#time really is a flat circle huh

[soapsinthebox]

Help i just remembered mins VA is the same person who sung the "you chihiro'ed in the wrong neighborhood" meme im not sane about this-

[mantisgodsdomain]

BREAKING NEWS: area wizard previously only tangentially aware with podcast's second campaign via its first two arcs and the falling-off of its viewership finally actually gets around to listening past Arc 2 and realizes abruptly that OH SHIT the wizard liked this podcast because it's Really Fucking Good

[whorascope]

I feel like I was summoned from an ancient sarcophagus just to make this indie sleaze ass mood board. 2010 Bridget would be living for it.

[reinabeestudio]

I didn't realize how fitting it is to reveal that I've been into pokepastas since I was a kid on the Halloween month

[glitch-e-stardust]

I am a simple creature

I log in. I flood your dash with isat. I leave.

Wash, rinse, repeat.

[gutsby]

Trigger Tease(r)

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Before his morning briefing, your mob boss husband decides to take a pit stop in the sauna with you.

Warnings: 18+. Oral (f!receiving). Gentle fingerfucking. Praise and degradation. Daddy kink. Dirty talk. Bucky talking you through it. Bimbofication if you squint.

Notes: @sluttylittlewaistenthusiast - you inspired me 🪽 I just had to crank out a little teaser for the third installment of Wedded Bliss. I hope y’all like it 💓

Full version here

In between breakfast and the start of your husband’s early briefing, you found yourself situated in much the same way you’d been spending a lot of time these days: pinned up against the wall of a wood-paneled sauna, Bucky’s broad shoulders supporting both of your legs as he buried his face deep between your thighs. You sighed.

“Hold still,” Bucky grunted, voice muffled as he tried to keep your slick, squirming body in place above him.

You yelped and seized a fistful of his hair when he wedged his tongue even further inside you, nudging your clit with his nose almost too teasingly and deliberate.

“I can’t…help it,” you bit back, ignoring the brief glare you earned from your husband as soon as you said it, “Your tongue’s just so— s— James!”

This time, Bucky let out a full-throated groan when you yanked on those poor wet locks of his—‘Gonna make me bald by next Christmas if you keep doin’ that, honey’—and he pried his head from your legs just long enough to knock you flat on the sauna bench close by.

The western red cedar seared hot on your skin, already flushed from the exhaustion wrought by Bucky’s tongue; you hardly had the strength to hold yourself up when he pushed you onto your back and crawled over your body.

“How ‘bout my fingers, doll? Can you take a couple’a those for me?” Bucky crooned above you as he stroked your hair, bathed in pure sunlight pouring in from the windows. His voice was a touch more sympathetic now.

After all, this was your third orgasm of the morning. It really wasn’t fair for him to use that biological weapon of mass destruction he liked to call his tongue when he knew how sensitive your clit would get from just one ‘O’. Even his hands might be too much in your current state.

Bucky was busy peppering your skin with kisses, working his way from the base of your neck to the crown of your head, when you whimpered and tried to fight a smile.

“Finger,” you corrected him, “Just one finger, Barnes.”

You would’ve thought you’d just thrown your wedding ring in his face and told him to eat shit. Just one?

“How’s one finger s’posed to stretch you out for my cock, huh? Practically had you screamin’ when I stuck it in last night,” Bucky wasn’t one to hide his amusement, grinning even bigger when you swatted him on the arm.

“Who said anything about your cock?” You tried to keep cool as Bucky’s fingers trailed right back down to the place you felt yourself throbbing, aching for his touch, “You have a meeting in ten minutes.”

“Meeting doesn’t start until I say so, my love,” Bucky reminded you just as his index ghosted over your folds.

In truth, he was willing to play this game any way, and for however long, you wanted it done, so long as he was the one bringing you pleasure. Be that his cock, his finger, or all fucking five on one hand, Bucky just wanted to get you off. It was better sustenance to him than the whole damn meal the two of you had eaten that morning.

Bucky kept it down to one digit and lightly circled your bundle of nerves when he sensed you were ready.

You gripped his forearm and shot a quick look between your legs, still in disbelief as to how he could make you feel this good so soon after you’d cum twice before. You felt his lips drift over to yours and steal a few kisses.

“Always doin’ so good for me,” Bucky praised, moving his finger in circles. When you whined against his mouth, he pressed it even harder, “Such a good girl for daddy.”

“James,” you breathed, clenching your legs together.

“Everything OK?”

“Uh-huh.”

More than OK, in fact. That delectable coil of sweet, euphoric release was already swelling gently in your tummy. Bucky moved his finger even faster.

“Tell me how it feels,” he murmured low in your ear.

Bucky loved seeing you try to articulate your feelings—relatively fresh and new to your world, still—while he was giving you pleasure. Adored the way you winced and whined and arched your back into his touch as a whole blustering hailstorm of sensations crashed over you.

He sank his tongue in your mouth as he kissed you, as if trying to extract the words from between your lips. Your response, in consequence, came somewhat stifled.

“Mm— feels so, oh—” Your voice broke off in a moan when Bucky tightened his circles, “—so good, daddy.”

“Wanna show daddy how good and cum for me?”

Bucky knew by the way you were whimpering under his hand that the tendril in your stomach had almost tripled in size. It wouldn’t take much to tip you over the edge.

“My sweet girl,” he said, rubbing your cunt at the same time he was stroking the back of your head, gently, “Feels so nice down there, doesn’t it?”

You rolled your hips against the bench and nodded. Your breaths were short and ragged, panting helplessly into Bucky’s mouth when he adjusted his hand just a little: pressing the pad of his thumb to your clit, with his index moving down to your entrance. Pushing inside you.

“Another,” you choked, not thinking.

Bucky met your desperate gaze and nodded, knowing this was exactly what you needed to make it over the precipice.

Still, he wouldn’t be Bucky if he didn’t tease just a bit.

“I thought my wife wanted one finger,” he hummed, brow pinching inward.

“No, no.” You could’ve shrieked when he curled the digit, “Want more— Bucky, please, please, I need more.”

Again, your husband appeared to nod in understanding, but his fingers didn’t budge. He worked his thumb a little faster and watched you writhe on the seat beneath him.

“How many, honey? Don’t wanna hurt my baby.” His words were all kindness, it seemed, but his tone laced with shameless condescension—the kind that said, yes, I know you need this, and no, I won’t indulge you just yet. Bucky was the worst when he wanted to prove a point. You could’ve ripped at his clothes and torn them in two if you weren’t both stark naked and shrouded in steam.

You opted to pull at his hair instead.

Bucky winced, but the smirk never left.

“I said how many?” he pressed again.

“Three. Four.” Fuck if you knew.

Your husband raised both eyebrows and hummed, a single finger still plunging in and out of your cunt in quick succession. He teased the tip of another at your entrance and smiled even more when you whined.

“Needy little thing, isn’t she?”

“Bucky—”

“Just wants to fuck daddy’s hand to get herself off, hm?”

Bucky didn’t bother to mask his sweet, degrading tone any longer as he talked down and teased you to no end. It drove him half-insane to see you squirm around, rut your hips, let him say the filthiest fucking words he could conjure up, and just bob your head to whatever he said. His impeccant wife and her insatiable needs—Bucky couldn’t even begin to express how turned on the sheer dichotomy got him. He stared in your eyes, all glossy and soft, and felt his cock stand even more rigid on his belly.

He didn’t give a shit if he’d taunted you enough or not; he just shoved his middle and ring fingers alongside the first and clenched his jaw to start fucking you hard with all three.

Your whole face contorted with pleasure, tinged with the faintest shade of discomfort at the tail end of it. You’d forgotten how big his fingers felt all together.

“Bucky,” you whined, mindlessly clawing at the wrist that was moving back and forth, fast, between your legs, “B-Baby, slow— slow down a little.”

But Bucky was deep in the zone. He knew you wanted it too—sensed that you liked to play it safe when it came to your pleasure and grew a little timid at times it got to feel too much—and he needed to talk you through it.

Rather than turn his head and keep to himself as he got you up to your peak, Bucky pressed his face down to yours and nodded again—this time with a tender sincerity.

“Feel a little stretch down there, huh?”

You didn’t have to say anything, just whimpering in time. Bucky kissed your forehead and let you fold into him as his fingers wreaked havoc down below. He kissed you again, and again, and in between kisses, mumbled,

“That’s daddy’s sweet, needy little slut.”

“My perfect fucking wife, so good at taking my fingers.”

“Gonna be nice and stretched out for my cock, hm?”

Every syllable spoken aloud was like a brand new catalyst for your impending release. You barely nodded your head, opened your mouth and whined pathetically, but that’s exactly how Bucky wanted you. Exactly how you needed to be, bucking your hips in time with the cadence of his fingers fucking inside you, and soon, those whimpers were turning to moans as that soft little helix inside you reached its breaking point.

Bucky brushed once or twice more against your sensitive spot, and suddenly you were coming undone all over him—crying his name, clawing his skin, squeezing your legs so tight around his wrist you feared you might snap it in two, and then getting kissed again, over and over while Bucky drank in your every sound, and the few tears that sprung to your eyes as they always did, like sweet nectar.

You were still moaning, curling your tongue feebly against his own and leaning into him as far as you could, when your husband slipped three fingers up between your mouths and pushed them past your parted lips.

“Suck,” Bucky said, gritting his teeth as he watched you, “C’mere, honey, taste your cunt on my fingers.”

You took him in and sucked your arousal off his fingers just like he asked. Took him by surprise and dragged a mindless, lazy, half-crazed and careless tongue all over his hand, where your juices had no doubt collected too.

That slutty, fucked-out look you gave him—like your brain had all but fallen out of your head with the orgasm he’d given you—was everything Bucky could’ve wanted.

He climbed on top of you and took the base of his cock, rock-hard and weeping tears of precum from the tip, almost drunk from the feeling himself. His mouth hung open as he dragged himself over the seam of your cunt.

“I need to fuck you.”

Taglist (STILL HAVE TO UPDATE THIS I'M DUMB AS SHIT): @vicmc624, @she-could-never, @mcira, @kentokaze, @identity2212, @unaxv, @buchi91, @ordelixx, @stinkerbelle007, @opibarnes, @wilsons-striped-ties, @desigirlxx, @pono-pura-vida, @geminiflanagansblog, @fandomsfeminismandme, @buggy14, @sky-full-0f-fl0wers, @buckysdoll1520, @armystay89, @minimarvelingmarvel, @kunakizen, @ghostiebby06, @blackhawkfanatic, @dameron-grant-spector, @sushiseoks, @deansapplepie, @mrsjoequinn, @lunaroserites, @first-edition, @kaybaby2494, @jaggedsi, @excusememrbarnes, @daisychainsoflove, @mostlymarvelgirl, @diannana, @shawnberry, @yujyujj, @urmomsalex, @mrs-bucky-barnes-73, @athenabarnes, @christinabae, @wintrsoldrluvr, @bethbunnyy, @i-heart-smut @dixsond

[geeky-politics-46]

Kinktober 2023 - Day 7

Sex Toys with Bucky Barnes

"The Gift"

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

Summary: You give Bucky a gift he never knew he wanted.

Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - masturbation, sex toys, homemade porn, dirty talk, pet names, langcorn, reference to oral & vaginal sex, Bucky being a needy boy.

Bucky paced back and forth, trying to avoid staring at the box on the bed. His fingers pulling on his hair and biting at his bottom lip, trying to find a way to direct his attention anywhere else, but his mind kept pulling him back. The ache between his legs was beginning to throb each time he looked at the box & let his thoughts drift back to you.

You had to know what even just your innocent little texts did to him when you had been gone this long. Even just a sweet "miss you so much, Buck" sent his blood straight to his cock. It gets him thinking about how you can be all sugar sweet around everyone else then turn into such a dirty girl the minute you get to your bedroom. Hell you loved nothing more than whispering something filthy to him right before walking in a room with someone else just to get him wound up.

He had no idea what he had unleashed the first time you two started getting a little frisky. He loved how you seemed a little old fashioned when you started dating. How you made him court you made him earn each and every little kiss. By the time you two had gotten to the point of sex being a possibility, he was nervous he would scare you away by being too aggressive. Little did he know what awaited him.

He will never forget the night he found out how bad you really were. You had been dating a couple of weeks and had the compound to yourselves for an evening, so it wasn't surprising when watching a movie devolved into a hot and heavy make-out session. He tried not to let on that you had him hard as a rock. He didn't want to put any pressure on you. Then, as you were adjusting to hook your leg around him, your thigh brushed up against his erection making him moan against your lips. He hoped maybe you hadn't noticed or, at the very least, were going to pretend you didn't feel the massive bulge in his pants.

You pulled back to look in his eyes, and he looked like a deer in headlights. He was terrified you were gonna slap him or never want to see him again. He didn't expect you to let out a dark little chuckle and bite his bottom lip. You sucked his lip into your mouth, then let it go with a wet pop before licking it once. He sat frozen as you moved your lips to whisper in his ear. Your voice dropped an octave as you spoke.

"Well, well, soldier, seems like you're enjoying this, huh? Enjoying having my mouth on you. Have you thought about what else I can do with my mouth?" With that, you sucked his earlobe into your mouth, and he let out a little high-pitched squeal he didn't know he could make.

"Maybe my mouth is a bit too much for now, hmm. Don't want you to blow just yet, Buck. What about my hands? Bet you've thought of them touching you. Stroking you all over." 

As you spoke, you moved one hand up to his hair, leaving the other wrapped around his neck, keeping him close to you. Accenting the end of each sentence with the particular touch you described.

"Thought about my fingers pulling on your hair." You purred, gripping his soft, short, dark brown hair and giving it a soft tug.

"My nails scraping down your back." You gently pulled your nails in a straight line down his spine, stopping at the base of it.

"My palm sliding up and down your chest", you let your hand circle his waist and slide up under his shirt, pressing your entire hand flat to the center of his strong chest. You could feel his heart pounding. He had his eyes closed and was trying to keep his breathing steady. His nostrils flared. He didn't want to let you know how close you had him to losing all control.

You paused for a moment, lulling him into a trap to make him open his eyes. You kissed his lips softly and sweetly. Innocently. Then, after rubbing your nose against his, you pulled back to see his beautiful blue eyes. 

Like a cobra, you struck. Using the hand looped around his neck, you grabbed his hair and yanked his head back. You rose to your knees, so you were looking down at him and slowly started pulling your hand downward.

