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sttoru · 7 months

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·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you’ve been one of sukuna’s many concubines for quite a while now. yet, you still cannot get rid of the jealousy in your system whenever he interacts with the other women in his harem.

wc. idk around 1 to 2k

tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. angst (hurt to comfort), fluff, suggestive at the end. heian era. you call sukuna ‘my lord’. reader gets called ‘brat, little girl’. size difference. no part2, don’t ask i beg. not beta read.

“get back here, brat,” sukuna raises his voice as he follows you. he isn’t one to care about others’ emotional outbursts, yet here he is, chasing you after you’ve poured out your heart to him.

you don’t know why you’re this upset. you do know, however, that it’s childish of you to walk away mid dinner. you should’ve just stayed seated and refuse to let the thoughts consume you.

now you’re speed walking down the hallways of the estate—your legs carrying you as fast as they can without actually making a run for it. your mind keeps replaying the ‘unsettling’ scene that caused you to flee.

you remember it vividly. the sound of sukuna’s low, amused chuckle. how intrigued it was because of something another concubine told him—how he stopped chewing to say something back to her. which he rarely does.

hell, you’ve never seen him laugh around his other concubines.

“i do not wish to talk to you right now, my lord,” you reply, voice raised so the distance wouldn’t make it a hassle for the king of curses to hear you. you know that feisty attitude of yours entertains sukuna to no end.

he raises an eyebrow once he’s heard your voice; how it’s dripping with envy and hurt. you’ve never reacted like that before—at least not in his presence. it made him want to figure out why and how.

though, he can easily guess the reasoning behind your sudden defiance.

“oh, that so?” sukuna hums. he’s lenient with you this time around. he could catch up to you in under a split second, but he decides to give you that sense of accomplishment first before completely destroying it. he walks after you slowly, your fast steps being the same tempo as his slow pace.

you don’t answer. you’re stubborn. you have no right to feel jealous. you are a fairly new concubine—only a couple months ago did you join sukuna’s harem. yet, the time spent with him was precious.

he treats you differently. everyone notices that. everyone tells you the same. you know he does by the way he lets you off the hook with most stuff you say and do.

you don’t know what you did to gain his favouritsm, but it’s addicting. his attention is addictive. real addictive.

you had sworn not to develop any unneccessary feelings for that ruthless sorcerer. but, with the way sukuna treated you so gently behind closed doors, it was impossible not to.

you eventually reach the doors to your chambers. you slide them open and wish to close them behind you, only for a big hand to halt those movements. you freeze in place and refuse to look up at the owner of that said hand.

“look up,” sukuna demands. his voice causes goosebumps to appear on your arms, but you still don't budge. he clicks his tongue. that’s your first warning. two more and your punishment will be carried out, “we can do this the hard way too if you want.”

you turn your head, your fingers curling around the material of your kimono. you really should not feel this way about a little interaction between sukuna and his other concubine. that is none of your concern. what he does with those other women is none of your concern.

and yet. . .

“i don't want to,” you retort. sukuna walks into your room with a sigh. each step he takes forwards, you take backwards. your back finally bumps against the wall next to your bed.

sukuna towers over you, his tall and big frame making you feel vulnerable. especially with the way those red eyes of his are staring down at you. he crosses all four of his arms before speaking.

“tell me what’s running through that head of yours,” sukuna inquires sternly. he isn’t playing around anymore, you can tell. you glance the other way—knowing that he will laugh at you the moment you tell him why you’re upset.

you have a feeling he knows the reason behind your tantrum anyway.

“it’s nothing of importance, my lord,” you shake your head and relax your tense shoulders to make you seem less upset. your words have some truth in them—you don’t think your feelings of envy hold any value to him.

sukuna sighs again. he’s trying his best not to be annoyed at you. you’re his favorite and he wishes not to sadden you any further. he steps forwards, one hand moving to cup the side of your face.

his rough fingers play with a string of your hair, “i’m not stupid, little girl. i don’t like it when my woman is in distress.”

your heart skips a beat. this is what confuses you—how he can go from stern to gentle and vice versa. it’s surprisingly unexpected, which makes you long for more. even if his behaviour is confusing.

you look up at sukuna. your eyes meet for the first time in a good couple minutes. the corner of sukuna’s lips curls up into a satisfied smirk. that’s one step closer to getting you to open up.

“now,” the king of curses lowers his head to your eye level, the proximity all the more nerve wracking. he holds your jaw super tightly out of the blue. it makes you whimper.

“spit it out.”

there it is. the duality of the man strikes once more. you swallow the spit that’s been building up in your mouth. you bite your bottom lip lightly, trying to gather and form the right words to explain yourself.

sukuna wouldn’t understand. he’s a cold-hearted man who doesn’t care about such ‘trivial’ matters. he’ll just call you stupid, pathetic or whatever other derogatory term.

you stop your thoughts for a moment.

“it’s really just a stupid thing,” you mutter. your fingers curl around sukuna’s wrist—the one hand he’s using to firmly hold your jaw. you take a deep breath in, “i did not like it when you, errr. . . when that woman talked to you at the dinner table.”

your voice is clearly dripping with jealousy. pure, pure jealousy. and for what? because he talked to his other concubine. you feel stupid. you thought you discarded your personal feelings for the sorcerer before you the moment you turned into one of his many women.

“that woman?” sukuna tilts his head, feigning ignorance. that little grin on his face tells you enough. he’s playing with you like some form of entertainment. well, technically you are.

he wants you to be specific. he’s forcing you to be by acting like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about.

in all honesty, sukuna’s already forgotten what that woman had said to him. it wasn’t and still isn’t worth remembering. all he can recall is your adorable facial expression when you saw him interact like that with his other concubine.

that little frown on your face was priceless. it makes him want to keep teasing you.

“you know who i am talking about, my lord,” you huff, trying to look away, but get stopped by sukuna readjusting his grip on your jaw. he firmly yet gently taps your cheek once and you know what it means.

“attitude,” sukuna warns with a quick hiss. he can let you say whatever you want to him, but you also have some limits regarding which tone you use with him. you apologise quietly under your breath.

the king of curses nods in satisfaction before releasing the grip on your jaw. his large hand trails down to your neck, thumb rubbing up and down your throat, “so, my little girl is mad at me because i talked to another concubine of mine, huh?”

you nod mindlessly. sukuna can easily get you to comply with him—to obey his every word, simply with his actions. the terms of endearment he uses are the cherry on top. they slip off his tongue so easily with you.

“tsk tsk,” sukuna shakes his head. his hand is now on the back of your head, fingers tangled into your hair. he’s staring down at you with a smug expression. he knows he’s got you wrapped around his finger, “how childish of you.”

you knew that would be one of the things he’d say to you. what you didn’t expect is for him to go for a kiss right after. his lips land on yours firmly, and to no surprise, you instantly return the gesture.

your arms wrap around his neck—your chest pressing against his. sukuna wastes no time in picking you up and letting your legs encircle his waist. he’s not pulling away for air to breathe and you don’t either.

“you’re going to listen to me, yeah?” sukuna murmurs between passionate kisses. he’s holding onto you tightly with two arms, his free hands roaming over your body whilst he pins you against the wall.

when you whimper out a weak, high-pitched ‘yes, my lord’, he smirks against your mouth before turning to kiss your neck. he slightly bites the skin to make sure you’re paying attention to him.

“i don’t remember what that woman said,” sukuna continues, nearly out of breath because of the kisses he’s leaving all over you. he easily grabs both your wrists and pins them above your head on the wall, “i was too busy lookin’ at a much prettier concubine of mine.”

he pulls back a little so he can look you in the eyes. you’re panting and embarrassed by what he just said. one of his hands finds your face again, tracing the shape of your mouth.

“my favourite,” sukuna whispers whilst licking his lips. you can see it in his eyes: he’s silently planning out how he’s going to remind you of your place. your place as his favorite concubine.

he dips his head back down, aiming for the valley between your breasts. he closes his eyes before sucking on the surrounding flesh;

“guess i’ll be nice for once ‘nd show you just what it means to be my favorite so that you’ll never dare forget it again.”

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #jjk x you #jjk #jjk x y/n #sukuna x y/n

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cutielando · 2 months

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Hi lactation and breeding kink with max pls!!!!!

breeding | m.v.

warnings!!: smut, p in v sex, lactation kink, breeding kin, mentions of post-partum body insecurities

my masterlist

Max was absolutely feral about you.

He had thought that he couldn’t resist you before, when you were hot and sexy and all that he desired.

But then you got pregnant, and in his eyes, you were hotter and sexier 10 times over.

So sexy that he was thinking of knocking you up again, only a mere couple of months after you gave birth to your son.

You would be wary of that every time you would find a couple of alone moments, the thought of Max getting you pregnant again very present at the back of your mind.

This time was no different.

Your son had just gone down for his afternoon nap, and Max had found the perfect opportunity to love on his woman.

He had you sprawled on the bed underneath him, his shaft deep inside of you while his mouth was all over your chest. He was biting at the skin of your sensitive and full boobs, sucking every time his tongue would glide over your erect and leaking nipples.

"You look so fucking good" Max whispered against your boobs, making you moan and clench around his thick shaft.

"You feel so good" you whimpered out, your hands burying in the hair at the back of his head.

Max never failed to make you feel like the hottest woman in the world to him, especially since you struggled with your self-consciousness during your pregnancy.

But now, how could you not feel like the hottest woman when Max takes such good care of you?

"These tits are so fucking perfect. So full and plump, feeding our child and helping him grow" his attention was fully on your breasts now, his hips slightly slowing down but still thrusting deeply inside of you.

You couldn't form a single thought, the pleasure you were feeling blinding you to everything else. You had been so busy lately with your baby, you hadn't even felt the extent of your need for Max to just make love to you, fuck you like he used to.

Max was sucking on your nipples, pinching and twisting at them until he noticed droplets of milk squirting out of them, something which made him even harder inside of you, his cock swelling against your tight walls.

"This is so fucking hot" he murmured before his mouth dove to your nipples, sucking and sucking until he felt his mouth fill with your delicious milk, listening to your squeals and moans as you became stimulated from your pussy and nipples at the same time.

"Oh my God, Max" you moaned out, arching your back and pushing your boobs in Max's face.

He felt like he was in heaven. His cock was giving you the fuck of your life, his mouth was draining you of your milk and his fingers were now rubbing harsh circles on your clit, the coil inside of you threatening to burst at any moment.

Max's thrust sped up, his orgasm building faster than he had realized. His thumb was rubbing your clit and applying pressure, his mouth was not letting up on your boobs, and the combination just blindsided you as your orgasm ripped through your body, your walls fluttering against his cock which spurred his orgasm on, shooting ropes of cum deep inside of you against your cervix, your mixed moans echoing through the room.

As you slowly came down from your high, Max's soft cock was still buried deep inside of you, keeping his cum as deep as possible, while his mouth was sucking lazily on your boobs, the new taste of your milk already getting him addicted to tasting you.

"You're gonna get me pregnant again if we keep this up" you joked, feeling the vibrations of his chest against your as he looked up at you with mischief in his eyes.

"Oh, I'm counting on it"

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lxnarphase · 8 months

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━━ ❝ i'll give you the fire i keep inside ❞

up to the challenge : ⌞no nut november⌝ edition [ pt 2 - pt 3 - pt 4 ]

☾₊‧⁺...ft. : gojo satoru + geto suguru

☾₊‧⁺...cw : pussy eating, praise kink, begging, premature ejaculation, clothed sex, whiny reader (gojo), smug reader (geto), satoru overestimating himself, suguru 'just the tip' geto

☾₊‧⁺...synopsis : it's nowhere near november, but i need to write this. it's based off an old post of mine from 4 years ago! so, i have no excuse 🖤

✧ g. satoru lasts : 2 days

oh, satoru is so confident that he'll easily make it through the entirety of november. the moment he coos to you about how excited he is to participate in 'no nut november' as a challenge against suguru, he's walking around with his chest puffed out. however, he doesn't take into account that you'd be a little upset after he tells you, thinking you have to go a whole month without sex with your boyfriend. but everyone knows satoru is the best boyfriend, right? he'd neeeever let his pretty lil' mochi feel unsatisfied. so, on the second day of November, he's got you up on the kitchen counter, mouth buried between your thighs as he practically devours your cunt, messily licking and sucking at your clit as his eyes roll back just from the taste of you. after all, there's no way he'd lose this way!

it had only been two days since satoru had fucked you, how were you this wet and needy? you were dripping down his chin, soaking his fucking face, and god, he was in heaven. "c'mon, baby, grind that clit into my mouth," he fucking whines, kissing your pussy between slurps, hands holding you spread open for him to keep testing you. satoru's so hard, it hurts, his cock rubbing and twitching against the rough fabric of his sweatpants, but he couldn't touch, he wouldn't let himself. he'd be fine, all he needed was to make sure he made his baby cum. "hhf, 't-toru, 'toruuuu, i-i miss you, i miss youuu," you pitifully whine, pretty eyes filling with tears as you grew closer and closer to cumming all over his face. but just hearing you say that you miss him when it hasn't even been a fucking week almost makes satoru cum, almost. "baby, babyyy, don't say that shit," satoru whimpers, about to pull away from your dripping slit, dizzy from your words. but you don't let him, no, not when you're this close. with the cutest little huff, you look him right in his pretty blue eyes and grab a fistful of his hair, smashing his mouth right back against your cunt as you cry his name. and oh, the noise he lets out against your pussy feels so gooddd, feeling his tongue desperately licking up your cum. god, you were practically suffocating him. all that Satoru could process was you, you, you. jesus, he didn't think he'd be able to leave you alone the rest of the month, not when just going two days got you this desperate...he really was fucking you that good that you got addicted, huh? it's okay because honestly? he missed your pussy so fucking much. "'toru, satoruuu, p-please, i-i don't like this challenge anymore, miss when you stuff me w-with your cum," you whine as you ride out the last waves of your orgasm, giving him one last tug into your pussy so his mouth was right over your clit. have you always been this fucking whiny and demanding? god, satoru couldn't remember. but, you didn't realize how seriously all the tugging and those filthy, desperate words of yours would affect him. hell, he didn't know how badly it would affect him. once he separates himself from you, he's avoiding eye contact, and he's getting red. embarrassed. flustered. all it took was a quick glance down to see what the issue was. "b-baby, you...i just...how—" "'toru, did you cum in your pants?"

✧ g. suguru lasts : 2.5 weeks

the only reason suguru decided to participate in this was because satoru roped him into it. not that he didn't think he could do it, but because he knew satoru was going to lose against him. he's so thankful that you're nothing but supportive, eager for him to win this challenge with the promise of a reward of his choosing once he made it to December 1st. it's honestly not that hard. as long as he's able to still be affectionate with you, suguru is content. sure, sometimes he has to stop his imagination, but otherwise, he's fine. at least, that's until he comes home to you wearing the cutest purple thigh highs with little skulls on them. it starts off with suguru pulling you closer, making you stand between his legs as his hands rub up and down your plush thighs...but next thing you know, your legs are over his shoulders as he drags his cock up and down your slit.

"just—just the tip, okay? i can't put anymore in, princess." "suguruuuuu, just! put it in! stop teasing!" those pretty legs of yours would always be his downfall, suguru could never resist them. there wasn't anything even sexual about it, but just seeing how they squeezed your thighs so perfectly...he couldn't help himself. but if he only let himself put the tip of his dick inside that tight little hole of yours, he'd be fine...yeah, he just needed a small feel, and he'd be fine. without any more hesitation, suguru slowly sunk into your puffy pussy, letting out a shaky groan as his head fell down onto your shoulder. shit, shit, shit, it was only the tip, but you felt so good, too fucking good. "g-god, why's this cunt so wet and warm, baby? it's not fair," suguru hissed, lifting his head to look down to where you both were connected. "s'not my fault you wanted to do this dumb challenge," you hummed, a little smug smile on your face. "stop listenin' to satoru, you'll get stupid like him." it made him laugh, you were so amused by him barely holding himself together...and he couldn't blame you, he wasn't the type to break so easily... "s-suguruuu, wait, you said just the tip, that's—suguuuu!" suguru let out the most scandalized gasp when he realized his entire cock was being hugged by your soft, hot walls. it was so cute, though, how you tried to help him, to let him know so he didn't lose. such a sweetheart, weren't you? but, suguru was too far gone. he had slowly begun inching himself inside of you, not even realizing it until it was too late. not being able to stop his hips from moving, thrusting in and out of you, creating a little ring of cream around the base of his cock as his dick dragged against those soft spots inside you that made you keen his name. "oh, princess, angel, you're so sweet, you know that? s-shit, listen to that pussy...she missed this? she missed the feeling of her sugu inside? hm? fuuuck, fuck it, 'm-'m gonna give you what you need, baby, d-don't worry," he says in a needy rasp, pressing his forehead against yours, giving you a delirious little grin. yeah, suguru knew he was going to lose today...he'd be damned if he didn't cum all over this sweet cunt. all because of some stupidly cute socks.

#gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #geto suguru smut #geto smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #suguru smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #𖤐 ── lxnarworks.

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flowersforbucky · 2 months

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moth to a flame

bucky barnes x reader / winter soldier x reader

"I know you. even when I know nothing else, even when I don't know myself, I know you."

summary: bucky is triggered into the winter soldier during a mission and then goes MIA, until he seeks you out in the middle of the night.

warnings/tags: SMUT, canon divergence (bucky hasn't been successfully deprogrammed in this), kind of dub-con, language, some violence, reader is afab, no use of y/n, 18+ only, friends with benefits situation, angst with a happy ending

word count: 4.9k

“You've reached Bucky. I can't answer the phone right now but leave me a mess–”

You hang up before the voicemail recording finishes. You already knew he wasn't going to answer, just as he hasn't answered any of the other thirty-something times you've dialed his number over the course of the last few days. Or read any of the two dozen text messages.

The messages had stopped delivering and the calls had started going straight to voicemail almost two days ago at this point. And yet you still got your hopes up every time you checked your phone, only to be met with gut-wrenching, nauseating disappointment.

It had now been three days of this - not to mention picking your cuticles until they bleed, flipping back and forth between every news station on your TV in hopes (and fear) of seeing his name, a few collective hours of sleep each night, and too much Red Bull.

Just when you were thinking about trying to kick your caffeine addiction, too.

Three days of feeling completely and utterly helpless.

You place the phone back down on your coffee table, staring down at the thick, white cast encasing your left leg from your foot to just under your knee.

Useless.

You knew you were doing what you physically could - the spread of laptops and tablets on the table in front of you continuously supplying data from facial recognition programs across the United States.

Realistically, you knew he could be on the other side of the world by now, but that didn't stop you from checking. It was the only thing that you felt you had any control over right now.

But it wasn't enough. Not when Steve, Sam, Natasha, Sharon, and every other currently able-bodied team member are out scouring every safehouse and known former HYDRA base in the tri-state area while you're holed up in your apartment with a fractured fibula and a brain that won't let you stop reliving the moments before he went missing.

“This is as straightforward as it gets,” Steve re-assures you both for what felt like the dozenth time that day. “You'll be in and out in no time.”

“So straight-forward that you're going to hang back here while we do all the dirty work?” You joke as you make the final adjustments to your parachute.

“We've been monitoring this base for months,” he reminds you. “This place is as abandoned as they come. Get in, get the intel from the database, and get back to the jet.”

“And then blow the place to smithereens,” Bucky adds with a devious grin.

“And then blow the place to smithereens,” Steve agrees.

If only things had been as simple as he had expected.

You had a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach from the moment that you and Bucky landed on the ground outside of the HYDRA base. You told yourself that you were being irrational - but you couldn't shake the looming feeling that something was going to go wrong.

“See?” Bucky says after removing the USB drive from the computer. He sticks the device in the breast pocket of his tactical vest before edging you towards the desk. “Easy-peasy. You've been worried for nothing.”

“I have not been worried,” you deny, leaning against the edge of the desk. “This place is just old, and smelly, and creepy.”

Bucky takes a step closer to you so that there's no space left between you. He places his hands on the desk on either side of you, enclosing you.

“You think that I can't tell when you're nervous?” He says quietly, studying your face. You can smell a lingering hint of cool mint from his mouthwash. “That I haven't spent enough time learning your body to read you like an open book?”

Your thighs clench together and your nipples pebble at his words. You're almost embarrassed at how easily his voice, his scent, his closeness elicits a physical response from your body. Almost.

“What I think,” you murmur against his mouth. His hands come to grip your hips as he nudges your thighs open, standing between your legs. “Is you're crazy if you're thinking about trying to fuck me in an abandoned HYDRA warehouse.”

He exhales a dramatic sigh. “You can't blame me for trying.”

“I am relieved to know that you'd even want to do that here,” you say, hopping down from where you're perched on the desk. “I really think that shows you've processed your trauma–”

You're cut off by the room going completely dark. Every light, every computer, turns to black.

Bucky's flesh hand instinctively reaches to grab your wrist in the dark, tugging you to him.

“What the fuck,” he groans under his breath.

“We need to get out of–” you start to state the obvious but close your mouth when the computer that you and Bucky had retrieved the data from turns back on.

And then a computer to the right - and then across the room - and another to the right - and one to left - until every computer is on and showing the exact same screen. Bucky's hand grips yours so tightly that it borders on being painful.

Displayed on dozens of screens throughout the room is the face of a man. A man who you've never met, but recognize immediately.

“Zola,” Bucky whispers almost inaudibly.

“Sergeant Barnes,” Zola addresses him with a perverted smile. “Welcome home,” his voice pours from every computer speaker throughout the room and echoes off the walls.

“Steve?” You whisper urgently, clicking on the communication device hidden in your ear. “Steve, we've got a prob–”

“There's no use in that,” Zola interrupts you. “It's too late. They're almost here.”

The following sixty seconds were a jumbled blur that you were still trying to piece together in your mind.

You remember hearing the stream of words spoken in Russian.

Longing. Rusted. Seventeen.

You remember Bucky screaming at you to run, the sound of Steve's voice in your ear telling you that back-up was on the way and asking a dozen questions that you were too overwhelmed to respond to.

Daybreak. Furnace. Nine.

You remember begging Steve to hurry. You remember pleading with Bucky to come with you to try to get away; pleading with him to just look at you, just stay with you, help is coming -

Benign. Homecoming. One.

You remember the moment that Bucky went completely still as the room was infiltrated by HYDRA agents.

Freight car.

You knew that Bucky wasn't there anymore. You could sense it in his stance, in the way he wouldn't meet your eyes, in his silence.

Before you could say anything else to him, close to a dozen HYDRA agents came barreling towards you both. He charged through them, taking down one after the next with ease, until there were just a few left standing.

It was a side of Bucky you'd never seen. You thought that you had witnessed his strength, his agility, his determination, his ruthlessness working beside him in this field - but you then saw just how much he had been holding back.

He fled past the remaining few, out the door and down the hallway of the warehouse. The agents turned to follow him, forgetting about you - until you threw a knife directly into one's neck from behind.

Another agent shot at you, the blow hitting your bulletproof vest and sending you flying backwards onto hard cement.

Before you could catch your breath, there was a sharp cracking noise and a blinding pain radiating from your lower leg - but it was short lived.

The last thing you recall is the man's boot swinging towards your face.

You woke up some number of hours later, in a hospital bed with your temple throbbing and leg elevated in a cast.

“Hey,” a soft voice calls from your right. Natasha stands up from the singular chair in the room, both concern and relief evident across her features. “You're okay,” she begins to assure you. “You have a concussion and a fractured–”

“Where's Bucky?” You interrupt her, your voice scratchy. You clear your throat. “Is he okay? Did Steve find him? Did HYDRA get–”

“HYDRA didn't get him. Steve took care of the last of the agents after him,” she stops you from rambling. There's an immediate sense of relief wash over you.

“But we haven't found him yet,” she adds carefully. “Everyone is out searching for him now. You know we won't stop until–”

A gentle knock on your apartment door snaps you back to reality.

You freeze, your heart jumping to your throat. You stand as quickly as you can manage, grabbing your crutches propped up next to you on the couch.

“It's just me,” a feminine voice calls from the other side of the door. Your heart goes from your throat to your stomach. Not him.

“I'm sorry, I should have text you first,” Natasha continues. “But I brought you food. Street tacos from–”

You turn the deadbolt and unhook the chain lock before swinging the door open.

“You look–”

“Like hammered shit?” You finish for her, nodding your head towards the inside of the apartment as indication for her to come in.

“I was going to say exhausted,” she says, walking past you with a large paper sack of take-out food. Your stomach growls at the aroma - when was the last time you ate something more than a bowl of cereal or granola bar?

“Your favorite,” she tells you, placing the bag on the kitchen counter. “Extra salsa verde and lime wedges. Have you gotten any sleep recently?” Her eyes skim across the empty energy drink cans littered around the kitchen.

You maneuver yourself onto one of the barstools at the kitchen's small island, leaning your crutches on the edge of the counter.

“Yes,” you mumble. “For forty-five minutes from 2:30 to 3:15 today.”

She lets out a long groan, rolling her eyes at you.

“You're supposed to be healing from a concussion,” she reminds you, taking a seat for herself. “Which generally doesn't include sleep deprivation and excessive use of computer screens.” She stares in the direction of the array of laptops that overcrowd the limited space of your coffee table.

