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#a mix between ‘damn is this all there is’ ‘damn it’s already over?’ ‘damn there’s so much left to do’ and ‘damn im running out of time’
jadedxhearts · 3 days
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"𝐈'𝐦 𝐈𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮"
original ask: "Hi jadedrrose I COMPLETELY LOVE ❤️❤️❤️❤️ the Jealousy and The Experiment you wrote for Law!!!!! They are sooo good and addicting!!!! I was wondering if I can please request Law x female reader NSFW with Dialog Prompt 1. “I’m in love with you.” Thank you"
originally posted on July 25, 2022
Please note that this is an old work and isn't representative of my current writing skills!
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You’d honestly thought you’d never see this day come.
When you had began dating Law, you knew from the start that he would be very closed off at times, and it would take a lot of work to form a bond between the two of you, to trust and love one another.
Not that you doubted him, but you just didn’t expect to get this far. If anything, you doubted yourself.
Today marked the day that you’d been dating Law for a year. Really, you were quite pleased with how the last year had gone. He’d really opened up to you, and you were very happy with him. But he had yet to say those words;
“I love you.” Or something along those lines, at least.
It’s not like you were upset about that, though. Law wasn’t the most affectionate man, preferring to keep all that stuff private and only saying things when he truly meant it and was ready to say so.
So here you were, staring at yourself in the mirror of the women’s bathroom on the submarine (conveniently there were only two women, so you always had plenty of time to get ready).
You’d put on a nice dress, a satin blue one. You figured Law would like it, or at least you hoped he would.
Looking over your makeup one last time, you stepped out of the bathroom and made your way up to the outside part of the submarine.
When you walked out, you noticed that there was a table with two chairs set up, Law sitting in one of the two, some fairy lights, and the guys all bothering Law, it seemed like.
“Tell her that she smells good?” Penguin suggested.
“Or that she’s the prettiest bear around!” Bepo chimed in.
“Bepo, you’re the only one who’s a bear…” Shachi reminded him.
“Oh, that’s right.”
“Enough! You guys are all idiots. No wonder none of you can get a girl to like you,” Law snapped.
The four then looked towards you with wide eyes upon hearing your laughter.
The three crew mates scurried away, leaving you and Law.
“We’re they giving you pointers? As if this was the first date?” You asked, still giggling.
“I guess,” Law answered. “I shouldn’t have asked them for any advice. They know nothing.”
You sat down across from him and smiled at the food laid out before you. A mix of both you and Law’s favorite dishes. Plus some wine.
“Aw, did you set this all up?”
“Most of it, yeah,” Law bashfully replied.
Your heart felt all warm and fuzzy, thinking about all the effort he went to just for you.
After the dinner, Law had taken you back to his room, and now you found yourself laid out on the bed, the skirt part of your dress pushed up as Law had a firm grip on your thighs, holding them apart as he licked at your soaked cunt.
“You taste better than that damn dinner those idiots made us,” Law muttered against you, moving his lips slightly up to suck at your clit.
“Mmm, Law… don’t stop,” you moaned.
“Not even to tell you how good you taste?”
“No!” You whined, pushing him back into your wetness, hands tangled in his hair.
As he continued sucking at your clit, he removed a hand from your plush thighs and began teasing you, touching your folds but not inserting his fingers at all.
“Sh-shit! Just finger me already!”
“Who’s in charge here?” Law asked, tone more stern now.
“You, Law… fuck.”
“That’s what I thought,” he said, a grin on his face as he returned to what he’d been doing, only this time he did put his fingers in you.
His long fingers moved at a fast pace, and the suckling at your now swollen clit was becoming harder and making you feel like you were going to pass out.
“Fuck, Law… I’m gonna cum, fuck. D-don’t stop.”
He tried pushing his fingers in further, not stopping for a second. And when he added a third…
You let out a loud, nearly pornographic moan and let go of his hair to lay back, throwing your arms around your face.
Law pulled away from your pussy, smirking as he pulled your head up and presented his fingers in front of your mouth.
“Suck,” he demanded.
You opened your mouth and let him slide his fingers inside. His eyes never left your lips, watching the way you sucked on and lapped up all the juices on his tattooed fingers.
Once he was satisfied, he pulled his fingers away and moved to get his jeans off. He then sat up against the pillows, motioning for you to come sit on his lap.
“Want you to ride me,” he told you, arms wrapping around you as you hovered over his cock.
He leaned forward and locked lips with you, kissing you passionately as he slid his length inside you. Unable to control your moans, you let out a long one that was muffled by his lips, but you could feel him smirking at the noise.
“That’s right, ride my cock like a good little slut,” he praised you, holding you tight and continuing to kiss you. “Moan into my mouth.”
So you moved your hips faster, and moaned with every thrust. You loved the way he stretched you.
“Shit, I’m already so close,” he muttered against your lips.
“Me too,” you cried. “Law, let me cum again, please- agh.”
He angled his hips and began rubbing circles on your overstimulated clit, telling you to cum on his cock and squeeze him nice and tight.
With another lewd moan, you came for a second time, followed by Law releasing his own cum inside you.
As you pulled away, you could feel your mixed juices spilling out of your cunt and down your thighs, dripping onto Law’s lap.
You collapsed, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him gently, too tired to fully go for his lips.
He held you close, rubbing your back and helping you relax after the intimate session. As he laid there doing so, he couldn’t help but feel… strange. His heart felt full, and the sight of you right now was simply so beautiful to him.
Law knew then, he was ready to say it.
“I’m in love with you,” he blurted out, interrupting the silence.
You blinked, eyes wide and you just couldn’t help but to start smiling from ear to ear.
“You… are?”
“Yes. I’m sorry it took me this long to say it, but I love you, (Name)-ya.”
So you hugged him tighter, this time planting a firm kiss onto his lips. “Don’t apologize. I don’t care if it would’ve taken you thirty years, I’d still be glad and feel the same. I love you too, Law.”
For the first time in a while, he smiled. A genuine smile. Law was glad that you’d been so patient with him. He wouldn’t regret this, loving you. Even if he was worried about losing you, he’d come to realize that it didn’t mean he couldn’t love you.
So, he decided from this moment onward that he’d always make sure to tell you how much he loves you, and to make sure you felt loved forever.
And you couldn’t be happier.
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yawnderu · 7 months
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Sex Pollen — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader
girl dinner since my König sex pollen has over 900 notes♡
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"That's it, love..." Ghost growls out as he pushes your hips up and down slowly, your warm, wet cunt engulfing his thick dick as his hips thrust up to meet you halfway. Your womb is already full of his cum, yet Ghost is unable to stop, each orgasm seemed to just be making his cock harder and his balls tighter. Being all the way inside you felt too damn good.
"So pretty like this, sweet girl... like you were made to take my fuckin' cock all the way inside that tight little cunt." He muttered between clenched teeth, trying his best not to cum inside you yet. For the first time in his life, Ghost was willingly having sex, and oh God, he can't believe he has been missing out on this. His thrusts were slow and deep, making sure to put your pleasure before his, hitting all the right spots with his fat cock.
"Ghost...—" His name being moaned out by you felt like music to his ears, his eyes narrowing slightly as his grip on your hips got tighter, pushing you faster up and down his dick as your tight walls gripped him, a mix of your cream and his cum coating his length, making a ring on the base of it. Though his face was concealed by the balaclava, you can see his expressive eyes focused completely on your face, basking in the pretty faces you make when you're cock-drunk. You already forgot how many orgasms he's pulled out of you, yet it all feels too damn good to ask him to stop, even when your cunt is abused and fucked-out.
"Fuck— angel, let me cum in you." He pleads for your consent, just as he did the last four times he came inside. "Want to fill you up so good, baby, please." Ghost's eyes roll to the back of his head as you give him your approval, groaning and grunting as he begins to thrust harder and deeper into you, his gloved hands pulling your hips all the way down so his cock is completely inside you as his thick, warm cum fills your womb up.
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horrorartsworld · 3 months
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hell’s little maid
alastor/f!reader
warnings: 18+ nsfw content mwhahaha
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You had been recently hired as a maid at none other than…The Hazbin Hotel.
Not that Niffty’s neat-freak tendencies and murderous intent towards bugs wasn’t enough, they just needed the extra hands incase more sinners were willing to stay at this little ray of sunshine on the top of the hill.
Though Hazbin’s Facilities Manger seemed to have the upmost closest eye on you.
It wasn’t that he was suspicious of you, oh no, it was the maid uniform that Charlie had picked out for you. The poor girl must’ve gotten it down by the porn studios because it seemed to fit you in ways that had Alastor barely keeping his usual gentleman like composure.
The way you would bend over in it to pick something up. Tits practically spilling out the top and the skirt would ride up just enough that he would sneak a peak at the back of your thighs and if he was lucky he’d get a glimpse of the delicate fabric of your panties hugging your pretty pussy making him grip his mic tighter to the point his knuckles turned white.
Alastor felt like he could never get away from you in these moments of hot anguish even when he desperately needed to.
“Do you need a cleaning sir~?” Your soft voice startled him as he was deep in thought.
You stood there sweetly infront of him as if you weren’t a sinner at all. Doe eyes shining bright up at him with your feather duster in hand.
“N-no not today my dear….” His voice seemed more huskier than usual making you tilt your head at him curiously.
“Are you alright sir? You seem kind of….flustered”
He clears his throat as his undeniable heat was getting to him, practically hurting in his pants, especially with you being this close and sooo desperate to know what’s going on with him.
“Y-yes now if you’d excuse me…I have something to take care of” He tries to avoid your gaze and your body as he starts to slip away.
“Wait!” Your sudden outburst made you blush as you realized you grabbed his wrist without permission.
Alastor’s body went into overdrive at that moment pushing you up against the nearest wall with much need. Sending surprised gasp to fly out from your lips.
“A-alastor~”
“Shhhh darling…It’s alright I just need to make a few…well adjustments to this uniform of yours…”
One of his long claws coming out to slowly tease at the white ribbon holding your top together. He leaned in closer pressing his body against yours as he swiftly undid it letting your breasts fall out of it. Making a satisfied crackle come from the radio demon as he then looked up at your face to see your cheeks turning pink.
You would’ve never expected him to be like this let alone have this lustful gaze in his eyes for you.
He chuckled seeing how needy you were becoming as he then started to roll one of your nipples between his fingers making you whimper softly.
“Such a pretty girl frrmee~” He purred with a little pop of static in his voice.
Before you know it you’re a crying mess. Delicate hands holding onto his antlers for dear life as he fucks you mercilessly with his face buried in your chest. Feeling his sharp teeth nip at your skin every now in then when you got too loud.
He had looped his arms under your thighs picking you up off the ground as he made it his mission to have the tip of his cock hitting your g-spot at such a delicious angel it had you babbling hyms.
