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#i was gonna give him like a more face looking face
robo-writing · 3 days
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How different Logan’s would eat you out <3
X1, X2, and X3
✦A mix between ravenous and romantic. He wants you to know just how much you’re loved, and he expresses that by how long he can eat your pussy without stopping. savoring each and every movement from you, he actually enjoys when you lose control and tighten your legs around his head, moaning something along the lines of you’ll be the death of me as he laps at your cunt.
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Your thighs quake around his head, hands in his hair as you look down at him. He’s having the time of his life, licking at your pussy like it’s the last thing he’ll do in this life, pulling you down and forcing you to sit right on his face.
“Don’t need air, stay,” he mumbles, eyes looking up at you. “Just stay here for me sweetheart.”
You want to protest but goddamn does he make it hard for you, especially when his hands grip the fat of your ass and grind you onto his lips. Higher and higher, you feel your orgasm taking hold with each movement.
“Logan, gonna come,” you whine, and he pushes you as far down as you can go.
“Come on my face doll,” he groans, tonguing at your shaking entrance. “Get my face nice and wet, yeah?”
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Origins Wolverine
✦Lovey dovey sickeningly sweet romantic sex; down for anything as long as you’re involved. Sit on his face? Gladly. Pull your legs over his shoulders? Just say when. The kind of lover whose heart skips a beat every time he sees you naked like it's the first time, despite the fact that you're married with a house. Speaks to your pussy as if it’s separate from you.
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“How’s my girl doing? Doing alright?”
Your answer is a moan, your pussy clenching around nothing. Logan smiles at your response, thumb stroking up to press against your sensitive clit.
“Yeah, doing just fine ain’t you?” He breathes, kissing the hardened nub before returning to suck on it, your legs shaking in response. “And my other girl’s nice and ready ain’t she?”
“Baby,” you whine, desperate to cum. He’s edged you for as long as possible and you’re almost certain if you wait any longer you’ll actually die. Thankfully Logan grants you mercy, tightening his hold on your thighs as he focuses all his effort into making your pussy leak on his face.
“Come for me sweetheart,” he groans, and you do. Fingers digging into the sheets, you feel your orgasm take hold as Logan wrings every ounce of pleasure he can, kissing at your thighs when your overstimulated pussy can’t take any more.
You barely catch your breath before he speaks to your cunt, admiring how your come trails down your thighs.
“There she is,” he chuckles, index finger slowly collecting the remains of your juices, admiring how they glisten in the low light of your bedroom. “Nice and satisfied, ain’t she?”
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DOFP Logan
✦Second biggest munch. Running from danger constantly doesn’t make a lot of time for sex so whenever he finds the rare opportunity to do so best believe he’s jumping at it. Likes to joke that he’s started to go grey because he can’t fuck you as often as he likes. Truly eats you out like he needs your pussy more than he needs air.
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“Need to be quiet baby,” he growls, pinning your thrashing hips against the wall. “You’re going to get us caught.”
It’s one of the rare days when you’ve found a safe house, even rarer that it’s just you and Logan alone for once. One look at his face and you already knew what was running through that adamantium skull of his, dragging you away to the nearest closet where you’ve been for god knows how long—the concept of time always seems to leave you wherever Logan’s talented mouth is involved.
You’re biting at your hand to muffle your moans but it’s still not enough, free hand tangled in his graying strands as an anchor. You can see his eyes roll back at the feeling, sloppily kissing up your pussy.
“God I wanna hear you,” he moans. “I’d give anything to fuckin’ hear you baby, but you’ve gotta behave for me. Don’t want anyone else seein’ this.”
The scene is something straight out of a porno—your legs hooked over his shoulders as he eats your cunt feverishly, the filthy sounds he makes with each movement, your hips desperately chasing his mouth—you wish this could never end.
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70s Logan
✦By far the most selfish, he eats you out for his pleasure alone. He doesn’t give a damn if you’re crawling away, he will pull you back and lock his lips around your clit until you’re damn near thrashing in his arms, grinding against the mattress because that's just how hard he is. He won’t apologize for making you pass out, nor will he stay the night, but if he likes you enough you might find a card on your nightstand with his number hastily scribbled onto it.
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When you decided to bring tall, dark, and grumpy home you didn’t expect it to end with tears running down your face, practically begging for a reprieve that won’t come. His hands lock together, forcing you still as he eats you out, not giving a damn about how pathetic you sound.
“Quit fuckin’ squirming,” he grunts, nosing at your pussy. “Lemme enjoy this.”
The man is talented, that’s a fact. Knows just how to push your buttons in all the right ways, but the problem is that he’s pushed your buttons nearly three times already and you’re almost certain his beard is going to give you the worst rash you’ve ever had.
But damn it if he isn’t responsible for some of the best orgasms you’ve ever had.
“Logan, fuck—lemme take a break,” you’re begging at this point, slapping at his shoulders when he doesn’t let up. Your breath catches in your chest when he smacks your thigh roughly in response, smiling against your pussy when he feels you clench in response.
“Don’t tell me you’re not enjoying yourself,” he mocks, showing just how true his words ring when his fingers rub circles against your clit.
You swear you can feel any coherent thoughts leak out of your ears, focused solely on coming. It’s embarrassing how well he plays your body like a fine tuned instrument, but you can’t bring yourself to care when you’re squirting a mess onto your mattress.
“There we go, ain’t that a sight?” He laughs, pulling you closer towards his face. “Now, be a good little slut and behave while I enjoy my meal, okay?”
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Old Man Logan
✦#1 munch and it’s not even close. When his job leaves him tired and his body is sore he finds comfort between your legs, it’s the only time he can turn his brain off and drown himself in you. He’s so fucking starved that he’ll genuinely get lost in his own headspace and ignore your thrashing and whining just to wring another orgasm from your tired body. Kisses your labia and mutters how she's such a pretty pussy as you're trying to catch your breath.
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Logan didn't even bother to shed his clothes, making a beeline directly to you the moment he stepped inside your shared home. Dirt still settled on his skin, his head nestled into the crook of your neck as your bodies sway within the closed off kitchen. "Missed me, huh?" you ask, his sigh answer plenty. "Always miss you princess," he whispers, pulling you closer. He lifts you up with warning, sitting you down on the countertop, kneeling between your dangling legs. His beard tickles your bare skin, pulling you close enough to place a kiss onto your pussy, right over the fabric of your panties. "Fuck," you sigh. "You really missed me." His smile is infectious, nuzzling against your fabric-covered core. He kisses you through it for a while before peeling off the moistened garment, thumbs reaching to stroke your pussy. The sight makes your skin hot, hands tangled in his hair. "Been waiting all fuckin' day for this," he moans, spreading you apart and indulging in your juices. "Can tell you were waiting for me too." You feel your body melt with every touch, Logan's hands an anchor as he makes out with your heat, nose bumping against your clit with each movement.
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Worst Logan
✦Still trying to wrap his head around you wanting to be with him, but goddamn if he isn’t grateful. Reverent, like a sinner at an alter. Your word is law, likes it when you pull him by the hair and show him where you need it, loves it when you tell him how good he’s doing, presses himself further into your pussy when you’re ready to come. It's all about you and he wouldn't have it any other way.
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You lovingly stroke his hair, back arching when he kisses your clit oh so gently.
“Lemme take a look at you,” you ask, and the sight of him is enough to make you come.
Face red, blushing so hard it reaches his chest, eyes so glazed over with lust his pupils leave nothing but small rings of green in his eyes. You cradle his face and the weight of his head falls into them immediately, chasing your touch.
“Gonna make me feel good, aren’t you?” You ask, and he nods his head, kissing your palm.
“Lemme taste you baby,” he whispers. “Swear to god I’ll make you feel good.”
“Never doubted you for a second Logan,” you whisper back, tugging his head back to your soaked cunt. He breathes in your scent, fucking groans at the sight of your pussy before he descends on it, noisily showing you just how much he meant his words.
“Fuckin’ delicious baby, so fuckin’ wet,” he moans. “Can’t get enough of you.”
He only gets louder when you pull him forward by the hair, rough hands leaving a mark where his fingers grip your skin.
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luveline · 3 days
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hotch x reader with new baby girl, honestly i have no ideas just anything with girl!dad aaron lovey fluff is all i want, he’s just so lovely ily jadey 💕
thank you for requesting! fem, 1.4k
Hotch is so hungry he genuinely wonders if it is acceptable to collapse and beg you to make him a sandwich. He probably would if Jane hadn’t tired you out so fiercely that morning; learning to crawl is hard on both the baby and the mom. 
It’s not his turn to make dinner, but he is, because he doesn’t really care who’s turn it is. He has the tortellini on a low heat, the veggies toasting to a golden brown in the oven. 
He wonders if having a baby isn’t what you thought it would be. It’s certainly not how Hotch imagined it, because Jane is gorgeous and he couldn’t be more in love with her, but she’s also very hard work. Hard work you often perform alone. You don’t seem upset, only tired, and so making dinner is his pleasure. It’s as he’s finishing up that he wonders if he should’ve offered to put Jane down instead. 
He’s trying so, so hard to be the best father and husband that he can be. He might always find it difficult (but it's an effort he’s always willing to make). 
“Dad?” Jack asks. 
“Yeah?” 
“Dinner almost done?” 
Hotch wraps an arm around Jack’s front despite his wriggling. “Almost,” he says into Jack’s hair, “did you wash your hands?” 
“I always wash my hands. Did you wash yours?” 
Hotch laughs. Steals that extra second with his arms around Jack before he pulls away. “Of course I did. I’m gonna go make sure everything’s okay in babyland, okay? And then we’ll fill in your homework diary.” 
Jack nods and goes back to colouring. In babyland, the living room, outfitted with toys and swings and sleepers, you and Jane are slouched on the floor. You’re leaning against the front of the couch with Jane in your lap while she looks up at you. At eight months old she’s more than fond of a cuddle. Her eyes are wide with love and awe alike as you rub the bridge of her nose with your pinky finger, the closer you get to her eyes, the more they squint closed. You repeat the motion over and over again. “You’re feeling sleepy,” you whisper in a funny tone, “you want to nap badly. You’re gonna sleep for a long couple of hours so mommy can have a bath.” 
“Mom can have a bath,” Hotch says. 
You don’t startle, but your surprise is evident in the way your hand slides up her back. “I’m kidding around.” 
“No, it’s okay. You go take a bath, I can have her.” 
“She might not like that.” 
Jane has clingy syndrome. “Does it matter?” he asks sincerely. If she cries, she cries, and he will try his hardest to comfort her. 
You smile slowly, and sweetly. “Okay, I’ll be quick. I don’t want to miss dinner.” 
“Dinner’s ready when you are.” 
Hotch crouches down to begin the transfer. “Hello, little love,” he murmurs, sliding his fingertips carefully behind her back. She’s warm, her onesie soft. “Can dad have a kiss?” 
Jane is a quiet baby. It’s normal that she might not start speaking for a few more months, but beside the occasional ‘bababa’ or giggly laugh, she doesn’t have much to say —not unlike her father. Her communication lays instead in affection. Her emotional intelligence is in the highest percentile, certainly. 
Not that Hotch is prone to bragging. “There’s my smarty,” he hums, pulling her gently into his arms before he stands. She looks at him with equal parts curiosity and annoyance. 
He can guess what she’s thinking. Why is dad picking me up? 
She looks for you with a wobbly lip. 
“It’s okay, it’s okay, can’t dad have some time with you? You’ve favoured your mommy all day.” Hotch brings his free hand to her cheek to stroke it. She loves it, immediately tipping her face into his hand, tickled and huffing as he leans down to kiss her nose. “Please, can I have a kiss?” 
He kisses her cheek. She gives a spitty one back. 
You slink away while she’s distracted and he carries Jane to the kitchen, turning the oven off with one hand, and pushing a chair out with his foot to sit. Jack’s eyes brighten with her arrival, colouring pencils pushed aside. “Hi, Janie.” 
Jack waves at her. She waves back. 
He shifts Jane further into his arms to press lazy kisses over her ear. “My baby,” he murmurs, nearly inaudible against the hum of the washing machine in the utility room and the gentle patter of rain on the windows. “She’s my smart girl. Just like her brother.” He strokes her head back to see her and her baby-lashes. “Hm? You’re my smart girl, aren’t you?” 
She tucks herself into the curve of his neck.
“She knows how to wave already,” Jack says, “when will she be able to say my name?” 
“Pretty soon, bud. Babies tend to learn things in little jumps. She’s making sounds, the babbling she does? That’s a stepping stone. Next she’ll say mama, and then mom, and then we can teach her all sorts of words.” 
