#Food Porn Friday

[frombehindthepen]

Food Porn Friday: What is Your Popular Slice of Pie Around the World?

Food Porn Friday: What is Your Popular Slice of Pie Around the World? #Pies #FoodCommunity #Bakery #BakedDesserts #Food

Image Credit: Christina Voinova It’s been a while since I featured special dishes on Food Porn Friday. Today, I am posing this question to you – “What is the most popular pie in your country?” History, cultures, and origins of sweet and savory pies ooze with deliciously filled baked pastry shells around the world. So whether it’s Tourtière (a hearty French-Canadian meat pie), Vlaai (Dutch fruit…

[motivatemycollegelife]

[seniouesbabes]

Lily Maymac 🌸🍒💋🌸 • DEAR IRVING

The food at this speakeasy bar was A+ !!!

[xaviergalatis]

[upside-downsworld]

[jenosbigtoe]

mdni. nsfw 18+

pairing: best friend!fwb!lee jeno x reader x best friend!jaemin

warnings: 3some, unprotected sex, creampie, cunnilingus, cumeating, masturbation (m), lowkey mxm if you think about it, porn no plot (shitty “plot”)

@jenomov sorry for disappearing.. hope this helps 🤗

—

it was his idea first—you’re both single and horny and you know him the best out of anyone, besides your other best friend, jaemin. it was only natural he asked you, out of everyone, to relieve his needs while he relieved yours. like scratching each other’s backs, as he put it.

you couldn’t even pretend to hesitate about it. who cares if you’ve been best friends for years? it’s not like some fucking would throw that all down the drain—not when you’ve secretly been wanting to sleep with him and jaemin for years. it was bound to happen at some point. your best friends are hot as fuck—why wouldn’t you jump at the opportunity to fuck at least one of them? a greedy part of you wishes you could have both, but one is enough for now.

it seems that insatiable thirst you have for jeno is equally reciprocated by him—after sleeping together once, you’ve been seeing him at least every other day.

it was convenient enough. you already spent most of your time hanging out with him, jaemin, or both. except instead of playing mario kart or watching shitty sitcoms with him, more often than not he has you folded into acrobatic ways to drill his fat cock into your needy pussy.

and jeno fucks like a pornstar.

smushing your face into the mattress while he pounds you feverishly from behind. placing your legs on his shoulders so he can reach that sweet spot deep inside your pussy with his hot length. spitting on your used cunt and using his tongue to lick and fuck your hole like you’re his last meal on death row. it’s like he finds new ways to fuck you every time you hook up—and every time leaves you hungry for more.

it’s an absolute miracle jaemin hasn’t caught on by now. like really, did you both have to go to the bathroom at the exact same time for 30 minutes? did you both have to contract food poisoning and couldn’t make it to your weekly friday movie night?

it’s not like you even tried to hide it that well. fucking in your room right next to the guest room that both jeno and jaemin were supposed to sleeping in, until jeno snuck out to go see you. the sounds of sex—headboard banging against the wall, skin slapping on skin, breathy moans and low grunts—definitely should’ve alerted jaemin to exactly what you two were doing.

but jaemin still, at the very least, appeared to be none the wiser. it’s like he hasn’t even noticed the way you’ve been rubbing your ass on jeno’s boner all night underneath the thin blankets, when you should’ve been watching whatever corny horror movie that was on the tv. the way jeno is gripping your hips in a way that is more than friendly. jaemin’s back is pressed against the front of your body while jeno cuddles you from behind.

“i’m gotta go take a shower.” you fake a yawn, “i’m getting tired and i’m ready for bed.”

jaemin briefly glances over at you but you couldn’t read his facial expression in the dark. “okay. good night.” he scoots away from your body.

“good night.” you get up from jeno’s grasp and walk away, only to hear him tell jaemin, “i gotta go take a shit, i’ll be right back.” you smirk.

—

“mmph—fuck!” you curse against jeno’s hand pressed to your mouth.

with one arm gripping your waist and the other hand pressed against your mouth to get you to shut the fuck up, jeno snaps his hips into yours from behind, every movement jolting your entire body forward and sending shock waves down your spine.

“shit, baby, i can never get tired of fucking you,” he chuckles lowly.

his hips drill his cock deep into your dripping cunt, his fat girth stretching you out just like the first time. with every thrust, the tip of his cock drives deeper inside you, leaving you with an insatiable thirst for more, more.

“mmph, ah—“ you struggle to speak against the tight grip he has on your mouth.

he moves his hand from your mouth back to your waist, using all of his strength to press your body against him in a tight bear hug while he fucks you into the mattress. you suck in a huge breath of relief, gasping for air.

“jen, please! i need—“ you can’t finish your sentence as he delivers a particularly rough thrust right against your cervix. “fuck!” you squeal a little too loud.

he smacks your ass in warning. “watch it, princess. don’t want our jaemin to hear you being a cock slut for me, now do we?” his hips never falter their pace, his cock drilling into you with a mind numbing rhythm. “tell me what you want, baby.”

you drop your head. “jen, need— need more.”

he smiles and leans his head to put his lips close to your ear. “that’s my girl.”

if at all possible, his hips seem to be going faster, harder, deeper than before. you almost scream in delight, if it wasn’t for the fact that you knew he would be so mad at you. your pussy clenches around every ridge and every vein on his cock as he drags his length against your walls in an erratic rhythm.

“fuck,” he groans to himself, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

you don’t notice the bedroom door wide open, as jaemin watches the two of you with his arms folded across his chest.

“well fuck, why wasn’t i invited in on the fun in here?” jaemin’s voice ringing through the room has your heart dropping out of your ass as you jump in fright. jeno freezes on the spot, slowly swiveling his head to see his best friend watching menacingly.

jaemin’s eyebrows are furrowed and the veins on his neck bulging.

“no, don’t let me stop what you were doing. obviously you can’t even take your cock out of her even when you have an audience.” jaemin stalks towards the two of you with a predatory look in his eyes. you both can’t even begin to move yourself from the shock of it all. fuck.

you notice the thick bulge in jaemin’s sweatpants, the look of hunger on his face as he licks his lips. you recover from the shock first—when jeno begins to say, “holy sh-“ you begin to move your ass against his cock once more, using your juices to clench and fuck jeno’s cock right in front of your other best friend.

“that’s right, baby. fuck his cock for me,” jaemin’s smirk reminds you of a hungry beast, ready to devour a delicious meal right in front of him.

noises slip from your mouth with abandon, no longer caring who heard because you’ve already been caught. jeno catches on quick—his hips moving to meet yours, slowly speeding up to the animalistic pace he had been fucking you before. you barely even notice jaemin stripping himself bare as he walks to the side of your bed, standing to the side with his red hot cock in his hand standing hard and proud. jaemin spits on his hand and rubs his cock furiously, his face scrunched in concentration as he watches you fuck his best friend like an animal.

with the added audience, jeno seems to lose himself in your pussy faster. he likes it, likes having his and your best friend watch you get fucked. your cunt drips endlessly around his hot length, allowing his cock to slip in and out of your heat with ease. the pace of his hips quickly grow sloppy and you can feel his cock twitch deep inside your cunt with every thrust now—a sign you’ve grown to know all too well.

“shit—baby i’m going to cum,” he groans. you clench harder at his words, nearing your release.

with stuttering hips, he slams his cock balls deep in your hot cunt. his cock twitches violently as he shoots his white hot ropes inside you, talking his head back and moaning loudly. “fuck.”

you moan at the hot feeling of your best friend’s cum painting your walls. slowly, you turn your head back to face your other best friend, who still has his cock in his hands and a satisfied look on his face.

“get off her,” jaemin commands.

jeno can’t even think from the mind blowing orgasm he just had. he rolls off your body and lays flat on the bed beside you, panting to catch his breath.

before you can even move, jaemin climbs on the bed and flips you on your back. he climbs over your body and traps you underneath his, his hand gripping your face and leaving you unable to move.

“look at this little slut right here. fucking our best friend like i wouldn’t ever find out.” he crashes his lips against yours, sucking and biting at your lips like you were made of candy.

“mmph—,” you moan.

jaemin pulls away from your lips, a string of saliva connecting the two of you. “shut up, slut. you wanna act like a slut? you’re gonna get treated like one now.” jaemin crawls down your body and wraps his arms around your legs, forcing them apart. he uses his strength to keep an iron grip on your thighs as he inspects your cunt from below.

“i wonder how many times jeno has used this slutty pussy,” jaemin chuckles dangerously.

you squirm, with futile attempts to move out of jaemin’s crushing grip. you can feel jeno’s hot cum start to drip out of your cunt, despite your attempts to clench it inside.

you don’t notice jeno sitting up again, this time watching the two of you with renewed interest. his cock is hard again, standing erect as he starts stroking it.

jaemin uses his fingers to scoop the cum back into your cunt, causing you to gasp sharply and jerk your body around.

“holy fu-“ before you can finish your statement, you feel jaemin’s hot mouth press against your core, his tongue shoving into your used hole and licking up to flick your clit.

you scream at the sudden feeling, hands tangling and pulling onto jaemin’s dark locks. your legs shake from the attack of pleasure on your sore pussy. jaemin pays no mind—continuing to eat you like you’re his last meal.

before you can even realize it, your orgasm crashes down on your senses like a tsunami, waves of pleasure coursing through your veins as your brain goes blank.

your body tightens up and you toss your head back to moan loudly. jaemin’s tongue continues to attack your clit furiously, licking and sucking your through your intense orgasm. jeno rubs his cock furiously, his second orgasm approaching.

jaemin removes his mouth from your pussy with a loud pop—before he crawls back up to meet your fucked out face. he smashes his lips back against yours, making you taste yourself as he continues his attack on your lips this time. he pushes his tongue against yours to make you open your mouth—before he forces jeno’s cum right into your mouth.

you swallow it all—the taste of yourself mixed with jeno’s cum and jaemin’s mouth lingering in your own.

[b0ther]

ain't even jealousy

you fucking hate the basketball team, but there's no one you hate more than aomine.

pairing : aomine daiki x reader (feminine pronouns. afab) rating : explicit, not safe for work (sexual content) type : chaptered tags : aomine is a bully im not even kidding he is quite cruel, porn with PLOT, reader is besties with satsuki, reader also has a crush on imayoshi, reader also was wakamatsu's ex, hate sex, semi-public sex, manhandling, vaginal penetration, thigh fucking, semi-clothed sex, some slutshaming going on here, reader has big tits, slight dubcon. word count : 4,323

author's note : title from 'want u back' by cher lloyd. this is comissioned by a dear friend. hope you enjoy mwah. this first chapter (and whole fic im ngl) is centered around the onsen episode.

( masterlist │ ask/request │ ao3 )

After a long and hard day at school, all that you ever really want to do is to quickly get to your part-time job and finish up your shift. Perhaps you can get some convenient store food after that, or go straight home to shower and rest.

Whatever it is that you daydreamed of, it wasn't this.

Satsuki calls out to you, her voice soft against the bristling wind with her lithe arms circle around yours as you try to walk away, dragging her body forcefully with you. She whines your name over and over again, over the beating speaker against your ears before you finally had enough, ripping your headphones off your head, turning to face her.

“Satsuki!” You try to sound stern, but you end up whining in the same tone that she used. You can only be so serious as a high school girl, after all.

Her pink strands fall against her face messily; you use your other hand to tuck them behind her ear as she elongates the way she enunciates your name and begs, begs, begs you to listen to her. “Please! Just—”

“Satsuki!” You groan, shaking her off your body. “I’m busy. I have a part-time job, I’m failing maths, I have club activities. I can’t just… ditch everything and go !”

“You can!” It’s like she was not listening to a single word that you uttered. “It’s a month away and on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday—which you can begin asking for a leave day starting today , they will definitely let you if you do it a month in advance!—and maths!? That’s easy! I’ll teach you!”

You slant your eyes at her, arms crossing on your chest. “Alright. What about my club activities?”

“You mean your journalist club? One that encourages their members to leave their comfort zone in order to bring back interesting stories? One that basically has a crush on the basketball team?”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, don’t be dramatic.”

She gasps. “Don’t you love me!?”

“Don’t do this to me…”

“If you love me at all, you wouldn’t even think twice about going with me. Imagine me, a girl, going alone on an all-boys’ trip to some secluded place—”

“You’re being dramatic—” You tried reiterating your point.

“I’m not!” She whines, even louder this time, attracting attention from all the other Touou students around you. “You literally have nothing to lose by coming along! Give me five reasons—five good reasons—and I will literally stop bothering you.”

You shake her off again, and this time, Satsuki lets go and stumbles back a couple of steps as the mischief on her eye continues to shimmer. You have never lost an argument to Satsuki—but there is a first for everything, and you have a feeling that you are going to break some personal records today.

“First,” you take a deep breath as you hold up a finger. “Aomine’s gonna be there—”

“Perfect!” Not giving you a chance to speak, she cuts you off, eyes glimmering like starlight. “You like him!”

She strikes a nerve with this one.

One of your eyes twitches as you cross your arms under your chest. The excited smile on her face fades in an instant, recognizing in an instant that something is wrong.

Recognizing in an instant that something she should have known about is wrong.

She blinks a couple of times, trying to use all that intelligence in her head to analyse the error in what she said (which turns out pretty useless—guess all that she is good for is basketball).

“Have you been paying attention at all?” You begin to blabber after letting out a huge gasp, arms waving around in the air. “We’ve been friends for years— years ! Since the first year of middle school, and you know nothing of  my strong, burning opinion of Aomine!? Flash news, Satsuki, it’s not love!”

“You—” She stammers, “You talk about him a lot!”

“I complain about him a lot!” You correct her, blowing out air in frustration, feeling somewhat betrayed that your best friend had just accused you of liking your archnemesis… your enemy… your… your rival.

The point is! You hate him!

You would rather live in a world without television and the internet and good music if it means that you will have to never hear him say another word.

Aomine.

You shiver in annoyance.

Just saying his name irks the hell out of you. Imagining his face causes a feeling close to that of an explosion in your chest. You just wanna grab him by his face and shove him down a flight of stairs.

You cannot even count all the shitty things he did to you in high school: revealing your crush on Nijimura Shuuzou not just to the then-basketball team captain, but the entire student body; tripping you in the cafeteria multiple times; stealing your undergarments during P.E. and commenting crassly about how you were two sizes under his favourite adult model. Granted, you never told Satsuki about the last thing. That shit was just too embarrassing—you were glad that no one else was in the room when he threw your bra back at you.

Still, your frustration remains at her. Jogging down memory lane boils your wrath, and you close your eyes to calm yourself down.

He’s just a bully.

A damned bully.

And you would be damned if you are going to willingly spend your weekends in the same vicinity as him.

“Well… Dai-chan likes you!”

You roll your eyes.

Yeah, right.

You would agree if she had claimed that he found you attractive, or he thinks you’re hot. But liking you? Highly improbable—impossible, even.

