyes glide along the side of his face bathed in the warm orange glow of his bedside lamp, the messy silver curls of his hair catching the light enough to almost shine. You’re tempted to reach out and run your fingers through the strands, even more than you did earlier tonight, to feel just how soft it is.

Your gaze traces down the slope of his forehead, the caress of his lashes fanning out over his cheeks, the arch of his nose, the soft curve of his lips and all the way back up to do it over again.

However long it’s been still isn’t enough. You could watch Joel for hours without getting bored, just a silent spectator drifting in the warmth of his presence.

There’s always something. A new project, patrol shifts, repairs. New everyday things you get to experience with him here in Jackson that you do love, but that keep him just out of your reach for longer than you like.

That’s why moments like these feel so special. There’s no crisis, no issues or problems to keep him out of your bed.

You don’t say much. You don’t need to.

You just…you have him tonight. And that’s enough.

Well, it's almost enough.

You’re in his t-shirt for Christ’s sake, wearing it like a brand. In his t-shirt and just your panties. And he’s so warm beneath you, big and solid, the kind of comfort you ache for. In more ways than you could even think of naming.

You shift your hips slowly. One tiny move that has his thigh pressing between your legs a little more firmly than before. Testing.

Joel’s hand pauses on your back. The subtle drag of his thumb stutters where it was gliding just beneath the hem of your shirt before it starts up again, slower than before. He doesn’t look at you right away. Doesn’t say anything either. Just flicks his eyes further down the page and keeps reading.

You try not to smile.

You do it again. Another slow drag of your hips—like it’s an accident. Like you’re just getting comfortable.

But Joel knows you too well. He knows every part of you now—the tiniest hitch of your breath, the way you go quiet when you want something, the shift in your touch dragging over his chest. Knows that the heat blooming between your legs has nothing to do with the cozy warmth of the blanket.

“Somethin’ on your mind, kid?” Joel drawls without looking up from his book, but his hand slides a bit lower, the tips of his fingers brushing over the hem of your panties.

You hum noncommittally, shift again, letting your hips roll forward with a little more intent. You feel the twitch of his thigh, the stutter of his exhale. “I’m just getting comfortable.”

The flick of a page, his fingers drag a little lower. “That so?”

“Mhm,” you murmur, all mock innocence as you press in closer, lifting your leg just enough to drape it over his hips. You’re practically straddling him now, your bare thigh flush to the soft cotton of his sleep pants.

“Doesn’t look it.” Joel’s tone is bland, uninterested. You know it’s just for show, part of the game. It’s always better when he fights you for it. “Looks like you’re tryin’ to take advantage of me.”

You muffle a laugh in his shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of pine and skin and musk. Your hand trails down his chest, down his stomach until you can toy with the drawstrings of his bottoms. “Maybe…are you offering?”

Joel peers at you over the edge of his readers, skeptical. It’s the first time he’s looked at you since he opened up his book. You try not to preen under his gaze. “I’m too old to be grindin’ like a damn teenager.”

“It’ll be good, promise. Just let me…” You sit up, swinging your leg over him to straddle his hips properly. “Let me rub on it a little, Joel. Please? I just wanna feel it.”

Your voice is all sugar, and Joel’s a sucker for it.

His cock softly jerks to life in his bottoms, lazily hardening under you. It tattles on him, gives away how he really feels seeing you perched on top of him. Your hips are moving before you can even think, rocking down against the rigid plane of heat.

You fit together perfectly, and Joel’s cock slipping between your soaked cunt has your mouth going slack, a soft moan passing through your lips.

"Jesus." His book snaps shut and lands somewhere by the lamp. His hands find your hips, not to stop you, not really—just to hold. You meet his heavy gaze, the blown pupils of his eyes shine like an oil slick under the dim light. He squeezes you hard, holding you in place as he huffs a dry laugh. “I ain’t dry humped since high school.”

You grind down again, fighting his grip. “Then I’d say you’re due.”

You roll your hips again and again. Back and forth in slow and deliberate motions, dragging that damp cotton across the length of him. You know he feels it—feels the heat of you, the slick mess you're making. You're working your clit right along the swell of him, jaw slack as your rhythm picks up.

And Joel is just watching, head tipped back against the headboard. Letting you use him. Eyes heavy-lidded, lips parted.

There’s been days where it’s harder for him to really roll around in the sheets with you, especially in the last couple months. Joel’s age catching up with him, hitting fast and slow all at once.