A wicked grin on your face as you dragged the next sentence out word by word. You knew you had him exactly where you wanted him.

".. and I bet that there's something else you've thought about my hands doing, isn't that right, Buck? Bet you've thought about it so much. Bet you've thought about it after every date we've had."

You could feel him inhale sharply as you touched the top of his abdomen. You slowly started to curl your fingers in, leaving just your index finger touching him.

"Maybe you've thought about it when you're in the shower..."

You felt his abs contract under your fingertip.

"I'm sure you've thought about it in bed at night too. I know I have, baby."

Your fingertip hit the top of his jeans, and just for a second, you stopped. Giving him a chance to push you off of him if he didn't want you to go any farther. When all that came from him was a little whimper, you let your fingertip continue over the button & down his fly.

"Bet you've thought about me touching you here. Thought about me touching, and rubbing, and stroking your hard cock. You feel even bigger than I imagined, baby."

After hitting the bottom of his groin with just your fingertip, you turned your hand and gripped him with your whole hand. Starting to massage his entire bulge. A loud moan escaped as he fought the urge to thrust into your hand.

He was now staring at you with his eyes wide & his mouth hanging open. What happened to the sweet shy thing who blushed when he brought you flowers? Here you were a little sexbomb on the verge of making him cum in his pants and you had only just started touching him.

From then on, you just kept surprising him with how dirty you could be. So, really, he shouldn't have been that surprised when he found the naughty little gift you left him when you went on your mission. 

It was the first time either of you had to leave since the 2 of you started dating, let alone having sex. You knew the both of you would be missing each other something bad. So the last night you were together there were lots of pics and few little videos. Bucky knew they were mostly for him. You were gonna have your hands full with the mission.

You had awoken something in him that had been asleep since before he became the Winter Soldier. He couldn't get enough of you, of your body. Of your perfect wet little pussy. He loved telling you that too. That was why you got him the gift.

It was a sex toy. A Fleshlight. 

He picked up the card and read it again:

Something to play with until you can enjoy the real thing again. I picked the one I thought looked the most like your best girl ;)

XOXO

Your best girl and your girlfriend too

He hadn't dared to open the toy yet. He wanted to, but he wasn't sure he could. His 1940s sensibilities were getting the best of him. He wasn't a prude by any means, but the idea of fucking a plastic toy designed to look like a pussy just seemed so... dirty.

Of course, that was also the appeal, wasn't it? Especially the fact that you had picked one you thought looked like your pussy. His pussy. He was curious if it really did. It was hard to tell from the outer box. 

There was no harm in taking a peek, right? You had sent him a message after you knew he had found your gift. Telling him that if he didn't want to use it or it weirded him out that he didn't have to use it or even keep it. 

He would just have a look and then put it away. Figure out his feelings a bit more before he decided what to do. He at least had to know if it did look like you. Although he would put money that it wouldn't be as perfect as yours. Nothing would ever be as perfect to him as your pussy. 

He double-checked to make sure his door was locked. Approaching the box and tentatively picking it up. He looked over the images on the outside and felt himself cringe. It felt like the naked woman on the box was judging him. She looked nothing like you and did absolutely nothing for him. He quickly unsealed and opened the box, and pulled out the toy wrapped in tissue paper. Not sure if he wanted to unwrap just the end or the whole toy. 

He decided to go right for what had him the most curious. The soft, skin colored silicone slowly coming in to view. He let the fingers of his right hand stroke the edge of the silicone. To his surprise, it did feel rather nice under his touch. Now, he was ready to reveal the toy fully. He bit his bottom lip between his teeth as he pulled away the last bit of tissue. A moan pulling deep in his throat. 

Oh fuck, it did look like your pussy. His pussy. His mouth watered and his pants immediately got tight. He couldn't tear his eyes off of it now. He let his thumb stroke over the fake clit on the toy and swore he could almost hear you shudder. Then he used his index and middle finger to trace the plump labia of the toy and momentarily stretch the hole.

He was right, it was nowhere close to as perfect as your juicy pussy, but it was much more tempting than he could ever have thought possible. He wanted to lick it like he would lick you, and he wanted to fuck it like he would fuck you. Was he really going to do this? He picked up your note and read it one more time, imagining the look on your face and the things you would say to him if you were here watching him. 

Yep. He was really going to do this. 

He quickly stuffed the paper wrapping in the box and threw the box under his bed. Pulling the blankets back on his bed and dropping the toy there. Quickly opening his nightstand and fishing for the bottle of lube. Throwing his shirt and jeans off as fast as he could before moving to lay in the very middle of the bed. That way, he could smell your pillow and pretend you were really there with him. 

The toy momentarily forgotten as he began scrolling through the various naughty photos and videos he had of you. Starting to palm and rub at his hard cock through his underwear. He could practically hear you saying how much you loved seeing him in his just his boxer briefs. You always said his cock looked incredible straining against the tight fabric. How they hugged his thighs and his ass perfectly. That you never thought a guy in his underwear could get you that wet.

Fuck you made him feel so good. He forgot all the things he hated about his body when you touched and praised him. You made him feel sexy. You made him want to show off for you. Making a very clear point of saying how all these photos and videos weren't just for him. Maybe he would send you a picture when he was done?

He stopped at a video clip where you were sitting between his legs, slowly taking off your bra and panties. Stopping to rub at him a few times or shake your tits at him. He heard his own voice telling you to pull at your nipples. His cock twitched at the moan that fell from your lips. He knew what was coming next, so he quickly set the phone down reaching for the lube and the pussy toy. 

He flipped the cap up on the lube and let some of the slick clear liquid coat the pads of his fingers just in time to hear himself tell you to take off your panties and show him your pussy. To show him his pussy and how wet you were for him. As you did exactly what he told you to in the video, he let his lube slicked fingers start to pet and stroke the outer lips of the toy. His long middle finger running a small circle around the hole, barely dipping inside before sliding back out and around. 

Once the toy was nice and slick, just like your cunt now on display in the video, he set both it and his phone down just long enough to pull his underwear off. He gasped as he felt the cool air of the room make contact with his leaking tip. He was wetter than he thought he was, clearly underestimating his own need. 

With his phone in one hand and the toy in the other, he waited until he heard his own voice in the video again. Waiting until he told you to come and rub your pretty pussy all over his cock. To get him nice and wet while you made your little pussy feel good.

The next video was a close up of his cock slotted between your pussy lips as you slid yourself back and forth against his shaft. He started to copy your motions in real time, letting the toy slide against his cock in time with your movements. A needy little moan falling from his lips when the toy caressed the ridge under the head of his cock.

His hips unexpectedly bucking a couple of times when he heard your whimpers in the video. If he closed his eyes, he would never think that it was a toy in his hand and not the real thing. It still wasn't you, nothing would ever feel as good as you, but fuck him it still felt so good. 

He couldn't hold himself back much longer, so he flicked to the video of his cock slowly sliding in and out of you cunt. He could never get over how incredible you looked stretched around his length, how his cock glistened with you slick everytime he pulled back out. Your swollen clit front and center and just begging for attention. 

He pulled his attention back to the toy in his hand. Angling it so his tip pressed against the hole of the toy. Adding just enough pressure to feel it start to stretch around his thick leaking head, just like your pussy would. A gasp pulled from his lips as the toy slowly engulfed his tip. Pulling it back up before pushing it down just a little more.

Repeating the same action over and over. Pushing down so the toy swallowed another inch of his cock, then pulling all the way up. Them pushing back down again until he had finally bottomed out. The video on his phone was momentarily forgotten. It felt incredible. So tight and snug and wet around his aching cock. 

His hips acting on their own as he started rutting into the toy. Whimpering as it seemed to suck his cock back in. He fought the urge to start frantically fucking the toy. As good as it felt, and holy fuck did it feel good, he still wanted to fantasize it was your cunt he was fucking. 

He let his eyes close again with his cock fully sheathed in the fake pussy. Quickly rolling onto his side and burying his face in your pillow as his hips started to thrust hard and fast. Moaning as your smell filled his nostrils. Replaying all the mornings you had woken up together only to have innocent spooning turn into fucking. 

Bucky let himself start to whimper little praises as if you were really there. His vibranium hand grabbed at the blankets and clamped around your pillow. Pulling them closer to him. His mind turned to mush as the toy practically sucked the life out of him. 

If he focused, he could almost hear you responding to him. Keening at both his praises and degradation. Saying filthy things right back to him.

“Fuck! Feels so good, baby. Always take my cock so fucking well. Can't wait to have you back in my arms. Can't wait to fuck you for real the second you are home. Miss you so much.”

He felt the heat of his climax building and his balls pulling tighter. Whimpering as he bit your pillow. Imagining he was biting and marking the soft, warm flesh on your neck. His flesh starting to tingle, and sweat starting to form on his brow. His hips thrusting so hard and fast the mattress was creaking. His needy groans and the wet suction of toy echoing through the room.

“Gonna cum, babydoll. Fuck, gonna cum so hard for you!” 

Bucky thought his soul might actually leave his body with how hard he came. Spurt after spurt of his warm release filling the toy. A faint thought in the back of his mind about the possibility the toy might start to overflow. 

Slowly his orgasm faded to electric aftershocks of pleasure. His breath still coming in gasps. His cock starting to soften, still nestled in the warm silicone that suddenly felt nowhere near as comforting as being inside of you. Even if it could give him an incredible orgasm, he was well aware that it wouldn't provide the loving and intimate aftercare that you always gave him. Snuggling his face into your pillow once again, he smiled as he thought about when he would get to hold you in post-coital bliss again.

When he finally caught his breath, he looked back to where he had dropped his phone earlier. The video had ended. Frozen on a closeup of your face with the most wicked smile on your face and the mischievous twinkle in your eyes, he knew so well. He wondered if you were missing him.

He hopes you are missing him, because fuck is he missing you; and your gift only  made him miss you more. He was sure he was addicted to you.

After going to shower and cleaning himself up, along with cleaning the toy, he noticed the light on his phone blinking. Reaching for it once he was settled back down in bed. Frankly, he felt exhausted after trying out your present. Flicking on the screen, he saw that there was a new text message. It was from you. It was an emoji of a smiling Devil followed only by three words.

Enjoying your gift?

--------------------------------

Back to main Kinktober 2023 masterlist

Back to main masterlist

[biblio-smia]

shy shy shy

a little insecure tasm peter parker x reader, early stages of relationship

masterlist | requests are open!

buy me a ko-fi!

nerdy peter lovers rise

They were just glasses.

On, off. On, off. A clear reflection of Peter in the bathroom mirror, a few circles of color where his head and body would be.

Peter examines himself with the lenses on, pulls out a piece of his sweater that had gotten caught inside his plaid pajama pants. His hands run up through the damp hair that falls flat against his forehead in an attempt to give it a little volume but it's no use without his usual styling products. Peter slaps his palms on his cheeks, shakes his head and sends micro-drops of water sailing. He bounces in place, attempting to shake out the jitters his body has had trouble containing all day.

Peter pushes his contact lens case aside, gives himself one last glance over. He contemplates for a few seconds, biting the inside of his cheek. Peter sighs as he pulls the lenses off again, cradling them in his hands and blowing air through his lips.

Metal frames, thick lenses.

Couldn't have that spider fixed his vision while he was at it?

Okay, Peter's vision wasn't that bad. Maybe he could survive without the frames Peter felt altered his appearance so drastically (or at least, reflected more accurately the type of person Peter was in his spare time). Peter with Contacts was cool and confident - scaled back from the confidence he had while he was in his suit, but not as pathetic as he was back in high school. Peter with Glasses? Yeah, that guy looked deserving of wedgies.

He reaches for his phone to check the time (and make sure he hasn't left you alone for too long), but can't make out what the white numbers say through his cracked screen.

Okay, maybe it is pretty bad.

Peter sighs, picks up the mess he'd made pre and post shower, hyping himself up one more time before opening the door and flipping the light switch off.

Peter pads down the hallway and peers his head around the corner into the small living room. He squints and can just barely make out the top of your head sitting on his couch.

Even though he can't see you very well, Peter's heart makes a funny feeling in his chest, even through the eye strain.

It's like you can feel Peter's eyes on you (which, you probably can - Peter is working overtime to try and make out the details of you) because you sit a little straighter and turn your head. Peter pushes his glasses on just in time to see you smile. And then grin.

"You wear glasses?"

Your voice is curious, not at all condescending, though Peter can hear the smile in your voice as you come up to meet him.

"For the aesthetics," Peter grins, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms in an attempt to make you believe the false sense of confidence he's putting up. It's stupid, really, but a tiny piece of Peter thinks someone as consistently perfect as you should be with someone who is equally on par. And, at the moment, Peter feels like he's letting you down.

You stand close to Peter, too close (his heart can't stop fluttering and his breath has caught in his throat). Peter fights the urge to pull you close to him. Too much, too soon, though he'd really like to kiss you right about now.

You try to contain your smile, a part of you still not quite believing that you've been so consistently guilty of making Peter Parker flustered.

Your fingers gently pull Peter's glasses off with a glint in your eye and Peter frowns at the sudden loss of sight - only because he doesn't want to miss looking at you from so close.

"For the aesthetics, huh?" You grin, turning the glasses to measure the thickness of Peter's lenses. Your suspicions about the strength of his prescription are confirmed by the way Peter's eyes are squeezed together as he looks at you.

"A hundred percent," Peter persists, opening his eyes normally and looking straight at the blurred lines of your face.

You take a step back and flash your phone at Peter, tiny words melted into a block of black. Peter instinctively squints and leans forward, trying to distinguish what the small screen said.

"You're like a grandma," you laugh, fully now.

"You should feel horrible for making fun of the elderly." Peter's arms drop, reaching for his glasses with an easy smile. But you move your hands away and Peter's hands catch on the crooks of your arms as you carefully place Peter's glasses back on his face, taking care to place them behind his ears as comfortably as you can. Your fingers graze against Peter's hair, still damp from his shower, gently moving a few stray pieces back into place.

"Well, you can't go to sleep like that," you murmur. "You'll get sick."

"So I guess we have time to kill?" Peter asks, hoping the two of you will sit down for a movie - or anything that'd keep him close to you, really.

"I guess we do," you grin, hands falling to Peter's shoulders, savoring the feeling of his hands on you, unable to help the craving you have for more.

"Pete?"

"Hmm?" Peter is partially entranced, melted like chocolate with the sweet sound of that little nickname coming out of your mouth. His eyes flicker and he's trying not to stare at your lips, bottom lip caught in his mouth in anticipation.