“Like crawling to walking.” 
Hotch smiles as Jane leans back against his hand. “Exactly. Jane isn’t the only smarty-pants, huh?” 
Jack smiles in return. “You look happy.” 
“I am happy. So happy, because I’m so lucky to be your dad.” 
“Is it weird?” 
“What?” 
Jack shrugs. “Being a dad.” 
“No, it’s never weird. Sometimes weird stuff happens. Like when we all panicked thinking we couldn’t fine Jane just to realise I was holding her,” —Jack giggles ferociously at the memory— “and, you know, sometimes things get pretty gross.” 
“Like spit up.” 
“Exactly. But being your dad isn’t weird. It feels like the most natural thing in the world. I’m lucky…” He kisses Jane again indulgently. “To have ended up with another child as perfect as the first.” 
“Dad,” Jack says, squirming and pleased at once. 
“What?” Hotch laughs. He has spent a long time proving to Jack that he’s not as serious as he was, a long time trying to keep his promise, and he can see now that it worked. Jack shakes his head and goes back to his colouring as a smile apples his cheeks, not for a moment surprised that his dad loves him without hesitation. 
Hotch beams to himself, absolutely full to the top with love as he lifts Jane up just enough to make her smile too. “Oh, nummy!” he says, taking a big pretend bite of her belly. 
You take a long, long time in the bath. He ends up serving Jack’s plate when his son hints that he’s hungry, and giving Jane another couple of ounces of milk. She grows sleepy on his shoulder. With some soft taps to her spine and a handful of loving shushes, she falls asleep there. 
Sentimental, he thinks, Aw, my girl, and begins to rub her little foot through her onesie. 
You find him standing in the kitchen, hip to the counter. He’s not doing anything besides holding Jane, Jack’s plate abandoned at the table and his cartoons playing from the living room. Hotch should’ve put Jane down for a nap in the bassinet in the living room, freeing his hands to tackle the mess of dishes he’s made preparing dinner, but he honestly hadn’t thought about moving. He’d been perfectly content to hold her and rub her wiggling foot. 
“Sorry I took so long,” you whisper. 
“No, no, you take as long as you need. You look better.” 
You ease between Hotch and the counter, situating yourself in a snug corner to see Jane’s face more clearly. You look at her with love, and then you lean up to kiss his cheek. “I knew you’d get her to nap. You’re amazing.” 
“She likes all the same stuff as you and Jack,” Hotch whispers with a soft laugh.
You pause for a second. Careful, you bring your hand to his cheek, a gentle fist turned with knuckles inward as you stroke his cheek with your index finger. “Can I take a photo of you?” 
“What for?” he asks. 
“I wanna remember it. And it’ll be nice one day to show Jane.” 
“To show her what?” 
“You, Aaron. Show her how much you love her.” You drop your hand to his shoulder for a squeeze. “You’ve gotten even kinder since she was born. Did you notice?” 
It seems you’re feeling sentimental as well tonight. Your long bath has washed away the stress of a longer day. 
“Okay,” he says, too in love with your smile to disagree, “but just one.” 
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trailerpark!rafe wakes up with one thing on his mind and it’s not what you are baking. 💦🍯 dirty sex below
Your pretty little self loved to bake and that didn’t stop even when you were over at Rafe’s. He had just woken up, tall body stretching as he lifted himself off the worn mattress. His nose caught a whiff of something sweet, his heavy footsteps carrying him through the creaky trailer and towards the small kitchen. You were quite the sight to take in, standing by the oven as your pretty eyes surveyed the pan you had just taken out by the looks of it. In nothing but a little pink nightgown with the fat of your ass hanging out and nipples poking through the thin material, had his mouth watering for something else sweet.
“Whatcha doing up so early, sugar?” His raspy voice vibrated through the kitchen as you began mixing the icing together. You got a little startled as when you were baking you were in your own world. You were of course happy he was awake though, bouncing on your feet to face him. “Making cinnamon rolls.” You told him, his large hands coming to roughly squeeze your waist.
His blue eyes looked over at the stove, before glancing down at you and raking across your body that looked tiny in comparison to his. “Cinnamon rolls, huh? You always gotta make somethin’ sweet for me. Don’t you?” He asked, voice low as he brought one of his hands up to grip your chin firmly.
You didn’t hesitate to nod, eyes wide and lashes long as they blinked up at your favorite person. Rafe let out a throaty laugh, his thumb coming up to rest against your pouty bottom lip. “I’m gonna do somethin’. Yeah? And don’t start worrying’ about those cinnamon rolls you made either.” He rasped out, watching your pretty face frown.
He moved your bowl of icing to the side, your little protest about it being cut short as he lifted you up onto the counter. He pulled you further down, his massive hand yanking your tits out of the nightgown and bunching it around your waist to see your perfect cunt. “Shit… pussy is beggin’ to be fuckin’ touched.” He laughed, his thumb coming out to rub your sweet pearl in circles. He loved watching you shudder, not knowing what to do as you were still new to all of these dirty things. He smirked, leaning down to bury his pert nose against your clit and shove tongue in your hole.
He was addicted, your cunt like a drug to him as he slurped your sweet sugar up. He couldn’t get enough, blunt nails digging into your fleshy thighs as he ate you like the poor starved man he was. Your sweet whines above only making him want more. He didn’t give a damn how messy he got either, moving his head back and forth as he buried his tongue even further to make you squeal.
His heavy blue eyes watched as you looked down him, your tits swaying as you breathed heavily from pleasure. He pulled back, sliding a thick digit in which you automatically clenched around. “That’s my good little fuckdoll.” He murmured, his free hand coming up to slap your tits. “I’m about to fuckin’ pound your pretty cunt sweet baby.”
His facial hair was sticky with your juices, tickling your neck as his thick cock rammed into you. He let out a breathy groan against your soft skin, the hard smacks of his thrusts echoing off the trailer walls. You were a babbling mess, his big dick stretching your drenched hole and his words growing dirtier.
He pulled away from your neck, both his large hands coming on either side of your head to hold it in place. His piercing eyes bored into you, making your corrupted little brain spin. “Fuck, how’d I get so lucky? Baking me treats and shit. Cleaning up this shithole of a place for me. Gettin’ to breed you with my little trailer park babies.” He said, making your eyes roll back as that funny feeling was growing more in your tummy. Especially the way held you and place, making you take his monster dick and hear his dirty words.
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18+ hoes
I love nervous Eddie. You’re on top of him fooling around, bodies grinding together as his tongue dances with yours. An unexpected rendezvous with your weed dealer.
Little whimpers escape his pretty lips as you press your body against his even tighter. You can feel his cock hard beneath you making you smile before pulling away from his kiss. His cheeks are flushed a bright red, his mouth parted slightly as he struggles to catch his breath.
The fact that he’s an entire mess from a make out session and some dry humping makes you even more turned on. Every part of you aching to pull every desperate noise you can from him. You lock eyes with him as you begin inching backwards on the bed, your lips now moving down across his tatted chest.
His big brown eyes widen as you reach the top of his green plaid boxers peeking out beneath his dark jeans. “May I?” you smirk up at him running your finger along the elastic, trying to keep your composure as you see the full outline of his thick cock begging to be freed.
“Y-yes. Fuck yes. Please.” Eddie breathes, leaning up to rest on his elbows, gaining a better view as you slowly work to get his jeans off.
His cock springs free, slapping hard against his toned stomach. Fuck, he’s big. You smile up at him watching him intently as you wrap your fingers around his dick, pulling it closer to your lips.
His dark eyes flick between your face and your hand as you begin slowly stroking him. Every little noise slipping past his lips is like music to your ears. You hold out your palm, spitting onto it before taking him back in your hand.
The saliva creates a filthy noise as you jerk his cock faster and faster, twisting your hand as you work him effortlessly. “Ohh fuck.” Eddie murmurs, his eyelids fluttering, already losing control before your mouth has even touched him.
You knew he wouldn’t last long. You could tell by the way his stomach was tightening with every movement. His chest rising and falling quicker each time.
You take your tongue, delicately licking his tip, the taste of him making your pussy throb. A pathetic noise comes from Eddie as you wrap your lips around the head of his thick cock, sucking softly.
“I’m- fucking hell..” Eddie trails off, his head falling back against his pillow. You loved how needy he was. How desperate he looked. You felt like you could hear inside his brain. ‘Don’t cum yet. Don’t cum yet.’ It only made you want to make him cum faster.
You swirl your tongue around his cock as you begin to bob your head, taking him deeper and deeper into your mouth. “Oh my god. F-fuck. More. Please fuck.” Eddie begs you, his tone a mixture of desperation and pure lust.
You grip his thighs, your nails digging into his soft skin as you take him all the way into your throat. Gagging and choking as your eyes fill with tears, giving him everything you have with no hesitation.
“Jesus fuck. Feels so fucking good. M’ not gonna last. Not gonna-” his mumbling is replaced with a strangled moan just as his hands meet the top of your head holding you in place as you feel his dick twitching.
You peek up at him watching his plump lips fall open with a gasp as his cum coats the back of your throat. His back arches slightly off the bed as you swallow every bit of his seed. When you’re sure he’s done, you suck all the way back to the tip, taking your time, purposefully making him whimper as you tease his sensitive head.
You can’t help but wonder how pathetic he’d be if you actually fucked him. And you couldn’t wait to find out.
*I haven’t written anything in months so I’m sorry if this sucks but ily and I’m trying to get my brain working 😘
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nastybuckybarnes · 3 days
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Date Night
Pairing: dbf!Bucky X Reader
Summary: Bucky makes a big mistake.
Warnings: Angst, Language, yea sorry
Word Count: 1.7K
A/n: teehee whoops. im gonna have a ghost one coming out soon for you guys, and then maybe some more teddy bear picnic but we'll see
~*~
"Hey kid, wanna grab a beer and watch the game with your old man? Or are you too cool for that?"
You grin at your dad and slow your steps, glancing at the hockey game on TV.
"Where's Bucky? I thought he was your game night date? He finally realize hockey sucks?"
Your dad gives you an offended look then rolls his eyes playfully.
"Nah, he had to cancel last minute - he's got a hot date tonight."
He wiggles his eyebrows at you, unaware of the fact that those six words have flipped your night upside down and caused knots to form in your stomach.
You don't remember having plans with him tonight.
As casually as you can manage, you head into the kitchen, pulling out your phone and tapping a quick text over to the man in question.
'Not coming over tonight?'
It's read within the same minute, and then the telltale three dots pop up before his message spawns.
'Sorry baby, not feeling too hot.'
The knots in your gut are quickly crushed by the boulder that settles there, and you need to take a few careful breaths to stop yourself from crying in the middle of the kitchen.
~*~
"Everything okay, James?"
He huffs out a sigh and glances up from his phone, smiling weakly at the woman across from him.
"Listen, Dot... I can't tell you how grateful I am that you managed to make such a beautiful cake in such a short amount of time. And, while I'm flattered that you'd want to go out for dinner, I had you make that cake for a woman who means... quite a bit to me. I don't want to make things awkward but I do want you to know that I'm out with you tonight as a friend and nothing more."
The woman across from him blinks blankly a few times, then takes a sip of her martini, stands up, and leaves the table.
Bucky watches helplessly as she leaves the restaurant without another word, dropping his head back for a moment as he feels onlookers stare.
It takes a few minutes for the waitress to come back, but by the time she does, he's got a wad of cash ready for her and his keys in hand.
He all but runs out of the restaurant, a new lightness in his shoulders like a weight has been lifted from his chest.
Immediately, he grabs his phone and shoots a quick text off to your dad.
'Room for one more?'
It takes a few minutes for your dad to respond, which Bucky uses to put on his helmet and straddle his bike.
'Date not going well?'
Bucky chuckles softly.
'Something like that. I'll be there in five.'
He swipes out of the conversation with your dad and then clicks on the only pinned conversation on his phone.
'I'm feeling a bit better now, gonna pop by for a bit.'
With that, he locks his phone and brings his bike to life, eager to be in your presence again.
Your phone vibrates, pulling you from your pity party, and you frown at the text on it.
You turn your phone off and drop it face-down on the carpet, ignoring this text the way you've ignored the last three from him.
You can hear him downstairs chatting with your dad as if he's done nothing wrong. As if he wasn't out with another woman less than an hour ago.
Grinding your teeth together, you decide that enough is enough, and it's time for bed.
At the very moment you open your door to head to the bathroom to get ready for bed, Bucky decides to raise his fist to knock.
Your eyes meet his and, for a moment, you forget that you're mad. You forget everything.