Aomine Daiki does not seem like he is capable of feeling any emotion aside from boredom and mischief. The only thing he loves, or even likes, is probably his beloved Aya-chan from his gravure magazines.

You’re not even sure if he still likes basketball.

Which is a shame—seeing someone so tall gradually shrinking to the size of nothing, even if you despise the guy, the whole ordeal with whatever-the-fuck Satsuki’s basketball team went through still managed to extract some sympathy from the bottom of your heart. You’ve been paying attention to Aomine, after all, albeit not under any positive light.

“Whatever,” from past experiences, you know better than to argue against Satsuki. “I don’t care anymore. And you know what? Aomine himself and your blatant disregard of your best friend’s feelings—me!—should be enough to fit all five criterias!”

You know that look in her eyes, the way her lips press against each other and how one of her hands is clenched into a fist. 

“I’ve been friends with him for 16 years, (Y/N),” she bumps her fist against her chest in pride. “Best friends, even! I know him better than you do!”

You scoff. “People who like someone don’t bully them, Satsuki. Open your eyes.”

“He isn’t bullying you!” She groans.

“Oh, so now not only are you attempting to kidnap me, but you’re also defending my bully?”

“Argh!” Satsuki hugs your arm again, earning her a groan from you. She calls out your name again, enunciating each and every syllable. “ Pleeeaaaaseeee? You don’t have to pay a single dime! You don’t even have to see Dai-chan if you want to. Imayoshi-san will be there—you like him, right?”

You slant your eyes at her in suspicion, not buying anything she just told you. You just know that you will have to see Aomine sooner or later if you come with her to the onsen. 

“No man is ever worth that much headache, Satsuki.”

“Yeah,” she sighs, still shaking you ferociously. “But it’s Imayoshi-san!”

You decided to come along. Because of course you did.

It’s either that, or Satsuki pestering you for the rest of the month, bringing either Imayoshi or Aomine or whoever she thinks will get your attention.

And Imayoshi Shouichi? Sure. He’s hot as hell.

But is he worth dealing with Aomine?

You like to think not.

Satsuki dragged you along to a basketball team meeting—the one that would be discussing the practice trip and the whole onsen ordeal.

It wasn’t like you needed to be there at all. You know just a little more than the average person about basketball. All that you were preparing for the onsen was your clothes and deciding whether it’s you or Satsuki who should be bringing her hairdryer.

“Why me?” You said, crossing your arms when the attention of the entire basketball team was redirected towards you, and Imayoshi laughed. The only problem they were facing was convincing Aomine to come along.

And you were happy with not being the babysitter. You were happy with twiddling your skirt as you sat on the edge of the stage of the hall, scrolling down your social media timeline as the team argued on how to get that blue-haired freak into coming.

That was until Satsuki ruined your afternoon by offering up your name.

To your surprise, everyone in the team seemingly agreed almost immediately to offer you as a sacrificial lamb to feed Aomine’s ego and coax him to at least come to the trip.

“He likes you,” Wakamatsu scoffed when you asked why, and you glared at him, but said nothing. Out of respect, you guess, to the upperclassman. It’s not like you respect him, though. You’re on bad terms with a lot of the basketball team, but no matter your disagreements with Wakamatsu, you will never dislike him the way you loathe Aomine.

“He does have a soft spot for you,” Imaoyshi mused as he flashed you a smile—and lord , you cannot say no to Imayoshi. Especially when he’s being so nice.

You saw Satsuki smirking from the corner of your eyes and internally cursed her.

That was how you found yourself climbing the ladder leading to the rooftop. 

And that was how you found Aomine with one hand between his backpack and head, and the other holding an obscene magazine.

He doesn’t even spare you a single glance—probably thought you were another manager or even worse: Satsuki again. But the moment you open your mouth to call out to him, his head snaps in your direction, an eyebrow raised in amusement as he pushes himself to rest his body against his elbows.

“What are you doing here?”

You try not to let your rage spill. You try to keep the boiling water down. You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and continue to climb the ladder before approaching him.

Think rational, you think to yourself, he hadn’t even said anything yet.

“The Captain wants to see you,” you manage to say between your gritted teeth, staring down at him before looking away. Imayoshi didn’t ask you to make Aomine see him, but Aomine probably respects Imayoshi more than you, so you try to throw him under the bus just to get out of the situation quicker.

“Imayoshi-san?” He frowns before repeating his initial question: “What the fuck are you doing here?”

I want to punch him.

“You own this roof or something?”

“Calm down,” he scoffs, tilting his head before eyeing your body up and down. You shift your weight into your other leg, ignoring the uneasy feeling on the pit of your stomach. “I just wanted to know.”

Sighing, you glance up at the sunny sky, sweat starting to form on the base of your neck and you are dying to leave at that very moment. You shelter your eyes from the sunlight, despite finding it more appealing than Aomine’s face.

“We’re discussing the practice trip thing—whatever, and also the onsen trip,” you lazily explain, not bothering to hide your disinterest. “Imayoshi-senpai wants you to be present for the meeting. Obviously.”

You cannot fathom the fact that you were explaining his basic responsibilities as a club member to him. What a fucking child.

“You coming with us?”

His focus seems to be misplaced, and you glare at the sky, imagining it was his stupid face.

“I’m going with Satsuki,” you correct, still not willing to look at him. “I don’t give two shits about you or the basketball team.”

“Hey,” he sits up, wrapping his fingers around your wrist before tugging your body towards him. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

You scoff, finally letting your gazes meet before pulling your hand away. “Fuck off.”

He, in fact, does not fuck off.

Aomine pulls on your wrist again, this time hard enough for you to lose your balance and fall, your knees landing on the coarse floor as the bottom of your skirt rides up your thighs. The skin of your knees scraping against the gravelled surface and you curse, jerking your hand away only to immediately shove his shoulder.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” You shriek, annoyed at how he remains unmoving even as you push him again.

He towers you, even when sitting, and keeps his eyes peering down at you.

Maybe it’s the heat that day; summer has just ended, but even the soft Autumn breeze cannot conceal the searing flare creeping up the skin of your cheeks. Aomine slants his eyes and grabs your wrist yet again—you weren’t quick enough to retract away from his athletic instincts, and so, you fall again when he pulls you in closer.

You hiss in pain as your knees drag more against the floor, desperate to find your balance only to grab on his shoulders.

“Hey,” He calls out to you, a lame attempt for your attention. “Look,” he says again, and your dumb ass looks.

He grabs the magazine on his lap and tautens the pages together, showing you the spread where he left off before you interrupted his peaceful afternoon. “(Y/N), remember Aya-chan?”

The girl that ruined your life?

How can you forget?

You cannot hide the distaste in your eyes as your eyes scan her beautiful, black hair falling against the sheer material of her white uniform top. The black lace bra she was wearing underneath is apparent as she pushes her two tits against each other, legs spread to reveal an equally seductive pattern on her panties.

Before you even realise, Aomine’s arm begins to wrap itself around your waist as he holds you up, fingers creeping up the side of your torso, tracing invisible lines before resting on one of your breasts. Your stomach begins to churn in excitement, embarrassingly enough, and you press your legs instinctively when the muscle between your thighs tighten as he continues fondling you.

You circle your arm around his neck under the pretence of keeping your balance.

“Mhmm…” He clicks his tongue, resting his face on the side of your upper arm—his nose touching the side of your tit as his hand palms your other one. “I feel like you’re no longer two sizes under Aya-chan. Maybe a size under? Maybe the same size?”

You grit your teeth. “You talk big. Have you ever seen her outside your magazine? She probably edits her photos.”

He grins, gaze shifting to drink in your frustration. “No, but you’re real, and I’m groping you right now. Isn’t that better?”

“Better than your pretty Aya-chan?”

Aomine raises an eyebrow, humming knowingly. You can’t even believe the word escaping your mouth.

“You have a cute side to you after all,” He muses after a short, mocking whistle. “What do you want me to say? Want me to tell you how much better you are than her?”

“Want you to shut the fuck up.”

“Calm down, tiger.” He laughs, pulling away from your arm. He tosses the magazine to the side, straightening his back to press a short kiss to the peak of your cheekbone. His hand begins to work; he slowly kneads your breast while continuously trailing kisses down to your ears. Your nipples brush against the fabric of your damned lace bra, and he stops for a moment only to tug on where your bud is protruding.

A whimper leaves your mouth.

“Excited are we?” He whispers, voice dropping lower as he presses his lips against your ears. “I like hearing you like that.”

“Shut up,” you run out of words, turning your head to the other side, exposing your neck to him. Which turns out to be a bad idea, as he takes it as a sign to sweep his tongue over the skin of your neck.

“A–Aomine—”

“God,” he chuckles. “Who would’ve guessed that you can be this sexy?”

He pulls away from your neck, and drags his hand from your tits to rub against your torso, feeling the material of your uniform. He presses one hand on the small of your back, pressing his forehead against yours. In a swift motion, he pulls on your body, drawing out a squeak as he lays you down against the concrete floor.

“What if…” he trails, rubbing a thumb under your eye as he hovers over rested body. Your cheeks sear with heat, alongside your chest and the pulsating on your cunt. “...I just fuck you right here?”

“W-what?” You whimper.

He laughs. “I’m hard as hell. You made me this way.”

“You were the one groping my tits!”

“You liked it,” he shrugs, pushing himself off of you, forcing both your legs open as he moves between them. His fingers begin to unbutton your uniform, unravelling the bra you are wearing underneath. Sucking in a deep breath, he stops midway down your torso, and without taking his eyes off your chest, he asks, “Want me to stop?”

Your cheeks flare, and you don’t answer him. You don;t even look at him.

He takes a quick glance at your expression.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’.”

“...Whatever.”

A wide smirk forms on his face, fingers continuing to unbutton your uniform all the way down.

“Do me a favour and get up for a bit,” he murmurs, pressing one of his hands against your back once again to get you to sit up. The feeling of his palm against your bare skin sends you to shivers, coupled with the soft wind whistling between the two of you.

“What’re you—”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as his fingers fumble with the hook of your bra. It took him two wrong moves before getting it right with the third—the fabric loosens around your body, and you pull him closer to conceal your humiliated expression.

“See,” Aomine chuckles after some awkward motion, tossing your stupid bra to the side when he finally gets it off. “You’re so pretty like this.”

“Shut up,” you groan, nails digging into his skin deeper and deeper.

He pulls himself away from your grip, taking a nice hold on your torso to pull your ass up his lap, letting you fall against the hard floor again.

“Goddamn,” he mutters, roaming his touches against your legs. His eyes cannot leave the heaves of your jugs.

“Stop fucking staring,” your hiss, trying to pull your uniform together, hiding your chest away from him.

Aomine scoffs, using one hand to unbuckle his pants. Your eyes travelled from his face to the loose button on his collar to the wet stain on the grey briefs around his hips to the bulge underneath them.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

He tilts his head at your question, furrowing his eyebrows as he takes his cock out from under his briefs. “Fucking you?”

The precum leaks from the tip of his cock, little drops of white strings rolling down his length. He pulls your hips closer to his body and presses it flat against your soaked panties.

He groans at the contact. Your warm slick welcomes him entirely as he presses more against the fabric, rubbing his tip along the length of your pussy.

“S’that feel good?” He whispers, hastily hooking his fingers on your panties, pulling it up your legs, then tossing it to go with your bra. He presses his arm on the side of your head, leaning into you again.

“Don’t put it in,” you whine, trying to hold back your hips from rolling. “You’re gonna get me pregnant.”

“You can’t say shit like that,” he groans against your neck. He positions the tip of his cock against your cunt, and even with your sopping lips, you aren’t sure if you are ready to accommodate his size at all. 

“You don’t want to be a teen dad,” you bite your lower lip, hand going to rub his neck.

“I wanna fuck you, though,” he breathes, using his thumb to run along your wet slit. “Wanna fuck you raw, wanna cum inside’a you.”

You tremble with his words, feeling two of his fingers now circling your pussy. “D— don’t be stupid.”

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers, making your cunt wish it has something to tighten around. “D’you know how long I’ve been wanting to get you like this?”

He pushes himself off of you, and holds your wounded knees as he watches your chest heaves, heavy tits rolling with every staggered breath. He flips your skirt over, exposing even more of your cunt to the chill.

He rubs his length against your slick, his tip now pushing against your swelling clit. “I’d jack off and wonder if you were tighter than my fist,” he wraps his cock with his hand and places it again on your entrance, pushing in a slow, deliberate motion.

Between your drooping eyelids, you saw him inaudibly mutter a curse.

“Used to wanna fight Wakamatsu ‘cus he’d stuff this pussy all he wanted. Right?” He scoffs with a stupid, satisfied smile that you wish you could wipe off his face. “Shame that you broke it off, huh? Did he dump you when he realised how much of a whore you are?”

“Shut up…”

“Well, I don’t care. More fun for me.”

“Aomine—“

“Who else have you fucked in the basketball team?” He grunts. “In Touou?”

“Shut— shut the…”

You slap the back of your hand against your mouth—not willing at all to let him hear you be satisfied with his size—biting down on the flesh as he pushes his cock in. All of his cock in.

“Aomine—”

His cock is dragging against your wall, kissing every possible inch of your insides. Your hole continues to burn as he stretches you wide open, draining every last bit of energy from inside of you.

“ F-fuck…”

Your hand goes to fondle your own tit, rolling your hard nipple between your fingers, sloppily trying to garner more and more pleasure. His dick fills you more and more, stuffing you full, before finally stopping.

“Don’t act all reserved now,” he raises an eyebrow as you mewl out his name. He stays still for a moment, a bud of sweat rolling down his temple before pulling out of your homey cunt. “You don’t have to lie.”

Aomine bites his lips, letting his cock rest between your pussy lips. He sees the way they engulf his dick, moving his hips to rub against your core.

“Letting me fuck you on the school rooftop,” he murmurs, “where’s your fucking self-respect? Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if this isn’t your first time getting dicked down up here.”

Your eyes slant up at him, but he quickly shuts down any of your retaliation by pressing his thumb flat against your clit, slowly circling the nub. Your teeth press down hard on your bottom lips.

“We aren’t— we are not …” You babble, putting a thumb between your teeth to stop yourself from moaning, “...having sex.”

He scoffs, drinking in how your eyes roll with your head turned to the side.

“I was inside you just a moment ago.”

Filthy noise of his cock squelching against your cunt filled the air—if someone were to come after you, they would hear Aomine’s dick fucking your pussy lips.

“Fuck,”Aomine spits, pressing your legs tightly against each other then down on your lips.

“A-ah,” You gasp as he drills into your thighs, the tip of his cock rubbing quick and hard against your swollen clit. “Oh my God—”

“Are you cummin’?” He breathes, one hand reaching to roll your tit on his hand. “Fuck, baby,” he murmurs, and you whine at the nickname. He snickers, “You’re so sexy like this, y’know that?”

Your back arches, little whimpers of encouragement swallow your pride whole as you fall completely into him. Aomine grunts at the expression, seeing the lewd expression on your face. He picks up the pace, slamming his hips against your ass.