“Did you find anything in Connecticut? What about Sam, is he back from New Jersey?” You ask, ignoring her concerns as you unbox your food.

“Connecticut was a dead-end,” she sighs. “We're still waiting to hear back from Sam. There's a safehouse up in Vermont that Steve wants to head to tomorrow–”

“You don't think there's a chance of him letting me tag along for that, do you?” You tap the edge of your cast against the base of the island with your foot.

Her eyes soften as she looks at you. You already knew the answer.

“I know this is really hard for you,” she says delicately. “I may not know exactly what has been going on between you and Barnes these last few months, but it's obvious you care a lot for him. We all do. We are going to find him and bring him home,” she assures you.

You nod at her in agreement, not quite trusting your voice enough to speak.

Your eyes sting as you attempt to blink away the tears that threaten to spill over. You had yet to allow yourself to spend any time crying these last few days and you didn't wish to start now.

Her words remind you that no one knows exactly why you are taking Bucky's disappearance so harshly. You assume that your friends have their suspicions about your and Bucky's arrangement but the two of you had agreed to keep it between yourselves.

They didn't know it had started off being a weekly occurrence - late Sunday evenings, your apartment. Or how it had quickly escalated from once a week to twice, and then from two times a week to three - and instead of just your apartment, it would happen anywhere the two of you had a private (and sometimes public) moment - up against the wall of the communal showers at the compound's gym, in the back of the Quinjet after missions while everyone else would be sleeping on the flight back home, even during team meetings with his hand creeping between your thighs while you try to stay quiet enough to not draw any attention to yourselves.

They didn't know you were supposed to be friends with benefits but that at some point during the days and nights spent underneath one another, the line between friends and something more became blurry for you.

You had just been too chickenshit to tell him.

Natasha sits across from you as you inhale the Mexican food that she brought you. She doesn't say anything else, just keeps you company in a comfortable silence as you eat your first legitimate meal in days.

“Thank you,” you tell her as you're finishing your food. “I appreciate you. I've been going a little crazy here by myself,” you add meekly.

“Of course.” She stands back up. “I would stay longer, but I've got to prepare for Vermont. We're leaving early in the morning.”

“Be safe. All of you,” you remind her. “Let me know if you guys find anything. Just tell me if there's anything at all I can do. And please let me know when you hear from Sam–”

“You'll be the first to know when there's anything to know,” she assures you gently.

“Thanks, Nat.”

“You just try to get some rest, okay?” She requests as she walks toward the door. “Maybe drink some water, possibly consider taking a nice, long shower…”

“Goodbye, Natasha.”

She's chuckling as she closes the door behind her.

You lower your nose to your armpit as soon as the door clicks shut, inhaling.

Maybe she makes a valid point about showering.

Half an hour later, there's a heavy rain beating against the windows of your apartment when you finish bathing. You secure a towel around your chest before yanking off the garbage bag that you had wrapped around your cast well enough for you to rinse off.

Belly full and body clean, you felt somewhat better; at least physically.

You listen to the rain pound down as you sit on the edge of the bathtub, massaging lotion into your skin, and wonder where Bucky is right now - if he's safe, if it's raining wherever he's at, if he's somewhere dry -

You come to a sudden halt in the middle of brushing your teeth. It's hard to tell over the deafening roar of the rain and your bathroom fan, but you could have sworn you heard the creaking of a door or window from your living room.

I double checked the door locks after Nat left, you rationalize to yourself. This apartment is on the fourth floor, no one is going to climb the fire escapes to–

There's an unmistakable shadow visible through the crack at the bottom of the bathroom door. It's gone as quickly as it appears.

Shit. You start to panic as you realize you left your cell phone in the kitchen. As quietly as you can, you look around the small room for something to defend yourself with. A hair dryer, dental floss, a few week’s worth of dirty laundry..

You hear the creaking of floorboards as footsteps seem to creep closer and closer to the bathroom door.

Crutches. You have two crutches. You can clobber them with your crutches.

“I can hear you,” you call to whoever is just beyond the door. “I know you’re out there.”

Silence. No hint of any further movement.

You place one crutch under your left armpit for support, keeping the other one ready to wield as a weapon. “You have ten seconds to get out of my apartment,” you say a bit louder, willing your voice not to waver. “I have a weapon.”

Yeah, a weapon. If you can call it that.

Ten seconds come and go, followed by another ten seconds.

You weren’t going to let someone play this game with you in your own home.

Taking one last deep breath and tightening your grip on the defense crutch, you sling the bathroom door open quickly.

“Oh my god,” you exclaim, immediately relaxing your weight against the crutches, releasing the death grip that you had on your uninjured side.

It’s dark in your bedroom save for a few pale orange string lights hung around your bed frame and the light that spills in from the bathroom, but you would recognize his broad frame anywhere.

“Thank fuck you’re okay,” you exhale, swinging yourself over to where he stands at the foot of your bed. When you’re a little over a foot away from him, you realize he’s sopping wet - his hair dripping water droplets and his skin dewy. His clothing, the same clothing that you last saw him in three days ago, clings to his body like a second skin.

He remains still as a statue, and as silent as one.

“Are you okay?” You ask him apprehensively. You give him a once over, from head to toe. You don't see any noticeable injuries, but he is trembling.

“Bucky?” You ask in a small voice.

His lips are set in a hard line. He doesn't answer, just stares at you. Stares at you like he’s trying to figure out why he’s here.

Stares at you like he’s trying to decide if he knows you or not.

The immense relief that you had felt at knowing he's alive is washed away by a sinking feeling.

His eyes trail from your face and slowly down your towel-clad body. He pauses when he gets to your foot, glancing back and forth from your cast to the crutches on either side. His brows furrow together - almost like he's in pain.

“I'm okay,” you assure him in a shaky voice. “It's just a fracture,” you explain. “I'll be healed in no time.”

You notice that his features relax a bit at your words - just enough to give you hope that Bucky, your Bucky, is in there and he's listening to you.

Do whatever you have to do to keep him here. Don't let him out of your sight. Help him remember who he is, your inner monologue screams at you. Just don't let him run away again.

“Are you cold?” You ask him. You're not necessarily expecting him to answer, you're just trying to put him at ease. “How about we get you some dry clothes?” You add, nodding towards his drenched henley.

You retreat into the bathroom, grabbing a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that he'd left over the last time he had stayed the night - the night before he went missing. They were at the top of the laundry basket - maybe not the cleanest, but better that the wet, dirty clothing he's in currently.

You limp your way back over to where he stands at your bed, leaning against the mattress for support. You set your crutches down and hand him the shirt and pants, which he hesitantly accepts. He makes no move to remove the wet clothes from his body, instead gently places the dry clothes onto the mattress beside him.

“Would you like some help?” you offer cautiously, terrified of doing anything that could cause him to run. You slowly reach towards the clothing that he had just placed on the bed, but he stops you before you can pick the t-shirt back up - grasping your wrist in his vibranium hand.

You can’t stop the small gasp that escapes past your lips. His hold on you is firm, but not painful. You could rip your hand from him if you wanted to - but you don’t.

Instead, you let him hold your hand as he begins to rub his metal thumb in a circular motion next to yours. You’re frozen; watching him carefully as he examines the movements his metal digit makes on your skin.

The goosebumps that appear in the wake of his touch don’t go unnoticed by him. His eyes trail from where his hand holds yours and up the expanse of your arm, until they land on your exposed neck. The towel covering your midsection has started to come loose, hanging low enough to reveal the top of your breasts.

He drops your hand, taking a step closer to you. You have to remind yourself to breathe - your Bucky is in there. Your Bucky, who is gentle, and soft, and would never do anything to cause you harm.

You have to trust that.

He brings his vibranium fingers up to the edge of the towel, trailing them across the mounds of your breasts. Your nipples harden right away, visible through the thin material of the towel.

You would let this play out however he wants it to. However he needs it to.

When his index finger stops where the towel is tucked into itself at your side, you forget how to breathe. He pauses for a split-second before unhooking the cloth and letting it fall to your feet.

He drinks in the sight of you bare before him, his jaw clenched and pupils dilated.

Dozens of times he has seen you like this, and never have you felt so completely vulnerable under his gaze.

And still there's a slickness gathering at the apex of your thighs.

He brings his flesh hand to your waist, putting the faintest bit of pressure against your skin. You close your eyes at the sensation - he's barely fucking touching you and you could melt into him.

Your name falls off of his lips - it's barely even a whisper, nearly inaudible but unmistakable. Your name. He remembers your name.

“Bucky,” your voice cracks when you whisper his own name back to him. His eyes snap up to yours, a mix of realization and hesitation brewing in them.

You bring both of your hands to the tail of his wet shirt, giving him time to pull away before you start to tug the shirt upwards. He doesn't stop you - in fact, he raises his own arms to help you tug the soaked fabric off of him. You toss the shirt in the general direction of your bathroom.

You didn't think there would ever come a time that the sight of him getting naked for you wouldn't make you want to drool.

You unsnap the button of his tactical pants, keeping your eyes on his face the whole time, hyper-analyzing his expression for any sign of reluctance.

You dip your fingers past the waistband of his boxers, his eyes fluttering closed as your hand travels lower.

He's already fully hard as you hold him, stroking him as best you can from inside the confines of his underwear and pants. You pump him in your hand and his head rolls back so that he's looking up at your ceiling.

Fuck, it takes all the restraint you possess to resist leaning forward and sucking on his neck.

Another time, you tell yourself, anxious about overwhelming him.

He curses under his breath - something in Russian that you don't recognize but the expression on his face indicates it to be a praise. There's a shift in his initially reserved, unsure demeanor when you begin to pump him faster.

His head snaps back down, his eyes raking up and down your body once more before he brings his hands to your lower back, maneuvering you against the bed.

You scoot until your back comes in contact with the cool satin of your pillows, relaxing into the bedding. At last Bucky begins to shed the layers of wet clothing covering his lower half, not taking his eyes off of your body as he removes his boots, followed by his pants and boxers.

He kneels on the mattress, crawling above where you lay. You want nothing more than to grab him by the shoulders and pull his mouth to yours, but you are going to let him call the shots.

He nudges your thighs apart with his knee, nestling himself between your legs. He grasps your breast in his vibranium hand, giving it a firm squeeze before rolling your nipple between his icy fingers.

He lowers himself so that he's belly down on your mattress, his face inches away from your pussy. He removes his hand from your breast and you let out a small whimper of disappointment at the abrupt lack of sensation. He uses that same hand to hike your uninjured leg over his shoulder, securing his head between the soft interior of your thighs.

He kisses you, starting at your belly button and working his way to your center. His lips feel like fire against your skin. You keep your hips planted firmly on the bed, fighting the urge to thrust your pussy up to his face.

“Please,” you whine. “Bucky, please.” You swear you can see the faintest trace of a smirk that looks so undeniably Bucky.

You clench your thighs around his face and he lets out a low, guttural groan as his mouth makes contact with you.

Normally, Bucky closes his eyes while he's going down on you - gets completely lost in it. Right now, his eyes are wide open - making sure he doesn't miss the way your mouth gapes when he rolls his tongue around your clit and the way your chest heaves when he nudges his tongue inside you.

You don't know which you find hotter.

You can already feel the tightening of a coil in your lower belly, making it impossible to resist rolling your hips to meet the torturous pace he's set with his tongue. You grind against his face, the thin layer of stubble that's grown across his jaw since you last saw him scratching against the sensitive flesh around your cunt.

You're approaching your climax when he pulls away, making you mewl at the loss of contact. His face glistens with your slick.

He flips you onto your side, placing you on your left side so that your injured leg rests against the mattress. You prop your head up with your hand as he slides in behind you.

His chest presses against your back, the heat of his body warming you all over. His flesh hand juts between your thighs, raising your right leg high enough for him to slap his cock against your pussy.

He strokes himself in his hand while he teases your folds - lubricating himself with your juices.

You turn your head to look at him right as he sheaths himself inside you, filling you entirely in one swift motion.

Fuck, you have to taste yourself on him. You can't handle not having his mouth on yours for another second.

You tilt your head back enough to connect your mouth to his - every worry you once had about coming on too strong and overwhelming him melts away as he opens his mouth for you, moving his lips against yours in an effortless rhythm.

He starts slow, quickly working up to a rapid pace as he repeatedly slams into your cervix from the sweetest angle. The sounds that you're making for him are pornographic - moaning into his mouth as his flesh hand comes around your front, landing on your engorged clitoris. He rubs languid circles while he continues to pound into you from behind.

You pull your lips away from his when you feel your orgasm building. “You always make me feel so good, you know that?” You ask him breathily, your mouth now right next to his ear.

“Every time you fuck me, I'm more sure that no one could ever compare to you. You've ruined me for everyone else. There’s only you for me.”

“Fuck,” he curses and groans your name again - it's the closest he's sounded to his normal self, which only spurs you on.

“I’ve become so fucking addicted to you in such a short amount of time,” you say in between moans as the head of his cock hits your sweet spot just right. “Think about you anytime you're not near me, drives me fucking crazy.”

He flips you - doesn't pull out - so that you're now underneath him. He goes right back to the same brutal pace, bringing his flesh hand to cradle your face as he stares down at you.

Clarity - you recognize it plain as day on his features.

He gives you a few more fast, hard thrusts before you're milking his cock through your orgasm. You crash your lips to his and he's coming - filling you up with his warm seed as he kisses you senseless.

He gradually stills inside you, his body going limp on top of yours as he rests his face in the crook of your neck. You wrap your arms around him, peppering kisses across his scarred shoulder, where flesh meets metal.

“I'm so sorry if I scared you,” he murmurs against the sweat-slicked skin of your throat after a moment. “I wasn't myself. Not even entirely sure how I ended up here - it's like I was pulled in this direction - to you,” he sighs.

You're overcome with such an immense relief at hearing him speak that you could cry. You tighten your hold around him, rubbing your hands up and down his back.

“You could never scare me, Bucky,” you assure him. He pulls out of you, rolling off of you onto the bed beside you and tugging you to his chest. Your cheek rests just over his heart.

"I know you. Even when I know nothing else, even when I don't know myself, I know you."

♡♡♡♡♡

my masterlist

thanks for reading! as always comments and reblogs are extremely appreciated!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one-shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction

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tonycries · 8 months

Text

Exes who…

Synopsis. Showing up to a party looking like that. What's a man to do when he just can't stay away?

Pairing. Multiple x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, desperate boys, unprotected sex, NSFW, cunnilingus, pet names (my girl, babe), swearing.

Word count. 1.0k

A/N. This was supposed to be shorter, sorry lovelies. Art by @_3aem on Twitter.

Exes who know they should stay away, but one whiff of your perfume at some dingy party and he’s dragging you to the nearest bathroom.

He’s pathetic, he knows, but right now he couldn’t give less of a fuck as he spreads you on that bathroom counter and dives face-first into your dripping cunt.

Greedily lapping at your juices, the taste of your pussy on his tongue was so addictive. Fuck, he missed this so much.

He feels feral. Groaning lowly at the tug of your hand on his hair which hurts so good. He flicks his tongue harshly over your throbbing clit. More. He needs more.

“Hah- Fuck- Feels so good!”

“Yeah, jus’ like that, my girl.”

Making out with your pussy was almost as addictive as fucking you. You were a drug he couldn’t let up - he couldn’t get enough of.

Nose-deep in your cunt, he tastes you over and over the way he imagined when he fucked his fist on those lonely nights.

Fingers digging into your thighs, he moves your legs so that they wrap around his head, bringing him impossibly closer to your hot core. He breathes over it - teasing - mouth watering at the sight of it getting wetter just for him.

He’s pretty sure your sinful moans and the squelching sounds could be heard above the overplayed pop on the other side of the door. Good, let them hear. It’ll teach that scrub outside that was eyeing you a thing or two about what he can’t have.

“Hngh- Baby, I’m gonna-”

Once you cum around his tongue, hips bucking wildly and clit catching on his nose as you ride his face, he thinks he’d be happy to die here if it was in-between your legs.

A final peck to your quivering cunt - not a goodbye, no, he’ll be seeing this pretty pussy again - but a prelude for what was to come.

Amidst heated kisses, he lets you taste yourself on his tongue as he hurriedly unbuckles his belt. Fucking trousers - they come with too many fucking buttons. He wants to feel you now. Have your wet cunt pulsing around his painfully hard cock as he gets drunk off of your pretty moans.

So he does.

He only has his flushed tip kissing your folds, but already feels like he’ll fucking pass out. He teases your entrance - willing himself to wait like he did all these past few months. This won’t be the last time - he knows - but he sure as hell is going to treat it like it is.

“Tell me what you want, my sweet girl.” he huffs out, eyes boring into your dazed ones. Beautiful. You were always so beautiful.

“Please. I need you in me so bad.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Please, baby.”

Your lustful whimpers are what makes him snap. You were going to be the death of him.

Fully sheathing himself in you, he fucks your pussy with a merciless cadence that has your nails digging into his shoulder at how painfully good you were stretched. Tight. So tight.

He feels himself losing his sanity as your cunt struggles to adjust to his size, walls clenching down on his throbbing erection. It’s animalistic - the way your pussy tries to suck him back in when he pulls out fully, only to ram inside you again.

“Shit- Pussy made jus’ for me. Only me.” he moans.

One strong arm steadying himself on the counter, and the other with an almost-painful grip on your hip, he keeps up a pace that has his abs burning. Heavy balls stinging as they smack relentlessly against your ass.

He bites down on your exposed neck to muffle the strangled groans ripping from his throat at the ethereal feel of your snug cunt - he needs to better drink in your fucked out yelps at his harsh thrusts.

His dick twitches inside when you start whining out his name as you reach closer and closer to your climax. He could do this forever. You were heaven on Earth.

In his hazy mind, he distinctly registers the jingle of the doorknob. Annoying fuckers can’t take a hint.

“Fuck off.” he barks out, “I’m fuckin’ my future wife in here.”

His heart clenches as you push your face into the crook of his neck in embarrassment. Pulling you closer to him in response - strings of slick and precum connecting you to him - he hopes whoever’s there up above strikes him down if he doesn’t wife you up.

Ah…he’s so close.

There isn’t even a hair’s breadth between your two bodies as he fucks into you mindlessly, not even a trace of thought for the poor soul on the other side of the door. He’s got more important things to do - you.

“Baby- Shit. I’m so close.” your exhausted mewls are music to his ears. His balls tighten and cock aches for release.

Teeth clenched and brows furrowed at how your walls were fluttering around him so perfectly, he grits out “Me too, my girl. Me too.”

Your legs tighten around his toned waist as your cunt clamps down on his thick length - sending both of you over the edge.

He sees stars as he cums. Thick ropes painting your walls white and shaky whimpers of your name leaving his mouth like a prayer. You really were heaven on Earth.

Cum drips down the side when he slows down to shallow grinds of his hips, fucking his cum deeper and deeper into you. He releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he pulls his sensitive cock out of you.

With a long finger, he gathers the cum now slowly dripping out of you. Pooling it at his fingertips before popping them into his mouth, half-lidded eyes looking right into your fucked out ones. He moans around them as if tasting a delicacy, elated at the way your mouth drops in disbelief at his lewd act.

He feels barely lucid as he snaps your panties back on you with a devilish grin and tucks himself back into his trousers.

Unlocking the door to pointed looks he couldn’t care less about, he can’t keep his eyes off the alluring curve of your hips as you walk away back to the party - pretending like his cum isn’t making a mess of your panties right now.

Dick twitching to life again, he pulls out his phone - unblocking you once more.

– GOJO, Choso, Geto, Suna, ATSUMU, KUROO, Oikawa, Sakusa, JEAN, EREN

A/N. …Gimme a min I’m cooking up something for Suguru…

Plagiarism not authorized.

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ponderingmoonlight · 9 months

Text

Gojo buying (y/n) souvenirs after every mission and finding out she kept EVERYTHING

Pairing: Gojo x reader (fem!pronouns)

Word Count: 1,2k

Synopsis: Since your joyful smile is so addictive, Satoru can't help but buy you a souvenir every time he goes on a mission. After a few months, he realizes by accident that you do, in fact, keep everything he gifts you...

Warnings: this is fluffness overload so be prepared, (y/n) has a really bubbly and Mitsuri-like personality, let me know what you thiiiiink and enjoy your holidays🤍

Your heart jumps up and down in joy, feet carrying you down the hallway at lightspeed. Finally he’s back. How long has it been since you’ve last seen him? Definitely too long.

“Satoru!”, you cry out.

There he stands, his arms already wide open while wearing the casual sly grin you adore so much. You can’t contain yourself any longer, your giggles filling his very own heart with nothing but joy.

Satoru doesn’t remember exactly how it all started. After some random mission, he saw a little figure of your favourite animal standing innocently in a show window. He didn’t think much of it, bought it only because it reminded him of you. But oh, you were so joyful back then.

“Are you kidding me?”, you breathed out, glossy eyes staring at the pretty ugly figure so heartfelt that Satoru couldn’t help but shamelessly stare at you.

“It reminded me of you since I know it’s your favourite animal, so yeah…You like it?”

“Like it?”

You grabbed his hands with so much passion that he almost fell backwards, jumping up and down in delight.

“I love it, Satoru! This is probably the nicest thing someone ever did for me!”

It was inevitable from there on. The urge to see your heartfelt joy after every mission became an obsession, forcing him to look into every window, into every shop on the haunt for something you might like. To be honest it made everything more bearable. The loss of his best friend, the people around him dying, all the things that keep him up at night seem to disappear when he’s looking for souvenirs to bring you.

And this.

You almost knock him over by the way you let yourself fall into his arms, hands intertwined behind his back just the way he likes it. Oh, your smell is so intoxicating, as well as your gorgeous appearance sends warm shivers down his spine. How is it even possible that you seem to get more and more breath-taking every time he sees you?

“I was so worried about you! Why didn’t you answer your calls?”, you mumble against the fabric of his uniform, instantly greeted by the singing smell of curses.

“Oh y’know, I had to do a little work from now and then. Like killing off some demons and saving a whole town from getting wiped out. So sorry I didn’t call you back”, he teases you gently.

“That didn’t stop me from getting something for you, though…”

Your eyes widen in sheer excitement, head darting towards him instantly.

“No, you didn’t”, you mutter, lips already forming the most adorable smile.

“Heck yeah I did.”

“I told you over and over that you don’t need to do that, Satoru!”

“Do you like them?”

You bite your lip in a miserable attempt to suppress the wide grin that creeps up your face, cheeks turning the shade of pink that makes Satoru lose his mind. You are so breath-taking, so pure that it warms his heart.

“Of course I do”, you mumble into your hand.

“There you go.”

He hands you a small box, the brush of his tender touch against your hand sending electricity right through your body. With trembling fingers, you open the light blue ribbon wrapped around it, exposing a simple yet stunning necklace. You desperately try to hold back tears, so moved that you are utterly speechless.

This necklace isn’t this simple. No, engraved into it in Satoru’s iconic handwriting, it says “every thought, you”.

“You can’t be serious about this, Satoru. I really don’t deserve this.”

“You deserve this and even more, (y/n). Do you like it?”

“You ask me if I like it?”, you repeat breathless.

Your finger brushes over the engraving carefully, feeling every curve and every stroke of his elegant hand writing. This must have been expensive – way too expensive for a simple souvenir. But oh how much you love it already, you’ll keep this close to your heart day in and day out.

“I love it. Thank you so much.”

There’s no time to waste. With a swift motion you lunge yourself at him all over again, burying your face against his broad chest. You truly don’t deserve his kindness, his affection. What an outstanding man he is, so tender that it makes you tear up.

“I’d do anything to make you smile”, he mutters into your hair, hands stroking your back ever so gently.

Smile…Oh, you almost forgot!

“Would you…Would you mind coming to my dorm for a second? There’s something I want to give you as well.”

You wipe your tears away unladylike, your hand grabbing his before he’s even able to answer your question.

“Something you want to give to me? Remember when I told you you don’t have to buy me anything?”

“Remember when I told you the same?”, you remark with a slight grin, literally dragging him into your room.

In fact, you stumbled upon this cute figure of a white cat the other day. There was no way you’d leave without buying it, not when it reminded you so much of him.

You swing your drawer open without thinking twice, grabbing the cute little cat with your face glowing in proud.

“Okay, now that’s adorable”, Satoru laughs gently.

Somehow, his eyes get stuck on your drawer though. It looks messy, almost flooding over with all the pieced cramped into it. But no, that isn’t some random rubbish. That figure that stands in the middle of it, it looks so familiar. As well as all those letters, the sweets, the postcards…

It dawns to him, heart skipping a beat. These are all the souvenirs he brought you over the last few years.

“Don’t tell me you kept everything I gave you.”

Oh, please tell him you did.

“Huh?”

Your innocent eyes dart towards the drawer behind you, your cheeks instantly heating up all over again.

“Oh…of course I kept them! Why would I ever throw them away?”

“You even kept the packages of the sweets from last months…”

His heart almost overspills with love. You have to be an angel, too pure and kind for this world. Just one look into your tender eyes is enough to sweep him off his feet, the little cat he holds in his hand sending him over the edge.

“I just love to get reminded of you I guess.”

“And I love you, (y/n). You have to be the most precious human being I’ve ever met.”

The way your eyes widen and your mouth shoots open is priceless. You look so utterly surprised that he can’t help but chuckle while wrapping his strong arms around you all over again.