And then he opens his stupid mouth.
"Hey, what's with you tonight?" He asks gently, reaching forward to grab your hand.
You yank away from him and take a step back, levelling him with a steely glare.
"How was your date?"
You watch as he deflates, as his face falls and his shoulders slump forward the tiniest bit.
"Sweetheart, it's not what you think, I swear."
"Oh Jesus Christ," you murmur, pushing past him and heading downstairs to watch the game with your dad. At least down here he can't talk to you.
He can't try to justify him willingly going on a date with another woman.
Well, not until the game's over, at least. And it seems like it's only a few minutes before your dad is yawning, turning the TV off and heading upstairs to go to bed himself.
This leaves you alone in the living room with Bucky, tension building with every silent second that passes between the two of you.
"Honey, I had to," he finally whispers, breaking the silence.
You whip your head around, mouth dropping open in disbelief.
"Excuse me?"
He holds his hands up, a desperate and pathetic attempt at pleading with you, begging you to hear him out.
"It was the only way for me to get your birthday cake. Dot is an old friend from high school and... she wanted a date as payment for the last-minute cake," he explains quietly.
You purse your lips, nodding as if it all makes sense now.
"Oh, I see! So, not only do you admit to forgetting my birthday, but you also agreed to go on a date with a woman who has had a thing for you since high school! Buck, that is so not okay on so many different levels!" You exclaim in a whisper.
The last thing you need is your dad overhearing any part of this conversation.
"I know. That's why I left. I told her I couldn't, that the cake was for someone important to me and that I was only having dinner with her as a friend."
You shake your head at him and rise to your feet, unable to stay still while he spews nothing but nonsense at you and expects you to forgive him.
"You shouldn't have even gotten me that cake if that's what she wanted as payment! You should've told her to stick it and then you literally could've gotten me a Starbucks cake pop. I don't need fancy cakes or expensive things, James, I thought you knew that." Your voice gradually loses its anger, disappointment and exhaustion taking its place.
"I know but... I wanted to do something special for you." He looks like a kicked puppy, and it takes a serious amount of self-control to hold on to your anger.
"My birthday was special. Even without the cake it still would've been special. Especially if I'd've known it would mean that you would be going on a date with another woman in order to get it."
"Sweetheart, I'm sorry," he pleads, reaching for you again only for you to shake your head and step away.
"No, Bucky. Sorry doesn't fix this. Can you imagine if the roles were reversed? What if I had to go on a date with a guy who's been wanting me for over a decade just for the perfect steak? And then, what if I lied to you about it and you found out from my dad that I was out on a 'hot date'? A date with someone that the general public would deem more appropriate for me to be with? Someone who would fit me better. How would that make you feel?"
He stands there silently for a moment, fists clenched tightly as he imagines everything you just said.
He imagines you laughing on a date with another man, a young man, a man far more appropriate for you to be with. He imagines sitting waiting for you, only to find out that you're out getting hit on by some young punk who wouldn't know how to please a woman like you. His imagination runs wild, to the point where he can almost feel steam billowing from his ears, but all he says is
"Shitty."
"Shitty?" You laugh, "Try worthless. Embarrassed. Humiliated. At least that's how I felt. And-and maybe I'm just reading too deep into this. Maybe this 'exclusivity' that I thought we had is one-sided."
"It's not," he interrupts quickly, taking a step forward only to pause when you step back again.
"Maybe I just thought things were more serious than they were," you continue, eyes stuck on the ground as your thoughts spill out before your mind has a moment to realize what you're saying.
"They are serious-"
"Maybe we should just stop... whatever this is that we're doing."
Silence hangs heavily in the air when you finish speaking, and you feel tears sting at your eyes when he says nothing.
You count thirteen heartbeats before he finally says something.
"Is that what you really want?" He asks softly, his voice discouraged.
Slowly, you raise your eyes to his.
"What even are we?" You ask breathlessly, a single tear sliding down your cheek. "What are we doing?"
"You're my girl."
You sniffle and shake your head.
"No, I'm your dirty little secret, that's what I am. And I'm tired of it. I wanna be something you're proud of, not something you have to hide," you whisper, your chest aching with the weight of your confession.
Bucky's heart breaks at your words, and he wants nothing more than to scoop you up in his arms and kiss away any insecurities you have in your relationship. If you can even call it that.
"I am proud of you, sweetheart, beyond proud. I can't even put into words how I feel about you," he whispers, desperate for you to understand just how much you mean to him.
"Why haven't you told my dad about us yet?"
The silence that follows your question is answer enough for you, and you nod.
"I... I think you should leave," you finally whisper, hugging yourself and keeping your gaze locked on the ground.
He stays rooted in place for a long moment, testing your resolve, waiting for you to break. When you don't, he takes slow steps toward the door, waiting, praying for you to change your mind.
But you stand firm.
Never able to deny you, he leaves you standing alone in your kitchen, your dad peacefully asleep upstairs while your entire life gets turned upside down.
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sugutiva · 1 day
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❝ THAT P ★ SSY GOT POWER ! ❞ — g. satoru
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ᥫ᭡ synopsis : for some reason . . . the strongest sorcerer in the world ( purposely ) got struck by a lust curse.
tags : smut, p in v, oral sex ( f! receiving ), enemies to lovers (?), reader folds quickly LMAO, gojo eats us out against the wall . . . again, hair pulling, pussy spanking, overstimulation, teasing, cowgirl, switch!gojo, slight orgasm denial, creampie, cursing, dirty talk, all lowercase intended, not proofread !
a/n : if this flops again tumblr is RACIST.
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“ we need you to go talk to gojo satoru, and convince him to come back to jujutsu high.”
oh. so he’s the reason why you’re attending a meeting even though it’s your off day.
your face twists into an expression of displeasure, not only from the burdensome demand of gakuganji and possibly the other higher ups, but from the sound of his gravelly voice ringing throughout the spacious room. nonetheless, you bite your tongue. “ seriously, me? why would i ever do something like that?”
it’s extremely rare as a sorcerer to catch a simple day off, and the fact that you were called in to fetch a man-child to come back to his responsibilities was . . . aggravating. to say the least.
gakuganji continues, “ his disappearance has already gone on further than we’d like,” he takes a pause to lift his head slightly, looking you dead in the eyes. “ so seeing how you’re the only free adult, we chose you to go fetch for him.”
you cross your arms and legs before leaning back in the couch. as he explains in more detail on how there’s an increase of curses, and how no one's teaching the second and first years, ( not like they’d mind ) you start to feel a twinge of sympathy.
sure, you and gojo don’t see eye to eye sometimes, but it was unusual for him to go missing all of a sudden and leave everything behind. ( although he’d eerily fantasize about killing the higher ups whenever he was provoked enough ) you uncross your body before standing up from the couch swiftly.
“ i’ll check on him. but i wouldn’t guarantee a return from him,”
“ great choice, [last name].”
- -
all for jujutsu high and humanity.
giving three loud knocks to his door, you wait, and get no answer in response. “ gojo satoru, can you open up already?” you yell, surely loud enough for him to at least crack the door open. still, you get no answer from the other side.
just as you were casually mapping the outside of his house for an easy way to get inside, the door swiftly opens. there stood the man in question in all of his glory; he wore grey baggy sweats— and it seemed like no boxers underneath because of how his white happy trail seductively peeked out from underneath while the print of his cock was hardly concealed. the upper half of his toned body shined in a coat of sweat while he leaned his upper body against the door frame.
was he exercising. . . or maybe doing something else?
“ you just gonna stare at me after almost breaking my door off it’s hinges?”
shit. he caught you practically gawking at him.
“ i— um. we need to talk,” you gulp, feeling more nervous compared to any other time you’ve talked to him before. “ you‘ve been playing hooky for quite too long now and the higher ups are on my ass about it.”
he stares at you unfazed, you stare back.
but to your surprise, instead of slamming the door in your face and hiding away for longer, he shifts his body over, enough for you to come inside.
“ geez. those hags don’t ever know when to fall back.” he dramatically groans as you hesitantly step in to take your shoes off before walking in further.
vaguely, you swear you felt the weight of his eyes tracing your figure as you walk into his apartment, heading to his living room. you choose to brush it off.
inside it’s modern and creepily bare, like there’s no one actually existing in here— including this alluring scent. it’s not bad but it is heavy, as if a burdensome weight is on your shoulders. definitely musk but the strong scent of cinnamon is also within the mix. again, you brush it off while sinking down into the couch cushions, too late to turn back now.
gojo walks in later than you, and instead of sitting across from you— he plops right next to you, sluggishly resting his long arms on the back of the couch while manspreading, his freakishly lengthy legs invades the little space you have. your face contorts into an expression of outwardly discomfort. “ why’re you sitting right next to me, gojo?”
“ you rudely wake me up by pounding on my door, and now i can’t sit where i want in my living room?” he blows out a breath of air while rolling his eyes with a level of sass that makes you cringe slightly. “ girl. you really don’t have any manners at all. not like that’s a surprise tho—“
” please, let’s just focus on the reason why i came here.” you curtly cut him off, barely refraining yourself from slapping him in the head now that his infinity was off.
you knew he wouldn’t listen in the first place, so the sight of his head hanging off the couch while his leg rocked up and down rhythmically like this was the most boring lecture he had to sit through shouldn’t really piss you off— but it does. you let out an exhausted groan while rubbing your temples to soothe your growing headache. you really wish you hadn’t picked up the phone today. “ do you even care about the effect your disappearance has caused right now? you really are a careless manchi—“
“ i need to fuck you.” he bluntly states.
what? you couldn’t had possibly heard that right.
“ i-i’m sorry?”
he shifts, his body is now upright, contrasting his previous lazy posture. “ you want to know why i’ve been gone?” he waits for you to nod, which you do. “ i got struck by some sort of lust curse, so in order for it to go away, we need to fuck.” you don’t get a chance to fully register his words before his lips are on yours.
you feel him sigh into your mouth, as if you two making out on his couch relieved him from all his frustrations. you can’t deny that you’re into it like how he is, especially when he rolls his raging bulge into the inside of your thigh so desperately— but this isn’t the reason why you came here. obviously gojo thinks otherwise.
“ g-gojo! we can’t,” your voice trembles, and so does your body as you push the white haired man away from you. when he looks back in your eyes, you immediately notice that there’s truly something wrong. his pupils are wildly dilated— to the point where you can barely see his signature blue.
the intensity of his gaze freezes you in place. but you can’t shake off the feeling of being lured in.
almost like he’s hypnotizing you.
“ says who, baby?” his hand creeps down to the waist band of your pants, he tugs on your panties, only letting them go so they can soundly snap back against your skin, making your hips jolt in his grasp. “ don’t deny it now. i bet ya’ she’s gonna be leaking f’me.” the palm of his hand grinds down on your clothed mound.
this time, you’re the one to pull him into a heated kiss, and he matches your energy fully. your nails scratches at his undercut, forcing a needy moan to leave his chest and wander into your awaiting mouth. the kiss is so intense that you don’t realize that he’s taken off your pants along with your underwear until your bare skin touches around his while he carries you into his bedroom.
he presses your back to the wall only to hike you up further on the wall— the way how you’re positioned is that you’re currently using him as your own chair.
“ you do the most. are you really going to eat me out against a wall?” you tut, knowing that you’re not actually against the idea. your question isn’t answered with words, but when he presses moist kisses leading from your thigh to your soaked cunt, you think you have a inkling of the answer.
he blows on your erect clit before focusing his attention on your flustered face. “ for someone who was pushing me away . . . you sure are soaked.” your mouth opens, most likely with a bratty response. although it’s quickly forgotten when he presses a spit filled peck on your clit. there’s a line of spit that connects him to your cunt as he pulls away. “ ‘m not tryna embarrass you. just find it quite adorable.”
“ w-will you ever just shut up, and eat me out? i’m sick of hearin’ your mouth, gojo.” you murmur, watching as his grin grows impossibly wider— the bastard is riling you up on purpose just for his twisted entertainment. there will be a time later on tonight where you’ll get him back for that.
but for now, you need to feel his tongue mapping out every inch of your pussy.
he huskily chuckles, you want to ignore the effect that the sound does to you. “ heh. i got you baby,” with that, he rolls his tongue out on your heat, licking a fat stripe of spit in the direction to your pulsing clit. your body shudders as you finally get what you desire; your sworn enemy eating you out while your figure is trapped between him and a wall.
and oh is he nasty with it.