“O-ohhh…alastorrr!~” You squealed feeling your mixed juices drip onto the floor knowing damn well you’ll have to clean that up later.
His thrusts becoming relentless as your pussy clamps down on his cock already seeing how much he needed this. Needed you a mess with him so deep inside you, in that skirt, with it bouncing to the rhythm of your bodies colliding.
His nails started to dig into the plush skin of your thighs once you started to get close to the edge making a low growl admit from Alastor when one more deep thrust was all it took to have you cumming all over him with his name being the only thing rippling out of your throat as your body shutters profusely with your release.
Approaching his own climax you notice his antlers increasing in size as well as his eyes reddening with each thrust in to your now sensitive hole. Teeth snarling as he then bites down on your shoulder causing a little blood to admit from it, his tongue darting out to lap it up before any of it can trickle down.
He buries himself deep inside as he reaches his lengths end and lets you put your feet back on the ground, your legs feeling quite wobbly in which he takes notice giving you his arm to hold onto while you both put yourselves back together. Though your poor top couldn’t be salvaged with it having a large slash down the middle, not noticing Alastor had even done that making you pout, which made the demon chuckle at you then hand you his coat to cover up as he led you to his room to take care of you for the rest of the night.
“You know dear…I did tell Miss Charlie that was an inappropriate uniform…”
꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷
AHHHHHHH FIRST POST DONE!!! I CANT BELIEVE IT, I HOPE YOU ENJOYED 😖😖😖
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anantaru · 7 months
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DAY 1 — SIZE KINK
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kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3
𖧡 — including. — alhaitham, wriothesley
𖧡 — warnings. — fem! reader, size kink, dom/sub dynamics, oral (male! receiving), rough and v messy but also sweet idk, we love big men
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𖧡 — ALHAITHAM
alhaitham's fingers are slow, precise, and it takes no effort for him to place himself in between your thighs— his dick proudly prancing on top of your puffy folds, and he's so unbelievably long and thick, swollen and red, dripping at the tip when he expertly rubs his cock against your hole.
yet, it almost hurts when he lets you swallow the first inch inside— but you wanted him, longed for him this entire day, raw and needy awaiting him late at night, biding your time until his dripping cock was fully engulfed inside of you. "oh, fuck!" rolling your eyes, you wrest your body off the mattress, strongly against alhaitham's chest as he braces himself with one arm against the head board.
"hurts? i’ll stop." he asks in a whisper to make sure, his gaze softening upon admiring your changing mannerism and on how good you were taking him despite the troubles of his cock being too large for his own good. his length was already half way concealed in your warm pussy— and he shivers on top of you, the slick, wet sounds fueling his desire until he was eager to expose more to you, pushing a defeated sigh past his parted lips the moment you clench down on him.
"n-no..." your breath rattles in your chest, a need frantically building in your belly as you wrap your arms around his neck to pull your boyfriend, your eminently affectionate alhaitham, against your lips, "y-you can move now...." and with his body swiftly reacting upon accepting the softness of your voice and body, the man began to move his hips— although slow, his thrusts leaving no possible room for any breaks in between.
you moan out little noises and mewls with your body rippling back and forth the mattress at his harsh blows, your tits bouncing in tandem with the way he fucked and pleased you, your skin shivering wild and free, and you kiss him desperately, hastily breathing through your nose as you add your tongue into the mix.
all day, you wanted this so badly, and so did alhaitham, his heart thudding in his chest with a frenzied intensity— feeling like he was currently underwater, the passion and euphoric drill roaring through his limbs and muscles as he fucks into you, again and again, husky groans deep in his chest, rumbling, only waiting to be heard by you.
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𖧡 — WRIOTHESLEY
fundamentally speaking, wriothesley knew his way around your body, and he had already carved every spot and curve of your skin inside his very psyche, so he could be sure of it and day dream about your bare skin on top of him, yet also so he wouldn't have to worry about you not enjoying it.
and now— with your frame pressed in between his body and the desk behind you, his large palms silently move to curve around your face when you slowly fall on your knees, and you could see it in your boyfriend's brilliant eyes, the way he wasn't sure if he should let you take him in your mouth, just like that— because you see, he was big, remarkably so, and the last thing he wanted to achieve was to make it an unpleasant experience for his enchanting darling.
yet there he was, with desire flaring and expanding in his stomach at all the visible bare skin under him as you leisurely stroke your hands over his thighs, your tits being exposed with your nipples erected, fuck, he couldn't wait to touch them afterwards and have them in his mouth.
his heavy muscles were parading under the delicate shade of light, whereas his cock was now tightly closed in between your warm palm fisting him— his length standing thick and proud, so damn erected and aching that it was almost side by side to his defined stomach.
"sweetheart.. you sure?" wriothesley coos down at you, his voice cracking when you teasingly rub his leaking tip against your pouty lips, the featherlight weight of your mouth encircling him in such way was definitely the most marvellous touch he had ever felt.
"i'm sure." you assure him sweetly, kissing the tip, and add, "relax, baby.. i will take care of you." with your voice gentle alike, soft, as you caught onto the twinkle of desperation in his eyes.
you assemble enough saliva in your mouth before opening up, and a hand covers the back of your head as to guide you. you split your lips apart to take him in your mouth— and granted, it's a little scary, you have to admit, he's barely half way in and you can feel a pinching burn on the split sides of your mouth, taking a deep, shuddering breath as you circle your tongue around his shaft to have more slickness added.
"slow.." wriothesley whispers and moans at the same time, fondly scratching the back of your head to signalize you that it was okay, his eyes warm with a smirk prancing on top of his lips.
"slower sweetheart.. take your time."  
with his cock being buried in your mouth, although not entirely, wriothesley was able to trace the insides of your mouth with a thoroughness that it had him moan shamelessly above you— and you were quick to catch on to it as well, adding more tongue, making a mess out of him, placing a hand right under his balls so you could cup them all nicely and play with them while taking your sweet time, one inch more, hollowing your cheeks before taking another;
just how your boyfriend liked it, envisioned it, craved it.
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©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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angelltheninth · 3 months
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Daily Dose of Vitamin D
Pairing: Zayne x Fem!Rader
Tags: nsfw, smut, blowjob, morning sex, throatfucking, cum swallowing, praise
Word count: 0.5k
A/N: For those of you with vitamin D deficiency.
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As one of the best doctors around you took Zayne's word as gospel when it came to your health. He would never steer you wrong, he deeply loves and cares about you like the caring and smart boyfriend that he is. Right? Yes. But... this... you knew this wasn't the way to get vitamin D. Yet Zayne insisted that it was a new method that he came up with and wanted to do a little experiment to see if it really worked.
It was a stupid excuse. "Zayne, for such a smart man, you sure do come up with the silliest of lies."
"And yet you're opening your mouth." Why, yes you were because you were looking for an excuse. His big tip pushed your lips open, guiding the throbbing length into your mouth, down your wanting throat. "You'll have your fill. I'll make sure of it."
You choked out a "Yes," around his cock an tilted your head back so he could push his balls against your chin, completely trap you between his legs. With nowhere to move your head you were at his disposal, his to use. Zayne's eyes softened for a moment when he looked at you, your pupils blown out and lips so tightly sealed around him.
They made the perfect slippery ring, so soft.
He moved back then slowly back in, relishing in your dawn out groan. Your hands pressed into his hips, tapping your fingers and letting him know he doesn't have to take it slow.
"A perfect test subject. So willing get a throat full of my cum. Aren't you lucky to be my girl? My good girl." Zayne rose on his knees then roughly back down, making your eyes water at the rough intrusion. He moved up and down, almost riding your face, your moans barely choked out, mixing with wet gurgling sounds and the sounds of his balls smacking against your chin.
You couldn't let him do all the work. You were never one to be lazy for him. As his cock pushed in and out you circled your tongue around the tip, making it twitch, his cock getting hotter, salty cum dripping from the tip.
Zayne pressed his hands on the wall, his biceps flexing, relaxing, his hair falling over his face as his cold expression began to crack into that of pleasure. Seeing his pulling his lip between his teeth and saying your name in that low tone made you suck him even harder, and you made damn sure he both heard and felt it.
What you felt moments later was his warm, gooey cum flooding your taste buds, being fucked deep down your throat. Thick webs of it connected his cock and your lips, his cock still twitching and shooting little drops across your mouth, cheeks and breasts.
"I feel even more tired. Your experiment failed." You commented with a cheeky smile as you kissed his cock. Zayne slicked his hair back, easy with the sweat on his forehead, which made him look more handsome then he already was. "Do over?"
"In a few minutes." Not even he could get hard again instantly. "Let me write this down first. We need to have notes to compare." Of course, this was an experiment after all.
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jongseongsnudes · 4 months
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all yours
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ex-fwb!jake. 1.9k words. toxxxxxxic smut.
“can we fuck?”
“can we what now?”
“please,” he responds a little too quickly over the phone, desperation lacing his tone, “i need you.”
not even ten minutes later, and the man is standing at your front door. he’s dressed in his usual tee and sweatpants combo, something so simple yet so ridiculously breath taking on him. he topped it all off with a black cap, the thing covering most of his face as if wanting to be lowkey. as if not wanting anyone to know he was here at yours.
before you could greet him or ask what the hell he was doing here, the man moves at lightning speed, closing the gap between your bodies. his hands are already at your neck, holding you in place as he smashes his lips onto yours.
the last time you saw him was three weeks ago, when he ended the friends with benefits arrangements with you, saying he wanted to explore things with a super hot girl he met. and you hadn’t spoken to him since.
so the last thing you expected tonight was for him to call you at 1am, let alone be at your apartment... kissing you.
he slightly pushes forward, welcoming himself into your home and closing the door behind him with his foot. your back is quickly met with the hallway wall with his body now pressed firmly against you, cornering you in.
the man kisses you, hard, like his life depended on it. there were times when jake was rough, usually when he was stressed out but this, this was something else. like he was so desperate for you.
and this drove you crazy.
but no matter how in the moment you were feeling, the fact that this man was supposedly pursuing or even with another girl, kept ringing in the back of your head. knowing jake and his fuckboy ways, the man could very much be in a messy situation and the last thing you wanted was add yourself into the mix.
it takes every bit of you to pull your lips away from his, only slightly, but your gazes remain on each other in the dimly lit hallway. it’s now that you realise the waft of alcohol coming from the man, like he’d been drinking before coming here.
“you’ve been drinking. don’t tell me you were stupid enough to drive here.”
“a beer, don’t worry. i just really wanted to see you.”
“i’ve told you so many times, don’t drink and drive,” you sigh your words and push him off of you, leaving him be in the hallway as you walk into the kitchen, the man quickly following behind.
“why are you even here? does that girl of yours know?”