"Could I put my stuff in your room?" You ask sweetly, trying not to laugh at the way Peter falters, blinking quickly.

"Oh, yeah, sure," Peter nods frantically, hoping he's not as red as he feels.

You bite back your grin as Peter stays there, not moving until you do, sweet brown eyes slightly magnified by his glasses. Oh, but it'd be so cruel to deny him.

You press a quick kiss to the corner of Peter's mouth. It's a little shy and you turn away immediately to grab the overnight bag you'd packed. Two pairs of cheeks are red and grateful for the excuse of it, trying to shake off the little bit of nervousness the two of you still have around each other. It's a little strange, neither of you quite used to having someone around to love so freely. It's new, too, both of you still a little afraid to do something that would scare the other off, each of you knowing you'd never be the one to run off.

But this tiny fear that lives in both of your brains is what had Peter picking over his appearance earlier and is what makes him nervous now as he leads you down the hall to his room. He'd cleaned it thoroughly, considering hiding all his trinkets and trophies, ended up shoving things that had littered his shelves into his closet.

Peter takes a breath before opening his creaky door, smiling as he welcomes you in, hoping you somehow wouldn't notice - or maybe, wouldn't care to ask about - any of the posters or books or medals or figurines that made Peter, Peter. He was partially embarrassed and entirely nervous about sharing more of himself with you. After all, Peter was an expert at shutting people out and not too great at letting them in.

He doesn't know if he's relieved or even more anxious as you stare in awe, bag abandoned near his bed. It's clear you're taking in every detail of Peter's room, eyes not missing a single decoration. Peter feels as if he's being dissected, fidgeting as he waits for you to finish your analyzing. He's about to suggest that movie when you walk over to the desk he has shoved against the wall. Peter doesn't think there's anything special about books and pencils, but you're touching the tops of the things on his desk with care and a fascination he doesn't quite understand.

You quietly move onto old trophies and medals Peter has displayed, only the ones he was proudest of.

"Princeton Math Competition? Wow, Pete." You only turn your attention to him momentarily, returning your eyes to the shelf with a grin.

Peter's heart flutters when you sound... impressed? It was an accomplishment he was proud of, but not something he went around telling strangers.

"Oh, that... that- that's old," Peter laughs, coming up behind you, sure now there'd be no chance of getting you to watch that movie.

"Tell me about it."

"W...what?" Peter laughs, glancing at you curiously.

"I wanna hear about it," you say genuinely, taking a seat on the edge of Peter's bed. "Tell me about it."

Peter doesn't have to tell you he's shocked for you to realize it, a small smile tugging at your lips as you look up at him. Peter's not sure he has the courage to ask why before you beat him, sensing his hesitancy.

"I wanna know everything about you Peter. I wanna hear about your math competitions. I want you to tell me what books you're reading. I wanna know what matters most to you," you shrug, face a little warm from the confession. You don't have too much time to be embarrassed before Peter is next to you, hands digging into the bed at your sides. His face is inches away, his breath warm on your lips.

"Please let me kiss you," Peter whispers.

"Please do," you whisper back, letting Peter take your face in his hands and pull you into a kiss. The surface you've chosen is a little unstable as the both of you shift around, neither of you quite able to let the other go until you're forced to, breathless and grinning.

Peter's glasses have fogged up and he groans, pulling them off exasperatedly. "God, I hate these things."

"Really? But you look so good in them," you comment innocently, picking up the frames and attempting to look through them, muttering something about how, wow, Peter is blind.

Peter's not paying attention, though, heart hammering in his chest. He takes you by surprises when he kisses you this time, glasses still in your hands as they rest against his chest.

"You're trouble," Peter says when he finally pulls away. "You're doing awful things to my heart."

"Should I make fun of you, then?" You tease.

"Oh, I think that'd make it worse."

"I didn't know you were into that."

Peter shoves you as you laugh, though he can't help but join you.

"I didn't know you were into nerds," Peter quips, letting you slide his glasses back onto his face - the ones that suddenly don't seem that bad anymore.

"Only the really pretty ones," you murmur, and really, how could Peter not kiss you for that one?

Peter tries to take his glasses off as your kissing grows heated, knowing they'll be useless when they eventually fog up anyway. But your hand stops Peter, lips puffy from plenty of kisses and still eager for more.

"Nuh-uh," you say, pulling Peter's hand back down. "Keep them on."

[candylix]

one little lie | hyung line (part 2)

Pairing • FWB!Minho x Fem!Reader x Hyung Line

A/N • This is part 2! You can see the series masterlist here.

Summary • The boys have one rule in their shared apartment. Don't bring girls over for sex. So when Chan, Hyunjin, and Changbin walk in on Minho fucking the living daylights out of you in the living room, he has to lie to save his own skin. His excuse? That's not a girl under him... you're a sex robot. And now they all want to try you out.

Genre • smut, sci-fi ish? (sex robots are a thing in this world that people know about and use)

WC • 3.1k

Content • reader pretends to be a sex robot, free use, dubcon, groping, nipple play, boob sex, orgasm denial, edging, riding, daddy kink, threesome, tiny bit of overstim, Minho discovers he's really into watching you get fucked by other people.

Minho walks you out of the bathroom, and you head to Hyunjin's room. You're walking through his apartment naked, about to be handed off to his roommate for sex, and somehow you're more okay with it than you were earlier. Minho knocks on Hyunjin's bedroom door, and when it swings open to reveal a gorgeous man wearing only his boxers, you can feel you core start to throb in anticipation.

"Thank you for the delivery," Hyunjin says. He grabs your shoulders to pull you towards him, but Minho doesn't let go.

"Be careful with her, she's still sensitive after Changbin."

Hyunjin pauses at that statement.

"How can she be sensitive, she's a robot," he asks, and Minho tuts at him.

"I told you, she's very realistic. I couldn't even clean her up without her twitching every time I touched her."

Literally not true, but you couldn't complain out loud.

"I promise I'll be gentle. Happy?" he says, and Minho rolls his eyes.

He pulls your body towards him, and Minho reluctantly gives you away to him. He buries your face in his chest, wrapping his arms around your torso, and drags you away to his bed. Hyunjin looks back to his door, where Minho is still waiting.

"Are you planning on standing there? Close the door."

"Oh, right," he says, and hits his hand on the door frame before grabbing the handle to close the door.

His bed is in the corner of the room, and he props you up against a wall. You sit on his bed in front of him, and he admires your body.

"This is so fucking realistic, holy shit."

He spreads your legs, and takes a seat between them. His eyes are glued to your chest. He takes your boobs in his hands, weighing them, and then bouncing them. He plays with your tits, squeezing, pulling, pushing them together, pinching your nipples, exploring everything he can do with them. He's like a kid in a candy shop, if the kid was a grown man and the candy was your boobs.

Finally, he brings his mouth to one of your nipples, and you feel his tongue lick circles around it and over it until it's erect. He lightly bites it, and you yelp.

"Oh, that gets you vocal, huh? Interesting."

He goes back to teasing your nipple, licking and nipping, experimenting with what else causes you to make noise. He fondles one of your boobs with his hand while sucking on the opposite nipple, and he finally gets you to let out a quiet moan. Satisfied with himself, he turns to move.

He hops off the bed, and as he pulls down his boxers, you get a full view of his dick. It's not as thick as Changbin's, but it's long. You can feel yourself leaking from the sight of it.

He steps back to the bed, and lays you flat on your back. He climbs on top of you, straddling your waist, and lies down on top of you, burying his face into your chest. His long dick presses against your core, throbbing against you as he gropes your breasts. You whimper at the contact. You want nothing more than for him to start already. You can feel him stiffen up as he fondles you, and his body starts mindlessly rocking. His dick drag itself over your pussy as he rocks, and he pinches your nipples, earning another yelp from you.

He suddenly stops, and grabs your wrists. He lifts your arms up to your chest, and places your hands on your boobs to push them together. He lets go of you, and when your hands stay where they are, he smiles.

"Whoa, that worked."

He snuggles into your tits for a while, feeling how soft you were under him. When he's done, he moves his body, and you feel his dick slide away from your pussy. He straddles your stomach, and positions his cock between your tits. He slides it in, and you feel how hard he is already. Your boobs wrap around his dick, and it throbs inside your soft mounds. He hovers over you, with his arms on either side of your head as he holds himself up.

With a steady roll of his hips, he moans softly as he thrusts his long cock into you, the tip poking out the other side before getting sucked back in. He slowly rocks into you, feeling the way his stiff cock drags against your plush flesh. He wants to feel every inch of himself between your boobs, and he watches as they jiggle with every thrust.

His arousal grows at the sight, and he groans as he rocks into you faster. You press your boobs together harder, fully enveloping his dick and overwhelming his senses with the increased pressure.

"Fuck," he moans, and bucks into you desperately.

Your entire body rocks under him as he fucks your tits faster, humping your chest with all his energy. The movement of your body under him and his loud moans has your core pulsing intensely, and you want nothing more than to have him thrusting inside your pussy. You can't even touch yourself with him on top of you like this, with your hands busy holding together your boobs while he fucks them. The entire bed rocks with him, creaking louder with every thrust.

A string of 'fuck, fuck, fuck' escapes his lips each time his dick buries itself into your tits, getting louder as the feeling builds.

Your boobs push and pull against you, bouncing in rhythm with his hard cock as it grinds against your chest. He moans louder as he feels his orgasm coming, and he increases the speed of his humping, which only shakes your boobs harder. A groan slips out of you at the sensation, and the sound takes him over the edge.

With a loud moan, his cum splatters across your chest and onto your neck as he reaches his climax. The creaks of the bed get quieter as he slows down, and his rocking gets softer and softer as he rides out his high. He finally finishes, and he pulls out his dick from between your breasts.

He doesn't pull your hands away, though, and lays down on top of you, his face buried in your chest. His thigh sits in between your legs, pressing against your bare cunt. You want to hump into him, feel anything to relieve yourself. You're wet, pulsing, and can't do anything about it.

Finally, he rolls off of you, panting in exhaustion.

"Shit, I forgot to set my name," he says, and you desperately wish he remembered so he could stuff his long cock into you. "Next time."

You don't want him to do it next time, you want him to do it now.

But you can't tell him that, and can't touch yourself, so you're left entirely at the whims of the man breathing heavily beside you.

"God," he says, in between breaths, "that was fun." His hand is back on your boob, kneading it softly. "I can't give you back to Jisung."

He fondles you, rubbing your nipple with his index finger. You're so sensitive that the slightest touch makes you whimper, which only makes him want to touch it more. After a few excruciating minutes of Hyunjin unknowingly edging you, you hear hard knocking at his door.

"Hyunjin, give her back!" Minho yells.

"No!" Hyunjin yells back, and Minho barges into the room. He sees Hyunjin, naked and playing with your boob, and he feels the same way as when he saw you leaking on Changbin's bed— arousal. And he has no idea why. Hyunjin quickly sits up to cover himself with a pillow, and you're finally released from his grasp.

"You can't just come in here!" Hyunjin says, but Minho ignores him, and walks over to the bed. He looks to the cum stain on your chest, and it's hard not to notice his bulge growing.

"Yes I can. You didn't even lock the door," he says, ignoring the throbbing in his pants.

He pulls you up off the bed, and Hyunjin just huffs in disappointment, but doesn't stop Minho from taking you away. You walk back to the bathroom, which has now become your refuge, and the only place you can actually talk. Minho is already wiping your neck before you can even sit down.

"Two down, one to go. How're you feeling? Was he gentle?"

Hyunjin didn't touch your aching core, so you were feeling extremely needy and not entirely of sound mind.

"Worse than gentle. If I don't get something in me right now, I might explode," you say. You don't even care how insane you sound at this point.

You reach for the zipper of Minho's pants and pull it down, but he grabs your wrists before you can go any further.

"Whoa, slow down. Save that for Chan."

"Minho, please," you whine. He's still holding you, so you can't even touch yourself to relieve the ache.

"Wait just a little bit longer."

You pout at his command, but comply. You resist the growing urge to hump his leg. He holds both your wrists in one hand, while the other wipes the rest of the cum off your collarbone and chest. He takes his time with it, and you think he's going intentionally slow just to mess with you.

"See, that wasn't so bad, right?" he says, finally finished cleaning you up. "Now we can go see Chan."

He opens the door, and walks you back to the living room where Chan is waiting. Neither Changbin nor Hyunjin are there, so you assume they're still recovering in their rooms.

Chan stands up when he sees you walk in.

"I'll help you bring her to my room," he says, and he and Minho take you to your last destination.

"Where are we putting her?" Minho asks, and Chan hesitates.

"Actually... do you know if she can... ride people?" he says bashfully.

Minho looks at you, but you give no visible response. Not that you'd be able to.

"I don't know... probably not. She'd need help moving on you."

"Oh..." Chan says, looking defeated. "I guess we can just put her on my bed."

"Wait-" Minho interjects. His mouth is faster than his brain. "I could help you."

"What?"

"Like... with having her ride you. I can help."

Chan's face goes red.

"But that would mean having you watch me."

"That's not a big deal, right? Just bros helping bros. You want her to ride you, and I'll get her to do it."

Chan stares at him for a moment, debating in his mind if he wants this or not.

"Ok," he finally responds, "just bros helping bros."

Chan sits down on his office chair, and slides off his sweatpants and briefs. Minho moves you in front of him while Chan jerks himself off, just enough to get hard. His dick is big and leaking precum, and you're excited to have it inside you. You'd be excited to have anything inside you at this moment, but Chan looks tantalizing, sitting there with his hard cock out, just for you. He holds up his dick, waiting for you to sit on him.

"Remember to set your name when you're inside her," Minho reminds him.

"Right."

He lowers you down onto Chan, and you're finally about to get some relief. You're still extremely wet from your last encounter, so you slide onto him easily. He groans at the overflowing juices surrounding his cock, and how easily he's able to get himself inside you. He quickly fills you up, and he hits a sensitive bundle of nerves. You want to bounce on him, feel him hit that spot again and again, but you know you aren't allowed to move until Minho moves you. It's agonizing.

"Daddy," Chan says, surprising you and Minho both.

"Daddy," you moan, and you feel his dick throb at the sound of your voice.

"Daddy?" Minho asks. "I didn't know you were into that."

"Are you here to assist or make commentary?" Chan says, annoyed at his interruption.