“ s-shit— you’re doing s’gooood, satoru!” you lewdly whine out, the knuckles of your hands turn a shade brighter than your skin as you tug on his pristine hair. moving away from your clit, he focuses on sloppily flicking your opening with his tongue. “ satooooru!”
for this being your first time hooking up together, gojo is uncannily skilled at fucking you dumb with only his tongue. it makes you yearn for what else he can do to you next.
gojo pulls back from your cunt, the lower half of chin is alluringly coated with your juices and his saliva. “ damn. she tastes too fuckin’ good. and why have you been keeping this away from me for so long?” he mutters to himself rather than you. his hand comes down on your cunt as a harsh smack, he delivers another and another before waiting for your reaction. when more slick dribbles out your hole, sliding down to your ass, it makes him want to go beyond feral.
“ looks like i’ve got myself a masochistic slut, heh.” no more is said as his mouth resumes back on your pussy, throwing you back into that wave of euphoria. the muscles in your thighs twitch, drawing him closer to your syrupy madness.
satoru moans, his hips bucks up on the wall as if to find some friction while splitting you down with that wonderful tongue. your toes are curled, back lifting from off the wall and every strangled moan you yell makes him thrust his tongue faster, along with his hips— the distant pleasure coming from fucking the wall is not near enough to make him cum, not that he’s worried about that, as your hypnotic taste is making him shamefully pussydrunk.
“ oh. ooooh, ‘m so close, you’re gonna make me cum!” you pant out while instinctively clamping your walls around his tongue shoving itself in. he’s more determined than ever, messily tongue fucking you while kneading your ass in his big hands. how he manages to hold you up by your ass only, it’s still a wonder.
your hips have a mind of their own as they grind down for your sweet release, and at this rate you don’t know if your pulling him away or closer to you. but when he hollowly sucks at your empty hole, that triggers your powerful orgasm.
“ d-don’t stooop! i’m cumming!” your eyes clamp shut as you throw your head back before bursting out into trembles. satoru continues to listen to your earlier words. he delivers kitten licks onto your clit just begging for his attention. “ satoru— i’m too sensitive,”
he doesn’t care to listen.
finally, he comes up from the spot between your thighs as your recovering from yet another messy orgasm. “ okay messy girl, as much as i love eating you out— i think you should show me some attention too.”
wordlessly, he carries your limp body over to his bed— in the traditional bridal carry this time. you think it’s somewhat romantic, but of course gojo has to ruin it by chucking you on piece of furniture, making you meet his incredibly soft duvets face first. “ the fuck?” you gain composure by lifting yourself on your hands and knees, looking back to throw him the nastiest glare you could muster. “ i swear at this point you’re getting no pussy, gojo.”
he pays your words no mind. as he pulls his pants down, his cock uncontrolledly springs free from it’s restraint. fuck, it was so big and pretty. the sheer length will no doubtfully have you feeling over cockdrunk, his tip flushes an angry red that makes your mouth water.
“ what about not getting any pussy?” he cheekily mocks you, stroking the head of his cock to smear the pearly pre-cum down his length.
“ shut the fuck up and get on the bed.” you whine, struggling by the second to keep up your bratty facade. the sound of the bed dipping under his body weight makes you flip over on your elbows and spread your legs wide for his gaze.
complying, he still rolls his eyes and clicks his tongue. “ geez. okay daddy,” his hands grabs you by the thighs and yanks you on your back completely. he presses the slit of his head against your clit, watching with delight as your folds compliments each side of his cock like a lewd hotdog. “ yer’ so mouthy but that’s expected, gonna have to fix that little problem though.”
“ i’m the mouthy one? that’s real fuckin’ funny coming from the one who cannot shut up for one second to save his life.” you bitterly cackle, although your voice comes out shaken from the audible clicks of your pussy getting played with. when he slightly dips into the warmth of your opening before trailing upwards to your clit again, you resist the urge to strangle him. “ — if you’re teasing me, i’m going to hurt you.”
he rolls his eyes unenthusiastically at the cold stare you give him from underneath your full eyelashes. “ tsk. you’re no fun, baby.” with one swift movement, he’s sinking into your gummy walls with a relieved groan.
maybe, because of the high side effects of the lust curse running it’s course is the reason why satoru finds himself cumming too early with not even a full pump.
and it’s a lot.
“ s-shiiiit— that was t-too early, can’t s-stop!” his body bursts into violent trembles— mimicking your own previously. hot ropes of cum taints your walls with the sensation of his cum while his hands grab at your thighs with a death grip that will for sure leave bruises later, having you sore for days. you think it’s rather endearing how vulnerable he looks.
gojo was just— if not more, surprised than you were.
it feels like forever when he finally comes down from his high, and you feel out of breath just watching him. “ that . . . that was not supposed to h-happen.” he weakly mutters, his head hanging down from embarrassment. somwhat, you’re prideful knowing that only you had him feeling like this.
“ ‘nd all that big talk just for you to be a one pump champ,” now, it’s his turn to weakly glare at you, “ think you can still fuck me? or do i have to ride you?” you grab a fistful of his hair before tugging his face close, to the point where your breath fans over his open, panting mouth. the pain from your dominant actions shoots through his veins and to his sensitive cock, resulting in it twitching greedily in your tense walls. “ am i talking to myself, satoru?”
“ fuck— n-no.”
you smirk, and to satoru you look exceedingly sexy and evil; a deadly combo. “ my good boy,” you peck his lips, letting the grip you have of his hair go so he can pull out of you. when he does, copious amounts of cum immediately pours from your quivering hole in a thick, flowing motions with a loud popping sound to accompany. with just one load he’s managed to stuff you full.
he flips over while hugging your body close to his. relaxing his figure, he watches as you aligned yourself against him, your shirt long gone by now, and your body is beautifully presented to him with the marks he inflicted upon the free reign of skin.
you could tell he wanted you just as much as you wanted him.
“ don’t— don’t think about teasing me now, not when i need you this m-much.” he briefly forgets how to breath as your sticky folds rubs against the head of his cock, drowning in more cum until it reaches his base.
“ oh, you don’t like your own game being played on you?” you grunt, rolling your hips sensually down. his adam’s apple bobs as swallows his growing anticipation he can barely contain. but after a few dragged out moments of teasing, resulting in you feeling torturously edged as well— you finally sink down on him. “ fuuuck . . .” you whisper to yourself.
you lips tremor as you pause, allowing yourself to being properly stretched out as your pussy invites in as much as possible. this isn’t the first time you’ve had sex with someone, but the hefty length of satoru makes you pause before going on. when the dull stinging pain shifts to that familiar mouth watering pleasure, you find your pace. satoru hands fly out to grip the sheets with faux serenity as your pussy continues to clamp around him like a vice grip.
“ haaah, you just couldn’t w-wait to fuck yourself silly on my cock, huh?” his voice is eerily clear, as if he wasn’t a overstimulated mess from his previous release. you make fiery eye contact with him, the way how his eyes are hazed but still feel so heavy on your body makes you almost go numb. “ this is everything i needed baby, shit!”
“ that mouth never knows when to s-shut up.” you mutter out, before the action of you bouncing up and down on his lap increases viciously. the sinful sounds of your skin clashing down against his, every inch of him knocking on your sweet spot, and both of your sweet moans combined together sounded like an erotic song that gojo would never get tired of hearing. “ sa— mmph, satoruu!” gojo has the most cockiest but pathetic expression right now; his brows are furrowed while he shamelessly watched you recoil your body against his.
“ i . . . i think ‘m close, keep on rocking your hips like that— fuck, you’re so sexy!” his tip spasms in your tight space as a warning as of what’s about to come.
but suddenly, you stop moving. edging him on with a cheeky smirk.
you cut him off before he can talk, “ we can’t have you cumming just yet ‘toru.” he’s surprised he didn’t bust right then and there when you said his nickname in that sultry tone. you give him a vigorous show by rubbing two fingers on your pearl for his view.
“ such’a needy slut playing with her pussy f’me.” he bites his lip as he watches your clit swirl under your ministrations, his orgasm is on the back burner of his mind while he watches you. “ roll it just like that— there ya fuckin’ go, babe.”
once you feel your pleasure heighten inevitably, you resume back to bouncing on gojo. this time, with your hand advancing rapidly on your clit, and his calloused hands squeezing your ass heart fully. he effortlessly looks attractive underneath you, his chest and neck are flushed a sweaty mess as strands of his white hair sticks to his damp skin around his forehead.
“ wan’a cum with you, toru.” you lean over to nip his throat, your pussy contracts when you feel his breath hitch. “ want to feel you s-stuff me full, pleaseee fuck!”
it’s unintentional, but your whiny voice alone drags him into a powerful orgasm.
it’s not long before you follow suit.
“ my nasty good girl,” his voice comes out as an harsh whisper before he grabs your hair to tug you closer to his face. the kiss you share together is no short of animalistic; it’s all teeth with tongue, and when you pull away your lip is bleeding, tainting his own an alluring deep shade of red.
you force your hips to continue rocking against him due to the frenzy. increased squelches resonates through the fuzzy room along with your combined moans. you feel sparks of electricity shoot through your limbs, your cunt squeezes more slick out, creating a translucent ring around the hefty base of his cock.
there must be something in the air, seeing how many orgasms you pull out of each other.
for some reason . . . the strongest sorcerer in the world got struck by a lust curse.
and you’re able to bring him back a day later, with just your pussy alone.
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dollniu · 1 day
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lets talk abt kinks ! — JJK MEN
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SYNOPSIS — kinks i think jjk men secretly have…
PAIRINGS — toji x f!reader, sukuna x f!reader, gojo x f!reader, ino x f!reader, higuruma x f!reader
CONTENT — biting and hickeys, blood play, teasing, humiliation, overstimulation, 69, begging, orgasm control, masochism
OTHER — MNDI 🔞
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TOJI — biting and marks
toji shows ZERO mercy when it comes to marking you as his own. while he’s fucking u, he loves biting on your neck and leaving trails of bite marks across your skin that don’t go away for at least a week. whether he’s fucking you from the back or the front, he’s sucking on some part of your body. he loves hearing the the soft moans you make when he bites you which only makes him bite harder, it’s like music to his ears. just using his mouth all over you while he’s throbbing inside you, licking and sucking and kissing, etc. he knows ALL of ur sensitive parts and loves sucking on your sweet spot while ur riding him and the reactions you make when he bites you only makes him go rougher. also the fact that literally everyone can see the work of art he’s made on your neck, bite marks and hickeys (even in places only you two can see 💋) “you’re fucking mine.”
SUKUNA — blood play
sukuna is a mf sadist. he absolutely loves it when you’re at his complete disposal and a little toy he can inflict his cruel desires onto. and there’s nothing he loves more than leaving cuts on your body that leak with sweet crimson liquid. scratching at ur thighs or stomach, anywhere he desires with his sharp nails and watching the blood drip from your tits to your stomach only for him to lick it all up, savoring the taste of you. and the way you arch your back in pain and pleasure drives him crazy, watching you bleed as he fucks you harder and rougher. and the thing he loves most is biting into your neck with his sharp fangs, drinking the blood while he’s pounding inside you. drinking the blood and hearing you squeal in pain from the sudden impact only makes him bite deeper. “your sweet blood is mine, doll. let me taste every last drop of you on my tongue.”
GOJO — teasing/humilation
no matter where you guys are, gojo always finds a way to tease you. whether it’s whispering in your ear how much he wants to be inside you or touching you in the places you’re most sensitive, he just loves seeing you squirm as your face turns beat red. especially at the worst times— at meetings he’ll playfully put his hand in ur inner thigh, inching towards your core just to see that delicious flushed look on your face. he can’t contain himself when he sees you like that, a horny squirming mess. and during sex it’s even better, he’d make you strip down in front of him with his eyes glued onto your body, licking his lips while staring at the flustered mess he created. gojo is the type of guy to make direct eye contact while he’s fucking you. you’ll turn away in embarrassment but he’ll just grab your humiliated face and force you to stare into his eyes while he’s pounding you. it drives him crazy when he sees you squirming underneath him, letting out loud moans that you try to hold in, covering your mouth. but in return, he fucks you harder, rougher, just to hear those sweet noises come out. “come on, you like being like this.. don’t you? my little slut.”
INO — overstimulation
whether it’s you or him, ino loves overstimulation. feeling everything at once, it’s too much to handle but it feels so good. he loves seeing you squirm as he fingers you, making your legs shake after coming for the third time. you tell him to stop, pushing ino away but he knows damn well you want more and he fucking loves it. but whether you’re riding him, giving him a blowjob, or a handjob, he’s gonna be begging for you to keep going. tears flow from his wet eyes, staring up at you bounce on his dick, begging to let him cum. orgasm after orgasm, he wants to come again and again. “p-please! oh fuck- please keep going baby- please l-let me cum!”