“we fought,” he begins, fingers threading his hair as he approaches you, “she’s a headache already and she’s not even my girlfriend.”
“so you’re only here because you guys fought and you’re not getting ass?” a little chuckle spills from your lips as you turn to look at him, amused at all the audacity. “wow. you sure know how to make me feel special jake.”
apart of you was hoping that he’d tell you different, that he’d show up tonight and tell you that he was no longer seeing her. you know it’s crazy but you’ve never liked sharing jake so you were glad when things ended when they did...
because you were getting way too close to that thin line between fucking and everything thereafter.
“look i’m tired, i’m sure you have plenty of others to hit up tonight,” you say with a yawn and pat his chest, “shut the door on your way out-”
you’re only able to take two steps before his hand is on your arm, pulling you right back to him. and before you could even complain, the man lifts you up onto the countertop by the waist, his body immediately settling in between your dangling legs to stop you from moving away.
the smell of his cologne, once so familiar to you, immediately heightens all of your senses. it’s one you’ve become so used to, one you’ve come to loved so much after spending countless nights with him.
but that was the past, he was with someone else now.
“jake. we can’t do this.”
“we can baby, who’s stopping us?”
that god damn petname, the one he always uses when he wanted something. and every single time, you’d give in, giving him just about everything he wanted.
and judging by how your body is reacting, you know you’re about to do the exact same thing this time too.
give in to jake sim.
sensing your lack of response, the man leans in, his face now in the crook of your neck. he kisses you gently, his soft lips leaving a trail down the side of your neck where he knew you were the most sensitive.
the man knew so much about you. where to hold, where to touch, where to kiss to get your body burning and yearning for him. you hated this, hated how easily he could have you wrapped around his finger without doing much.
you struggle a bit but successfully push him off, your hands now at his chest to stop him from kissing you. his half lidded gaze immediately has you pooling in your panties, a reminder how he used to look at you every time he wanted you.
“you know you shouldn’t be here,” you whisper, your words more so for yourself than him, “you’re with someone now.”
“baby. you know she means nothing to me, no one can replace you.”
he doesn’t give you the time to respond, instead swooping in to kiss you again. his lips feel so unbelievably soft against yours, just like how you remembered the first time he kissed you. months ago yet feels like it just happened yesterday, kissing him at that random party and letting him fuck you right there and then in the upstairs bedroom.
jake always had this effect on you, even now.
“i only ever want you, you know that right?” his hands are already at the ends of your night gown, pulling the thin piece of material higher and higher up on your thighs as he continues kissing you, “you’re so pretty. the prettiest.”
you’re no longer fighting him, your mind too focused on his fingers that are now drawing circles in your inner thigh. he’s just so close to where you needed him most, your poor core already throbbing at the mere thought of him being inside of you.
you’ve missed him so much that just him being here excited you, more so than any other man have in the past few weeks.
“you’ll let me fuck you right baby?”
you don’t bother replying and wrap your arms around his neck instead, pulling the man in to kiss him. you’d be lying, especially to yourself, if you said you didn’t want this.
a shiver runs through your body as he hastily rips your panties off in one go, leaving your core so bare and ready for him to fill. it’s not long before the man is also bare, his throbbing erection already oozing of precum that he’s rubbing against your thighs, desperately humping you.
“this pussy... is mine,” he pushes into you without warning, without hesitation, immediately filling you to the very brim. he’s already so deep, stretching every part of you along the way but he doesn’t care and at this point, neither do you.
it’s uncomfortable at first, your tightness attempting to take as much of him as possible. to say he was big, was quite the understatement, something you’ve learned right from the start. it always surprised you how he could fit it all in of you, even without the foreplay.
but then again, he did always have you so wet and prepared for him, always so eager to take him no matter what.
“you’re mine. all mine. right?”
“yours jake, all yours.”
you’re too caught up in the moment, throwing your head back without thinking much besides how good it felt to have jake sim fucking you. every word, every kiss, every thrust is already bringing you closer and closer to your release. it’s obvious you’ve been so desperate for him, so needy with the way you’re already moaning his name.
words become foreign to you, the only thing on your lips are sounds you didn’t even know were possible to make.
so whiny, so pathetic, so sinful.
and all for jake sim.
you watch through blurred vision as he lays his head into the crook of your neck, his grip gradually tightening more with every one of his thrusts. he kisses your neck again, even going as far as sucking on a particular spot he knew would have your head spinning.
but just as much as he knew you, you knew him as well. and judging by his current stance, you were sure he was about to finish. his angling, his deep grunts, his grip on your body, all signs that the man was desperate to reach his end.
and luckily for you, the same feeling was finally approaching. that familiar knot in the pit of your core that is screaming to be released. you claw at him then, fingers tangled in his hair, his black cap long gone.
it’s not often that you guys finish together but when it does happen, you always feel as though you’re floating on cloud nine. your entire body feels as light as air, like nothing else mattered in that moment but you and him, your bodies completely entangled together.
just like right now.
his name is the only thing on your lips as you reach your peak, your juices mixing with his hot spurts of cum that was already leaking out onto your thighs. your nightgown, his hair, the cum on your thighs, all so messy just like the mess you just got yourself in for letting jake sim into your apartment tonight.
“fuck- that was crazy,” he runs his fingers through his hair, fixing all the strands sticking out from you pulling on it earlier. the man slowly pulls out of you, leaving you to gasp at the sudden empty feeling and of course... of the cum that is continuing to spill out of you.
*ding*
*ding*
*ding*
your brows immediately raise at how quick he reached for his phone from the countertop, as if to prevent you from seeing the new messages. it’s a no brainer who the sender was based off the smirk on his face but apart of you still held onto the small chance that it wasn’t.
that it wasn’t her, calling for him to come back.
“hey uh- i gotta run.”
sigh. of course.
“uh- the boys are looking for me,” he explains without even looking at you, the man too busy wiping himself off before getting dressed. all done so at record speed. “see you around pretty.”
you had barely gotten off the countertop but the man was already off on his way, disappearing out of your apartment just as fast as he had appeared. even leaving behind his favourite cap on your kitchen floor.
there was nothing for you to do besides laugh, laugh at being fucked over by the one man you said you’d stay away from. you weren’t stupid, you just had a weak spot for him and he knew this very well.
but this was it. if he wanted to play, so were you.
and it was all going to happen tomorrow night at your friend’s party, where you were certain both jake and his new girl would be at.
to be continued.
2024 © jongseongsnudes on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.  
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stxrslut · 27 days
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i blame you and this 🤭 i tried to write this properly, but i just couldn't get the words down right so now i’m in your inbox 💗</3
imagine you had finally gotten to sleep — laying on the sofa or in bed, the tv on quietly as rafe keeps on checking in on you…
and then barry calls rafe, making his phone go off really damn loud waking you up 🙄. he’d be so angry.
wrote this a tiny bit differently but it’s still pretty much the same (??) idk if you hate it I’ll write it again lol
when barry comes crashing into the house, Rafe wants to hit him. you had just gotten to sleep, curled up in a ball of blankets on the couch with your favourite show playing quietly in the background.
“ay country club, you home? jeez why you got the lights off in ‘ere” as he says it he flicks the lights on. this agitates you enough to wake you up.
you let out a pained cry, looking up to see Barry standing there looking like a guilty child. you can’t even bring yourself to speak to him, you just let out a mix between a sob and a shout. “Rafe!”
your boyfriend is there within the second, rushing over to you and putting a hand over your eyes to block the light. “shit, Barry turn the fuckin’ light off!”
the shorter man rushes to fumble with the switches on the wall, returning the lights to their original state. but the damage is already done, you’re sobbing into your blanket, rafe’s hand on your back.
your head hurts, your eyes feel like they’re being stabbed, your stomach feels like it’s doing backflips. everything sucks and in rafe’s eyes, it’s all Barry’s fault.
his first priority is to tend to you, so he brushes Barry off as he walks round the sofa to crouch right infront of you. “hey, hey sweetie, you’re okay.”
your boyfriends hand brushes your cheek, “can you look here for a sec,” he emphasises by turning your head in his direction.
you sniffle and look at him, nose red and tears staining your cheeks. he puts a hand on your forehead to feel the temperature, and tsks when he does. “hi sweetheart.”
he doesn’t push for a reply, he just stands and gets your water bottle, making you take a sip. then he tucks you back in. he picks up the plastic sick bowl you’d been keeping with you, “use that if you need to okay? m’gonna go talk to Barry for a sec…”
he gives you one last kiss on the forehead before he leaves, pushing Barry out of the room unceremoniously.
you never saw the dealer when you were having a migraine, ever again.
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charliemwrites · 5 months
Text
Part 3 of obsessed Johnny
(Part 2 is here.)
CW for extremely dubious consent.. or this might actually be coerced consent? Is there a difference? Anyway, be safe!
There’s a few things you learn quickly. If you ask nicely, present things just right, Johnny will give you just about anything. Any foods, any drinks. He movies a huge flatscreen into your room and makes it so you can watch damn near anything with streaming.
“I just want to let everyone know I’m okay. You can read the message yourself before I send it! But the police will come looking if I don’t tell people I’m alright.”
So he cuddles up next to your shoulder and reads as you make up lies to family and friends and professors that you’re fine, but you’re very stressed and need space. That you’re taking some time to “work on yourself.” Johnny takes your phone away again when it’s done and apologizes again when you cry about it.
There are things you don’t ask for either, that he brings you. A squishy pillow in the shape of a bunny. A bunch of fidget toys. Soft thigh high socks for the cold room and cotton shirts that stretch down nearly to your knees. Not a lot of pants.
When you carefully ask why, he blushes and tells you that you look cuter without them. Still, you have a couple pairs of fleece joggers that mysteriously disappear sometimes.
Then there’s…. well there’s this.
“I’m making it up to you, angel,” he breathes against your bare thigh. “I’m sorry I’ve been so mean. But I promise it’s all for you, I’ll show you.”
You’re trembling, trying to think of a good way to tell him to stop that won’t upset him. Hard to do that when he’s prying his way so gently between your legs, tonguing at your cotton panties.
“It’s alright, I won’t take anything, Bonnie. Going to give you everything,” he whispers. “It’s not for me. All for you to feel good.”
He rips through the lace on the side with his teeth and tugs it away to bear you. He groans, eyes going moony.
“Gorgeous girl,” he moans, laying kisses all over. “Such a pretty kitty. Knew you would be.”
“W-wait, wait, soap,” you finally force out. But he’s far, far too gone now. His eyes don’t even flicker away from your pussy.
“Don’t get shy on me now, hen.” He loops one of your legs over his shoulder, stroking the outside of your thigh. “Nothing to be shy about.”
Your stomach clenches as his mouth drops open, hot air across your sensitive core. His mouth is already shiny. He finally, finally pries his eyes from your cunt, looking up at you through thick lashes.
