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jinwoosungs · 15 days

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09/10/24; 06:15pm

{ 18+ headcanons / drabbles }

[ your first time with them ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

your first time with sylus happened on a whim; it was completely unplanned and simply occurred because you had both gotten so needy for each other.

sylus was away on a business trip, and you were left to your own devices, waiting for the day he could finally return to you. days turned into weeks, and the weeks piled up until close to 2 months had passed.

so when sylus announces his return one late evening as you were making your dinner for the night, you caught sight of his stupidly handsome smirk and dropped all of your utensils. with a should of his name, you jumped into his arms within seconds of him stepping into the kitchen, lips already latched on to his in a searing kiss that you didn’t wish to remove yourself from.

such deep kisses was void of any grace and poise, simply serving as evidence of your mutual yearnings as teeth were felt lightly nipping against your lips. the moment sylus slides his tongue within the hot confines of your mouth, you knew that you were an absolute goner.

he swallows your moans with his searing kisses, arms already wrapped around your frame as he carries you back into the safety and privacy of your shared bedroom. becoming so caught up in his kisses, you didn’t even realize when he had laid you in bed until you felt the soft padding of the mattress beneath your back.

clothes were carelessly tossed to the ground, making a pile that mixed his pristine suit with your regular sleepwear, leaving you both bare. each of your gazes were filled with hunger, eyes becoming dilated as you let the desire and love you felt for sylus fill you to the brim. despite how you had never been intimate before, you knew that sylus held all the patience in the world when it came to you.

butterflies were felt erupting across your abdomen when sylus places his hands on your hips, keeping it still before gently spreading your legs. heat was felt dotting against your cheeks when his devilish grin meets with your gaze. with how devastating your lover was, it was hard to keep your heart in check as you felt its rapid palpitations nearly choking you, filling you with an almost sweet anticipation.

featherlight kisses trail across your inner thighs, earning a gasp from you when sylus pulls your hips even closer to him. the tip of his nose coupled along with the sensation of his lips against your slick heat makes your hands go into his hair immediately, instinctively keeping him in place.

you felt him breathe in the scent of your arousal and notice the way he trembles in response. “you smell divine, sweetheart.” his voice takes on a guttural tone, making the slickness seem to increase as you could feel your cunt practically aching with need for him.

“sy, please… i-i… i need you…”

you beg for him, earning a pleased grunt from the onychinus leader. he says your name one last time before surging forward with the intention to completely devour you. a wet tongue prods and reaches deep inside of your heat, allowing sylus to fully taste the sweet nectar of your arousal all while letting out a groan.

from the way he was so eagerly eating out of your cunt, it was clear that he was becoming addicted to the sheer taste of you. with your moans echoing throughout the room, sylus laps up all that you had to offer, seeming to pull at something felt deep within your abdomen, ready to snap within mere seconds-

yet as quickly as that sensation of release came, it was ripped away from you within mere seconds when sylus removed his hot mouth from your now aching pussy. several whines of protests fall from your parted lips when you suddenly felt an uncomfortable intrusion becoming sheathed inside of you.

through your pleasure-filled haze, you became dimly aware of a sharp pain that was felt when sylus’s hips suddenly rammed into yours. your breathing becomes labored, yet it seemed like sylus was having an even harder time keeping his composure.

“f-fuck… you’re so tight.”

feeling your heart racing, you look down and finally saw how sylus had thrusted the entirety of his erect cock deep inside of you, remaining connected to you. you let out a low hiss at the sensation of being filled to the brim with sylus, the prior emptiness you felt now being gone as you lay back in bed.

with tentative movements, you move your hips in an upward motion, causing sylus to let out a growl in response, with his hand clutching at the sheets. “kitten-“

“move sylus, please… i’m begging you!”

letting out a single, broken grunt of your name, sylus tosses both of your legs over his shoulder, shamelessly pounding into you as you felt what heaven was like thanks to his cock alone.

it was your one year anniversary with zayne, so of course he had to do something special to celebrate this special occasion. because he loved you so much, zayne actually took some time off of work in order to spend the day with you.

and your lover did not disappoint you one bit.

the moment you were awakened with zayne’s gentle kisses, he had spent some time spoiling you. from cooking you your favorite breakfast, to taking you out on shopping expeditions and a dinner date, your heart was filled with utter and unconditional love for him.

so it came as no surprise when you decided to do something special for him, which came in the form of giving him your first time.

the moment zayne unlocks the door to your shared home, you trapped him against a wall and fell to your knees for him. his eyes go wide, with him letting out a sweet stutter of your name, watching you with pure fascination when you manage to unbuckle his belt and pull down his pants and boxers.

you bask in the way zayne flushes a deep red, getting to work while freeing his half-hardened cock as you gently stroke him, working him to full hardness.

i love you; you silently tell him, hoping that you could convey such intense feelings for him with your gaze and actions alone before leaning forward with your mouth wide open, allowing your tongue to wrap around the head of his cock. zayne’s reaction was immediate as he tosses his head back, hands already delving into your hair as you bobbed your head back and forth on his cock.

you hum at the unfamiliar taste of him, licking away the beads of precum that fell from his mushroom tip. despite never giving a man oral before, you allowed zayne’s pleasured grunts and groans to further motivate you. you clench your eyes shut, now using the tip of your tongue to trace at the pulsating veins that were felt across the entirety of his length.

the more you gently sucked and prodded at his cock with your tongue, the more frequent zayne’s moans became, and you were so close to having him twitch before releasing everything that he had into your awaiting mouth had he not have pulled you away from him.

his gorgeous eyes were now dilated, hiding its once brilliant hues as zayne holds you within his embrace before kicking aside his pants and boxers. “no, i refuse to release myself in your mouth. what i want more than anything else is to give you pleasure, too.”

unable to take you back to your shared room, zayne places your pliant form against the couch, spreading your legs for him while quickly pumping his cock, making sure that he remained hard for you. your cunt was burning with need for him when you caught sight of his thick cock from your periphery, mouth watering with anticipation.

with one final groan of your name, zayne grips at one of your thighs before directing his erection toward your entrance, allowing his tip to trace at your pussy lips, collecting your arousal to ensure that his cock was wet before sheathing himself deep inside of you.

broken moans were heard coming from zayne, leaving you breathless as you slowly got used to his large size. there was a discomfort felt within your lower abdomen, but the way zayne let out such soft groans was enough to make the moisture flood within your core.

desperate for him to move, you ran on instinct, trying to chase your release when you moved your hips in an upward motion, successfully snapping the man out of his trance when he meets every single one of your thrusts with his own, his hair already turning damp as he focused solely on making love to you, basking in each new sensation of pleasure that was felt while remaining connected to you.

“friends should know how each other tastes, don’t you think so?”

xavier had somehow convinced you to start a strange, friends with benefits relationship with him. the young hunter had no interest in befriending other members of the opposite sex-

with you being the sole exception.

at first, you felt nervous about giving your first time so carelessly away to a man that was always “just a friend” to you, yet xavier became utterly passionate, stating how he was inexperienced with intimacy as well and just wanted to do something to change it.

“i don’t like the idea of sleeping around, and i would much rather give my first time to someone that i trust. someone like you.”

when xavier confessed such feelings for you, you couldn’t help but feel the same way. in fact, you trusted xavier just as much as he trusted you. and the fact that you found the young man to be incredibly handsome-

well, why wouldn’t you try giving your first time to him?

after much deliberation, you end up succumbing to each other’s curiosities, taking off your clothes before getting onto your bed. with xavier’s face against your slick core and his hardened cock over you, it was clear what he wanted to do.

so as his tongue was felt flattened against your cunt, you lean up to open your mouth and wrap your lips around his cock. you feel the way he twitches slightly once your hot mouth was felt surrounding the entirety of his erection. while you tried to focus on pleasuring him, you also became distracted with how eagerly he was devouring your aching cunt, acting like a man starved as he sought after every last drop of your arousal. you were so close to releasing-

yet strangely enough, xavier managed to resist climaxing within your mouth. as he continues his ministrations against your slick heat, you ended up releasing way before he did. upon reaching your completion, your mind was left in a haze, your mind barely registering the fact that xavier had already removed his erection from your mouth and was already hovering over you.

his arms trap you against the bed, sky blue eyes hidden beneath an eclipse that served as evidence of his lust for you. taking a hold of your hand, he places a kiss at the back of it before gently moving his cock back and forth against your cunt.

“forgive me… but i lied when i said that friends need to know how each other tastes.” you meet with his gaze, only to feel your eyes widen when he suddenly surges forward to kiss you deeply.

you found yourself returning his kisses, delving your hands into his golden locks of hair, pulling him ever so closer to you. your sudden actions make the tip of his cock enter your cunt, the sensation making you both toss your head back.

xavier takes a hold of your hips, gripping them tightly with both of his hands, “i’m sorry… i love you… and i want to make you mine.”

your eager moans and the way you wrapped your legs around his hips were all the confirmation xavier needed to surge forward, claiming you as his entirely when his cock was nestled so nicely inside of you, allowing him to drag his length back and forth as he basked in the squelching sounds of your lovemaking.

when you told rafayel how you were ready to take your relationship to the next level with him-

the young artist wasted no time when it came to preparing you.

his eyes became clouded over in a sea of blackness, hiding the color of his irises from you when he manages to scoop you into his arms and walk back with you toward your shared bedroom.

he takes his sweet time, taking off your clothes, unwrapping each one of them in a manner that was reminiscent of a man opening a precious gift. with each newly revealed inch of skin came with rafayel’s passionate kisses against them. he left no part of your body untouched, worshipping you from head to toe with little hesitation.

only when he finally slots himself between your legs did you realize just how far he would go to pleasure you. with his slender fingers and tongue continuously thrusting and prodding against your entrance, you found that it became increasingly difficult to keep all coherency.

gone were your thoughts as you lost count of the sheer amount of times you had came into rafayel’s eagerly awaiting mouth. you had released so many times, becoming so overly sensitive in the process that you even started to cry.

only when the lemurian had brought you to such a brink of desperation did he finally allow the last thread of his control to snap, tossing aside his clothes before pressing the tip of his erection against your core.

embarrassingly enough, while rafayel slowly worked his way inside of your sweet cunt, you felt your walls tighten around him, already cumming the moment he was fully sheathed inside of you. such a sensation was enough to make your lover hiss in response, yet he manages to hold on, refusing to climax so soon.

“hah… i should have known better than to over stimulate you… but- it’s because of my actions that i know you won’t be in pain.”

you were unable to speak coherently when rafayel suddenly thrusts in and out of you at a steady pace that manages to take your very breath away. not wishing to separate yourself from him for even a single second, your arms wrap themselves around his neck while your legs do the same with his waist, pressing him even closer to you.

his cock manages to reach even deeper inside of you, earning a gasp from the man as you felt yet another release approaching. you begged rafayel to keep going, basking in the way he speeds up his movements, feeling his hips piston in and out of you at a breakneck pace, begging him to never stop as you prayed that this moment would last forever.

end notes: life has gotten a little stressful for me, so i decided to destress while writing more thirst posts about my favorite lads men 😭 currently unedited; but i’ll make any changes once this is posted!

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

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mrsoharaa · 10 months

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because i was inspired by a tiktok lol

You and Miguel get into a silly little argument before getting ready for bed. After finishing up your nightly facial routine, you crawl yourself into your shared bed. Pulling the comforting sheets over your body with slight assertiveness and aggression, wishing nothing but the pure serenity and peace slumber that was calling to you.

Exhaling one last huff, you felt the bed dip and creak on the opposite side of your own. Overwhelming heat basking off from his looming body, searing breaths prickling over the shell of your ear as wide, large hands gently caress the mount of your covered hips.

You were still angry with him, wanted nothing more but to forget the dumb argument and drift off into a sweet, sweet trance. To numb all of your senses and irrational plundering thoughts.

But一 Miguel was making it that much harder to simply forget.

His lingering touch always made you mold beneath his comforting, torrid graze. Soft, low whispers of feeble apologies in his Spanish tongue and cute pet names always tugging profusely at your conflicted heart.

No, you shouldn't give in. You were mad at him and he needs to know that.

Stand your ground.

Don't give in.

You try your absolute best to compose yourself into giving in to his subtle attempts of wooing you to his luring charm. You could still tell he was still on edge by the tensity in his muscles and heavy breaths, but the fact that he was derailing his pride and ego just to sincerely apologize and get closer to you made you question your own prideful distributions.

You tried.

But the moment his lips were seamed against your ear lobe, hands wrapping around your body to pull you back into his towering frame as he draws delicate shapes amongst the thick sheet shielding your cute belly一 all sense of pride and determination immediately deteriorated from your puttied mind.

"Lo siento mucho, mi amor... No quise decir nada de lo que dije antes...." he whispers huskily into your ear, feeling your body intensely tense under his grasp. He kisses the outskirt of your ringing ear, tenderly. ("I'm so sorry, my love… I didn't mean anything I said before...")

"let me hold you...I just want to hold you, hermosa" he clings onto you more desperately, strong arms tugging you much closer into his firm chest as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. Warm breaths permeating into your warm flesh.

Instantly, you turn over to face him, cup his face and push your lips onto his with such vigor and passion. The taste of his full, sweet lips melding with yours blinding your petty decisions and tampered with your heart and mind.

Your fingers softly caress the solidity of his jaw, pressing your body into his as you hum lowly against his addicting, silken lips. Feeling him immediately, promptly follow your lead, you carefully pull away to take a breath. Allowing him to do the same, but with a tinge of distraught and dejection craning to his hefty breath.