HIGURUMA — 69 (duh)
higuruma LOVES EATING PUSSY. this is a known fact, he loves tasting all of you and licking up your sweet juices. and of course, riding his nose is also a factor. you mentioned it once and he absolutely lit up to the idea, looking up and seeing you use him for your personal pleasure made him hard just thinking about it. so when you brought up the idea of 69, you do it every night. sucking his dick while pleasuring his girl was absolute heaven for him, eating you out to perfection while getting a blowjob was just what this overworked man needs after a long day at work! just eating your pussy is enough, but feeling you swallow his dick while he plays with ur clit with his tongue felt heavenly. “god.. you taste so fucking good.. please.. mphm.. keep going.”
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soggyriceee · 2 days
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being a stripper wasn’t something you had enjoyed. you didn’t enjoy having a 5 year old at home, wondering why your best friend is home to babysit more than you are. you didn’t enjoy selling your body for a couple hindered bucks. but it was what made you money, made you be able to afford a roof over your sons head, school clothes and supplies, food.
you didn’t enjoy being knocked up at the early age of 18. the father of course fleeing, neglecting any and all contact with you or your family.
but what you did enjoy. was him.
“good evening, scarlet.” he would say softly, always grabbing your hand and placing a kiss on it. his eyes would then run down your frame, taking in how you were wearing the new lingerie he had brought you the previous Sunday night.
“good evening Konig.” you would respond, hiding the smile that crept onto your face. your heart beat for this man. every sunday you expected him, your face lighting up when you’d seen his name booked on your private room list.
every sunday, you’d give him your body. and he’d return the favor with gifts, money. you had opened up to him about your life the first night he had finally booked a private room with you, tired of having to share you with all of other men in the club. this was months ago.
his hands wound grip your waist as he bounced you up and down on him, his eyes hooked to your wet lips, your nose your eyes. he felt brand new with you. like a teenager, it was exhilarating what he felt everytime he’d slide his cock into you.
he loved how he was the only one who got to see you like this. see you so vulnerable so weak beneath him. he loved how that tough , independent women in you disappeared as soon as he touched you.
“let me take care of you.” he would whisper in your ear, feeling his orgasm creeping up on him quickly. “i-i can.. take you away from all of this.”
your eyes would open, looking down at his almost pleading eyes. you’d felt his cock twitch once, then twice inside you. “k-konig don’t come in me.” you’d warn, trying to fight against his tight grip. but you failed miserably.
but for some reason it made you so much wetter.
his hips bucked up into you, his whimpers growing louder as his fingers dug into your skin. “i-i love you… i wanna take care of you,” hed whimper again, “l-let it happen baby lemme take care of you.”
before you could fully comprehend what he had said, his hips would give one final thrust , konig chanting your name softly.
you were slightly in shock with what had just happened. konig and you had strictly avoided this. his come inside you. but what had you even more shocked. was that he said he loved you.
he’d place on last kiss to your lips, then your nose. “i meant it. i love you.. i’m gonna take care of you.” he said.
and then, he’d then turn, grabbing his ring off the glass table and sliding it onto his finger before walking out. that was two weeks ago. and the last time you’d heard from him since
yall i don’t condone cheating at all i just was at work and had this random idea for a little short story PLZ DONT CHEAT ON UR PARTNER😩✋🏽
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k9wa · 2 days
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⟁ 7:14 PM ft BOOTHILL.
⠀ — braiding his hair bc my brain is rotting and i miss him.
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⚠︎ fluff, thats really it, mechanic!reader but its not really relevant, suggestive if you squint and cover one eye and hang upside down. gn reader, wc 860.
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boothill's head was lulled back between a pair of soft, comfy thighs, eyes a content and lazy half lidded as he felt some familiar calloused and precise fingers detangling little pieces of his hair. the sun was almost down past the horizon, and the last few warm rays peeking out left the room hued a gentle orange colour, its two inhabitants bathing in it..��
he felt a slight tug here and there as you worked your magic, taking the knots out of those long white locks with patient fingers.
“you have such pretty hair.”
you mused quietly, combing out another strand with your nails. boothill's lips tugged up lightly in a gentle smirk— a hint of pride washing over him. he was a bigger sucker for praise than he’d ever admit.
“well, it’s gotta look good if it’s gonna match th’rest of me.” he drawled, voice a low rumble filled with a certain ease that rarely surfaced— well, rarely with others, anyway. he received a playful tug of his hair in response.boothill leaned back a bit more, trying to catch a glimpse of your endearing focussed expression.
he was slowly melting against your deft fingertips, silently whirring internals mimicking the quiet purr of a cat as you twirled a piece around your finger. 
“can i braid it?” you asked simply, already sectioning out a few strands at the top. 
“do whatever you want, sugar.” he granted with a little shrug, smirk still playing on his lips. “reckon a braid’ll help keep it from flyin’ into my eyes so much.”
he felt the rhythmic crossing of each strand as you began to braid, every brush of your nails against his scalp sending a pleasant shiver right through his wires.
“y’know,” he opened, voice still that gravely tone you could never get enough of. “ain’t nobody else i’d sit still for like this.” he admitted, brashness taking a backseat to give way to a tenderness reserved for one person only.
“yeah?” you smiled a bit, continuing to braid. “just for me, huh?”
boothill couldn’t help but let out a scruff, throaty chuckle, vibrations running through his chest.“just for you, darlin’.” he echoed.
 “you’ve got a magic touch, i s’ppose,” his eyes shut briefly. “could get used to this.”
the melodic and methodic movements of your fingers were earnestly making him drowsy, a soothing lullaby that laced and weaved around him in the same patterns as his hair. 
“like being pampered?” you teased playfully, earning a chuckle from him.
“you just got a way of makin’ a man feel real special. that’s all.”
your fingers kept slowly crossing and twisting strands.
“you should let me curl it some day,” you suggested, amusing yourself with the thought of him dawning a bunch of puffy ringlets. “you’d look like ‘genti.”
boothill's low laughter echoed quietly in the room, a deep sound that harmonised with your own. 
“now that’d be somethin’ to see,” he admitted with a playful scoff. “ol’ boothill with curls bouncin’ around like some dandy.”
he shook his head as he pictured it, and you had to flick his cheek to remind him to look straight.
“i'd sport some curls if it meant i get to see you smilin’.”
you smiled fondly at that, taking a small hair tie and wrapping it around the tail of his braid.
“you’re sweeter than you let on.” you reached around to fix his bangs a little bit. 
“there.” you tilted his head up a bit to look at him, feigning shock. “well, ain’t you pretty?”
hearing his own southern drawl echoed back to him made the cowboy snort. “ain’t i just the belle of the ball now?”
boothill's hand instinctively reached back to feel your handiwork, prosthetic fingers tracing along the weaves of his hair.
“mighty fine job, sugar plum.” he commended, turning around to face you on his knees, hands sliding up your thighs until they met behind your back in a careful hug around your waist. he looked up at you— really looked at you, that mushy softness in him pushing out through the cracks you always left in his defences. 
“thanks, darlin’.” he said quietly, those red cruciform pupils locked in on your own. “means more’en you might know, you spendin’ your time fussin’ over me like this.”
the cyborg’s head fell comfortably down in your lsp, nuzzling into you.
“i think fussing over you is a full time job,” you teased lightly, a smile evident in your voice. “not that i mind.”
one of your hands traced the mechanical connections of his arm, all the way up until your fingers gave a gentle brush to his cheek.
boothill let out a breathy chuckle, some air fanning across your tummy. his fingers, a soothing and smooth cool metal, traced little shapes along your lower back.
“well, i reckon i oughta start payin’ you overtime for such dedication.” he quipped quietly, demeanour playful yet earnest as always.
“paying me to start might be better.” you gave a playful pinch to his cheek.  
“i got a few ideas for how i can pay ya,” he teased back, giving a little nip to your thigh.
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⠀ MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?
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spiderbeam · 13 hours
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Here's a concept: I've been stuck on the idea of a dork reader who develops a small crush on Franco and works on her Spanish to impress talk to him but her pronunciation makes what she says borderline offensive/obscene and she knows it as she says it and starts apologizing and it's super awkward and embarrassing for her but I see Franco as being charmed that she put in the effort?
ohh i actually had to think about this one (and it got a little away from me) but. i can see this as either an mechanic!reader or engineer!reader from williams.
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you’ve recently befriended franco. and in your opinion, he makes it too easy. i mean—it’s not many drivers that go out of their way to greet everyone in the team every weekend without fail once they arrive on the paddock. but franco does. and he’s been doing so well, and you can’t help the fondness you’re starting to harbor for him. it’s his smile—you’re sure of it. but it’s also his determination to make the best of the few races he has, it’s how utterly drained he looks after every race but smiles and jokes anyway—how hard he is on himself when he doesn’t perform as he wishes. and you’re always having to remind him that he’s been doing this for three races. you find it you enjoy his company a lot more than you should.
you’ve been working on a little side-project during your free time.
now, you know you’re not gonna be able to learn an entire language in the span of eight races. and spanish is hard. but you’re determined to try your best to learn a few phrases.
buena suerte. good luck. lo haras increíble. you’ll do great. vas con todo. give it your all. but even then, they feel impersonal. so, you move away from standard phrases and try to learn one for him.
you find your moment after free practice, sitting inside franco’s driver room as you sit besides him. he’s tired, but with an excited energy he can’t seem to shed. your thigh is nudging against his, his hand inching closer to yours, and you decide to do it now before you chicken out.
you meet his gaze with an encouraging smile on your lips. “estoy muy orgullosa de como cogiste el auto.”
and franco is drinking from his water bottle as he faces you, and you can see the moment he stops, and coughs—and continues coughing. you stare at him in bewilderment.
his voice is scratchy and hoarse when he says, “¿cómo? yo no—what?” he coughs again, and there’s a red blush on his cheeks that wasn’t there before.
“what?” you blink, embarrassment lodging itself inside your throat. “i just, i’m proud of you—of how quickly you got the hang of the car.” you can feel heat spreading across your cheeks as you start rambling. “i know it’s been a really tough transition, and you’ve been doing so well and—” you swallow sharply, clamping down your jaw to prevent yourself from digging yourself an even deeper hole.
franco blinks at you. “oh.” a laugh escapes him, a smile pulling at his lips as humiliation blooms in your chest. “oh, corazona,” franco coos, tilting his head with a look that makes your heart skip a beat. there’s a glint in his eyes you can’t seem to place. “since when have you been learning spanish?”
“not that long…” you look away from him, fidgeting with your fingers. “i just wanted to, y’know, congratulate you like you deserve.”
franco clicks his tongue, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “that’s really sweet,” he says softly, “and it means a lot. but i think you’ve been learning spain spanish.”
you blink, turning your head slightly. he rests his chin on your shoulder to meet your gaze. “um… i think so? i didn’t think it would make much of a difference.”
“it does.” franco chuckles again. “cause in spain, coger means to grab, but in argentina…” his tongue swipes along his canines, lips twitching upward into an amused smirk. “…coger means to fuck. and i think i’d remember if i’d had sex with a car.”
“oh my god.” mortification must be too evident in your face, because this time, franco laughs louder than before. it’s a laugh that rattles his chest, that makes his body vibrate against yours.
“don’t worry,” he says after a beat. he leans closer to you, his lips brushing against your ear. “it’s cute.”
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a/n: ohhhh this one definitely got away from me. idk if i should even count this as a ramble cause it could be a drabble 😭 franco is my achilles heel i’m sorry
send me concepts ✉️
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moonstruckme · 2 days
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Like I said- sorry , I'm sending alot but you do what works for you 🪻🪻
Can I request apple pie - Eddie- for - red painted nails
Thank you 🪻
No need for sorries my love! Thank you for requesting :)
Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 655 words
You knock on the stage door, anticipation crackling in your fingertips. You feel close to bouncing on the balls of your feet. One thing you love about your goofball boyfriend is he never makes you feel stupid for being excited about something small; Eddie is always the most excited.
He sets the bar high even as he opens the door, a grin splitting his face. “Hey, baby. Didn’t know you were coming tonight.”
You guffaw, your offense only half feigned. “When have I missed a show?”
“I figure you’ve gotta get bored with them someday,” he says, but he clearly doesn’t believe it, taking your face in both hands to kiss you hello.
Eddie’s always loving on you, but he gets especially wound up before a show. The kiss is passionate, your mouths opening almost at the outset, and after a few seconds you have to restrain him with a hand on his chest. He gives your bottom lip a tiny nibble, but relents.