“Y-you, loving me?”, you stutter.

“Well, I was hoping you’d love me too-“

“I do”, you interrupt him immediately.

“I love you more than any souvenir!”, you babble out.

“That’s what a man needs to hear”, he laughs softly.

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @chilichopsticks

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nouearth · 3 months

Text

red right hand.

pairing. henry cavill x male reader.

word count. 7.3k.

summary. if there was one thing to give your dad credit for (other than helping create your very existence), it was that he has an insanely hot best friend. it was a universal admiration your neighborhood shared with one another. though, how many actively feasted upon their fantasies regarding that hunk of a man? probably only you, because mr. cavill was more than a crush, he was an addiction. and on one summer day, mr. cavill realized that so were you.

content warning. college!reader, dad's best friend!henry, neighbor!henry, age gap, blowjob (r!giving), degrading, throat-fucking, choking, gagging, spitting, kissing, humiliation, body and muscle worship, rough-play, size difference, dirty talk, verbal, praising, size kink.

The warm wind fanned the sweat off your forehead when you slid your window open. The ledge stained your fingers with particles of dust. Grimacing at the fuzz and simultaneous stickiness, it also provoked a storm of laziness as steel reminders from your dad got caught up in the commotion: CLEAN THE HOUSE.

CAR MAINTENANCE.

STOP ORDERING TAKE-OUT AND COOK.

SORT THE ATTIC.

TIDY GARAGE.

CHECK STOVE IGNITIONS BEFORE LEAVING THE HOUSE.

LOCK THE DOORS.

Ya-dah, ya-dah…

Honestly, how could you check-off any of these tasks with this heatwave currently going on? You were sweating bullets, been sweating enough to bathe in your own salt for days now—which you technically were already doing. It was summer, the long-awaited season after the agony of allergies. A temporary relief to your studies as well, until the humidity hit you like a truck and made you realize that living back in a dorm wasn’t so bad.

At least the building had a functional air-conditioner.

“Uh-huh, yep.” Your dad’s voice was going in one ear and out the other as you rummaged through your cabinets for a snack. Cereal; stale. Canned meat; too heavy. Potato chips; not heavy enough. “Dad, you know you’ve gone on business trips before, right? This isn’t the first time I’ve been alone.”

“I know, but I’m just making sure. It’s a new house, and I’ve been watching these true crime documentaries about men leaving clubs and—“

“Well, the first mistake was going to a sketchy club in the first place…” You muttered, peering into the fridge, and then lingering, because refrigerator air has never felt so cooling against your skin. You duck your head to puzzle yourself into the cold box, dumbfounded that the heat had gotten you irritated enough to claim a bag of deli meat as your bunkmate for the time being. The sound of your dad’s frustrated sigh on the other line curled your frown into a smile, and you laughed, “I’m a big boy. Stop worrying, and go enjoy—Ow!“ You bumped your head against the door on your way out.

“How can I not worry when you just referred to yourself as a ‘big boy?’ Not even a man?!” You never realized how theatric the man was. It was like his presence never left the house, exaggerated hand movements and all wafting the smell of his homemade meals whenever he would scold you in his favorite place: the kitchen. You smiled at the fond memories.

“Good point—“ Though they were made at your old house, you were sure that once he’d returned, your dad wouldn’t be opposed to creating new memories of scolding your ass off on whatever trouble you’d get into. If you do, that is. You’ve grown since then, finding yourself too tired to socialize.

“Remember, spare key’s in the birdhouse. There’s a compartment at the side of it. Hopefully birds haven’t evolved enough to pick it open.”

“If they have, they’d be picking at our locks right now to kidnap me and probably feast on my body.” Luckily, the fridge was stocked before your dad had left. You crucified him for being overly-prepared at times, but for this month, it was an exception. You picked at a slice of deli meat and cheese, and stuffed it down your mouth.

“Not funny, (M/N).”

“I’m kidding, Dad. Lighten up! I know you’re nervous about presenting, but they invited you to talk to an audience for a reason. They like you. Just be yourself, and remember not to speak so fast. Have some water on standby too.” And speaking of the devil, you gulped down a glass of iced water to cool down your body as your dad chuckled in your ear.

“I know, I know, thanks.” A muffled sound on the other end filled the silence, sounds of people passing and cars honking passing through your ear. “Alright, my ride’s here. I’ll call as soon as I get to the hotel, okay? You better answer—Oh! I forgot to tell you! Henry’s coming over later to look at the car.”

“Henry—Oh, Mr. Cavill? He’s in the neighborhood?” The name rattled a familiar feeling inside of your stomach. Something rather warm, suddenly ravenous when you thought about the last time you saw him.

“Actually, he was the one that told me about this house! He lives down the street. But tool’s in the garage if he asks for them, okay?”

“Y-yeah, okay. Got it.” You hadn’t seen him many times. Only when you’d come home from semester breaks, yet the mere mention of his name had you flustered as if he was a long-lost friend or something.

“Okay, gotta go. Love you, and remember, lock your doors! Bye!”

“I will! Bye…” Your phone blinked back to your previous app after ending the call.

You knew he was your dad’s best friend; a divorced father and a bachelor unsurprisngly made a match in heaven.

He was someone that shared your father’s interest in tabletop games and comic books. A replacement for yourself you thought earlier on, but he was way more knowledgeable about those interest than you ever were. You grew up on your dad’s nostalgia. For Mr. Cavill and your dad? These memories altered them who they would be in the future.

He was a friend that would help your dad out on building projects, like that birdhouse he had mentioned. He was a charming man that built the PC you currently use after hearing you complain about the previous laptop you had. And best of all, his looks were as abundant as his kindness. Standing over six feet tall, with a chiseled face that matched an equally sculpted body; he’d been a little crush since you first met him, being the only man who was capable of rendering you utterly speechless.

And in present, the only man who had the power to tighten your briefs and shorts with only a passing thought of his body; muscular and athletic in all the right places. If only your dad could somehow muster up a beach day before summer ended. Either way, the image of his bare body excited you, the blood flow immediately rushing south in agreement. Your dick kissed your shorts at the thought water cascading off his hulking body like meltwater over an ice shelf, freezing you in your place to not-so-subtly gawk.

“Jesus…” Your body couldn’t catch a break, could it? With the ramping heat and the constant sweating, your erection only added fuel to the bonfire that was the pores of your skin. Your cock pulsed madly within the constraint of your briefs, teasing yet begging to be released, to be sheathed from its slick, because it knew you had the key to its relief.

Or rather, Mr. Cavill did.

It was pathetic. You’d been at this for a year now. As much as you were unfamiliar with Mr. Cavill’s disposition, it was certainly the opposite regarding his physical appearance. Though it hadn’t exactly occur to you when this crush of yours had been tiptoeing along the lines of obsession.

Wait, was it an obsession..? No, no, it was just a crush.

You hadn’t done anything wrong. All you had done was browse through his social media—he did follow you, and you mutually pursued—and stalked—no—scrolled through his posts. Thank god, he was an avid poster. Pictures of his selfies, his knack for grilling, his love for his pet dogs, his pride over his geeky hobbies, his friendship with your dad and mutual buddies—all of these pieces attributed to allowing you to get to know him more as you were rotting away on campus, missing life back at home. Like clockwork, looking at his feed brought a sense of comfort, a hope that maybe you could be part of his life as well.

“God, what I’d do to ride that mustache…” You blurted out your thoughts, hyper-aware that you were alone in the house. You’d been waiting for this. You’d been surrounded by your roommates 24/7, and then once break started, your dad wanted to insert himself into your schedules as much as he could before the next semester starts.

As much as you loved them, you needed space. A space bigger than the privacy of your own room. You deserved the whole house to yourself after enduring months of agony from overdue assignments; stress from bickering roommates that led to chaos within the dorm. You haven’t jerked off properly in months, often resorting to a quick session that comforted you on the occasions you’d have to pull multiple all-nighters to get a project done.

You needed relief.

You needed pleasure.

“Fuck,” Your eyes had been fixated on Mr. Cavill’s social media feed as you stripped yourself free of clothing. On one hand, it helped your body cool off from the heat building in the house. On the other, you felt vulnerable, like someone could walk in on you any second, and god, was that a turn-on.

A grid of his life displayed happily before you, and your thumb scrolled aimlessly in pursuit of multiple pictures ingrained in your brain that had your cock throbbing in your palm. You laid flat on the couch, earbuds fit snug in the canals after briefly switching apps to play your favorite porn in the background of your search. Your stomach sunk deep when the man began moaning in your ears. Hot like the blistering sun outside; you can imagine Mr. Cavill breathing against you like that, as you took his cock in like the video you had playing. Your balls pulled when the man grunted, “Right there,” and you couldn’t help but pull at the ache of your cock, then at your balls to fondle at the loose stretch of skin.

“Right there,” you repeated when your thumb paused at the desired video of Mr. Cavill. Another major part of his lifestyle was working out. Strength training, cardio, marathons. You name it, Mr. Cavill did it all, exceptionally well, and the crème de la crème of it all was that he bared his torso for most of his videos. “Fuck, you’re so big… Fuck, fuck…”

It was like watching a warrior prepare for battle. Sweat dripped off the holiest parts of his body as he pumped his muscles with heavy weights. Grunts, heavy and lewd sounds filled your ears while Mr. Cavill powered through his body’s resistance. You wondered to yourself if he could take you like that. Force you to take him with brute strength like the weights in his muscular, veiny hands. You were stroking yourself to him, every part of him, palm slick with sweat and spit. Two fingers would get the job done, stretching you out in preparation for his cock. Though, you knew deep down that it would take more than that. Three, or maybe even four, considering the hunk of a man was seemingly built from metal. The video replayed multiple times before you remembered that he had more than enough content for you to jerk off to. You were barely five minutes in, but this was already more pleasurable than whatever you had endured back at the dorms. Your cock felt pleased, spitting out dribbles of thick pre-cum that loosened the stick of your palm as donation to your generosity.

“Fuck, Henry…” You rarely referred to him by his first name. It felt unusual. You were much younger than him. Addressing someone closer to your dad’s age felt rude, like you were trying to assert your dominance despite your age difference. You were many things, but disobedient was not one of them. However, you couldn’t lie. His name felt polishing to your tongue, something that could improve the taste of dreadful meals if one were to whisper it before taking a spoonful.

His name felt like a miracle.

Your sexual appetite was nourished by the frames of Mr Cavill’s second video. He was completely unaware he was bulging, free-balling in his sweaty shorts while he pursued his vitality through jumping jacks, lunges, toe-touches—cardio galore that made his heavy cock bounce in rhythm. You could tell he was large, gifted with insane girth to the point where you could make out the shape of his cock just from him stretching. And the smell; sweat sticking on thick curly hairs on his chest, and a happy trail that seemed to promise a world of musk if you ever had an opportunity to endeavor upon your curiosities. You were practically salivating for him, saliva pooling where your tongue sank, while your cock leaked. You pumped yourself quicker and harder at the frustration that your desire to taste Mr. Cavill’s cock would remain a pipe dream.

All that left you was your imagination, and your own musk. Pulling up at your glans, you squeezed out thick loads of pre-cum before swiping it with your thumb and tasting it off with a suck. Salty, bitterly pleasant on your tongue, and satiated enough to not let your libido falter at the disappointment that it wasn’t Mr. Cavill’s pre-cum, but rather smolder.

“Oh, fuck my mouth… I need that cock, Mr. Cavill. Please—“ The frames of the third video showcased him flexing his arms and torso. His body bursted with pride, veins surging through every fiber of muscle like they were charging him and his very existence. It was veiny too, wasn’t it? His cock. Large and veiny, like how you’d like it. You would struggle fitting him inside of your mouth while his cock veins pulsed with great pleasure knowing that it was Mr. Cavill’s kink that you couldn’t take him.

No one could.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—“ Your eyes rolled back. The slurping sounds from the porn increased by tenfold as you pumped the volume by a few decibels. Lewd, slick sounds you wished you could perform on Mr. Cavill himself violated your ear drums. Pleasure him. Thank him on your knees for being so kind to your father. For building your PC without compensation. For providing you temporarily relief while you were away on campus, and could only jerk off under the blanket. You were grateful for him. For Mr. Cavill. For his thick arms. For his veiny forearms. For his dashing good-looks. For his muscles. For his strong cock. You’d give yourself to him if you could. Worship every inch of his step, every inch of his body, and that still wouldn’t be enough to show your appreciation towards him.

Your fist tightened. Your other hand had grown limp by now, dropping your phone to the floor by mistake, but you were too fixated on the pleasure your cock was receiving to retrieve it back. You could watch it from where you were laying, just like this, slickly twisting and pumping your cock to the sound of the porn, to the sound of Mr. Cavill grunting simultaneously as if his thick cock was being feasted on like a hungry beast. “Mr. Cavill, please—I’m going to—“

One earbud slipped from the sweat building on your body, but you were close. So fucking close to coming. And when you do, you’d come on your phone.

All over Mr Cavill’s pecs. His abs. His crotch. His face. Anywhere, as long as it was your friendly neighbor, because—

“Enjoying yourself, (M/N)?”

A voice from behind you alerted your body to jolt and whip around upon instinct to defend yourself. Naked or not, you weren’t going to die, not in the hands of a burglar.

Though, as soon as you did, you regretted it. You felt like stone. Cold, hard stone as all signs of life seemingly felt like it had been sucked dry out of your body, with your erection taking up most of the produce surprisingly as you confronted the intruder.

The six-feet, muscular, handsome, and familiar man of an intruder.

“M-Mr. Cavill?! What—When did you—“ You were flustered. Radiant heat blooming like the season of Spring across several patches of your naked body. It also didn’t help that your porn could be heard from earbuds once you took the remaining one out, albeit a bit muffled. And your phone, it was facing the ceiling, looping the video of Mr. Cavill training over and over again. Right before him.

Your body was shaking, physically evident despite your efforts to conceal the tremors as the man stared you down, unfazed by the drama of it all. “Fuck—“ You didn’t know what to turn off first. The porn? The video of him working out? Or maybe dressing yourself should be a priority because—Mr. Cavill was still staring, blues lingering on your naked body, seemingly outlining every drop of sweat that followed the contours of your figure. There was movement that naturally caught your attention.

It was his hand, large and muscular over the center of his shorts. Rubbing, squeezing, fondling at an evidently large mass that made you dry-swallow. You mustered up the courage to finally pause the porn, then clicked your phone off. “H-how long have you been watching?”

“Since the beginning.” He chuckled, stating matter-of-factly. “Your dad told me to come look at your car. Your garage was open. Thought you did that for me, but I guess you really just forgot about closing it considering…” He nodded towards your cock, licking his lips when it acknowledged him with a throb. “Was coming to get you, and I found you like this.”

“And you just watched?!” You sputtered out in distress, hastily dressing yourself back into your clothes, stumbling over your feet in the process. Sweat always made it more difficult to put on clothes.

“Well, I did call you for while I was coming in. You didn’t hear me over your video, and…me, I suppose.” It was smug. Amusing to him that you were in this state of embarrassment after being caught red-handed. You groaned, burying your head into your knees after sitting back down on the couch. The heat was unbearable, but to face Mr. Cavill after being caught jerking off to his videos, you were overcome with horror at the ghastly spectacle of the situation.

“Don’t tell my dad about this,” Your fingers scraped through your scalp out of frustration, but also to keep your head pressed to your knees as they interlaced around you. You refused to even spare one more glance at the man when you felt him practically hovering over you, a gentle smile riding along the coattails of his composure. “…please.”

“I won’t,” Mr. Cavill’s voice sounded clearer, closer than before. Right above you, but still, you maintained your position despite the pleasant scent of his cologne almost breaking away your focus. “Just as long as you suck me off.”

Those final words hit you like a truck.

You were astounded, confused by the turn of the situation. It felt like a taunt, and it was treated as such because it worked. You whipped your head up upon Mr. Cavill’s demand, almost insulted because it was how guys on campus used to taunt you.

What you expected to grace your eyes with was his face; charming as ever with a mustache that was reliable in stirring immense feelings inside of you.

Instead, you were met with a face full of flesh, Mr Cavill’s heavy and large cock. It sported a strong curve, throbbing veins to prove its accelerating lust, with thick balls swinging low to entice you into a hypnotic state. If someone was to grade you upon your predictions, you’d score a perfect mark, because god damn, he was huge. Hairier than you’d expected, though just as arousing, if not more, because this was unexpected for Mr. Cavill as well. He would’ve cleaned himself a bit if he had a plan to meet you under these circumstances.

“I—You’re serious?” With the string of thick pre-cum dripping from the very slit of his head, it seemed like your question was answered. You could smell him. The musk of his pre-cum. It tingled your nostrils, enchanting you akin to what fresh pastries would’ve done for you on normal, non-libido provoking circumstances.

“Does it look like I’m kidding? Come on, I’m waiting. You didn’t even say ‘thank you’ to me in person when I built you that PC for Christmas. It’s the least you could do, right?” Without warning, he took ahold of his cock and tapped the center of your lips with it. Your orbs shook as you looked up at him, hesitant through the tremor of your lips as Mr. Cavill stared back, determined for you to accept his plea offer with some kind of answer—with your mouth preferably. “Been teasing me for so long… Think I didn’t notice the way you looked at me whenever I came over? How you kept massaging your cock under the table during dinner? Always in those shorts too… God, you were begging to be fucked with your thighs showing like that.”

“No—I-You’re my dad’s friend, I can’t—“ Your hand said otherwise with your fingers taking initiative on their own, wrapping over his large cock, right above Mr. Cavill’s fist. It was a two-hander, a fucking two-hander, yet your fingers struggled to close around his girth. “Fuck, you’re so…”

“Your dad doesn’t have to know, right? I won’t tell. You won’t either. We don’t want to hurt him, right?” One of his hands found its way to the back of your head while he took a step closer, bringing his cock closer to your face. Before you could pull away, there was true grit to the palm of Mr Cavill’s hand as he applied pressure to the back of your head, pressing your cheek flush to the underside of his cock. “Look at you, you don’t have the heart to say no, do you? You’re obsessed with my cock, aren’t you?”

“Y-yes, Mr. Cavill…” You were under his control. Locks of your hair bundled under a grip while he ground his cock against your supple skin, making you smell him; his musky cock, the sweat buried in the deep hairs of his pubic area. It was a glorious scene that returned your cock back to its original state of arousal by tenfold.

“You’re going to be a good boy and suck my cock off, right?” Almost in your mouth. You parted your lips open to trap his cock into your mouth with the way he maneuvered your head like a rag doll, a brute strength your nape now, pulling and pushing your head as his cock rubbed against your face, but Mr. Cavill pulled at the last minute, right when you were one lick away from tasting meaty flesh. “Close your mouth. You will open your mouth when I tell you so.”

“I—I—Yes, please...” You were pathetic. He held you still, head tilted upwards to face the ceiling and his towering body while his cock and balls laid over your face like a table runner, a perfect heater to warm his meat. A t-shirt remained on his body, and that was a true testament to his appeal, being able to get you off like this half-naked. You reached down, back to fondling at your sore cock, at the blue balls you’d given yourself earlier, sniffing, inhaling the heavy delightful scent of his sweaty cock. Guess his house was having air-conditioning difficulties too.

“I can use your mouth however I want?” He dragged his cock over your face, the head leaking out pre-cum in midst of its journey to introducing itself to every one of your facial features, saving your lips for last.

“Yes,” You gulped at his rousing speech, breathing in the drying musky pre-cum on the perimeter of your skin. “Please fuck my mouth, please—“

“If you’re good, then this can be a regular occurrence, yeah?” You slipped your shorts and briefs off again, jerking yourself off to simply the teasing taunt of his cock, tapping at your skin, brushing over your eyelids, pushing up against your nose. You felt humiliated. You’d been marked by Mr. Cavill, pathetically as it only took his huge cock to make you submit to him. “You’d like that? Sucking your dad’s best friend off?”

“F-fuck, yes…” His cock was a wand to your body. Every time Mr. Cavill was seemingly about to push into your mouth, you willingly opened it to no avail, even if it was obvious that he’d pull away. You could only get off on his scent for so long. He’d draw your tongue out when he squeezed pre-cum out the tip of his cock, right above your pink flesh. It would sink, drip, slowly like syrup, in thick strings, until it wasn’t anymore with the sudden obstruction of Mr. Cavill’s finger swooping in to nick the sticky web, and letting it waste away on the carpet. “Please, Mr. Cavill… I-I’ll be good…”

It was amusing to him, watching you desperately try to taste and watch him in any way you can, to the point of going cross-eyed as he would center his cock in your vision. He waved his cock like a flag as if he had conquered you. Humiliated you with several heavy slaps to your face, thick smacks that you took in whimpering grace because Mr. Cavill had stolen the resources to your insanity.

“That’s what I like to hear.”

Mr. Cavill didn’t waste a single second for you to prepare yourself. The pressure on your nape steeled, bruising to make you open your mouth and whimper, and maybe that was the point, because he seized the opportunity to charge his cock inside of your mouth without warning, making you gag on your own desperation. It was a forewarning. A brief prologue on how you should take his cock as he quickly pulled himself out to properly prepare yourself. In the meantime, he slapped your cheek multiple times with the spit you had already layered him with, cooing at how incredible hard and big he was against your dazed face.

“Fuck, your mouth is so warm. That’s it, you can take it. Good boy.” Saliva spilled out of your mouth like a popped water balloon when he pushed himself inside of your mouth again. You couldn’t control it. You couldn’t control what Mr. Cavill had stripped away from you with the strength he had on your neck. Not to mention, the mass of flesh gagging you into oblivion, leaving you completely incapable of stopping him, as if you wanted him to. “Come on, use your hands too. Don’t be lazy.”

“Mm-mmf…” A compliance that was muffled by a slur of slick sounds, but Mr. Cavill knew what you meant. Amusement played on the corner of his lips as you struggled to fit a hand around the base of his sticky cock, sloppily stroking what was left neglected by your mouth, or rather your inability to take in. You suckled on the head of his cock, plump and heavy on your tongue as it throbbed with every lick you provided him. Stroking its slit with the tip of your tongue, you then dug and slobbered over the salty taste of his pre-cum. “So big… Just like I’d imagined.”

You pulled away to marvel at the size of his cock, taking your time to lube his cock with your spit from tip to shaft before your fist flushed to his pelvis to slap his meaty cock on the pouch of your tongue, lewdly flinging your spit in the air. It was your favorite move, often reliable in coercing a reaction out of the men you’d sucked off previously. The roll of his eyes, the flex of his muscles, the grunt from his gut; you slobbered all over his cock, worshipping every inch with your mouth, polishing the cock knob clean with your tongue and stroking what you couldn’t with two deft hands. Mr. Cavill was no different, he was a man with needs like you, with needs like the rest of the men you’d given head to, and you exploited the hell out of it. You loved making them feel in power, making them feel like you were worth time out of their day, despite their original pleas to use your mouth.

He briefly pulled back to rest a kiss on your lips, one that you’d treasure for the rest of your life. Not only was it because it was your first kiss was him, but because of how delicate he was with you. Warm and inviting like he usually was, his large hands cupped at the end of your jaw, holding you as if you were made of porcelain. “Making me so proud right now, fuck. Take in more of my cock, would you? I like it when you gag.”

“Mm-hmm…” They always do. You mumbled against his lips, no longer needing his guidance to finish what you’d started. Your eyes were glued to Mr. Cavill, aroused by the look he was giving you. A famished stare that demanded to be satiated, by means of sheer persistence as you knew it was going to be difficult to down him with your throat.

Mr. Cavill drove a hand into your hair, cuffing the strands to keep you still, to keep you from pulling away, to dominate you. He watched you without an ounce of kindness, muscles flexing, cock and balls hanging obscenely as you found a better position on your knees with a throw pillow guarding you from bruising. “Want you to throat-fuck me, Mr. Cavill.”

“Fuck, who knew you had such a mouth on you…” He sturdied his stance, spreading his strong legs while manhandling your head between them. You licked a stripe over his balls, then the underside of his cock until your tongue reached the scorching skin of his precum-slicked tip. Approaching the end of the journey, your mouth opened wide to welcome Mr. Cavill back into your mouth, and like tugging on a loose knot, you drew out moans from within his gut, his body loosening in turn of your hot mouth. “Fuck, just like that…”

With a thundering heart, and a building pleasure so morbidly big, you sunk and lowered your head lower, taking in Mr. Cavill’s horse-cock like a fleshlight. Crimson rose to your cheeks, to your neck, as you strained to maintain him inside of your mouth. He was too big. You’ve utilized all the tactics you’ve learned on campus, on a few buddies, on your roommates. Breathe through your nose, relax your tongue and jaw, let your saliva drip out. Yet you’d barely taken a few inches more than you had done prior before a couple of gags alerted you to take a breather. Your head pulled back, but it was met with violent opposition as Mr. Cavill brought your head back down to further shove himself down your throat.

“Mmm—gggrgh!” Your body jolted in defense, stiffening your body into an upright position when you couldn’t refrain from gagging on his cock. Your hands braced on his strong thighs for balance, squeezing at the muscly flesh of skin to distract yourself from the uncomfortable stretch your mouth was receiving.