"Sorry," Minho says, and stops talking.

Chan lifts up your arms, placing your hands on his shoulders, and lays his own on the armrests of his chair. Minho grabs your ass, and lifts you slightly. You feel Chan's cock slipping out of you, and you clench at the slow loss of contact, making Chan groan. Then Minho drops you back on his lap, and his dick spears your sensitive spot, causing you to moan loudly. You're finally getting the relief you've been whining about. Minho picks you up again, lifting you up and down on Chan's cock, and Chan's knuckles turn white as he grips the armrests.

You have no control over the pace of your bouncing, relying on Minho to lift you up and lower you down. But he does a good job, and every time Chan fills you up, your impending orgasm comes closer.

"Faster," Chan moans, and Minho picks up speed. He slides you down faster on Chan's dick, and it hits the right spot particularly hard.

"Daddy," you moan, and Chan's head goes back. He rolls his hips into you, increasing the impact against your pussy. His dick forces his way into you, and he's thick enough to rub against all of your walls as he penetrates you harder and harder. You can't help but to buck your hips into him, lifting yourself up and into him.

Minho doesn't have to do much now, you're moving all on your own, and Chan is too fucked out to notice, but he keeps his hands on your ass to sell it anyway. He leans his hips closer to you, and you feel his dick press against your ass as you bounce on Chan. You rub into him, and Minho moans against the friction.

You're very close now. You yell out 'daddy' with every thrust he makes into you, and Chan is a moaning mess on the chair. He can barely keep his eyes open anymore. The pleasure takes over his mind, and he bucks into you faster, completely uncoordinated with the pace of your bouncing. His thrusts penetrate you at erratic intervals, causing you to moan louder every time his cock buries itself fully in you. You can't think straight anymore, all you can do is submit to the feeling and yell out 'daddy' over and over again.

The only one still functioning is Minho, who's extremely turned on watching you fuck yourself on Chan's massive cock. He wished he could see the expression on your face every time Chan's dick rams into you, but hearing you loudly moaning is enough to know you're loving it. He's still grinding himself against your ass, and he can feel his own orgasm coming. But he knows if he cums now, he wont be able to hold you up and watch you cum on Chan's lap, so he stands back away from you. His dick throbs in his pants, but he knows he'll relieve himself later.

Chan continues bucking into you at an erratic pace, and every time his dick bottoms you out, you moan louder. You can feel your orgasm coming, and with one last thrust into your g-spot, you reach your climax.

"Daddy," you moan, clenching your walls against him, and a wave of liquid flushes out of you, drenching his cock with your cum.

"Oh my god," he moans out, feeling your juices spurt out of your pussy and onto his body. He grabs your hips, and rams into you harder, not letting you have a moment of rest as you come down from your high. His pace is unrelenting, and you spasm on his body as he thrusts into you. You hold onto his shoulder, trying to keep yourself up. He doesn't stop, and Minho helps him bounce you faster on his throbbing cock. The feeling overwhelms you, and you can't control your moans as he slams his dick into your sensitive cunt.

His own climax finally comes, and white hot liquid fills your pussy as he finally slows down. Minho's gently lowers you down, holding your ass as he hovers you over Chan's lap. Chan keeps humping into you, thrusts getting weaker as he rides out his high. Finally, he stops, and Minho lowers you down completely on him. Chan bottoms you out, but you're both too tired to do anything more. Chan leans back on his chair, and you lean back onto Minho.

"Fuck," is all Chan manages to say.

Minho begins to lift you up, and the movement of Chan's dick slipping out of you causes you to twitch, while Chan groans. He lifts you up completely, and your legs feel like jelly. Luckily, Minho is there to keep you standing.

He helps you walk, using considerably more effort than before. Before you leave, Chan calls out to him.

"Thanks... that was amazing."

Minho gives him an awkward thumbs up, and you both leave the room.

You collapse onto the toilet seat when you arrive at the bathroom.

"I'm gonna go get your clothes. You... catch your breath."

You can only nod in response, too tired to speak, and he leaves you there.

You can feel your mind clear, and your pussy leak with Chan's cum.

It's done. Minho's roommates have all fucked you, used you the way they wanted. Jisung would be here soon, and you could finally leave this all behind. You no longer had to pretend to be a sex robot.

So why did you feel disappointed?

The door opens, and Minho has your clothes in hand, and a visible erection in his pants.

You snicker at him.

"I didn't know you were into cucking, Minho."

"What? No I'm not."

"You literally volunteered to help Chan fuck me."

His cheeks go red, and he can't look you in the eye.

"W-well, you seemed to like having them fuck you like a sex doll."

"I was just acting," you say, and this time it's your turn to blush at his accusation.

"Was it acting when you were screaming Changbin's name? Or when you were moaning daddy, daddy-"

"Ok! Stop!" you say, waving your arms to get him to stop talking. "We both discovered something about ourselves today."

"I guess we did," he responds, and places your clothes on the counter. He uses a fresh towel to wipe you down, and you get dressed.

"Jisung should be here any second," Minho says.

One last time, he opens the bathroom door, and walks you out.

read part 3 here

taglist:

@loeyscock @0325tiny @5starlee @miupow @mapofthemazeinthemirror @sadrosessing @luminouskalopsia @minghaosimp @curiousgworge @azuna-sz @piscesrising01 @g-bbzz @extrhotjne @nabi-tokoshi @weareapackofstrays

[seeingivy]

hair stylist

satoru gojo x f!reader

content: dad!gojo + megumi and tsumiki kiddos

an: a request from my beloved @luna0713hunter <3

--

“wanna take my mission today?” 

you momentarily look up from your current task - braiding tsumiki’s hair - to find satoru cheesing at you from the doorway, with a big smile on his face. 

“i mean, not really.” 

he pouts as he pads into tsumiki’s room, flopping down on the bed next to the two of you. you focus back on the ends of her brown hair, meticulously braiding every last strand into the fishtail braid tsumiki begged you to do for her. 

you remember the first time she came into your bedroom, her shy little eyes peeking into your shared bedroom with satoru on the first day of school. 

“y/n?” 

you turn around, gesturing for her to fully come into the room, as satoru gets dressed into his uniform in the bathroom. she shyly takes a seat on the edge of the bed, swirling a lock of her own hair in her fingers. 

“hi kiddo. need something?” 

she scoots closer to you on the bed and buries her face into the sheets, her red all neck against the white cloth. you bring your hand down on her back, rubbing soft circles into her skin. 

“hey. you okay, tsumiki?” you whisper, trying to stay as soft and quiet as you can. gentle, so she won’t run away. 

“yeah. i just wanted to ask you something.” she responds, her voice muffled. 

you wrap your hands around her wrists to pull her up, her bright pink face staring back at you. 

“canyoubraidmyhair?” she murmurs out, so fast you barely catch it. 

“huh?” 

she sighs as she lies flat down on the sheets this time, facing up. 

“every girl comes to school with pretty braids. fishtail, french, side braids. and i want to do my hair like that too but no one ever taught me how. when i was a kid, my mom used to do them for me so i never how to by myself.” 

at the mention of her mom, you immediately perk up, running to your room to grab your combs, elastics, and pins to braid her soft, brown hair into the half ass braid job you learned how to do in middle school. and when she looks in the mirror, excitedly running her hands over the braided locks with a smile on her face, it’s all the more worth it. 

“why do you want me to take your mission, ‘toru?” 

he readjusts his long legs onto tsumiki’s tiny bed as he looks over at you, one of his free hands swinging tsumiki’s french braid on the left in the air. you immediately smack his hand off her hair, which causes her to break out into a fit of giggles, as you look at him. 

“you always get to take the kids to school. i wanted to do it for once.” he pouts, now tickling tsumiki at the sides. 

“can you please take us to school? can we get milkshakes on the way?” tsumiki asks, the excitement rising in her voice. 

you lightly tug on tsumiki’s hair as the two of them start scheming on everything they’re going to do the morning of. make strawberry pancakes, listen to loud music on the way there, flip off that stupid traffic guard who always makes you guys late. 

“I didn’t even say yes yet, satoru.” you deadpan, the two of them turning their heads around towards you. 

they both have matching pouts on their face as they beg you, pleading with everything they’ve got. they’re both shaking your hands - claiming they’ll do the dishes for a week, clean the dirt they track in after baseball practice, give you a massage if you’ll take satoru’s mission so he can take them to school for once. 

“fine. i’ll take the mission.” you respond, the two of them immediately toppling over you on the beg to give you a hug and press wet kisses to your cheeks. 

– 

your phone buzzes in your pocket for the tenth time as you and nanami patrol down the halls of the abandoned penitentiary. 

“is that gojo?” 

“who else would it be, kento?” you sigh, yanking your phone out of your pocket to read through the texts. 

from ‘toru 

‘toru: attachment: one image

‘toru: megumi isn’t too happy about our change of transportation. 

‘toru: update, bought him a milkshake. he smiled for two seconds. i’m basically his favorite now. 

‘toru: nvm. he’s mad now. I accidentally honked at his teacher and called her a snail while the window was down. 

you zoom in on the picture, tsumiki and satoru cheesing in the front as megumi looks away from the camera, his line of vision focused on the view outside the window. you tuck your phone back into your pocket after hearting the image, only to see the curse directly to the side of nanami. 

he hasn’t noticed it either, too focused on the residuals on the wall, so you lean forward immediately pushing the two of you to the ground as the curse runs into the wall. 

you immediately scramble to your feet as nanami stands up, the two of you charging towards the curse on the left. there’s around four, the lot of them surrounding you. it takes you and nanami around twenty minutes to exorcise, leaving the two of you stretching out your bones when you’re done. 

“i haven’t done this in so long. i can feel my bones cracking, kento.” 

you reach down to touch the tip of your toes when you notice it. the chunk of your hair missing. 

you immediately bolt up and run towards the closest window and feel your heart drop when you see your own reflection. it seems that when you knocked nanami down to avoid the curse from hitting him, you nicked a reasonable amount of your own hair in the process.

“are you okay? did you hurt yourself?” 

“my hair. i think i cut it when i fell on the blade.” you whisper, still running your hands through the locks in the dark. 

“did you nick the skin? does it hurt?” he asks, cracking his knuckles as you take the veil down. 

“no. i didn’t even feel it. I think it’s okay.”  

“well, that’s good, considering all things. i’ll see you friday, right?” 

you give him a polite nod as you both turn on your heels, marking on your separate ways. and the despair of the entire ordeal sits in your chest as you drag your way home. 

– 

you shove your key into the lock, swinging the door open with your back. the apartment is filled with the sound of soft giggles as you pad into the kitchen, the three of them hunched over against the counter. 

tsumiki and satoru are making some mess of what looks like paper mache while megumi does his little galaxy puzzle on the counter, his eyebrows knitted together in concentration. 

you push past them as you basically sprint to your bedroom to survey the damage in good light. you can feel the tears burning behind your eyes as you look at the mess on your head. 

the right side is still intact, coming all the way down to your normal length. but the left side, the entire mess is jagged and cut up to your shoulder. the mark isn’t clear cut, some of them closer to your shoulder while a few are still at their regular length. 

you hear a knock on your door and satoru pads into the room, his hands coming down on your shoulders and squeezing as he presses a soft kiss to one of your cheeks. he leans his head against your shoulder, eyes obscured by the fabric of your uniform as he murmurs into your skin. 

“how was the mission, love? hurt anywhere?” 

you wipe the wet tears on your face with the back of your hand as he lifts his head off your shoulder, immediately running his eyes and his hands on you to find the aching parts after your lack of a response to his question. 

“where? do you want me to bandage, you should go lie down and rest and you-” he murmurs under his breath, as he presses his hands to your arms, looking for a patch of red, purple, anything out of the ordinary. 

“i’m not hurt, ‘toru. sorry, i-” 

he brings his face up to yours, his eyes washed over in concern as he wraps his hands around your cheeks, his hands warm against your skin. 

“what is it? let me fix it, i-” he whispers, bringing up his hands to cup your face. 

you sigh as you wrap your fingers around his wrists, his hands still fixed on your face. 

“i knocked ken’ out of the way when we were in there and fell on my blade. i nicked like half of my hair off, satoru” you whine, the tears filling your eyes again. 

he lifts his hands up to examine the jagged cuts, his fingers carding through the locks. 

“no cuts. that’s-that’s good, love. you-”

you wrap your hands around his neck as he circles his own around your waist, rubbing small circles into the small of your back. he’s whispering soft words into your ears, the sentiment making you cry even more. 

“you’re still my pretty girl, you know that? we can fix it and you-” 

“satoru. I love my long hair. and i know it’s silly to cry over hair when i could have been worse but, but it’s-” 

“it means something, sweetheart. i know.” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to the top of your hair. 

you nod as you turn back to the mirror, running your hands through the hair. satoru reaches for the closest drawer on top of the counter, yanking out a pair of silver scissors as he gives you a smile. you give him a meek nod as you gather your hair at the back, for him to cut off the last chunks of your long hair.

except he takes the scissors and leans forward in the mirror to cut off his own chunk of hair, holding the white locks open in his fist. 

“what- satoru. what are you doing?” 

he swings open the door and calls out for tsumiki and megumi, as he shaggily messes with his newly cut hair in the mirror. he’s still taking some off the sides, his face scrunched up in concentration as the scissors move into his hair. tsumiki and megumi pad into the bathroom, their eyes wide at the sight of you two.

“what are you guys doing?” tsumiki asks. 

“haircuts. you’re both getting split ends.” he responds, so matter of factly that tsumiki and megumi run up to the mirror, running their hands through their own hair at the comment. tsumiki turns around to your side, brown eyes staring into yours. 

“can you do my hair short like yours? long on one side and short on the other?” 

you smile as you lift her up by the waist to sit her on the counter, running a comb through her hair as megumi nearly fights with satoru who is trying to do the same. 

“my hair wasn’t quite done, sweet girl. i can keep it as it is if you’d like?” 

“no, no. i want short hair like yours if you’re going to do short hair.” 

you can feel the tears burning in your eyes as satoru smiles at you in the mirror, mouthing “mama’s girl” as you reach for the extra set of scissors. megumi’s yelling at him for taking his eyes away for even a second while he has scissors in his hair, which has the two of them arguing with each other like there’s no tomorrow. 

you brush tsumiki's hair, the look on her face is so excited, as you snip the long strands of her hair out. she’s running her hands through her hair excitedly when you finish, even more excited when satoru starts cutting your hair to look just like hers. 

you switch with gojo, evening out the mess he made of his own hair and the hack job he did to megumi, until everyone’s hair is to the best of your doing - black, brown, and white hair sprawled all over the counter and the floor. 