“I’m not bored yet,” you reply breathlessly. Eddie grins and steals one more to the corner of your mouth, short and sweet.
“I’ll try to keep you entertained,” he promises. His tone is several shades of smug. “I’ve got a surprise for you tonight. New song at the end of the set.”
Your heart zings. “Yeah? I’ve got a surprise for you, too.”
Eddie tilts his head. “What’s that?”
“Where’s your guitar?”
His eyebrows jump, interest thoroughly piqued. “It’s around. Why?”
“Take me to it?” You can’t seem to keep the smile off your face, and Eddie can’t seem to keep from mirroring it, though his is confused.
“Okay, weirdo.” He leads the way. You wave hello to his bandmates, letting him navigate you to where his guitar is standing against the wall in a corner.
Now, you feel a little bit stupid. You hope you haven’t built it up only to get it wrong. But you crouch beside the guitar, holding your fingers up to it, and the match is perfect.
Eddie gasps loud enough to make you laugh. He drops to his knees in front of you, staring at your red-painted nails with exaggerated reverence.
“Are you fucking with me?”
You laugh again, and he takes your hand in his. You keep your fingers splayed as he holds it out in front of him, eyes moving between his guitar and your nails. After a second he brings your fingers to his mouth, biting the tip of one between smiling teeth.
“Eddie,” you plead. You’d known he would love it, known he would make a big deal, but still he manages to make you feel shy.
He lets you take your fingers from his mouth but doesn’t let go of your hand. “How’d you do this?” he asks you.
“I just thought of it the other day.” You shrug, self-conscious. “I already had the polish, but when I was looking at it I thought they might be similar.”
“Similar? You cloned it.”
Your smile peeks out again. “I thought we could do yours sometime if you wanted. Like, before a show or something.”
Eddie makes a tortured groaning sound. He looks like he wants to bite your fingers again, but instead he kisses them.
“You’re too fucking cute,” he says, still beaming. “How did I get you?”
“You probably did something really despicable in a past life.”
“How dare you,” he exclaims, delighted. Kisses you hard, fingers tangling in your hair and body pressing close to yours. This time you don’t stop him, but after a while a loud cough from one of his bandmates pulls him away.
“Time to go?” you ask.
He sighs petulantly. “Yeah. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with you,” he says, standing up and picking up his guitar. “My surprise is never gonna hold up against yours.”
“I only painted my nails,” you say.
“Exactly! How am I supposed to top that?”
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cvnntagious · 1 day
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Mama
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☆ Fratboy!Chris Sturniolo blurb for @chrissexygf
Chris looked at you as you watched him pry your legs open, giving in to his touch against your better judgement. His pink lips wet with your saliva placed a kiss on your knee, trailing them down your leg to stop at the inside of your thigh. His eyes never left yours, glimmering with excitement and the afterglow of a high he'd just come down from. It felt like he'd waited for this moment forever.
"Lemme in it," He rasped, finger running up your pelvis to stop at the waistband of your pajama pants. A strange, but not out of character way of asking if he could finally hit.
As soon as you nodded, Chris licked his lips, tasting your lipgloss on them. He wasted no time in pulling your pants off of you, tossing them somewhere behind him. Shamelessly ogling, his fingers reach up to press the apparent wet spot on your cotton underwear. The action eliciting a hiss, his eyes flicked up to your face for a moment before he began tracing patterns around the area.
You whined under your breath at the teasing, causing Chris to smirk at the quiet noise. His tongue flattened to lick your aching core through the fabric, free hand holding your thigh down when he felt you try to close your legs around his head. "mm-mm," He made a noise of disagreement, shaking his head as he lifted it between your legs, "You alright, Mama, m'gonna be real nice to you tonight if ya stop all that fuckin' movin'."
With a pleading look on your face, you nodded obediently. At that, he looked back down at your core, his fingers tugging down your panties to comepletely expose it to him for the first time. "Fuck," He groaned at the sight, cunt leaking and lips wet with your liquids.
There was no warning when he swiped his finger down your folds to gather some of your juices on the tip of it, spreading them slightly as he did so. A small squeal left your mouth when the finger glided over your bud, Chris' smirk only growing when he looked up at you once more.
He kept eye contact while he slid that same finger into his mouth, groaning as he swirled his tongue around it and tasted you, then taking it out with a pop. "Yeah— Yeah, you're gettin' it good," He gave you a smug grin, sharp canines peeking out from his lips.
"Chris, y—"
He cut you off with a shush, slapping the inside of your thigh and rubbing the pain away in what felt like the same motion, causing your eyes to widen momentarily. "Don't worry, Mama," He said simply, kissing your throbbing folds before he lifted himself off of his forearms, "M'not gonna waste my time eatin' that right now, I already done that before."
You watched his every move, crawling up the bed to hoover over you, "I'm trynna feel your insides, ya feel?" He clarified, hand reaching between both of you to unbuckle his belt, "Just like y'said I could."
"Well, yeah, but-"
At that alone, Chris' eyes met yours with a burning intensity, no longer worried about the belt he'd just pulled out of the loops of his jeans in his hand. "What, y'don't want it no more?" He lifted himself more so he was now higher above you - further away from your face.
With a sigh at his heckling, you grabbed onto his bicep firmly, trying to get his full attention. "Chris," You repeated, "I'm telling you not to forget the condom in your back pocket." You spoke in a playfully frustrated tone, rolling your eyes at the way he struggled not to talk all the time.
Chris chuckled, shaking his head as he reached into his back pocket, "How'd you kn-"
"I accidentally pulled it out when you asked me to grab your wallet for you earlier," You answered before he could finish, hand reaching up further to now play with the tufts of curly brown hair at the base of his skull, "While that guy was buying that stuff from you."
The way he bit his lip while you spoke had you leaking more, likely onto the bed beneath you. His eyelids dropped a bit as he chuckled again, this time deeper and more prolonged. Then, he shuffled his jeans off and brought the gold magnum up to your face, slapping your nose with it, "So you think i'd forget this?" His tone was teasing, like something like that were impossible for him to do.
Without another word as you shook your head, he slipped his already hard length out of his boxers, discarding them in the same area he'd tossed your pajama pants. He pumped his length with his fingers above you, one hand propping himself up on the pillow beside your head as he hummed. The condom then slid onto his erection without a second glance to it, lining himself up with your small hole.
His tip prodded at your entrance for a moment before he used the same fingers to spread your wetness all over the condom, making sure it was ready to slip inside you. With that, he began to push into your cunt, watching the way your face twisted at the stretch. He only got in about half way before he slowly pulled back, feeling your walls clench around him when he then thrusted once more into you, bottoming out with a pleased groan.
Even with the condom, you both could feel everything, sensitive and receptive to each other. Almost instantly your legs lifted to give him more access, knees bending at his sides. "Mhm— that's what I been waiting for, " He muttered before slowly pulling back again, this time beginning to rock his hips into you.
He kept a steady pace as you gasped, head throwing back into the pillow. His free hand lowered to grab your hip, lifting your shirt slightly to get a better grip with your push skin. You let out some "oh's" as he picked up his pace, keeping his eyes trained on the way your face twitched and twisted.
As much as he wanted to keep his face close to yours, he wanted to feel all the depths of your inside more, lifting himself so he was now just on his knees in front of you. He grabbed the back of your knee to push your leg back as he fucked into you, loving the way you began whining with each thrust. "This shit's fuckin' perfect, Mama," He assured you through gritted teeth, his thrust seeming to increase in speed with each word, "Such good pussy."
His praises along with his powerful thrusts causing your guys' skin to clap loudly had you moaning and gasping loudly, lip finding its way between your teeth. You whimpered beneath him each time he hit your g-spot, and Chris felt your legs begin to tremble. Even so, he couldn't just give you up that easy, his hand grabbing a fist full of the bottom of your shirt to pull you into him so you could meet his movements. "ah- ohhh," He began mocking your moans, sly grin on his face, "Y'want it, hm?"
You nodded eagerly, eyes screwing shut as moan after moan fell from your lips. "I told you, Mama," He chuckled, refraining from moaning himself, "Told you I was gonna give you that good shit... How ya feelin' now?"
"S- so good," You struggled to get out, voice strained by the way his dick fogged your brain.
Chris licked his lips as you felt him twitch inside you, indicating he was close just like you. "I bet it is," He replied cockily, allowing himself to purse his lips together and let out hums of pleasure for a moment, "M'gonna give you what you want, okay? 'N you gonna give me what I want — Jus' gotta say my name, pretty."
It wasn't easy, but you obeyed, hissing out his name a few times when he'd thrust real good into you. Then, you felt that pressure in the pit of your stomach snap, chanting his name like a prayer as you came on his cock. And with that, Chris let out a few load groans, his cum following yours and filling up the rubber interception on his dick.
He rocked both of you through your highs, thrusts slowing each time until it eventually came to a stop. Both of you panted, and Chris lowered himself back down, this time putting his weight onto you. "Lucky s'our first time," Chris mumbled just loud enough for you to hear, his cheek smashed into your chest, "I'd be goin' another if it wasn't."
"Hope that pussy tight, mama / This love at first sight, mama / You the type I like, mama." -Rob49
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w/c : 1.4k
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luveline · 2 days
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Hey!! I love love LOVE your criminal minds content so much, especially the Hotch with unexpected daughter reader. Is there any chance you’re gonna write more for that series? I’d literally take anything, the comfort vibes are off the charts with your works and I need some Hotch comfort. But no worries if not, hope you have a great week <33
thank you for requesting! fem, 1.4k
Jack peers at you from over the furthest armrest. “Y/N. Are you grumpy?” 
“Do I look grumpy?” you ask. 
“Yes.” He pokes his eyebrow. “You do.” 
“My face is betraying me then, because I’m not grumpy.” 
“Mine does that to me all the time but mom doesn’t believe it.”
You give him a small nudge. “Your mommy probably knows you better than you know yourself, like, knows how you’re feeling before you do.” 
“But how does she know?”
“I think it’s because she loves you. She really loves you, babe. You’re lucky.” 
“So lucky.” He climbs over the armrest and onto the couch, smiling at you politely, like a friend he’s just found at school. 
You try to see the similarities in your faces. He looks more like Haley than he does Aaron. You look more like your mother, too. There are bits of Aaron in both of you, yours not quite as physical —Jack’s tame when it comes to expressing emotion, and you both talk in a measured tone. (Though your tone is coincidence or genetics, but not learned. You’d have to have known him growing up for it to be learned.) 
“Did dad tell you what mommy said?” Jack asks. 
You glance over his head but see no one. Aaron said he was going to get chips for movie night, and Haley tends to find things to do. “No.” 
“It’s a secret.” 
“Well, you don’t have to tell me.” 
“You can’t tell anyone,” he says. 
Your stomach feels not your own. “I won’t,” you promise. 
“Mommy says you’re here too much.” 
You nod slowly. Jack frowns at you as though waiting for you to be upset, but you’ve suspected she thinks so for a while. It’s not something you blame her for. 
Jack watches you. 
“Dad got really mad.”
“I’m sorry, Jack. That must’ve been scary.” 
Jack drops his face into your arm. “No. Dad doesn’t yell. But he slept in my room with me.” 
“Want a hug?” you whisper. 
Jack squirms under your arm. You pull him toward you and try to divide your feelings into boxes. Embarrassed and horrified and a little annoyed that Haley thinks you’re here too much. Sad and again embarrassed that Aaron defended you. 
This is Haley’s house, and she never signed up for you. She’s never made you feel unwelcome but that doesn’t mean she wants to see you every Saturday. You're a huge new wedge inserted in their married lives, and now you’re affecting Jack, making his parents argue.  
“I’m sorry,” you say, suddenly flooded by a wave of hot, awkward regret. 
You knew when you found out that Aaron was your father that you would change his life. You’ve always hoped it would be for the better, but maybe it isn’t. 
“Jack…” you say. What is it about hugging him that makes you feel like crying? “I’m real sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen.” 
“It’s not your fault. I like you here. You’re fun.” 
“Thanks, Jack.” 
He looks up at you. “Will you stop coming over?” 
“I guess it’s up to your mommy.” You falter. “Jack?”
“What?” 
“I’m sorry if having a new sister isn’t as fun as you thought it would be. I don’t want to make things harder for you, but I guess I did.” 
“Mom says everything is hard now.” 
You bite the inside of your cheek in efforts to hide how you’re feeling. “I’m sorry. Um, listen, can I have a big hug? I just remembered I have to go help my mom at home.”
“You’re leaving?” 
“Sorry, Jack.” 
Jack gives you a hug. You gather your things and rush to the door to shove your shoes on, but your dad catches you before you can leave. 