Lidded large, round eyes of mocha following your every motion, finally connecting with your own wandering eyes.

"How can I stay mad at you when you talk to me like that, Miguel?...god, I hate that you have that sort of power over me" you breathe heavily, ghosting your lips just centimeters away from his as you feel the pads of his fingers slip into the sheeted cover and onto the bare of your torrid skin. Your own digits subtly grazing over his warm cheeks.

He gently places his forehead against yours, delicately tugs at your hips and inches closer to your lips.

"I could say the same thing about you, cariño..." he whisks mindfully.

"Just let me embrace you...I want to wrap myself around you and hold you...let me love you like you deserve, mi corazón"

#it's the waist pull from behind while laying on your side for me 😵‍💫🫠#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderverse #atsv #he is just so SOOO

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chiliyue-archived · 1 year

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Does he fuck or make love ?

Includes; Dazai, Chuuya, Ranpo, Kunikida, Atsushi, Nikolai, Fyodor

Tags; SMUT/NSFW, fem!reader. rough sex, biting, teasing, overstimulation, nicknames(Belladonna; Doll), pure filth

Fucks

How can he resist when you're his cute little Belladonna? To DAZAI, your whines are like blissful bells to his ears, each moan causing his cock to twitch just the slightest bit in your mushy walls. Each time you look away from him, his nimble fingers go to the bring your face back towards his, chin grasped firmly with his fingers- and when he isn't busy keeping your attention, the pad of his thumb is making work at your core coaxing more whimprs fall from your mouth. Hickeys and blemishes of purple dots litter around your shoulders and inner thighs, his pace was relentless but you just felt so good. Even as tears start to prick at the corners of your eyes, Dazai pays little mind, he may even tease you for it- he came to recognize all your repsonses, he'll quickly become aware if anything was truly causing you discomfort. Afterall, his cock feels so warm and welcoming in your cunt, it was a wonderful opportunity to fuck you up.

" My my~ my sweet Belladonna, barely started and you're sobbing. Worry not, my darling- I'll make you feel good, just keep those pretty eyes on me alright~"

He's a little jerk that loves to see the sheer desperation in your face as you work yourself off his dick. RANPO is quite lazy and a tease at that, he'll make you work for it, laying down, hands behind his head(that or fumbling with your chest) all while your muscles strain to keep bouncing on his hard cock. He quite addicted to the sight befor him; your fucked out expression, lips glistened with drool all by your own doing. He makes you beg for it, telling him what it is you desire. Tongue clicking that you were 'simply giving up now?'But soon enough, his hands plant on your waist and he proceeds to thrust into you without any remorse. His smirk only grows at the mewls you make as his dick hits every right spot. And he adores how you prettily arch your back off the bed, arms reaching out to him for support. Even as you reach your release, his pace doesn't falter, the filthy sounds continuing to echo in the room. His mouth only adds to your torment, spewing out teases that turn your face a crimson red. Any attempts at shielding your burning cheeks is met with a gentle slap against your thigh.

" Don't coward now, Y/N~ not when your were just begging me to take over~ I must say you look adorable like this."

FYODOR loves to see you beg for his cock. He'll over stimulate you with his fingers, tongue, kneading your skin with greedy hands and he'll do this for hours. He pays little mind to your whimpers or how you feebly grabbed onto his shoulder for support. 'Tell what is it is you truly want, my dear.' He would say, lips lazily burshing agaisnt your cheek and fingers curling within your heat. At that point all you could do was babble his name incoherently, chest heaving as shivers ran down your spine at the immense pleasure. Fyodor would tut, you became so dumb with just his fingers alone, tears pricking your irises and thighs clenching together begging for more. Soon enough he'll have your legs wide open, bottoming out with just one thrust. That was in itself was enough to make you see stars, but Fyodor's hips were already setting a brutal pace slapping into you again and again and again. A smirk grew on his face as tears started to prick the corners of your eyes; seeing your fucked out expression becomes a sight that engraves itself in his brain forever, impaled and marked by him and him alone.

" You take me so well, darling. Now don't start crying, you were asking me to fuck you like this just a couple minutes ago. Now be a good little dear and take what I give you."

Makes Love

KUNIKIDA doesn't like saying he fucked you- no, the term is too vulgar and not a proper representation of the feelings he has towards you. Yes, he can rather rough- especially when you're brat- but in many instances, he's very attentive and places your own pleasure before his own. Even now that he has you all spread out against the mattress, his length deep within your most sensitive spots, his always being aware of your comfort. He's aware of his own strength, his cock can easily spear you in half and make tears run down your face, but unless provoked otherwise or requested by you, he keeps himself in check. He has a pace that makes you both feel good, his lips brushing your cheek whilst you mewl beneath him. Sweet nothings and praises drips from his voice at every chance he gets, making sure you know well just how good you make him feel; a low groan would escape him whenever you clench around him, fingers taking you vacant hand or drawing shapes at your cilt. His pace gradually speeds up, adoring the way you lock your legs around his waist. He wants to make he fulfill all your desires, afterall he feels good if you do as well.

"A-ah- you take me so well, my love. Such a good girl, taking me so well. Just a little more, okay? Just like that."

ATSUSHI finds every part of your body to mesmerizing; he always so gentle and careful when kneading at you skin, asking if 'this was okay?' Or 'do you feel good?' He reciprocated your red blush, setting a gentle pace enjoyable to the both of you. Small love bites littered your shoulders, areas in which you can easily cover up, only for his eyes to view alone; he would press chaste kisses to those marks his way of apologizing for being too rough. Soft moans and mumbles of praise would escape him whenever you carded your fingers through his hair. His eyes would pinch shut as gave his length kitten licks, his words of encouragementmeeting no ends. In intimate moments such as these, he finds himself subconsciously grabbing your hand, gently squeezing it as you both approach your high. Atushi gently wipes away your tears as he thrusts into you a bit harder, his thighs trembling with how deep he went. As he approaches his climax, the only coherent words were his expressions of 'I love you.'

" So good, you feel so- good. Ah- y/n, I- Love so much, I can't p-properly express it-! Please cum with me, please-"

Both?! Both !

He tries to be gentle(unless you otherwise wish for him to be rough) and make you feel so good and loved, but the moment you clench around his cock, CHŪYA loses all control. Your legs were wide, bascially folded in half beneath him. His thrust only speeds up, defined arms holding onto your hips- bruises were sure to form with his grip. But the moment tears prick the corners of you eyes, Chūya would pause. As much he was close to his own sweet release the last thing he wishes was for you to be in genuine pain. A chuckle would escape him as you mumble how good he made you feel, your words causing his dick to twitch, only adding to your pleasure with a whine. His hips resumed to rut against you, his lips connecting with many parts of your body; collarbone, chest, wrist. All before finally connecting with your lips, muffling your cries as you reach your climax. He may be rearranging your insides as his tip kisses your cervix and rubs on all the best spots, but that's how he shows he loves you.

" You must be addicted to my dick given the look on your face. If you keep squriming amd making those sounds, I won't be able to hold myself back. But thats maybe what you want, isn't that right Doll?"

It's quite difficult to read NIKOLAI'S expression, especially in heat of the moment when pleasure rocks through your entire body with each precise movement of his hips. Your face is buried within the pillows, your euphony of sounds muffled as his long fingers wrap around the curve of your neck. He applied menial pressure but it was enough to send jolts of pleasure and fear down your shine. How long have you been in this position? You've lost count. Perhaps it was cruel of Nikolai to make you continue like this, panting and grabbing the headboard for support; but the sweet moans and hiccups you echoed back at him- the way your tongue rolled his name when he thrusted into the right spot- it was addicting and he shamelessly succumbed to the pleasure. He would chuckle at the whimpers you make as his thrust grow harder, the sounds of your filthy actions echoing in the room. Purple and red crescent moons formed along the sides of your thighs where his fingertips gripped onto tightly. Along with forming blemishes came the display of bites along back of your neck. He would bite down hard and without worse, his cock twitching at your whines of pleasure and pain. But not matter, he will gladly lick away your tears while his words say the most meanest of things with a dabble of praise in between. But with how clench around his cock, he knows youre adoring it just as much. He could be unpredictable, but he knew how to make you so weak.

" My pretty darling, is the pleasure too much for you, hm~? But I must admit, you feel wonderful, clenching me around like that~ I feel as though I can do this all night. What do you say, care to test the limits~? "

#dazai smut #chuuya smut #ranpo smut #fyodor smut #nikolai smut #kunikida smut #atsushi smut #bsd smut #bsd x reader #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #ranpo x reader #fyodor x reader #nikolai x reader #kunikida x reader #atsushi x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs smut

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superblysubpar · 5 months

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thank you so much for requesting anon, and thanks for your patience in waiting for this. Hope you like where I took it 😅 Is it a hushed conversation between kisses? Idk. Do they kiss? Kind of. Do they need to be quiet? yes?

1164 words

warnings: SMUT (finger sucking| PIV intercourse - creampie | technically you're camping & have to be quiet for this reason, but it's not really explicitly stated) | my blog is 18+

Despite the hot breath at your temple dotted with sweat, goosebumps rose on your skin. It seemed only Steve Harrington could pull them from you, the sort of primal reactions and sounds your body couldn’t deny.

He had a knack for it - a useless talent to some, an addiction if you asked him, a weapon he absolutely knew how to wield in your opinion.

Maybe it’s the way his hand curled on your hip. The way the rough pads of his fingertips soothed against heated skin. How they skated over elastic and snapped it against your body, accompanied by his mouth opening against the hinge of your jaw he’d traveled down to.

Not kissing you. Not licking or sucking. Just opening his mouth and breathing.

You hated that you whined.

Steve smiled against your neck, he couldn’t help it. And if he wasn’t painfully hard against your ass, he’d do this all night long.

He let his nose drag lower, then back up, indulging in the scent of you - mixed with the lake and bonfire, something sweet and smoky - addicting, like a freaking smore. Like he could have twenty of you and never be full or sick from such a sweet treat. He paused just behind your ear as his fingers slipped over the wet cotton in front of you and he felt your body go rigid against him, like you were holding your breath.

Everything was louder - your heartbeat in your ears, the crickets, the faint crackle of the dying fire now popping and hissing loudly as you waited. Your bare legs slipped against the cool sleeping bag, fingers digging into the flannel pillowcase as your teeth did the same to your bottom lip.

When Steve finally brushed a finger over cotton, giving the part of you throbbing and aching for attention, you gasped, hips wiggled quickly, searching for more, and he pulled away as soon as they did.

You groaned, loudly, and his hand was quick to jump over your mouth, which only had your eyes rolling back.

“Honey,” he spoke directly into your ear and his cheek pulled between his teeth when he saw how the press of his lips there had your eyelashes fluttering. “If you can’t be quiet…” He started to pull his body away, and your hands caught his wrist, keeping him locked around you.

Steve swallowed, watching from over your shoulder how your chest heaved, glistening with sweat. Your shirt and little sleep shorts guilty of this whole scenario he finds himself in, discarded and crumpled in the corner of the tent. He could have removed those from you an hour ago, his brain’s a little fuzzy - senses in overdrive wanting to get every sigh and whimper and twitch of your body he could get out.

“Please,” you begged in a hoarse whisper, turning your head as his hand fell from your lips, but not straying to far, fingers curled around your chin, thumb soothing over your jaw. Your nose drags over his before lips pressed a wet and desperate kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I’ll be good, please.”

You watched him under heavy lids, taking in the pink flush of his cheeks, blown out pupils quickly replacing the honey in his eyes, so you took his hand and pressed two fingers to your lips, and waited.

Steve’s throat bobbed as your tongue licked the pad of one, running up the seam of the digits pressed together until you were taking both tips into your mouth and sucking.

He wasn’t the only one who had a weapon to wield, who had an addiction to getting those same primal reactions out of him.

Your cheeks hollowed, his eyelids grew heavy, fluttering as his cock twitched against you and a rumble of something in his chest pressed into your spine.

“Fuck,” he gasped, forehead knocking your temple as he rolled his hips against you.

He quickly pulled his fingers from where they were flattened over your tongue, wet fingers pushed down your black underwear and then his own. Steve’s length slipped between your legs, before his arm was wrapping around your waist and pulling you tight to him as his tip glided through your slick.

“So wet, baby,” he whined into your ear, fingers digging into your abdomen as you shivered when he pressed at your entrance. “Jus’ for me? Jus-just waiting for this all night?”

You nodded, warmth flooding your body at his words, the truth of them, and the way he pushed slowly inside of you.

Fingers gripped his forearm that only tightened around you, before his hand roamed down, over your thigh and back up to your hip, pulling you open so he could slip in deeper.

Steve made a sort of strangled noise against the back of your neck, pressed fully against your ass as your head fell back in a gasp, resting on his shoulder. He sat still, twitching inside of you until you were throbbing around him, fingers digging into the cool material beneath you and nodding, silently telling him to move.

It was all slow drags out and a forceful thrusts back in, each one picking up speed, making you both try to hold in your ragged and loud breaths. Steve pressed his nails into your thigh, nose and lips a ghost along your shoulder. Your walls sucking him in, yet coating him in slick in a way you hadn’t before had him quietly cursing, swearing and praising you in the same breath.