“Fuck, yeah. Fuck, fuck, just like that. You’re taking it like a good boy.” You were making him proud, so fucking proud. You coughed, gagging, almost choked on your own spit, but the stuffing of Mr. Cavill’s large cock simultaneously emptied your mouth of saliva as it all came flooding down your mouth in lewd webs. “Shit, look at that. I’m making your mouth water, aren’t I? Fuck, what a waste.”

He yanked your head back, pulling him out of your throat, and you had never felt such relief. Breathing, exhaling and inhaling deep to compensate for the prediction that Mr. Cavill wasn’t going to let you spare a second of abandoning his cock like that. Your eyes watered, reddened from straining your muscles to make him fit inside of your mouth. You knew there was a shift in the room when you looked up at him like that, glossy in the eyes, tremors involuntarily making your knees unsteady, coughing as you held onto his thighs. He towered over you, you were beneath him, beneath the ravenous gaze he simultaneously terrified and seduced you with. You couldn’t complain now. You did your job. You made him feel powerful like you’d wanted. Dominating, as his cock leaked in your spit, and spit your saliva back onto your face.

“You were fucking hungry for my cock, weren’t you? Look at you. You’re a bloody mess…” With one swipe, he gathered the layers of spit you had generously supplemented his cock with, and smeared it across your face. You took his humiliation with good grace, moaning at your loss of pride with every smear. It deducted the more he messily layered your face with your own spit, but as demeaning as it was, there was immense merit to the satisfaction on Mr. Cavill’s face. “Open up.”

“M-mm, ah—“ Your mouth opened with a vulgar sound. If Mr. Cavill had something to compare it to, it would be like sticking a spoon into a cup of jello, and then scooping its content out. Sweet and glorious to his ears, salty to your mouth as he bought your head forward again, and plunged his cock back down your throat, deeper, and further within the confines of your throat. You squeezed around him, eyes clenched tight while he brought your face flushed to his pelvis, the hairy bush of his public area gentle abrasive against your nose. He smelled as delectable as he tasted. A hint of spice, sweat, salt, you could lick at it if it was made into a popsicle, lap it up if it was in a bowl and you were on all fours, bowing to his feet.

Your cheeks bulged as your mouth churned internally to produce more slime to seemingly ease the slide of Mr. Cavill’s cock thrusting inside of you now. He was careless, half-bent over your head to lock you into a tight embrace while his spit-polished cock rubbed at either side of your cheeks, rut against the roof of your mouth, then thrust himself into the depth of your warm throat. You couldn’t have escaped if you had wanted to. He was too strong. Two hands unrelenting around your head while he packed his large cock deep into your mouth, pelting into your gags and whimpers with fast, sharp thrusts, the sound of his wet dick choking you mutually turning you and Mr. Cavill on. You want to quit, yet he was choking you too good. Water streamed down your cheeks. Whether it was your own spit, sweat, or tears, you couldn’t comprehend it because Mr. Cavill was uncompromising, refusing to yield for your comfort.

You were fucking grateful. That was what had been missing from your college experience. A man. Someone taking charge for once. Someone utilizing you like the whore you made yourself out to be. Mr. Cavill saw right through you, through your taunts from several breaks ago, and he was fucking furious for making him wait.

“Shit, I’m close,” Fucking your mouth furiously. You could get off like this. Fuck, no. You were getting off to this. Fucking your cock with your fist, doing your best to match the pace of Mr. Cavill’s hips. You wanted to look up, to watch his face morph from admiration to animalistic desire as he utilized your throat at his own disposal.

You blinked away your tears, even if they had stung, and gawked at how captivating Mr. Cavill was for being selfish, thrusting into your mouth with one hand keeping your face free of your hair from obstructing his view. A frown permanently framed his mustache, and his dark brows furrowed at the approaching climax. He wasn’t looking at you. Rather, he was scrutinizing your wet mouth as it was jam-packed with his cock. How could a mouth look so pretty while doing something absolutely obscene? How could a throat feel so tight, so addictive, even after piping his cock down its drain several times? How could you let him treat you like this, a complete stranger, completely violate and humiliate you on your knees, like a broken doll whose purpose was to fulfill a man’s deepest desires? Maybe he needed to have a talk with your father. Talk about how broken you were, and that you needed fixing. Spend a nights with him at his house, and he would help you rewire your brain. He’d fix you. Fix you with his cock. With his lips. With his hands. With his body. Your eyes rolled back at the thought, fisting your cock faster, twisting to his heavy grunts as he was nearing closer and closer to the edge of his insanity.

“Mfghm!” Your throat felt raw, the subtlest whimper scratching at your throat like claws on chalkboard. But you persisted, pumping your shaft vigorously, your ears lapping up Mr. Cavill’s constant appraisal for your performance. Good boy. That’s it. You’re taking my cock like how I want it. You want your reward? Fuck, sloppier. Spit on it. Spit on my dick. I like it sloppy.

Sweat pebbled every inch of your skin. You couldn’t take it. It was coming. Your stomach sank and steeled upon the sudden rise of fulfillment, and you quickly released your grip after a final stroke before coming into the air. Thick ropes catapulted upwards, your cock throbbing with every pulse, and your balls emptying itself more and more with a bounce, a twitch, and a jolt. “F-fuck, ugh…”

“Fuck, yeah. Look at all of that cum. Fuck. You came that much just from my cock, look at that…“ Your body spasmed as the carpet soaked up your semen. His voice gruff yet gentle at the same time, making your cock twitch once more before softening.

“Come on, not done yet. Suck me off.” He spat out, tugging your head forward after a quick breather.

Something in you clicked, and you began sucking his cock off like it was your job. Twisting, stroking at the slick shaft while nipping at the head while you caught up to your breath. Suddenly saltier on your tongue as some of your cum had landed on your hand before it was smeared across Mr. Cavill’s dick. You’ve never tasted yourself before, but it was a found contentment you didn’t expect to turn you on.

Then, you took one last breath, cleared your throat, and charged forward. Long, thick inches slid into your throat once more, and you’d hold yourself there upon his final warning, mouth agape, lips pressed into the fur of his pubic hair. Your tongue flattened at the underside of his veiny cock, and your nails dug into the back of his thighs as you felt a thick warmth rush down and coat the inside of your throat. His cock throbbed, and Mr. Cavill’s grunts emptied from his gut with every spill. You could feel every heavy pulse as Mr. Cavill came down your throat in heavy, creamy spurts. You didn’t want to swallow. Not yet. You wanted to savor him. Savor the taste of his cum. You’d pined for it for so long, for all you could know, this could be your last opportunity to properly taste him. Slowly, but surely, his loads rose and pooled in the back of your throat upon barricading it with a tighten of your trachea. The rest of his spurts emptied on your tongue as he pulled himself out, and milked himself to completion.

“Don’t swallow yet.”

You nodded, panting, awaiting for his nuts to be emptied as he flung his cock a few times, hurling drips of cum and your spit over your tongue and face. When he was seemingly emptied out, his gaze fixated on his cum pooled in the back of your throat; semi-translucent and filthily swimming with your own spit, and then Mr. Cavill’s own saliva, as he then spat into your crowded mouth.

“Now swallow.”

You whimpered at the vulgarity of this affair, yet you were highly-aroused by this shame you were feeling. Mr. Cavill’s gaze stilled, anticipating with calm amusement while petting at your cheek. With one clean gulp, you downed your guilt, scrunching your nose when the salty taste of his spunk throttled your tastebuds, and sighed in satisfaction.

“Does your throat hurt?” He was on his haunches, carefully examining your throat as if he had his hand around you from the outside. It was a surprising return to his normal self, at least, the man that you knew as your dad’s best friend. Caring and patient, as he tended to your neck with apologetic kisses, and a gentle massage around your nape, where he must’ve gripped too hard upon your jolted reaction.

“A little… Didn’t take you were one to be rough like that.” Your knees gave out, letting yourself fall back onto your butt knowing that the couch would catch your position.

“Not usually, no… You just… happen to rile me up for some reason.” He was smiling, joining you on the floor, and nuzzling his furry mustache into the crook of your neck as if he wasn’t choking you with his cock a few minutes ago. It was unusual, yet charming. “Seriously, don’t tell your dad, okay?” He whispered into your ear before turning your cheek to look deep in his eyes.

A meaningful stare, a beat of silence, before you spoke, “Only if you promise me something.”

“What’s that?” Mr. Cavill pressed a kiss to your swollen lips, another apology for stretching your mouth without much warning.

“You really meant it that this would be a regular thing if I did a good job?” Mr. Cavill scoffed at first. It was almost embarrassing. Were you being naive? Was this too good to be true? Your cheeks flushed red, and you solemnly casted your gaze downwards, defeated because that was that it felt like. The sound of rejection always came with a scoff, everyone knew that.

“Well, it was going to be a regular thing even if you had accidentally bit my dick off.” He suddenly laughed at how susceptible you were by the smallest actions, and at this moment, you were surprised that maybe this crush wasn’t so one-sided after all. He teased at your frown, kissing the corner of your mouth until it was a smile, and then prodding at your sides when you resisted. “Come on, you couldn’t possibly think this was a one-time thing.”

“Tempting…” You snuck a head in between his thighs, reaching for a certain tool that had brought in so much pleasure and pain to your body. “I don’t know… we don’t talk much. I don’t know you that well.”

“Don’t.” Mr. Cavill teasingly warned, stopping you by taking ahold of your wrist. Though, one step too late, as you already cupped his flaccid cock, tormenting his balls with a few tugs and squeeze of your palm as an act of revenge for your throat. “Well… then let’s get to know each other. No problem doing that, right?”

“Mm-mm, guess not.” Pursing your lips, you nodded, feeling placated by his words.

He sighed into your mouth, kissing you again, licking at the inside of your mouth, tasting your tongue and then your cheek, to soothe his selfish stain on your body with the work of his mouth.

“First, I want to hear you say ‘thank you’ for building that PC of yours before I promise you anything.”

“Jesus, we’re still on this?”

“Yes! Do you know how long that took me?”

“I didn’t ask you to build me one—“

“God, you’re an ungrateful brat.”

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

#henry cavill x male reader #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x m!reader #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fic #male reader #x male reader #henry cavill fanfiction #x m!reader #gay reader #bottom male reader #male reader insert #nou.fics

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xhopelesslyromanticx · 11 months

Text

A birkin bag for Y/n - Lando Norris x Horner! Reader

Masterlist

Warnings: sexual references, swearing, mentions of alcohol

summary: When Y/n‘s situationship gifts her a really expensive bag seemingly out of the blue it causes quite the talk in the paddock. Little does she know he‘s just trying to show everyone who she belongs to. (Inspired by the famous birkin bag scene in Gilmore Girls)

Lando was intrigued with you from day one. Literally from the get go. He remembers the first time he had bumped into you in the halls of his close friends home. He clearly remembers every second despite being hungover from the night before.

Your hands were jam packed with all kinds of crafting supplies that shattered on the ground, crayons spilling everywhere.

„Ah shit!“ the sleepy guy exclaimed as a small hand immediately slapped his shoulder. He looked at your face in shock. He was violently hungover from his late night celebraions with a certain three time world champion yet he had never seen such a beautiful thing.

„Shh!“ you whispered, him raising his brows questiongly „Penelope could hear you!“

Lando chuckled, as you started picking up all the crayons. He kneeled down grabbing some as well. He knew your face was somehow familiar. He couldn’t quite place it though. The freckles, the dimples and that hair.

„Babysitter?“ he asked mustering your face.

„Sort of.“ you nodded, shooting him an innocent yet friendly smile „Family friend.“

He hands you a blue crayon with a grin. You knew the grin probably made any girl weak in the knees and judging from the blonde woman you and little Penelope had watched stumble out of his room this morning while munching on your cereal, he knew as well.

„Well nice to meet you nanny.“

You cringe at the name before rolling your eyes „Nice to meet you to Lando.“

Lando had loved that. You hadn’t acted like you didnt know his name. You just didn’t care enough to pretend to ask. You smiled again before licking your lips and getting up. Hearing Penelope call your name. Y/n. What a name. He eatched you stumble away on that day, knowing he wanted to get to know you.

And he did. He learned very quickly,that you were in fact Horners daughter. Which was of course to his luck, because Christian loved him. So he showed up at family hosted events, made some apparences in the red bull motor home and before he knew it you spent the night at his.

Well it wasn‘t that easy. He had to do some convincing. But god Lando loved kissing you. He was addicted to it in fact. In every corner, whenever noone was watching his lips were on yours as he pressed you against the walls.

„Someone could see.“ you mumbled against his soft lips, slightly pressing your palms against his broad chest. Having to control youraelf from giving in.

„I don’t care.“ he chuckled his hands under your shirt rather quickly.

It was always like this. Sneaking around, yet most of the grid was aware off the little fling. But Lando had told you quite blank from day one; he didn’t do boyfriend and girlfriend. And having gotten out of a longer realitionship just months prior you were okay with that. You could do it, you thought. And it was fun for a minute. Exciting and new.

„No strings.“ you held out your little finger snd Lando rolled his eyes at the childish gesture. But he interwined his pinky with yours anyway after some hesitation. Laying on his hotelroom bed with your body next to his.

„No strings.“ he nodded. You smiled waiting for the next words before you raised your brows.

„You gotta say it.“ you exclaimed gesturing to your interwined hands.

„I don‘t want to.“ he groaned, his body pressing against yours as he was hovere above you.

„Okay.“ you nodded before turning around and crossing your arms „Then no sex.“

Lando chuckled pulling you into his body as he inhaled your scent „Fine.“

You smiled waiting to hear the words escape his lips as he pressed his lips against the crook of your neck „I pinky promise.“

Months passed like that. And it was fun for a moment. But reality eventually creeped back up. And as you were sat at brunch at your dads house back in England, having scrolled through endless pictures of Lando celebrating his podium in Silverstone the day prior. Including pictures of him with countless women. But you knew it was no fair. He could do whatever he wanted. Yet you somehow had gotten the sense that he maybe wasn’t sleeping around like that anymore. After all, you two saw eachother almost every week at least very two weeks. You just thought maybe it was heading somewhere, but clearly its wasn‘t.

It had been so easy. Life had been good. You had an internship at a sports paper back in Monaco. You were studying to be a journalist, meaning you weren’t necessairily location bound. And it allowed you to attend races. Which allowed you to see Lando. But not this race. You hsd promised Lando you‘d make it but cancelled last minute as you had to attend some stupid event in Monte Carlo. You had watched the race on the toilet, your phone in your hands the whole night. God you had been so proud once he had finished that crossing line. If only he knew how important he was to you. You think you might even have screamed a little when it was over. And of course you had immediately texted him. „Plan A babyyyy! so proud of you Lan, kisses and see you soon xx“

But there hadn‘t been any response. And seeing the pictures from the whole ordeal over the weekend you now understood why. While you had sat on the plan, still wearing your gown from the event he had been out and fooled around with lord knows who. You knew you had no right to be jealous or something. But you weren’t even jealous. You were just dissapointed, having expexted to be a little more important than that. But Lando was a player. He didn‘t do boyfriend/girlfriend.

You were so lost in your thoughts, not even having heard the front door open. Starkng at the perfectly arranged flowers your stepmom had on the wooden table. The whole house and every corner was so perfect, it made you think about how your dad really had a great woman by his side. She had made this place a home. Something it truly hadn’t been growing up there.

„Well good morning sweetheart!“ your fathers voice appeared behind you as your dad walked into the dining room where the brunch had been prepared.

Max and Kelly following behind him, having all drove out here to get some time off. The countryside the perfect place to do so. No people who‘d recognize you, not even in the little town nearby. And even if they did, they truly didn‘t care enough to bother you.

„Dad.“ you smiled getting up and hugging your father tightly, your arms wrapping stound his taller figure. Your dad quite suprised by the affectionate hug, as he held you close for some seconds; He immediately knew. From the second he saw you staring blankly at that wall just before to this desperate hug, something was wrong. He watched you greet everyone else with a somehow fake smile, including Max and Kelly who both hadn‘t seen you in some time as your job was keeping you really busy.

„What are you even doing back home?“ your dad later asked as everyone was eating.

„Well, I was suprised to to see her stumble in here this morning.“ Geri, your stepmom chuckled.

Max mustering you. He knew, he had seen the pictures. Well he had been there. Having told Lando if he was aware of the cameras on him as he was pushing his tounge down some girls throat. He even told some people to delete the photos. But people were drunk, plus Lando was famous. A deadly combination.

„What about Y/n, Lando?“

Max knew you two weren’t exactly offical. He had no idea what kind of realitionshipi it was. But he had seen you two. It was evident you both had feelings for eachother. So this was just stupid. It would hurt both of you. Especially you and Max thought of you like a little sister.

„Why should I care?“ Lando groaned sounding extremly cocky, making Max wanna puke. Lando scrunched his nose before he pushed past the dutch guy who just stood there baffled.

Now seeing your puffy eyes looking at everyone at the table. Max knew; you had seen the stupid pictures. You probably had flown out to England for Lando. And Lando had been an absolute idiot the past 24 hours.

„I wanted to suprise you.“ you whispered, lying to your dad. But your dad wasn’t stupid, he knew it probably had to do with a certain british boy who you seemingly had befriended ove the past few months. He had his concerns but you were a grown woman, he knew he shouldn’t get inbetween anything.So he just smiled before nodding „Well that’s nice. I‘m certainly surprised honey.“

The week passed quick. You spent some time with your siblings and Max and Kelly before saying your goodbyes again. Telling your dad you‘d see him in Hungary.

„Come to London please.“ You couldnt believe it. After three whole days of zero contact he had finally texted you. He didn‘t ask yet he clearly saw your instagram story showing you were back home. You wanted to text him, be mad and tell him how hurt you were. But you weren’t like this. Your weekend with your patents had made you realize you haf been raised better. Maybe you had lied to yourself. Maybe you couldn‘t do no strings attached. Maybe having standards was a good thing.

So you didn‘t respond. You told him a couple of days later; „sorry was busy, see you in hungary.“

It was the weekend before the Grand Prix you attended yet another absoluetly jam packed Gala event in Monaco. You were luckily not gonna be important next to all the stars and socialites there. So you put on some regular black dress, did your own hair and makeup before getting an uber there.

The evening was rather dull. But you‘d have to report on it for the paper next week so you had to stay for every second. You saw a couple if familiar faces, talked to some old family friends before admiring the beautiful hotel the thing was hosted at. The big chandeliers sparkling so brightly, you were bound to be mesmerized. It was then as you grabbed yet another glass of champagne when you turned around bumping into some guys chest.

„Oh. I‘m sorry!“ you exclaimed looking up at the familiar face. The blonde hair sitting ever so perfectly as the tailored suit sat on his broad shoulders. The tall guy shooting you a sly grin „You‘re fine my love dont worry.“

„Logan.“ you chuckled. Having seen the rookie a couple of times at least. But never really having spoken to him.

„Hello there.“ he waved awkwardly before induldging you in some small talk.

Logan was nice guy. Despite the internet making fun of him for his very american ways he was nice and polite. It started as nice chatters but somehow you two ended up at a corner at the empty bar, downing glass after glass of whatever alcoholic beverage the american ordered.

„So weird seeing you without Norris.“ he eventually bound up saying.

You scrunched your nose, a thing you always did but even more when you were drunk. If there was botox for that you might as well start young.

„Why is that weird?“ you giggle, your words coming out slower than usual as you kick your heels against the legs of the bar chair. Playing with the rim of your already empty champagne glass.

Logan looks down at you, seeing you nervously bounce your legs. He licks his lips, and if you weren‘t shitfaced you would have gotten the ick a long time ago. The guy was so obviously trying to flirt with you. Something you hated. Well except when Lando did it.

„Ah, I don‘t know I just thought he was your boyfriend?“

You burst out into laughter, causing some of the last people in there to look at you. Women being loud, something people clearly hated or were at least severly triggered by.

„What‘s so funny?“ Logan blushed looking around, kind of embarassed by the eyes on you. Lando would never be embarrassed. Yeah well Landos laugh was also way louder than yours.

„See…“ you catch your breath, before rolling your eyes and playfully punching his shoulder „Norris doesn’t do girlfriend boyfriend or boyfirend girfriend silly!“

Logan chuckled before his hand was placed on your upper thigh. It was like he had waited to hear that. It came so quick and at the most obvious time. The american guy leaned in towards you before whispering into your ear „You wanna head home?“

He smelled weird. No he actually smelled fine. He just didn’t smell like Lando. Lando smelled so perfect. Like your favorite smell ever.

Your heart ached for a second. This probably was good right? You had to do the whole multiple people thing. Lando was doing it. So you also had to.

„Why not?“

So you walked out the place with the blonde american. Not looking back once. Only what you didn‘t notice as you stumbled down the stairs with your heels in your hands was that, Arthur Leclerc who was Charles brother and Oscars best friend had waited for his girfriend outside when he spotted a very tipsy you get in a car with none other that Logan Sargeant.

The week passed rather quick and before you knew it you were sat on a plane towards Hungary. You were gonna arrive just in time for Qualifying. Heading straight from the airport to the paddock, having to change into a appropriate outfit at the airport toilet. Again. Low point.

It was a long taxi drive later that you made your way into the paddock, holding your recorder and noteclips. What you hadn’t known strutting, in there in your still perfectly white suit that could have used some ironing but no one’s perfect, that you actually had been the talk of the grid over the past two days.

Arthur Leclerc had a loose mouth. He had immediately texted Charles asking if Y/n Horner wasn’t involved with Lando Norris anymore. To which the older Leclerc responded that as far as he knew Lando and Y/n were somehow together all the time but not really exclusive. When Arthur dished the tea to him later the next day that he had seen you and Sargeant looking rather cozy with one another Charles immediately texted Carlos asking if there was trouble in heaven. The boys just loved gossip. And we all know who Carlos is best friends with.

On press day the ferrari driver asked his former teammate, right after getting of the panel „So Y/n’s really not as goody two shoes as we thought huh?“

Lando looked at him confused, he had just spent four days figuring what he had done to seemingly piss you off. No messages, the way you had stayed with your dad when you had promisef him to come to London. He missed you. He just couldn‘ admit that. No strings right? Plus he didn’t do boyfriend girlfriend.

„What do you mean? What about her?“

„Yeah well…“ Carlos chuckled awkwardly now spotting the very hot topic off his rumor talking to Oscar in the corner of the waiting room. Logan was showing Oscar something on his phone while the two youngest guys on the track waited for their turn to do interviews.

„Carlos, I don‘t have all day.“ Lando groaned, punching his friends shoulder „What about Y/n?“

Carlos contemplated for a second. He knew Lando was acting like he had no feelings for you but Carlos knew exactly that wasn‘t the case. He had after all been the one dragging the brit home after the silverstone afterparty. And the whole drive to the hotel the young Mclaren driver kept on talking about you and everything about you and everything about your looks and so on.

„Her eyes. Her hair, the way she scrunches her nose when shes confused.“ Lando slurred his head on Carlos lap as he was about to pass out „Y/n‘s just great. She- She is girlfriend material.“

„So Charles told me that Arthur told him. That last Saturday at some sort of Gala in Monaco, he spotted Y/n leaving with another driver…“

„What!“ Lando yelled immediately , causing everyone to look at him. Carlos hand covered his mouth, stopping him from screaming the place down. Shooting everyone an awkward smile as they continued their own thing with raised eyebrows.

„Shh!“ Carlos whispered as Lando looked at him in fury before removing the hand from his mouth.

„Don’t tell me to shush! Who the fuck did she leave with!“ he whisper yelled, and Carlos sighed. He really didn’t want any bad blood in between the grid to start because of him so he knew he couldn’t tell names:

„Well, Lando you two aren’t official so you dont really have the right to get mad at her.“ Carlos explained trying to sound reasonable. But Lando just raised his eyebrows holding up his hands clearly acting innocent as a lamb.

„Hold on! I‘m not mad at her! Im mad at whoever thinks its okay to take something that clearly belongs to me!“

Carlos chuckled. His friend sounded like a little kid in preschool who‘s toy was stolen. Guess that’s what love does to you „Lando first of all no one really knows if you two are offical or not…“

„I don‘t have to be offical with her, she‘s off limits for any other driver and they know it.“ he argues back and it actually makes so much sense in his head. Much more sense than it does to Carlos at least „If you don’t actually your car, I‘ll still never juste drive it.“

„But Y/n‘s not some bag Lando. You cant actually own her-„

„Thats it!“ Lando smiled and Carlos looked rather confused. He musters his seemingly insane friend who looked like he had just found the answer to lifes most profound question.

„What?“

„Im gonna get her a bag.“

You had just arrived at some food stand, grabbing a coffee and a bagle when a hand grabbed yours. You turned around looking up at the beautiful curly haired guy. Landos eyes looked at you as he had a huge grin on his face „Hey baby.“

„Lan.“ you stated, rather suprised by the bubbly greeting. Last time you had checked both of you were ignoring one another. But Lando didn‘t even give you any time, he put his hand on your back before guiding you towards the mclaren motorhome like he was on some sort of mission.

„What are you doing?“ you chuckled as he pulled you past security who grabbed your bagle and coffee as it was not allowed to bring food from outside. Rude. You looked Lando up and down as you followed him. He was already in race gear probably having to go on track any minute now.