“Where are you going?” Aaron asks, his smile falling.
“I–” He makes you nervous, and you know your stammer gives you away. “I forgot I had to do the laundry for my mom tonight, if I don’t do it she’ll be mad for days.” 
“I’m sure you can make it up to her tomorrow,” he suggests gently.
“I better go.”
“Honey, what’s really going on?”
“The laundry is really going on,” you say, unconvincing. “I have to go, I’m really sorry.”
“It’s okay. Well, I’ll see you on–”
You open the door before he can finish or offer a hug, image of him in his loose t-shirt carrying a tray of sandwiches burned into your guilty conscience. 
You don’t see Aaron for three weeks before he corners you. You owe your great avoidance to his busy job, but it didn’t feel good to reject him, to refuse to make time for him as he does for you. 
“You!” he says, clearly kidding but not entirely where he’s waiting outside of your university building. “Beautiful young woman in the blue! I have some questions for you.” 
It’s so absurd for him that you immediately burst into shy laughter. “Dad, what?” you ask, hiding your face. 
Classmates part around you, seemingly unperturbed. 
Aaron retrieves his badge. “See this? I could detain you, but I won’t if you come quietly. In fact, if you don’t argue I’ll buy you lunch.” 
“You’d buy my lunch regardless.” 
He grabs you. Kindly, but grabbing all the same, like he’s worried you’re about to scarper. “Where have you been hiding?” he asks, giving you a quick hug. You feel tenseness in his arms you're unused to, hear a sadness in his voice that makes your throat burn. 
Putting a table between you helps marginally. Aaron pretends he doesn’t know why you’ve been avoiding him and the Hotchner house, and you’re more than happy to go along with it, until. 
“I have something to tell you,” he says. 
You press against a piece of soaked fruit with your spoon. “Okay.” 
“Haley and I are probably going to separate.” 
You bite your tongue so hard it makes you flinch, spoon scratching the bottom of your bowl. “What?” 
“We’ve been having problems ever since Jack was born.” 
You stare. 
Aaron is very still. He talks carefully. Not without emotion, but stilted, perhaps. “I’m not as good a father as I wish I were. And Haley sees that. Sweetheart, I haven’t ever wanted to burden you with the, uh, less than happy details of my life. I think you’ve suffered me enough. But I’m telling you because I know Jack told you about my most recent argument with Haley.” He smiles at you. “Honey, we fight too much. That day, it was about you, but it’s not all about you, and she doesn’t… Haley’s a good woman. She is. I’ve changed her life a hundred different ways and she hasn’t had many choices, and she…” Something vulnerable crops up, a wavering in his breath. “Sometimes I think she isn’t fair. She holds me to standards I can’t reach, no matter how hard I try, but we’ve stopped arguing about it so much recently, and I’m afraid that that’s… the death knell.” 
“I’m sorry,” you say softly. 
“I’m going to keep trying. I don’t want to lose her.” He drinks what’s left of his soda and presses his napkin under the edge of his plate. “But I won’t lose you, you know? I just want you to understand that you’re not the problem, and you never could be.” 
“I don’t want to add another thing to your levy, dad,” you say, still soft. 
“Meeting you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Well, tied with your brother, of course. You aren’t a thing to be added to anything, you’re my daughter, and Haley might not like it but my home will always have a place for you.” 
What if that’s the problem? From his perspective, you’re not a hindrance to his marriage so much as a separate issue, but from your own, it sounds like you’re just making things worse. 
You’ve missed him, though, and you can’t argue that his reassurances aren’t working. 
“It’s not that Haley doesn’t like you,” he adds, reaching for your hand, “more that she’s unhappy. I’m sorry that that’s something you had to carry.” 
You often think to yourself that Aaron talks like he’s telling a story. He’s so calm and steady, the same as the feeling of his thumb on your wrist. 
“I’m sorry I stormed out.” 
“I wouldn’t call that storming out,” he says. “You’re too quiet sometimes. I wish you’d be upset out loud.” 
“I just don’t want you to fight about me.” 
“Honey,” —he holds your eyes, giving your wrist a gentle squeeze— “I’m always gonna fight for you. That’s what fathers do.”
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bunnys-kisses · 2 days
Text
some women don't want the bear
john 'soap' mactavish
cw: smut/pwp, predator/prey, cnc, roleplay/fantasy, forest sex, messy sex, unprotected sex, after care, gunplay, degrading language, dirty talk, (partially) clothed sex, pussy slapping, filth (!!!)
bunny says! reblogs, tags & comments feed the rabbit!
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you never really thought about scotland having forests. you always imagined the rolling plains and large cows. not dense forests as you hastily ran pass trees and tried not to trip over roots.
your heart was racing, your breathing ragged. you needed to get away from the man in the woods. he had found you cabin for the week and had tried to get his way inside. the only way for you was out the door and into the forests before he could harm you.
"shit, shit, shit." you panted as you tried to get further into the forest, only getting more lost. you felt panic all of as you ended up in a clearing.
you wanted to scream for help, but no one would hear you. you were a lost little thing, all alone in the woods with a big scary man. a man who wanted to take you apart.
your knees felt weak as you looked around, the afternoon light shined through the thick foliage of the trees. you eventually crumbled to your knees like a dying deer when you heard the snap of a twig nearby. you quivered and whimpered when the heavy footsteps came closer.
you felt yourself be yanked by the hair and forced to look up at the man in front of you. you bottom lip wobbled, "please don't kill me, sir."
he chuckled and tapped his pistol to your nose, "cute. i don't like 'em dead, bonnie. i like 'em when they struggle." then pressed the gun to your lips, "c'mon. be a good little whore and suck. or i'll find another way to get this thing wet." his eyes cast down to your lap.
you carefully licked the gun and the intruders eyes were on you. his blue eyes gleamed like sapphires, full of danger. you never got his name as you continued to suck off his gun.
you prayed it wasn't loaded.
"pretty girl for me." he said, "bet you're popular with the boys at uni." he laughed before he used his other hand to comb his fingers through your hair, "don't worry about that. once i get my seed planted in ya, you'll be too tired to think about other boys while you're chasin' my boys around." he pinched your cheek, "hard to finish school when you're nursing one babe and pregnant with another." he chuckled.
you hated how hot it felt. it flooded your core and made your face hot all over. your heart raced as you continued to lick the weapon.
his words kept coming, "you, me and our little mission to repopulate that big cabin you were staying in. you were tempting me with that, one woman doesn't need that many rooms. you were hoping i'd come and give you an excuse to fill 'em up. better i come and seed that little cunt of yours before a big bear or something comes and does it instead.' he laughed at the improbability of that.
you looked up at him, your eyes gleamed in the afternoon light and it made the intruder's cock twitch in his pants. he patted your cheek a little harder than you liked before he wanted you to have the real thing.
he tossed the weapon to the side and pushed you down onto your back. he got on top of you and he could feel the heat of your core through those thin tights. he didn't give it much time before he ripped the cheap fabric at the crotch, followed by your panties ending up in tatters too at the seam.
"good hold you got there, bonnie." he purred, "a nice tight little cunt that i'm gonna enjoy ruining." he chuckled as he sank two thick fingers into your sweet puffy hole. he sank in like a hot knife cut butter, "oh, someone's a little whore, huh? do you let all the big scary men of the forest fuck you? or am i just special." he smiled with all teeth and you felt wetness grow between your legs.
he crowded your space, his weight on top of you kept your pinned. you weren't as strong or as big as him. he was muscular with a mohawk and a tattoo. you could already feel his length pressing against you through his jeans.
he was going to split you in half with that thing!
"ya want it, bonnie? do you want me to fuck you raw. ruin you for any other man so much so that another man could even breed you. get that pretty cunt addicted to my cum." he patted your pussy before he sank his fingers back into you, now using his thumb to play with your clit.
you sent electricity through you, you tried to find some support from the forest floor to get yourself out from under him. but there was no escaping him. you were going to be bred by this monster.
you wanted to hit him, but he was a bulk of solid muscle. you would break your hands before you made any dent in him. you laid there and kicked out your legs but you were pinned under him.
he took his fingers out of your slick pussy and licked your wetness off of them letting out a soft moan, you tasted so good. he said, "a wife's gotta taste good, even when heavy with bairn." then placed a broad hand on your stomach as he got his cock out of his blue jeans.
the birds chirped and the sun beamed down on you as you laid in the mess of leaves and twigs. you could feel the man's heavy gaze on you. you swallowed at the sight of his cock, it was thick. you swore his balls were heavy, ready for breeding.
he kept his hand on you as he guided his cock into your sweet, slick pussy. he groaned a little bit as he pushed into you. your pussy felt so good enough his cock.
he chuckled, "where have you been all my life?" his pace skipped pleasantries and soon he was bullying it deep into your womb, "a pretty little thing to breed and keep. you, me and a bunch of babies." he was so large compared to you, you couldn't fight him off. he looked like a military man, even if you could get out from under him, he would stalk you through the forest. he groaned, "you're so good for me, lettin' me use that sweet cunt of yours. i'll keep this little cunt." he patted it before he gave it a firm slap.
you panted and squirmed under him, a fruitless attempt as he fucked you with a fury that you couldn't find words for. his cock felt like it was in the back of your throat.
the harshness of his thrusts made your head spin as you gripped onto him and tried to get him off of you. but he wasn't going anywhere, he was too busy having his cock into you. he wasn't going anywhere until he was finished with you.
you were his now.
regardless the pleasure coursed through you and the pace made you hot all over. the feeling was overwhelming and you knew you wouldn't last long. you panted and moaned, your entire body was burning from the intense pleasure.
"please." you whimpered.
"what?" he asked, curious what you had to say.
"please don't kill me." you whimpered.
"no, no.. shh, shh. no way." he said, his voice overly sweet, "i would never. now c'mon, bonnie. cum for your husband." as he continued to thrust up against you cunt.
you then gripped onto the forest floor as best as you could and arched your back. you then climaxed. you felt your body betray you as your pussy clenched around him as you it all became too much. you felt like an animal being bred in the forest. "fuck." you gasped.
"so good. fuck, i'm gonna ruin that little pussy. don't worry, bonnie.
he spurted inside of you with a heavy grunt before he slowed to a stop. his heart hammered in his chest as he admired the sight of you. he gave you pussy a firm slap before he pulled out.
"good girl." and after that, the little roleplay ended. and the man you loved came back. he got you in his arms as he kissed at your face, you were still in a state of bliss as your orgasm still came through you.
johnny then picked the twigs out of your hair, he got his jacket around your shoulders. he may have gone a little over kill with ripping your leggings and panties. but you were safe with him now.
"did you like that?" he asked as he rubbed your shoulders before he helped you onto your shaky legs. he'd carry you if he had to, that what was what a husband did for his wife.
even if she wanted to have crazy, kinky forest sex during their honeymoon. but he'd have to admit, it did excite him too. using those skills of his to good use. so before he picked you up and brought you back to the cabin for some nice tea and food, he waited to give him a response.
you looked up at him, as if your cheek was scraped from the debris on the forest floor. your eyes gleamed, almost excitingly as you said, "can we do that again sometime?" <3
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archiveofvirtue · 2 days
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cherry pie — dean winchester
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content: dean winchester x fem!reader, established relationship, pie addicted dean, flirting, intimate touching and kissing, slight fluff, mentions of alcohol, 2.4K words
summary: When joining Dean with a slice of cherry pie turns into something more extensive, unfolding a deeper connection than either one of you had imagined. — inspired by the song “cherry pie” by warrant
feedback and requests are welcomed <3
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The harvelle's roadhouse was buzzing with life, a mix of laughter, music, and clinking glasses filling the air. The neon sign above the bar flickered, casting a reddish glow over the crowd as they danced and mingled. Dean Winchester sat in a corner booth, nursing a beer, his eyes focused on the pool table in the center of the room. He wasn't paying much attention to the game, though. His thoughts were elsewhere- far from the game. They were on you; you could feel it.
As you made your way back to you guys' table, a mischievous glint lit your eyes. You slid into the booth beside him, your fingers grazing his arm as you placed a plate of food on the table. "Thought you might be hungry," you said, voice teasing as you pushed the plate toward him.
Dean glanced down at the slice of cherry pie, its bright red filling oozing slightly over the flaky crust. He chuckled, shaking his head. "You're gonna get me in trouble, bringing me this," he said, but the smile on his face gave away that he didn't mind at all.
You leaned closer, lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, "Maybe I like getting you into trouble."