“Let me, baby,” he begs. “Say I can, say I’m allowed to make you feel good. You deserve it, let me make this up to you.”
At this point, you don’t think he’d listen if you didn’t give permission so you just nod.
“S-slow, soap. Please?”
“Anything for you,” he promises. “Anything… anything…”
He kisses your pussy like a lover leaving his beloved. Aching, slow, devoted. His tongue grinding against your clit, licking at your entrance. He moans at the taste of you, eyes rolling back in his head.
You try to lay still, to be quiet, to just... let it happen to you. But Christ, he feels so good. Luxuriant. There’s no resisting the way he sucks so softly at your clit, tongue rolling over and over that little bundle of nerves.
You’re soaking, you can feel it running down onto the bed. He swipes the flat of his tongue through you slit, picks his head up enough for you to see the thick, glistening string of saliva and slick connecting him to your cunt.
You press a hand to your mouth as your hips buck, muffling the noise you make into you palm.
“No, no,” he whimpers, “how am I supposed to know I’m taking care of you? Please, baby, let me hear you. I know I’m never gonna hear heaven’s choir so you’re the closest I’ve got.”
He dives down with renewed vigor, sloppy noises mixing with his grunts and moans. He’s writhing his own hips into the bed, getting off on the taste of you alone. You’ve lost control of your voice - and your hands. They’re tangled up in his mohawk, guiding him to tongue fuck you just right.
You don’t know what does it? What sets you off. Only that it’s all too much all at once and you’re tipping over the edge before you can think about what it means when you do. You clench down on his tongue, ride his mouth as wave after wave curves your back off the mattress.
When you can breathe again, his cheek is lying on your thigh, a dopey, cum-drink grin on his messy face.
“So pretty when you cum,” he sighs, lashes fluttering. There’s a wet spot against your calf; he came when you did. Just… just from…
“Can’t wait to give you another.”
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toruslvt · 2 months
Note
i absolutely need 69 with gojo, with fem!reader on top
mdni. cunilingus, very mild face fucking, dirty talking im not sorry, praising: good girl, princess, baby.
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“aw, baby” Satoru slurs the last word, dragging the syllables to make his voice tone a tad more playful knowing damn well that would only make you squirm . “you’re dripping like crazy, are you really that horny from sucking my cock?” he mutters before whistling softly, thumbs spreading your glistening folds to watch how drops of slick trail from your hole, to your clit and onto his chest.
you should know better than to trust your boyfriend in such situation; moaning brokenly at the cool breeze against your heated core before attempting to rise and talk back to Satoru, only to be met with a buck of his hips, forcing more of his hard cock into your mouth.
“so needy too” he grins, loving the surprised muffled sound coming from your throat, “you should watch yourself, this pretty cunt is drooling all for me” it comes as a deep growl, latching his lips around your clit before you get to protest, still spreading your cheeks apart so your slick dribbles from his nose and jaw, messily joining his saliva and allowing the lewd sound to resonate around the room.
“s’fucking good” Satoru hums against your pussy, eating you out like the starved man he naturally is, all while his hips rhythmically buck up into the warmth of your mouth.
he’s left almost brainless at your taste, the lewd sounds you make enough to spur him into almost face fucking into you, hips messily bucking up with each muffled sound of approval that die on his throat at the glide of his tongue up and down your slit, his own cock pulsing inside your mouth, positively drooling precum directly onto your tongue flat on the underside of him.
Satoru is quite the talkative man, much worse during sex but the mixed pleasure of your mouth and pretty cunt wrapped around his tongue is enough for all coherent thoughts to leave his brain, solely focusing on babbling contently with each slurp and suck on your hole, thumb joining the sticky mess to rub on your neglected clit.
“good girl, good fucking girl” he huffs, pulling back to catch his breathing while continuously pressing kisses on your messy cunt, his body reactions going in sync with your own, every bob of your head is meet with his own tongue swiping across your clit, wishing nothing but to fuck his cock a bit deeper inside your mouth.
a specially hard suck on your clit and fingers tracing the twitching contour of your pussy are enough for you to pull his cock out of your mouth with a loud pop, eyes rolling back and cheek pressed against his throbbing length.
“you fucked dumb already?” Satoru chuckles, raising a bit to watch your messy expression, lips and chin glistening with a mixture of saliva and precum, making his cock twitch and slightly tap against your cheek.
he knows you’re close, the way your hips began to hump back against your boyfriend’s tongue was enough proof, “c’mon, princess, just the tip, yeah? you can do that dont’cha?” cooing you into suckling on the tip of his cock while he drove you over the edge, and who are you to comply when Satoru makes you feel so good, quickly popping the tip between your lips with high pitched whimpers vibrating on the flushed sensitive skin.
you’re not certain who came first, thick ropes of cum exploding inside your mouth as you choked with a sob, cumming all over Satoru’s tongue and fingers grazing the messy lips of your pussy.
“yeah, good girl, make a mess all over me” he mutters while you squirm, “now roll over, baby, i’m not done with you”
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thewordypeach · 1 year
Text
Milk
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Milk (Cream)
pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader word count: 3.3k warnings: 18+, NSFW!!!!, smut! smut! smut!, no use of y/n, unprotected p in v = creampie, fingering, slight orgasm count, oral fixation??, titty sucking (lactation kink), fingering, implied breeding kink?!? summary: Joel doesn’t have to worry about getting you pregnant because the damage is already done. author's note: i should be studying for my finals next week but joel miller sucking titties is obviously more important, and i just couldn't help myself! i just had to write it!!! the result? it's hot. maybe too hot - can you handle it? i know i couldn't. xoxo the wordy peach <3
“Only nine weeks left!” Ellie says excitedly, peering at your protruding stomach with wide eyes of wonderment. She can’t wait to meet her little sister or brother, and each week since announcing your pregnancy, Ellie crosses off a week in her little calendar. 
Fondly, you smile at her. She’s been your saving grace during this pregnancy - distracting you with every question possible. She even managed to get it out of you when you and Joel convinced the damn thing (“It was that night at the stables, wasn’t it?”)
“Nine weeks,” She repeats with a confident nod; she glances at you, a single eyebrow raised, “Have you looked at the list of names I gave you?”
You let out a chuckle, nodding, “Yes, Ellie - I look at it every night,”
Her eyes widen, “Every night?”
“Every damn night,” Joel grumbles as he walks into the room. He’s exhausted from the extra shifts he’s been putting in because he wants time off for the baby. With tired, bleary eyes, Joel looks at Ellie, “Shouldn’t you be at school?”
She glares at him, points directly at your belly, and speaks with conviction, “Well, technically, I am in health class, and if I have to learn about procreation, Joel, I want her to teach me,"
Exasperated, Joel sighs. He shakes his head with frustration, and briefly, you can see the hint of annoyance on his tired face. He looks at Ellie with his eyebrows knitted together - she knows better than to argue with him. She purses her lips into a thin line and begins gathering school supplies. Ellie ignores Joel and starts idly chatting about her day and her plans.
She’s looking forward to the new reading assignment and asking if you’ll help her later with something. You rub your belly and nod, “Of course, Ellie - you know where I’ll be,”
A flicker of concern mixed with panic crosses her face. She glances at you; you know she’s asking if you’ll really be here when she returns. Ellie confirms, a slight wavering in her voice, “You’ll be here, right?” 
You feel a pang of empathy for her. The world you live in is uncertain - even here, in Jackson, there’s no guarantee of safety. You understand her fear, and reassuringly, you tell her, “Yes, Ellie - I’ll be home all day,”
She nods, and her shoulder’s visibly relax at your confirmation. But before leaving, Ellie just has to turn to Joel and says, “She isn’t feeling good today, so don’t be a dick - or else I will know, and you’ll have to deal with me,” 
As Joel sips his water, Ellie shoots him a stern look. Despite what your partner likes to think, you both know Ellie is in charge. Her gaze holds a silent warning, and you stifle a chuckle, watching as she finally leaves the house. Once the door is closed, silence falls between you and Joel. It’s tense; his eyes penetrate you, noting your skin's paleness and its sickly sheen of sweat. Usually you’re glowing -
“What’s wrong?” Joel asks in that demanding tone of his. 
You sigh, shaking your head, “It’s nothing,”
“Babe,” Joel warns, and you hear him shuffling over before the chair next to you pulls out, and he’s sitting there. He places a hand on your thigh and repeats his question more gently this time. 
“I’m…” You think about the right words, carefully selecting them, “Uncomfortable,”
Confessing this to your partner is almost embarrassing. Maybe it’s his rough exterior that makes you feel like this. Joel, who is waiting patiently, peers at you. His eyes soften, and he looks at you with such tenderness. You’ve been missing these moments because he’s never home anymore. 
He presses, “C’mon, darlin'… tell me what’s wrong,”
Your cheeks flush pink, and after a minute or two, you admit: “My boobs hurt,”
Joel gives you an incredulous look, and his cheeks blush too. His gaze turns to your breasts - even he can’t deny how much they’ve grown in the past few weeks. Joel knows they’re swollen with milk for the incoming baby, but he doesn’t understand how uncomfortable you are. He probably never will because, biologically, he’s a man.
He watches as you reach up, adjusting your tits, groaning out a slew of complaints: “My nipples are so fucking sensitive and hard all the goddamn time! I feel like I’m in that stupid Austin Power movie with the fembots and their machine gun titties,” Joel knows the movie you are referring to, and he can’t help but chuckle and hearing this makes your eyes narrow at him. 
“Are you seriously fucking laughing at me, Joel?” Your voice is emotional, and you attempt to stand, but it’s useless. Your stupid round belly makes it impossible to do anything, and sadness floods your hormonal body. You whine, “I am so fat -”
Joel shakes his head, watching as your face goes through several emotions simultaneously. There’s not much he can do, but he does reassure you that you are not fat - “You are pregnant,”
“Yeah, and whose fault is that?” You grumble, arms crossing over your chest. You wince because you’re nipples feel like they’re on fire, and you feel like they’re about to burst at any second. You wiggle uncomfortably and pout at Joel. He’s thinking of ways to help and can only think of a single thing that might help but is hesitant about bringing it up. 
“What if…” He trails off, swallowing the dry lump growing in his throat, “What if I help… relieve some of that pressure?” 
Your eyebrows furrow together, confused. “How?” 
“Umm,” He glances around. He knows it’s just the two of you, but he wants to make sure because he’s about to suggest something crazy. His voice drops an octave, suggesting, “I can milk you,”
Your jaw slacks, and you hiss, “Like a cow?”