“M’gonna cum,” he hisses. “Fuck. Wish I could shoot my load into your tight little cunt.”

“Fuck it,” you manage to spit between your groans, “F-fuck it. Just— oh God, just don’t stop—”

Your words rile him up even more—he tightens his grip on your leg, his fingers bruising your fragile skin. Your head begins to spin. Your slam your fists against the ground and your mind numbing orgasm comes the moment strings of Aomine’s thick, white cum comes flying down your skirt and stomach.

“Shit,” he loosens the grip on your legs, letting them fall even with your still convulsing ass and core. His gaze stays on the tip of his dick, the white cum oozing from it, then to your face—your parted lips, dumb eyes, and the sweat dripping down the side of your head down your neck.

He feels himself getting harder as he watches your plump lips whine, wondering how they would wrap around his thick length, if the colour of your lipstick would stain the veins of his cock.

“You coming to the onsen trip?” Aomine tries to distract himself.

You roll over, blindly reaching out for the bra that he tossed God knows where.

“Fuck you.”

[writella]

More Negan x reader pllsss😔😔😔

pls the emojis are sending me hahahah! let me know how you like it!

Thinking of Negan who daydreams about the reader who always has the cutest outfits when she comes to visit— ♡

cw: negan x fem!reader, smut— masturbation (m) and descriptive allusions to sexual situations, very desperate and depraved Negan because he is in jail, and reader being cute and nice and just too irresistible :) + I wrote this with a little bit of Negan’s crude humor in mind. wc: 2.1k. slightly proofread.

Negan never thought he would stoop so low.

Not like some 20 year old guy living in his mom’s basement; the type he’d talk shit to then completely demolish on a game; one who drinks monsters and watches porn on the daily back in the old B.W. (Before Walkers— for those of you who are uncultured) era.

That was beneath him.

If he needed it, there was his wife of course, or some chic he could hook up with at the bar, but— let’s not remind him of that. That is a wound that needs no further reopening. He was ashamed of it and everything else he’s done enough as it is. Not to mention, it sure doesn’t help that he was reminded of every single heinous act he has ever committed in the A.W. years by the grand total 5 patrons that have visited his cell every- single-god-damn- day.

But now, there was a new thing to cause him great shame.

A girl.

You.

You who gives him his meals on Fridays—Gabriel’s day off. You who just can’t help but stay 5, 10, sometimes even 30 minutes after you give him his food because he always makes you laugh. You, one of the town’s gardeners, who throws in fresh strawberries during breakfast and an extra cob of corn during dinner when you know you shouldn’t. You who didn’t eat your cookie from Carol’s monthly batch she brought from the Kingdom because you gave it to him instead. You with your three sets of overalls and far too many sundresses, yet you only had one sunhat, one pair of gardening gloves, and one pair of waterproof boots.

You were way too generous with him and a little too passionate about your clothing to the point he thinks you must forget you’re living in the zombie apocalypse, but you were skilled, kind-hearted, and you liked to smile; you actually had conversations with him instead of that kumbaya shit Gabriel’s always on; and he’d be damned say you weren’t really pretty. Because you are. You’re real fuckin’ pretty.

And Negan was obsessed.

He thought about you constantly.

Like how he knew you must have always picked off the strawberries stems for him before you put them on his plate. And how he definitely knew you must have offered to give him his lunch and dinners on Fridays: He remembers that Gabriel told him that this would only be a morning thing, that the council advised him to have one day off because he was a new father. But, as dutiful as he is (and as weary as he was to bring someone else around Negan), he agreed only to breakfast. That way, he could sleep in, eat with Rosita and the kids, and not feel like he completely burdened someone else with a responsibility that was only meant to be his. Negan figured you were just that kind, that you must have been the one to offer up your Friday mornings to Gabriel. How you must have been the one to ask to come back two more times throughout the day, you must have. For Gabriel, of course, to help. But maybe you just liked him. He liked imagining that. In fact, he believed it.

He also liked to imagine that maybe you were dressing up for him. He sure loved your little outfits. Your overalls were your work clothes but still, you always looked so darn cute, always finding small ways to accessorize or make it feel more like your personality. It was all so innocent really, but he couldn’t help but find it incredibly sexy— how pretty and oblivious you were to how you looked, how your clothes fit you. He often daydreamed of fucking you in every single one.

The first, the overalls you wore most often for work, was full length and completely baggy on you— he figured it must have been for a man. It was old, the hem was fraying in some areas, and it did nothing for your figure really but it was soft, durable, had many pockets and you typically put scraps of ribbon or lace you found on the straps, right on the shoulder. And his favorite part, you were often wearing a crop top with it. He could always see the side of your breast, your waist, sometimes even a tiny bit more depending on how you turned. Sometimes he thought of you in that tight little floral tank of yours. How one day maybe he’d tell you to, “take it off,” and you’d obediently drop the overalls to the floor; or maybe it would be you, while you’re on your way out: you turn around, gathering up enough courage after all this time to look him in the eye as you take off your boots and unclip the straps and let the denim fall, leaving you in only that tank and your panties. He imagines how you’d push yourself into the corner where the door was, look out the small window to see if anyone was coming, and then you’d face him again, keeping eye contact as you slipped your fingers inside your underwear and started to rub your clit, fast. Wordlessly, his jumpsuit would come off too and his hand would go straight to pumping his cock. Mesmerized by the sight of you being so unlike yourself because you wanted him just that bad, so bad neither you, nor he, could speak. Only pants and moans and grunts and “fucks,” to be heard in the room.

The second and the third was an overall dress and one with shorts. The first time you wore the dress, he remembers it was a Friday that a lot of people had left town. Unfortunately a kid got lost so many people went out to search with the family. Thankfully for Negan though, this included Gabriel, Michonne, and the two other people who tended towards Negan. Gabriel had assigned you to keep a closer watch on him that day, that the days like this where the regular schedule is thrown off is the time he might try something— Gabriel is still angry at himself for the time Negan escaped— so you took it upon yourself to bring an activity: cards. After you won a second time, Negan had playfully thrown his cards on the floor, two of them slipping past the bars and past you. You had turned to see where they went and reached forward on your knees, arm extending to get them. You weren’t directly turned but Negan sure did take the small chance he got to move more towards his right and catch a closer glimpse of your exposed thighs and color of your underwear. After you left that day he imagined that right at that moment he grabs you by the hips, pushed your ass up against the bars and pushed your panties down so he could slide into you, fucking you through the bars as much as he could, probably giving the bottom of your ass red marks every time he bangs into you against the steel.

With the shorts, he thought of scenarios more or less the same as with your full length ones. The difference is that your ass looked great in those shorts and sometimes he imagined you pushing your back against the cell bars so he could push his front against it, giving him some friction. Him telling you that it’s been years, but you’re shy and scared and you don’t want to get caught so you just do that, allow him to rub against you as you look out the window to make sure no one is coming. He imagines that you can't help but start sighing, squeezing your thighs together, moaning when he wraps his arms around your waist through the bars. One hand snaking up to grope your breast while the other cups your mound over your overalls and you rock into his hand as he presses in on you hard. You almost lose your breath, taking a sharp inhale that freezes to a halt. Finally, you'd whisper, “That feels so good,” followed by a whine. And he’d respond to you in your ear, “I know, baby.” A big wet spot is slowly appearing on your jeans and you’re not even looking out the window, your eyes are rolling back until they closed and you’re just making these tiny pathetic sounds because you can’t believe how incredible his touch is, even when you’re given so little, and how bad you’ve wanted him even though you’ve tried to deny it. “No one else makes me feel like this,” you’d tell him, to which he repeats, deep, dark, and sultry as he kisses the back of your head, “I know, baby. I know.”

Lastly, there were those sundresses. Sometimes he’d see you in them when you brought him dinner. If you could, you would freshen up before your own dinner because you got off from work early and didn’t want to be in your work clothes anymore or maybe you were having dinner with friends or Gabriel and Rosita— he often treated you because of your care for Negan on Fridays. Most people liked to pretend Negan doesn't exist, or unsolicitedly proclaimed to you and Gabriel with disgust how they would never dare go anywhere near the jailhouse, that you two must be saints, so he finds what you’re doing to be a big sacrifice. Therefore, he often invites you for meals and he and Rosita are either on the look out or ask savangers to bring back any dresses in your size. But it was a time that Negan least expected to see you that he saw you in what became his favorite dress.

It was on a Wednesday. Certainly after 12am or close to it. People were asleep, but you were sneaking towards his cell. Apparently someone from work had ground some chocolate from her wife that worked as a savager. She gave you a few pieces but you never ate them and forgot about them until you were doing some late night cleaning on your day off, so you came to treat Negan. The dress you were wearing was the tiniest thing he’d seen you in. As in, it could have been a mid-length dress on Judith. It was a deep pink color, almost purple, with small flowers in a different shade of the same family all around it. It had these very short, very slightly puffed sleeves. He could tell that it was a dress that flowed out, but that didn’t stop the material from showing your curves. He knew for a fact that if you bent over you would be giving anyone behind you a show, but honestly with how much your legs were exposed, you walking around in that must have been enough to make anyone’s head turn. Immediately he started thinking about him outside of this cell, as your man, seeing you strut around town in it, how he’d push you to the side behind a house, ask you if you wore it for him, if you were trying to make him jealous, and then fuck you hard. Then he remembers that you’re offering him chocolate, and saying that you know you shouldn’t be here, so he saves those thoughts for after you leave. You start tugging on your dress, trying to make it longer and he thanks you. Truly, that was your house dress. It was always a little snug on the top so you could never wear a bra with it regardless and you had accidently washed in your sink with hot water— you had a knack for not reading clothing labels— and it shrank. You only remember how short it is now after not wearing it outside for so long and seeing how Negan’s eyes widened at you as you came in. Did you do it on purpose? you both now question. You decide it doesn’t matter, telling yourself you were just doing something nice and you run off to bed quickly. As for him, he cares as much as he doesn’t: of course he wants you to like him and he still has a big ego enough to assume you do, especially after tonight, but most importantly you just gave him more fuel for his imagination while he’s stuck here which is enough for now.

After fucking himself when you left, he still woke up rock hard the next morning. Waking up late, he had to act quick before Gabriel came with his breakfast. He used one of his favorite methods of pushing his bed to the side, and placing himself in the darkest corner of his cell, his figure facing the wall. He’d take himself out and as always, start to pump. He places his hand on the wall for leverage and he pretends he’s fucking you against the wall. He imagines that one night you say you can’t sleep and ask if you can sleep with him in his bed. How he would be such a gentleman and say that a lady wasn’t good enough to sleep in his crappy cell, but that instead he knew another way to tire you out. One the two of you could do fast so you wouldn’t get caught. That one always got him to his climax so fast— the thought of you needing him so much that you would come inside his cell, stay on his bed until morning, get in trouble for him. It would make him come like a bullet, hard and fast.

Safe to say, Negan loves Fridays.

[atomicladytimetravel]

Employees Only

Summary: No outbreak AU. Joel Miller owns Miller Contracting and you are his assistant. When Joel gets the bid from a huge client, he celebrates by doing what any sane man would do…banging the assistant.

Warnings: Porn with very little plot. Drug use (marijuana), Boss/Employee relations, Smut/Explicit. Contains sex under the influence of marijuana, nipple play/stimulation, oral (f and m receiving) light gagging, fingering, Joel’s a little cocky about his dick (pun intended). Joel is a simp for you. No physical description of reader, other than female.

18+ only - MDNI

Friday. Fucking finally. Not only is it the end of your work week, but it’s also the end of you spending longer evenings than usual helping your boss put together a bid for one of the biggest clients he could ever hope to acquire. You can’t do any real complaining though - Joel made sure you were well compensated for your extra time and (let’s just face it) he sure is fun to look at. Not to mention the, you know, huge fucking crush you’ve had on the man for…well, for probably about as long as you’ve worked for him. Suffice to say, you’d do juuuuust about anything Joel asked you to do.

You’re making your way to your favorite hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant, the air conditioning in your car blasting to combat the sweltering Texas heat. You have to pass the small office building that houses Miller Contracting on your way to get to the Chinese place and, even though it’s damn near ten o’clock, Joel’s old pickup truck still sits in its usual parking space. Curious, you pull out your phone and select his name from your recent call log. He answers on the first ring.

“Now why are you callin’ me this late darlin’?” he drawls. His speech is raspy and a little slow; he sounds so fucking sexy.

“Oh no reason really, just wondering why I see your truck parked at the office,” you respond. He chuckles a little.

“You stalkin’ me or something?”

You smile and roll your eyes, even though he can’t see you.

“In your dreams, Miller,” you retort playfully. “I’m on my way to get some food and I just so happened to pass by.”

“Well, I was gonna wait until Monday and tell you in person, but…Avalon Premier Hotels accepted our bid.”

You can hear the grin in his voice and you hear yourself gasp.

“Joel, oh my god! That’s incredible news!” you squeal excitedly. On the other end of the call, Joel thinks to himself that he would very much like to hear those first four words again in a much different context.

Unbeknownst to you, Joel has been smitten since you stepped foot in his office for the first time. He internally cursed his HR department that day for hiring the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. But they had done just as he’d asked and hired the best damn person for the job. Joel has told you on more than one occasion that he has no idea how he made it without you.

“I’m just over here celebrating a little. The sound system Tommy insisted we put in the employee lounge outdoes mine by a long shot and I wanted to hear some music,” he explains further. “You should come join me. You know I couldn’t have done this without you.”

You look down at your outfit - a tank top, no bra and a pair of what are quite possibly the shortest shorts you own - and contemplate the offer. You remember you’re off the clock and think, “the hell with it, he can’t dress code me now.”

“Sure,” you accept. “You want some Chinese food?”

——————

When you open the front door to the office, you’re immediately hit by the pungent aroma of marijuana. Ah, now his slow, raspy speech makes sense. When you enter the employee lounge, you find Joel manspread on the couch, a fat blunt dangling from his lips. He’s changed out of the button up you had drooled over all day and into a Miller Contracting t-shirt that hugged his delicious biceps. Nirvana is playing loudly over the sound system and he doesn’t realize you’re there until you plop the food down on the coffee table. His eyes rake over your body unashamedly and you find yourself blushing under his gaze. He reaches for the remote and turns the music down.

“God damn sugar, I didn’t realize I’d be gettin’ dinner and a show.”

“It’s like 103 degrees right now Joel. Besides, I’m off the clock,” you remind him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Hey, ain’t sayin’ it’s a bad thing,” he winks. You eye him suspiciously, but he just smiles innocently. He pats the couch cushion next to him and when you sit down, he holds the blunt to your lips. “You deserve t’relax a little, too.”

You take the blunt between your lips and inhale the smoke, holding it for a few seconds before exhaling through your nose. You’re not exactly a stranger to pot, but it has been a while since you’ve smoked any. It doesn’t take long at all for the foggy feeling to take over, your body feeling weightless. The munchies kick in soon after, and you and Joel practically inhale the Chinese food. As you eat, another blunt is passed back and forth and you’re soon the highest you can ever remember being.