Dean's grin widened, and he turned his head to catch your lips with his in a quick, heated kiss. You tasted sweet, like the cherries from the pie, and he felt a familiar spark of desire flare up inside him. You had always had that effect on him-you were wild, unpredictable, and full of life, everything that made the chaos of his world feel a little more bearable.
"So," you said, pulling back just enough to look at him, eyes shining with amusement. "You gonna eat that, or do I have to feed it to you?"
Dean smirked, picking up the fork and slicing off a piece of the pie. "As much as l'd like that," he said, popping the bite into his mouth, "I think I can manage."
You watched him with a satisfied smile, your hand slipping under the table to rest on his thigh. You felt the warmth of his skin through the fabric, and as he leaned in for another taste of your lips, the sweetness of the pie and a slight hint of whiskey lingered between you. You knew you were getting under his skin just as much as he was under yours.
"Good?" You asked when you finally broke apart, voice breathy.
"Delicious," Dean replied, his eyes locked on yours. You knew he wasn't just talking about the pie.
The music shifted, and a new song came on, something with a heavy beat that matched the thrum of his pulse. Your eyes lit up, and you grabbed his hand, tugging him toward the dance floor. "Come on," you urged, not giving him a chance to protest.
Dean let you pull him along, his resistance melting away as you two moved into the crowd.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, body swaying to the music as you pressed yourself against him.
Dean's hands settled on your hips, guiding your movements as you fell into a rhythm together.
The room seemed to blur around you, the other people and the noise fading into the background.
All Dean could focus on was you-the way your body moved against his, the feel of your skin under his hands, the scent of your hair as it brushed against his cheek. You were intoxicating, and he was completely under your spell.
"You know," you said, lips close to his ear as you two danced, "I've always had a thing for bad boys."
Dean chuckled, his grip on you tightening. "Is that right?"
"Mm-hmm," you hummed, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Especially the ones who look at me the way you do."
Dean's heart skipped a beat, the words hitting him harder than they should have. You knew you'd struck a nerve by the way he was looking at you, making him feel something deeper than just the heat between you two.
You leaned in, capturing his lips in a slow, lingering kiss that told him exactly what you wanted. You had a way of getting under his skin, of making him feel things he wasn't sure he was ready to feel. But with you, it didn't seem so scary. It felt... right.
"Can't help it," he murmured, his voice rough against your skin. "You're just too damn irresistible."
Your smile was wicked as you pulled back just enough to look at him, eyes full of promise while the heat between you only grew hotter. "Then show me how much you mean it."
Dean didn't need to be told twice. He tightened his grip on your waist, spinning you around so that your back was pressed against his chest. His hands roamed over your body as you moved together, the heat inside you taking over.
The world outside your little bubble didn't matter anymore-there was only the music, the movement, and the undeniable chemistry that crackled between the two of you.
You leaned your head back against his shoulder, your breath coming in short, eager gasps as you let yourself get lost in the moment. When Dean's lips brushed against your neck, trailing down to your collarbone, you let out a soft moan, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling him closer.
You stayed like that for what felt like hours, lost in each other, the world outside the dance floor forgotten. When the song finally came to an end, you were both breathless, bodies pressed close together as if you couldn't bear to be apart.
You looked up at him, eyes filled with a mix of desire and something deeper-something that made Dean's heart swell with emotion. You didn't say anything, you didn't need to. The way you looked at him, the way you held him close, told Dean everything he needed to know.
He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Let's get out of here," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.
You nodded, a soft smile playing on your lips. "Lead the way, Winchester."
You two left the roadhouse hand in hand, the night air cool against your flushed skin as you two made your way to the Impala. Dean opened the door for you, his hand lingering on your hand as you slid into the passenger seat.
As he climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine, Dean couldn't help but steal a glance at you. Upu were leaning back in your seat, eyes closed and a contented smile on your face. You looked so peaceful, so beautiful, that it made his heart ache.
"Where to?" he asked, his voice soft.
You opened your eyes and looked at him, your smile widening. "Surprise me," you said, your tone playful to which he just nodded.
You grinned, as he put 'baby' in gear, pulling out onto the road. You had a feeling tonight was going to be one to remember..
The Impala's engine roared as Dean pressed down on the gas, the familiar hum of the car vibrating through his body. The road stretched out before the two of you, a ribbon of asphalt disappearing into the darkness. The headlights cut through the night, illuminating the trees that lined the narrow highway. Dean didn't have a specific destination in mind, but that didn't matter. With you by his side, anywhere you ended up would be just fine.
You reached over, your fingers brushing lightly against the back of his neck where it played with his tousled hair. "You always know how to make a night interesting," you said with a playful smile, eyes sparkling in the dim light.
Dean glanced over at you, his green eyes piercing through you, your heart doing that familiar flip it always did when he looked at you like that. "You haven't seen anything yet," he replied, his voice laced with a teasing edge.
You drove in comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds being the rumble of the Impala's engine and the occasional rustle of wind through the open windows. Dean could feel you watching him, your gaze soft and thoughtful, and it sent a warm thrill through him. He'd never been one for settling down, but with you, everything felt different—like maybe, just maybe, he could finally stop running.
After about half an hour of driving, you came across a small, secluded lookout point just off the road. Dean turned the car down the gravel path, the tires crunching on the loose rocks as you approached a clearing that overlooked the rolling hills below. The view was stunning, with the moon casting a silvery glow over the landscape and the stars twinkling brightly above you.
Dean parked the car and turned off the engine, the sudden silence almost deafening. He looked over at you, who was already gazing out the window, your face illuminated by the soft light of the moon.
"Wow," you whispered, your breath fogging up the glass slightly as you leaned closer to the window. "It's beautiful."
Dean nodded, unable to take his eyes off you. "Yeah, it is."
You turned to him, catching the meaning behind his words, and your cheeks flushed slightly. "You've got a way with words, Winchester," you teased, though your voice was warm with affection.
Dean shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Just calling it like I see it."
You laughed softly, the sound sending a pleasant shiver down his spine. You opened the car door and stepped out, stretching your arms above your head as you breathed in the cool night air. Dean followed suit, walking around the car to stand beside you.
For a moment, you two just stood there, taking in the view and the peacefulness that surrounded you. The world felt a million miles away, and you were grateful for the rare moment of tranquility.
You moved closer to Dean, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his chest. Dean automatically slid his arms around you, holding you close as you stood together under the blanket of stars.
"You know," you said after a few minutes, voice barely above a whisper, "I never thought I'd find something like this... someone like you."
You felt his heart skip a beat at your words, and he tightened his hold on you, resting his chin on top of your head. "I know the feeling," he murmured.
You looked up at him, your eyes searching his as if you were looking for something—confirmation, maybe, or reassurance. Dean wasn't sure what you saw in his eyes, but whatever it was, it made you smile softly, a smile that made his heart ache in the best way possible.
"Let's stay here for a while," you suggested, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his back. "Just you and me, no distractions."
Dean nodded, his thumb brushing lightly across your cheek. "Yeah," he agreed. "I'd like that."
You two leaned against the hood of the Impala, you nestled comfortably in his arms, and watched the stars twinkle above. The night was quiet, the only sounds being the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze and the steady thrum of your hearts beating in sync.
After a while, you tilted your head up to look at him again, your eyes gleaming with that familiar mischievous glint. "So, about that pie," you began, her tone playful.
Dean raised an eyebrow, smirking down at you. "What about it?"
You bit your lip, pretending to think. "I don't know... I just figured a guy like you might have something better up his sleeve."
Dean chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "You're never satisfied, are you?"
"Not when it comes to you," you replied, your voice dropping to a husky whisper that sent a jolt of desire through him.
Dean's smirk softened into something more tender as he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your soft skin. "Good," he said, leaning in closer until your lips were just a breath apart. "Because I'm not planning on going anywhere."
Your breath hitched slightly, and you closed the distance between you two, your lips capturing his in a kiss that was slow and deep, filled with all the unspoken promises you'd been dancing around for so long. Dean kissed you back with equal fervor, pouring everything he had into it—every emotion, every unsaid word, every hope for a future he hadn't dared to dream about until now.
When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, foreheads resting against each other as you tried to steady your racing hearts.
"I think I'm falling for you, Y/N," Dean admitted, his voice rough with the weight of the confession. "Hell, maybe I already have."
You looked up at him, eyes shining with a mix of surprise and something else—a feeling that only filled your body when you were with him. You smiled, a soft, genuine smile that reached your eyes. "Good," you whispered, repeating his earlier words. "Because I'm already there."
Dean's breath caught in his throat at your words, and before he could say anything else, you pulled him back in for another kiss—this one slow and tender, a kiss that spoke of the future the two of you could have, if you were brave enough to take it.
As you stood there, wrapped up in each other under the endless sky, Dean realized that for the first time in a long time, he wasn't thinking about the next hunt or the next battle. All he could think about was the woman in his arms and the life you could build together—one filled with moments like this, moments where the world outside didn't matter, and all that existed was the love between you two.
It wasn't something he'd ever expected to find, but now that he had it, he wasn't planning on letting it go. Not for anything.
And as you held each other close, the stars above you twinkling like the cherries in the pie you'd shared, you both knew that this was just the beginning of something beautiful. Something worth fighting for.
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tags: @nuemanfilms @pinkgic @angelicjackles @6thlisbongirl @s4wdvator @nxptvn @nourties @alluvthegurlz
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kurooh · 11 hours
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when choso first learns about what facesitting really is, he brings it up after a make out session that’s left you both hot and heavy. he’s tugging on your hand, practically begging you to take a seat.
“i-i’m not sure,” you stutter, unsure. “what if you suffocate or something? i don’t wanna hurt you..”
the look he gives you is one of pure need and longing. “i don’t care, just sit baby. please.”
for good measure, choso gives you a little pout, breaking into giggles and a smile once you slip your panties and shorts off. your thighs tremble as you hover above his face, eyes squeezing shut at the heat of his breath against your sticky cunt.
“mmm, that’s no good,” he remarks, large hands rising to your hips and settling lightly. “i told you, sit down.” choso’s strong, yanking you down hard onto his face; you feel and hear his muffled moan when your pussy’s all over his whole face.
“choso!”
“so, so fucking good,” choso gasps against you, holding your squirming body in place as his tongue laps and laps at your sticky cunt.
beneath you, his body’s sweltering with heat, racing through every nerve like electricity while tight pressure builds in his cock. with a glance over your shoulder, you notice his hips rutting into the air as he searches for friction.
“cho,” you sob, so overwhelmed you actually feel tears building in your eyes, “i-i wanna suck you off, ‘s not fair—”
he easily lifts you and peers up at you from between your thighs, face flushed and shining with your slick. with a shaky finger, you nudge some of his hair away from his forehead.
“don’t want you to,” it’s painful to say, because he really does, but that’s simply a distraction for the both of you. “baby,” he murmurs gently, “i want you to focus on cumming for me, ‘s all, okay?”
you nod quietly, and the gesture is met with a mild slap to your ass. “okay, cho,” the moment the words leave your bitten lips, he’s pulling you back down and greedily drinking all of you in, taking whatever he can get.
choso’s ministrations encourage you to roll your hips against his face; a light bump of his nose to your clit has you crying out and grinding all over him. that’s right, he thinks, stars in his closed eyes. he wishes he could tell you to use him to get off, but he’d have to lift you up and he doesn’t want to even breathe.
unconsciously, he matches your pace, his hips rising into the air in synchrony with your own. one of your hands slips into his silky hair and tugs; he’s your anchor, keeping you somewhat steady although he’s the reason you can’t stop shaking.
“choso,” you wail loudly, angling your hips to let him take your clit between his lips and suck, “oh, i’m so close, ‘m gonna cum soon—”
from between your thighs, choso sees everything: the parting of your lips, the way your face crumbles in absolute pleasure, the brief moment of stillness as you fully fall over the edge.
it’s too much and not enough, but he cums too.
“c-cumming, choso,” is all you can muster, riding out your orgasm on his face and tongue while his hips buck wildly into the air.
the muffled moan you feel deep in your cunt makes you gasp, pulling away at the feeling of overstimulation, but he’s holding you tight. a look over your shoulder at the right moment, and you watch as his clothed cock explodes, gushing cum and soaking his boxers.
after all your squirming and pulling away, choso finally lets you go with crescent moon indents in your plush skin and a loud huff.
“i wasn’t done,” he heaves, skin smeared with your cum. it’s glossy and messy, but he won’t think about washing it off until you’ve cum at least three more times.
“but you came and everything, i—”
choso silences you by sealing his lips against yours, and you can briefly taste yourself— sweet, just like he’s always said.
“a few more times, please?”
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