“N-no!” Joel sputters, hands waving aimlessly around, but it dawns on him it’s exactly like that, and sheepishly, he says: “Okay, yeah… it might be similar to that,” 
“Joel,” Your voice wavers, hot tears swell in your eyes. You feel stupid! And your emotions won’t stop. You know he’s just trying to help, but dammit! Joel just called you a cow - “I can’t believe you think I’m a cow,” 
Joel gives you an apologetic look. He’s sympathetic to your situation; he knows you don’t mean to be this hormonal, and he knows it’s his child doing this to you. He places a hand on your belly and gently rubs the fabric of his stretched-out shirt (the only one that fits!). He leans over, “Darlin’… you’re not a cow. You’re growing a baby. And I think, from what I read, that your milk ducts need to be expressed,”
“What does that mean? Expressed? Are you going to suck the milk out, Joel?” 
Joel's cheeks redden, and the sultry tone in your voice surprises him. He thinks he has imagined it, but then, Joel sees how your eyes darken into a lustful frequency. He reads your message loud and clear. 
Without hesitation, Joel captures your jaw between his rough fingers and kisses you. It’s sweet. Gentle. Exactly what you need to forget your frustration with him. But of course, you want more. You deepen the kiss, swiping your tongue across Joel’s lower lip and dipping your tongue into his mouth. Ever so slightly, he groans. He loves it when your forward. 
You’re leaning over, as far as you can with your belly, and place your hands onto Joel’s jean-clad thighs. You must hold onto something for balance because your stupid belly messes with your center of gravity. You have yet to get used to it. You’re trying to climb into Joel’s lap, but it’s useless. You’re struggling to lift your body into his, and you pull back, huffing in frustration. 
“This stupid belly!” You mutter while rubbing it. Joel finds your annoyance cute, and despite his best effort, Joel’s cock is already stirring inside his pants. It’s been a while since you two had sex, and today is the day that he’s going to fuck you after weeks of hiatus. 
“Babe, it’s not stupid,” Joel coos and helps you stand. Your belly knocks into his, and it makes him smile. His teeth flash, and the skin by his eyes crinkles with delight. He can’t believe he’s going to be a father again. He can’t wait to meet his little one. But, for now, Joel must give you some relief because it is his fault that you’re in this position. He’s the one who kept pumping his seed into your womb. 
Joel knew the consequences of not using a condom, and here he is - reaping what he sowed. He begins leading you to the bedroom, insisting, “Let me take care of you,” 
“We shouldn’t - I have to meet Maria in an hour, and it’ll take me at least 45 minutes to waddle there,” 
Joel ignores you, pulling your body into the room and shutting the door swiftly behind you. He doesn’t need prying eyes on what he’s about to do. Joel starts by showering your jaw and neck with kisses, his fingers playing with the bottom hem of his shirt before tugging it off. He nearly gasps from seeing your breasts, practically spilling out of the tiny bra that once fit your tits so perfectly. 
You feel Joel devouring your body, noting how his hungry eyes stare at your chest. You mutter, “They’re massive, aren’t they?” 
“They’re perfect, babe,” Joel nods and wraps an arm around your body. With a single finger, he unlatches your bra, and your tits spring free as the garment falls to the ground. A groan of surprise escapes Joel’s throat, and his hard cock strains against his zipper. He marvels at your milky skin, strewn with veins and stretch marks. He reaches and cups them, his fingers ghosting over your nipples, which are a deeper colour than before. Even in these short weeks, your body has made changes he wasn’t even aware of. 
You hiss, “Joel,” but your eyes close because the relief of him holding your breasts has taken the strain off your back. He blows a soft gust at your left side and watches as your face twists into discomfort. 
“Shit, darlin’… are they really that sensitive?” 
You whimper, “Yeah - they’re that sensitive,” 
“If it hurts, tell me to stop,” Joel instructs before he lowers his mouth to your breast. He kisses the skin, and you melt beneath the attention. When Joel swipes his tongue across the rock-hard nipple, you bite back the yelp that threatens to come out and instead focus on how Joel gingerly kneads the pillowy flesh that drapes from your chest. He’s listening to you, waiting for you to tell him to stop. But you don’t. You’re bearing the torment he's putting you through because you know it will feel good at some point. And eventually, it does. 
It’s undeniable: Joel’s hands on your breasts feel amazing, and his warm mouth working on your right nipple is starting to create wetness between your thighs. As his fingers continue, you notice a new sensation in your breast that makes you squirm. At that moment, you feel a release as something emerges from your nipple and shoots into Joel’s mouth. You gasp and watch as he finally yields, pulling away from your body. You see the slightest evidence of white dew on his lower lip, and when you look down at your nipple, it's leaking with the same substance. You are shocked, unsure of what to do. 
“Does that feel better, darlin’?” Joel hums. Hastily, you nod and swallow dryly. It does feel better, but you need more relief. 
You gaze at Joel, eyelids cutely fluttering at him. You sheepishly ask, “What about the other side?” 
Joel just smiles and helps you onto the bed. He places two extra pillows behind your back, ensuring you’re comfy before he settles down. He raises his head again, latching his mouth onto your other breast. Once more, the feeling is overwhelming. Almost too much to bear. You grit through the discomfort, relenting to the sensation of Joel’s mouth and hand as he works. Soon enough, another squirt of hidden cream comes forth. 
It has you moaning this time, and you bask in the momentary relief. And instead of leaving your breast unattended, your hands thread through Joel’s dishevelled hair, and you keep him there. Breathlessly, you demand, “Don’t stop,” He listens and continues to work your breasts until your moans are frantic and your thighs continuously flex. Your arousal has grown to great heights, and an aching desire radiates in your core for the first time in a long time. 
You reach down, fingers dipping into your sweatpants - again, it’s the only thing that fits - and notice how soaked your panties are. Of course, these days, it's a common occurrence. Pregnancy has your body changing in ways you didn’t even consider. Some of them are shocking, and some of them are annoying. Since the first trimester, the idea of sex repulses you. And it made you feel guilty because you live to please Joel. But your lovely partner doesn’t mind; he’s just been taking longer showers, which has been pissing Ellie off because there’s often no hot water left for her - 
Joel notices your hand sliding into your pants and wants some of that action too. He takes one hand and places it on top of yours. Sharply, you inhale. You love how Joel is guiding your hand to his will. With his skillful touch, it doesn’t take long to reach the peak, turning you into a groaning mess as waves of pleasure swell and roll across your body. You notice how your belly quivers with delight too.
As you descend from the peak, you let Joel go. He lifts his head and wipes his milk-laced mouth before kissing you on the lips. You taste yourself. It’s sweet and creamy, reminding you of something you can’t quite place. As Joel’s tongue explores your mouth, you relish the feeling because it’s been too long. You missed his passion, and you missed him ravishing your body. 
“Joel, I need you,” You whine through kisses as your hands wander up and down his back, attempting to undress him. He moves, and his shirt and pants are on the ground within seconds. With no underwear in sight, your eyes lock onto his dick, hanging freely. The presence of it never fails to make you drool. 
Despite his quick movements to undress, Joel takes a slower approach with you and leisurely removes your sweatpants. His hands work with delicate precision, especially when he’s around your stomach. It’s incredibly frustrating for you, and you’re huffing in annoyance. It’s never been like this before. He’s always so rough, taking on a lusty savageness, and Joel would be inside by now. However, he’s still working off your panties. 
“Joel,” You whimper. Your body vibrates with anticipation, and you don’t know how much more you can take. You need his cock, and you don’t care if something goes wrong. Months of built-up horniness are making you reckless. You beg, “Please just fuck me already,” 
His eyes snap to yours. They’re dark with desire. As he places his body between your thighs, he murmurs, “I don’t want to hurt you or the baby,” Joel anticipates your reply - stupid belly - and hushes you before it can come out: “It’s not stupid - it’s love,”
“Love?” You whisper, confused. It’s not common, and Joel has only used it once. Morning sickness took over, and you were throwing up for weeks. Ellie and Joel thought you were dying. And, of course, for a little while, you believed them. It wasn’t until Maria asked when your last period did you clue in. And when you relayed that message to Joel, his grumpy face went unusually slack before joy took over. He swept you into his arms, kissed you, and said: 
“I love you,” He repeats while wrapping a hand around his cock, lowering it to your glistening, swollen exterior. Expertly, he glides the crown of his cock up and down, watching as your juices coat it. You moan because your pussy is so unbelievably sensitive that another climax is blooming in your core. Joel finds himself commenting: “Goddamn… Your cunt is soaking wet,”
You squirm, hips wiggling as you spread your thighs further apart. You hate begging for it, but your cunt yearns for fulfillment. “Please!”
Joel presses his big, round tip against your tight entrance. You bite your lower lip, eyes gazing down at the penetration point, but your belly is in the way. You can’t see what’s happening but don’t have to because you suddenly feel his cock pushing through. At first, your velvet channel is resistant, but that doesn’t deter Joel.
As your walls grip his cock, coating it in a creamy warmth, Joel tosses his head back and sighs with satisfaction. It’s been so long. His hand has nothing on your pussy. Joel delves his cock as deep as possible, and you can feel it practically bulging inside your stomach. And when Joel places his hands on either side of your protruding belly, your impending orgasm rips through.
“Mmm, cumming already,” Your pussy convulses and clenches as a powerful wave of immeasurable pleasure crashes. White, hot flashes across your vision, sweeping you into a moment of intensity. Joel admires as your body undulates beneath him, studying as your belly ripples. He knows the pregnancy is the reason for your quick orgasms, and he wonders how many he can get out before he cums. 
With a mission in mind, Joel lets you come back down before he starts to rock his hips back and forth. It doesn’t take long until you’re trembling with a third orgasm. You cry out, hands gripping the sheets below. You barely have time to catch your breath before Joel ups his pace, and he excitedly speers your pussy with youthful energy. 
Hypnotically, Joel watches as your tits bounce with each thrust, and soon enough, his fingers are back on them. He squeezes and kneads until the milk sprays out with a such force that it sprinkles across your chest and coats his hands. A feral growl escapes from your mouth, “Joel,” 
Your vision swirls, and your body shivers with ecstasy as a fourth orgasm rolls through. You gasp, sucking in as much air as you can. You look at Joel, marveling at his skin's sheer layer of sweat. He has a look of concentration on his face, and you know he must be close. You encourage him to cum, repeatedly. 
But before he can, a fifth and final climax hits your body. It has you swearing and calling Joel names, “You fucking bastard,” as your pussy floods and swells around his cock. By this point, there’s a growing puddle beneath your ass, and Joel’s cock is exploring your molten wetness with ease. His flesh claps against yours and echos across the room. His groans are uncontrollable now, and he screws his eyes shut, trying to hold back. 
The effort is futile, and he slams into your body, forgetting about being gentle. A stern look of arousal etches upon his face, and a deep, low guttural grunt spills from his lips. He doesn’t have a chance to warn you because his cock surges with a thick, plentiful rope of his cum, and floods your cunt with a warm stickiness. His hands are back and resting against your belly. Joel juts his hips forward, pushing a second load of cum deep into your cunt. He doesn’t have to worry about getting you pregnant because the damage is already done.