He scratched up your thigh when your hips rolled back against him, lips finding his neck and pressing kisses to any skin you could reach. His fingertips slipped over your clit, quietly swearing again at how wet you were and how you moaned when he made a second figure eight over the bundle of nerves.

“Steve,” you spoke into his jaw, fingers curled in the hair at the back of his neck, the other tugging at anything in front of you to hold on to as he pounded into you harder, but at the same consistent rhythm. As his tip hit that spot deep inside of you over and over again, the place only Steve Harrington had a knack for finding or being able to reach, white heat poured over you, heartbeat rushing in your ears as he took you higher.

He could feel you squeezing around him, feel the way your body shook against his, his own orgasm held off until you opened your mouth just below his ear.

You didn’t kiss him. You didn’t lick or suck or bite. You were just breathing.

A harder tug of his hair in your fingers, an arch of your back, eyelids fluttering, and a sort of hitched breath that warmed across his skin all made him fall over the edge he’d taken you both to. As goosebumps erupted down his arms, he spilled inside of you, both of you gripping the others body like it was your only way out alive.

He hated that he whined.

You smiled against his neck, you couldn’t help it.

#superbly subpar steve smut #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfiction

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stararch4ngelqueen · 1 year

Note

For the Jason drabbles, what about Jason conforting/taking care of reader while they are sick or even on their period?

We love a supportive man. What he receives he gives back tenfold.

“Show me where, baby.”

His hand roamed along your lower abdomen, imagining the soreness in your tense muscles. The spikes of pain that riddled you bedridden during your most heavy days.

“Here?” He applies pressure, fingers rubbing circles down just under your stomach, along the spot near your hip bone.

“Oww, yes,” you whine, wincing from the pain before being soothed by his massage.

Jason knew what periods were. He knew it’s a natural thing women dealt with. He’s worked with women for years, alongside doing his own research on it during one time you hadn’t left your bed for a while, thinking you were sick at first. It was an.. interesting conversation with Babs over what more he could do to help that the internet didn’t tell him about those relentlessly heavy cycles.

Pain like this took a lot longer to be rid of than a heating pad would allow. Especially the good quality ones with different settings.

Or, if you want something different, something fun that he wouldn’t mind shoving into the microwave for a minute, he’d get you a heatable, plush teddy bear. Or a duck. Or a menstruation crustacean.

He had no idea what the hell that was until you showed him on the site. You received whatever you chose in a box nearly three days later from Prime shipping.

Don’t freak out about blood. Accidents happen. If you got some on the sheets, along his lap when he held you, or on the couch, he could’ve cared less.

He wouldn’t even point it out, if you didn’t know. If you did notice it, he’d immediately shush you in an consolation attack, hiding your shameful expression in the crook of his shoulder.

“Shh, baby,” he’d murmur in your ear. “Easy. Nothin’ I haven’t seen before. S’alright, it’s okay.”

With advice from Babs, he cooks a lot more iron rich meals for you a lot more during this time. Usually, it’s been a team effort. You cook, he cleans up, you wash dishes together. Vice versa.

This week, regardless if you suffer from irregular periods, he does it all. He’ll do it even if he was a walking zombie, he doesn’t care.

Jason will not, no matter what you say, let you lift a finger if he knows you’re in pain. He’s an expert of masking his own, he can tell when you do it.

This even goes if you’re not used to being babied, get used to it. You tend to him for weeks at a time in a single month alone, this is his way of saying thank you for it all.

“Bed.” Jason demands, not even having to turn around from his attention on the stove to hear your shuffling to the kitchen.

“But I’m—“

“I brought you a drink,” he replies. A cup of warm raspberry leaf tea sitting on your bedside.

“No, I mean—“

“I know it hurts, but you can’t take anything until after you eat,” Jason peers over his shoulder, seeing his olive green shirt loosely draped over your body. “Go back to bed, Princess.”

“Can I stay here?” You plea, making his shoulders slump with a sigh. Try as he may, your weakened state makes him more pliable to your every request.

Might as well, since you’re already up. Stubborn girl.

“Go sit on the couch,” he sighs, knowing a few comforters were folded up on the cushions. “Get comfortable, an’ stay there. Dinner’s almost done.”

Jason has pills, plenty of them. From plain Tylenol, ibuprofen, to doctor prescribed muscle relaxers, morphine, etc. All thanks to Alfred.

Broken bones or severe, suture required injuries would be the only times Jason felt complied to take them. He knew addiction, watching it first hand and being involved in it at one point himself. He only took them when he absolutely, positively needed it.

For you, if you needed something stronger, he’d give you half of one pill, or a full, single pill at most. No way would you ever fall victim to such a cruel, toxic routine. He’d keep them locked up, for both your safety and his.

After your said hearty, iron rich meal, you remained on the couch snuggled up together like true lovers.

His guilty pleasure during your period of vulnerability was how much you relied on him for comfort. Positions varied, but his most favorite would be your body laying in his lap as he lounged on his reading recliner.

A gray comforter over your shoulders, some fuzzy socks on your feet. The furnace you called your boyfriend leaving you nice and toasty, his hands settling along your hair and back, preparing to soothe and massage when needed.

He adored when you needed him, he loved catering to you. You were his woman, his little nurse turned patient.

This also sort of gave him an excuse to skip out on patrols, but he never voiced the reasons why he’s gotten calls about it. He just didn’t feel like it, refusing the idea of abandoning you late at night, leaving him tense and unfocused on his routine on if you needed something, and he wasn’t there.

The others, with their detective mindsets could figure it out for themselves as to why Jason didn’t show up on a Saturday night. Or a Sunday, and definitely not a Monday.

He had important priorities, after all.

Just him, you; snuggly comfortable and content, and your herbal scented, menstruation crustacean.

#jason todd x y/n #Jason Todd #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #dc jason todd #gotham knights jason todd #jason todd x female!reader #jason todd x reader #jason todd dc

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risuola · 1 year

Text

MUG CAKE CRISIS — F. READER x GOJO SATORU

Every household has to face a crisis once in a while. Yours came at 2:48am and you had to sweeten your husband's way into peace again.

cw: good old fluff — 0,9k words

Every household has to face some kind of crisis once in a while. Some deal with children – the tantrums or cries that keep the parents awake and as they are forced out of their dreams and expected to face whatever it is that makes their little ones so sad, all of the monsters underneath the beds, the nightmares and fears, they simply take it head on. That’s what makes parents the heroes of their children life’s. Other people deal with partners or the opposite, the loneliness. Sometimes the walls hear things no one else shouldn’t. Arguments, screams and sounds of heated intimacy. There are different types of crises and your house is no foreign to that concept.

You woke up to the soft thuds coming from somewhere in the apartment. The whiney sounds following the, what you figured out to be, furniture noises gave you enough reason to get up from the bed. There was a crisis in your house happening right now, at 2:48am and you couldn’t just let it be, so you wrapped yourself in a blanket, too sleepy to put on clothes on your bare body, slipped into your slippers and padded to the kitchen.

The view that met your eyes was endearing in a way. Gojo Satoru, your husband and a man you love to the extent of infinity, was in the kitchen, wearing only boxers that he probably put on in a rush, because they were turned to the left side, with seams and tag on show. He was frantically ramming through every cabinet, every drawer, every little basket and bowl that could possibly hide something. There was a mess around him, boxes laying around gutted and empty, some doors half-open and most of the things on the countertop moved from their original place creating the overwhelming sense of disorder. But that was a problem for tomorrow, now you had to take care of the man-child strongest sorcerer.

“Satoru, baby,” you called him, but he was too focused on his hunt to even look at you.

“Go back to sleep, love,” he mumbled and you yawned onto the plushy fabric of your blanket. You approached him, wrapping your arms around his middle and nuzzling your face to his bare back.

“No sweets?”, you cooed, knowing perfectly how the one and only addiction of your husband can wake him at night. Satoru doesn’t drink, he doesn’t smoke and he only occasionally takes a sip from your coffee, but one thing he’s unable to give up, is sugar. He consumes so much of it, you’re in awe that he still has all of his teeth and in great health as well, and all of his blood tests normal, because you were sure that if you were the one who ate so much caramel, chocolate and whipped cream, you’d probably be dead before your teeth start to rot.

“Can you believe it?” he whined, audibly trying to force his voice to sound soft and calm, but you knew him better than that. He was tensed, soo annoyed, his heart was beating fast as if he was slowly falling into the state of panic, and you exhaled against his skin, hand smoothing over his stomach as you pressed your lips to his spine.

“Told you we need to go get groceries yesterday.”

“You’re not helping, y/n.”

“Oh, my poor husband. Sit down, I’ll make you something, how does it sound?”

He hummed in defeat, desperate to have anything sweet and so he sat down on the chair, as you quickly combined flour, cocoa, sugar and the one almost dying banana that had been laying there for a little too long. Some milk, vanilla extract and baking powder got mixed into the batter as well, and when the concoction was ready, you put it in the microwave.

Mug cakes became your saving grace for hard times like this one, when your husband would wake up in the middle of the night craving something sweet. Some might say, he’s a grown adult, he can manage without eating chocolate in the middle of the night. Well, no. Satoru is a baby trapped inside the 6’3 tall, muscular body, and he’d definitely throw a tantrum if his needs won’t be fulfilled. There was a time he almost teared up when the realization of his stashes being empty hit him.

Over the hot, steaming cake you scooped the last bits of vanilla ice cream that hid in the back of the freezer, away from his sweet tooth because you kept it for the time your period comes and you even managed to squeeze out a little bit of toffee sauce from the lonely bottle in the fridge. Yawning once again, you presented the masterpiece to your beloved man-child, with a spoon and he gathered you to sit on his lap, making sure you are tucked tightly into the blanket.

“I love you, you know that,” he mumbled against your forehead, before pressing his lips there.

“Love you too,” you smiled and lowered your head to rest it on his shoulder, while he began devouring the dessert you made him. You felt his body relaxing as the sugar saturated his bloodstream and you relaxed too, melting against his warm form and knowing that he’s once again happy.

“’m sorry I woke you up at that hour,” he whispered, when after catering his cravings, he carried you back to the bed.

You smiled, cuddling to his chest just few moments later. Oh, how much you love that man. So much, you were okay with getting up at nearly 3 am only to make him a mug cake.

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screampied · 4 months

Text

❝ IF I WAS A RICH GIRL . . ! ❞

ᡴꪫ sum. not only do you get your panties back but you get a handsome, suave sugar daddy as a gift. gojo takes you out on a date but the lavish, exquisite food isn’t what he’s exactly hungry for. hint: it’s between your legs. oh, and you.

wc. 6.6k

warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy!gojo au, age gap (early twenties/early thirties), semi public themes, toy usage, gojo is a nasty menace, cunnilıngus, implied multiple ōrgasms, praise kink, mentions of brēeding, impact play, size kink, degradation, edging, manhandling.

➤ sd!gojo masterlist

“s- ssssatoru,” you hiss. clenching onto your fork, you squeeze your thighs together underneath a velvet red table. it was as if every area of your nerves could barely hold themselves together as they’re continuously being interrupted. interrupted by the sheer vibrations juddering your legs apart. he’s sitting beside you, humming to himself as his eyes skim through the pricey menu. acting as if he doesn’t hear your sweet faint whines, he heard them alright. loud and clear. it’s been a while—ever since that day, you’d have been a fool to not call him from the business card he gave you. accepting his precious offer to be a sugar baby. his sugar baby. and now, you were on a date with him. not just any date though, a date where he brings along a cute new bluetooth vibrator he bought for you. it’s happy new home was located right between your pretty thighs. the setting was powered on level four and you were so so close.

this was bad . . this was really really bad, the immense pressure steadily continues to arise. the bzzzing of the toy rings through your ears to where it gets stuck in your head. everything felt slow, real real slow. the entire five-star restaurant alone was quite loud. blaring with a multitude of conversations from talkative fellow guests. the vibrator makes you whine out a tiny, shrilling squeak, and you squeeze onto his pants leg. “you’re smiling. i know you can hear m- me.”

“huhhh, oh no sweet thing. ‘s just my natural face,” and he’s got a coy grin. he was definitely smiling. “let’s try one more level,” and your legs were just about to give out the moment the buzzing intensifies. so embarrassing, you keep trying to look around, in utter hopes that no one was looking your way. it felt so good, orgasmic even. you’re on your last final hinges of pleasure before he tugs against your ripped fishnets. “hold it, girl,” he directs, planting a kiss against your neck. “don’t finish, at least wait until our food comes. let’s try usin' those manners tonight, yeahh?”

“satoru jus’ let me cum,” you whine, grabbing his wrist. you feel against his g-shock. the cold, metal material making your cute fingertips shiver a bit.

out of amusement— he hums, watching as you try to drag his hand down between your heated thighs.

seeing how desperate you were for more of his beloved touch was adorable. your expanding heat only grows and that’s when you then slouch back against the fat padded restaurant booth. the fabric of your panties felt sticky—almost adhesive like with how it sticks against your mess between your lacey undergarments. just voluntarily glued against your plushed thighs. the toy’s been wavering against your pretty clit for about a good ten minutes. the waiter took you and gojo’s order quite a while ago since then—and those long ten minutes since then felt like long ten hours. “fuck, ‘toru. can’t hold it, pleasepleaseplease.”