Joel hates it, not that he'd ever tell you that. He doesn’t have too, you know. Of course you know, you’re not stupid. You knew how old he was when you met him, and it never made you second guess that you wanted anyone else in your bed.

You’d never let Joel’s recent struggle to get it up ruin all that you have. You were more than content to find other ways to be intimate with someone you love, maybe a little excited even.

That’s not the case tonight.

Joel’s cock is fat and hard under you, twitching up through the soft cotton of his pants like it’s straining to get to you. The thick ridge of it bumps perfectly against your clit every time you roll your hips, dragging against the soaked crotch of your panties. The fabric clings to you, flimsy and so drenched with arousal that it’s barely even there.

“You’re soaked through, pumpkin.” Joel’s grip on your hips tightens until his fingers dimple your skin. His thumbs run over the edge of your panties, pressing hard enough that you know it’ll leave behind lacy imprints in your skin when this is all over. “Gettin’ my pants all wet and I ain’t laid a finger on you.”

Your brow arches, lips tugged into a smug grin that you can’t hide. “Is that a complaint?”

Joel squeezes your hips once, hard. A light warning, don’t be a smartass. “Don’t sound like I’m complainin’, do I?”

“I don’t know.” You hum, coy as your fingers dance over the hem of your shirt—his shirt—bunching it up around your hips, the dip of your waist visible in the lamplight. “You sure were talking a whole lot of smack earlier.”

You sneak your hand down the front of his pants before he can respond. His cock jerks when your fingers brush against it, his hips twitching up off the mattress and into your loose grip. You tsk softly, shaking your head as you lay it flat over his stomach, trapping him between the waistband and the coarse gray hair of his happy trail.

Joel hisses through his teeth, hands tightening around your hips. “Shit–”

“Don’t get too excited, Miller.” Your tone is teasing, even when your cunt clenches weakly at the sight. The rosy tip of his cock oozes pre-come onto his shirt, wetting the fabric enough that a dark patch blooms across the thin blue cotton. You want to press your lips to it, to trace the ridge with your tongue so you can taste him—salty, musky, and heady. “I just wanted a better view.”

Joel grunts like he doesn’t believe you, like he knows you’re full of shit, but his hips are shifting under you anyway. His cock nudging up into the hot mess between your thighs, seeking friction, contact—you.

His hands curl around your thighs, pulling you down harder against the heavy bulge in his pants. He’s soaked through too now, the front of his sleep pants dark with it, sticky and wet where you’ve been grinding down.

And his cock—god, his cock is leaking. Fat beads of precome drool out from the tip, smearing slick over the dark hair of his happy trail and dripping down between your folds. You can feel it every time your hips circle down.

“Dirty fuckin’ thing,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. “You look so pretty like this, baby. Just like this.”

Your eyes flutter shut on a breathy moan, your hands falling to rest on his chest as your hips rock and rock.

There’s a spot, right where his cock curves, that keeps catching against your clit every time you rock forward. You keep grinding into it, chasing that pressure, whimpering with every pass of it.

Joel notices. Of course he fucking notices.

“There,” he grunts, holding you in place and angling his hips up. “Right there, huh? That’s it, baby? That’s the spot.”

You whimper, nodding so fast it’s dizzying. “Feels so good, Joel. I can’t—I can’t stop, you feel so good—”

Your hands drag up his chest, lingering on the tan column of his throat. You run your nails over the thin skin, stretching over the coarse hair he must’ve missed cleaning up his beard. Your thumb rests just over his pulse, right where you can feel the beat of his heart pounding like a hammer on a nail.

Your hand slides up before you can stop yourself, cupping the side of his face like you’ve got the whole world cradled in your palm. Your thumb glides along his bottom lip now, wet with spit. Your nail presses into the fat of it, firm enough to drain the color before you lift up and do it again.

Joel can’t swallow down his noises like this, with the way you’re forcing his lips to part. Deep grunts and groans ring out from around your finger. His eyes never stray from yours as he closes his lips around the tip of your thumb, watching you through the steamy glass of his readers.

You let out a pathetically broken moan, pushing your thumb deeper into the wet heat of his mouth. “Fuck, Joel…”

He doesn’t hesitate. Just parts his lips and sucks it into the heat of his mouth, deep and greedy. His tongue curls around your thumb, wet and filthy, moaning low in his throat like he’s starved. His brows pinch like he’s feeling it somewhere deep, deeper than he’s letting on.