Joel cleans up the remnants of your dinner and you sink into the couch cushions, your fuzzy brain content to just stare at nothing. When he returns, he sits so close to you that your thighs touch. He leans back and throws his arm around the cushion behind you. You’re close enough to smell his cologne and that plus the fact that he’s so close makes you want him, bad.

“This may have been a bad idea. Weed makes me so horny,” you say. You had wholeheartedly intended for that to be a thought and not something you said aloud to your boss. You’re mortified when you realize that the words actually came out of your mouth. Before you can even attempt to apologize, though, Joel responds.

“Oh yeah? You want some help with that?” He looks down at you expectantly and you stare back at him blankly for a moment before answering.

“I…y-yeah, yes,” you stammer. The next thing you know, you’re being pulled onto his lap; the fabric of your shorts is thin and you can feel just how hard he already is beneath the denim of his jeans. He kisses you with the passion of someone who’s been starved of affection. He holds you tightly close to his body, as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he doesn’t.

“Please tell me this is real,” he murmurs into the kiss.

“It’s real,” you giggle, resting your forehead against his.

“You are so pretty. Absolutely fuckin’ gorgeous,” he says softly. You kiss again, open mouthed and tongues swirling together. You grind your hips onto him, trying to relieve the aching between your thighs. He puts his hands on your hips to stop them.

“Ain’t gotta do all that now. I’ll take care of ya soon, understand?” he says sternly. You let out a tiny, pathetic whimper but nod in agreement. He shakes his head and uses his pointer finger to tap your lips.

“Use your words.”

“Yes, I understand,” you tell him.

“Yes what?” he asks, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“Yes sir.”

“That’s a good girl. Fuck, I just knew you would be. You want to be my good girl, hm?”

The whole time he’s been talking, his hands have been roaming farther and farther under your tank top. His fingertips brushing against your skin makes a shiver run down your spine.

“Yes sir,” you reply in a voice barely above a whisper.

He’s cupping your breasts now, thumbs swiping repeatedly over your nipples. The urge to grind on him again is overwhelming, but you hold still. You whine softly when he removes his hands and he shushes you.

“Relax sweet thing. I just want to get this shirt off of ya is all.”

He pushes the shirt up your torso and you raise your arms to let him pull it over your head. He groans appreciatively at the sight of your breasts and pushes them together before burying his face between them.

“So fuckin’ perfect,” he mumbles against your skin. He puts his mouth all over your breasts, sucking and nibbling and making you want to rock your hips so badly you can hardly stand it. You gasp softly when he latches on to your nipple, sucking until the bud has hardened. When he switches to the other side, you can’t help but roll your hips, craving some sort of relief.

“Ah, ah,” he admonishes, his hands holding onto your hips firmly. “What did I say?”

“I’m sorry,” you pout. “I just need you to touch me so bad sir.”

“Oh, is that all?” he teases, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. He pinches both nipples between his fingers gently. “How’s this?”

“It feels good, but I need more sir.”

“Hmmm…no, I think I’ll see if I can make you cum like this first.”

No one has ever tried to make you orgasm this way, and you’re not even sure it’s possible. You tell him this, but he just shakes his head.

“Can I try? If it doesn’t work for you, we can move on, I promise.”

“Yes sir, you can try.”

He smiles softly and presses a gentle kiss to your lips.

“I’m going to squeeze a little harder, just let me know if you start feelin’ anything besides good.”

It feels amazing. Pleasure surges through you and you tip your head back, your hands gripping onto his shoulders to keep you steady. He alternates between pinching and rolling and you concentrate on the throbbing between your legs. He squeezes just a bit harder and it feels so good that a drawn out moan passes through your lips.

“Yeah sugar? How’s that feel?” he asks.

“Good. R-really good,” you respond breathlessly. “Maybe a little harder.”

“How’s this baby?” he asks as he pinches a little harder. There’s a little pain this time, but it’s a delicious kind of hurt.

“Oh!” you gasp, surprised to feel the stirrings of an orgasm. “Don’t stop please, it feels so good.”

“You’re doing so good baby,” he praises, leaning forward to press a kiss to your throat. He keeps the pressure and rolls your sensitive nipples between his fingers. Your eyes flutter and your orgasm is so close you can taste it.

“You’re close aren’tcha? What a good girl; go ahead and let it go baby.”

With his encouragement, an orgasm washes over you and you hear yourself shouting his name. With one hand still tweaking a nipple, he wraps an arm around your waist to keep you steady as you shake above him. When you come down, your eyes open to see Joel looking at you with a mix of awe and adoration.

“That was the most beautiful god damn thing I’ve ever seen,” he says before capturing your lips in a needy kiss. He sets you gently back on the couch and stands above you, squeezing the length of his cock through his jeans.

“God damn, I swear I stay hard for you,” he groans. “You know how many times I’ve shot my load thinkin’ ‘bout you?”

“Probably as many times as I’ve made myself cum thinking about you.”

“You mean we coulda been doin’ this all along?” he asks, still palming himself through his jeans. You lean back into the corner of the couch and press your middle finger to your clit over your shorts while you watch him; something about the action turns you on so much.

“You’re my boss Joel,” you point out.

“I also own this company doll. I can do whatever I want,” he reminds you. He pulls his shirt over his head and you finally get to see the body you’ve been fantasizing about for so long. His shoulders are broad and his arms are thick. His midsection is soft, but you can still see v-lines disappearing into his jeans. He undresses down to his boxer briefs and you watch, mesmerized, when he slowly pulls his belt through its loops. You’re not sure if you’ve ever been more turned on. He kneels in front of you and taps your hip, signaling for you to lift them.

“Up,” he commands. You lift your hips and he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your shorts. He drags them down your legs and is pleasantly surprised to see your lack of panties.

“No bra, no panties? What a naughty girl,” he tuts.

“Told ya I was dressed for comfort.”

He doesn’t respond, just tosses the shorts aside and admires your naked form.

“I can’t get over how gorgeous you are,” he says, shaking his head. He showers your body with kisses, sucking occasionally on your most sensitive places. You’ll be covered in hickeys later, splotchy red and purple reminders of how Joel worships your body. He places his palms on the insides of your knees and spreads them, giving himself a view of your glistening pussy. He spreads your lips with his first two fingers to admire what he considers a work of art.

“Look how pretty,” he murmurs. Before you can utter a response, he leans in and licks you from opening to clit. He alternates between this and kitten licking your clit and you have to fight yourself to not start riding his face.

“Fuck, you got the sweetest little pussy darlin’,” he groans into your center. He hooks his arms behind your knees and begins to eat you out with fervor. He swirls patterns on your clit with his tongue, dipping it into your entrance every now and then. You’re enjoying it too much to notice that he spells “J O E L” on your clit with his tongue, silently claiming your pussy as his.

“Mmm, fuck Joel, it feels so good,” you whine. You feel two thick fingers slide into your entrance and you buck your hips at the sensation. He flattens his free hand over your belly and pins you to the couch cushions. He curls his fingers into your g-spot as his tongue continues to flick over your clit and your moans mix with the wet squelching sounds of your pussy.

“Joel, oh my god!” you shout, your head falling back onto the arm of the couch. And there they were, those four words he’d wished to hear just over an hour ago. He’s never heard anything so beautiful in his life. You hear him moan and you lift your head to watch him. His eyes are hooded and his free hand is in his boxers stroking his cock. It’s undoubtedly one of the hottest things you’ve ever witnessed.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Oh god I’m so close,” you moan. He sucks your clit once, twice and on the third time, you come apart for him. He can’t help the satisfied smile on his face as he watches you tremble, his name tumbling from your lips like a chant. When he pulls his fingers out, they’re shiny with your spend. He spreads them apart and a string of fluid connects them.

“Look at the mess you made for me baby,” he marvels. He brings his fingers to your lips and you open for him; you suck his fingers clean, never breaking eye contact. You hear him moan softly when you swirl your tongue around the digits. He stands and you can see how painfully hard he is through his boxer briefs. You can’t help but stare at the outline of his cock, wondering how he walks around with that thing between his legs. He sees you staring and smirks.

“You wanna see my cock baby?” he asks.

“Yes sir,” you nod, blushing a little at being caught staring. You watch in anticipation as he pulls his underwear down, cock springing free and practically smacking him in the stomach. Your eyes widen when you see his size. He’s thick and probably around eight or nine inches. He wraps a hand around it and strokes a few times.

“Think you can put it in your mouth for me? I wanna see those pretty lips around my cock,” he says, smoothing his other hand over your hair.

“Yes sir, wanna make you feel good,” you respond obediently, sitting up from your reclined position.

“Oh, what a good girl,” he praises. You wrap your lips around his tip and suck the precum seeping out.

“Oh fuuuuuck baby girl,” he rasps. You hollow out your cheeks and slowly inch him in your mouth. You put your hands on his hips as you bob your head back and forth. His hand flies to your hair when you pull all the way back to his tip before plunging him down your throat. You gag a little bit and pull back some, tears prickling at your eyes. You repeat the process until there are tears trickling down your cheeks.

“Shit baby, you give such good fuckin’ head,” he says through gritted teeth. “Look at ya, chokin’ on my cock.”

He lets you gag a few more times before he pulls your head back gently. He looks down at you sweetly and wipes the tears from your cheeks before offering his hand to help you up.

“You did so good f’me baby, gaggin’ on this big cock like a pro. I wanna stuff that pretty pussy now, though. Get on your knees f’me.”

You settle onto your knees, resting your palms on the back of the couch. A stinging smack lands on your right ass cheek and you moan.

“There’s that gorgeous ass I love to look at,” he says, squeezing it appreciatively. He lays his palm flat on your lower back, his other hand wrapping around the base of his cock. He pushes the tip into your entrance and your walls stretch around him. He’s a bit bigger than anything you’ve taken before and it stings for just a moment, making you whimper.

“I know it’s big baby girl. I’m gonna go slow,” he coos. He rubs his thumbs in soothing circles on your hips as he inches himself inside.

“You’re doin’ so good, takin’ me so well,” he praises.

“Oh fuck, I’m so full,” you moan when he’s fully sheathed inside you.

“Yeah baby? You like bein’ full of my big cock?”

“God yeah, it feels so good.”

He squeezes your hips affectionately as he sets a languid pace. He’s only been inside you for a minute and you know that no other man will be good enough ever again.

“Fuck, this is the best god damn pussy I’ve ever had,” he says, as if reading your mind. “Like it was made just for me.”

You begin to push back and meet his thrusts, your bodies moving in sync. His grip on your ass is so tight that you’re sure half moon shaped indentions will be left behind from his fingernails.

“That’s it baby, bounce back on my dick,” he grits out. He smacks your ass and groans appreciatively as it ripples underneath his palm. “Does it feel good baby, hmm? Tell me how good it feels, lemme hear you.”

“F-feels so good. You’re making my little pussy feel s-so fucking good.”

He grabs your shoulder and pulls you up so that your bodies are flush; he moves your hair aside and puts his lips to your ear as his thrusts become faster and more aggressive.

“I’m gonna destroy your pussy this weekend baby,” he says in a gravelly whisper. “I’ve been waitin’ so long. Might have to carry you into work Monday.”

“Oh god, please,” you mewl in response.

“Yeah baby? You’d like that huh, takin’ this cock all weekend?”

“Yes, oh god yes, your cock feels so good!”

He reaches around to toy with your clit and your head falls back onto his shoulder.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you pant. He rubs your clit faster, pressing a frenzied kiss to your lips.

“That’s it, give it to me baby girl. Cum all over my cock.”

You grab onto his forearm to steady yourself as you cum hard around him. He talks you through it, whispering lowly in your ear.

“There ya go baby, let it go. Doing so good f’me darlin’.”

Once you’ve come back to earth, he pulls out gently and sits down on the couch. He takes you by the hand and guides you to straddle him again.

“I wanna see you baby,” he explains. “You’re a fuckin’ goddess.”

You sink onto his cock and he rests his hands on your hips. He guides your hips back and forth slowly and it feels so good that you attempt to speed up.

“No baby, let’s go slow,” he says, looking into your eyes. “Just enjoy this with me, yeah?”

You smile softly, saying, “yes sir” before grabbing his face and kissing him. His arms wrap around your torso and he holds you close, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.

“I want you to be my girl. Tell me you’ll be my girl baby.”

You respond without hesitation, “I’m yours Joel, all yours.”

The two of you share another kiss; Joel can no longer hold back and he plants his feet firmly on the ground so that he can thrust up into you.

“Can’t believe I get to call you mine,” he pants. “My pretty fuckin’ girl.”

“Oh god,” you whimper as he pounds into your g-spot. “Joel, fuck baby, I’m so close.”

“Me too baby girl. Should I pull out?”

“No! I want you inside me. Fuck, I want to feel you cum inside me so bad.”

“God damn, dirty little thing,” he grunts. “Gonna fill this little pussy so much.”

“Oh god, I’m cumming,” you announce, clenching around his cock. A chorus of, “fuck yes, fuck yes, fuck YES,” comes from your mouth. Joel makes a deep, guttural sound and spills inside of you, hugging your trembling body tight.

“Shit,” you giggle breathlessly.

“Yeah? Good?” he asks hopefully, just as breathless as you are.

“Good? Amazing. Incredible.”

He grins and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I could actually go again. How about you let me take you back to my place and I’ll put you in my jetted tub, hm? We’ll take a nice bath, maybe smoke a little more and then I’ll fuck you to sleep. How’s that sound?”

It’s your turn to grin and you give him a long, burning kiss.

“Sounds like an offer I can’t pass up.”

[actuallysaiyan]

The First Time(Aka How Nanami Kento Lost His Virginity)Chapter Four: The Honeypot

Chapter Four: The Honeypot

warnings: fluff, oral sex(fem and male receiving), general cuteness, mentions of porn, mentions of male masturbation pairings: Emo!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader summary: it's been a while since you and Kento hung out, and you as him to dinner one night. he reminds you of the thing he promised he would do the next time you two were to hang out.

taglist: @beneathstarryskies @seireiteihellbutterfly @kenpachisbrat

@marikuchanxo @harlekin6 @gennaray

@markleeisdabestdrug @entirelysein-e. @sugurusprettygirl

MDNI and support banners by @/benkeibear

Masterlist

A couple of weeks have gone by since the last time you and Kento have hung out. You two keep in contact in class and through texting. Lately your conversations have been a lot more flirty than usual. Safe to say that the two of you see each other more than just friends who have fooled around a bit.

Your heart races every time you see him. His knees feel weak whenever you laugh at his jokes. The two of you are becoming quite smitten for one another. It was becoming harder and harder to deny the attraction that was building there.

The more you two spent time together, the more you found yourselves making up something to ensure you'll have more time together. Even in class, you two partner up for every project. You find yourself wondering when you’ll finally go on that date you two spoke of the last time you were intimate together.