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ellemj · 4 months
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Time & Temptation - Roommates w/ Benefits Pt. 3
Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader
Read parts 1 and 2 first if you haven't!
Summary: Bucky took a bullet for you and your ungrateful attitude is exactly what will help end his unwanted attraction to you, his new roommate. Or at least he thought it would help, until he found out how pretty you look on your knees.
Warnings: profanity, teasing, alcohol consumption, mutual masturbation, hint of a size kink, blood, gunshot wounds, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Word Count: 5.7k
A/N: According to @littlemiss-yeehaw, this is the filthiest thing I've ever written. Idk if I agree but it's a lil tiny bit filthy. Sorry for the long wait but I did NOT want to risk half-assing this chapter when I was so focused on getting through the 12 Days of Smut in December. Hope you all enjoy!
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            Pissed. That’s what you are in this moment, beyond pissed. You’re in the backseat of Sam’s car as he drives you and Bucky through the city, heading back to your apartment complex. He should be heading toward the nearest hospital but of course, the stubborn ass super soldier who you now call your roommate adamantly refused to go to the hospital after being shot.
            “If I see so much as one drop of blood on my leather seats...” Sam threatens coldly, shooting Bucky a side-eye from the driver’s seat. You don’t even have to see his face to know that Bucky’s returning the calloused look. You let out an annoyed sigh as you start unbuckling the strap of one of your heels, your shimmery body glitter reflecting the mix of moonlight and streetlights streaming in from the windows. “And you,” Sam says, casting a glance in the rearview mirror and catching your gaze, “don’t get glitter all over my damn car.”
            “I’d be getting glitter all over Elias Leveaux’s car right now if Bucky hadn’t inserted himself into my op.” You put extra emphasis on the word my, using the rearview mirror to look at Bucky’s stoic expression. He keeps his eyes trained on the road ahead, refusing to dignify you with even a brief darting of his eyes in your direction. After kicking off your heels and stuffing them in your duffel bag, you reach behind yourself to start undoing the back of your lacey corset top. Though it looks hot as fuck on you, it’s also uncomfortable as fuck and you’re not wearing it for a moment longer than you have to. Your breasts are one more snap away from spilling out of the top when Sam catches Bucky’s gaze drifting to the rearview mirror so briefly that he’s surprised he even noticed it. Sam’s quick to reach a hand up and tilt the mirror to point at the ceiling, shooting Bucky a disapproving look. He would’ve expected a man from Steve’s era to behave a little better than that. “What the hell were the three of you even doing there tonight? This was meant to be a solo op, I didn’t need any more backup than I already had.”
            “Right, you’d be safely on your way to Leveaux’s house right now, wouldn’t you? Without a bullet wound in your head or your chest or wherever else?” Bucky seethes, growing more and more tired of your stubbornness. Do you not realize that it was a planned shooting? Someone knew Leveaux was going to be at the club tonight and they plotted it all ahead of time, aiming to either scare him into staying off of the streets of the city or maybe even aiming to kill him. It was going to happen regardless of how much backup you did or didn’t have tonight.
            “You know, Bucky, you can’t say shit. You got yourself shot tonight. You should’ve stayed in the club.” As soon as the words leave your lips you feel a tinge of regret settling in the pit of your stomach. He got himself shot protecting you. He shielded you with his own body. He was observant of your surroundings, he saw the dark car slowly coming down the street with its windows halfway down, and his first move was to shove you against the wall and put his body between yours and the danger behind. He likely saved your life, yet you can’t find it within yourself to offer him even a measly thank you. He’s actually a little bit thankful for everything that happened after you left the stage earlier, because he was really starting to wonder how the hell he was going to find enough to dislike about you to keep his cock from getting hard every time you cross paths, which is way too often when you live together. But you acting like this? Acting like he did you a disservice by not only saving you from a hail of gunfire but also by saving you from going home with the most notorious arms dealer in the northern U.S? He thinks this ungrateful attitude of yours might cure him.
            When the sound of your last corset fastener snapping open disturbs the short-lived silence in the car, Bucky clenches his teeth together. He wishes you would wait until you were home to change, but he also couldn’t stand knowing that you were sitting there in that fucking black lingerie set with nothing but another man’s coat covering your skin. Maybe he isn’t as cured as he thought.
            “You should’ve called me Sam, you should’ve told me that you guys were going to be there tonight.” Your tone is a little softer as you slip on a black Calvin Klein bra and then pull your black sweater from earlier over it.
            “Fury didn’t brief us until the last minute, I had no idea it was your op until it was too late to call you. You were already onsite.” Sam explains, trying to diffuse your anger a bit more. You sigh as you slide your black jeans over your legs and begin zipping and buttoning them closed.
            “I’ve been waiting to get him alone for months.” You’re sulking. You put so much time and effort into tracking Leveaux’s every move, every hobby, every place he frequents. You know the man inside and out, and you knew this night was your only chance to get what you needed from him. You lift your right hand and massage your temples with your middle finger and thumb, feeling the start of a stress headache coming on.
            “You’ll get another chance. He was pretty damn interested in you and what you had to offer.” Sam points out, fixing the rearview mirror back into its proper position and using it to make eye contact with you. He knows you work hard and that you’re good at your job, and he hates to see you so frustrated over one op being blown for reasons that were out of your control. As much as you want to blame Bucky, it wasn’t even his fault. However, you plan to hold a bit of a grudge regardless.
            “Answer this one for me, when you were briefed, did Fury tell you that my cover name was the same as my real first name?” You ask, perking up in your seat a bit as you fish around in your bag for your socks. It’s freezing outside and you can barely feel your feet after wearing your heels out in such a low temperature.
            “You really think I would’ve blown your cover unintentionally?” Bucky questions, his blue eyes boring into yours in the mirror. Clearly he takes offense at your insinuation. He might’ve inserted himself into your moment with Leveaux on a whim, but he isn’t reckless like you, he knew what he was doing outside the club. He was saving your ass. You stare right back at him, malice lighting your gaze on fire.
            “You’re telling me you meant to do it on purpose?”
            “Calm down, we knew your cover name was the same as your real name. Your cover wasn’t blown.” Sam interjects, trying his best to stomp out the flames of the fight that’s brewing between you and Bucky. His eyes leave the road for a moment as he casts a glance between the two of you, unable to ignore the growing tension in the car. “What the hell is up with you two? I’ve barely ever seen you guys interact, much less be at each other’s throats like you are right now. Am I missing something?”
            “No.” You and Bucky speak the word in unison. The last few minutes of the car ride are taken in silence, no one daring to say another word as you and Bucky stew in your own anger and Sam focuses on avoiding patches of black ice in the road. You’ve almost forgotten that Bucky’s been shot, until you get out of the car in the parking garage and see the sizable, dark red wet patch smeared across the fabric covering his torso. He’s keeping his flesh hand held tight over the area, in an attempt to abate the blood loss. It looks a lot worse than he’s been making it seem, but you’d expect no less from someone so damn stubborn.
            It only takes a couple of minutes to make it to your floor of the complex, and as soon as the elevator doors begin sliding open to let you both out, you can feel that urge somewhere deep inside, tugging at your conscience. You’re going to end up breaking out your first aid kit and using it on him. You can’t even argue with yourself, it’s what’s going to happen. It’s inevitable. Fuck your medical background and inherent need to take care of everyone but yourself.
Bucky’s planning to shower the blood off of his skin and maybe throw a couple of bandages over the entrance and exit wounds that he knows he’s sporting. That’s the most that he thinks he’ll need. He’s barely ever needed any more than a little wound cleansing and maybe some gauze here and there, he heals so quickly that first aid always been an unnecessary comfort. As he trails behind you down the hallway, watching the way you fiddle with the set of keys in your right hand, he wonders what you’re thinking now. He imagines you’re probably picturing yourself leaving him standing on the curb as you ride off into the dark of night with Elias Leveaux. Would you really have made it all the way to Leveaux’s house and let him put his hands on you? Would you have let him have you? All for a little bit of intel that you could probably gain in a much safer way? God, Bucky can’t stand you or the way you operate in the field. The next time Fury calls him in on anything related to you, he’s waving a white flag of surrender and saying hell no. He isn’t going to be tasked with sitting on the sidelines to watch as you let some criminal touch your ass and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. Fuck that.
You deftly slide your key into the lock, turning it to the right before pushing the door handle down. When the door swings open, the darkness of your apartment greets you, mingling with an eerie silence. That’s another thing that you and Bucky don’t have in common. You always leave a light on when you go out, whether it’s a table lamp or the light above the stovetop in the kitchen, you hate coming home to darkness. But Bucky never leaves a light on. It’s like he’s allergic to all things cozy and comforting. You’re acutely aware of his presence behind you as you step into the apartment and stop in your tracks when he shuts the door behind you both. It’s dark, too dark. Of course, when you freeze right in front of him, Bucky’s next step sends him crashing into your back, which sends you nearly sprawling to the floor. He reaches out with his vibranium hand and grabs you by the elbow, steadying you quickly before letting go. It only takes him a second to figure out why you’ve stopped short, and he turns around to feel along the wall by the door until he hears the way the scratchy sound of the rough painted wall gives way to the smooth plastic covering of the light switch panel under his metal fingers. When he flicks the living room light on, you let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding.
Bucky watches as you cross the living room and disappear down the hallway, making a left turn into your bedroom with your duffel bag in tow. Maybe he’s imagining it, but he swears he sees a trail of glitter and being sprinkled across the floor in your wake and cartoon-style steam billowing out of your ears. With you gone, he can finally think without a cloud of anger fogging up his thoughts. His first move is to turn on the lights in the kitchen and fish a cold beer out of the fridge. His second move is to lean back against the edge of the island and take a long sip of said beer as he gauges how much his gunshot wound hurts. Not that much. Listening to you give him shit over nothing was more painful than the bullet he took for you. God, you’re fucking infuriating. As much as he detests your presence here tonight, he still finds himself tuning an ear in your direction. He can hear you rummaging around in your room, presumably searching for something by the sounds of your sighs and various objects sliding across the carpet. For a second, his mind floats back to the first night you moved in. The soft moans and whimpers that fell from your mouth, quiet enough that he had to strain his ears to hear them but loud enough that he was able to fucking memorize them. His grip around the beer bottle tightens as he tries to focus on anything besides those sounds, anything besides the recurrent sighs traveling down the hall right now. What the hell are you even doing in there?
“Take off your shirt.” Your voice sounds out from down the hall, reaching Bucky’s ears and making him do a doubletake.