You rock your hips while he sucks your fingers like he’d suck your clit—like it’s nothing to him, just muscle memory now. Your cunt clenches weakly with every pass of his tongue, fire shooting up your spine as your rhythm starts to falter.

Joel feels it, the shift. The way you start to get messy with it, desperate. He knows you’re close.

He groans around your thumb and lets it go with a slick pop. “Go on, girly. Mess up those pretty panties. Rub that sweet cunt all over me—fuck yourself on it. That’s it.”

Your nails dig back into his chest as your stomach clenches with the first signs of your orgasm sneaking up on you. You rock faster, chasing it, slick soaking through the thin cotton. The shape of his cock is so perfect under you—thick and wide and right—even through your clothes.

You whimper something broken, grinding down hard, over and over, as pleasure builds sharp in your belly.

Joel grits his teeth. “You gonna come for me like this?”

“Yes.” You nod again, frantic. “Joel—I’m gonna—god, I’m gonna—”

Your thighs seize and your body jolts against him as you come, trembling in his lap, cunt spasming against soaked fabric.

Joel groans like it’s killing him, watching you fall apart. His voice breaks as he groans your name, “Keep goin’, baby, just like that—fuck, fuck, you’re gonna make me—”

Your eyes are locked on the drooling tip of his cock, you don’t think anything could tear your attention away from it. Not even gunfire. Your hips don’t stop moving, even when your clit pulses with overstimulation each time it bumps up against him.

But you can’t stop. You won’t stop, not when Joel asks you so nicely.

His grip on you tightens, his hips twitch up off the bed. Once, twice, three times. “Fuck–”

You watch as he comes, mesmerized. His cock jerks against his stomach, painting the front of his shirt with rope after rope of thick come.

Joel groans, loud, from deep in the chest. An intoxicating, raw sound, like it’s being pulled out of him with a tight fist. His head knocks against the headboard, jaw clenched, eyes screwed shut like the pleasure hurts.

“Jesus—shit, baby,” he grits out to the ceiling, voice wrecked. His hands are basically doing all the work now, shifting your hips back and forth, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “That’s it, ride it out of me—goddamn.”

He just keeps coming, shooting up high, nearly hitting his chest with it. A slow, filthy mess oozing out of the flushed head of his cock. The shirt’s a lost cause, but you could care less when his come drips down the sides of his stomach as it clenches deliciously.

You stare, panting as the last sparks of your high fizzle out. You want to taste it, to smear it around and dirty him up even more.

By the time he slumps back against the pillows, he’s panting like he just ran ten miles. His chest is heaving, the front of his pants an absolute wreck, and he’s still twitching under you like he hasn’t fully come down.

You lean down, nose brushing his. “Still think you’re too old for dry humping?”

Joel gives a weak chuckle, hands smoothing up and down your sides. “You’re laughin’ now, bet you’ll be singin’ a different tune when you’re the one nursin’ my bad back tomorrow.”

You grin, pressing a kiss on his chin. “Worth it.”

And then you rock your hips once more, dragging your soaked cunt over his softening, come slicked cock.

He groans, his hands twitching over your hips. “You just don’t know when to quit, huh?”

“Probably not. Guess you better read faster next time,” you murmur, mouth against his ear. “Because at this rate? You’re never finishing up that chapter.”

The swat on your ass stings, but you knew it was coming. It’s not enough to hide the low rumble of laughter ringing out over your head, and that’s all that really matters anyway.

MINI NAT'S NOTE: this got waaay fluffier than i thought it would when i started it. it’s probably the fluffiest thing i've written in a while. this isn't what i planned on posting, but it's hot and my knee hurts and i can't sleep...and this was basically done so i finished it up as a distraction from my chronic pain :))) and insomnia :))) yay me! yes the title is a lonesome dove quote because i’m texas trash and so is joel miller.

to the anon who sent me an actual banger of an ask, i am working on it! don’t worry babe, i almost cried tears of joy when i saw it in my notifs…i’m just on the struggle bus rn and the ideas are suffering…

thank you so much for reading, love you!

#— 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘢 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 ♡#ᯓ★ 𝐧𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐣𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫!#natalia can't write anything under 1.000 words #love you mwah #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #tlou x reader #tlou smut #the last of us smut #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut

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