And Kento finds himself too nervous to bring it up again. He thinks it was some sort of pipe dream that will never come to fruition. Still, he holds onto hope that maybe you’ll ask him out one day.

That day does come. It’s a Friday and classes are about to be let out for the day. You’re giddy to spend some time not studying and not worrying about any upcoming tests. It’s just going to be you, your couch and a bunch of junk food. But that’s when you spot Kento on your way towards the dorms. You then realize it’s the perfect time to ask him out on that date.

He sits by the vending machines. You sit next to him, noticing the adorable half-smile on his face. He looks at you and his smile spreads across his face.

“Hey are you busy tonight?” you ask him.

He shakes his head. “Nothing planned for this evening. Why?”

“Would you like to go get dinner together? I think we did talk about this the last time we hung out.”

His cheeks and tops of his ears go pink. “S-sure! Yeah, that sounds good.”

You two make plans to meet at the front entrance in about an hour. Kento mentions a cute noodle shop that opened up near campus a few months ago that he’s been dying to try. And with your plans made, you part ways.

Your heart is fluttering in your chest as you walk back to your dorm room. Kento spends a long time debating what he’s going to wear. You take a quick shower and spend time doing a little makeup.

Finally it's time to meet up. You walk towards the front entrance of the university. Your heart is racing as you try to calm yourself. You find Kento in the entryway, doing the same. He’s trying so desperately to take deep breaths and he’s pacing the floor. You smirk as you walk over to him.

“Hey cutie,” you call out. He whips around to face you. 

“H-hey! Ready?”

“Yes, I’m ready.”

You look stunning. He doesn’t quite understand why you want to spend time with him like this. He doesn’t find himself to be anything special. The coolest thing about him happens to be the one thing he has to hide from you. If you found out that he was a Jujutsu Sorcerer, he’s sure you’d probably shun him and never speak to him again.

“Earth to Kento!” You wave your hand in his face, breaking him from the spell of being zoned out.

He chuckles softly, “S-sorry! Let’s go.”

He takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers together. It feels natural but there’s a nervous feeling with each action you two do that makes you feel like a real couple. 

The conversation starts off small. Just little tidbits about class and the homework. He guides you towards the noodle shop. He’s excited to spend this evening with you. The bigger prospect of it all is if he can finally return the favor.

Since the last time you went down on him, Kento has been watching lots of videos on how to go down on a girl. He’s been jerking off to videos of girls getting their pussies licked, wishing he could be the one doing it to you. Even just thinking about it, he has to push all these dirty thoughts away,

You two arrive at the shop, and he finds you both a cute booth in the back. A waitress arrives to take some drink orders and then gives you a few moments to peruse their menu. Kento looks over at you from across the table and the minute your eyes lock, you notice just how much he’s smitten about you. You feel the same way about him.

The waitress returns with your drinks, and you take Kento’s recommendation on some yakisoba noodles with pork cutlets. He orders the same for himself. The two of you wait in anticipation for the delicious food that’s about to be served.

“It smells so good in here,” you comment.

Kento nods. “Yeah, I knew I really wanted to come try it. One of my friends recommended this place.”

Something about this comment makes you feel jealous. You know you shouldn’t be jealous of someone you don’t know, but this is a friend that Kento has never mentioned to you. And though you two aren’t that close, you two have become closer than before. Close enough to call you good friends. Good friends who like to fool around and give each other oral sex.

You manage to change the subject to something else. The topic turns to anime, homework and music. You and Kento have an easy time talking about the things you love. It never really occurs to you that you two enjoy infodumping on one another. It’s sweet in its own way.

The food is delicious. The sauce in the noodles is spicy and the pork cutlets are tender and juicy. Kento orders some dessert afterwards to go. He’s excited to maybe be able to wrap this up nicely back at your place.

Once the bill has been taken care of thanks to your gentleman of a date, he asks if you’d like to split the dessert back at your place. You agree happily, almost oblivious to what he promised you the last time he was over at your place.

The walk back is filled with jokes, laughter and soft flirting. Kento has you in tears from laughing so hard agt his silly jokes. Despite his usual stoic and sullen manner, he is quite funny when he comes out of his shell.

“You know,” he chuckles. “With the way this evening has gone, one might think we’re dating now.”

Your cheeks redden, “Who’s to say we aren’t?”

You tug him closer to you, kissing him softly. He smiles and the butterflies erupt in his tummy. He finally gains a little courage and he leans in to whisper in your ear.

“When we get back to your place, I’d like to return the favor from last time.”

Your knees buckle a little at the husky tone of his voice. You look into his eyes and see how they’ve darkened. You nod your head, taking him by the hand and leading him back to the dorms.

Kento doesn’t remember the last time he was this excited for something. He knows he’s prepared well, but nothing can fully prepare him for what’s to come. He wants to make sure you are so comfortable and happy.

Once inside your dorm, Kento doesn’t hesitate to kiss you. He leads you to the couch, pushing you back gently. His hands are gentle but eager as he pushes up your skirt. His eyes widen a little when he notices the cute little wet patch on your panties.

With the dessert long forgotten, Kento reaches up to hook two fingers into the waistband of your panties. You’re trying not to pant too much, but you don’t even remember the last time a guy went down on you.

“I…I obviously have never done this before.” Kento confesses, though he knows you won’t judge him. “So please, guide me. Tell me what feels good and what I’m doing wrong.”

You look down at him and nod your head, promising to guide him to the best of your capabilities. He pulls down your underwear, and he gets a small whiff of your scent. A low moan rumbles from his chest before he spreads your thighs. Without thinking too much, he pockets your panties.

He’s analyzing you for a moment. You squirm under his gaze before he leans in. His lips are soft as he presses kisses to your inner thighs. Kento slowly makes his way towards your pussy. He’s watched the videos. He’s studied them closely. Now he can do his best, just for you.

What catches him off guard is how good you taste the minute his tongue presses against your folds. You taste musky and tangy, but there’s a sweetness hidden there. He grunts as the flavor takes over anything else. His cock hardens quickly before he can do anything else.

You reach down to gently play with his hair. You’re ready to give advice. Much to your surprise, Kento seems very proficient in what he’s doing. He laps at you slowly, softly. He avoids the clit for a bit, preferring to circle around it to tease you.

“Kento,” you whine. “D-don’t tease me.”

But he’s determined to make you feel so good. He wants you to come undone so beautifully just for him. His eyes snap up to watch you, making sure you’re still doing alright. That’s when he wraps his lips around your swollen nub, and you let out the cutest little whine.

Grunting softly, Kento suckles on your clit with a pressure you never even knew could exist for this activity. He flicks his tongue over the bud in his mouth, noticing what patterns you enjoy the most. Your thighs are already shaking, and his cock is throbbing painfully in his skinny jeans.

Your fingers tug on his hair a little, and he smirks when he feels you grinding against his tongue. He lets go of your clit; he takes a few long, languid licks through your folds before dipping down to taste you straight from the source.

This is what sets Kento off. Your tangy nectar is like an aphrodisiac to him. It’s making his brain all fuzzy with lust. His tongue plunges into you; moans are rumbling from his chest. He’s growing even more aroused than he thought he would from the simple act of tasting you and making you feel good.

His thumb comes up to begin rubbing your clit slowly. He remembers what he saw in all those videos. And then he begins to feel your thighs clenching around him, and this makes him even more excited. His eyes snap up to watch you come undone on his tongue.

“Kento,” you moan loudly. “I’m really close.”

He doesn’t even need to hear more. His tongue laps up to your clit where he pulls it between his lips and sucks on it like before. His fingers come down to your hole and he pushes one of them into you. Your eyes roll back as the pleasure just keeps building.

The room is filled with your breathy moans, the wet sounds of him sucking on your clit and the squelching of your wet pussy. It takes just a few more pumps of his fingers and a stroke of his tongue for you to fall off the edge with a loud cry of his name.

He doesn’t stop; instead he focuses on pulling the most pleasure from you. His mind is so dizzy, his eyes heavy with lust as he continues to pleasure you. Kento then begins to lap at your hole once he pulls his fingers from it. You’re dribbling pure honey to him. 

Your thighs are shaking and you shudder as you’re trying to come down from the best orgasm you’ve ever had. You reach down to push him away gently and he whines at the loss of contact. He looks up at you with a feral look in his eyes, wiping away the juices from his lips. You notice just how hard he is.

This is when you maneuver him to lay back on the couch, and you unbuckle his belt. Kento’s eyes widen when you pull his cock out and wrap your lips around him.

“Just relax,” you say in a husky tone. “Let me show you just how much I appreciated every moment of that.”

[seniouesbabes]

Lily Maymac 🌸💋🍒🌸 @LETAO AUSTRALIA GRAND OPENING

The sushi & champagne is for the grand opening

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Curiosity Killed the Cat (+18)

Pairing: Massacre Soldier Killer x Female Reader

WC: 2600

Summary: You’ve never seen Killer without his mask. It’s a secret that you can’t help but need to be a part of. Your curiosity gets the best of you and Killer catches you peeping. 

TW: !SMUT PURE SELF INDULGENT SMUT! Porn with VERY LITTLE plot! fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampies, multiple orgasms, filthy talk, praise kink good girl etc, size difference. it's just porn.

**Minors DNI!!! 18+ only!!***

— — 

You had been with the Kid Pirates for half a year now and during these six months you’ve learned the inner workings of the crew and the Victoria Punk herself. You knew that the best place to take a nap was in the storeroom next to the kitchen. You knew that Heat and Wire have had a game of Dungeons and Dragons going on for the past 6 years and they play every Friday evening. You knew that Killer hated when you left food on your plate at the end of a meal claiming that “a girl needs her strength.” You knew that every morning at 10:00 AM sharp, Captain Kid would render the ship’s only bathroom unusable for at least the next hour. 

There was something that was still a mystery to you. 

You had never seen Killer without his mask. 

It was something you had wondered about ever since you first met the crew’s first mate. Was he horrifically ugly? Maybe covered in scars? Why did he hide himself from the world? He was always the kindest to you of all the Kid Pirates, making sure you were fed and had supplies you needed when you first joined the crew. Your crude captain left a lot to be desired in terms of intelligent conversation, but in contrast, Killer would inquire about the book you were reading or if you needed a late night snack. 

Tonight you were drawn into the kitchen by the delicious smell of garlic and onions being sautéed in oil and butter. You enter the galley and can’t help but flit over to the stove where Killer was diligently working. You lean over the pot of boiling pasta water and the steam feels nice on your dry, salt-worn skin. 

“Mmmmm, smells so yummy, Kil!” He was nearly a foot taller than you, so it was easy to sneak in-between him and the stove to get a better whiff of his decadent culinary creations. 

You feel his massive chest behind you vibrate as he chuckles. 

“Thank you, little one. I hope you’re hungry.” 

*SLAM* 

“Hey, that shit smells good!” Kid exclaims as he barrels into the kitchen, slightly drunk already. Killer whips his head around to look at his captain. You take this moment to lean your head back and try to peek under the gap between his chin and his mask. You strain your eyes but all you can see is darkness. Your efforts are quickly thwarted as Killer returns his attention to the stove to stir the pasta. 

“Are you making that thing I like? The spaghetti cars banana?” Kid asks as he takes a sip of his beer. 

Killer sighs. 

“Carbonara. It’s carbonara, for the last fucking time.” Killer looks down at you. “Dinner’s almost ready, why don’t you wait at the table?”

You smile up at him, searching the holes in his mask for any clue at his expression. You nod and proceed to set the dining table for the evening meal. 

— — 

After you had your fill of wine and pasta (making sure to gesture to Killer and show him your clean plate to which he gives you a playful thumbs up), you decided you’d treat yourself to a hot bath. You were sure that the rest of the crew would spend the rest of the night drinking themselves stupid so you could enjoy a quiet bath in peace. 

You stroll into the bathroom with your towel and lay it next to the tub. You put the plug in and get the hot water started. You search the cabinets for some sort of bubble bath, but end of having to settle on an unmarked bottle of body wash. You pour the soap into the bath and white, fluffy bubbles start to form on the surface of the water. 

Once the tub was full, you shut off the water and stripped yourself of your filthy, ocean-smelling clothes. You step into the steaming water one foot at a time and gently lower yourself into the bathtub. As soon as you’re settled with your head leaning against the edge of the tub you release a deep sigh. 

After a few minutes of soaking, you find yourself almost drifting off. The doorknob clicking open snapped you out of your daze. The wooden bathroom door creaked open and Killer stepped inside the bathroom. 

You instinctively cover your breasts with your hands, but it goes unnoticed by the intruder who went straight for the sink and counter on the opposite side of the room. You realize that he hasn’t even noticed your presence so you hold your breath, not wanting to startle or upset him. He stands at the sink for a moment with his hands gripping the counter. 

He then raises his hands and reaches for the back of his head. 

Oh my god. He was taking his mask off.

You were paralyzed, breath caught in your chest, eyes locked on the golden locks spilling from behind the mask. He leans down and pulls the mask off and leaves it on the counter to his right. You involuntarily slap your hand over your mouth in surprise. 

You eyes are fixed on the bathroom mirror when you see a pair of angled, sharp blue eyes staring back at you in it. 

“I know you’re there, little one.” 

You gasp. You still can’t move, stuck staring into those enchanting eyes. The only other things you could see were worn white bandages and messy blonde hair cascading from atop his head. 

“Come on out now… I want to show you something.” Killer says without turning around. 

You were mesmerized by his sweet voice, so you obeyed and stood up and stepped out of the tub. You dried off quickly and wrapped your towel around your torso before Killer interrupted you. 

“You won’t need that. Leave it. Come here.” 

You drop the towel and hesitantly approach the man at the sink, his muscles rippling in his back through his blue tee shirt. 

“Jump up here. I want you to help me take the bandages off.” Killer pats the counter to his left. 

You were frozen in place and your eyes were glued to the floor, so anxious about seeing his face. 

“Be a good girl and listen. Up.” Killer pats the counter again, more forcefully this time. 

“Yes, Kil…” You squeak and turn around and use the heels of your hands to pull yourself up onto the counter. You still would’t look up. 

“It’s ok… you can look…” Killer puts his hand over yours as it rested on the counter. You slowly raise your head and see a face covered in bandages, the only parts exposed being a thick pair of dark plum lips and those piercing eyes you saw staring at you from the mirror. You suck in a breath. 

“Here..” Killer pulls your hand and places one of the edges of the bandage in it and helped you begin to unravel it. With each pass of your hand across his face, Killer strokes up and down your bare thigh, causing you to open your legs involuntarily. 

With no sounds other than your own heavy breathing, you finally reveal Killer’s face. You gasp as you pull your hand to back your chest. He was so beautiful. His bright eyes such a contrast against his olive tanned skin. His chin was chiseled and his nose was pointed so sharply. You also notice faint scars littering his cheeks, similar to the ones on his left arm. You didn’t care, he was still handsome to you. 

“Killer… you’re… so pretty…” You reach a hand up and gingerly touch his cheek. He smiles softly. You curse him silently for keeping that smile from you for so long. He laughs and nuzzles into your hand. 