“Last time you saw me without one you asked why I never wear one.” Bucky points out, now he’s really wondering what you’re doing in your bedroom. He hears your socked feet pattering against the floor of the hallway just before you turn the corner and step into the kitchen. His eyes lock onto yours first, but then they quickly dart down to the compact, army green tactical bag in your hands. He recognizes it in an instant. “I think if I got myself shot, I can handle the wound care on my own, sweetheart.” Bucky throws your earlier words right back in your face. You narrow your eyes at him as you step up to the island and set the first aid bag just a few inches to his right. You’re silent as you unzip it and start pulling out a few supplies you’re sure you’ll need.
“Just take off your shirt and sit your ass on the island.” Your tone is really starting to convey how fed up you are with his shit. He thinks about arguing a little more, but he’s as ready to be done with you tonight as you are with him. He figures the fastest way to get this over with is to let you take a look at his wound and see how fast he’s already healing, and then you’ll leave him alone and you can go your separate ways for the night. So, Bucky turns and sets his now half-empty beer bottle on the island next to the first aid kit before grasping the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. He drops it on the floor by your feet, watching with poorly masked amusement as your eyes rake over his toned shoulders, his chest, the rippled muscles of his abs, and then… “God, you should’ve gone to the hospital, Bucky.”
Though the lighting in the kitchen is pretty good, Bucky being so tall casts a shadow over his lower body, making it hard to get an illuminated view of the bullet’s exit wound. Your hand lands on his vibranium shoulder without hesitation and you tug him forward and to the side, urging him to turn around. He complies, gritting his teeth at the feeling of your palm and fingertips brushing over the scars where vibranium meets tortured skin. It doesn’t hurt, in fact, he finds himself annoyed at how soothing your touch feels. He wants this whole thing over with. You lean over to examine the entrance wound on the side of his lower back as Bucky runs a hand through his hair and squeezes his eyes shut. It doesn’t look anywhere near as bad as the exit wound on his frontside, which is exactly what you’d expected. You don’t give Bucky any warning as you swipe a pre-soaked pad of iodine over his wound to clean it. You want to check for bullet fragments, to give him a few stitches and maybe even a shot of a local anesthetic, but you’re sure he’d rather take another bullet than let you do any of that. So, you simply clean the wound and fashion a secure, waterproof bandage over it. When you stand up again and tap his shoulder, he turns back around to face you, looking even more annoyed than before. He doesn’t make a move to sit on the island, so you let out a frustrated sigh as you do the only thing you can think to do, the thing that Bucky wishes you hadn’t done. You sink to your knees in front of him.
You notice the way he draws in a deep breath and casts a displeased glance down at you, his eyes narrowed and brow furrowed, but he doesn’t move a muscle otherwise. You look up at him just for a moment, taking in his cold expression and everything below it…the taut muscles of his chest and abdomen, the way both of his hands are gripping the edge of the countertop, his beer long forgotten with you now on your knees. If you could hear his thoughts, you’d be hearing a chorus of not now, not now, not now as Bucky attempts to rationalize with his already-hardening cock. Bucky decides to give you thirty seconds to finish whatever the hell it is that you’re about to do down there before he pulls you up by your fucking hair. As if you can sense his short fuse, you get to work. Swiping the iodine pad over the significantly messier exit wound and then tearing open a packet of gauze with your teeth. You press a couple of the soft white squares against his still oozing wound and they quickly soak up the fresh blood, soaking through to your fingertips. Bucky’s wondering why you didn’t put on any gloves, aren’t people usually worried about catching some bloodborne illness when they do shit like this? The fact that his blood turning your fingertips red doesn’t even seem to bother you almost turns him on more. God, this is starting to feel a little bit too twisted. Bucky’s flesh hand moves on autopilot, his fingers coming to rest over yours as he applies more pressure to the wound and lets out a soft grunt at the pain. You let him hold your fingers there for a moment and you make the mistake of looking up at him again. Fuck. He can’t handle this. Bucky screws his eyes shut and tilts his head back a little, making sure when he opens his eyes again his only view will be of the ceiling above and not of you on your knees in front of him.
“Are you almost done?” He asks harshly, removing his hand from the top of yours and gripping the edge of the counter once more. You start fashioning another bandage out of gauze and medical tape as soon as his hand leaves yours.
“I would be if you’d sat on the island like I asked you to, you wanted to do this the hard way.” You retort. You can’t seem to get the tape in a good enough position, not with the waistband of his tactical pants in the way, so you take the initiative and curl two fingertips into them before tugging them down an inch. That one inch is enough to reveal the beginning of a v-line and your breath hitches in your throat. You’re suddenly all-too-aware of the compromising position you’re in. Even more than that, you’re aware of something you’d been completely oblivious to just a moment before: Bucky’s hard-on outlined through the fabric of his pants.
You’re frozen for a second too long and when you come to your senses once more, you look up to find Bucky staring down at you, his gaze a little less cold but every bit as intense. You decide that making eye contact with the man that you’re currently non-sexually on your knees for might not be the smartest move, so you’re quick to avert your gaze back to the task at hand. You’re able to get the bandage in the right place just fine after tugging his pants down an inch, and as soon as the tape sticks to his skin you rise to your feet. You’re the only thing standing between Bucky and the short walk to his bedroom door. You’re ready to collect your first aid kit and leave him standing in the kitchen to steep in his anger, but your mind can’t seem to get past the fact that he has a hard-on. He saw you staring at it too, and he simply stood there looking down at you, as if he was waiting to see how you’d respond to it. God, who the hell does he think he is? Crashing your solo op, taking a bullet for you like he’s some all-American hero, and then getting turned on by what? You giving him shit for it all?
Bucky’s waiting a bit impatiently for you to take your leave, for you to gather your medical supplies back into the little tactical bag and disappear into your bedroom for the rest of the night, leaving a trail of body glitter all over the kitchen and hallway. But instead of leaving, you’re standing in front of him, your eyes analyzing every twitch of the muscles along his jaw, every little move he makes with his eyes as he stares right back at you. Your boldness seems to intensify as you stand there taking in the sight of your roommate. You want the last word, and you want it to be something he’ll remember, so he doesn’t go screwing up your hard work ever again.
Leaning into Bucky’s space, you’re met with his intoxicatingly pleasant scent, he smells so uniquely like him. There isn’t any other way to describe it, it’s just Bucky. You brace your hands on the edge of the island on either side of him, your arms brushing against each of his as you rise up on your toes and position your lips so close to his ear that you could stick your tongue out and taste him if you wanted to. Fuck, you kind of want to. The thought only graces your mind for the briefest moment before you let your eyes flutter closed and focus on the anger you still feel bubbling up in your chest.
“Stay the fuck away from my solo ops.” You whisper softly but pointedly. Your bottom lip just barely grazes the shell of his ear as the last word leaves your mouth. That tiny, brief point of physical connection between the two of you is seemingly nothing, yet it sends a spark of electricity from your bottom lip all the way down to your toes.
Bucky’s form is rigid, trapped between you and the island, simultaneously hating and loving the position he’s been placed in. He wishes he only hated it. He wishes he could fist his hand in your hair and angle your head back until your neck is exposed to him like a blank canvas, ready for him to leave his mark. He wishes you would’ve locked yourself in your bedroom the moment you both got to the apartment, not even bothering to fish out your first aid kit and clean up his wounds. He wishes he’d never given you the idea to switch apartments with Vision, and yet, in this moment, his cock is harder than it’s ever been. That’s why when you let go of the island and turn away from Bucky, leaving your first aid kit on the countertop as you take the first step to leave the kitchen, Bucky reaches out and curls his hand tightly around your upper arm, stopping you in your tracks before using his grip to turn you back around to face him. In one swift motion, he tightens his hold even more and pulls you in until your chest is pressed against his and his warm breath is fanning across your face as he looks down at your widened eyes.
“I don’t take orders from people who don’t give a shit if they live or die.” Bucky spits, holding you against him for just a second after he’s spoken his piece, before dropping his hold on your arm and letting you stumble one step back. He expects you to maybe mutter something under your breath before stomping off to your room, annoyed that he didn’t let you have the last word, but you’re every bit as stubborn as he is. Every bit as stubborn and feeling like you have a leg up in the situation since you know what’s currently fighting to escape the confines of his tactical pants. A smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth as your eyes flit from his icy expression down to his waistband that sits right above the outline of his hard-on, and then back up to his eyes once more.
“Right, it’s probably bad form to take professional orders from someone you wanna fuck anyway.” When you say the word fuck, you let your eyes drift down to the front of his pants one final time, ensuring that he knows what led you to your choice of words. Now Bucky returns your smirk. His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip as he shakes his head at you.
“That’s all adrenaline, sweetheart, nothing else.” His denial is both enraging and laughable. You tsk, closing the distance between the two of you one more time before reaching out with your right hand and letting the tips of your fingers, still tinged red with his blood, tap lightly over the center of his chest. He’s looking down at you, completely unable to force himself to look anywhere else, as you drag those fingers down his bare torso, so lightly that he feels goosebumps forming across the expanse of his skin. Your hand travels lower and lower, over the hills and valleys of his abs, ghosting over his navel, and down the thin trail of hair that leads straight to the thing you can’t stop thinking about. You let your fingertips skim over the fabric of his waistband just barely, just enough to really piss him off, and that’s when Bucky snatches your wrist away, his grip so tight that you’re sure it’ll leave a mark.
“Watch it.” He warns, with his eyes dark and narrowed as he casts you a disapproving yet sinful glance. You feel your bloodflow splitting in two directions, half of it rushing up to color your cheeks and the other have rushing down to pool low in your stomach, sending heat swirling between your legs. You swallow thickly. What the hell? Your body is clearly loving the way he’s talking to you and it’s pissing you off. You’re learning that you’re attracted to men with the unhealthiest of attitudes, and Bucky’s currently rising to the top of the unhealthy-attitude-yet-hot-as-fuck mental list that you’re keeping. He’s actually the only person on it. He just invented the list for you, in this moment, when he told you to watch it.
“I think I heard a button snap there, soldier.” You tease, letting your eyes flit down to the waistband of his pants again. Bucky’s jaw ticks as he flicks your wrist away from him and tries to ignore the new nickname you’ve decided to test out. How do you make such a common, simple title sound so damn filthy? Bucky thinks you could’ve actually heard the button of his tactical pants snap open, considering the way his cock has been twitching every time you open your mouth. He decides the only way for him to get out of this is to let you have the last word, so he stands there in silence as you study his tense face. He so badly wants to say something back, to anger you every bit as much as you’ve angered him tonight, but he knows how stubborn you are and every word he breathes will only keep you here in front of him longer. His tactic works like a charm and he watches with bated breath as you step away from him and take a few steps toward the hallway. You stop short right before disappearing behind the wall, looking over your shoulder and making eye contact with Bucky one final time.