The young guy didn’t say a word he just pulled you into his drivers room closing the door behind him quickly. Before he immediately smashes his lips against yours leaving you no choice but kiss him back. After a while you come to your senses as you push him off you “What‘s going on Lan?“

You missed this. But you weren’t naive, he was acting like you hadn‘t completely had zero contact over the last two weeks. Like he hadn’t ignored you for days after Silverstone. Lando pressed his lips together, his hands still on your waist. He looked like he was contemplating to say something but then shook his head.

„Baby.“ he whispered, his fingers digging into the material of your white blazer.

„Yes?“ you asked sounding rather hopeful. Maybe youw two were actually gonna talk for once.

Lando looked into your eyes before taking a deep breath „I got you something.“

He what? The brit now turned around and you looked at him dumbfounded. He walked over to the cabinet pulling out an orange paper bag. You furrowed your brows. Not understanding what on earth he was doing. He got you a present?

„Here.“ the brown haired handed you the big bag and you looked at him confused.

„It‘s not my birthday yet.“ you stated knowing your birthday was coming up soon. Maybe he had remembered wrong, wouldn’t be a suprise as he seemingly didn’t care where you had been the last two weeks.

„I know but just open it!“ he chuckled, sounding like an excited little boy. You can’t help but giggle nodding as you walk towards the table. You place the bag down pulling out an orange cotton bag. You look at Lando still lost before pulling out the inside. Holding a rathe big snd bright pink leather bag in your hand.

You scrunch your nose „A purse?“

„You dont like it?“ Lando looks panicked and you get even more confused. He sighs rubbing his face „I thought pink was your favorite color.“

„No it’s nice! Really nice!“ you admit looking at the bag „Im just confused why you got me a- a bag? I mean i know im a girl, and I love bags but why..“

„It‘s not just any bag.“ he chuckles, only now realizing you had no idea what you were holding in your hands. He forgot you actually grew up with only a father. This could be amusing.

„What is it then? A special bag?“

„Ah forget it.“ Lando shrugged it off, kissing your cheek . This maybe was actually good. If you didn’t know what the bag meant you‘d go parade it in front of everyone which was exactly what Lando wanted. This bag would surely keep anyone away „I hope you like it baby.“

„I love it Lan!“ you smiled, before tiptoeing and kissing his cheeks. In all honesty the bag was nice but you had still no idea why he‘d just gift you some purse. But you figured it was his way of aplogizing or somethingand you really had no time to discuss the matter at that moment „If you excuse me now I gotta go show everyone my new bag and you have to go race. Good luck!“

Lando couldnt believe it. His plan had sorta backfired. But in the weirdest most unexpected way. He was stunned as he watched you strutting away with your new bag in one hand as you grabbed your coffe on your way out. This could be fun.

Kelly was watching her boyfriend qualifying from the redbull garage as she noticed you walk up to her. The dark haired woman smiled talking off her headphones „Y/n!“

„Kells!“ you embraced her in a hug. You two catch up a little and you just wanna ask Kelly about Little P when her eyes fall onto the bright pink thing in your hand. Kelly raised her eyebrows staring at it“Wow does your internship suddenly pay that much?“

„What?“ you chuckled, noticing her eyes on your bag. You pull it up swinging it around a little before wiggling your eyebrows „Oh, this?“

You roll your eyes turning it around „It‘ a pretty nice bag right?“

Kelly looks at you a little stunned „Nice?“

„You dont like it?“ you ask mustering the older woman „Well you won’t believe this but Lando got me this, totally random!“

„Lando got you a birkin!“ Kelly now yelled covering her mouth in shock as everyone started to look at the two of you. It was then that your step mom appeared from the backroom, taking off her own headset. Looking at Kelly and than at you snd than the very pink bag in your hand.

„That’s what it‘s called?“ you scrunched your nose before chuckling„Its apparently a special purse.“

„Who got you this?“ Geri now asked looking utterly confused at the very beauty you were holding in your hands. She had seen her share of beautiful birkins but this was next level. You grew more confused by the second as people were suddenly hovered around you, well especially women.

„Well- Hello to you to.“ you say rolling your eyes „It‘s just a bag girls. Lando got me it and it was so weird, it was completly out of the blue!“

„Just a bag?“ Geri asked, looking at Kelly unbelievingly „Y/n thats a very nice purse!“

„Oh.“ you state, raising your eyebrows „Maybe I shouldn’t use it then?“

„Oh no, A birkin bag is meant to be used honey!“ Geri chuckled, and Kelly can’t help but laugh along still absolutely shocked„Max never got me a birkin bag.“

„Whatever.“ you now shrug not knowing how a bag could be such a big deal. The two women continue their jokes before you walk around and take off. You had work to do after all. You muster your bag one last time. A birkin bag. Whatever that was. You should probably google it later.

Talk of the bright pink birkin bag that had been gifter by the very Lando Norris spread like water. Soon everyone knew about the most expensive hermes bag being given to a certain young journalist who was parading it like she had zero idea what it was. Well, that was actually the truth. Even instagram had their fieldday seeing you enter Mclarens motorhomes with Lando and leaving it with a pink birkin.

But you were too busy to notice. You only noticed the stared from every woman passing you and the fact that even some of the drivers started whispering and pointing at you whenever you passed them.

When Carlos bumped into you and noticed the little thing in your hand he immediately wanted to slap Lando. He Couldn’t believe the young guy thad actually pulled through with the utter insane plan. He had watched the guy make five hundred calls the day prior. If he had known what kinda bag he was on the hunt for, he‘d probably tell him to forget it.

„Max!“ Carlos yelled running up to the dutch driver, Max turning around „Yes?

„Did you see what he did?“ Carlos asked completely out of breath. Max raised his eyebrows taking a sip of his water in his Red Bull bottle.

„Who did what?“ Max asked, looking at the spanish ferrari driver.

„Lando.“ he stated and Max ju shrugged his shoulders, completely oblivious to the gossip that had been circulating all day„He bought her a birkin bag!“

„Who?“

„Y/n!“

„That little sly fuck!“ Max cussed, not actually believing what he was hearing. Everyone knew what gifting a birkin to a woman means. It‘s like putting a lock on her. It could be only described as some sort of pre proposal, letting every guy know: she is in fact off limits and you better back off.

„He couldnt ask her out normally huh?“ Max laughed shaking his head, grinning at the thought of the young brit.

„No. It‘s Lando. Typical Lando.“

On race day you decided you had enough for once and for all from the stares shot your way every second you walked through the paddock. The bag was pretty yes, but people were surely acting like it was a god. You walked into the redbulm garage approaching Kelly who was stood there with Max and your dad.

„Guys!“ they all stared at you as you looked at them in frustration.

„What the hell is the deal with this stupid purse!“ you held up the thing once again and your dad looked at you suprised while Max chuckles. There‘s a moment of silence before your father crosses his arms, raising his eyebrows.

„It‘s hideous?“ Christian asked. Max and Kelly looking at both of you stunned.

„Dad!“ you punched him with the bag as he laughed like an evil witch. He always made fun of your clothes so this wasn’t personal.

„Y/n!“ Kelly yells before the panicked women reaches out to garv the bag out of you hands like it was a child in need. She wrapped her arms around it protectively looking at you in fury. Meanwhile you look at her like she’s the one that’s lost her mind and so does your dad.

„What the-„

„Okay Christian.“ Max took a deep breath, looking at Kelly who was looking at him in desperation. Silently begging him to put an end to her misery of watching you treat a birkin like that„You may wanna take a seat for this.“

„Bullocks.“ Christian chuckled raising his eyebrows as you looked at Max confused. What was everyone’s problem?

„Well, this bag.“ Max ponited at the thing in Kellys hand and you looked at him exceptingly „It’s a birkin bag. And Lando gave it to you? Right Y/n?“

You slowly nodded, your dad already confused on why Lando would even buy you a bag in the first place. You weren’t that serious, right?

„Well its a forty thousand dollar bag. At least.“ Kelly now stated.

You felt like your heart stopped beating „A what?“

„Why?“ your dad now looks at you putting two and two together „Why does Norris gift you a forty thousand dollar bag Y/n?“

„I- Uhm.“

„I don’t know?“ you lied, before going to grab the bag from Kelly’s hand. Your dad throwing daggers at you. Realizing his daughter actually isn’t as innocent as she seems. You grin awkwardly „If you excuse me now. I gotta go!“

You wahtched the race from the stands, figuring you‘d be safest there as you tried to grasp the sheer fact that Lando had actually bought you a bag that cost more than all your other bags combined. And god you didn’t even say thank you really. But you also truly didn’t understand why he‘d do something so insane. This was serious. You don‘t gift bags like this to your situationship. After a long day you finally headed back to the hotel. Texting Lando to come to your room to talk on your way there.

You were getting ready to out to dinner with your family when a knock appeared at your door. In nothing but yout bathrobe you went to open the door expecting it to be Lando only to be met with a certain american guy lean against your doorframe „Howdy.“

„Logan.“ your eyes were wide open as he looked you up and down with a sly grin.

„Greetings.“ god he was unbarebale when not drunk. You look at the taller guy an awkward grin plastered on your lips.

„What do you want?“ you asked and you knew it sounded quite rude. But you quite honestly didn’t care because Lando could show up any second and you didn’t exactly want him to find you here with Logan.

„I wanna talk.“ He speaks as he pushes past you. You watch him enter your room. Well he was persistent.

„Well, now really is a bad time.“ you stated gesturing to your soaking wet hair and bathrobe. He really had to leave.

„How so?“

„Well, to be quite frank.“ but you couldnt finish it because a second later the door opened behind you. You shut your eyes knowing exactly who that was and how this was gonna look for you. Lando walks in fully dressed for the night, spotting you stand there in your bathrobe, your back turned towards him and in the room none other than. What? Logan? Really?

„What the fuck is he doing here.“ Lando asked not even acknowledging Logans presence. Great. Could anything go your way. You sighed turning around and looking at him „Lan…“

„I‘m here to pick her up for dinner.“ Logan states crossing his arms. You turn back around. He was not serious. „What?“

„Excuse me?“ Lando hissed, clearly already getting worked up about the fact that the Williams driver had the audacity to show up here after he had clearly made sure the whole paddock knew you were his. The birkin had done his job. People had already texted him congratulations on the realitionship.

„Yes remember, we made the plans last week when I came to your place?“ Logan asks you, quite literally doing it on purpose. You knew he was doing it on purpose.

„So hold on!“ Lando grabbed your shoulde and you turned around to look at his pissed off expression „He‘s the other driver?“

„The other what?“ you exclaimed being quite lost. Logan just chuckling, he had heard that Lando was trying scare someone off, apparently it was him. It mad Logan chuckle, surely you wouldn’t be so easy right?

„Last week you left an event with another driver!“ Lando hissed, pointing at the blonde american whi stood there with a cocky smile “It was him?“

„Yes.“ Logan grinned and you knew if he wanted Lando to punch him he was almost there. The brit had a short temper for stuff like this.

„Wait!“ you now yelled turning your attention towards Lando only „How do you know that!“

„Arthur saw you.“ Lando hissed, looking at you with a digusted expression. He starts to pace up and down the room and you roll your eyes at the dramatics.

„Lando calm down!“

„He’sinsane.“ Logan chuckled, shaking his head „Thinking he can put dibs on girl with some freaking bag just because he‘s too stupid to ask her out.“

„Logan!“ you now sighed , pointing at the door „Leave!“

Logan looks at you unamused but seeing you were serious. He rolls his eyes before pushing past you and leaving your room. Slamming tbe door shut on his way out, causing you to flinch as you stare at Lando who‘s looking like some maniac.

„Jesus!“ you sighed.

„Did you have s*x with him?“ Lando asked, blurting it out without hesitation but scared of the answer. You looked at him completely lost on what gave him that idea. Arthur for sure wasn’t a reliable source. Noted.

„What if I did Lando? We agreed on no strings!“ you tried to reason with him. The whole bag thing and him acting all jealous. It made zero sense „Its not like you weren‘t the one who was partying with a million girls after Silverstone.“

„Because I was mad at you!“ Lando now yelled. He really hated to admit this. He hated talking. He‘d rather buy you a million birkins but he knew his words were now needed.

„For what?“

„For not being there. You knew how important it was for me!“

„Lando I had to work!“ you sighed, still lost on how this all made sense „Thats why you slept with other women? Because you missed me?“

„I didn‘t sleep with anyone!“ he now defensed himself. You take a step back raising your brows as you realize you had been foolish.

„But the pictures?“

„Yes I made out with some of them. Im not proud. But I went home with Carlos.“ he sighed, looking at your smaller frame „And I got you that bag hoping you‘d forgive me for that. Well I also got it to scare the competition off.“

„Why didnt you say anything?“

„The bag speaks for itself or so I thought.“ he shakes his head „Only I forgot you aren’t like every other girl.“

„Lan.“ you smiled weakly, approaching him and putting your hand against his face „It‘s a nice bag. But unfortunately you will have to take it back because baby, forty thousand dollars? Thats ridiculous!“

Lando chuckled knowing how insane he sounded. He looked down at you „It was fifty thousand actually. I was trying compete with the other driver. If had known it was Sargeant I‘d gotten you something cheaper trust me.“

You can’t help but laugh „You’re mean!“

„No but seriously? He’s american!“ Lando said his voice all high pitched.

„I know.“ you. giggle, shaking your head „I didn’t t sleep with him tough baby. So you can take the bag back and buy yourself a car.

„Oh thank god!“ Lando sighed in relief his whole body relaxing. God he could be dramatic.

„I thought I was gonna have to pull an exorcism to get that thought out of my head.“

„Well we kissed.“ you smirk „So theres your exorcism.“

Lando fake gags and you punch his shoulder. Before wrapping your arms around his neck. Tugging on his curls. You look into his beautiful eyes, and he smiles down at you.

„So this no strings thing.“ he mumbles, biting the inside of his cheek. You feel your heart flutter as he comes down and kisses your lips softly his hand on your chin. He smiles „Its really just silly isn‘t it?“

You giggle „It is silly baby.“

„Okay from now on its strings baby.“ he states his hands wrapping around you body.

„Oh-„ you look at him with a scrunched nose „You might wanna skip that and go do boyfriend girlfriend right away.“

„Why?“

„Mhm…“ you sighed „Pretty sure my dad knows we had s*x.“

„What?!“ his eyes are wide open „How?“

„The stupid-„ you start but he interrupts you with raised brows.

„Birkin Bag.“

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mrsbarnesblog · 3 months

Note

Hi girlie! Can you write something about baby daddy Rafe? Set in a FWB universe and reader ends up pregnant because he loves c*ming inside her? Love your works they keep me up at night in the best way 🤭🤍

masterlist

requests are open

word count: 0.9k

warnings: smut at the beginning, unprotected sex, fwb (kinda?)

a/n: hey, love❤️ i wasn't sure whether you wanted them to end up together or not, so i made something in between. i got inspired and wrote another part for this one which i may post later, but i'm open to changing/adding something if y'all have any ideas.

“Rafe… we shouldn’t do this— ah, fuck, please!” You cried out, your back arching from the bed, seeking more attention from his lips to your sensitive nipples.

“I can’t stop. It’s gonna be okay, just one time, baby.” He grumbled, sucking in your skin. Rafe was pounding into your poor body without any mercy; he was too excited to be bare inside of you for the first time.

When you came to his place, you two quickly found out that you ran out of condoms that were usually stacked on his bedside table, but you were too far gone to stop it. You were naked, your pussy was leaking with arousal, his dick was so painfully hard and it was hard to think straight. You didn’t want to stop and Rafe managed to convince you to let him fuck you raw.

You knew how fucking stupid you were and that he might easily get you pregnant, but at that exact moment, the only thing on your mind was the feeling of his bare cock.

“I’m gonna cum, baby. I wanna cum inside of your pretty pussy. Shit—you're squeezing me so hard, you like this idea, hm?” He kept slapping his hips against yours harder and harder, causing you to moan in despair and grip his shoulders. You tried to say no, but, in all honesty, you didn’t want to. The stretch was so delicious, and the feeling of his cock filling you completely made you feel dizzy. And having him cum inside? You could have an orgasm just thinking about it.

No more than thirty seconds later, when you finally reached your height, his cock twitched inside and Rafe let out the sexiest moan you’ve ever heard. You felt liquid warmth covering your inside and moaned, squeezing and milking everything he could have you.

You were playing with fire and it was just a matter of time before everything would go wrong. No matter how stupid and reckless it was, you didn’t stop. Rafe was now obsessed with the feeling of being inside of you without a barrier; he could not help himself when he had you spread out in front of him, ready to be filled.

It was the best feeling that both of you experienced, but for some reason, you didn’t even try to find another form of contraception. You should have known better. You should have insisted on protection, but there was something intoxicating about the way he took you—the way he groaned your name as he filled you up. It was reckless, dangerous, and oh-so-addictive.

So it was not that big of a surprise when, just two months later, you saw two lines on the test.

You weren’t dating, even if it has always felt like much more than just sex, so you never expected Rafe to be happy about the possibility of having a baby. You thought he would end everything immediately and simply run away. Yet he was the complete opposite.

During your pregnancy, Rafe never left your side and made sure to attend every medical appointment, buy every single vitamin and satisfy all of your cravings.

You wanted to eat some weird shit from the store at 2am? He brought it to you in less than twenty minutes. Your body was aching and you didn’t want to do anything? He organised a spa day for you. You had terrible mood swings and cried every ten minutes? He was patient and he did everything he could to make you feel better.

You quickly fell into that kind of domestic routine. It was comfortable, and it felt right to have him beside you all the time. While your baby was growing inside of you, you both realised more with every passing day that the feelings that you two had were serious. Because you were on each other’s mind’s 24/7, you stayed in yours or his place all the time, and you couldn’t just keep your hands away.

When Rafe first felt your baby kick, he was over the moon and he had the biggest smile on his face. He repeatedly kissed your belly before falling asleep with his head on your thighs and his hand on your bump.

As soon as your little girl arrived in the world, Rafe completely fell into daddy mode. He was fussing over her, insisting on spending as much time with her as possible. He never complained when he had to change her diapers or wake up in the middle of the night because of her cries.

He is such a girl dad, and the moment she looked at him with her blue eyes, he was wrapped around her tiny finger.

Rafe loves being a dad; he loves taking care of his girls, even if you are still not officially his. He makes sure to do everything to make you feel comfortable and give you enough rest.

He may not be perfect in it, but he’s trying his best and he hasn’t regretted ever getting into this with you.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #baby daddy!rafe #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe imagine #rafe fic

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mars-ipan · 1 year

Text

i sometimes worry about how much this website romanticizes drug use

#tw drug mention #do not get me wrong!!! i am not a narc or against drugs or anything like that #and by NO means should we demonize addicts. they are people and they deserve respect #that being said: i’m worried #i have a family history of addiction on both sides of my family #all of my grandparents have smoked at one point. some of them smoked until they died (not from smoking but it sure fucked them up)#both of my parents were smokers #my mom stopped smoking when she got pregnant and never really started again #she’s told me now the thing she has to be careful with is food #(which is a different nuanced discussion for another time)#my dad has always had his vices #he’s fully hooked on nicotine. he’s been trying to stop smoking but he still goes through a sleeve of nicotine candies in a month #(it’s a lot. he buys like 6 containers at a time)#he’s been smoking cbd (legal here but even if it weren’t i am Not A Narc)#and of course he’s been trying to wean off of his prescribed painkillers #(he is taking them as responsibly as he is able to do not demonize my father)#which is. hard #all this to say i am incredibly prone to addiction #it’s in my blood and i grew up watching it #and it is not something to be taken lightly. at all #am i against drugs? no. am i against self-medication? no #but oftentimes this site talks about drugs as if they don’t have the potential to be incredibly dangerous #which they can be.#and if we ignore that then i worry people are going to get themselves addicted #and that’s expensive. and deadly #and if you can prevent being addicted i think that you should by any means #i don’t plan on drinking much. i don’t plan on smoking anything at all #i may do edibles from time to time #but this sort of stuff needs to be in moderation #idk. i just see a lot of glorification of drugs here and it worries me

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alexiroflife · 3 months

Text

"please"

MDNI, very suggestive content

Synopsis: you and choso keep warm as a snowstorm swarms the city

to sum it up: you have sex together for the first time and both love the word 'please'

WC: 7,077

Warning(s): SMUT, all of it smut

There had always been something about snowstorms, the way they ushered people indoors and howled against the windows angrily, creaking the floorboards and coating the world outside in a smooth blanket of white.

You had always thoroughly enjoyed them, watching with childlike wonder from inside your room as flurries of ice rushed into view, blowing about the gray air in a frenzy. You liked the way it inspired warmth within your home and brought people together, how a mug of hot chocolate tickled your palms with its heat, sending shivers down your spine as your backyard froze over.

Your boyfriend, Choso, had never gotten the privilege to experience a snowstorm in full flux. You had been excited for him to witness it with you for the first time and prepared the essentials, sparking the fireplace, fixing hot beverages, and putting on soft music that played softly in the background. While you were captured by the weather as the two of you sat on your shared sofa, you in his lap and a heavy blanket wrapped around both of your bodies, the brunette was far more interested in what was transpiring within the room.

His fingers tapped and traced against your thigh, heavy eyes gazing up at you as you rambled on to him about how beautiful the snow looked from there, swirling and dancing about as though it had a mind of its own. He would hum every now and then to show that you had his attention, but he couldn’t deny that he was far more intrigued by you, not by the weather. Not in the slightest.

Jade eyes danced over the movement of your jaw, the occasional pull and part of your soft lips as you spoke. His eyes glazed over, catching each spec of dampness that coated the ridges in your lips as you lifted your mug to your mouth. He studied the way your throat moved as you cautiously drank in the warm liquid, hands cupped gingerly around the ceramic piece, then the way your tongue slid slowly over your top lip to gather the sweetness from the rim of your mouth, pursing your lips inward.

“Cho?”

Your perfect voice sank into his mind as he dragged his eyes away from your mouth to meet yours, pupils blown wide and cheeks dusted with pink from both his recovery from stepping outside and the impact of your contact. You touched the nape of his neck gently, setting your cup down to turn to face him as his hand slid up your back, keeping you upright and close to him, oh so close.

“You okay? You still cold?”

How could he be cold within the embrace of your heat? So enticing, so whole, so full of you. There was no way for him to have been cold as long as he was by your side, heart bursting into flames at the very slightest touch of your fingers. He looked at your slightly concerned face and flustered, still somehow nervous under your gaze though you had been together for close to a month now.

He was prepared to tell you that he was fine when your other hand slid over the curve of his cheekbone to hold his cheek in your palm. His lashes fluttered and he hummed, addicted to you. “A little,” he ended up saying shamelessly, eager for you to press yourself further into him so that he could practically suffocate at your will.

You made a small noise that sounded like a coo and curled impossibly closer into him, wrapping your other arm tighter around his neck as your hand on his cheek brought him up to your lips. Choso melted, allowing you to guide him into your tenderness without hesitation. Your lips met his softly, deftly, and he practically sighed, taken completely by all of you.

“Sorry love,” you whispered against him, kissing softly at the corner of his mouth. “I’ll turn up the heat more.”

The half curse’s eyes almost went wide when he felt you try to move against him. “No,” he stopped you before you could even think of setting a foot to the ground, your legs being held tighter to your boyfriend. You looked at him curiously. “I’m sorry, no, I’m okay. Don’t go anywhere.”

You giggled lightly, understanding. “Okay,” you smiled, kissing him gently again.

Choso relaxed against you, comforted by the fact that he knew you weren’t leaving him. When you moved to pull away from his lips for a second time, Choso was selfishly pressing them back in, fingers digging into the soft fluff of your pajama pants as he kissed you fervently.

You loved kissing your boyfriend. He was always so sweet and needy with the way he kissed, shyly bumping his lips against yours in a peck before breaking away to press in the smallest bit harder, succumbing to the taste of you and regaining a sense of confidence alongside the building desire in his gut. He liked you practically on top of him when he kissed you, hovering over him as he tilted his head to follow your mouth as you straddled his lap, caging him beneath the softness of your face, of your gaze, of your heavenly mouth.

You held his face to yours, the soft symphony of lips smacking rumbling beneath the crackle of the flame before you, providing the only source of dim, delicate light within your living room. The wind proceeded to knock against the window as your legs surrounded Choso’s thighs, his large hands hoisting you up over him and keeping your waist secure, connected. Making out heatedly was the farthest you and Choso had ever gone in regard to your intimate lives, but the way your boyfriend was desperately pressing up into you with an involuntarily buck of his hips toward your crotch, you could tell that there was something more he wanted. That both of you wanted.

You broke away from him slowly to catch his eyes, both pairs sunken with desire. His brows were knitted together desperately, lips parted as he breathed heavily into you and watched you closely, cheeks flustered. “What is it baby?” your voice asked out breathlessly, lips still brushing over his, his head twitching beneath you.

Choso dragged his hands along your legs, from your knees up to your thighs over the fabric of your soft plaid pants. A look of slight embarrassment crossed his face as he looked at you, eager yet unsure of how to express so. “I want…” he started in a weighted exhale, chest falling heavily as you danced your fingers over his neck and his chest. He looked down then back up, distracted yet captured by you, all of you. “I want to feel you,” he sighed.

You could feel something harden against the inside of your thigh the moment the words left him and manifested into reality. Your heart jumped as you studied him, the way his lips twitched slowly when he felt the very same movement below. He looked down again as though pained, sliding his hands to grasp your hips and strained a soft groan.