“Not as pretty as you, little one. Will you let me see you, too?”

“W-what do you mean?” You question. 

“Put your legs up, spread yourself for me.” He states as he starts bending your knees to place your feet on the counter at your sides, widely exposing your most intimate area to him. You feel blush fill your cheeks and the tip of your nose. 

“Mmm… now that’s pretty…” Killer coos as he slides his huge hand down your inner thigh to stroke up and down your slit with his thumb, sticky slick coating his digit. You find yourself shivering in anticipation under his touch. He begins focusing his movements on your clit as he rubs it in agonizingly slow circles, working you up at a painful pace. 

You can’t do anything but pant heavily and stare at his hand caressing your naked sex. 

“Look at me.” Killer demands. You oblige and look up at his exposed face. Your mouth hangs open as you keep his gaze, his rough thumb on your clit driving your crazy. 

“Killer…” You whimper up at him. 

“You’re so wet, sweet girl. So ready to get stretched out, hmm?” His lips curl into a devious smirk. 

You nod dumbly without breaking eye contact. 

Killer plunges two large fingers into your soaked hole and immediately curls them up into your spot. 

“Shit, Kil!” You cry out and grab his bicep with one hand, supporting yourself on your other palm. He pulls and tugs his fingers repeatedly inside of you while grinding the base of his hand into your clit. 

“I can’t hold it! I’m gonna! Fuck, Killer!” You whine loudly as you feel the coil in your belly tighten dangerously. You slam your eyes shut and grab onto his arm with both hands, leaning forward into him for support. 

“That’s good little one, hold onto me, just let go for me…” 

“OH FUCK!” You cry out and fluids spray out of your body onto both Killer and the bathroom floor. Your core squeezes and spasms, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as Killer helps you through your orgasm by whispering sweet nothings into your ear. 

Slumped over into his shoulder, Killer removes his fingers from your core and scoops you up in one arm off the counter.

“You did such a good job, cumming so nicely for me. Think you can take my cock now?” Killer asks as he hikes you up in his grip, forcing you to look at him again. 

“Yes, I want it, please…” You say softly, still coming down from your previous high. 

“Perfect.” Killer chuckles and turns to carry you to the table that you usually used for folding laundry. He lays your naked, flushed form gently down on the surface of the table and rips his shirt over his head. He quickly unbuckles his belt and shuffles his jeans down his legs and steps out of them. His huge dick bobs in your direction, uncut tip red and leaking. 

“It… it’s not gonna fit…” You breath out as you stare in awe at his member while sitting up on your elbows. 

Killer grins again and steps between your spread legs, slapping his cock on your abdomen, showing exactly how deep it was supposed to go inside of you. You audibly whimper at the thought. 

“Sweetheart… you like being a good girl, right?” He coos down at you, his massive frame eclipsing most of the light in the room. He rubs soothing circles into your hip with his hand.

“Mhmm…” You sheepishly nod. 

“So you’re gonna lay there and take this whole cock in that tight little cunt of yours like a good girl, hmm?” He teases as he pulls back and guides his tip to rub up and down on your clit. 

“Mmmmhmmmm” You whine and buck your hips up into his touch. Killer uses this permission to press his heavy cockhead into your soaked opening. Inch by inch he splits your body open, the stretch causing you to moan out. 

“That’s right, little one… feels good, doesn’t it?” Killer reaches up a huge palm to squeeze and pinch your sensitive nipple. 

“Fuck, Kil! So full!” You squeeze your eyes shut and try to relax on his giant member. 

“Oh, my sweet baby, I’m not even all the way in yet!” Killer gives you a sinister laugh. He takes his opportunity to push his hips flush against yours and your writhe and cry from the sensation. You had never been this full in your life, he was truly stuffing you to your limits and it felt so good. He rubs your clit with one hand as he pulls back out, groaning lowly as he feels your cunt desperately cling to him and try to suck his member back in. 

Killer begins thrusting his hips, keeping most of himself sheathed deep inside of your walls and his hand gripped your waist to pull you back into him with each thrust. 

“Ah!” You moan and whine, grabbing and scratching at Killer’s broad chest as he molds your insides to the shape of his cock. You could barely breath, the man inside of you so large that you felt like he was in your chest. Killer speeds up his ministrations on your swollen clit. 

“Come on sweetheart… I feel you squeezing me, you’re close again…” Killer picks up the pace of his thrusts and you shriek out at the force of his hips slamming into your ass and thighs. “Fucking give it to me!” Killer presses harder into your clit and you scream and explode for the second time that night, for the first time on his cock. 

Tears were now freely flowing down your red cheeks and you could no longer form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence. You were a babbling, bouncing mess being speared by Killer’s massive girth. You were so dick drunk that your eyes were rolling back in your head. 

“More, more, more, more!” You slur out from your helpless state, spread out on the laundry table. 

“What a greedy little pussy… so fucked out and you want more? Want me to fill you, my sweet girl? Make sure you feel me for days…” Killer punctuated his last sentence with a push to your lower stomach. 

“Uh huh! Kil, please! Cum inside!” You try to nod your head but the force of Killer’s strokes made it nearly impossible. 

“Hnnnggg…” Killer slams his hips deep into yours and blows his heavy load into your wet, waiting walls. He leans down and buries his head in the crook of your neck as his cock still twitches inside of you. As his orgasm subsides, he sighs and slowly pulls out of your spent cunt, leaving a heavy stream of semen to pour out of your hole. He holds himself up above your head and looks down at you and smiles. 

You smile back. You lift a shaky hand and cup his cheek. 

“It’s you…” You whisper as he gazes affectionately into your eyes. 

“It is me. And you’re mine now.” Killer says. Before he pushes himself off the table and grabs your towel to wrap around his waist. After fastening the towel securely he grabs you by your sides off the table and throws your nude body over his shoulder. He carries you out of the bathroom, presumably to his bedroom. 

“What the fuck Killer?” Kid calls from down the hallway, spotting you both. “Why is y/n naked? What the hell are you doing?”

“Going to enjoy my dessert.” He calls back at his captain. 

It was going to be a long night. 

— —

xx

[answer2jeff]

ready for another lie?

// carmen berzatto x reader

song: Diet Mountain Dew.

pairings: nyc chef!carmen x journalist!reader

mdni!! i'm not responsible for your media consumption.

warnings: smutty smut, VERY DETAILED, fem!reader, oral and fingering (f!recieving), porn with plot, drinking, cursing, kinda subby carmy, praise kink, alludes to piv but it doesn't happen, complete and utter filth, i'm giving the people what they want don't look at me!!!

essentially a prequel, 1 year before the start of season 1 of The Bear.

"Fuck youuuuu! It's Friday, loosen up!" A groggy voice yelled from across the bar, cursing you for declining another drink.

You watched your friends flirt with the bartender over the course of 2 rounds of shots; causing harmless fuckery with the several guys who tried flattering them. You were actually bored for once. It made you sick.

You waited for something, anything else to impress you. You tried convincing yourself you didn't have to leave, that your friends wanted you here, and that nights like these were "good for your soul," but there seemed to be no hope.

"Just two vodka tonics. Oh, and a white Negroni. Uh, yes— yes, thank you." You caught a blonde curl from the stool next to you in the corner of your peripheral vision, and you dared to turn your head. You were met by the sight of an oddly familiar guy—and then it hit you like a semi truck.

The man you wrote your final thesis on "the senses creating art," about. Food & Wines best new chef, as of late.

You'd spent an entire year and a half traveling the world (after finally making a name for yourself as a journalist, and snagging a place in Food & Wines top writers) and interviewing the faces of all forms of modern art, representing one of each of the 5 senses.

Casey French, a fragrance designer as the face of "smell." Christopher Knowles, a fashion designer who specialized in optical wear as the face of "sight."

The list went on, until it ended at Carmen Berzatto, on "taste," just 6 months ago. It was September now, and you almost forgot about the 2 and a half hours you took from your day to sit down and talk to him in that studio. Your heart dropped to your stomach as you felt the pores in your palms release a nervous sweat.

You blinked rapidly, wondering if you were really seeing him— out of all the other Friday nights, when he could've visited all the other bars. But he chose this Friday, at this bar, next to you. You needed to say something.

"I'll take a Negroni too, actually. And you can just close out my tab for tonight." You handed the bartender your card after you anxiously fished it out of your wallet, trying to seem completely oblivious to Carmen's stare. Carmen clenched his teeth, his eyebrows raised in surprise as he kept his gaze focused on you.

"Holy shit! Is that—" A slightly younger man nearly yelped while he inappropriately pointed at you, quickly being shut down by his peer, and being told to "shut the fuck up," but Carmen stayed silent. He was dumbfounded at the sight of you.

"Uh, hi. Funny seeing you here," you croaked, swallowing hard when you realized how much of a horrible excuse of a "hello," that was. Carmen didn't seem to mind, dragging his head out of the clouds and smiling back at you as he received his glass.

"Oh my god, yeah. Wow, I— it's good to see you."

Carmen glanced down at your drink, watching you trace your fingertip around the rim of the short glass. He gazed at your fresh manicure, the beautifully layered rings on your fingers, the diamonds on your wrists, the black dress with a slit that exposed your leg up to your mid-thigh. Carmen always thought you looked nice, only being used to your blazers and gorgeous vintage pants that he was a little jealous of, but this was different.

And as if you weren't already anxious enough, Carmen's "friends" immediately arose from their stools and made their way to an empty table, leaving the two of you alone again. Just looking at him and his clean suit and tie made you nervous, especially with the ink on his hands still visible.

"Good to see you too, Carmen," you smiled, cheeks aching as you tried desperately to hide your excitement. Admittedly, you admired him. That wasn't new. But that feeling in your stomach, that aching, yearning feeling was.

"I don't usually do these things," Carmen mumbled, taking a sip from his glass and licking his lips.

"Me neither. It's kinda— I don't know, icky."

You knew Carmen avoided big gatherings like this, but they were usually tolerable thanks to people who "knew him" enough to let him hang around their groups in silence while they practically screamed at each other. But his free time just never seemed to align with anyone else worth talking to... until tonight.

"Icky. Couldn't have worded it better," Carmen tried not to laugh at your expense, keeping his tongue between his teeth as both of you fought back a smile.

"You get it! God, anyway—how've you been?" You inched closer to him, resting your chin in your palm as your elbows were propped up on the counter. You made sure to keep your stare on him and only him, glancing from his nose, to his lips, and back into his eyes. You knew exactly what you were doing, and it was too late to stop now.

Carmen paused, his mouth gaping open slightly as he thought of what he could possibly say to convey that he could be doing better, without completely ruining the mood. He sucked his teeth as he took a deep breath, his eyes glued to the floor until he finally looked at you again.

"Alright, I guess. Managing. How're you?"

"Managing. But really though. Like, has anything changed?"

Carmen thought about your question, realizing how much he seemed to relax tonight—while simultaneously being the most nervous he'd ever been outside of work in the last year. Was it being out and public after a long week? Was it the fact that he still felt so stupid for not getting your actual number, and instead only having access to your business email which was provided by your agent? Was it the smell of your perfume? Was it just you?

"Uh... yeah. Yeah, I guess some things have changed."

He couldn't help but awe at the way you did your hair and your makeup that night, appreciating the tiny details your jewelry and purse of choice added to the look. He hardly ever thought twice about the attractive women he'd run into; making small talk and watching them get bored with his interests.

But now you were here; his fantasies, his desires were here, right next to him; wearing a dress that flattered your cleavage and cinched you at the waist, black heels that tapped against the footrest of the barstool. It made his head foggy, and he couldn't even wrap his head around the encounter.

After finishing your Negroni's over the course of 3 separate conversations that left you with a cramp in your side and your cheeks hurting from smiling—basically hitting it off like you were actual friends, you decided to pull the classic...

"You wanna get out of here?"

Two successful, somewhat well known adults in their lines of work were allowed to be human, right? They were allowed to share deep belly laughs with someone they didn't originally plan to see outside of a work setting, right?

Wrong. It was unprofessional, inappropriate, unwarranted: everything you promised you'd never be around him.

Carmen knew this.

But he was eye-fucking you in that goddamn interview. His tattooed hands rubbing against his thighs as he sat in front of you in the white light of that studio, his gentle voice contradicting his large, almost intimidating arms—it was all you could think about when you wrote your thesis. And now you were gonna be alone with him.

And despite his worries, despite the nervous sweat beading on his forehead, despite his growing anticipation when he admired your figure like a horny teenager, Carmen agreed. The smirk on your face and your manicured nails in between your pearly white teeth was convincing enough. He knew it was risky, given the fact that you still wrote for Food & Wine every couple of months: being more than capable of ruining his career with one wrong, but so right move.

"Yeah, actually."

Unprofessional, inappropriate, unwarranted.

Fuck it.

Carmen closed his tab, gently helping you down from the barstool by your hand. You held your purse close to you while waving a shy goodbye to your friends, who were drunkenly squealing in excitement for you. Carmen's peers seemed to be out of sight; therefore, out of mind. You felt your cheeks go hot, every part of your body tingling. Neither of you knew where you were going. Just not here, and not with everyone else.

He couldn't even think about the fact that he would be back in the glowing white light of the kitchen that following Monday, and you completely forgot about the paper you had to start by Sunday night. And it was way too late to care about any of that now.

You decided your apartment was best.

"Fuck.." Carmen grunted under his breath, his eyes hooded while he felt his pants tighten against his throbbing length. He spread his legs wider as you palmed him, trying to ease some of his tension. You hovered over him as he lied down, sprawled out on your leather couch. His hands were clawing at anything he could reach; your hair, your thighs, the straps of your dress until he pulled it down to your hips, and finally the clasp of your bra.

His bare chest heaved, red and covered in sweat. His dress shirt, tie, and jacket were somewhere in the mess of your apartment. He was honestly too desperate to care.

"You okay with me takin' this off?" Carmen whispered as he cupped your cheek, keeping his fingers prepared to unclip your bra with your permission. He admired every inch of your flushed face as he waited for answer.

"Mhm," you soothed him as your hand moved up and unbuttoned his pants the second your lips moved onto his. Saliva pooled in your mouths with every kiss, turning into a sloppy mess of tongue and teeth. Carmen struggled, but eventually tossed your bra onto the living room floor, his mouth just centimeters away from yours as he exhaled heavy breaths.

You sat up straight, pulling Carmen up by his shoulders and smashing your lips back into his. He pulled sway to breathe, taking it upon himself to peel the rest of your dress off. His tattooed hands gently caressed your plush thighs, his calloused fingers sliding under the hem of your lace underwear. He practically worshiped you like this, planting open mouthed kisses along your jawline and neck.

Carmen needed to hear you, feel you, taste you.

"I wanna taste you, if–if that's alright," he placed one last kiss of gratitude on collarbone before he looked up at you through lust-blown, half-lid eyes.

Your entire body began to heat up again, and Carmen's words went straight to your needy cunt. You could feel yourself dripping through your panties while you put a hand over your mouth in embarrassment, nodding frantically.