“hmmmm,” gojo kneads a thumb against your wrist. his touch alone made you throb more. his touch, you just wanted more of it each time. it was addictive, like a drug, like candy even.

you’re so close to your release that it’s right there. at the very tip of your tongue, you could almost taste it. saliva pours into your mouth as the the inevitable pressure gradually emerges.

as people in the restaurant continue to walk by, you have to try to not be so obvious. you were failing miserably though—anyone could peer a look at you and spot the lewd expressions stretched across your face.

by now, you weren’t really trying to hide it. you were about to make a mess at a public restaurant, and maybe the simple thought of that alone made you pulse with no shame. “aw, y’r squeezin’ my wrist so tight, baby. really wanna make a mess, do ya?” and he leans right up against your neck, giving you a soft kiss. hot breath collides against your collarbone as he gives you a kiss, one simple kiss and you’re just so feral. not a single thought embedded into your mind except you were about to make the biggest nest imaginable. right underneath this table— all thanks to the stupid toy, and stupid satoru gojo, your beloved new sugar daddy. you’re nodding, tiny babbles of whimpers spewing out from your lips before he strums his fingertips against the rotating vibrator. gojo feels against the outer part of it sticking out of you, and he just wants to pull it out, making you cum himself with his tongue. he’s dirty but at least he has some kind of decorum. kind of. “so fuckin’ hot. gettin’ off at a five star restaurant like this, was supposed to be a special night but you just had to be a messy girl today, huh.”

“y- yes, ‘toru, please,” and your breathing hitches the second his frigid cold lips make contact against your skin yet again. if it was anything that could make you so weak, it was gojo’s obscene, sloppy kisses. you craved them like you craved air. “hafta cum, let me finish please. wan’ it so bad.”

with a little teasing sigh he murmurs, “okay fine,” and once he gives you the go ahead, you finally let go. the deafening music reverberating throughout the diner harmonizes over your orgasm— it was a tiny squeal but still. it silenced your own release, but you were still quite loud. you’re slump backward, feeling him turn off the toy from his phone with a simple button and he chuckles. “baby you’re so fuckin’ dramatic,” and he drags a thumb against your now soaked entrance. you’re panting, tummy heaving and heaving as your quaking legs were all sprawled open underneath the table. pried open just for him. “such a wet girl. kinda just wanna get a little taste. my own appetizer before the mea—”

“chilled alaskan king crab legs, two complementary cups of ice and herb roasted chicken—?” a waiter cuts off gojo as he’s flirting with you. with a whip of a head turn, he glances up, a bit annoyed at being interrupted. the waiter with the ordered food in hand stares at the two of you, a short petite male with a eye twitching expression. he gulped, seeing the gojo satoru and decided not to question just why his hand was literally between your thighs. “um, sorry for the delay. here you go.”

“thank you,” gojo cheeses a fake smile—yet as he watches intently as the waiter hands you both the steaming hot plates of lavish cuisine. he pops the same finger that was toying with you right into his mouth. you gaze at gojo, so filthy..

again, no shame at all—a shameless man at best. briefly, he sucks against his finger, savoring the after honeyed taste before smirking. it was as if he preferred your taste rather than the food sitting right in front of him. curling his tongue against his finger, he gives the server a coy nod. “keep the change, man.”

the waiter was stunned to see gojo reaching in his suit, grabbing out a whopping tip amount of four hundred dollars in cash—he stammers, accepting it with a grateful sheepish smile. “ah, t- thank you. please do come again.”

as the server leaves, you’re left with your own body still panting from your most recent teeth shattering release. the food was sizzling, piping hot. with hooded, partly open eyes, you dig your nails into his slacks. “you’re s- so nasty, ‘toru,” and picturing the image of him licking his finger like that . . just a few seconds ago as if it was nothing, you’d lie a bit if you said it didn’t turn you on. at least a little bit anyway. he snickers, planting a kiss against your jawline as you struggle to catch your incoming irregular breaths. “my panties are all soaked now.”

“and. let’s be real—when are you not wet, princess,” he teases, grabbing a napkin to wipe the remnants of drool seeping from the outer corners of your mouth.

gojo’s eyes were so pretty, the more you stare into his elegant, ethereal pupils— the more you wanted him. wanted more of him. swallowing, he grabs the front of your hand before kissing it. the moment his lips press against your hand, you feel your tummy swarm up with butterflies. “and don’t pout. ‘m gonna take them right off ya anyways, c’mon. let’s finish eating. got a surprise for ya back at home.”

at gojo’s mansion, secluded from other buildings to disturb his peace—his surprise for you was nothing more than his tongue.

“i need you so bad, you don’t fuckin’ understand,” he groans, and he’s making sure to take his time with you. his sweet precious time,

you’re in the master bedroom— his bedroom where it was known for having your sweet moans reverberating and bouncing off the walls. as you’re laid on your back, you let off a soft whine once he’s trailing his tongue everywhere down your body. he starts slow, making his way back up to kiss you. strands of delicate snowy strands tickle against your forehead as his lips harshly crash onto yours. you moan, sliding your tongue against his and tasting the leftover taste of what tasted like sweet, sweet tequila. he was still in his suit and tie and you wanted nothing more than to have it off. your hands roam to yank on his tie and he gradually grinds his body against you. “yeah, that’s right. ouch my body, girl. all yours.”

he’s speaking between lewd wet kisses. his voice was deep—his rhythm against your body was so passionate that it was almost carnal. you taste a bit of mint on his tongue also, separate tongues continue to dance and fight against each other all the while he’s left you speechless.

breathless even,

every few seconds he’d have to come up for air, nibbling against your bottom lip coltishly. “don’t be shy,” he whispers, watching as you hesitate to feel against his body. he finds that characteristic about you cute, how you were still shy yet slowly warming up to him. “touch me,” he repeats, his voice a bit more raspy— a bit more needy. so you do, raising your hand and you slip it underneath his dress shirt. as the cottony piece of clothing glides against your skin, he’s still compressing his lips against yours before your fingers start to roam further . . .

as they wander down the older man’s body, you feel his exact build. he was absolutely ripped, even in his early thirties—he could have easily been mistaken as a frat boy. it was no surprise, gojo practically spent his life in the gym. his personal gym anyway. you couldn’t help but take a peak at his buff biceps—only imagining what’d it be like for him to put you in a teasing chokehold.

those arms, that jacked build . .

the more you ponder about him manhandling you, the more you’re so close to making yourself more drenched. as everything progresses, you moan again. his sensual grinding against you gets more quicker and quicker over time. his hardened bulging boner rubs off on you and an arm of yours slings around his broad neck. “mhm,” he groans, feeling the soft centers of your fingertips stroke its way down toward his forbidden happy trail.

it trails and trails,

so pretty, just a beloved white trail of curled hair running down just above the horizontal border of the rest of his pubic hair. it starts near his navel and slides its way further down. a vertical strip of hair that you could never get your hands off of. as you’re still kissing him deeply, teeth gnashing amongst each other before gojo ultimately ulls away.

“fuck, ‘m gonna cum jus’ from kissing you,” he lets off a throaty laugh, trying to hide his flustered state. you had him so weak. so weak but he’d never admit that. gojo brings his swollen, dripping lips towards your neck, then your collarbone, all until he goes just a bit lower. “look at this body,” he coos, pausing to take in your beauty right underneath him. “yeah, ‘m gonna take such good care of you, sweets. jus’ lie back ‘n let me love you.”

his words were as smooth as silk— the deep, resonating pitch in it bellows all around the thin walls of his bedroom. the seductively sly baritone of his voice alone makes you pulse. if it was anything gojo had, he had a way with his fucking words. gojo purses his lips, coating your tummy with a plethora of kisses. you struggle to stay still, your expensive dress he bought you a few days ago for this exact occasion now all wrinkled and creases.

but truthfully,

he didn’t care—besides, he’d always buy you another one. his favorite motto.

as you’re lounged back, he makes you spread your legs. “mwah,” he purrs against your skin, lolling out his tongue just a bit to create a slime wet trail. it goes all the way down until he reaches near your cute navel . . then up to your half ripped panties. they weren’t ripped before the date, but they certainly were now. “you’re so sensitive today. barely did anythin' ‘n you’re squirmin’ from my touch.”

“s- satoru, please,” you whine out a pathetic breath. a hand then grips onto his tangled strands like velcro. tightly, you didn’t let go— at least not yet anyway. his hair was were messy, and that simple detail alone made him ten times more attractive. gojo’s hair as usual was a bit slicked back but still unkempt, especially now due to your gluing grip. fingers of yours massage its way through his scalp and he almost moans. with a pouty expression, you continue to speak. “you’ve been edging me all day. ‘s no fair.”

“thaaaat’s kind of rude,” he chaffs with his white brows contorting into a furrow. “was the toy not enough?” and with a shushed tone, he whistles against your clit— giving it a soft kiss, a thumb peeling down the center. “oh, right.. probably wasn’t, forgot how greedy this pussy is. ‘s my bad.”

your back arches, and you moan once he prods two long fingers inside of you—your warmth envelops around his digits easily before he pulls it out to give it a good three second whiff. “sweet,” gojo slyly says, licking against his fingers. “would have rather ate this instead,” and you moan, watching how his mouth was practically watering from your alluring taste. such a nasty man, the nastiest. gojo leans up to you, tapping against your chin. “ah ah, open that mouth baby, before i eat. don’t wanna hog, wanna make sure ya get a taste too.”

whimpering, you part your lips— sticking out your tongue before his lengthy slender fingers tug its way into your mouth.

immediately, you suck around them, lashes of yours fluttering from your blissful arousal. “m-mhm,” you slip out an inaudible gasp, feeling his free hand grab against your twitching cunt. gojo’s staring at you with the most smug expression before he pulls his digits out, sneaking a wet kiss right on your mouth. as you taste yourself, a messy cobweb string of spit departs from each mouth before he lies you back down. “fuck, hurry ‘toru.”

“now . . baby, don’t rush me,” he teases, and with your back laid against the squishy cushioned mattress, he finally digs in. your knees poke and extend outward and a sweet whine rips out rawly out of your throat. it’s almost guttural, he’s yanking out noises from you that you didn’t even know you could even produce.

once gojo starts— it’s never ending.

he could eat you out for hours, despite how his jaw would tense and tighten. you’re moaning at the way he starts off with sloppy kisses before just straight up digging in. nose deep within seconds. it swipes against your folds in various circular motions. the rotation of his tongue was brutal— you’re whimpering, maintaining a rough grip against his hair and he chuckles. sucking deeply against your puffy slit. you throb in his mouth, and you’re already squelching. gojo groans, reaching a hand inside of his executive pants to stroke himself off.

your pleasure was his pleasure after all. he wanted to always make that clear.

gojo wasn’t lying about pointing out how hard you made him. a thumb of his runs down the vein that remains on his dick. with his eyes closed, he allows his tongue to wander through every part of your pussy. he knew just where to go. he knew the exact spots to make you scream and whine out for more.

with ease, he locates every orifice— he doesn’t miss anywhere, more so because he can’t afford to.

gojo loves more than anything to make out with your cunt. his most favorite thing to do was to french kiss against it.

after each obscene mwah after mwah, he even allows his own saliva to help him out— despite how you were already a practical dripping faucet. careless, saturated kisses of his had you throbbing time and time again in his mouth. his head vigorously shakes back and forth, side to side as you’re practically shoving him forward. “eh—easy on the hair, pretty,” he jibes, concisely parting his lips away. gojo stares at his thumb that’s trying to insert its way in. he grows quiet, watching the scene in front of him. within long extended seconds, your pussy’s swallowing the single digit whole and you swear under your breath at how lengthy his fingers were . . even a simple thumb. gojo’s thumb stretched you out so good that you couldn’t even comprehend the feeling in words. not like you could comprehend anything anyway, you were already stupid. all from his tongue, his touch, everything. “god, such a wet girl. the nerve to be walkin’ around this soaked, ‘n she’s quite the talker today too..”

as he’s rambling with a thumb entering in and out of your cunt, he takes a moment to spit on it. it’s shimmery, he blows against it before letting off a flirty whistle. “yeah she fuckin’ is,” he praises your folds. “oooh, bet she’s gonna give me a nice squirt or two later,” and you moan once he brings his chatty lips back towards it. your pool of heat continues to grow before he lays his tongue flat. he was always a man to make a bit of a mess. your heartbeat starts to get so rapid that you heard it’s pulse right through your ears. the firm grip you have on his hair was tight. tangled crumped up fingers combing right through his hair— it makes him a bit hard. the feeling of you dragging him back and forth against his face. you could barely keep your legs open but you didn’t want him to stop. he’s practically slobbering over your pussy before he breaks away, giving you a smug grin. “like when i make out with her more than you?”

“f-fuck, ‘toru,” was all you could mutter out in shaky lips. as he’s relishing his meal between your thighs, gojo spanks your cunt twice. you’re so soaked that a few sloshing droplets hit against his skin. “ngh, you’re teasin’ me. ‘m gonna cum if you k-keep doin’ that.”

sucking passionately against your clit, his tongue flicks against the sensitive nub. that spots has you short circuiting. “nuh uh, good girls cum when they deserve it,” and the tempo of his suckling gets quicker by the mile. you’re about to break, unceremoniously grinding your hips against his mouth so much to where he chortles. as he laughs, hot breath of his fans against your pussy and it only makes you throb ten times more.

straight convulsions,

you’re feeling so many sensations languidly twitch against your body all at once that you could barely keep up. everything’s fuzzy so you felt like you were on cloud eight. cloud nine or whatever people call it— honestly, your mind was far too fried to even figure it out. gojo grunts, snapping you back to reality with a soft swat against your folds. “be honest with me, sweets,” gojo slicks his tongue out of your clingy walls, peppering a playful kiss against your soddened, moist folds. “do ya deserve to cum? do ya deserve to be my messy baby? tell me the truth.”

with a cute, exasperated sigh, you sob out a needy cry. “y- yesss, i’ve been good, ‘toru. been good all day,” and his sucking against your clit grows within speed. the very cartilage of his nose against his nose prods against your entrance and you feel like you’re floating. the tip of his nose was all soaked, all because of your cunt continuously scooting up against it. as he’s propped right up between your legs, a hand of his squeezes down on your right thigh before giving it a little bite. your legs, one of his favorite things to gently press his teeth into. as well as your neck, but your legs—they were just a force to be reckoned with. you were a force to be reckoned with. “satoruuuu.”