“okay megs, miki. run to the bathroom, we’ll be right there to help you shower.” 

they both run out of the bathroom, their little footsteps dying out in the background as you turn back to satoru, whose pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. 

“i like the hair, love. you look like one of those cunty moms who serves on a school board. gets her panties in a real twist over sliced apples.” 

you laugh as you run your hands through his shortened white hair, leaning forward to press a kiss to the top of his forehead. 

“thank you for that, you-” 

“be quiet. i-i’m just taking care of you, love. you always help me clean up after missions, pressing soft kisses to all my bruises as i go to sleep. this is just me doing the same for you.” he whispers, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your lips. 

you pull back and give him the biggest smile you can as you two lock hands to undertake your next mission. 

get megumi to take a shower without complaining the entire time. you already know you’ll be the one soothing satoru after this one.

--

taglist: @porridgesblog  @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @squirrelspoetry

[30somethingautisticteacher]

Rewriting Their Stories

The 118 crew and their partners lounged around the fire pit in Bobby and Athena's backyard, the flames casting a warm glow on their faces. Buck nestled closer to Tommy on the small outdoor loveseat, a soft blanket draped over them. As he gazed around at his chosen family, a wave of gratitude washed over him.

Chimney's voice broke through the comfortable silence. "Alright, next question: first kisses. Who was yours and when?" He grinned mischievously. "Maddie, you're up."

Maddie groaned good-naturedly, rolling her eyes at her husband. "Fine. Jeremy Billings, sixth grade." She paused, scrunching her nose at the memory. "His lips were like sandpaper, and our braces nearly got stuck together. Not exactly the stuff of romance novels."

The group erupted in laughter, the sound mingling with the crackling fire.

Maddie, still chuckling at her own embarrassing memory, turned to Bobby. "Alright, Bobby, you're up next."

Bobby's eyes crinkled with amusement as he leaned back, one arm draped around Athena's shoulders. "Eileen Rogers, eighth grade," he said, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. "It was at my first co-ed party, during a rather intense game of spin the bottle."

Athena raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on her lips. "Spin the bottle, huh? Should I be jealous of this Eileen?"

Bobby chuckled, pulling his wife closer. "Trust me, it was about as awkward as Maddie's orthodontic adventure. We bumped noses before we even got to the kiss part."

The group dissolved into laughter once more, the camaraderie evident in their shared amusement.

As the laughter died down, Buck felt Tommy tense beside him. Glancing up, he noticed a shadow pass over his partner's face. Concern flickered in Buck's eyes as he leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. "Hey, you okay?"

Tommy nodded, but the gesture lacked conviction. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, and his gaze seemed fixed on some distant point beyond the fire.

Buck's brow furrowed, his arm tightening protectively around Tommy's waist. He knew his boyfriend well enough to sense that something was off, but he also understood that now wasn't the time to press the issue. Instead, he simply intertwined their fingers under the blanket, offering a silent gesture of support.

"Tommy, you're up," Bobby said.

Tommy swallowed hard, his gaze distant. "Uh, Chad Miller," he began, his voice barely audible over the crackling fire. "I was... I was 14."

He paused, his grip tightening on Buck's hand beneath the blanket. "My dad walked in on us," Tommy added, his tone flat, devoid of the playful nostalgia that had colored the others' stories.

A heavy silence fell over the group, the jovial atmosphere dissipating like smoke in the night air. Buck instinctively pulled Tommy closer, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of his partner's hand.

Athena, ever perceptive, smoothly intervened. "How about we take a quick break? I think we could use some more snacks." Her suggestion was met with murmurs of agreement as the group began to stir, offering Tommy a moment to collect himself.

Later that night, in the quiet of their home, Buck finally broached the subject. They were curled up on the couch, the TV playing softly in the background, more for ambiance than entertainment.

"Hey," Buck said softly, his fingers gently combing through Tommy's hair. "You wanna talk about what happened earlier? About your first kiss?"

Tommy was silent for a long moment, his eyes fixed on some invisible point. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, tinged with old pain. "There's not much to say, really. My dad caught his son kissing another boy, and he... well, he reacted how you'd expect."

The words hung heavy in the air, laden with unspoken hurt. Buck's arm tightened around Tommy, offering silent support and protection against memories that couldn't be changed.

"I'm sorry you went through that," Buck murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to Tommy's temple. "You didn't deserve it."

Tommy let out a shaky breath, leaning into Buck's embrace. "I know that now. It's just... sometimes the memories catch me off guard, you know?"

Tommy's voice was barely above a whisper, each word heavy with long-buried pain. "I stayed in that house for another three years after that day. My dad... I don't think he ever looked me in the eye again. He was so ashamed."

He paused, his body tense against Buck's. Buck remained silent, offering a reassuring squeeze, encouraging Tommy to continue at his own pace.

"And Chad," Tommy's voice cracked slightly. "He was terrified. Threatened to kick my ass and out me to everyone if I breathed a word about what happened. So I didn't. I just... existed. Invisible and silent."

Buck felt a surge of protective anger, but he kept his voice soft. "That must have been incredibly lonely and scary for you. I'm so sorry you had to go through that, babe."

Tommy's voice trembled, raw emotion seeping through his carefully constructed walls. "For the longest time, I thought I was broken. Like God had made some terrible mistake when He made me."

Buck's heart clenched at the pain in Tommy's words. He cupped Tommy's face gently, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had started to fall.

"Listen to me," Buck said, his voice low and intense. "You are not broken. You are not a mistake. You're beautifully, perfectly you."

Tommy leaned into Buck's touch, his eyes closing as he fought to believe the words. "I know that now, mostly. But back then... it felt like the whole world was telling me I was wrong just for existing."

Buck pulled Tommy closer, wrapping him in a protective embrace. "I wish I could go back and protect that scared kid you were. Tell him that he's worthy of love and acceptance."

Tommy's arms tightened around Buck. "You're doing that now," he whispered. "Every day, you show me what real love and acceptance look like."

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of Tommy's revelation settling around them. Buck pressed a soft kiss to Tommy's forehead, a wordless promise of continued support and unconditional love.

Buck's voice was soft, his eyes meeting Tommy's with warmth. "Can I tell you about my first kiss with a guy?"

Tommy nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. He knew this story, but hearing Buck tell it always filled him with a mix of love and pride.

"It was the softest, most perfect kiss," Buck began, his voice tinged with reverence. "He lifted my chin with his fingers, so gently. When our lips met, everything changed. He rewrote my story."

Buck's hand found Tommy's, squeezing gently. "You rewrote my story, Tommy."

Tommy's eyes glistened with emotion. "I remember," he whispered. "I was so nervous, but you felt so right."

"You were perfect," Buck assured him. "Still are. That moment... it changed everything for me, in the best possible way."

Tommy leaned in, resting his forehead against Buck's. "For me too," he murmured. "You helped me rewrite my story too, you know. Showed me what love should really feel like."

Buck cupped Tommy's face, his thumb gently caressing his cheek. "We rewrote our stories together," he said softly. "And we're still writing, every day."

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - Drunk

Ruben, on his way to pick up a drunk Y/N 😅

Ruben picks reader up after a night out with her friends, and the two of them get into a slight argument.

Enjoy!

"I'm drunk."

"Yeah, I figured."

You didn't have to wait long outside of the club before Ruben's car pulled up. He was there to pick you up just minutes after you hung up the phone.

"Did you circle around the block?"

"Maybe...."

"Ruben."

"What?" He pushed the car to a start and drove away. "I know you would need me as soon as your friends got picked up by their boyfriends. Let's just call it me being one step ahead."

"Yes, but their boyfriends don't drive a prosche with tinted widows and a license plate that says "TREBLE" on it."

Ruben grinned behind the wheel. The one grip he had around the steering wheel, shifting it slowly from side to side, did something to your insides.

"What?"

He caught you staring.

"Nothing."

"No, tell me. Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Well, if you most know...." You paused to hick up. "Fuck."

Ruben laughed.

"It's not funny."

Another hick up. Ruben's laughter increasing.

"Stop it, Ruben, it's not funny."

"It really is. How much did you have to drink tonight?"

"A lot, so slow down the car if you don't want me to ruin it."

Ruben did so with ease. Pressing down on the breaks with his foot, smoothly slowing down the vehicle. "Like that?"

"Much better." Your head fell back against the headrest. A sigh.

"How's Tina?"

"Ugh." You groand at the mentioning of the reason for your troubles.

"What?" Ruben's eyes left the road.

"She's the one that got me this drunk, you know."

"On purpose?" A dent appeared between his brows.

"It's not like you think."

"No? Because it sounds pretty bad."

"Yes, but she knows guys don't hit on me anymore, so she wanted to have a singles girls only moments with me while the other girls—"

"But you're not single." Ruben's eyes had returned to the road. However, the look on his face was still intense.

"No, I'm not single, Ruben." You placed a calming hand on his lap. "But like I said, guys don't hit on me anymore, so Tina saw it as an opportunity for the two of us to enjoy ourselves. Which we did."

"Why don't guys hit on you anymore?"

You sighed at the fact that that seemed to be the only thing that Ruben got out of what you just said.

"Y/N?"

"Huh?" Your thoughts had drifted. Clearly, to Ruben's annoyance.

"Why don't guys hit on you anymore?"

"Well, duh. I have a boyfriend, don't I?" This was half the truth. The truth was that you used to be a bit of a party girl in your younger days. Younger, meaning before you started seeing Ruben. Your favorite go-to place used to be the club you were just at tonight. The Varsity. You and your friends used to go there all the time at university, so much so that you started getting your own reputation amongst your fellow club goers. But that reputation remained only at The Varsity. However, your friends would bring their friends, which included guys looking to party. And soon you had admires from all over Manchester city, coming to find you where you spent most of your nights, on the Varsity dance floor. Luckily, your reputation died out once people found out that you were dating Ruben Dias. Too many people started making preassumtions about you without having met you, which made it harder for you to make friends these days.

"Why do I feel like you're not telling me all there is." Said Ruben, his eyes still pierced on the road.

"Please baby, don't be mad."

"I'm not mad." He said. However, the rest of the ride was spent in silence.

Once you arrived outside of Ruben's flat, he made sure to round the car and hold the door open for you. You had taken your heels off in the car, and so to protect you from stumbling upon something sharp, Ruben had picked you up and carried you inside bridal-style.

"Baby." You blushed. "You can put me down in the elevator, I'm not that drunk."

"Fine." He slid your legs back onto the ground. And for some reason, the way he had done it, with such stiff mannerism, felt just like a punch in the gut.

"Are you hungry? Do you want me to cook you something to eat?"

"No, thank you. I think I'm just gonna hop in the shower and go to bed." You mumbled as the two of you stepped into Ruben's tidy apartment. It was dimly lit at this hour, the city lights twinkling outside of the windows.

"Alright, I'll be right there with you. I just have to prep my meals for tomorrow."

"Okay." You made your way down the hall towards the main bathroom. However, just upon entry, you changed your mind and slid into Ruben's bedroom since the shower inside his joint bathroom had the best water pressure. You decide to wash your hair while you are at it, taking the time to wash away your sins.

It felt like you had done something wrong enjoying a night out with your friends. You understood Ruben's frustration with you being careless with your alcohol consumption, but never did you think he would judge you for that.

"I brought some Gatorade."

"God, Ruben, you scared me."

"Sorry." He chuckled.

You had stumbled out of his bathroom with a towel wrapped around yourself. Ruben was sitting on the edge of his bed, near the nightstand that held a bottle of strawberry Gatorade, along with two white pills.

"For your headache....tomorrow." He said.

"Right...."

You made your way over to his closet, grabbing one of his t-shirts to wear for bed. Your mind was less foggy after your shower, realizing that Ruben bringing you Gatorade was probably his way of wanting to ease the tension between you.

"Thank you." You turned around quite swiftly, in a way that left Ruben raising his brows. "For the Gatorad, I mean. And the pills...for my future headache."

His smile warmed your heart. "If you drink your Gatorade, I bet it won't hit as hard."

"Yes, sir." You saluted and to Ruben's amusement made your way over to the nightstand, grabbing the bottle of Gatorade, however struggling with its lid.

"A little help, please." You handed the bottle over to Ruben, who efortlessly spun open the lid.

"My hero." You said before grabbing the bottle, tilting half of its content into your mouth. It wasn't the classiest thing to burp once you finished, but mind you that you were still a bit tipsy.

"Time for bed?"

Ruben nodded. "After you."

He let you crawl into his bed and under the covers. There, you sat back and watched your boyfriend undress. Ruben draped his shirt over his head, revealing a firm set of washboard abs.

"A strip tease. Just for moi?"

Ruben chuckled, his jaw sharp under the dimly lit room. He turned the lights on completely after dropping his pants, folding the neatly in his closet before joining you in bed.

You clung to him immediately, invading his side of the bed like a real cover hog. You kissed his face, his nose, and then his lips. Ruben's stubble tickled your finger tips, however, you groaned at the fact that he wasn't returning the love back to you.

"Not tonight baby. You need to rest."

Please, I'm not even that drunk." You said, "Besides...." Your hand slipped in between the sheets, revealing Ruben's secret. "I know how much you want me right now."

Ruben grunted with your touch, your hand squeezing his groin, challenging his self control.

"I'd let go if I were you."

Or what?" You said, nipping his lip with your teeth.

"I'm warning you Y/N."

"Yes, warn me before you punish me."

Ruben cock strained against the fabric of his underwear, growing stiff in the palm of your hand.

"Please, Ruben I need you inside of me."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yes." You sighed, your voice high pitched.

"How about I used my hands instead."

"Yes, your hands, your dick. Anything Ruben, just fuck me already."

His large hands joined yours under the covers, slipping under his t-shirt that you wore, resting at each side of your hips. "Are you ready for me, baby?"

"Yes, Ruben I'm—" You screamed. Ruben's hands squeezing your hips, shocked your very core, knowing damn well that that was your worst tickling spot.

"Stop it Ruben, I...can't...breath." You squirmed below him, his laughter dimming your cries for help.

"Ruben!"

There was a tousle of the bed. Not one you originally wish for, but one that left you equally as exhilarated and exhausted. In the end you and Ruben lay on your backs, panting and laughing. Perhaps the way every night out should end from now on.