“S-Sorry,” he grumbled. “I just think… I want you so badly right now,” he confessed earnestly, glancing back up at you sheepishly, your heart palpitating at the adorable sight. “Is that alright?”

God, Choso was so sweet, asking for permission as though you hadn’t already sworn that you were his and his to take whenever either of you were ready. The air around you thickened as the fire glowed warmly against the side of your faces, enhancing the needy gleam in his eyes as he stared up at you, anxiously, lustfully.

“You want me how?”

The pads of his fingers squeezed your hips every now and then as he awaited you, trying so hard to be patient and gauge what you were thinking, what you wanted.

“I want to have sex with you,” his deep voice rumbled out, and you were already aching for him at the thought. While this wasn’t something unexpected to you, you understood that taking your relationship to the next level was a big deal for the both of you.

“Are you sure?” you asked, though you knew that you wanted it so badly. You wanted to show him how much you loved him, to feel him against you in every sense of the word.

You could see your boyfriend falter slightly, doubting himself when you questioned him as though he hadn’t been more sure of anything in his entire life. The light in Choso’s eyes flickered as he nodded rather certainly, pressing his soft lips together.

“Do you want to?”

His question came out so innocently, eyes searching yours in earnest, and you melt for him. “Of course I do, Cho. I love you so much.”

He trembled, hands freezing on your hips. “I love you too,” he murmured, a sudden vibrance in his low tone. He leaned up slightly, seeking your lips again. “I’ve wanted you for so long, (Y/n), please. I’ve been wanting to make you feel good for so long,” he confessed.

Your gut swarmed into a mass of butterflies as he kissed you again, eager for a chance to taste you over and over again until nothing but you was left for him to think of for the rest of time. You fell into him, looping your arms around him and massaging your lips into his slowly, each languid motion of your lips swimming against each other’s dragging out sensually. Choso’s body shivered against you with anticipation, digging his fingers into the skin that poked out under your sweater.

It was mind numbing the way his palms touched over your bare sides, carefully, lovingly.

You gently swiped your tongue over his bottom lip and his hips jerked again, blood, normally under his manipulation, rushing to print into his sweats and against your skin. He parted his lips, welcoming the touch of your tongue against his.

Your wet muscles tangoed together languidly, pushing and swirling over the other, searching for the taste of your warm, wet caverns. The sound of Choso grunting against you spurred you on, your hips pushing eagerly up against his. The brunette’s brows furrowed, the sugary chocolate taste of you from your cocoa smothering him in arousal.

You had him in the palm of your hands wrapped tightly around your finger. He would have done anything for you if you’d asked him if it meant he was gifted the chance of loving you, of touching you, of massaging his tongue into your mouth and drawing out precious soft moans that complemented the groans building in his throat, of smoothing his unsteady hands over the fat of your bum and pushing you up into him to meet the third buck of his hips. You could have done anything to him, and he would have thanked you, thrusting up into the heat of your thighs as your hands ran over his face.

You pulled away to duck your head gracefully, lips meeting just under his jaw in a feather light peck. Choso’s breath hitched in his throat, his chin tilting back subconsciously as your mouth melted over his throat, the affectionate graze of your lips and tongue sending his body into flames. You knew exactly how to work him up without even going farther than kissing him, pressing your chest to his and curling your fingers into the roots of his hair.

Your kisses marked over his neck and swam down to his collarbone, pressing with such love and care as though you were taking all the time in the world to appreciate him. “Take off your shirt for me, Cho,” you leaned into his ear to tell him, each motion you took and word you spoke making his head spin with their angelic, yet seductive tone. He didn’t even fix his mouth to say anything before he was already reaching down to tug his shirt over his head with the help of your soft hands.

You watched as he peeled the fabric over his head, pale abdominals flexing deliciously as his elbows rose up and his shirt caught over his face. He finally popped his head from, dropping the shirt onto the floor beside him and relocking his eyes with yours, seeking your next request. You ran your hands slowly over his skin, detailing each bump and scar over his enormous pecs and all the way down to his well defined v-line teasing out of his pants. Choso watched the trek of your pretty hands intensely, inhaling slowly and sharply through his nose as they traveled lower and lower.

You unwrapped your legs from around his waist to scoot yourself back, leaning down to kiss softly across the milky skin of his chest. He jerked beneath you, sucking in a breath. “Relax, baby,” you murmured, and he obeyed.

Choso didn’t like the fact that you were climbing off of him, but once he saw where you were headed, his mind went fuzzy. You reached down to the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging slowly with your lips to his abdomen, revealing the tent poking angrily against his boxers. His eyes went wide, heart racing in his chest and hand hesitantly reaching down to you.

“(Y/n), you don’t have to-”

“Shhh,” you shushed him. You dotted kisses to the outside of his underwear’s fabric, sweatpants pooling around his knees now. You glanced up over your lashes to catch the beautiful sight of your boyfriend staring down at you through heavy lids and sharp violet eyes over his nose, brown locks sweeping handsomely over his forehead and around his shoulders. “Is this okay?” you asked in a murmur, lips ghosting over the bulge of his throbbing dick. You puckered your lips softly over his print and he reached to grip the side of the sofa, grinding his teeth together and jutting his hips toward your nose.

“F-Fuck,” he hissed out, nodding rapidly. “Yeah… yeah, that’s more than okay.”

That was all you needed to hear before you were hooking your finger into his boxers and lazily, watching with unwavering focus as his happy trail unveiled itself just seconds before his pretty cock was springing free and slapping up against his stomach. Choso winced, desperately holding back a moan as you helped him tug off the rest of his lower garments.

His eyes were trained on you as though he would die if he looked away, your lips teasingly meeting the skin surrounding his shaft before they touched it gently. He whimpered, moving to slap his hand over his mouth to prevent himself from making any further noise. You hummed against him, sliding your lips up to his angry red tip, already oozing dots of precum as you hovered over him. You eased your tongue over it, wrapping your lips after to suck the inch of liquid away with a pop.

“Hah-” Choso gasped, muscles tensing and flexing beneath you in pleasure. He wanted more, more of your lips, more of your tongue on his aching length. You looked so gorgeous, wrapping your fingers around his base with your eyes glued to his, watching each reaction you pulled out of him when you licked a long stripe along the side of his long, veiny dick, so heavy in your hand. “(Y/n),” he sighed raggedly, biting onto the back of his knuckle with curled brows. He needed you so badly, it was beginning to hurt. “Please, please keep going.”

“I’ve got you, baby,” you reminded him, and he was whimpering, tension easing away as your other hand smoothed over his beefy thigh, lips circling to finally capture the whole of his leaking to tip in your mouth. Choso choked on a strained sigh, hips bucking once more involuntarily, jolting the upper half of his length further into your mouth accidentally.

“Shit, I’m sorry, m’sorry,” he breathed. “Just felt so- so g-”

He couldn’t even finish his sentence when your hand started stroking up and down over the base of his cock, rotating in a painfully slow, circular motion while your tongue swirled over his tip, lips sucking around his girth gently. Choso moaned, a long, shredded, deep sound that sent a throb straight to your clit. You immediately determined that this sound he released was the most astounding thing you had ever heard in your life and continued with your mouth’s movements, bobbing your head to take him into the drooling, heated pool of your mouth.

“Baby,” he groaned, eyes fluttering as he lowered his knuckles from his mouth to place his hand atop your head, smoothing affectionately over your hair as you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him off. The sound of your slurps hit Choso’s ears as you hand continued to rub his length, squeezing your hand around him ever so gently before wrapping the other hand around just above, synchronizing the strokes in opposite directions.

Choso’s jaw fell open, hot shallow breaths escaping his parted lips while he watched you, your head ducking to take more of him as his tip slid against the warm silkiness of the roof of your mouth repeatedly. He had fallen in love with the feeling of your lips and the touch of your hands long ago, but as both swallowed the whole of his twitching length while your hums of satisfaction vibrated against his sensitive cock, he was falling in love all over again.

He squirmed beneath you, broken moans and whines spilling past his lips, unable to tear his eyes away from the gorgeous sight of slobber spilling down his girth and smearing over your lips from your mouth, yet his eyelids proceeded to weigh lower over his jaded irises, breath pattern growing uneven.

“Baby, please,” he murmured, voice pitching into a warbled whimper. You picked up your pace, bobbing up and down faster and slurping him into you as though he was your last meal. It was disgusting, the way his precum leaked into your spit and dribbled down your chin, dripping onto his balls and soaking the couch, though the loving stroke of his hand over your head contrasted the sloppiness. His hips bucked again, slowly pushing to meet the bob of your head so that he was gently fucking your throat. He moaned out loudly, his head falling back and eyes falling shut, Adam’s apple bouncing. He was completely lost in pleasure, conquered by your beautiful lips sucking prettily over his cock.

“Please, please, please, ah, f-fuck, keep- ngh- going baby. Please, it’s so- so good…”

He was so mouthy. You absolutely loved every bit of it. You could feel him twitching inside you, signifying that he was already close to finishing. You moaned around him sweetly, tucking your head and pushing forward to take all of him to the back of your throat, hands pressing against his sides to give your mouth room. You were overzealous, taking for more than you were capable of, but you wanted to see Choso’s eyes roll into the back of his head. You wanted to hear those gorgeous moans roll from his tongue, you wanted to taste all of his perfect cock, sliding in and out of your throat until you were choking.

“Ahhh, fuckkk! babyyy, fuck, oh my fucking godddd,” he whined, a mess of himself as he pathetically humped into you.

Your own eyes rolled into your head as you bobbed rapidly over him, tip hitting to the back of your throat with sinful plunging sounds. You were whining into him as he groaned out, writhing beneath you as his balls tightened. You felt his hand still upon you, grasping gently into your hair. His head lifted suddenly again to catch the vision of you, eyes watery and lips drenched over his dick; a sight to behold. “Y’so- so pretty, baby, please- fuck, I can’t- feels so good, so gooddd-“

It didn’t take long for him to snap, plunging your head downward and stilling in your throat, hot ropes of his cum decorating the inside of your mouth as he moaned, eyes dazed and rolling backward, voiced gasps heaving from his chest.

You took it all, swallowing generously as his cum trickled down your throat and spilled from the sides of your mouth. His body went limp beneath you, grip in your hair loosening as you sat up and popped his length from your mouth. You gazed down at him as his thumb reached to swipe away streaks of cum from your chin.

He was coated in a shiny layer of sweat and his brown hair stuck to his flushed skin, chest expanding and toned muscles gleaming in the firelight and afterglow of his orgasm. “Baby,” he whispered and you smiled softly, lifting up to straddle him again and wrap him into your arms, his own following and winding around you sleepily, securing you to his bare body.

He tucked his nose into the crook of your neck as he held you, struggling to adjust to reality once more as he continued to recover from the finish you gave him. “You okay? I didn’t mean to grab you like that,” he muttered with a hush into your skin, melting his hands beneath your sweater and up your back as he savored you against him, closing his eyes and breathing you in.

“Don’t worry, baby, I liked it,” you whispered to him, and you could feel him sigh in relief against you.

“Good, because you made me feel… amazing,” he praised gently. “I love your mouth. Love your hands so much, so so much. Felt so good…”

He was kissing your neck, then your cheek, and pulling back to kiss your swollen lips, tasting a hint of himself lingering on your tongue.

“You take your shirt off now. It’s your turn,” he said tenderly, raising it over your hand from inside of the fabric.

The brown haired man looked down over your bare torso, your perfect tits sitting upright over your smooth stomach, (s/c) skin capturing the fire light enchantingly. You flushed under his gaze, his purple eyes roaming every inch of your figure with swelling ardor.

“Let me see you, beautiful,” he pleaded, stroking over the plush of your shoulder then down, over your chest and grazing at your hardened nipple. You flinched and he looked up in a panic.

“Sorry-“

“No, Cho, it’s okay,” you reassured him, grabbing his wrists and guiding his hands to cup your breasts within his palms. “Just sensitive… but it feels nice when your hands are on them.”

He soaked in the sight, the feeling, hands curving around the plush fat, groping them experimentally within his large palms. You let out a weak sigh, lips parting and back arching slightly. The brunette caught the reaction with haste, heart skipping a beat. “Like this?” he rolled his thumb lightly over one of your nipples and you shuddered.

“Y-Yes, just like that.”

The brunette snatched your response as a means to continue eagerly. He moved to hold your back as he adjusted the both of you, laying you back on the end of the couch as he climbed over top of you with your legs still hooked around his torso, settling you onto the soft cushions with ease. You looked bashfully up at him, the confidence you had moments ago when sucking his dick fading surprisingly fast as he caged over you, his large frame trapping you beneath his. You felt vulnerable like this, lying beneath your boyfriend with your tits out, but you wouldn’t have had it any other way with any other person.

Choso’s sweat-dampened hands reached back over your tits, squeezing them generously as he watched the plush fat jiggle like fluid within his grasp. He was mesmerized, captivated by your body. “So pretty,” he marveled to himself, running his tongue over his damp lips hungrily. He glanced up at you to ensure that he was still in the clear, your dizzy (e/c) eyes granting him all the permission in the world.

There was no stopping him now. He had your beautiful body to explore, to please, to worship. There was nothing on this planet that would have been able to pull him away from you.

The brunette ducked down in a similar fashion you had earlier when you kissed his chest, and took the whole of your nipple into his mouth, sucking graciously. Your back arched, chest curving forward and into his jaw. He groaned, gripping your tit tighter and lapping hungrily at your bud. You writhed in response to the sensation, the sensitivity in your nipples heightening the more Choso took advantage. You reached your hands out to the sides of his face, holding him as he pressed his groin down into your crotch, securing your body with his length pressed into you, twitching.

“Ngh- Cho,” you gasped, head tilting backward. Your boyfriend knew he was doing something right when your head moved the exact same way he did when you were sucking him off.

Choso closed his eyes with you, relishing in his bliss as he released your nipple to move over to the other one. He kissed the skin passionately, sucking bruises all over your breasts, guided by his lust for the taste of your skin. Your tits were perfect, soft and malleable at his will. He would have died like this if he could.

He lifted his head to kiss your cheek, then your forehead, then nose and mouth and chin. “Perfect,” he exhaled in between kisses. “You’re perfect, so perfect, (Y/n),” he babbled nonsensically, ducking back down to your chest then slowly traveling down your stomach, lips finding any piece of skin he possibly could.

When he reached your pants, he kissed along the fat of your thigh through the fabric, greedy to feel more, to see more, to taste more of the girl he knew to be the very love of his life.. You squeaked as the purple eyed man climbed off of the couch and crouched down at the side of it, tugging you carefully toward him by the hem of your pants. He lowered himself down to his knees, your upper back now propped up against the couch’s vertical cushions.

Choso looked up at you lovingly as he moved to tug your pants down your legs. His eyes flickered down at the motion, you helping him by shimmying out of the article of clothing. He studied the manner in which the fabric peeled down the plush of your soft thighs, teasingly revealing her skin to him.

He took a moment to take in the sight of your bare body and the lace pair of black panties that adorned her bottom half. A weighted, eager breath escaped his lips as he pushed your thighs open slowly, smoothing his lips sluggishly over your inner thighs. He could smell you all over him, and the arousal seeping from your cunt and soaking your underwear.

Choso was losing his mind.

He gradually made his way further toward your clothed heat, elongating the process so that he could absorb as much of you as he possibly could on his own time. The tip of his nose brushed over the lace that stretched over your skin, pecking lightly over where your clit happened to be located.

He knew that he had hit some sort of target when your legs jolted around him. “Is that sensitive too?” he asked and you nodded, breathlessly.

“Yeah, baby, right there,” you affirmed, and something possessive spurring within him had him swiftly dragging your panties off to see more.

A sting of arousal stretched as he shed you of your underwear, leading him to fixate his gaze upon your glistening entrance. He practically salivated, digging his fingers into the outside of her thighs whilst his elbows rested beneath them. He tugged you close so that his breath fanned over your wet pussy. “Gorgeous,” he praised again.

He ducked back down, fingers sinking into the plump flesh of your thighs, and flattened his tongue at the base of her lips experimentally, dragging it slowly along her lips and gathering her wetness on his warm tongue.

God. You tasted amazing.

You mewled out and Choso watched you intently from between your legs, the taste of you so sweet in his mouth. A low, satisfied groan rumbled through his chest and he dove back in with sudden urgency. Your hands flew to his soft brown tangles, gripping tightly as his tongue swirled around your pussy slowly.

“Oh my god,” you moaned, eyes fluttering shut as your body surrendered itself to bliss. Choso grunted, his own eyes closing as he licked you out passionately, skin setting itself ablaze as he devoured your fruit with the same intensity that you had taken with him. “Cho, baby, yes,” you begged, fistfuls of his hair scrunched within your fists.

If your words weren’t enough to keep him going, the way you tugged at his hair sent his body into overdrive. Pathetic moans flew from your mouth, leading the half curse to tighten his hold around you and secure your lower half to his face.

His tongue lapped hungrily at your throbbing cunt while his lips smoothed over your clit, sucking you into the heat of his mouth as he took dominance over your weakness. Your legs squirmed around his head, ankles locking over his shoulders and around his neck. He was suffocated by you, happily, both restricting himself and you from escaping.

He was so good at this.

His pace suddenly quickened, tongue darting in and out of your walls as he switched between motions. The sinful sound of slurping echoed throughout your living space, your moans picking up volume along with it.

Choso glided his tongue from your core to the bundle of nerves above it, kissing it gently before taking it between his lips and sucking. You cried out, grip tightening on his hair to the point where it had begun to cause pain, but the pain only made Choso’s dick harder as he sucked graciously onto your delicious clit. He couldn’t get enough.

You started to try to squirm away, for the sensation had begun to prove to be too much. Your legs shivered and your fingers tugged wildly at Choso’s hair. The pale skinned man groaned helplessly in desperate opposition, locking his fingers together over your abdomen so that you could no longer move around. “Please don’t go, baby,” he murmured, muffled by your dripping pussy around his lip. “You taste so good, need to keep tasting you.” The motions of his tongue continued, faster, adding more pressure.

“Fuck, feels so good, Cho,” you exclaimed mindlessly, voice straining into a high-pitched moan.

Choso proceeded faster, gluttonous for your juices and for the sound of his name from your mouth.

You arched yourself further into him, chasing the approach of your incoming high. “‘M ‘so close,” you whined, thighs tightening around his head. “St-Stick a finger inside, baby. Please. Please.”

Choso moaned into you, desperate to oblige to make you feel good because of him. He released one of his hands to creep it back under your thigh. He focused his mouth’s attention solely on your clit while his middle finger slipped past your folds and into the warmth of your dripping cunt. You cried as Choso started at a slow pace, thrusting his finger in and out, a squelching sound accompanying the slurp of his tongue over your messy cunt.

His fingers quickly matched the pace of his tongue, pistoning in and out with remarkable speed. He could feel your slick coating his fingers as your walls quivered around them, unable to hold on much longer.

“Do it, beautiful, please,” he begged, groaning as your pussy bumped to ride against him.

A tingling sensation rose in your lower abdomen as your high came crashing down suddenly. Your grip in Choso’s hair went taut and your legs locked around his head, hips grinding into his face and his now two fingers. Choso furrowed his brows, riding you through his climax as slick dribbled onto his palm and down your thighs onto the couch.

Choso had no intention of stopping even after your orgasm had occurred. His mind had become a puddle, his mouth slurping up your sticky, creamy arousal without a moment’s break. He was obsessed with you, with your pussy, with how it soaked his chin and his fingers and the floor. He couldn’t stop, hungrier than he had been before, nothing but the intoxicating taste of your cunt occupying his head. He snapped his fingers from inside of you and gripped your thighs again, pushing them upward so that your knees dangled by her ears.

“Just let me get a little bit more, sweetheart,” he whispered headedly against your pussy. “So pretty, you taste so good, can’t stop yet. Not yet, please.”

You sobbed, releasing his hair to push at his head, but Choso was a man on a mission. He was enamored by the taste of you, completely whipped by the way your cunt responded to his mouth. Your helpless pussy continued to leak arousal, smearing his face and drooling into the puddle beneath you. His tongue moved faster, and faster, lapping you up for everything you were worth.

Your toes curled and your clit throbbed from overstimulation, tears pooling into the corners of her eyes. Your moans had transitioned into desperate pleas and ragged, messy wails. It drove Choso insane.

“Too much! M’gonna cum again- AH!”

The entire bottom half of your body was shaking, legs soaked, but Choso didn’t care. He wanted to keep hearing you cry for him. He was addicted, starving.

He proceeded his torture, the melodious symphony of your begs filling his ears. He shuddered, dragging his tongue from your sopping entrance back up to your clit in rapid circles. His grip on your thighs was sure to leave marks, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was your pussy in his mouth, responding to him at his will.You were so good, so delicious.

He couldn’t stop.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, a knot building in your stomach along with a foreign urge to pee. You tried once more to scramble away, but Choso’s incredible strength left you completely stuck.

“Choso!” you cried, and with that, you came once again, a stream of liquid flying from your core the moment Choso finally broke away. His chin and neck were sprayed with your squirt, his eyes watching in a trance as it sprouted out and onto his skin. You twitched uncontrollably, tensing until you collapsed back into the cushions, completely spent.

The brunette stood quickly, climbing back over top of you and maneuvering you to lay back once more. “(Y/n)?” he called out, caressing your damp skin and looking over you with worried eyes. You hummed in a trance, peeling your blurry eyes back open to see your boyfriend hovering over you again, his chest and chin dripping with your slick over his flushed skin. “Are you okay? I’m sorry, I got carried away. You just tasted so good, baby, I’m sorry,” he apologized nonsensically and you shook your head, smiling gently and reaching for his shoulders. He ducked down for you, allowing your hands to grasp around his neck. He swiped the back of his hand over his chin, eying you worriedly.

“That felt amazing, Cho,” you told him softly, watching the concern melt away to be replaced by bashful pride and longing. “I’ve never felt like that before.”

He cradled your arm to lower it and bring your hand to his lips in a soft kiss. “Really?” his eyes gleamed and you nodded.

“C’mere,” you tugged at him, and he was pressed into you without a second to spare. His lips were hot, the strong scent of you consuming your senses as he kissed you tenderly, smoothing over the aches in your legs and guiding them back around his waist, arms caging either side of your head as your fingers tickled the side of his jaw.

Below, you felt his still hardened length brush against your clit and you jumped, breaking away to look down. Choso caught your gaze and smoothed a hand over your face. “We can stop if you’re tired,” he said to you. “You’ve already done so much.”

You shook your head, holding him close and kissing against his temple. “No,” you denied. “Want you inside me now, Cho.”

How much more sexy could you possibly get?

Choso’s heart was pounding once more, dick jumping in reaction to your words. Violet hues sank into yours as he asked again. “You’re positive, baby?”

“Yes,” you exhaled, kissing the outside of his ear and nuzzling your nose against his skin. “Please.”

You were going to kill him one of these days, he was sure.

He groaned softly, holding your gaze when you pulled back to look at him, eye contact deep enough to cast a peek into the array of stars and galaxies above. You reached your hand down, holding his stare, and gently wrapped your fingers around his dick. His lips parted as you stroked softly, before guiding him toward you. He helped, cradling his weighted cock and aiming it toward your drenched hole, smearing the tip past your lips to find it.

“Oh god,” he sighed. You were so slippery, so welcoming. His eyes bored into yours when he found it, pressing and sliding inside, sheathing his girthy cock into your slick coated heat gradually. You gripped his shoulders tightly, feeling the way his length stretched the walls of your pussy so drastically. You gritted your teeth together, pressing your forehead against Choso’s as he leaned his against yours, harsh breaths meeting each other’s. He trained his eyes on the scene below, his fat cock sinking into your folds, your slick gathering around his shaft the moment he bottomed out.

You moaned out together, pressing in close and entangling your limbs. Choso slammed his lips into yours sloppily, stilling the second he was fully inside of you. “You’re so tight, baby-ngh- hah-!” he exhaled against your lips.

You clenched around him, adjusting to his mass as you swallowed him into you. “Cho-s’big,” you murmured, your words babbling into nonsense.

“Gonna move now,” he warned you, sliding back out slowly, the veins in his pretty cock dragging against your walls. “Gonna- fuckkkk,” he was already pushing back into you, a singular squelch resounding from your connection. “Oh, baby,” he whimpered. “So goodddd.”

“Cho,” you whined, clawing at his toned back. “Keep moving, Cho, I need it. I need you so bad, please fuck me, baby.”

“‘Kay, baby, okay. I’ll t-take it slow, I’ll- mmm… shit…”

He slid back out of you and plunged in again, dragging the motion out so you could feel every inch of him press into you. You moaned, muscles in your face releasing as pleasure overcame your expression, Choso’s hand gripping your waist tightly as he set an uneven, perfect, languid pace. Your heels dug into his lower back, knees bumping against his sides as he thrusted carefully into you, holding you as though you were a piece of glass he was afraid to watch break. You were a mess beneath him, mewling and murmuring nonsense as his loud breaths came down over you, his hair mashing against your forehead before he ducked his head into your shoulder, his back muscles flexing with each thrust of his hot length into your greedy pussy.

“Choso,” you begged, the sensation of his dick filling you up so wholly turning you to sap at his hand, indescribable ecstasy waving over your body and washing away any previous discomfort. Your swollen clit bumped against the ridge of his abs with his thrusts, sending shivers down your spine as she quivered into his mass.