"Please," you begged, a mixture of a moan and a silent cry escaping. Carmen's hands detached from your thighs, your hips writhing up from the loss of contact. Without another word, he nodded his head, letting his hands travel down your hips as he got down on his knees in front of you.

Carmen took a shaky breath, glancing from your pleading eyes and back down to your bottom half. He hesitated, choosing to plant one more line of kisses from your tits down to your navel before giving you one last look for permission. He put his hand between your inner thighs, asking you to spread further. You blinked slowly while he peeled your panties off of you, wondering if he would notice how wet you already were.

Unprofessional, inappropriate, unwarranted.

Carmen licked his lips, admiring the sight of your puffy slit in hesitation. With your body sprawled out in front of him, your pretty face looking down at him...how could he not eat you out right on that leather couch?

"I've got you, baby," Carmen cooed, his eyes wide as he nearly drooled over the glossy puddle in your underwear. He gently placed your calves over his shoulders, his calloused hands scooping the underside of your thighs.

Carmens wet tongue licked a bold stripe from your hole up to your soaked clit, not a drop of your arousal going to waste. You grew impatient, the kitten licks he gave your sensitive bundle of nerves driving you mad.

"C'mon, Carmy, I—" You whined, pleading that he'd pick up the pace. Carmen decided not to hold back, giving your throbbing clit aggressive sucks that he'd later soothe with slow, flat-tongued licks.

You bit down on your hand while the other entangled in his hair to muffle the sinful noises you made. Carmen felt his stomach turn at the sound of his name falling from your gaping mouth.

Carmen took note of how much you loved his tongue diving into your weeping hole, earning whimpers and cries of "please," and "oh, fuck, Carmen." He groaned into your pussy when you caught a grip on his hair, placing his head even deeper between your thighs. He moved his hands from your thighs and up to your waist—forcing your jerky hips down on the couch. He wanted to make sure you didn't miss a single bit of pleasure.

"Can I.. uh, can I try something?" He stammered, picking his head up with his chin shiny with your liquids as his hand crept back down, prying between your folds. Carmen needed to keep every part of him busy so he wouldn't have to focus on the aching bulge, already leaking precum in his boxers. He felt his thighs clench as he fucking whimpered beneath you.

"S–sure.." You nodded frantically again, tossing your head back as Carmen carefully inserted a digit into your core. You whimpered in slight discomfort as he stretched you out, which he immediately reassured softly.

"Shhh... you're alright. Jus–just relax f'me, yeah?"

Carmen waited until you whined again; his fingers started at an agonizingly slow pace until he heard your moans getting a little too quiet for his liking. He picked his pace up, sliding another thick finger into your hole and ramming into your g-spot. He hesitated, afraid to hurt you—but you quickly dismissed his worries when you urged him that you needed more. Carmen aligned his tongue back with your pussy, sucking hard before comforting your desire with lapping at your clit.

"Oh my god, Carmen," you felt that familiar knot in your stomach, your grip in his hair tightening while your moans grew louder and louder. You didn't care if your neighbors could hear you through the thin walls of your apartment. You didn't even think about what this would look like the morning after—because none of it mattered. Not with Carmen's head between your thighs.

Carmen could tell you were close, prioritizing your pleasure before he could even register how badly he wanted to cum into his boxers. He couldn't help but buck his hips forward, begging for friction while every noise you made just inched him closer to his release... but he needed this to last.

"You close? Let me take care 'f you," he mumbled, breathing heavily against your pussy while he tried his best to stay still. It sent shockwaves through your body, and you tried desperately not to scream his name.

"So... so close.. Fuck, it's too much," your useless protest was cut short by a loud moan, muffled by the sweaty palm of your hand. Your heart pounded in your head as your walls clenched around Carmen's fingers. You weren't used to anything feeling this good in months.

"C'mon baby, you can handle it. You're alright. You're doing so good. Takin' my fingers so fuckin' good," Carmen's raspy voice comforted you. His tongue finally came back to relieve you, his fingers slowing down so as to not overstimulate you, as much as he wanted to.

"Carmy!" Your eyes screwed shut as your thighs shook. You chased your high, practically grinding into his face as his nose bumped your clit while his fingers remained at work.

—

"Jesus..." You panted, grunting in disappointment when you felt Carmen slide his fingers out of you. He licked them clean while your eyes were screwed shut as you tried to recollect yourself. Carmen planted a kiss on your temple the second he sat back up onto the couch, pulling you into his lap by your waist. You felt his erection against your crotch, his already sticky mess combining with your wetness yet again.

"You okay?" Carmen cupped your cheek, pushing any sweaty strands of hair out of your face. And just when he thought he couldn't have felt more proud of you, he melted into the feeling of your lips against his.

You didn't know if you'd ever see him again, you didn't know if this night would magically become niche hot gossip within your respective groups; all you knew was that you wanted him. His lust blown eyes on you, his hands gripping your waist as he bent you over your kitchen counter and fucked you dumb, the sound of sex echoing through your apartment.

Maybe some other Friday night.

[thecapricunt1616]

Patchouli - (C.B. oneshot)

𝓢𝓷𝓲𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓽 (𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓑𝓣𝓒): Carmen would stumble in - long after you’d fallen asleep, albeit cursing himself for not being home earlier before you’d fallen asleep to your true crime shows, so you’d kneel at his feet as you usually did, and untie his sneakers for him, before gently coaxing him out of the shoes like the earth-ridden angel you were since his back was fucking aching after his near 16 hour day. He would silently slink into the bathroom, take a quick shower - just enough to scrub off the dirt, sweat, and kitchen smell from the day. Before he’d carefully pad to bed and do whatever he could to assure you felt oh so good to start off your solo-weekend together.

♡ Summary: carm is a munch. What else do you need to know?

♡ W/C: 1300

♡ Posted Date: 4/20/24 (blaze it)

♡ A/N: pure porn lol (prequel to Peonies)

♡ Warnings for BTC: smut. Pussy eating ass smut. this is fully unedited because I’m a lazy sack of shit we die like men.

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡

Carmy was nothing short of addicted to the taste of your pussy.

Like - he nearly found it embarrassing for Christ’s sake. He would get hard thinking about it, Jesus, his fucking mouth watered.

He’d tried the best food in the whole world- the most talented chefs would nearly beg for him to taste their art - but nothing was more decadent than your homemade liquor on his tongue.

He worked extra late on Friday evenings, since it was the busiest night at the restaurant. Date nights, birthday celebrations, any celebration- really that was big enough to warrant going to one of the only Michelin star restaurants in Chicago usually happened Fridays.

Carmen would stumble in - long after you’d fallen asleep, albeit cursing himself for not being home earlier before you’d fallen asleep to your true crime shows, so you’d kneel at his feet as you usually did, and untie his sneakers for him, before gently coaxing him out of the shoes like the earth-ridden angel you were since his back was fucking aching after his near 16 hour day.

He would silently slink into the bathroom, take a quick shower - just enough to scrub off the dirt, sweat, and kitchen smell from the day. Before he’d carefully pad to bed and do whatever he could to assure you felt oh so good to start off your solo-weekend together.

Carmy would come into the bedroom, damp, dripping curls from his shower, and ever so gently crawl between your sleeping supple, thick thighs. He felt welcome. As if you were asking him- no. Begging him- to devour your sweet silky luscious heat as soon as he’d got through the door.

This was coming home, at least to him- his true home was between your thighs, sucking and lapping at your folds until the both of you were sore. When you’d whine about it in the morning, he’d kindly make up for it and place the gentlest, most filthy kisses to your mound and nether lips, whispering sweet sorrys to your cunt and ‘promising to be gentler with her next time’ - he never was.

He hummed gently, dragging his heavy, knife calloused fingers over your clit. Your hips inadvertently jerked into his hand, it was only natural.

There would be times he would just simply lay there after an orgasm of yours, in a filthy, horny trance, thrusting his expert fingers oh so carefully into your seeping (embarrassingly wet) and over sensitive hole - slow and light due to the muscle being so so overused, almost achingly so - before taking them out and spreading the digits to see how sticky and messy you were.

“mmm someone was playin’ with herself before I got home?” He said, just barely a whisper.

He pressed his lips to yours, before gently taking the right one into his mouth and sucking the overly sensitive flesh between his lips. His tattooed hands gently rub over your thighs, squeezing the skin, hard enough to leave bruises, and his eyes fluttering shut, every stress of the day melting away. It was as if the man had an oral fucking fixation with your clit, with your folds. The way he’d suck and flick and kiss them - it was like he was playing a goddamn game.

He eagerly spread your lips with his ring and middle finger admiring how wet you were. “Absolutely - how dirty mmm? My filthy little girl” he he whispered, tonguing the wetness over your weeping hole and holding back a moan at your sweet, musky flavor.

Carmy relished in the way your core clenched around nothing, and the sweetest most gentle whimper fell from your lips. “Shhhh” he cooed, placing a kiss to your clit that made your thigh twitch

“I’m takin care’f ya’ - don’worry” he said softly, licking a hot wet stripe from the curve of your ass to the very top of your slit, flicking his tongue over your clit in the way that made you shiver.

Even in your sleep, you widened your legs for him to give better access to the delicious sensation that was lapping up the moisture that was starting to drip and tickle. It wasn’t long until you were roused, a small sleepy smirk coming to your lips.

“Mmmm thanks Bear” you muttered, lazily finding his curls and gently pushing them off his forehead. He reached his hand up to your stomach, palm up to you, lightly wiggling his fingers on your flesh. Allthough you refused to open your eyes, you felt the action and knew what he wanted.

You found his hand easily, lacing your fingers together and pulling his hand to your lips, kissing each knuckle as he kissed and sucked your folds. As he nudged your clit with his nose you gasped lightly, looking down at him in the dim light.

“Yes- like that baby- feels good, work ok lovey?” You gently tug his curls and he looked up at you, lustblown eyes and a wet nose he looked like a puppy this way.

“Mm. Ok. Marcus f’got a huge cake order. Kinda’a mess” he muttered before sticking out his tongue, slack jawed and adorable, slobbering over your pussy like a man starved.

You nearly giggled at the action but couldn’t as a moan passed your lips you couldn’t hold in if you tried. “Such a good puppy” you moaned quietly “so good t’me Carmy, I fuckin love you” you gasped, thighs nearly smushing his cheeks as he nipped at the sensitive flesh

“That’s new” he hummed, kissing your clit as he reached down with his other hand and slipped 2 fingers easily in your dripping entrance. Your back arched off the bed, electricity shooting through your thighs and abdomen, core clenching around his fingers, nearly sucking him in.

“Cus’y so good bear. Such a good boy” you praised, gasping as he starts flicking his tongue over your clit “shhh-ahh! Mmm! Thas’it. Thaaaatsit” you slurred, the coil in your stomach heating up and threatening to snap- and soon.

He moans into your clit, the vibration causing your hips to jerk and he leans his strong forearm around your luscious hips. “Still” he mumbled the order, thrusting his tongue into your hole.

“Jesus fuck! Don’t fuckin st- ohhhh” you let out nothing short out of a pornographic film like wanton desperate filthy moan

“Cmon, cum f’me pretty girl” he urged gently, replacing his tongue with his fingers and nuzzling your clit with his nose like a man starved as he sucked and nibbled your folds.

You whined, squeezing the hand you were still holding tightly. “N-now-nnnmmmmhhh” your orgasm washed over you like a tsunami, the aftershock being the strongest part. His lightest touch was causing you to jerk and twitch under him at the overstimulation.

“Shhhh angel. Relax. Relax” he coaxed, rubbing over your stomach with a light touch. “Such a sweet girl. My sweet girl” he caressed your thighs with a sweet touch for a few minutes, pressing gentle kisses to your skin before getting up.

You’d inevitably whine and beg him to come back, your core feeling cold and neglected without his presence. “Time f’sleep gorgeous.” He’d gently pet your hair, pulling you into his chest.

“I want French toast for breakfast.” You muttered softly, nuzzling into his chest, smiling to yourself at his tickly chest fuzz.

“Ye?’ We got bacon too, went shoppin’ fore I came home” he muttered into the skin of your neck tiredly.

Now that he’d fulfilled his daylong craving- he was exhausted and ready to sleep as soon as he could.

“The best boyfriend. Can I wake you up t’morrow with my mouth?” You asked, gently rubbing your hand over his half hard bulge.

“Please. Y’never gotta ask princess”

Fin

[mggsv]

Personal Chef

poc f!reader x Toji Fushiguro (18+)

summary: As you finally land your dream job as a personal chef, you quickly find out it’s not what you though it would be.

warnings: age gap (reader is 23, toji is 28),food play, squirting, oral (f receiving) , SLIGHT porn with plot, praising

“You will be given your own living space in the penthouse in order to cook breakfast, lunch and dinner for the Ceo.”

“Right.”

“You will stay Monday-Friday, weekends off. You cannot stay here during the weekends. If you cannot work this way speak now.”

“It’s fine.”

“Perfect. You will not bother, speak to, or interrupt the Ceo at any given time. You are not friends, you are not worker buddies. You cook his food, that is it.”

“Right.”

“You will do the grocery shopping. Here’s what he usually likes to get, and his diet plan. Please stick to this list. If he asks you for something else then all means go ahead, however don’t get too comfortable doing so. This is your job. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Any questions?”

“��no“

“Great! Follow me.”

You stood there while the blue eyed, white haired man went on and on about your new life. You held a white folder in your hand, information about your “boss” who you weren’t supposed to formally meet, and various to-do’s. In fact you were to be completely invisible, “like a maid” the man had said at some point. You bit the inside of your cheek, almost regretting this. You hated having to adjust to new things, let alone staying at someone else’s home? The life of a private chef was something, but it was your dream. You finished college at the top of your class. You could do anything, and you chose what the little girl all those years ago wanted.

You certainly didn’t expect anything of the job other than the amazing pay and life style, instead you got that and more.

“Toji…” You moan, back arching on the marble kitchen counter. His tongue licking at your folds, licking at the syrup he poured just a minute before. “Fuck baby.. you make this yourself?” He groans, having another lick. Your juices mixed with the sweet tasting syrup went straight to his cock.

“M..Mhm..” Your hand tangled in his hair, eyes shutting tightly. You felt his lips suck on your clit, a sweet humming coming from him. Your legs twitch feeling his sticky fingers re-enter you. The sound of your juices as he finger fucked you drove you wild. Your hips rocked with the small thrusts. “Good fucking pussy..that’s my girl.”

“F-Fuck fuck-“ you whine, legs twitching at the feel of another finger slowly working its way inside. “My good fuckin girl.” Toji cooed. your hips rock against his face, his nose buried deep into your heat. You let out a small breath, feeling your cunt gush over Toji’s face. Eyes rolling as he slurped every drop, careful not to waste. “Let it all out..” he moans.