[incculum]

Miguel's suit malfunctioning and leaving a hole where his ass is and reader being the horny bf he is ends up eating him out before fucking him 🧎🏾‍♂️

Miguel O'Hara.

top male reader

nsfw | a little bit of man-handling | rimming | fingering | spit as lube | semi-public sex

a/n: semi-drabble, semi-oneshot. the original idea is so hot, thank you, anon.

"And I- shit!" Miguel interrupts himself, quickly pressing his hands against his ass. Despite his brief panic, he lets out a brief breath of relief, glad his back isn't facing you and that it was only you with him.

"What's wrong?"

Miguel typically shows himself off to be serious and cold, even with you and especially on missions like this. He isn't the type to lose his composure so easily and without warning.

"Nothing," he answers a little too quickly for you to take it as the truth.

"Nothing? Why are you so stiff?" You step closer to Miguel and he steps back an equal amount. "Seriously?"

"I am serious." Miguel responds, still tense and shoulders pulled back.

You sigh through your nose and turn around. Before Miguel can relax, you turn back and grab him, spinning him around and pushing him chest-first against the ledge surrounding the roof you were on.

His hands still stay pressed against his lower body, determined keep his pride despite the position you had him in. He glared at you, and it would have been intimidating if not for the situation. "What the fuck-"

"Move your hands."

Miguel doesn't waver, and you push him into the wall harder with a push between his shoulder blades, "Move them, so I don't have to."

He drops his head and sighs, glancing at you from over his shoulder. He removes his hands from what he was so adamant on covering, agonizingly slow. Once he's exposed, you stay silent and Miguel doesn't look at you, lightly biting his lip in embarrassment. "..It malfunctioned."

"You really don't wear anything under that suit, huh.." You finally break your silence, brushing over his previous statement, and run your fingers over the exposed part of his ass. You hope Lyla made the smart choice to go offline.

You look back up at his face. Miguel is uncharacteristically quiet, still looking off to the side with the hope that you don't see his face begin to flush. You do, but you don't mention it.

"Let me eat you out, baby," you mutter, rubbing circles into his hips and watching his face.

"Okay," he whispers, half of him hoping you didn't hear it and will let him go with some of his pride still intact, and the other half hoping you will follow through with your words regardless. He glances at your face and knows what the answer is when you grin.

You drop to your knees and waste no time in spreading his ass cheeks. His hole twitches when your breath fans over his skin and his hips jerk forward when you press your tongue flat against his rim. You grip his hip in one hand to keep him still when you push into him and he wants to whine in embarrassment with how easily his greedy hole takes your tongue in. He settles for a groan in the back of his throat when you curl your tongue inside of him. You pull back to gather spit in your mouth and push it inside of his slick hole with your tongue.

Miguel moans lowly when you reach around his hips and inch your fingers toward his still-covered cock, rubbing him through his suit. He grinds against your hand and you let him, indulging yourself in him. You stretch him out with your tongue and he shudders, his claws scrape at the brick in vain when you pull off a glove and slip a finger in alongside your tongue.

"Fuck, just like that.." Miguel mutters, tied between pushing back against your fingers and tongue or grinding forward against your palm. You sense his struggle and push his hips back and forth, forcing him to ride your tongue and, now two, fingers. He groans and lets you guide him, moans raising in volume and cheek pressed against the warm brick.

"Keep... going," Miguel manages to pant out through already-slurring moans. Your tongue and hands feel so perfect and you aren't even thinking of stopping, anyway. You make this clear by lapping at his walls more desperately and putting more pressure on his sensitive cock when he grinds against your hand. You push a third finger in and pull back to finger him with scissoring motions as you look up at his shaking back. "C-close.."

"Go for it, darling," your fingers push against his prostate and Miguel unravels with stuttering moans and stuttering hips. You feel him tighten around your fingers and his cum soaking through his suit onto your palm.

You pull away and stand up while he's panting. You slip your cock out and press your slick lips to his cheek, holding his waist, "my turn."

[naomiarai]

bsf tyun coming over to your place, finals just ended and god, you could use some relaxing time with him. a little talking somehow leads to the topic of “if youve ever received head” now sex talk with taehyun wasn't weird, it just wasnt often and that aspect made it a little awkward. but when you let out a quick “no” at the said question; you think youve never seen taehyun so wide eyed. youve seriously never been eaten out? he asks with pure amusement. all you could let out was another pathetic “no”, this was embarrassing in a way, what if he thinks you're really inexperienced with this kind of shit even though you guys have been friends to the point to even talk about it?

is that weird or something..? you ask, anticipating his answer, no, god no thats not weird, i just couldn't fathom that nobody ever made you feel good like that he says in a rush. wow,, for it to be surprising, oral sex must be the base of even putting a dick inside a pussy you think. but now it intrigues you, how does it feel to have someone's tongue right on your cunt? its definitely strange to imagine but its a thought that comes to mind if youve got someone surprised and only ever had dick inside you.

b..but im curious, i wonder how it feels.., you mumble to yourself, but seeing taehyun turn his head towards you, he heard it too. he pauses for a moment before saying,, i can make that happen, if you want to that is, he says ever so simply like he just didn't ask he if he could eat you out. your heart drops, did you hear that right? did he just blatantly ask if he could possibly eat you out? oh my god. you feel so warm all of a sudden, something along your mind giving you the feeling of saying “yes”.

but what if it ruins your friendship? what if, you gain feelings for him after he gives you head and its never normal again?. over here...wouldn't the bed be more convenient..? you say before you could regret it. taehyun looks at you again, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a genuine grin, so im guessing that's a yes? hm? he asks with a tone of triumph. you look at him with doe eyes,, whispering uh..h yes..

and thats how found yourself here, naked legs spread open, and taehyun in-between them, a tight grip on your thighs to keep you from moving. anticipation fills you as be simply urges you to relax and he'd take care of the rest >< (how is taehyun so calm here idk) you slightly flinch at the feeling of his tongue flat against your hole, the cold feeling sending vibrations down ur spine. his fingers move in circles around ur inner thigh, as he sucks at your clit as he uses his other hand to flick at it. god, its seriously just making you wetter, it felt so fucking good.

a-...ah, dont stop- god you say letting out soft moans, you could feel taehyun smiling at your cunt, really happy huh? your thighs start shaking right as he slips his tongue inside your gaping hole, smoothly rubbing against your walls, edging you so close to your orgasm. i can feel ur close, come for me yeah? he says and its got your pussy throbbing, almost immediately cumming at the end of his sentence.

he looks at you with delight as your chest heaves up and down, recovering from your orgasm. you feel heavenly, gosh was he good ;3 he goes back to lick up the mess u made,,, youll have to do this again, with an excuse that you'd only done it once...

[ghoulsbounty]

Hi hi! I hope you're doing good!!

I have a fic request for all of Walton Goggins characters you write for from your request guidelines as a mini snapshot of each of them. (Length completely up to you)

I was watching The Shield...specifically S5 E3 - Jailbait @ 38:53 👀 where Shane (Walton) is enjoying a sexy time and the way he said "I'm gonna cum" has been swimming in my mind since lmaoo.

How would each of his characters dirty talk and tell their partner they're gonna orgasm (creampie preferably) ? 🥵🥵

Thank you so much for the amazing fics. I'm so happy to read each and every word you've written 🥹

Dirty Talk Headcanon

Summary: Things they say to you when they're about to cum.

Characters: Lee Russell, Wade Felton, Baby Billy Freeman, Boyd Crowder and Cooper Howard/The Ghoul.

Warnings: smut (18+), swearing, creampie, unprotected sex, rough sex, porn without plot, dirty talk, praise kink, cum eating, oral, degradation, control, pet names, multiple orgasms, light dumbification, mirror sex, light nipple play, light sub/dom, possessiveness, cumflation, squirting, slight corruption kink, humiliation, wet & messy, fingering, one small mention of a cheek (face) slap.

Word Count: approx 1k per character

A/N: I enjoyed writing this far too much! I wrote headcanons for dirty talk as a whole (hope that's okay) including orgasms + creampie 🥵Thank you for sending my first headcanon for all the Walton characters I currently write for! I'd love to do more (hint, hint)

Lee Russell - inside or outside the bedroom, he likes to degrade and insult you. will sprinkle in the odd pet name or backhanded praise. his neediness shows when he's about to cum. his favourite thing is the taste of you both together. 

"Didn't I tell you I'd get my hands on you, one way or another?" Lee growled into your ear, his breath hot and ragged. He shoved you further into the rough brick wall of the supply closet, the cold, unforgiving surface scraping painfully against your cheek. Each thrust was forceful, driving you deeper into the corner. Your body responded involuntarily, your cunt clenching tightly around him. The wet, lewd sounds of your bodies colliding echoed through the confined space, mingling with your panting breaths and his guttural moans.

"You slut," he spat, his voice dripping with contempt as he leaned back to gaze at the intimate junction of your bodies. "You're making such a fuckin' mess on my dick. You really have no shame, huh?" His eyes darkened with lust and a twisted sense of satisfaction. Your moans filled the air as his fingers circled your stretched and filled hole, collecting the slick juices there. Without warning, he brought his glistening fingers to your lips and pushed two digits inside, swirling them around your tongue. "Taste good, baby?" he taunted, his gaze never leaving yours, revelling in your submission.

He seized your chin between his wet fingers, pinching slightly as he brought your mouth to his, tasting you deeply. His tongue explored with a hunger that made you shiver. Drawing back, he savoured your essence on his lips, groaning in satisfaction. "Fuckin' delicious, my favourite taste," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. He gave your cheek a light smack, the sound sharp in the confined space, before planting both hands flat against the wall on either side of your head, caging you in. "But it'll be even better with both of us," he promised, his breath warm and heavy on your skin.

He pounded into you with relentless force, hissing into your ear as you tightened around him. "So hungry for me, aren't you?" he growled, his voice a dangerous rumble. His hips snapped with a brutal, unyielding rhythm, each thrust more powerful than the last. A whine escaped his throat when you ground back against him, matching his fast pace with your own desperate movements.

"You can act as angelic as you want out there," he continued, his tone dripping with a mix of lust and dominance, "but with me, you're just begging to be filled, aren't you?" His words sent a shiver down your spine, the truth in them igniting a fire within you. He dropped his hands from the wall and gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he drove into you with unwavering intensity.

You felt yourself nearing the edge once more at his unfaltering pace. The combination of his relentless rhythm and the intoxicating dominance in his voice pushed you closer and closer to the brink. You could feel his breath hot against your ear, his teeth grazing your skin as he leaned in closer.

"Admit it," he demanded, his voice a seductive command. "Admit how much you love this, how much you need me."

When you did, he smiled smugly, his lips curling with sadistic satisfaction. One hand snaked down to your front, fingers dancing teasingly along your mound before circling your throbbing clit. You rutted against his thick digit, desperately seeking the friction. His grin widened against the skin of your shoulder, feeling your muscles quake beneath his touch.

"Let me have it," he murmured, the words sounding almost like a request but carrying the weight of direction. As you reached the peak of your climax, your body gushed around his shaft, your orgasm fierce and overwhelming. He continued to fuck you through it, his thrusts unrelenting, driving you deeper into ecstasy.

He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, whispering against your skin, "Always cum so hard for me, don't you? You filthy whore. Fuck, I love it." His words sent another wave of pleasure crashing through you, your body responding to the combination of his rough thrusts, degrading praise and soft kisses.

Your ass clapped loudly against his thighs as he slammed your limp body back onto his cock, his grip now firm on your hip. His hips stuttered, breath catching in his throat before he thrust into you one final time. White spurts of hot cum painted your walls and spilled from you, a primal groan escaping his lips. "F-fuck, that's it, take everything I'm giving you. Look at this greedy fuckin' cunt," he cursed under his breath, mesmerized by the sight of your mixed fluids dripping down his length.

When he had emptied himself completely inside you, he dropped to his knees, spreading your cheeks apart with his fingers. He dived between your messy folds, licking and sucking at the creamy mixture. His moans vibrated against you as he cleaned you thoroughly, his tongue delving into every crevice, savouring the taste of your combined releases.

Your body trembled, the profound sensation of his mouth working you over, driving you wild. You couldn't help but grind against his face, your movements becoming more desperate as he brought you closer to another peak. His fingers dug into your skin, holding you firmly in place as he continued his relentless assault with his tongue.

The pleasure was overwhelming, building rapidly until you tipped over the edge into another intense orgasm. Your body convulsed, a high-pitched moan escaping your lips as waves of ecstasy crashed through you. He didn't stop, his tongue continuing to lap at you, drawing out every last shudder and twitch of your release.

When you finally came down from the high, your body felt utterly spent and sated. He rose to his feet, his eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and pride as he looked down at you. "Good girl," he murmured, brushing a tender kiss against your forehead. "Now get out."

Wade Felton - more of a sweet talker than a dirty talker. gives lots of praise, and likes reassurance that he's doing things right. sounds desperate when he cums.

"You feel so good, sweetheart," Wade sighed against your neck, his breath warm and heavy as he pressed tender kisses along your skin. Each thrust was slow and deliberate, his movements drawing out every ounce of pleasure. Your thighs were hooked into the crooks of his arms, giving him leverage to push them higher, allowing him to bury his length even deeper inside you.

Your whimpers filled the room, the sound mingling with the soft slap of skin against skin. Your body trembled beneath him, responding to his careful, intoxicating rhythm. His touch was both gentle and strong, his hands gripping your thighs firmly as he moved within you.

"You're taking me so well," he murmured, his voice a low, sensual growl. "Stretching so pretty on my cock. Do you feel good, baby?" His eyes searched yours, filled with a mix of lust and tenderness, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race.

Every movement was deliberate, each thrust designed to heighten your bliss and deepen the connection between you. The room was filled with the scent of your mingled arousal, the air thick with the heat of your passion. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake, his breath hot against your skin.

"Tell me how good it feels," he whispered, his voice vibrating through you. His eyes never left yours, his expression one of adoration and desire. The rhythm of his hips was steady and unyielding, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

When you told him, he smiled against you, his lips brushing your ear. "I love hearing that," he said softly, his pace quickening slightly as he felt you tighten around him. "You have no idea how much."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, amplifying the sensations you felt deep within your core. His thrusts became more insistent, each one driving deeper and harder, pushing you closer to the edge. His hands roamed your body, caressing your skin with in a blend of tenderness and desperation.