“sweetheaaaaart,” he mocks your cute dragging of your words, slurping every lewd amount of your primal arousal. you’re so cute, barely bring able to stay still so much to where he’s got to hold you in place. “but you were bein’ a bit of a brat earlier,” he hoarsely utters, rubbing his hard on against the edge of the bed. “teasin’ me, even tried ‘ta stroke me off while we were in the diner,” and with coy eyes, he gives you a cunning smirk. as you pout, he simpers. “aww yeahhh, remember that dontcha?”

continuing to rut your sloppy cunt against his face, he playfully nibbles against your clit — you whine, biting down on your lip before spreading a plump thumb against your folds like jelly.

“dunno if she should be messy just yet,” and he’s such a tease. as he speaks, his eyes avert towards your pussy, clearly wanting you to understand he was talking to her and not you. at least not right now. you could hear the playfulness underneath his tone. your heart’s racing— it’s so intense, your legs were quavering within his hold. struggling to maintain decent breaths, you end up finishing anyway. it hits you so abruptly that it’s rude, all kinds of nerves surge through you and your mouth pries itself open. the only thing escaping out of your sweet dry throat was a desperate, wailing whimper. gojo pauses, bringing a final kiss against your pussy before smearing a thumb against his lips. “the fuck.”

“s- sorry,” you pant, but truth be told—you weren’t. in fact, if he squinted just enough, he could see the little smile trying to stretch itself against your guilty, sheeny lips. you’d only last a few minutes with his tongue, featuring his long fingers, but still.

first and foremost, your powerful orgasm had you feral, a cooling air suddenly sets down against your skin as your legs tremble before your pussy gets slapped with a mean smack. one turns into two, then three, then four . .

“f- fuuuck, ‘toru,” you gasp, hearing the wet swats against your cunt. you’re still sensitive, your swollen folds all dampened with nothing but your slick, soaking arousal. so wet, so sloppily wet and only wet just for him.

“we talked ‘bout this, sweets,” gojo grumbles, giving your folds an almost disappointed kiss. “but ‘s like ya never listen, guess y’r pussy needs more training,” and as you’re trying to collect as much gasps of air as you can through your full lungs, he squeezes your cunt with his entire wrist. unzipping his slacks, he leans into you before pulling you into a kiss. the entire spacey room was dim lit, velvety shaded rose petals scattered everywhere onto the crinkled sheets. gojo knew how to set the mood. as he shoves a tongue down your throat, still getting a good grip of your cunt with his palm, he then makes you flop right onto your back. “mch,” he hastily pulls away, a tongue savoring your sweetened lip gloss that smothers itself against your twitching mouth. “can’t look at ya right now. face that way, yeah. face down ‘n ass up. jus’ like i taught ya, pretty.”

with unsteady hands sinking into the bed, you do as he says. a soft whine ferociously snatches out of you once a big hand of his caresses your left ass cheek. his touch, you were always so weak for it. ever since you first met the man, your first encounter which was about approximately almost two weeks ago. you started to get deeply attached, well, at least your body was . .

as you arch forward, you feel a soft scratchy material plop against your back. gojo doesn’t waste time, tugging down his own brand of boxers with his last name stripped in bold letters near the stretchy hem. grunting, he springs his aroused dick out, aligning himself against your achy, drooling entrance. the feeling of material was just gojo throwing a few wads of cash near your back. “bratty but gorgeous,” he scoffs, feeling you wriggle your ass against him. oh, you were gonna be the death of him. the fifty dollar bills trail and slide down your spine— the view of it was so sexy, he wanted to savor this moment. you’re his favorite girl, he already knew it. a hand of his grips near your hip. “needy ‘lil thing. just gotta move that ass against me,” and as he’s speaking, he gifts your ass with another impolite spank. “ugh, pussy’s to die for.”

“s- satoru, fuck me,” your plea came out of your mouth in such a small tone. it was cute, your knees that dug into the mattress remain to grow shaky and wobbly before nearly giving out. the size difference amused him.

the delicious size of his fat cock was pure bliss. you don’t think you could ever get used to it. every time with him always felt like the first. with two clingy big hands glued to your waist, he’s easing his way in slowly. his fat tip ploddingly opens up the outer sloppy walls of your entrance and you’re so slick for him that you’re already coating gojo from the very base down. growing a bit frustrated that it seems like he’s taking forever, you creep a hand down between your thighs to touch yourself but he only spanks your wrist away.

“girl—please, let’s not touch my pussy today,” he warns slyly, catching your hand with quick reflexes.

you moan, feeling his girth expand throughout your walls. he’s just so fucking big, your mouth stretches itself open and a tiny squeak escapes. “so wet, mhm, listen to how sloppy you get for me,” and you end up falling face forward into the bed. with your ass still up in the air, he’s easily emitting such filthy moans from your throat. your pussy doesn’t take long to constrict around his hefty length. gojo always fits nice and snug inside, you wholeheartedly take him inside, drooling from how your cunt grips around him in such a secure way. just one thrust, a single thrust from gojo and you were already limp. “thereee we go, take it, pretty.”

“i-i’m gonna cum,” you whine, speaking in an almost breathy way. fat callused fingertips of his run down your spine, sending you various shivers before he spanks your bass again. the dollar bills that lay against your back start to fall right off of you from the quick paced movements. “s- sirrrr,” and with another smack, he corrects your sweet tone so you can rephrase and address him the right way. “i— i mean satoru, fuck you’re s’big. ‘m gonna cum again.”

“oh, don’t be dramatic sweetheart,” he purrs in a rich tone, feeling you already start to gape around him. your pussy flutters from his thick entrance, and once he starts up a pace you’re frantic for more. a hand of his wraps around the back of your throat like a necklace before the ruthless drilling eventually starts. the sticking cacophonous pap pap paps against each jerking limb paps was so loud. skin against skin, body against body, you felt your jaw tighten. he’s so precise and rigorous with his sharp hips that it gives you whiplash. you’re never prepared—even if you try to be. gojo knows how to hit every part of your cunt in such a way to make you squeal out in pleasure, in ecstasy. he’s got an upward curve that wanders all inside of your caved love areas. just a few thrusts and you were already salivating. “mhm,” he huffs, hearing the stickiness your cunt sings against his base. already, it’s a wet trail coating around his dick with each time he pulls out before back in. “don’t get lazy on me, pretty. i need to see a better arch. even i can do better than that.”

with a pout at his maddening cockiness, he spanks you again. you arch your back forward a bit more and he coos, “good fuckin’ girl,” and he grabs a nice chunk of your ass. burying your head into the crook of your elbow, it takes him barely any time at all to locate your forbidden g-spot.

once he hits it exactly, the sound that escapes from your lips was adorable—it was a little shriek, it sounded so beatific and harmonious it was as if he was listening to a song. a song he never wanted to end, your sweet voice. “goddamn,” he groans, feeling your ass thwack its way back against him in salacious rapture. oh, but despite that all, he knows you’re nothing but a tease. especially with your movements against him, happily moving your hips in sync with his. you’re fucking back against him and it makes him kiss his teeth. “maybe this ‘s what ya needed all along, wanted ‘ta spoil you today but all you wanted was dick, ‘s that right, sweet thing?”

“n- no,” you lie through your teeth, your own voice muffled with how you’re speaking inside of your elbow. your voice was shaky, trembling on every dragging syllable before the bed starts to get rickety. it creates sound with you both— making its own types of lewd harmonies. gojo’s weight pressing against you makes you throb, you were feeling all kinds of pleasure at once. whimpering once more at how he’s stuffing you full of thickset inches, you try to reach down to touch yourself.

“don’t play with me,” he catches your wrist again, an almost snicker departing from his lips.

damn, so close.

holding onto your wrist, he notices you squeeze his hand, rubbing a thumb against his fingers. “aw, does the baby wanna hold my hand?” and as you struggle to nod, he gently pins your arm back.“you’re somethin’ e-else.”

his words start to cut off a bit as he’s keeping up a decent tempo—the frame of the king sized bed starts to get jittery. all from the weight and his sloppy hips rigorously pounding into you. the bed’s creaking, it’s almost deafening with how it screeches aloud from the massing pounds of hefty pressure crushing against it. “d-don’t stop, please,” and he’s just fucking you into his pillow. even the satiny rich sheets of his pillows smell like him. his signature musky scent of his gojo satoru cologne.

. . speaking of,

his pillows even have his last name bedazzled on them. literal cursive letters of ‘gojo’ written in blue. if you weren’t so fucked out, you’d roll your eyes. he’s so deep, a hand of his explores the entire curvature of your hips. your curves were one of his favorite parts of your body, he could touch you all day long if he really wanted. the loving warmth that body provided him had him wanting more—yearning for more, more of you. gojo always relishes in how you respond to just a few of his fingers of his dancing against your skin. you were so sensitive and it was a real sight to witness. one of his favorite sights. “fuck, ‘toru. right there, riiight there, fuck.”

as his hips become more sharper, he hits against that same spot that causes a short circuit in your brain. you’re gasping—holding your breath before whining, he’s so thorough. hands of yours slide underneath your barely unclamped bra, fondling against your jerking tits. “good girl, play with y’r nipples for me like that,” and he swats another discourteous spank against your ass. this time it’s harder, it stings for a second and you whimper out from the sudden contact. after he spanks it, he always caresses it, rubbing the soft palm of his hand to make the sudden sting subside. “y’r so fuckin’ hot, pussy’s gonna make me fall for y—”

and he stops his words right at that last bit. your heart flutters— or maybe that was just your pussy, but you were no idiot. you knew what he was gonna say. or maybe you were delusional and misheard what he was saying.

gojo satoru was a filthy man, he steals out orgasm after orgasm out of you like it’s nothing. he was a little older, which meant that he was a bit more experienced.

quite a lot more than you by a long shot, he made you feel ways in where other men never could. couldn’t even come close. maybe that’s why you were so attracted, why you wanted more . .

a well known businessman, but downright nasty in the sheets. he couldn’t help it, nor did he even really care. gojo had you wrapped around his rich finger, just like how you had him wrapped around yours.

with him,

the passionate intimacy lasts for many many hours. timeless, numerous until your legs were sore, until you’re just being a cum dump for him. you’re pumped full until it’s leaking out of your cunt. so stuffed, with your panties still lazily pulled to the size, some remnants of his cum coats against it. he’s lost count of how many rounds it was— maybe four, five, or was it eight.

all you knew was that your legs had been gave out. you were now flat on your back and he’s fucking you in missionary.

beloved, iconic missionary,

the perfect position to stare you right into your eyes. he grows a liking to grab your chin right when you’re about to cum, peeling your bottom lip down, only to then shove a tongue down your throat. speaking between breathy sentences, he groans—rocking his fit body against yours. “kiss me, baby, suck my tongue,” and as he’s swaying back and forth, washboard abs poking through his shirt, your legs lock around his slim waist. a hand of yours slides its way through his dress shirt and tux, feeling against his faint chest hair and washboard abs before you part your lips. you only then start to gradually suck against the tip of his tongue. his heart beats speedily, synchronizing with yours entirely. he’s dizzy, the static that your body produces against him makes his head throw back as he pulls away. glancing up at the ceiling, still presenting your cunt deep solid strokes—he knew you were gonna be a problem.

his prettiest problem,

perhaps he wasn’t starting to think of you as just his sugar baby, maybe even something more . . but he buried that thought into the very back of his mind. all he really cared about was your pleasure.

pulling away for a moment, still buried into your sopping wet cunt, he grips your chin. whispering in a weary tone, smiling at you, he sighs. “. . tell me,” and he gifts your wet lips a chaste kiss. “you wanna finish with me, pretty?”

“p- please,” you moan, your legs tightly locking around his waist, never letting go. everything was a mess— the entire room had a balmy aroma of love and passion. the both of you were sweating, beads of sweat coating each body. more so gojo, this was a mere work out for him. although, he was actually used to using his body on a daily, so physical activity never bothered him in the slightest. your stomach continues to seize from his fat length and he inches his mouth toward your neck again. his lips were so soft, gently sucking against your tender skin throughout each intimate moment.

viscous amounts of cum race down your thighs as if it’s some kind of lewd competition. as it’s slowly trickling down between your legs slowly, a hand of his slithers down your shaky limbs to feel it. to make sure it doesn’t go to waste, to make sure it doesn’t spill.

gojo satoru’s cum was priceless—quite literally probably. plugging it back in before you whine. “wanna cum with you, ‘toru.”