“Nghhh, fuckkkk, y’feel so good inside me, Cho. So good, I can feel all of youuuu!”

Choso was so loud in your ear, panting, choking over his groans, growling, whimpering, moaning. His voice was so hot when desperate for you, rugged and heavy, blazing with the pleasure that overtook him as your walls suctioned around his dick, dragging him in. “I can- ngh- f-feel you too, baby, so good,” he blabbered, kissing across your neck, his hair tickling your chin. Your fingers dragged down his back, eyes hazy as he murmured sweet nothings into you. “So pretty, so fucking pretty. I need you, baby, need to be inside you. Just like this pretty, oh my god…”

He was making love to you so passionately, tucking his arms under and around your waist as you tightened your legs over him, arms wrapping him to you tightly as he speared deep into your walls. The wind proceeded to howl against the window, but neither of you paid the snow any further mind, far too enraptured with the conjoining of your bodies, of your souls, of your love.

“Love you, Cho,” you whimpered, gasping loudly when a sting of arousal pooled from around his dick, dripping over your ass and smacking into his hips against yours lewdly. “Love you s’much,” you cried, moaning louder when his pace fastened.

“Love you too,” he whined into you. “Love you, m-more than anyth’ng, love the way you feel, love your pussy so much, so so much. I love you.”

“I love you!”

You didn’t know how long the two of you were on that couch that night, or whether the storm had passed or not. Skin slapping against skin lifted over the roar of the fire partnered by your escalating moans, which could have likely been heard down the hall in your apartment complex, but it didn’t matter.

What mattered was Choso lips crushing against your jaw, murmuring proclamations of devotion and praise over your being and your beautiful pussy, gripping him and dragging two more orgasms out of his body, onto your stomach and deep inside your heat. What mattered was the push of your tits against his pecs as your bodies rocked into the cushions, fucking each other for all you were worth and for all that you mean to one another. What mattered was your breathless pleas, your loving embrace, your second, third spray of fluids over Choso’s abdomen.

What mattered was your love, how beautifully the two of you had consummated it, and how you simultaneously kept each other warm in the midst of the storm.

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pedgito · 3 months

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𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐘 | Joel Miller x reader

summary | you've got an issue and joel's willing to solve it. after all, what are neighbors for?

author's note | this was a prompt from a meet-weird thing i saw ages ago that was originally supposed to be javi, but jo (@undercoverpena) gave me the beautiful idea of making it joel and it spurred this monster.

content warning | established friendship, caught during sex, does the apocalypse having working appliances? probably not, but for the sake of this fic distend belief i beg. oral (eating out from the back), unprotected piv, subtly cocky!joel miller, he's a good ass neighbor, okay?, unbeta'd.

word count — 5.6k

Joel’s fixed this damn machine seven times, convincing himself every time that it was the last time. Shocker, it wasn’t. This time didn’t even last a month. He’s desperate now.

He would usually haul the load all the way to the communal laundry house closer to the group of joined townhomes that housed most of the younger adults—the spry and bright-faced ones who sprung up at the mention of patrol or work, any prospect of toting a gun around with any sense of leadership. They were eager, he couldn’t say the same for himself.

He was old, weathered—years of routine he had created to get the job done and get the hell home.

And truthfully, as he tapped the wrench against the metal machine, chin tucked into his palm as he scratched at his beard, he almost complied with the idea that he would just have to tough it out. Scrounging for parts was nearly impossible—dumb luck, really. In the past several years they’ve picked this town clean, bone-dry.

He’s elbow deep inside the barrel of the dryer when he hears the knock at his door, bumping his head against the rim of it as he exits and cursing under his breath as he pushes to stand, joints creaking and popping in disapproval.

He can smell you before he sees you, the familiar scent of fresh-baked goods following you everywhere—Joel couldn’t feel guilt for being one of the folks addicted to your cooking.

Grains had been hard to come by since the epidemic hit, everything was tainted on a global level. It took years and years of Jackson growing its own stock of wheat for things like pie or a nice, gooey cinnamon roll to even be plausible anymore. But, they were managing well so far.

“Saved ‘em for you and Ellie,” You tell him, a small plate of still hot brownies covered with parchment paper, dawning that trademark smile that Joel has come to love, tapping his fingers against the door frame as he passes the plate off to a quickly approaching Ellie.

“Girl’s got the nose of a basset hound,” Joel looks on in amused bewilderment as Ellie throws a mouth-stuffed thanks over her shoulder, “sorry ‘bout her.”

You wave her off whole-heartedly, taking in his sweaty appearance and casual attire. You were used to him in jeans and thick flannels, not a graphic tee and pair of sleep pants. He’s almost always dressed like he had to run at a moment's notice, you weren’t even sure he owned anything different until now.

“Everything good?” You question him, a small laugh escaping your throat.

“Damn washer and dryer is out again,” Joel explains, throwing a hand vaguely over his shoulder.

“Both of them this time?” You ask, “Damn.”

“I can fix ‘em, just a matter of finding the right parts,” Joel tells you, “ looks like I’m gonna have to hand wash again.”

Joel was a friend. You helped friends. It seemed like a no-brainer really, opening your mouth without thinking it through, the kindness tumbling out despite yourself.

“Oh, you’re welcome to load yours up at mine,” You offer and Joel looks immediately apprehensive, the southern charm and well-mannered tone gearing to creep up on you.

“Now, I don’t mean to make you feel like you have to—”

“Joel, I wouldn’t offer it if I didn’t feel comfortable with it,” You remind him, “seriously—anytime, just try and bring your own detergent—and for the love of god, empty your pockets before you put ‘em in.”

Joel chuckles tiredly at that, rolling his eyes as he nods in agreement.

“Got it, of course, sweetheart.”

“I leave an extra key under the rug, so if I’m ever not home just come in,” Given that Joel was Tommy’s brother, you knew he wouldn’t be up to any trouble, “sound good?”

“Yep. Anytime—just make myself at home.” Joel confirms and you nod with an even wider smile, waving a pleasant goodbye as you trailed down the stairs and made your way to the house you inhabited next door.

Right, anytime.

Unfortunately, Joel took that a little too literally.

Joel managed to scrounge up the courage a day later, tumbling into his house on tired legs after a lengthy patrol up at the cabin lookout, scooping the basket up in his arms and heading out his front door, taking the short walk to your house.

The lights were off, but that wasn’t unusual. Joel knew you liked to stay late nights in the town’s mess hall, often working on prep for the following morning to make the load a little lighter and sleep in a while longer, so when he fishes under the doormat for the key he thinks nothing of it.

And as the door swings open, it is still fairly quiet. Though, he can hear your own dryer running upstairs. He’s got the layout down too, having shared more than a few nightcaps with you. Friend to friend and nothing more, even if you had always felt a little more strongly toward being affectionate. A hug or a kiss on the cheek from time to time, he never pushed you away. Joel never seemed like the type of man who openly showed affection, even toward a friend. But, he was good, reliable–most of the time.

He reaches the stairs with trepidation as the sounds grow louder and part of him wonders if by some uncanny coincidence your dryer might be growling and rumbling on its own final leg.

The moment his hand reaches that doorknob and turns he realizes he’s made a mistake.

He’s caught you at a…bad time. Head thrown back with your mouth hung wide, whatever noise you’re making was mostly drowned out by the nagging sound of the dryer as it tore through the spin cycle but he hears the tailend of it, a soft moan of pleasure from the man who’s buried inside of you right now, both of you naked from the waist down but your breasts on full display with your shirt tucked under your neck.

“Benny?” Joel asks, slightly amused.

You lift your head at the sound and spot him, your feet nearly slipping out from under you as you scramble to push Benny away, who perks with an even more perplexed, “Joel?”

“Goddamn it, Joel,” You curse behind gritted teeth, furiously readjusting yourself, pulling your sweats back on and over your ass and your shirt down, “What are you doing here?”

Joel looks down at the basket still clinging to his hip before back up at you, wordlessly.

You sigh through your nose with a tight lipped frown, cheeks puffing out as you brushed your fingers through your hair and down—Benny was still scrambling to redress behind you, unable to pull his gaze away from Joel.

“Benny?” Joel mouths at you quietly, eyebrows raised curiously.

You walk toward the now open door slowly as Benny buttons his pants and you shoot Joel daggers with your stern gaze.

Cut it out.

Joel smirks slightly, cheek dimpling with the action as he side-steps Benny, who leans around you and kisses your cheek—it was a kind gesture but given the situation, in horrible taste. You force a polite smile and once Benny is a far enough distance you hit Joel firmly in the arm as he passes by you and into the laundry room.

You walk Benny to the door with a million thoughts racing through your head, offering a distracted goodbye before you’re locking the door and racing back upstairs with determined footsteps and Joel has already loaded his clothes in the washer, turning the knob to set the load size and time.

“Benny?” He echoes his earlier questions, “Really?”

“What? Are you judging me?”

“No—just, that kid’s had quite an obsession with you for some time now. Just…surprised is all.”

Your lips pull together in a disapproving but nonchalant frown, taking his words for the bullshit they are.

“When I said anytime that did not extend to the middle of the night, Joel.”

“You’re usually still at work,” He supplies—and really, he’s not wrong, “M’sorry. I mean that.”

“Well, now I’ve gotta deal with the fact you’ve seen me naked,” You cross your arms over your chest and lean against the doorframe and Joel’s eyes track you for a moment, smiling with amusement at the thought.

“What? You want a fair trade?” Joel teases, “‘Cause, darlin’. I don’t mind—but it was an accident. Besides, ain’t nothin’ I haven’t seen before.”

He means it in a broader sense, but you can’t help the eye roll it induces.

“No, no,” You chew at your bottom lip, watching Joel place the empty basket on top of the washer, “I can finish that up if you want to get some sleep. I know you had a long patrol today.”

“Oh, did you?”

He’s teasing you.

“Don’t push it, old man,” Joel shakes his head at that jab and chuckles, “Ellie clued me in when she picked up some sandwiches for her and Dina earlier.

He’s not going to pass on the offer, though. He nods, rubbing a hand over his tired face.

“Jesus—just…Benny?” Joel reiterates again, “Didn’t think the kid had it in ‘em.”

“Out,” You say with an over-pronunciation as you drag his slow and progressive steps further out of your laundry room and into the hall, “or you’re off my dessert list for a month, Miller.”

Joel smiles at you knowingly, “You wouldn’t dare,” He retorts, knowing you too well.

You wouldn’t make him suffer like that. Or Ellie, who wouldn’t hesitate to murder Joel if he robbed her of that pleasure. Not literally…but, she would carry a few choice words for him.

“Seriously, though, thank you,” He nods, leaning down to press a kiss into the crown of your head—an often familiar gesture when you parted after a long night of nonsensical talk and a couple glasses of wine or whiskey, depending on how hard the day had been, “I appreciate it, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, yeah—”

“And I do apologize for…not knocking and showin’ up at such a weird time.”

You shrug, “You’re forgiven. Just…don’t give Benny a hard time. He’s a good guy.”

“You’ve got my word, darlin’.”

Joel was determined to be on his best behavior, clearly.

It takes Joel a couple weeks to find the parts he needs and luckily there are no more run-ins on your midnight sex-scapades, still feeling the embarrassment from the first one. Joel doesn’t even seem to remember it after a couple days, thankfully. He was bypassing it for your own benefit, truthfully. And you knew that.

Selfishly, you're glad to have your appliances back to yourself.

They’re good, solid, reliable—until they aren’t.

Your washer shits itself mid-load and you can hear it from downstairs. A loud screeching noise before an even louder pop that has you groaning loudly because you know. You can feel it.

You can’t even bring yourself to go check, peering through the window of your kitchen and catching a fresh pot of coffee in the house across from yours, a man coming into view and his stark white shirt contrasting the black coffee cup in his hands. He catches you out of the corner of his eye and looks at you with a quizzical amusement, smile tugging at his face.

Joel was always up before the sun rose, so with the sun just creeping into the sky you’re sure that’s his third or fourth cup of coffee. He reaches over his sink and fiddles with the latch on his window before heaving it up, watching as you struggled to do that same but eventually managed.

“You run outta coffee again?” He asks, sipping at the bitter, black coffee in his mug.

“No,” You reply quickly, slightly exasperated as you chew at your bottom lip, debating how to pop the question and feeling nervous under Joel’s intense gaze, curiously wondering if he’s still picturing you naked. He’s never explicitly mentioned it since, but you have caught him in the act.

Wandering eyes, gazes catching when your back is turned for half a second as you bend down or move in a way that exposes too much skin.

“My washer broke,” You cut to the chase and Joel chuckles at how comical it is, in hindsight.

Was this karma? It was definitely karma.

You’ve never asked Joel for anything—despite your often bouts of kindness toward him you never expected anything in return, not even a favor.

“Doors open,” Joel nods toward his front door out of view, an invitation like you offered him.

You didn’t even hesitate, pushing the window close and bounding up the stairs.

You’re already loading your things into his washer before he appears around the corner, peeking his head in, coffee cup still in hand as he takes a few more steps and leans against the wall beside the washing machine and your eyes glance at him briefly before you continue moving the clothes, watching him watch you from behind the rim of his mug.

“I can start them and come back,” You tell him, “so I won’t be lingering around here all day.”

“No Benny?”

You stand up as you close the washer, deadpan stare pointed in his direction.

“You can be such a nosy neighbor, you know that?”

Joel shrugs, a smug smile covered behind his sip of coffee.

“It was just a few times. Besides he’s…too much for me.”

You turn the dial to start the load and it rumbles to life with a simple press of a button.

“You wanna talk about it?”

It wasn’t completely unnatural for you two—you knew quite a bit about Joel now: his life before, his work, his daughter…all things that come with trust and time. He’s waited patiently for you and you’ve given him peeks into your life, but nothing like this.

“It’s a long story, Joel.”

“Got time,” He smiles slightly, “I’ll go grab you a cup of coffee—sit down.”

You look around briefly, not a chair in sight. So, you raise yourself up just enough that you can slide your ass over the top of the washer, bare feet dangling off the floor and you wait, the subtle and quiet shake from the beginning of the load process keeping the awkward silence at bay.

Joel turns the corner a few minutes later with your cup, made up just to your liking and you nod with a gentle smile, taking the cup from his hand and allowing yourself a few generous sips.

“So—that night, you caught us,” You can laugh at the instances now, so you do in a soft, clipped manner, “it wasn’t the first—it had been a month by that point and he just caught me by surprise, showed up that night and things just got a little out of hand.”

Joel’s eyebrows raise in interest but he urges you to continue, leaning against the wall in front of you now, resting his mug on the shelf just above his head as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“He’s a good guy, don’t get me wrong—but I don’t do serious…I can’t, now with how things are. And I know a lot of people think the opposite, seize the moment and all that shit,” You sigh, a deep and heavy sound that expands and releases from your chest, “he was already talking about moving in, the idea of us having kids—so that night I just tried to distract him.”

“With sex? Seems a little…counter-productive, don’t you think?”

“Don’t judge me, Joel,” You warn him but it’s edged with a playfulness that Joel recognizes. You didn’t have a mean, deceptive bone in your body and Joel knew that from the first conversation he had with you.

“I needed him to shut up,” You groan at the thought of the conversation as it replays in your mind, “I’m trying to wash my clothes, he’s talking to me about babies. I do not want kids, Joel. Ever. At least none that are biologically mine. Who would want to bring a kid into this world?”

Well…Tommy. The thought comes to you after the words have already left your mouth and your heart sinks into your stomach, looking at Joel apologetically.

“Sweetheart, don’t even try to apologize. Ain’t nothing wrong with it.”

“It makes me sound horrible, I know but—”

“I’ve done my time—it’s none of my business how others choose to live. Besides, I’m pushing sixty, I don’t have to worry about all that…sorry, I’m not trying to be crude here.”

You nod knowingly with a smirk tugging at your lips, taking another sip of coffee before handing the mug off for him to place it next to his own, ready to slide off of the washer before Joel interjects with another question that catches you off guard.

“He treat you right, at least?”

You tilt your head with that same knowing smirk, pushing Joel away at his hip with your foot as he leans up from his position against the wall—Joel’s never flirted, always promptly skirted around the issue and went about it more gentlemanly. He’s not abrasive and straightforward like most of the men in Jackson, but damn did he know how to make you feel special.

Undivided attention, constant subtle compliments, giving up some much-needed sleep for a simple late night drink with you—part of you was too terrified to make your own move and make it clear just how badly you wanted just a small taste of him.

You’ve heard whispering, minimal talk from a few of the women in town. Joel didn’t often make his rounds but when he did, he left an impression. And you had every right to be jealous, because with him standing in front of you now—you knew it would be easy to say no and he would fix you right up, finally crossing that line that he’s been carefully dancing around for a few years.

“He’s a bit…timid,” You shrug, “and he doesn’t really…”

The air lingers and the side of Joel’s mouth pulls up—you don’t have to say it.

“Joel, don’t do that,” You shove at his shoulder as he approaches you, his hands pressing into the contraption you’re on, curled around the metal, “—he’s just…eager, but not in a good way.”

There’s a glint in Joel’s eye that leads you to believe he’s not thinking about Benny’s less than experienced sex life, feeling the sudden jitteriness from the coffee as your chest rises with a deep, shaky breath and Joel eyes the time over your shoulder.

Forty-five minutes and some change, plus the time to dry because Joel already knows you aren’t going to trouble yourself with walking the damp laundry through this cold, muggy weather.

“So, no then?” Joel asks.

He could have treated you better, sure. But, he wasn’t the worst.

But, the way Joel is staring at you knows makes everything and everyone dull in comparison.

You shake your head in agreement, chewing at the inside of your bottom lip as your hands fall to your lap, his hands ncreasingly closer to the tights covering your legs, suddenly feeling his thumb graze your hip. You both glance down at the action and your breathing halts, watching as his right hand slowly engulfs your thigh, fingers digging into the soft material and dimpling your skin underneath, his thumb only a few centimeters from dipping into the inside of your thigh.

They part on their own, welcoming Joel in wordlessly and his left hand echoes the other. His face is level with your own, staring down at your lips briefly before meeting your eyes and you’ve seen that look before—the adoration when he thought you weren’t watching, secretly you had become good at catching those glances, but Joel wasn’t trying to hide it now.

And it quickly dawns on you in the moment—he was jealous. Of Benny. Or really, any man that had come before him. But, he was using him as the scapegoat.

Honestly, you couldn’t even care.

“You want someone to treat you right?” He speaks softly and if you weren’t so close you wouldn’t have heard him, “I got you, sweetheart. I swear.”

He’s not looking at you anymore, eyes dragging down the bridge of your nose to your lips again. But, you are looking at him, flooded with that tricky feeling that creeps up on you when you want things you know you shouldn’t.

“Joel, I told you—I don’t do serious,” And you hold your breath for the response, wondering if that would send this moment crumbling to dust, but Joel doesn’t miss a step.

“Good for you,” Joel dotes, “neither do I.”

Then he’s on you, the press of his lips in a heated kiss sends you tumbling back, caught by the warm slide of his palm over your back to pull you in, throwing your arms over his shoulders as he pulls back briefly, just enough for you to open your mouth to speak, but his tongue finds its way inside and the words fade away.

Just friendly, my ass—you think.

If you had known he kissed like this—you would’ve jumped at the opportunity months ago; a night spent drinking too many glasses of wine and laughing over some movie far before your time, but not his.

He was so entranced, giving you all the details, but you couldn’t help giggling over it, too touchy to be considered friendly.

You’d both cut it short quickly when Ellie popped in halfway through the movie, and beyond that, it never grew.

Until now.

“Sweet,” Joel notes with a subtle smile, his hand dwarfing the size of your neck as his fingers wrapped around the column of your throat, holding you firmly in place as he maneuvered you toward and away from the kiss as he pleased, swallowing every tiny moan that escaped your lips when his other hand squeezed at your thigh just a little too hard.

“All that sugar,” In your coffee, the taste lingering on your lips and he licks around them teasingly, pulling away briefly to look at you, your eyebrows raising in question as the gears turn in his head, “—you still with me?”

“I’m just wonderin’ if you’re okay with this,” Joel speaks candidly, his eyes trained on his thumb as it rubs against the middle of your throat, traveling up under your chin and tipping your head up slightly, watching as you swallowed, “before I take this further, jus’ need to know.”

You nod jerkily, not even a second of hesitation.

“You would have known the moment you kissed me, Joel.”

In turn, Joel nods slowly before he speaks, stealing the air from your chest.

“Alright then, pull these down for me,” He tugs gently at the material clinging to your thighs before both of his hands find the spot behind your knees and tug until your feet hit the floor, “and push that pretty little ass out for me.”

The absurdity of this language on his tongue makes you giggle but abide in an instant, struggling slightly as the material bunches at your ankles and Joel helps you the rest of the way, tossing your pants aside before he’s kneeling despite how his body protests, too eager to give you a taste of the pleasure you deserve and he’s grabbing the cheeks of your ass and squeezing them between his hands before he’s leaning up to bite playful at the soft flesh.

He groans quietly against your skin, the press of his aquiline nose against your ass as his fingers fold around the string of your underwear and pull, dropping them down to your ankles and off and then his tongue is flat against the seam of your cunt, gasping as you fall forward and your own fingers clawing against nothing.

“Joel!” You squeak out as his fingers dig hard into your ass, forcing you up on your tiptoes as devours, licking into your cunt as it quivers around his tongue.

Your hand pressed against the wall in front of you to keep your chest from hitting the washer, feeling your pussy tighten around the finger that enters alongside his expert tongue, a soft groan erupting out of him from behind you. That smug motherfucker was attempting a teasing huh under his breath as he busied himself with the task of eating you out from the back and you couldn’t even think straight.

‘C’mon, baby,” He coos between his alternating licks and slurps of the heady slick that dripped from your cunt, “come all over my mouth, let me taste that sugar.”

It’s absurd, the way he’s speaking to you now. Your eyes squeeze shut as his thumb finds your clit amongst the chaos of his tongue and fingers, face heating up at how noisy your cunt sounded over the dull shake of the washer and Joel’s satisfied moans, occasionally massaging at the back of your thigh when your legs shake with the creeping feeling of your impending orgasm.

“Oh,” You squeal, reaching behind you to dig your fingers into his hair, panting out in desperation, “—fuck, don’t stop! Joel, right—right there,” and then glance you take back at him, his eyes peeking open from his position below, on his knees and dutiful to you and you alone, well…

It sends you tumbling over the edge as his thumb rubs over your clit quickly, soothing you through the aftermath as he laps up the mess you’ve made all over yourself, dragging his tongue along the inside of your thigh because if you knew anything about Joel, he didn’t waste a meal.

And you were just about the finest he’s tasted.

You clear your throat as you rest your feet flat on the floor, feeling the faint quake in your legs as Joel rises slowly, forcing you to swallow down a giggle as he winces and he can see it on your face.

“Worth it,” He excuses himself, “don’t look at me like that.”

“No old man jokes?” You sound sad and Joel can’t believe it.

He shakes his head.

But, the smile that breaks out on your face quickly diminishes any comeback he has.

You begin to push him away with a hand gripped in his shirt, carefully avoiding the obvious bulge in his sweats as you reach for your tights, ready to redress and drop to your own knees as a favor but his fingers are wrapping around your wrist, pulling your attention back to him.

“I meant it,” Joel tells you, tilting his head to catch your gaze.

You smile wide and tilt your head to mirror him, “I think you proved your point—Benny is a pathetic man who doesn’t know how to make me come, blah blah…”

“My job ain’t done if you’re still thinkin’ about him, darlin’.”

His eyebrows raise in challenge.

Okay, you’re game.

Wordlessly you allow the hands at your hip that guide you toward the front of the joined appliances, his fingers sliding under your top until you get the hint to pull it off, your breasts bouncing free from the shirt—the few bras you had were already in the wash, big deal.

Joel chuckles and stops for a moment, admiring the sight of your breasts for the second time that month, albeit more openly this time. He reaches forward and rubs his thumb along your nipple, watching the nub harden under his touch and you bite at your bottom lip, eye fluttering closed at how sensitive they were to touch, something other men never took the time to notice.

“You like that?” Joel asks with a creeping grin.

You nod, watching as he squeezed your tits in his hands, showing your nipples ample attention as he circled them with his thumb before leaning down slightly and swiping his tongue over the hardened nubs, sucking your breast into his mouth and his eyes peer up, gauging your reaction which quickly developed from a soft giggle to a loud moan.

“Clothes,” You breath out, “off—if you still have a point to prove.”

A point that you wanted proven. Hard.

Joel pulls away and yanks his shirt over his head, allowing you an unobscured view of the mix of muscled shoulders and his softened stomach, running your hand over the patch of hair at the center of his chest and down, right along his hips until his own fingers hook around the fabric and pull his sweats and boxers down in one motion, his cock catching against the edge of his waistband before it bobs back up toward his stomach.

You find yourself smiling despite yourself, forgetting for a moment that Joel was standing there and watching you, feeling your mouth water at the sight of him hard and leaking at how just getting a small taste of you had turned him on that much, precum leaking slowly from the tip and he wraps his hand around himself, other hand tapping at your chin to drag your attention back up to his face, reminding you he was still there.