"I need you," he groaned, his hips snapping with increasing urgency. "I need you so much. You make me feel so damn good."

Your body responded to his every word and touch, your muscles clenching around him as the pressure built. His name escaped your lips in a desperate plea, your hands clutching at his shoulders, pulling him closer.

You keen under his praise, your walls clenching in response, and his eyes brightened at the sensation of you tightening around him. "Fuck, what did I do to deserve you?" he murmured, a grin spreading across his face as he looked down at you with admiration. When you giggled, his eyes widened, and his hips stuttered as he groaned at the feel of you vibrating around him. Both the sound and feel of your laughter seemed to ignite something within him.

His hips picked up their pace, rutting into you with renewed strength. You trembled around him, your moans filling the space, each one spurring him on. Your hands grasped his forearm for purchase, feeling the strength and solidity of his muscles as he drove into you. The rhythm of his thrusts grew more fervent, each movement fuelled by a mix of passion and desire.

"God, you feel amazing," he groaned, his voice rough with need. The way your body responded to him, the way you took him so well, drove him wild. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with the same vigor as his hips moved against yours.

Your moans were muffled by the kiss, your body arching into his as he continued to thrust into you with relentless precision. Every stroke sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, building toward an inevitable crescendo. The connection between you was electric, each touch and sound amplifying the other's desire.

His forearm, solid and reassuring, flexed under your grasp, the muscles taut as he pressed your thigh almost flat to the mattress. His other hand gripped the headboard above you, knuckles white with the force of his hold. "You're incredible," he breathed against your lips, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. "I can't get enough of you."

"Come for me, darlin'," he begged, his voice a low growl, pace becoming almost frantic. "I need to feel you."

The urgency in his tone, combined with the overwhelming sensations coursing through you, pushed you to the brink. With a final, powerful thrust, you came undone around him, your body convulsing and leaving you breathless. His eyes dropped to your hungry cunt as you creamed around him. The sight of the thick white ring of your release coating his shaft had him pulsing inside you, the visual driving him to the brink. His breath hitched, and his hips stuttered as he struggled to maintain his rhythm.

"Shit, I'm..." he groaned, his voice breaking with the effort. His thrusts became erratic, each one sending shockwaves through your body. The sensation of your walls milking him was too much, and with a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside you with a force that made you cry out. "I'm cumming," he panted desperately. "I'm cumming, baby, oh fuck."

Hot spurts of thick cum filled you, his body shuddering with each release. He held you close, his forehead pressed against yours as he rode out the waves of pleasure. The passion of the moment left both of you breathless and his hands gently caressed your skin, grounding both of you as the aftershocks of your climax slowly faded away.

Baby Billy - heavily into praise and encouragement, but with a filthy mouth. the star of his own show - tell him how he makes you feel and pander to that ego. doesn't like to waste a drop.

"That's it, you ride that dick now," he said, his arms stretched along the back of the couch, eyes locked on you as you bounced above him. Your fingers dug into the shoulders of his expensive suit, desperate for purchase as your pace became increasingly sloppy. The familiar surge of heat spread through your body, signalling the approach of your climax.

Your movements became frantic, grinding down on the thick length that filled you completely. The feeling was overwhelming, and you cried out his name, your voice a sweet blend of desperation and ecstasy. As the waves of your orgasm rolled through you, you threw your head back, lost in the intensity of the moment. His hands gripped your hips, helping you ride out the last tremors of your release, his gaze filled with pride and lust as he watched you fall apart above him.

A sly grin tugged at his lips, at the feel of your cunt trying to milk him. "That's my girl," he murmured, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he watched you soak his lap. "Baby Billy made you feel good on his ol' dick, huh? Go on, you can tell me."

You nodded, eyes glazed and mouth agape as you dropped into the crook of his shoulder. He kissed along your jawline, sending shivers down your spine as your cunt spasmed around him. "That's what I thought, always making you feel good," he murmured, his voice filled with gratification. He secured your arms around his neck, his grip on the flesh of your hips tightening. "Hold on now," he instructed, his tone low and commanding.

With a firm grip, he began to move again, his thrusts deep and deliberate, each one making you gasp as he fucked up into you. You whined against him, your body trembling under his control. He lifted you off his length only to slam you back down to meet him at a relentless pace, his surprising strength and rhythm driving you wild.

Your cries grew louder when he encased one of your nipples in his mouth, his hot tongue flicking over the sensitive bud before sucking hard. The feeling was electric, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. Your fingers tangled in his grey strands, pulling slightly as you sought any anchor in the storm of sensation. He didn't scold you for messing up his perfect style, too engrossed in the act of devouring you with his mouth and body.

The room was filled with the sounds of your shared bliss: his low grunts, your high-pitched moans, the wet slap of your bodies coming together. Each thrust, each suck, each flick of his tongue brought you closer to the edge, your body arching and straining against him as you spiralled toward another orgasm.

His mouth left your nipple with a pop, and he drew you back to look at him with a grin. "You giving me another one? Baby Billy got you all worked up, huh?" He teased, his eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and desire.

His hands roamed your body, caressing and squeezing as he admired the way you trembled above him. The connection between you was electric, every touch and glance charged with passion. He resumed his deep, powerful thrusts, each one hitting just the right spot to send a thrill coursing through you.

"Making me feel good, now," he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl. "Ain't nothin' better than this right here." His words spurred you on, driving you to move faster, to ride him harder. You could feel the tension building again, a tight coil of pleasure ready to snap.

"Come on, angel, I know you've got it in you," he urged, his hands gripping your hips to help guide your movements. The combination of his thrusts and his words pushed you over the edge, and with a cry of ecstasy, you came again, your body clenching and spasming around him.

"That's it," he praised, his voice a low growl as his hips began to stutter. "Oh, here it is," he said, chest heaving as he threw his head back. "I'm cumming, angel, here I cum," he cried, his release following yours as he buried himself deep inside you. He groaned with satisfaction, the sound primal and raw, as he painted your walls with ropes of hot white cum.

The ferocity of his climax made his entire body tense, his grip on your hips tightening as he emptied himself inside you. Each pulse of his release sent shivers down his spine as he stayed buried deep within you, savouring the feeling of your bodies entwined and the warmth spreading between you.

"That's it, sweet girl," he cooed into your ear, his voice shifting from the earlier growl to a tender murmur. The contrast made your heart flutter, the softness of his tone wrapping around you like a warm embrace. You collapsed against him, your body spent and trembling, every muscle relaxed in the aftermath of your intense release.

He pushed you back gently, pulling out with a hiss. "Let Baby Billy see it now," he instructed, and you whined as your cunt gaped, clenching around nothing. His cum leaked out of you, dripping down your thigh and making a mess of his dick. He watched intently, his eyes dark with satisfaction.

Taking two fingers, he ran them up your thigh, collecting the dripping cum before stuffing them back into your cunt to the hilt. "There you go, angel," he murmured, his voice thick with lust as he watched your body react to his touch. His fingers moved inside you with a practiced rhythm, ensuring none of his cum was wasted. "Don't waste a precious drop."

Your body trembled, overwhelmed by the sensation of his fingers filling you again. The rawness of his actions left you breathless. He looked up at you, his grin wide. "That's my good girl," he praised, his other hand caressing your thigh. "You take it all so well."

Boyd Crowder - praise, praise, praise! worships the ground you walk on. possessive (will take out the entirety of harlan county for you.) likes to watch you both together.

"Open your eyes," Boyd whispered, his breath hot on your ear. "I want you to see yourself. Just about the best damn thing I ever laid my eyes on," he cooed, his fingers gripping your thighs harder to urge you. When your eyes fluttered open, your breath caught in your throat.

You saw yourself, spread open and exposed on his lap, your back pressed against his chest as his hands held you open and his cock stuffed you full. The chair he sat on creaked under your combined weight as he adjusted himself, slipping further into you until his balls were pressed snugly against your ass. The sight was intoxicating, your bodies joined so intimately, every inch of him buried inside you.

Your gaze caught his over your shoulder in the rustic, floor-length mirror, and he gave a wicked grin. The reflection showed everything—the way his strong, tattooed arms enveloped you, the way your bodies moved together. His eyes were dark with desire, and the possessive gleam in them made your pulse quicken.

"Look how perfect you are," he murmured, his voice a deep rumble that vibrated through to your core. His hands shifted, one moving to play with your clit while the other kept a firm hold on your thigh, keeping you spread open. The combination of his touch and the sight of your intertwined bodies in the mirror sent waves of desire crashing over you.

"Feel that?" he asked, his tone both teasing and reverent as he pressed deeper, eliciting a moan from you. "That's all me, filling you up, making you mine." His hips began to move again, the rhythm slow and deliberate, each thrust designed to draw out your pleasure and make you feel every inch of him.

The sounds of your shared delight, the creaking of the chair, and the wet, rhythmic slaps of your bodies echoed in the room, creating a symphony of passion. As your eyes met his in the mirror once more, you saw the reflection of two people completely lost in each other, bound by the rawness of the moment.

You placed one hand over his, guiding his movements on your clit, while the other snaked around his neck, fingers tangling in the hair at his nape. He groaned, turning his head to press a hot kiss just below your ear. "Do you like seeing us, baby? Watching yourself come undone on my cock?" He whispered, his voice deep and husky. "Fuck, I love it," he groaned, punctuating each word with a thrust of his hips.

The sensation of his fingers on your clit, combined with the sight of your bodies in the mirror, sent heat burning through you. Your grip tightened in his hair, pulling him closer as his lips trailed along your neck. His breath was hot and ragged against your skin, each thrust driving you both closer to the edge.

"You look so perfect like this," he murmured against your skin, his voice laced with both admiration and need. "Damn, I love being inside of you." His hips moved with a deliberate rhythm, each thrust deep and powerful, making you feel every inch of him. The chair creaked beneath you, adding to the symphony of sounds that filled the room.

Your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, your bliss heightened by the mirror's reflection. His eyes never left yours, the connection between you deepening with every shared glance and touch. "I want you to remember this," he said, his voice a mix of command and desire. "Remember how good we are together. Don't you forget it."

As your climax approached, the pressure of his fingers on your clit and the relentless thrusts of his hips became almost too much to bear. Your breath hitched, your body trembling with the anticipation of release. "Cum for me, baby," he urged, his voice a growl in your ear. "Watch yourself cum all over me." With a final, powerful thrust, he sent you spiralling over the edge. Your body convulsed in his arms, a high-pitched moan escaping your lips as watched yourself fall apart around him.

The feel of you clenching down on him had Boyd panting, and seconds later he was whimpering against your neck. "Damn, I'm close," he said, his voice breaking with desperation as he rutted up into you. The raw need in his voice made your heart race. "You make me feel so good, baby," he continued, his words a mix of admiration and urgency.

Eyes still fixed on the mirror, your head fell back against his shoulder, your body going limp as you surrendered completely to him. Both his hands now gripped your thighs with bruising ferocity, holding you in place as he drove into you with a relentless rhythm. Each thrust was accompanied by the sound of skin slapping against skin, the wet, lewd noises filling the room and burning your cheeks.

"Fuck," he groaned, the word drawn out and guttural. His breath was hot against your ear, his chest heaving with effort. "Damn, baby," he cried, his voice strained and desperate. The feel of his cock swelling inside you, the frantic pace of his hips, and the way his entire body seemed to shudder with impending release all combined to push you further into bliss.

He buried himself deep inside you with a final, powerful thrust, his body convulsing as he came. "Fuck, I'm cumming," he cried out, his voice breaking. You felt the hot spurts of his release filling you, mixing with your own arousal.

As he rode out his orgasm, his hands moved to caress your body, fingers tracing gentle patterns on your skin. He held you close, his forehead resting against the side of your head, both of you trembling from the intensity of the experience. Your eyes met in the mirror, both of you sharing a satisfied smile as he remained buried inside your swollen cunt, keeping his seed there.

The connection between you was palpable, a silent understanding passing between you as you basked in the afterglow. The mirror reflected your entwined bodies, the evidence of your shared passion glistening on your skin. He nuzzled into your neck, pressing soft kisses there, his breath warm and comforting.

"Look at us," he murmured, his voice soft and full of wonder. "So perfect together." His fingers continued to trace lazy patterns along your hips and thighs, each touch grounding you further in the moment.

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul - very possessive. teasing/light degradation. praises you for a job well done. his clothes stay on. loves to fill you until he's spilling out.

"You want another one?" he laughed teasingly, looking down at your fucked-out eyes as you trembled beneath him. "I don't think you have it in you, but you're so desperate," he taunted, his own eyes filled with a mixture of amusement and raw desire.

Cooper's gaze trailed to your cunt where he continued to fuck his load into you, white cum drooling from you as he filled you again and again. The sight of his cum spilling out and mixing with your own juices only seemed to spur him on. He revelled in the intense pleasure of filling you to the brim, knowing that he was overwhelming your senses, his cock and his load too much for you to contain. His thrusts remained deep and relentless, each one pushing more of his seed inside you.

"You’re so greedy for it, aren’t you?" he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "Taking everything I give you." His words shot through to your core, your body trembling and on the edge once more despite your exhaustion. His hands gripped your hips painfully, holding you in place as he drove into you with unwavering ferocity.

His teasing laughter filled the shelter. "Look at you," he said, awe and possession in his voice. "You're a mess. You should be ashamed, letting a man like me do this to you." As he continued to move inside you, the heat built again, your body responding eagerly to his every touch and thrust, ready to give him yet another orgasm.

The lewd sounds of your sloppy pussy echoed through the room as he pounded into you, his grunts and moans joining in as you contracted around him. His hand reached down to your clit, pressing a gloved finger hard against the swollen bud. The rough texture sent shockwaves of ecstasy through you.

Your eyes widened, hips rutting against his own in desperate response. The harsh fabric of his clothed body rubbed against your naked skin, the friction intensifying the heat between you. The sensation was a perfect mix of pleasure and pain, pushing you over the edge as your orgasm tore through you.

Your body convulsed, a high-pitched moan escaping your lips as ecstasy overtook you. The spasms of your cunt squeezing around his dick made him groan loudly, his thrusts becoming even more erratic as he chased his own release. He didn't let up on your clit, the relentless pressure driving you wild.

"Atta girl," he cooed, his voice a gravelly whisper. "Let it all out." Your cries filled the air, your body arching against him as waves of satisfaction crashed over you and he watched as your pussy gaped and gushed around him once more. A primal look flickered in his eyes, and a crooked smile spread across his handsome face as he buried himself deeper inside you. "Gonna keep you full," he promised, his voice a low, possessive growl.