“can never say no to you, baby,” he hums, bringing another kiss to your lips. despite his raspy worn out tone—he’s still so gentle with your body in his hands. gojo’s zealous hips slow down a bit before his lips capture against yours again. a hand swiftly wraps around your throat, briskly oscillating back against your body before another hand grabs the headboard. you glance up, spitting the veins poke out through his sleeves that were peeling down. he’s giving you slow, sensual thrusts. “fuuuck . . me,” and his words were delayed by a few seconds. he’s mercilessly grinding against your heat so good to where it becomes sloppy. he’s so close again—he knows that feeling all too well. you didn’t know what to focus on. gojo’s length, the girth that keeps your walls sweetly captive, or his voice but it was all so appetizing. so . . flavorsome.

he couldn’t help but slow down his hips a bit. with a single hand, he reaches down to pull his leaky dick out right before he came. he shot into you already—dozens of times actually, but he felt like being a tease again.

“ugh,” he groans, feeling his base swollen itself up. as you finish on your own, your body transmitting into a shockwave of a wave of rapturing rhapsody he mimics you before a stringy amount of ropes splat right onto your folds. it’s so much, so viscous and goopy that paints the entrance of your cunt to where it’s as if your pussy was a mere canvas for him. “look at thaaaat,” and as he licks his lips, you’re shaking right underneath him. gojo leans in to kiss you and that’s when the bed suddenly jitters. it’s rumbling but he ignores it— bringing you into the nth kiss for the night. “atta girl.” he whispers between kisses.

as you’re leaning into his touch, your anklet erotically rubs down the muscles of his back in such a sensual way. with tongues tangling together in corresponding harmony, the expensive wood on the headboard suddenly breaks. it’s a ear-splitting noise, an almost creak. noticing the noise, you break away from his lips before sheepishly muttering.

“did the bed just . . break?”

“perhaps,” gojo whispers, but he was totally unfazed. you had him pussy whipped, he didn’t even look tired.

pretty cerulean irises gaze into your all—so pretty that it almost could be mistaken for a solid pigment of green. a jade loving kind of green that you only see in jewels. his intense, needy stare longs into you for a few more seconds before he makes you flip over. you gasp, still feeling his cum ooze out of you from the inside. it was so feverishly warm, sweltering hot with bulks of his sticky seed. all that and you just wanted more, you didn’t care how greedy or needy you came across.

snickering, gojo picks up the money that’s scattered everywhere on the bed only to put them right back on your back where it belongs—

he then sticks a single fifty dollar bill between your lazily stuck-to-the-side panties before letting off a dry laugh.

“let’s not worry about that though. let’s worry ‘bout how ‘m gonna try ‘ta get you pregnant, tonight sweetheart. nowww, let’s practice that arch again one more time, my love. bend over just for me, yeah. atta fuckin’ girl.”

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eringobragh420 · 1 month

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Pairing: Damian Priest x f!Reader Summary: Damian's girlfriend is addicted to sucking him off. Warnings: NSFW, obviously, lol. Spanish translations are at the end of the story. I do not speak Spanish, so if anything is incorrect, please let me know and I'll fix it! Sloppy blowjob, cum, name-calling, 18+. Taglist: If you'd like to be added, please let me know!

She’s giving him that look again. He can see her out of the corner of his eye as he scrolls Twitter on a phone that nearly disappears in his huge hand. She’s on the opposite end of the couch, knees bent to support the iPad in her lap where he can hear she’s watching Friends for the nine millionth time, though she seems to have no interest in Joey proposing to Rachel.

It’s the gray sweatpants, he knows. The question has never been answered as to what it is exactly about the gray sweatpants that drive women wild, but he couldn’t be less concerned with the why. No, no, he’s much more focused on the results of this phenomenon—results, he guesses, that are quite imminent. On the off chance he’s wrong, he lifts one long leg and places his foot on the coffee table after tugging at the sweatpants near the apex of his thighs to create a bulge he’s openly proud of. Grinning, still watching her through his peripheral, he notices her thighs rubbing together, which knocks the iPad to the floor with a thud.

“Shit,” she whispered, reaching for it.

“Leave it,” he orders, a rumble like thunder in the distance, his eyes sliding to her. She turns back to him, biting her bottom lip. Her eyes are on his for just a moment before they slide to his lips, where she trades the biting of her lip for sucking it into her mouth, a gratuitous act that demands his attention every time. “We both know what you really want.”

She feigns innocence for a nanosecond, and then she is overwhelmed by the need for him, specifically the need for his cock in her mouth. Almost as much as he loves her licking and sucking on his dick, watching her transform from the bubbly, businesswoman girlfriend to the depraved cockwhore he sees before him now is a completely different ballgame. Her eyes are two tiny black holes, ravaged with avidity and lechery, and he feels himself harden in an instant. Abandoning his phone, his chin dips as he curls his finger. Maneuvering herself onto her hands and knees, she crawls the short distance to Damian, stopping, awaiting instructions. Enchanted by her yearning for him and her natural, obedient nature, he presses the pad of his thumb to her lips, watching with a tilted head as she kisses the digit. He sucks in a breath when his finger disappears inside her mouth, her hot, wet tongue sweeping across his skin.

“You want this dick, don’t you?” he growls. She nods, black eyes toeing the line between she-devil and puppy dog, sucking tenderly on his thumb. He pulls it out with a resounding pop, the momentary devastation on her face sending the remainder of the blood in his body straight into his groin, tenting the sweatpants that started the whole thing. “Mi dulce gatita quiere su leche,” he whispers, cradling one side of her head as he works to unleash himself with his other hand. She blushes, and he can feel the heat against the palm of his hand, but she nods just the same, moving her body an inch closer to him. He’s impressed she knows what he said, considering she only recently began learning Spanish, but her thirst for knowledge is insatiable, much like her hunger for him. “Show me where you want it.” Without a thought, her jaw drops and her tongue rolls out like in the old cartoons on Saturday mornings, except this isn’t funny and it isn’t cute—it is outright indecent and pornographic, and could he be any more in love than he already is?

Upon pulling his cock out—a cock perfectly proportioned to his six foot five inch frame, thank you very much—she starts toward the floor. Hand still on her face, he lowers it to gently clutch her jaw, stopping her in her tracks. “Face down,” he instructs, “ass up.”

Grinning, she bends over, heat and wet encompassing the head of his dick, neither of them fans of a slow build up. A groan rips from his chest as he reaches for and palms her ass, smirking and shaking his head to discover she is wearing nothing underneath her leggings. His middle finger slips down the crack of her ass, still over the leggings, quickly encountering a growing wet spot. He begins to massage her pussy, feeling the lips easily separate, bringing his middle finger in contact with her clit. She growls around him, entire body wracked with a shiver, forcing him as deep into her throat as possible, and Damian places his free hand on the back of her head, helping her gain almost another inch. His eyes roll back and his head falls against the couch as she coughs, sputters, and drools around the cock she tells him she dreams about almost on a nightly basis.

“Sí, mi vida,” he whispers, pumping his hips into her mouth. “Just like that. Let me hear how much you love my cock.” His eyes open as her back bows so she can spread her thighs further apart, allowing her to buck against his fingers. He can smell her want, and he can hear her need, and this might be the shortest amount of time he’s lasted before that familiar pressure starts to build at the base of his spine.

“Fuck, your mouth,” he wails, slipping his hand under her leggings, long fingers immediately delving within her soaking folds.

She throws her head back, her mouth releasing him with a much more filthy version of the pop from earlier. “Fuck,” she whines, holding the obscenity out for as long as there was breath in her lungs. Her hand, seemingly so small around his cock, continues jerking, her wrist flicking every few pumps. He snatches her chin and smashes his lips against hers, their tongues brawling like they’re in the main event of Wrestlemania, and he doesn’t know what it is about tasting himself on her tongue, but he fucking loves it.

“You’re such a whore for this cock,” he rasps, his lips rubbing along her swollen ones.

“Mhmmm,” she beams, nodding, their noses massaging one another, hand still stroking, her entire upper body vibrating with the movement. Her breaths come in short bursts.

Damian nods in unison with her, still gripping her chin. “And where does my whore want me to cum?”

“In my mouth.” The answer is prompt, and the desperation in her murmur is almost enough to make him shoot his load right inside these stupid sweatpants. “Please cum in my mouth,” she begs.

Hand returning to the back of her head, this time gripping the messy bun threatening to come apart, he impales her throat with his cock, sliding in deeper than ever before. Though the last inch or two of his length is still visible, it’s covered in her spit and slobber and hard work, and maybe he won’t train her to take the whole thing. Maybe he’ll simply encourage her to choke more, gag more, and in return, she’ll salivate more. Damn, he’s a genius.

But he’ll have to pat himself on the back later because she’s in the middle of a coughing spell—too much of him all at once—the pulses from her throat trying to dislodge this huge foreign object were like tiny little vibrators all around his cock. She starts to lift her head, cheeks a dark crimson, a few tears falling, and he can’t allow it. He’s too close, and she feels too fucking good. He forces her back down, eyes closing to focus only on the nasty, wet sounds, and the slaps and shoves on his thighs as she tries to get free, as she tries to find oxygen.

“Tómalo,” he commands, holding her in place for a few more seconds, for a few more pumps into her mouth. She gasps for air upon release, squeezing his thighs and pulling him closer to her this time. “Jerk me off,” he breathes. Still sputtering from near asphyxiation, she somehow hears his order, and her hand begins work while the other remains gripping his muscles. “That’s it … Make me cum in that whore mouth.”

She drops her tongue, still fighting for oxygen, a river of saliva sliding from her tongue to the head of his dick. He lets out a roar as one of the more intense orgasms he’s ever had explodes through his body, and he shoots rope after rope of cum onto the eagerly awaiting tongue. She lifts the muscle so as to catch as much as possible in her mouth, but he watches with a smile on his face as one tiny tributary dribbles down her chin.

“Show Papi,” he whispers. She drops her jaw proudly, moving her tongue this way and that to swish the salty cream around. His eyes zero in on this salacious act, and he scoops up the white stream from her chin, placing it in her mouth. Her lips clamp around the digit to suck it clean, and he pulls it out with yet another wicked pop. He takes her throat softly in his hand, his nose touching hers as he says, “Swallow.” His thumb rises and falls as his cum is deposited in her stomach, he hears the gulp, and his dick twitches.

“Gracias, Papi,” she sighs, eyes getting heavy. He imagines she’ll want some attention later on with regard to the absolute mess between her legs and, consequently, the leggings.

Damian grins, using the bottom of his t-shirt to clean up the mess on her face. “De nada, corazón.” They share one more kiss before she lays her head on his thigh, snoring softly within seconds. He caresses her cheekbone for a moment and brushes a few strands of sticky hair from her forehead. He tucks himself back inside his now damp sweatpants, picks up his phone, and resumes scrolling Twitter.

** Mi dulce gatita quiere su leche - My sweet kitten wants her milk ** Sí, mi vida - Yes, my life ** Tómalo - Take it ** Papi - Daddy ** Gracias, Papi - Thank you, Daddy ** De nada, corazón - You’re welcome, sweetheart

#damian priest x reader #wwe fanfiction #wwe imagine #damian priest imagine #damian priest kinklist #damian priest smut

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theurgists · 9 months

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⋆｡‧₊°♱༺ SKIN MEETS SKIN ༻♱༉‧₊˚.

aemond targaryen x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ smut, porn without plot ( literally ), riding ( woman-on-top ), p in v, unprotected sex, missionary, nipple play, not proof-read

a/n: i'm gonna sink into the little hole i dug for myself now. i need to cool down after this...

The uneven edges of his fingernails skimming over the bare skin of your thighs seemed like it could’ve been a fever dream. His chest decorated in small freckled-kisses expanded and contracted with such vigor, that he struggled to breathe as his jaw went slack; hot breath hitting the flushed spot of flesh between your chest as you hovered above him.

“I know you can take it, gevie.” Aemond cooed encouragingly, voice a few octaves above a whisper. It was raspy, just sultry enough that you had clenched around the length of his cocked sheathed within you, the pads of his finger ghosting over the goosebumps that formed. Beautiful.

Your tight grip on his smooth shoulder had tightened, fingers bending in a way that they became sore, nails digging into the skin there, creating indents shaped like crescent moons to linger as a temporary reminder. The action sent a shiver that reverberated down his spine so quickly, it was almost harsh how fast the feeling had come.

A lazy smile came to rest on his thin lips as you slowly sank yourself onto him once more, a loud whine making its way past you as the slight burn added more pain to the immense pleasure you were already feeling, a desperate ache that you craved to soothe.

“Aemond, please.”

It came as a sob between clenched teeth as you ground your hips, warm hands burning his shoulders as you sat on his thighs, bare chest flush against yours, a certain heat you couldn’t help but sink deeper into as he removed his calloused hands from your thighs to place at your hips, squeezing the fat there.

Oh, how he loved the way you whined, begging for him in a tone of voice that no one else but him gets the pleasure of hearing as he pleased you. It was addictive — his touch. The way his eyes would widen at the lewd sounds that left your throat was an experience unlike no other, especially in a time like this where it sent a small twinge of satisfaction to run throughout his thrumming heart.

Aemond’s hands forcefully moved your hips, neck craned to watch the expressions on your face morph as he hit those desired spots within you. “Please what, my love? Use your words or I won’t know what you want.”

There it was — the wet heat of his mouth against one of your hard nipples, sucking as if his life depended on it, cheeks hallowed, tongue lapping at the stiff peak. “Oh, fuck, harder please, please…” You trailed off, words fading into a low sob as he bucked his hips upward, causing your jaw to go slack, breath leaving your lungs quickly at the sudden action.