“Got somethin’ on your mind, sweetheart?”

You shake your head furiously, “No, no—no, nothing. Just, uh—”

“I’ll start slow,” He tells you and with the size of him, thick and girthy in ways you’ve only imagined or pictured in your head, it’s daunting, “are you still alright with all of this?”

Your face softens and you nod, appreciating the repeated check-ins, the need for confirmation, but it pulls at your heart as you wonder why he feels the need to ask so much. As if he was fearful you would change your mind on a dime—Joel was fine with that, but he was more worried about the change in dynamic. Thankfully, you were determined for that not to be the case.

“I’m pretty tough,” You shrug, a playful smile gracing your face.

Joel nods absently as his fingers drag along your waist before catching behind your knee and pulling it up over his hip, both of your eyes dragging down to his cock as he tugged at himself a few times, his brow furrowed as he spread your lips apart with the head, dipping his hips down slightly to catch against your hole before he pushes in slow, one solid stroke that steals the sound from your throat and transfers to his own. Joel groans out softly as he pushes into you, his hands gravitating toward your face and wrapping around the sides of your neck, tilting your head back to mouth at your skin, his tongue dragging along your collarbone before sucking and nipping gently at your skin.

“Don’t I know it,” Joel responds after a while, “find something to hold onto.”

Your soft giggle of excitement shoots down to your core and your fingers wrap around the edges of the washer and Joel pulls back swiftly before he’s snapping his hips back into you before repeating the process several times, the jolt of the machine hitting the concrete wall behind you drowned out by your loud moans, quickly swallowed up by Joel’s lips as he pulls your mouth to his, breathing into it with every sharp snap of his hips.

“Harder,” You beg, biting at his bottom lip as he groans, using his fingers intertwined into the hair at the nape of your neck now to pull your head back and he pulls his hips back quick, bottoming himself out inside of you so forcefully you feel like your legs might give out, his cock rubbing against your already too sensitive g-spot and continuously finding a way to bring you closer and closer to the edge, “fuck—yes, yes. Joel, oh my god—”

“Yeah,” Joel goads you, his eyes drawn closed as he tries to keep his own orgasm at bay, “give it to me, baby—wanna watch you make a mess on my cock, alright?”

Easy, you laugh airily and feel the instinctive squeeze of your walls around Joel’s cock as he pulls your face to his, foreheads pressed against each other as he angles his hips back and slams into you one last time before you come undone, head falling back in a similar position to how he caught you a few weeks ago, this time for him.

Your grab for his shoulders suddenly, blunt fingernails digging into his skin and he takes a few harsh breaths through his nose before he’s pulling out, hand grasping his cock as he jerked himself a few seconds before he comes in thick, short spurts against your stomach, squeezing at the head of his cock as he drags it through the mess he’s made.

His expression is nothing short of mesmerizing, mouth hung open just enough that his tongue can drag over his bottom lip before his teeth are taking its place, eyes drawn to your skin.

Wordlessly, he pulls away on his own pair of shaky legs as he reaches for his wrinkled, worn shirt and brings it to your stomach, cleaning up the mess with a faint smile on his face.

“You know, I think it might take me a bit to fix my washer,” You tease, “so—I might be over here bothering you for a while.”

Joel peers up at you, his head still tucked down as he wiped at your stomach.

“Fine with me.”

Then he’s peering over your shoulder, watching as the washer time inched toward zero, dinging behind you. You turn around, letting your leg fall from his hip finally, ass brush against him in the process and Joel can’t help the way his eyes refuse to leave the sight of it.

Only feeling slightly guilty when you catch him this time, not giving him the pass you usually do.

“We’ve still got about an hour left if I dry them here,” You tell him, “anything else you wanna prove?”

Joel’s tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek, eyes dragging up toward the upper level of his house before flicking back toward you, a smile plastered on your face.

“I can think of a few things.”

divider creds: @/cafekitsune

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x f!reader #my writing

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nottsangel · 4 months

Text

just friends — p.z. & a.d.

pairing: fwb!patrick zweig x fem!stanford!reader x bsf!stanford!art donaldson

warnings: smut 18+, threesome, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex (m. and f. receiving), creampie, praise, dirty talk, everyone is really into each other

word count: 4.5k

summary: you and patrick have been secretly hooking up behind art’s back for months without him suspecting a thing. however, everything changes when art unexpectedly walks in on you both.

nav. // m.list // taglist

“Fuck!” you cursed when your trembling, non-dominant hand holding the nail polish applicator accidentally painted your skin bright red with a rogue flick. Hastily shoving the applier back into the glass bottle, you reached for a tissue, carelessly splashed some nail polish remover on it, and tried to fix the mess as best as you could. You squinted your eyes as you dabbed the remover-soaked tissue on your skin, the sun gradually setting and the chilly evening summer breeze feeling pleasant against your skin in your humid Stanford dorm room.

“That’s… better.” you mumbled to yourself as you held your hands in front of you, admiring your freshly painted nails with a satisfied grin, when three loud knocks on your dorm room door resonated through the room, making you jump and let out a small squeal in surprise, jolting you out of your trance.

Hastily, you tucked away your nail polish supplies before another set of impatient knocks echoed through the space. “Coming!” you yelled out, leaping towards the door with a rush of excitement coursing through your body, knowing exactly who was waiting on the other side.

You carefully grasped the handle, ensuring not to ruin your fresh nail polish, and pulled the door open with a beaming smile. In front of the door opening, your best friend stood with his hands in his pockets and a broad grin that widened when he saw your excited expression.

“Patrick!” you exclaimed, holding your arms out as he swiftly wrapped you in a hug, lifted you from the ground, and spun you around while casually closing the door with his foot. “Careful, careful! I just painted my nails!” you grumbled, quickly checking your nails with a concerned frown before he set you back down on the ground.

“You were getting all dolled up f’me? You didn’t have to, you know.” You rolled your eyes, his cocky attitude already surfacing after approximately ten seconds. “Oh, shut up. And uhm, If you didn’t know already, I’m actually seeing someone. Stanford has some pretty cute guys, surprisingly.”

Patrick narrowed his eyes, closely observing your face with a serious expression before a wide grin broke out. He chuckled while shaking his head, his eyes briefly drifting away from yours before he firmly gripped your jaw, “You’re fucking lying.” A small smile tugged at your lips, unable to maintain your poker face any longer. Having been best friends for so long, it was easy for both of you to spot a lie.

“I mean, obviously you’re not seeing anyone. C’mon baby, we both know no one can fuck you as good as I can.” he taunted, his voice low and raspy, before he stepping closer to you until you’re merely inches away from each other, the smirk on his face gradually fading.

His eyes looked right into yours, then shifted to your lips as he licked his own before abruptly cupping your face with both hands and pressing his lips to yours hungrily. His mouth was warm against yours, a mingling of passion and urgency as teeth clashed briefly and tongues fought for dominance while you could taste the faint hint of cigarettes mixed with minty gum.

You were well aware of the risks that came with being friends with benefits, but god, it was so fucking addictive. Patrick had a way of making you feel like none of your ex-boyfriends ever had, which kept you coming back for more.

And since the two of you first hooked up at a party, both intoxicated and horny, a few months have passed of you continuing as friends with benefits without any issues yet. You both agreed right away to keep it a secret from your other best friend, Art, fearing it might complicate things between you three or potentially ruin your close friendship. And so far, it worked out just fine, and everything between you three remained as normal as ever.

“Have you seen Art already?” You questioned as you broke the kiss, making him whine as his rough hands wandered all over your body, reaching your waist.

“Hmm, what? Art? No, no, not yet. I— uh, I have more important things on my mind first.” He snickered, his signature smirk spreading across his face, before swiftly pushing you onto your bed, causing you to bounce lightly on the mattress as you gazed up at him through your eyelashes, taking in his athletic shape. You noticed he had grown more muscular since the last time you saw him, nearly making you drool at the sight of his biceps flexing as he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside, revealing his defined abs.

He then fumbled with the buttons of his trousers, his impatient and hurried manners only slowing him down instead, making him groan in frustration before finally yanking his trousers off and kicking them to the side. Your eyes were instantly drawn to his tented boxers, with precum forming a wet patch on the fabric as he approached you on the bed, causing you to unconsciously spread your legs open.

“Fuck, I haven’t gone a day without thinking about you, you know that? Your sweet mouth, your perfect tits, your pretty pussy. You have no idea how much I’ve looked forward to this moment.” he whispered with a raspy voice, your floral perfume filling his senses as he removed your top, the soft material gliding over your head, and then did the same to your shorts, his movements clumsy and uncoordinated, before tossing them to the ground, leaving a pile of scattered clothes on the floor of your dorm room.

“So… what? you’re telling me that you haven’t fucked any girls on tour? At all?” You asked sceptically with a raised eyebrow as he knelt before you on the bed, his lips slightly parted with a sly smile on his face as he admired your stunning body, a red lace lingerie set perfectly hugging your figure, his eyes scanning every inch of you. “Shit. You’re so fucking hot.” he chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief that someone as hot as you would want to have sex with him.

“Baby, trust me when I say the only thing I’ve fucked these past few weeks was my own hand while thinking about you.” he assured you as his head lowered to your neck, but you caught him off guard when you swiftly pushed him off, causing him to land on his back beside you before straddling his lap, grinning down at him. He groaned at your sudden dominance, a smug smile playing on his lips as his wandering hand moved to your ass, roughly squeezing it as he gazed up at you.

“Hmm, really? While thinking about me, huh? That’s cute.” You whispered while grinding your hips right on top of his boner, the sensation of your swollen clit rubbing against him making you grow wetter with each passing second, desperately needing to feel him inside of you after weeks of not seeing him.

“Oh c’mon, baby. Don’t act like you haven’t been doing the same. I know for a fact you’ve been using that pink toy of yours while moaning my name every time you came.” He taunted, then proceeded to imitate you mockingly by moaning his own name in a high-pitched tone. Dickhead. He knew you too well.

“Oh, fuck you, Patrick.” You playfully slapped him on the chest with a sheepish smile on your face, neither denying nor confirming anything as he cockily stared up at you with half-lidded eyes. “Only if you ask nicely, sweetheart.”

The smirk on his face quickly faded as you unexpectedly quickened your movements and lowered your head towards his neck, planting sloppy kisses along his jawline before nibbling on his earlobe, causing him to groan and buck his hips up in desperation.

You teasingly moved your mouth towards his, ghosting your lips against his and making him reach for you desperately, causing you to smirk. He bit his lip, staring at you with hunger in his eyes, until you finally gave in and kissed him eagerly, your eyes fluttering shut as your lips met his. Smacking noises along with soft moans filled the room, fully immersed in the moment, unable to think about anything else but his roaming hands roughly exploring your half-naked body as you lustfully made out.

Suddenly, the door burst open, jolting you both out of your trance as you quickly broke the kiss, a string of saliva still linking your lips.

Your heart leapt in your throat as you saw your best friend, Art, standing frozen in the doorway, his jaw dropping and his face turning red with one hand still tightly clutching the door handle. A hot wave of embarrassment crashed over him, and none of you dared to move— Patrick stared at Art with wide eyes, while Art's blue eyes darted between the two of you.

Both Patrick and Art remained frozen, too embarrassed and shocked to move. But you— you stayed put for a different reason. You were intrigued by how this scene would unfold, silently waiting for one of them to speak, a spark of mischief dancing in your eyes.

“Oh my god. Sorry, I— uh, I didn’t know you guys— I didn’t know you guys were, uhm, together.” Art stammered, finally breaking the silence as he awkwardly scratched the back of his head, his wide eyes unsure where to look and his lips tightly pressed together into a thin line.

“No, no, we aren’t, I promise! This is just— It’s like— we’re—” Patrick stammered, trying his best to come up with an excuse but failing miserably, so you quickly cut him off, “We aren’t together.” You remarked with a casual indifference, sitting up straight on Patrick’s lap now with your hands resting on his bare chest for support. Art finally mustered the courage to meet your gaze, one eyebrow raised in confusion and his lips parted as if to speak, but he was too dumbfounded to find the words.

“We’re just… you know, friends who… occasionally have sex.” You shifted your gaze back to Patrick, who snapped out of his frozen state and inhaled a deep breath, his cheeks flushing bright red, clearly unsure how to react. “I wanna die right now.” Patrick muttered through clenched teeth, his voice barely audible as he slowly dragged his hands over his red face in embarrassment.

You returned your attention to Art again who hadn’t moved an inch, still awkwardly standing there. A cunning smile tugged at your lips as you took in the scene. “So are you just going to watch like a fucking creep or are you actually going to join us?”

“What!?” Art, blurted out, eyes wide with disbelief as he swallowed hard, the sound of the gulp almost audible in the stunned silence. “You should, uh… come here and join us— As friends, of course.”

From your peripheral vision, you noticed Patrick's face gradually light up as soon as you suggested Art to join you, his excitement clearly visible. It was obvious, really— Patrick had always been attracted to Art. You could see it in the way he teased him, the smile that appeared whenever Art entered the room, and the subtle touches here and there. So, just before Patrick arrived, you had texted Art, asking him to meet you both in your room in ten minutes. But Patrick didn’t need to know that. To him, this all was simply a perfect accident.

“Uhm… I, uh— yeah, okay. I mean, sure.” Art let out an awkward chuckle and nodded slightly, the tension he was feeling gradually washing away and his stance slowly relaxing, though he still hadn't fully processed what he'd just walked in on, but he was more than eager to join.

He closed the door behind him and made his way towards you both, his eyes unintentionally darting between your half-naked body and Patrick’s tented boxers, before sitting on the edge of the bed as you rose from Patrick’s lap.

“I can’t believe you guys left me out of this.” He joked, but there was a hint of seriousness in his tone, which made you gaze at him with a sympathetic expression as you straddled his lap, hands resting on his toned shoulders.

“We’re sorry, really. It wasn’t… intentional. But I promise we’ll take good care of you now, okay?” you whispered softly, your sharp nails grazing over the skin of his neck before moving to the hem of his shirt. In one swift motion, you pulled it over his head and tossed it aside.

“Well, you better. I mean, you both have a lot to apologise for here, just saying.” Art teased, a challenging tone in his voice now as you could feel his erection growing bigger right beneath your dripping core. Patrick now sat beside Art, wasting no time as he attached his lips to Art’s neck and planted wet kisses while whispering softly against his skin, “We didn’t mean to. It just— it just happened, you know? But uhm… we’ll make it up to you.”

Art could only moan in response, strangled noises escaping his mouth as you began to slowly move your hips back and forth right on his painfully hard boner. His roaming hands explored your body with caution and eagerness, while his blue eyes stared down at your barely covered figure with his mouth slightly agape, giving him a perfect view of your cleavage. “Oh my fucking god.”

You then firmly gripped his jaw as your mouth slowly drew closer to his, causing him to shift his gaze back up, half-lidded eyes staring at you before your soft lips met his. Your bodies pressed together as his mouth moved against yours with an unrestrained passion while Patrick sloppily placed love bites all over Art’s neck and collarbones, whispering soft apologies against his skin.

Art felt as if he were in heaven as he sat on the edge of the bed, a warm glow spreading through him. The soft smacking noises of your and Patrick’s lips seemed to blend perfectly with his racing heart as his cheeks heated up, savouring every second of the moment.

You then grasped Patrick’s jaw, pulling his head toward yours and Art’s, inviting him into the kiss. Soon all three of you were entangled in the kiss, tongues moving against each other, fueled by the pent-up sexual energy between the three of you that finally seemed to burst. The world around you faded as Patrick’s lips pressed against yours with a hunger that was soon matched by Art’s, both of them eagerly moving their tongues against each other’s and yours while yearning for more.

Art's hand glided over your bare back, pausing at the clasp of your bra. He skillfully unclasped it with one hand, slipping it off your shoulders and throwing it aside, your bra quickly replaced by his firm hand. You softly moaned into their mouths at the feeling of Art kneading your breasts, causing him to slyly smirk into the kiss, meanwhile Patrick's hand travelled to between your thighs, trailing over your clothed cunt and feeling your wetness through the fabric.

You gently pulled away from the kiss, your mouth parting from theirs as quick breaths left your swollen lips. Gazing at your two best friends kissing before you, you carefully lifted yourself from Art’s lap.

Both of them were lost in their own world, lips still attached to each other as they hungrily kissed each other, the passion in their kiss so intense and urgent that they didn’t even notice you breaking the kiss. A mischievous smirk spread across your face as you slowly dropped down to your knees in front of them. Your eyes remained locked on the boys as sighs and moans echoed throughout the room, the hunger and longing for one another overtaking them both.

Your hands eagerly grasped at Art’s pants as you fumbled with the buttons, causing him to break the kiss and snap his head towards you, finally jolting him out of the trance and, for the first time, realising that you had pulled away from the kiss. “Why are you stopping? Go on, continue.” You ordered, Art’s hips instinctively bucking up so you could pull his pants down. Patrick was the first to resume the kiss, his hand gliding against Art’s jaw as he guided him back towards him, their lips meeting once again.

Both of them were now sitting in only their boxers, their erections clearly visible as they were making out heavily. A sense of power surged through you as you attentively gazed up at them and palmed them through their boxers at the same time, noticing their bodies instantly tensing up at your touch as they moaned into each other’s mouths. After a short while, you freed them both from their last piece of clothing, their erections jumping free against their abs with precum leaking from the top.

“Gonna make my boys feel so fucking good.” You murmured as you wrapped your hands around both of them and simultaneously pumped their cocks at a slow pace while licking your lips, nearly drooling at the sight in front of you.

You drew your head closer to Patrick’s cock first, starting by gently licking the tip and feeling him melt under your touch before you wrapped your lips around him, hollowing your cheeks. He let out a loud moan in Art’s mouth and gripped the sheets when feeling your head bob up and down on his erection. You made sure to flick your tongue over the pink tip at the same time, knowing exactly what drove Patrick crazy.

Then, you withdrew from Patrick and moved to Art who was eagerly waiting to feel your warm mouth around him after seeing how Patrick reacted to your touch. Your tongue moved along the length of his shaft before reaching the tip, swirling your tongue over the most sensitive part. A string of curse words flowed softly from his mouth as your lips wrapped around his cock and pushed yourself down on him until you felt him touch the back of your throat, all while your other hand stroked Patrick’s cock at a fast pace.

Groans and shattered breaths escaped both their lips as you alternated between sloppily sucking them both off, saliva running down your chin while using your hand on the one that wasn't in your mouth at the time, bringing them closer and closer to their release.

The kiss between them grew more heated and sloppy with each passing second, and they were both desperate to let go, but you abruptly stopped right before they could. Both of their heads snapped in your direction with disappointed expressions on their flushed faces, panting heavily as you gazed up at them with a sly smile.

“Not yet. I want you to cum inside of me. Both of you.” you murmured as you gazed up at them through your eyelashes with your lips slick and swollen. The sight of you kneeling in front of them, spit tracing down your chin and making a mess all over your tits as you stared up at them with large, doe-like eyes could make them cum on the spot. A soft oh my god slipped from Art’s lips as he fixed his gaze on you with a mesmerised grin, causing Patrick’s eyes to shift from you to Art, a knowing smile forming on his lips, chuckling as he noticed his enchanted expression.

“Art looks like he’s already about to cum, baby. Help the poor guy out.” Patrick chuckled, causing Art to snap out of his trance and lightly push Patrick to the side, his cheeks heating up because it was true— he was so fucking close already.

You rose to your feet, slipped your soaked underwear down and stepped out of them, before gently pushing Art onto the bed, making him lie flat on his back. Patrick moved behind you, his eyes fixed on your figure as you hovered over Art’s lap, your hands pressing against his chest and your wetness dripping onto him.

“You want me to fuck you, Art? ‘Cause I don’t know, I’m just… not fully convinced yet.” You taunted, his mouth slightly agape in mesmerisation as he stared up at you. “You’re such a fucking tease, you know that?“ You raised an eyebrow at him with a naughty grin dancing on your lips, waiting for him to say the words you so badly wanted to hear. “Fuck baby, you have no idea how bad I need you. I want you to fuck me, please.”

With a satisfied smile, you lined his cock up to your entrance and slowly sank down, feeling him gradually fill you up and stretch you out completely, causing you to hiss with pleasure. Art threw his head back at the sensation, and his hands instinctively moved to your hips, gripping them firmly to prevent himself from cumming straight away. “Is this okay?” You asked, slowly rolling your hips on top of him and resting your hands on his chest for support. “Yeah, that’s— fuck, that’s amazing. Please— keep going, baby.”

“Yeah, she feels good, huh?” Patrick chuckled, a smug grin spreading across his face as he reached around to massage your tits from behind, teasing your sensitive nipples while you leaned against his shoulder. Your hand found its way to his cock and began to stroke him slowly, causing him to moan into your neck and leave a trail of kisses.

“So fucking good, oh my god. I can’t believe you’ve kept her to yourself all this time, man.” Art replied, before letting out a hitched breath as you slowly began to rhythmically move up and down on him. The curve of Art’s cock allowed him to rub against your g-spot so perfectly, it caused your eyes to roll to the back of your head and let out a loud moan, one hand resting on his chest and the other one pumping Patrick’s erection at a fast pace.

You murmured a soft come here to Patrick, beckoning him to move closer to Art. You let go of Patrick and took Art’s hand, guiding it towards Patrick’s cock before wrapping his hand around it firmly.

“Make him feel good.” you murmured, and Art quickly obliged as he began to move his hand up and down on Patrick’s cock, allowing you to focus on the movements of your hips. Your fingers gently trailed over Art’s abs all the way to his lips, before sticking them in his mouth and forcing him to suck on your digits. Art’s eyes fluttered shut at the sensation of your cunt squeezing him so tightly, meanwhile, Patrick’s stared at him through half-lidded eyes and his mouth agape, making it even more obvious to you that he has been waiting for this moment for a long fucking time.

Sensual moans and grunts from all three of you filled the room as you moved your hips at a fast pace, and you’re so certain other people in the building could hear you, but at this moment, you couldn’t care less.

Patrick’s hand moved down to where your and Art’s bodies connected and began massaging his balls, only adding to the intense pleasure Art was already feeling, causing him to grip the sheets.

“I’m not— I’m not gonna last long.” Art cried out, biting his lip as he was nearing his release. “Let go, baby. Wanna feel you cum inside of me.” You could feel his cock twitch at your words before he let out a choked sob and painted your walls white, cumming as deep into you as possible. “Good boy.” you whispered as you cupped his flushed face with your hands and kissed him, giving him time to recover from his orgasm as he whispered against your lips, “So fucking good, oh my god.”

You then slowly lifted yourself off his cock, a mixture of your juices and his sperm dripping down your thighs, but Patrick quickly moved behind you as soon as he noticed, grabbing your hips and hungrily sucking on your neck. “Let me help you finish, pretty girl. You want that? Hmm?”

A soft please was all you could get out before he positioned himself behind you and pushed in with one quick thrust, too impatient to take it slow since he was already so fucking close to his release. When he was balls deep inside of you, he wrapped his bicep around your neck and pulled you up, your back resting against his sweat-soaked chest.

“Get— fuck, get under her, Art.” Art instantly understood as he moved his head directly under your body and wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking it eagerly while Patrick began to move inside of you. He quickly set a steady but rough pace, causing you to arch your back as he massaged your inner walls so perfectly, strangled noises escaping your lips. “Oh— oh my fucking god.”

It was so fucking messy— Patrick pounding into you while Art’s cum was still deep inside of you, causing a mixture of both Art’s cum and your juices to drip down onto Art, who was ferally sucking on your swollen clit, making you moan both their names loudly over and over again.

Patrick’s focused gaze was fixed on his cock disappearing into your body, and it felt like a dream come true to fuck his best friend with his other best friend’s cum dripping out of you at the same time— it used to be merely a fantasy that he would think about while stroking himself late at night all alone in his room.

He groaned as his hand reeled back before slapping your ass, causing you to clench around his cock as you moaned loudly. “Oh fuck, feels— feels so fucking good.”

Your eyes fluttered shut when he continued rubbing against that one spot inside you that made your toes curl, the pleasure building as you could feel his cock twitching inside you.

“Ah, fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m— I’m gonna cum” you cried out, brows knit together as you felt your release approaching. “Fuck, cum for us, baby.” Art moaned into your cunt, his tongue moving faster against your sensitive clit.

Another forceful thrust and your orgasm struck you, causing you to see stars as your vision blurred, your nails digging deep into Patrick’s arm. His hips began to stagger, losing rhythm, and you knew he was close too before you felt a pool of warmth inside of you as he filled you to the brim with his cum. A string of curse words left his lips as his grip around your body tightened when he felt your body go limp, trying his best to hold you up while slowly moving his hips and riding out his high.

Art lay back down on the bed again, sensing that you were about to collapse, and you soon did, falling right on top of his body, and giving Patrick a perfect view of your cum-dripping cunt.

“Oh well that was..” Art began, as Patrick chimed in, “Yup.” “And that.” “I know.” “And THAT.” “Yeahhh.” “Just, don’t you guys fucking dare leave me out of this next time!” Art demanded, his tone firm with his chest still heaving up and down. “Got it, no more secrets from now on. Right, Patrick?” you reassured Art, then glanced back at Patrick. “Yeah, I mean… both our cum is literally, like, dripping out of you, baby. I don’t think we can ever go back to normal after this.”

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