Cooper's thrusts became slow and deliberate, each movement sending jolts of pleasure through your overstimulated body. His hand pressed against your lower abdomen, feeling the slight bulge where he was buried deep inside you. "You take me so well," he murmured, pride and desire burning in his eyes. "A real vision," he sighed, pushing further into you.

He wanted to leave no doubt that you belonged to him, that he could push you to the brink and bring you back again and again. The feeling of being so completely filled, so utterly claimed, sent waves of ecstasy through you.

"Doing good, sweetheart," he said, his voice softening slightly as he leaned in to kiss you. The contrast between his tender words and his rough actions made the moment even more intoxicating. "Gonna keep you full and satisfied," he whispered against your lips, his breath mingling with yours as he worked himself towards his release.

His hand tightened on your hips, ensuring you took every inch of him as he continued to thrust with unrelenting fervour. Your tits bounced with each movement, your mouth hanging open in sheer ecstasy. The sight of your body responding to him, of your cunt clenching and dripping around his dick, drove him to push harder, deeper.

"You gonna take it?" he panted, his thrusts becoming desperate. You nodded, whimpering as you bit down on your lip. "Fuck, take it. Take my cum," he moaned, his voice thick with lust.

His cock pulsed inside you, releasing hot spurts against your walls. The sensation was staggering, the warmth spreading through you as it overflowed, mixing with his previous load and your juices. You felt overstimulated and full, and you watched Cooper as he gazed at the slight bloat of your stomach, his eyes filled with primal satisfaction at the sight of you so thoroughly filled with his cock and seed.

His hand moved to rest on your belly, gently pressing down as if to emphasize the fullness. "Look at you," he murmured, his voice a heady blend of awe and possessiveness. "So full of me."

The combined fluids soaked both of you as they trickled out, creating a slick, messy connection between you. His hands caressed your hips, fingers trailing along your skin, smearing the wetness as he admired the aftermath of you together.

He steadied himself above you, his breaths ragged and uneven. The heat of his body pressed against yours, a thin layer of sweat glistening over your skin. His eyes remained locked on yours, filled with pride.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice softening as he leaned down to kiss you gently. "Completely mine." His hands roamed your body, soothing and comforting as you both came down from the high. 

[writeforfandoms]

Let It Snow

Find my John Price masterlist

This is for @glitterypirateduck winter challenge! I took inspiration from the song Let It Snow, because who wouldn't want to use this man as a source of warmth. Really.

John Price is your neighbor. Just your friendly neighbor. Nothing more.

At least, until the heat in your flat dies.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, sweetness overload, really this is all just cute and fluff.

Word count: 2.5k

You still weren't quite sure how you'd fallen into this thing with John Price. You'd moved in to the flat next to his, the shared wall between the two of you giving you only hints of his life. Mostly, there was silence. 

But sometimes there was the rumbling of a deep, lovely voice. Singing. The muted sounds of a TV. Music. 

The first time you talked to him, you were coming back from a date that had ended badly. You still weren't sure whether to be angry or upset, and had settled on some potent mixture of the two. 

John Price was standing outside, shirtsleeves rolled up past his elbows, heedless of the chill of the evening. He nodded once to you, gaze sweeping over you. 

“Evening,” he greeted, neutral pleasant. 

“Hi.” You managed a smile. “Haven't had the chance to introduce myself yet.” You held out a hand to him, giving him your name. 

“John Price.” He shook your hand, firm but not painful. Quick. 

“Nice to finally meet you.” You glanced beyond him to your door, the temptation to cry rising as upset won over anger. “Hate to run, but…” 

“Of course.” He stepped back, out of the way. “Have a good night.” 

You bit your tongue to keep the bitter words trapped, simply nodding to him before stepping past him. Your hands only shook a little as you unlocked your door and stepped inside. 

You kept your emotions to yourself until you showered, hot as you could stand. Then you allowed yourself some release. 

After that, it became much more common to see him, at least when he was home. You passed him frequently when you came home, and once or twice he rescued you by getting the door when you had bags of groceries. 

The two of you circled each other, pleasant and friendly and not much else. 

Despite his charm, despite his kindness, despite his obvious good looks… you couldn't believe anything more. He was friendly, and that was all. He was neighborly, and that was all. 

Even if he was good-looking. Even if the way he looked at you made you both self-conscious and want to preen. Even if you developed a little crush on him despite your best intentions. 

And you held on to those thoughts all the way up until your heater broke. 

You stood in the middle of your flat, shivering, bundled up in layers and silently cursing the snow outside. And cursing the landlord, who promised he'd get the heater fixed… in a couple days. Three, or maybe four. But you'd be fine, right? 

Which left you seething and debating the merits of buying a space heater, if you could find one. It was late in the season, but maybe you'd be lucky… 

The knock on your door startled you, and you about jumped out of your skin. Who…? Frowning, you stepped forward slowly, hands trembling from the cold and nerves. 

John Price stood outside your door, arms crossed loosely in front of his chest. 

“John?” You blinked at him. “Can I help you?”

“Actually, might be able to help you.” He scratched at the hair on his jaw, brilliant blue eyes holding you captive as easily as breathing. “Heard something ‘bout your heater through the wall.”

You warmed, ducking your head briefly, even though you knew you had nothing to be ashamed of. “Ah. Heard that, huh?” You huffed a little laugh, shaking your head. “Sorry, I forget how thin these walls are sometimes.” 

“Don't fret,” John assured you. “I'd offer to take a crack at your heater but I might make it worse.” 

You smiled, torn between amusement and embarrassment. “It's fine, I think I'll just go find a space heater.” 

John paused, not moving from your doorway, one hand hooked at the collar of his shirt, gaze fixed on you. “Or,” he offered slowly, weighing each word as he spoke. “You can stay at mine.” 

You blinked. Twice. “...Beg pardon?” You must have misunderstood him. There was no way–

“I've got a second bedroom,” he said, shrugging, like it was nothing. Like it was that easy. “You're welcome to it. Be awful cold without heat.” 

You swallowed. That was… a lot. And far too generous. “I couldn't, that's too kind.” 

His lips quirked in a smile, the first real one you'd seen from him. “Yes you can,” he countered. “It's just a few days, yeah? Won't bother me, I wouldn't have offered otherwise.” 

You bit your lip, torn. It would be warmer to stay with him, and cheaper. “Are you sure?” 

“I'm sure.” He even nodded for emphasis, holding your gaze. 

“Okay.” You breathed in slowly. “Thank you, I appreciate it.” 

“Gather up whatever you need,” he said, something pleased in the tilt of his lips. “Just knock when you're ready.” 

“Thanks.” You waited until he stepped back and turned towards his own door to close your door.

Not that it helped at all with the temperature. 

Clenching your jaw and trying not to think about it, you grabbed a bag and some clothes. You weren't going to impose on him any more than necessary - you'd come back to shower and take care of your own things. And you'd be fine at work. 

Your first knock on the door was tentative, almost too soft. You shifted your weight from foot to foot, a little anxious. You knew enough about John Price to trust that he wasn't a crazy murderer, or anything like that. He'd always been friendly. 

You were mostly sure you could trust him. 

The door opened, warmth spilling out over your half-frozen fingers. John had shed his jacket, leaving him in a soft-looking shirt that clung to his chest in ways you tried not to notice. 

“C'mon in.” He stepped out of the way, ushering you in. You couldn't help but shiver as the warmth of his flat cocooned you, your skin tingling where it was exposed. “Bedroom's this way.” 

You followed him quietly, though you couldn't help but look around curiously. The flat was sparse but clean, walls mostly bare. Simple furniture in the main room, very little decoration. 

It felt a little impersonal… except for the book on the couch, the couple dishes in the sink. 

John led you back to the bedroom, nodding you inside. The bed was made up all in pale blue, with an extra blanket folded at the foot of the bed. Honestly, this was better hospitality than you'd gotten from some family members. 

“Thank you, really.” You paused in the doorway, still clutching your bag. 

He smiled again, easy as anything. “My pleasure. Get warmed up, I've got the kettle on.” 

You couldn't help but smile at his retreating back. He was too kind. 

It didn't take long to warm up enough to be comfortable, and you even shed a layer to be more comfortable. “Should I keep my shoes on?” You called from the doorway, uncertain. You couldn't recall if he'd been wearing any. 

“Nah, leave ‘em.” 

You kicked your shoes off but left your socks, padding out to the kitchen to a charmingly domestic scene. John stood with one hip leaned against the counter, mug in one big hand, another steaming gently in front of him. He was also wearing socks, thick gray ones.

“Got milk and sugar, if you'd like.” He nodded to the mug to be clear what he meant. 

“Thanks.” You fixed your cuppa and clutched it between your hands, fingers tingly-hot as they finally fully thawed. “Can I at least treat you to dinner?” 

He tipped his head down a little, smiling. “Won’t say no to that,” he murmured. 

Discussing food was surprisingly easy with him. He seemed happy to go along with whatever you wanted, although true to his word he didn't argue with you about paying. 

The first night passed easily, with bits of conversation between the two of you. You caught him looking at you more than once, something soft in his gaze. Like he couldn't believe you were here.

You warmed under that gentle gaze, the little embers you'd tried to smother in your heart catching and trying to grow. 

Two days passed in the same kind of ease. His flat was bigger than yours, and set up backwards as far as you were concerned. The second time you opened a door expecting the loo and got the linen closet you swore loudly. John just laughed at you, leading to a round of playful bickering. 

(“It's not my fault that this is all backwards!”

“Well perhaps if you looked before you opened the door you'd realize it was on the wrong side.”

“Perhaps if this place was oriented correctly I wouldn't have to.”) 

The two of you got along quite well, better than you'd expected. Better than you'd ever hoped. The ease with which the two of you conversed fanned the little flames secreted in your heart. 

The fourth morning was clear and cold, faint light coming through the window in your room. You dressed, even more glad to be in John's nice warm flat when a perfunctory look out the window showed snow still falling. 

“Morning,” John greeted you, flashing you a smile, hair still a little rumpled from sleep. You tried not to be charmed. 

(It didn't work, you were hopelessly charmed by him.) 

“Good morning.” You couldn't help but smile at the sight of him. “How long have you been up?” 

“Couple hours. Tea?” 

You hummed your assent, though you drifted to the kitchen window to look outside. Snow drifted down in fat flakes, languidly coating the world in white. “How long has it been coming down?”

“Started in the middle of the night.” John pulled out the mug you were beginning to think of as yours. “Don't have to go anywhere today, do you?”

“Fortunately, no.” You shivered at the thought of having to go out in the cold. You kind of hated when it got this cold - the snow was pretty but ice made for treacherous commutes to work. “You?”

“No.” The mug clinked as he set it next to you. “Got everything I need here.” 

You turned, just catching the tail end of his teasing little smile as he stepped back. You blinked at him but didn't push, not quite sure if you wanted to know. 

Tea was perfect to keep you warm, and you settled near John. He shifted enough to press his knee to yours, and you just relaxed into it. 

He'd gotten you used to little touches over the last few days, and you didn't quite want to admit how much you loved it. 

“Care to make a day of it, then?”

You blinked at John, curious. “What do you have in mind?” 

“We could watch that movie you've been wanting to watch.” John's lips twitched in amusement. “More tea. Order in for lunch.” 

“You're going to spoil me,” you teased, although you were only half teasing. 

“Only if I'm doing it right.” He smirked, watching you as you ducked your head, fiddling with your mug. 

“You don't have to, you know.” You looked at him out of the corner of your eye, gripping your mug a little tighter so you wouldn't fidget with it. 

“What if I want to?” He tipped his head a little, watching you, blue eyes intense. 

You warmed under that look but resisted the urge to hide. “Well… that would be a different story.” 

Emboldened by your reaction, John moved closer, his thigh now pressed against the length of yours. “I'd like to spoil you for longer than just the few days it takes to get your heater fixed.” 

“Would you really?” You blinked at him, a little incredulous and a fair bit flattered. 

“I would.” One of his hands landed over yours, big and warm and calloused. “Would you let me?”

You swallowed. Part of you wanted to say yes, wanted to bask in the warmth of him, wanted to give in. But you were scared. There were so many things that could go wrong… 

“I don't know,” you whispered, your fingers curling under John's. “I could try.” 

“That's all I ask.” He leaned a little closer to you, so close he could probably feel the thump of your heart. “Just need to talk to me, hm? Tell me if anything is too much.” 

You nodded, swallowing, eyes wide as he held your gaze. “Okay.” 

“Good.” He backed off again, slowly pushing to his feet. “Go get the movie set up, I've got tea handled.” 

You blinked, feeling almost bereft as he stepped away. But you shook the feeling off, instead going to the couch to set up the movie. 

It only occurred to you long minutes later, when John brought your tea fixed how you liked, that you'd gotten very comfortable here very quickly. But so had John. He'd learned your preferences faster than you'd expected. 

“Warm enough?” He asked, voice a low purr as he settled next to you. 

“Yeah,” you answered, which was mostly true. Your feet were chilly, but that was manageable. 

He eyed you for a moment, and you had the feeling he knew exactly what you didn't say. But he didn't say a word, just grabbed a throw blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over your lap, fussing over you in a way totally foreign to you. 

Foreign… but nice. 

Halfway through the movie John paused it to discuss lunch. You ended up not ordering in - snow was coming down harder now, a thick coating of white obscuring streets and sidewalks. Neither of you wanted to go out, or force anyone else out. 

“We'll find something here,” you said with a shrug, unconcerned. “I've got food at mine, too.” 

John hummed, one arm settling around your waist. “Could do cheese toasties.” 

“Are you offering to cook for me?” You couldn't help your smile, or the way you leaned in closer to him. 

“Can’t make anything fancy,” he murmured, smile small but warm. “But I can do this.” 

That smile finally did you in. You kissed him. Nothing more than a brief press of your lips to his, just enough to feel the warmth and pressure, the gentle scratch of facial hair. He looked a little stunned when you pulled back… for all of two seconds. Before he kissed you again, one big hand cupping your cheek. 

“Is this okay?” He whispered when he pulled back, scant space between the two of you. 

“More than,” you assured him, hands resting against his chest. 

He hummed, the sound vibrating against your hands, and kissed you again. 

If this is what him spoiling you looked like… Well. You could get used to this. 

Even if it kept snowing like this. You weren't worried about being cold anymore.