From there, you could see his eye darken through your dark, long lashes, his slender fingers gripping the sides of your hips even tighter, and you were positive that in the mornings to come, the red, blotchy skin from his roughness would blossom into hues of dark blues and purples.

Aemond continued to suck, swirling his tongue in every direction he could think of, earning the reward of hearing the different sounds you’d make depending on where his tongue would wander; where his teeth would indent, and where he’d mark you for everyone to see.

It was embarrassing how needy you were for him despite your arguments stating otherwise. The one-eyed prince enjoyed this.

It pleased him so, seeing you a mess above, bouncing up and down on his cock as the heavenly sounds of your warm, buttery skin slapped against his. It proved that you were his to take, for him to fuck until his arms grew sore from tossing you around and using you just like you begged him to.

Aemond fucking loved it — he fucking loved you.

“Look at you.” He praised, letting the back of his head rest against the coolness of the wooden bedframe as it knocked against the thin foundation of the walls, chipping with each hard thrust he delivered into your cunt. “You’re taking me like a good little whore, aren’t you princess?”

Your response wasn’t a verbal one — no — it had his toes curling, muscles flexing as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your chest flush against his once more, keeping you in place as he pounded into you relentlessly, a primal urge taking over every cell in his body.

“Right there, right there.” It was all you were able to get out as he flipped you over on your back, the coolness of the sheets eliciting a breathy sigh and the sudden motion sending your head spinning. Even then, Aemond never unsheathed himself from within you, his biceps had appeared in the peripheral vision, the veins of his arms visible as he held himself over your frame.

His hips began their movement once more, faster this time as your breasts bounced up and down, something that had caused Aemond to groan almost animalistically. The sound was muffled by his closed mouth, the apples of his cheeks puffing, a small ache that sent his teeth grinding against each other soon after.

“You’re doing so good.”

The flesh of his lips ghosted over the shell of your ear, wandering down under your jaw until they rested above your pulse point; tongue touching, sucking, anything — until blood cells had surfaced beneath the skin, a splotch of irritated skin in its wake.

You had gasped in between thrusts, hands on either side of you, gripping the cotton of the sheets as the knot in your stomach had formed. He was rubbing against your walls, eager to reach that spot in you that had rendered you breathless countless times during past intimate moments. In haste, you had circled your right hand around his wrist, tugging it away from its position on your waist and onto your aching pussy, your clit puffed from lack of care. “Here, Aemond, fucking do something, anything. Want your hands on me.”

Your begging was pathetic, at least, to you as blood had rushed to the surface of your cheeks, hips bucking into his for what seemed like the thousandth time.

In the fluorescent lighting of the room, he could see how your wetness glistened on the base of his cock whenever he’d pull out of you, only to ram right back in. It was a process he thoroughly enjoyed, even more so when the pads of his calloused fingers had found their way past your slick folds, thumb pressing down to rub on your clit.

Your hips had involuntarily bucked into his clammy palm, chest rising and falling in an unsteady rhythm at the quickness of his digits combined with his cock pounding you into the creaking springs of the mattress.

Licking the flesh of his lips, Aemond lowered his head, the tip of his nose pressing against yours for only a second before he connected his lips to yours, tongue swiping across your bottom flesh, darting inside of your mouth, twirling with yours once they met in the middle.

You had him right where you wanted him, and it'd take all the force of The Seven to drag him away.

#aemond targaryen smut #house of the dragon aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #hotd x reader #aemond drabble

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wileys-russo · 9 months

Note

not sure if you’d like this idea but i keep seeing this trend of coloring in your partners tattoos and imagine a blurb where reader is doing this with alexia or mapi <33

feels so weird to write mapi or ingrid without the other tbh colouring book II m.león

"hola amor!" you called out as you returned home from work, utterly exhausted as you swung the door closed behind you, frowning as your girlfriend was nowhere to be seen.

"maría?" you sung out, dropping your bag on the counter and wandering around the flat, popping your head in and out of each room. finally, as you entered your bedroom you breathed a sigh of relief.

your girlfriends back was faced toward you sat outside in the late afternoon sun on the balcony of your bedroom, clearly focused on something as you made your way over.

opening the doors you quickly realised why she hadn't heard you, between the gentle buzz of her tattoo gun and the music playing from her phone you clearly caught the older girl off guard as she looked up in surprise.

"more?" you shook your head with a smile, the girl tattooing what looked like a sword on her ankle. "i told you bebita, they are addictive!" the spaniard grinned, flicking off the gun and wiping down the fresh ink with a sanitary pad.

"like it? my lines are getting very good." mapi beamed flashing her new tattoo toward you as you hummed taking a seat, kicking your feet up and sighing contentedly.

"you know...i can still give you one." you felt her hand on your leg as you cracked one eye open and smiled in amusement. "and you know, when hell freezes over." you teased as she pinched your leg lightly with a hum.

packing away the gun and wrapping up her tattoo carefully the girl pulled off her gloves and dissapeared inside for a moment to put everything away. "how was work?" mapi returned, bending down to place a chaste kiss on your lips.

"good, tiring, long, very glad its the weekend." you grinned up at her, accepting her outstretched hand as she guided you up and out of your seat. "come hermosa, rest with me." your girlfriend pulled you down onto the bed with her, pulling your back into her front as she held you tightly.

the two of you spoke about your days, wrapped up together in the warm rays of the dying soon, golden hour both your favourite times of day.

your girlfriend settling a little more, the sweet words whispered in your ear and the gentle kisses placed to the back of your shoulder blades did very little to lull you to sleep, though that seemed no issue for the tattooed footballer behind you.

glancing over your shoulder you smiled seeing she was asleep, chest rising and falling as you carefully wiggled out of her hold and placed a kiss to her forehead. your combined body heats a little much you shuffled to lay beside her, mapi stirring and rolling onto her stomach but otherwise remaining out cold.

cheekily answering a few work emails you found yourself doom scrolling social medias, one video in particular peaking your interest. pocketing your phone you quietly made your way out of the bedroom, hunting around the house for what you were after.

returning to the bedroom your girlfriend grunted tiredly as you sat on the back of her legs. "qué?" the defender mumbled. "can i color in your tattos mi amor?" you asked, bending down so your head laid next to hers.

"why?" her body vibrated with a small chuckle as she blinked sleepily. "why not?" you questioned back as the older girl hummed, nodding and shutting her eyes again as you kissed her cheek.

her body tensed a little as you pushed her shirt up, finger tracing the multitude of designs inked along the soft tanned skin. assisted by the pencil case you kept handy for when your niece visited you grabbed out a handful of markers and shifted a little so you were comfortable.

your girlfriend relaxed and drifted back to sleep, finding the gentle scratchings of the markers against her back oddly soothing as you frowned in concentration. finishing the lion in the middle of her back you moved onto the smaller more intricate designs on her shoulder blades, taking your time to ensure you kept it neat.

you felt a little childish at how much you were enjoying this, admittedly only coloring when your niece was over and that was only ever to placate her after a tantrum. but you couldn't deny that this was helping the melt away the stress which lingered within your body from a long week of meetings and deadlines and overdue reports.

unknown to you your girlfriend was now awake, laying down quietly and making sure not to move too much, glancing up with a soft smile seeing the way your tongue poked out of the corner of your mouth in concentration.

"bon dia hermosa." you caught her eye giving her a smile of your own, capping your marker and tucking it back away. "i think it is a little late for a bon dia princesa." the defender grinned, grabbing your hands and gently tugging you back down onto the bed beside her.

"did you have a nice time coloring?" she mocked playfully, kissing your nose as you rolled your eyes. "you're like a human coloring book amor, can you blame me?" you leaned in to give her a proper kiss, a lazy makeout session quick to follow.

you sighed happily at the way her hands rested on the small of your back pulling your body closer into hers, angling your head a little more to the side as your tongues clashed and you tangled your hands in her hair.

your eyes fluttered closed as her lips detached from yours and found their home on your neck, the defender moving to grab your hips as she sucked a bright red mark just below your jaw. pulling away she peppered gentle kisses across it to soothe the sting and her teeth tugged playfully at your ear lobe.

"you know mi amor if you let me give you a tattoo you could become your own colouring book."

#mapi leon x reader #woso fanfics #woso x reader #mapi leon #woso imagine #woso blurbs #woso

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dev1lm4n · 1 year

Text

familiar face

ko-fi | series masterlist

pairing: porn star!joel miller x f!reader

summary: you're wicked fantasies' number one fan, who would've guessed that he'd be a part of your host family.

word count: 3.9k

warnings: explicit (18+), pre-apocalypse, masturbation, internet porn, age gap (joel's in his mid 30's and reader is in her early 20's), reader is an exchange student but nationality is not mentioned

notes: this is set on 2013 like the game, but characters are potrayed like how they did in the series. send me a req or chat me!

To say you’re obsessed would be an understatement to the severity of your addiction.

Enslaved to this certain habit of yours, your mind was wrapped around it like a wrapper to a gas station lollipop. Tacky and overzealous. A constant revolting urge that needed relieving, tension that made guts throb and lungs squeaking out for dear life when not pleased. This addiction of yours wasn’t as customary as slender rolls of cigarettes and weed brownies, it was a little odd and shameful to admit to. Still, it was a part of you. Even when you’d rather shuffle it into a dark corner than be confronted by it.

You couldn’t remember how it all started, but it seems to have taken on a life of its own. Would it be shameless if you openly admit that you always open up a schedule for it? It became a routine. Perhaps the unfinished papers, the impossibly low marks, and the frequent suffering was what drove you to it. It served as an easy release. No hassle. No awkward ha-ha-has and faking ah-ah-ahs. No mindless chattering over football or the current state of the government to earn what you truly want: a good fucking orgasm.

This addiction comes in the form of a man.

A man who exists within the confines of your 13-inch laptop. More precisely, within a specific site that begins with the abbreviation for pornography and ends with hub.

Your eyes cruised over the edge of your lousy laptop, which still continues to emit a weird helicopter noise despite your latest visit to a technician, to find the time. To your pleasure, it marked precisely 11 PM, the exact time in which you promised yourself to put an end to your essay despite how unmethodical it looked. A silent smile made its way to your lips as your cursor quickly pressed the x button, before surely making its way to create a new tab.

“P”

Just the single letter quickly brought up your most frequent website. A simple website predominantly black with splashes of yellow accents, though what was exceptionally appealing was the instant stimuli given from the front page. Your eyes twinkled like a starved pervert. What greeted your eyes first was a lady facing your way. Preppy rounded glasses with a shade of mauve lipstick you’re quite fond of, dressed in what you could only assume to be a dollar tree medical gown. She looked like she’s in pure bliss, like the curved cock stuffing her cunt was enough to leave her boneless. “Creepy Doctor Convinces Young Asian Medical Intern to Fuck to Get Ahead” - what an odd title you remark internally.

You scrolled lower with two fingers on the track pad as if it’d get interesting - you knew it wouldn’t, but you couldn’t help feeling curious at what other people jerk off to. “Amateur FOURSOME have FUN. Rough, wet, & sloppy” was what caught your eyes next by the sheer visual it played out as a preview. Two girls were slobbering on two separate weeping cocks. Blinding porn lighting harsh against their faces as they forced their heads down it with overdone expressions. You knew it didn’t feel good. Not when he’s rubbing her labia like a DJ. Not when he’s pistoning in her like he’s a horse in heat with no tempo whatsoever. Were you being way too tough on porn production? Unreasonably so.

Just like you’re programmed in your line of codes, you typed out his channel next.

“Wicked Fantasies”

His channel popped up on top with 150K subscribers, 4.1K friends, and 50.7M video views. For a minute, your mind raced to imagine if you’d stood out to him compared to the rest of his 149.999 subscribers. If he'd like you. If you're pretty enough to join his selected pick of co-stars. It’s stupid, you’re painfully aware, to fantasize about getting personal with a porn actor. You shook the silly thought away immediately as you slowly glided your fingers across your touchpad to admire his works. He was just so.. breathtaking in every single video despite the lack of face in some. A diverse line of co-stars - pale, tanned, dark - did nothing but help put his devilish charms forth.

You let your fingers stroke the inside of your thigh, the part that’s lightly exposed. It’s shameful to admit that you’ve watched all his videos, but you did. Each and every one of them with no fail. Despite the familiarity, every footage presented on his page does nothing but rile you up, sending you to a frenzied madness. You let out a small longing sigh. Your gentle fingers slowly brush over the thin material of your panties, over your throbbing hole, feeling the moisture grow there.

“20 year old Babysitter takes a rough fucking for extra cash Watch her face when it goes in!” appealed to you more than anything. Partially because you’d wish you could babysit his children if it meant you’d be able to get that kind of method of transaction, you practically salivate at the thought alone. The preview played. Short clips compiled together to compel watchers and god damn was it working. Your breath grew shallow as if the oxygen surrounding you was as good as solid matter. Still, you worked your way down the page to evaluate all your options thoroughly.

“Please cum in my pussy. Sweet May earns a huge creampie after a deep sensual fucking” was what you settled with. His promise was what drew you in, to cum in her pussy and show his masterpiece. The way you clicked onto the title was feverish, even more when you had it on full screen. Your laptop was cushioned on a haphazard of pillows, allowing you to get into a more accommodating position. You laid on your side, before shuffling off your shorts from the waist band. A nervous puff of air barely escaped your lips as you clicked play.

The video ran.

Your throat bobbed nervously.