Toji never wasted his food. He always ate until he was full. His big hands pushed your thighs back, spread wide over the counter. You whimpered, your nerves skyrocketing at the thought of another maid catching you in the act with your boss. His tongue entered you quick, the muscle flicking in the right places. “Gonna cum..” You push his head further. “m’gonna cum Toji-“ He lifts his head up, eyes staring deep into yours, slick glistening on his chin.

“You gonna what?” He says. You balance yourself on your elbows. Your chest moved as you panted. Toji’s eyes trailed the pierced nubs with nothing but hunger. It was lunch time after all, and you were his personal chef. “nothing- sir.” You breathe. Toji reaches beside you, the homemade syrup still warm. He wastes no time pouring it over your breast. “That’s too bad,” he’s pulling his shirt over his head, hands moving to unbuckle his belt. His thick cock springing free, hard and leaking. “I’m fuckin starving.”

[allidoistrytrytryy]

a moment's silence when my baby puts her mouth on me (cove holden x reader)

ao3 version here

summary: Cove Holden and the black underwear (from Patreon moment 2, if you know you know), except it's his own surprise on a random Friday (smut with feelings)

word count: 3,116 words

tags: smut, porn with feelings, porn without plot, light dom/sub, switching, sexual intimacy, they're in love your honour, author has been feeling insane about cove for years and lately about the black underwear so here we are (female reader implied but i tried to be as non-descriptive as possible, can be a male trans reader too)

You were exhausted, your fingers rubbed at your eyelids and at your forehead, trying to take the headache away.

You had had a large project at your job, long hours, and planning that took too much of your time. You came home late, too late, so late sometimes Cove would already be in bed or asleep on the couch, always waiting for you (even though you had told him to sleep, not to wait up for you if you were too late, but he insisted every time).

You sighed at the thought of your fiancee. You missed him too much, missed being able to have time with him, going out on weekends or lazing around after work to watch a show you would fall asleep through anyway, snuggled in his warmth.

You hadn’t been able to do that in more than two weeks, always working, always in contact with your coworkers to continue the project even deep into the night. You were glad today was the presentation, and then you were taking a few days off, away from everything.

You felt the fear in your gut at the presentation. You were nerves on legs, as you always were when you had to talk in front of an audience. You knew that would never change, the way you spaced out, waiting and waiting, at your desk.

Your phone buzzed on your desk, which took you out of your thoughts and the ball in your stomach. A smile crept up on your face before you even had the time to read what the text said, at the name appearing on your screen.

Cove.

Romeo: You have this, show them what you’re made of. Love you. <3

You smiled hard, your finger rubbing at the heart emoji with the text, at the picture you had set as his picture on your phone. A picture of him asleep on your couch, snuggled under a blanket, his long hair freed from its usual low bun.

You hadn’t been able to resist the urge to take a picture, and your fingers had gone through his hair.

You sent him a heart back, now fired back up. You could do this, go home and kiss your fiancee senselessly until you fell asleep snuggled into his warmth.

And the presentation happened. It went well, and you shared smiles and compliments with your colleagues. Sighs of relief. You could all go home peacefully tonight.

Which you did. You sprinted to your car when the hour came, your colleagues’ laughter following you down the elevator. They all knew you were eager to be home again, to be with the fiancee you talked about too much. (You couldn’t help it. You loved Cove Holden too much, loved him since you were eight. What could you do?)

The drive went quickly and you arrived at your little place a bit further from the city in record time. When you parked in your spot, next to Cove’s car who was already there and home, you realized you had forgotten to send him a text. You bit your lip, hoping he hadn’t waited for it.

Five unread texts with Cove inquiring about the presentation, worried. Shit.

You climbed the stairs of the apartment complex quickly, your keys already in hand. You entered.

”I’m home! Sorry, I completely forgot to answer your texts, I’m so so...” You interrupted yourself by the sight of your living room, your coffee table with a range of plates and food, and even a cake.

Hands sneaked around your waist, a kiss on your hair, a chest against your back. Your fiancee enveloped you, mint, citrus and this particular ocean smell in your nose and you finally relaxed. “Hi sweetheart, how was it?” he asked gently.

You turned around in his arms and, as always, you had to crane your neck to look up into his eyes. You hadn't been fortunate with height while Cove had had too much of it over the years. His arms circled your waist. “Went smoothly, we can finally breathe now,” you answered and got on your tiptoes to kiss him quickly, which he answered with that giddy smile he never lost around you. “Now, what’s all of this, Covie?”

”Well, I knew it would go perfectly since it’s you,” you rolled your eyes at the remark but the smile betrayed you, the blush even more. “and wanted to celebrate it. I got your favorite things from your favorite places and got a cake.”

Cove looked like it wasn’t even an effort, and it wasn’t in your relationship. You both made so much effort, so much again and again for each other that it was just normal. But, it didn't change the fact that you were always touched by every gesture.

You still couldn’t phantom how dear you were to this man sometimes. You still couldn’t understand how your heart never seemed to stop expanding for him, taking in every piece, every detail, every word and action from him.

Your hands dragged his face to you, to kiss him deeply, like you had wanted to since you had finished the project. He sighed against your lips, that content sigh, his lips and tongue entangled with yours. An intimacy you could never get enough of.

”I love you so much,” you whispered against his lips and his eyes misted over, your crybaby, always yours.

”I love you too,” he whispered as if he didn’t want to break the calm of the moment, wanted to stay in this moment suspended in time.

Until you dragged him to the couch to drape yourself over him, eating and barely paying attention to whatever was on the TV as background noise. You talked about the project. He talked about his day and his own job.

When you finished, he pushed you to the bathroom. “Go take a bath, relax, I got the dishes,” Cove reassured and you pouted.

”But, I can help, I didn’t get dinner so it should be me,” you whined in his shoulder and he laughed while pushing in the bathroom while you couldn’t do anything.

”No way. Go, now,” he kissed your cheek and you still pouted as you got into the bathroom.

You did well on what he had told you to do, spending too much time in a hot bath until it got cold, your body wrapped in your comfortable fuzzy robe. You finally stepped out to get to the bedroom, itching to put your pajamas on, and fall asleep next to Cove.

The too-large shirt was in your hands, actually just one of Cove’s shirts you had stolen and never returned, as you did since you were teenagers, even before you were officially truly together. You hadn’t realized why the light was so dim, hadn't realized Cove was on the bed.

You turned your head slowly and you felt your knees wobble, felt your eyes widen until they almost popped out of your skull.

You had seen Cove in all types of clothes and nakedness over the years. You knew him and his body by heart, the moles, the sleeve on his right arm that you loved to kiss all over, the dips, and where the redness would creep. But right now? You were speechless.

Cove fucking Holden was sat against the headboard, half-lidded eyes on you, but you could see the blush high on his face and ears and down his neck. He was naked, well, except for the underwear but it was the underwear that made you want to scream.

It was black but it barely hid anything, the green happy trail visible from that delicious V-shape you liked to bite, down a dangerous low dip. Straps followed his hips and they showed his hipbones. You almost wanted to ask him to get up and show the back, to see how it looked over that ass you loved too much.

”Surprise,” he simply said, wanting to sound sultry but ending up at excited, embarrassed, waiting.

The shirt slipped through your fingers, forgotten on the floor, and you were still speechless. “What...are you...” you swallowed hard, heat at the back of your neck, on your ears.

Large shoulders were shrugged and he tilted his head, “I… we talked about how I wanted to try some...lingerie out and I thought it would be a good idea for a celebration.”

He was still waiting and you could see how waiting affected him, the redness ever more present on his face and down his neck, the quick jostle of his knee. You approached the bed slowly, eyes laser-focused on him.

You could feel a restraint slowly unfurling in your gut, a wait. You had missed Cove and his hands on you, you had missed the everyday intimacy but you had also missed the sexual intimacy you shared. You both couldn’t have enough of each other sometimes, a pull between your hearts and your bodies.

Your hands settled on the edge of the bed, and you crawled slowly to him, putting up a show for his eyes and his eyes only. The robe dipped down and he gulped, his eyes on your cleavage, on your bare chest visible underneath. You smirked, finding a place between his legs, hands on his thighs, so so close to the dangerous piece of underwear that threatened your composure.

”So, you decided to gift my eyes with this, baby?” you whispered, a finger playing with a strap at his hip. “You’re way too good for me.”

Cove gulped again and you wanted to bite at his Adam’s apple, leaving marks on his pale skin until everybody would know. He shook his head.

”What? You don't agree that you’re too good for me?” you asked, a little pout at the words, your eyes on his face. You were playing the game of how sultry you could be, how much you could push it until his own restraints broke. “Maybe I should show you.”

Your hands traced the straps and the edges of the underwear. Your mouth found a nipple as your hands traced but never touched where you could feel a hardness growing and growing. His moans hit your ears and you smiled, your tongue playing from one nipple to another.

”You don't have to...” he tried to say, his moans high, and god, did you love how vocal he could be. He was always so vocal, so good.

”I want to, so be a good boy, baby,” you whispered, bit at the side of his chest, so muscular, so pretty. He moaned higher, hips bucking against your chest. Your mouth traveled down and down, following the green trail of hair. “Driving me crazy with this, Covie.”

Your hands caressed the hardness over the fabric, but your mouth found the tip already out with how hard he was. The dip was so low that the tip was the only thing visible, so your tongue swirled around it, the saltiness hitting your tastebuds. You moaned, fingers at the straps.

”Oh my god," Cove whined loudly, hips bucking again, the tip making its way deeper into your mouth. “Shit, sorry sweetheart, I didn't mean to...”

You shook your head and pulled at the straps downward, until the underwear sat underneath his cock and you pushed more and more into your mouth, desperate for more, to make him feel even better.

”Fuck, fuck, fuck," you heard him repeat and you wanted to smile, to tease him like you always did because he only ever cursed in those moments, so gone, so desperate.

More and more, until you felt tears in your eyes, until you breathed through your nose, hands at what you couldn’t fit down your throat because of how big he was. But you loved it, thighs clenching to relieve the ache that formed in between.

It wasn’t about you, even though you could spend hours between his legs, to look at his head thrown back, his eyes closed and face scrunched up, like now. He looked out of this world, long hair around his head, down his shoulders, redness still at his face, sweat down his neck and on his chest. You couldn’t believe he was yours still.

”Shit, sweetheart, I’m gonna… I’m...” Cove’s voice rang out and you felt how tight his balls were getting, see how his abs tightened. He was close, and a part of you wanted him to cum in your mouth, but you had another plan.

You popped off his hardness with a loud pop, saliva around your mouth, and his head rose up, his eyes opened in question. You crawled back up his body, your hands opening your robe, until you could throw it on the floor beside the large bed. You settled on his lap, hands on his shoulders.

You swatted his hands away before they could fall on your hips, and you saw the small pout on his face that you kissed away with a laugh. “Sorry, no touching baby, be good a bit longer for me,” you kissed along his face, nibbled at his neck, leaving a few hickeys as your hips moved, your wetness rubbing on his cock.

Cove whined still against your shoulder, “But you look so good… And you’re so wet,” he moaned, groaned. “Let me touch you, please,” he begged but you shook your head, your hips rising up to catch the tip at the edge of your wetness, of your warmth.

You slowly sunk down, your own moan unable to stay in your throat at the delicious burn his cock always gave you, that fullness that always took your breath away. You hummed as you sank lower and lower.

His eyes were closed tightly, his body trembled when you finished back on his lap, the length fully inside you. You stayed still, enjoying the moment, and his hands stayed beside his hips, beside the underwear that was still underneath his cock, trapping his legs in place. He was taut, all muscles tight and restrained.

”Please, please, move," Cove begged and you could only answer with your hips moving up and slamming back down.

Your moans intertwined with Cove’s, as you rode him, slowly, building a faster rhythm with every breath, every moan. You rode him, a deep pleasure building in your stomach, pleasure built with his moans in your ear, your teeth at his shoulder.

You rode him until your thighs trembled and his hips, so restrained until now, slammed up in response. You almost screamed his name. It had hit that one spot deep inside and your body had fallen down onto his chest.

All restraint broke in his body, his hands at your hips, so tight you knew you would feel them still tomorrow, “Sorry, I can’t...” he breathed out, before his hips slammed up again and again, his hands guiding your hips down every time.

“Fuck, Cove, Cove,” you repeated his name, your forehead on his shoulder, your eyes on the spot that joined your two bodies together, his cock sliding in and out.

His name on your lips broke him again and you lost all control you had on the situation. His hands manhandled you on your back, almost ripped the underwear that had started it all off his legs, and he had your legs folded against his chest before he slid back in.

The breath was knocked out of your chest, your hands tugged at his hair, and your eyes were on him always. The muscles bulging with every movement, the sweat trickling down, the pure ferocity and desperation on his face.

Cove wasn't always pushed to this side of dominance, if not ever. Not to this degree. You both liked to switch, to play with what were the limits and new things, but falling back into lovemaking most of the time. Here, your gentle sweet Cove was gone, to leave a rougher Cove you loved too, your moans encouraging him.

”Don’t stop, Cove, don’t stop," you begged, hands desperate in his hair, hips moving to answer every thrust deep inside, against the spot. You could barely talk and he could only groan and moan, his own mouth busy on your nipples, back arched.

You were getting closer and closer, and he could feel it, the way you arched more and more, the way you were tighter and tighter around him, the way your moans only got louder. His eyes were on your face, a hand moving down from your hip to the nub of nerves, so wet from everything.

Your head tilted back into the pillow, “Cove, I’m… I’m gonna cum,” you moaned, warned and he hummed in response, his thumb insistent on your clit, in time with every thrust. Your back arched even more, the pleasure exploding in your stomach, behind your eyes, and in your whole body until you were left a trembling thing underneath Cove.

His thrusts slowed down, but your hips moved and you shook your head. “No, don't stop, need you to cum,” you croaked out, voice spent, hands still tugging at his hair.

”I don’t want to hurt you,” Cove moaned over you, eyes half-lidded on your face, but you shook your head again. You tugged him closer, forehead against his.

”You can’t hurt me. Please Cove, I love you, please,” you begged, his thrusts were erratic and you could tell he was close.

”I love you, fuck, I love you so much, I love you," he repeated against your cheek, and you hummed, answered back, until he moaned louder.

Until the final thrust, until he came deep inside you with your name on his lips and you kissed his face.

Cove detangled himself from you only to bring back a wet washcloth, to wipe you and himself. You only got up to go the toilets, fast and impatient, to find him back in bed, under the covers.

You cuddled in his arms, your cheek on his shoulder, legs entangled to look at him. Content, beautiful. It was magical, as always, to go to sleep with him every night, to have him be the last thing you always saw at night.

”Well, that was a nice surprise," you giggled and he smiled lazily. “I’ll be the one to surprise you next time.”

He groaned lightly but laughed, forehead hitting yours gently. “If you want me to really die, sure,” and you could only laugh, his lips on your eyelids, yours reaching up to kiss his eyebrows. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.”

You hummed, “I love you, Covie.”

His smile grew larger, and his cheeks turned red as always, “I love you too.”

And you fell asleep, safe, happy, home, where you belonged.