His videos were always edited in a way that shows his age. Cursive letters noting down his and his co-star’s name - with a font you knew only people over the age of thirty would use - entered your screen for a split second before it quickly cuts off to another scene. What you could only describe as a reassuring grunt seeped through your cable earphones and onto your nerve receptors, causing your hole to twitch impatiently.

You could see him clearly now.

Well, not all that clear, but you could see his half hard cock prodding the girl’s soft lips. Her dirty blonde hair framed her face prettily as she took him in with such expertise. He molded her mouth to the shape of his cock - slow but sure - right to the very hilt, before pulling her back out. A sloppy wet trail left behind to gleam under the dim lights. It’s incredibly sensual, none of the obviously fake porny moans in motion, and it left you wondering if he’d morph your chaste mouth to the size of his as well. Would he like that?

Another scene cuts through the view. This time he was gently running his calloused fingers down her core, barely over the thick stripe of hair, then it went over her hip bone and back to her thighs. May, who you knew by heart from all the videos she had with him, didn’t say a word. Not even a small hitch in her breath. If you were there, you’d sure to be a whimpering mess just by him touching. Just by that throaty chuckle he lets out when he's amused.

You’re five minutes into the video when he finally relieved you of your suffering. He was on his knees, bending her pliant body down on her fours. His large hands gripped over the skin on May’s hip for support as he sheathed himself in one go. It went deep, you know that for sure from the way she let out a satisfied moan. Her face contorted when he pulled back and thrusted all the way in once more. You could feel it now; the way your pelvis spasmed at the sight even when you’re barely hovering your palm over your clothed center. She was the one getting fucked, but you could feel his phantom thrust pounding slowly. Over and over again.

He was cut off right by the shoulder, but he made an appearance when he slightly leaned down to gather her hair into a loose bundle and he was a dream. Dark hair with light speckles of grays you could barely make out from the quality of the video. His brown eyes pierced into the camera - as if he’s watching your needy expression, making fun of the way you couldn’t help but rub your fingers over your sensitive nub because God does it feel good. It sent shivers right down your spine,

You were entirely sure he was trying to edge you, because the next scene had you bucking your knees forward to add that extra pressure. He had May down on her back with his camera hovering over her, capturing the way in which he forced his way in. His ruddy tip nudged her hole as if it was a gentle knock to a neighbor’s door. It wasn’t enough anymore, you had to pull your panties to the side. With your bare cunt exposed, you gently tapped your clit with the tip of your finger, feeling the sensitivity start to build at the directness.

Your unoccupied hand slowly slipped under your shirt, tracing over your oversensitive skin before it nestled around your nipple, squeezing and running your fingers right on the center of the hardened lump. May didn’t even resemble you, but you could fantasize yourself in her position. He abandoned the camera spotlighting his close-ups to bend her in a nicer position. With her legs up together facing the ceiling above them, in order to create a nice tightness for him to make use of. May bit her thumb in exchange. A chorus of soft, feather-light feminine moans followed his every move. You could hear him now, breathing terribly unstable as he found a way to insert himself deeper.

“Such a smart girl,” he whispered.

He had her in a mating press. His large forearm supported the rock of his hips and you obsessed over it, how it’d perhaps feel when he held her by the thighs. How it’d feel if it found its way around your neck to constrict it, to choke you as he bullied his cock in your leaking pussy. You let your pointer finger spread the slickness down your heat, making its rounds around your clit, before probing it right inside. Just one because that's all you managed to get confident in. The cushy feeling was way too familiar for you and you wished it was someone else’s finger - maybe a larger one like Wicked Fantasies’ - but you’re well grateful with yours.

“Yeah. You like it deep?”

He asked with that Texan twang of his. The teasing lilt of his voice does well to compliment the skillful way in which he stretched May’s hole. You could barely see him in frame, but you’d catch glimpses of his boyish grin each time. It drove you to pump your finger faster, In and out, in and out, steady to the way he moved his hips.

“You feel it in your tummy?”

He attempted once again, but the helpless girl could only moan out a barely there response. You were reacting frantically though. So turned on by the sight alone that you had to dig your canines onto the tender skin of your hand. You wanted him so badly, it’s making you spill all over. Slick ran down your thighs to your unmade bed, drool spread across your hand as you continued to muffle out your pathetic noises.

“Please cum in my pussy,” May could hardly whimper. The desperation in her voice made you grind your pelvis onto your palm in an equally desperate manner.

“You want me to cum in your pussy? Want me to fill you up?”

Yes, please, please fill me up, plagued your mind. You curled your fingers inside, a pathetic attempt to stroke that sweet spot inside.

Over and over again as the man in the video groaned lowly. When he let out an almost animalistic growl to end his rodeo, you faltered quickly. Your leg twitched as your orgasm began to taper. Quickly like a full sweep on a bowling course, knocking down all that’s left of your dignity. You managed to keep your voice low, but you couldn’t say the same about the absurd amount of wetness soiling your bed sheets. The scene cut off to him showing off his pearlescent load deep inside of her and it almost made you cum a second time.

Wicked Fantasies had 149.999 other subscribers, but you’re sure you were the filthiest out of all of them.

Austin was nothing like you’d expect. The vibrant blue van you’ve rode in for an entire day or so slowly rolled to a stop in front of a classic suburban home. Empty roads and loud calls of cockerels audible even from within the confines of metal walls. The van’s engine hummed softly as it idled, tinted windows reflecting the honeyed rays of the morning sun. This was your stop. A house of character with an eye-catching letter eleven hammered sloppily down the porch, a lone pick-up truck parked right down the center, and a red mailbox that was stuffed to the very brim with spam.

As you stepped out, you were quickly enveloped by warm air, causing beads to form evidently on your forehead. The humid climate was a good reminder that you’ve stepped into another realm, a new page to your life which held Texas’ scorching sun and faint whiffs of leather. You looked rather.. constipated standing on the very end of the driveway. Like a knock-off salesman with a large tote slung over your left shoulder and a suitcase tight against your right. The look on your face didn’t help either, a concoction of sleep deprived and nervous.

You willed yourself to march towards the front porch.

That went well.

What came next was to knock and you swore you get entirely weak in the knees when the realization came sweeping in.

After a series of pacing back-and-forth and tugging at both ends of your lips to train a polite smile on, you knocked on the large front door. Once. Twice. Then, one last time. Wooden doors always sound incredibly heavy and imposing, you cringed at the mere sound.

A few hurried thuds echoed to where you’re standing and you’ve never felt more desperate to make a run for it before someone made it to the front door. What if they’re a sleazy nasty couple who’d want to traffic you into some weird foot-fetish chain? What if they’re a pair of delusional flat earth believers that unironically declined the existence of climate change? What if-

The door swung open in one grand motion.

You had always been a pessimist - the world always seems to fuck you up in the most creative way possible - but what met your gaze was a young girl. Her hair was like coils of pure earth, softly reflecting the light of the sun; each curl trembled subtly in a humid breeze, a compliment to her doe eyes. She greeted you with a gentle smile. One that speaks language the two of you understood without fail. In return, you tilted your head in a friendly manner as you adorned a sheepish look.

“Hey. You’re the exchange student, right? Come inside!” She invited you in with an astonishing amount of energy considering it’s barely past six. “I’ve been waiting for you all morning, y’know.”

You nodded surely as you awkwardly shimmied your way around her lithe figure. It’s taking all of you to not do a full head-to-toe scan of what she looks like out of sheer curiosity, but you thrive in the short glances you could catch of her. Was she the daughter in this family? It’d be nice to have someone you could relate to, maybe.. maybe you could even paint your nails together and relish in fun girly activities.

“Sorry. Our van broke down on the highway,” you gave your lousy excuse.

“No need. My dad’s not even up yet,” she spoke with a small sigh. Her long fingers massaged circles on her knotted temple as if emphasizing her irritation. “Just put your bags down here. I’ll sort ‘em out for you this afternoon.”

With her confirmation in mind, you pushed your suitcase over to one side of the hallway, along with the tote which weighed more than you do. Without the accessories you’ve been holding onto from the very start of your trip, you felt naked and exposed. Unsure of how to position your arms and legs. It wasn’t a good look, but you stood entirely still like a Barbie display. Both of your eyes stared down at the younger girl as she swayed her hips to the light music, cooking up something skillfully with the flip of her hand.

“What’s your name?”

“Sarah. Sarah Miller. I know what yours is from my dad,” she looked over her shoulder cheekily.

“Sarah’s a nice name.”

“Is it? I think it sounds aggressively Texan. Like I’d go yeehaw, howdy young lady with cowboy boots and a good plaid shirt on,” she chuckled. “Oh and then I’d lasso you real good.”

Her remarks were as refreshing as a summer breeze even when they’re a tad bit snarky. You already knew that she’s going to get along incredibly well with you. Witnessing her shimmy her shoulders carelessly made you unaware of the heavy thump steadily making its way down the stairs.

“There’s the genius who landed me the name,” Sarah whistled out, pulling you out of your hazy daze.

You turned your head in a one-eighty motion, every last inch of self-control being betrayed at the motion of being finally able to see the man who’d house you. The head of the house who’d you continue to see for the rest of the year. There was a lot of expectation you bore on your shoulders, but what fell beneath your eyes exceeded everything. You weren’t even doing a good job in pretending you’re not entirely taken aback, wide-eyes bulged out of your sockets and you looked more like a cartoon sheep more than anything.

He was beautiful.

“Hey, babygirl,” he greeted Sarah with that rugged voice of his. You could hear the weight of his step as he made his way over to his daughter. Every move that he made, even the part where he hastily tucked his shirt in his worn-out jeans, made your blood drain. At his arrival, he wrapped his large forearm around her shoulders before landing a sweet kiss on top of her head.

“Our guest has arrived, hm?”

“Yes. You were rude not to greet her in front of our door,” Sarah protested openly as she took hold of the plates she cooked up. She made a double trip from the kitchen to the dining table for the first time in forever since they’re finally upgrading to a three person party.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he offered her a gentle apology before taking a seat in front of the piping hot plates. His legs spread out enough to occupy two leg spaces, though he was left in a masculine position that was charming enough to have you forgive the action. Sarah placed a carton of orange juice on the table aggressively. Some of the containings spurted out and left a pooling mess right by his plate.

“No coffee for you today, dad,” she huffed. Sarah was impatient in starting her breakfast, cutleries already in hand as she dug into the charred sausages.

That was until she realized that you were still standing there on the edge of the room, as out-of-place as ever, looking down at the two as if you’re watching a live sitcom show.

“You’re invited to breakfast too, y’know,” she laughed good-naturedly.

“Oh yeah. Sorry,” you muttered out a brief apology at that before making your way over to the empty seat between the two Millers.

For once, you hoped Sarah wasn’t observant enough to notice the way in which you had your eyes stuck to Mr. Miller’s face with every step that you took. He had the kind of face that stopped people in their tracks. You guessed he must get used to that, the sudden pause in a person's natural expression when they looked his way followed by overcompensating with a weak, embarrassed smile. It didn't help that he wasn’t so modest with it. You weren’t sure if you’re imagining things, but you swore his every movement held intention. What his intention was you couldn’t figure out just yet.

“So you’re in your third year of college?” He attempted small talk. You knew it was small talk, but the way he looked in your eyes with such grave intensity had you faltering.

“Yeah. I am.”

“Thought I’d bring a college gal in to bring good influence to this naughty daughter of mine,” he grinned. “She’s been slackin’ off as of lately.”

Sarah beamed him a petulant pout, in which he responded with a handsome smile. His dark brown hair bounced around seamlessly and for a second, just for a split second, he looked rather.. familiar. Was he an old neighbor of yours by chance?

“What d’ya major in?”

“Computer science. I know. Real nerdy, but I swear I’m not a nerd,” you explained before stuffing your mouth with a generous amount of scrambled eggs.

“I don’t know. You’re not all that believable,” Sarah teased. “Bet you read weird comic books for a hobby.”

You jutted out your lips playfully at her response, which earned a hearty set of snickers from your side. Mr. Miller was thoroughly amused by the banter you’ve played out in front of him and in response, blessed you with an array of gruff chuckles. One in which you swore you’ve heard before. The memory was right there on the back of your head, but you could barely reach out for it at the moment.

“Such a smart girl,” he spoke mindlessly.

It was the exact phrase that made your mind slot in the last piece of puzzle to what you’ve been searching for, a reason of why you think he was oddly familiar when you knew for a fact that he lived miles away from you. You weren’t hallucinating, nor were you delusional.

You knew him.

Far better than you knew anyone else.

He was the man you’ve been watching every day of the week, whether in the depth of the evening or the early mornings. He was the exact man you’ve fantasized for years on end, stuffing your pussy with your fingers or even your toothbrush if you’re feeling adventurous to the thought of him ravaging you. You knew every part of his body, every beauty mark and calluses. You knew which things he liked the most, how he enjoyed being licked on his tip or how he enjoyed plunging into the very hilt. You knew the noises and praises he’d let out.

You knew him in the foulest manner possible.

“Are you okay?” Sarah’s voice brought you back into the real world. The world in which you’re sitting across your porn star crush, eating a good plate of breakfast as if everything is normal.

“Yeah,” you breathed out the palpable tension.

“Yeah. I’m okay.”

pls reblog n comment if u enjoyed this!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #the last of us fic #the last of us #joel miller fic #joel miller tlou #joel miller #tlou #the last of us imagine #the last of us x reader

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