“Let me know if you need any help with all of that uh…” You wave your hand around in the air as you refer to Bucky’s hard-on, with a near-permanent smirk plastered on your face. “Adrenaline. It’s the least I can do.”
Bucky’s left alone in the kitchen at last. He thought he’d feel instant relief once you left, but he doesn’t. He feels like he has a damn loaded gun tucked in the front of his pants. Let me know if you need any help? It’s the least I can do? Bucky has no doubt that you were simply being a sarcastic pain in his ass, but still. Your words were laced with innuendo and the sexual tension in the room was so thick that he could barely breathe. He is so beyond fucked.
---
            The softest, sweetest little hum escapes your lips as your right hand moves of its own volition. The back of your hand feels the fabric of your cotton panties, which are a little bit damp even after you showered and changed into a fresh pair. The pads of your fingers are sliding back and forth along your folds, gathering your wetness and spreading it around, dragging closer and closer to your entrance with each downward sweep. When you let the tip of your middle finger dip down and inward, just barely entering where you’ve been feeling an empty sort of ache for the past hour, the steady string of hums and soft pants that were leaving your lips before become whispered moans. This is exactly what you needed.
            Bucky’s fist is wrapped tightly around the shaft of his cock as he gives it torturously slow strokes from the base to the tip, prolonging his pleasure as long as he possibly can. He closes his eyes and instantly recalls the mental image of you on your knees at his feet, gazing up at him like you being in that position for him wasn’t at all out of the ordinary.
            “Fuck.” Bucky groans lowly, speeding up the work of his right hand as his head presses back harder into his pillow. It’s burned into his eyelids, the image of you on your knees. It’s burned into his eyelids and he fears he’ll never be able to forget it. His brain takes the image and adds to it, evolving it to include your hands sliding up the fronts of his thighs and adding a flash of hunger behind your eyes. He gets far too close to finishing himself off too soon when he imagines you tugging on the waistband of his pants just like you did earlier, but enough to free his cock right there in front of you. God, he knows he’s well-endowed, but he can just picture how much bigger his dick would look if your hand was wrapped around it instead of his own. Another groan rumbles past his lips, louder this time, as he starts to lose a little bit of his self-control.
            Bucky. His name is swirling around your mind for two reasons now. The first being that you’re touching yourself because of him. Because of the way he looked at you, talked to you, because of the way he pissed you off. You slowly pull two fingers out of your pussy and drag them upwards until you reach your clit, beginning to stimulate it a little too excitedly as the second reason presents itself again. He groans. Bucky Barnes groans for the second time. The first time that you heard it a few seconds ago you assumed he was rolling over in bed or maybe he accidentally laid in a way that aggravated his wounds from earlier tonight. But the second time you heard it you had no doubt about what he was doing. It has to be exactly what you’re doing, and you’re fucking thrilled. You know it isn’t the most honest or decent way to reach an orgasm, but hell, if he’s going to be so damn vocal with such thin walls, how can you resist? So, you rub circles against your clit, letting hushed pants and moans fall freely from your lips now, sure that Bucky’s too engaged in his own arousal to hear you.
            You sound like a fucking goddess. Bucky doesn’t even take a moment to feel guilty, no, he only picks up the speed with which he’s desperately tugging on his cock to get to his release. A thin sheen of sweat has formed across his brow and his chest is burning with a mix of desire and near-hyperventilation as he touches himself and listens to the sinful sounds coming from across the hall. All cares have been thrown aside as yet another loud curse is torn out of him, and then an equally loud, provocative moan is returned from your room. That’s when Bucky’s eyes snap open and his thumb glides over the slit of his cock where precum has been steadily leaking out since your dangerous kitchen encounter earlier. If he’s being honest with himself, his dick has been leaking precum since you took the stage at the club earlier tonight. As the two of you exchange moans and broken swears through the walls, neither of you using an ounce of rational thinking, you race toward your separate releases simultaneously. When Bucky finally feels his balls tightening and his cock twitching against the palm of his tiring hand, his release comes at the sound of your final audible sentence of the night.
            “Fuck, I’m cumming.”
            You always get the last word.
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toxicanonymity · 6 months
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Midnight Snack.
3.4k slasher!Joel x f!reader
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slasher Joel master list | spotify slaylist SUMMARY: Joel has dinner at his Mom’s house, then pays you a visit. A/N: Shoutout to @iamasaddie for the master list mood board magnets, @gasolinerainbowpuddles for the.edit, fridge magnet anon ask, @thesummerpetrichor , anyone I'm forgetting?  WARNINGS: I8+ dubcon unsafe p in v, creampie, light somnophilia, choking, degradation, home intrusion, manual restraint, spitting, toxic parental issues, angst/insecurity, changes POV, NO Y/N.  
“What are you doing here?” you ask. .He doesn’t answer, just breathes heavily. He’s scowling down at you with a fine mist of perspiration along his hairline. . . Over a long moment of silence, a charge passes between your eyes and his.  He tilts his head, wets his lips, and looks at your mouth. You reach for the back of his neck and feel the cold sweat under your palm. . .
============================
midnight snack
============================
“I said I’m good, Ma,” Joel grumbles as his mom puts another heaping spatula of casserole on his plate anyway. He sighs and pushes it around with his fork. 
“What’s got ya down, hun?”  
“Nothin’.”
“It’s a girl, ain’t it?” She smiles. “Knew it. Last time you were here, ya had that glow," she nods, then registers his sullen face again.  "It's okay, hun. Whatever it is, you'll work it out.". 
He hasn't stopped thinking about you since he was there. When he drives, when he showers, when he goes to bed, when he jacks off—he sees the desire in your eyes when you’re pinned against the counter. He sees your dripping hole stretched around his fist. He thinks about you every time he uses his wrench. Still smells like your filthy cunt. 
"Tell me 'bout her,” his mom urges. 
“Can't,” Joel mumbles. “Don’t got a girl.” 
His mom looks at him knowingly. She always sees right through him. He doesn’t like how close they are, but in a way, she’s his only friend.  He fails to suppress a little smile, then looks down shyly at his plate and finally takes a bite.  
She asks,  “How’d ya meet?” 
Joel gives her a half-serious cautionary look and keeps chewing. 
“Work?” his mom prods. 
Joel swallows, nods, and takes a sip of milk. “Gave'r a ride.” Two rides, really. Although you took the second one all on your own. And damn, it was good. He shifts in his seat. 
“Well, great,” his mom lights up. “When ya gonna see her again?” She dabs her mouth with a cloth napkin and stands up. 
“I dunno, Ma. . .She’s too good for me.”
She huffs, adjusts her glasses, then walks over. She playfully whips him on the shoulder with the fabric napkin, then puts her finger in his face. “Don’t you ever say that. No one’s too good for my boy.” She takes his glass to the kitchen and pours him some more milk, then sits back down at the table. 
“already left me once,” Joel grumbles.
His Mom’s face falls, then sours.  
“Then she’s not worth your time." She scoffs. Or anyone else’s." 
“She’s different, Ma," he mutters deadpan, then quieter, he adds, "Sometimes I think she likes me," with the slightest lift of his brow.  
Mrs. Miller's eyebrows shoot all the way up. "Well, she should!"
"'mixed signals." He’s saying too much, but he can’t stop. It’s not like he has anyone else to talk to.
"Bring'er for dinner," she suggests.
"Ain't like that," he sulks. "We don't-" He cuts himself off and sighs, sitting back in his chair. He puts his napkin on his plate. "Shouldn't'a mentioned it," he mumbles. 
His mom reaches across the table for his hand, and he gives it to her.  He looks at the delicate, paper-thin skin covering the veins on her hand. It makes him sad. He wants to bring a girl home. He wants to make his Mom happy. He doesn't come by enough.  She must be so lonely.  And he's the one who. . .no, his father deserved it, he reminds himself for the millionth time in his life. He didn’t love them, his mom said. Resentment begins to overtake his guilt. He doesn’t want to feel sorry for her. He steels himself and decides to feel nothing. 
"Look at me, Joel."  She looks him in the eye. "You're not gonna get a wife like this, honey." Joel swallows and looks down. She continues, "Don't be a quitter. She's yours if you want her." Don’t be a quitter. 
The buzzer for the laundry goes off. Mrs. Miller starts to head to the laundry room, but Joel stops her. "Feel like a loser when ya do my laundry." 
She shakes her head in disapproval and starts clearing the table instead. "My son. . .” she picks up both their plates. ". . .Is not a loser." 
Joel finishes his laundry, watches some tv with her while she knits, then pulls himself away.  His Mom sends him on his way with an old tupperware of casserole. "Go get her," she tells him with a wink.
—-
He wants to make a move.  He wants to fuck you again, but he isn’t sure how.  How do people do it? He doesn't know how to ask you out, or what you'd do together. Every time he thinks about it, he feels stupid, but he does wanna see you.  He wants to be inside you. He wants to make you purr, little sex kitten. 
At this hour, you’re probably out whoring, but he might as well drive by while he’s close.  All your lights are off, but your car is there. Hmm. He can't bring himself to go home. Don’t be a quitter.  He sits in his car at the end of your street. Last time he came over, it went pretty well. You wanted him to fuck you, and he did.  You wanted more, and he gave you more. Then he left before you could leave him. 
He feels like you’re special, but he really only knows a few things about you. Most importantly, you like the danger, you want the thrill, you want his dick, and you sure can take a cock. 
The only thing he can think to do is give you more of what he knows you want. Even if you're asleep, you'll be purring for it as soon as he drags you out of bed and pins you on the floor.  He pictures a knife at your throat. Not a big one, just his switchblade. 
He gets out of his car and adjusts his balls, spreading his feet for a moment. Then he starts walking to your house.  After a few seconds, he goes back to his car for the casserole. Maybe you'll have a midnight snack after he stuffs you full of his cock. He rolls his eyes at himself. That’s stupid. 
—-
There's a lamp with a dying bulb barely flickering on your back patio with a couple of moths fluttering wildly around it. Joel looks into your dark kitchen and scowls at his reflection in the glass. He holds the Tupperware under his elbow and picks the lock with ease. After stepping into your kitchen, he quietly slides the door shut behind him. His boots thud stickily as he takes his first steps on the linoleum. Do you ever mop? He holds his switchblade open in the air.  He’s headed toward the hall where he expects your bedroom is.  He inches through the kitchen--between the counter on his left and the stove on his right, until he gets to your fridge.  
The surface of the fridge is peppered with magnets--souvenirs, letters of the alphabet, bottle openers. It's silly. But a piece of paper catches his eye and he stops dead in his tracks.  It's pinned to the fridge by a "J," and an "X" and an "O." He blinks and squints, but his eyes don't deceive him. It's his drawing of you, legs spread wide open. His chest flutters looking at his sketch of your cunt hung proudly on your fridge. His dick twitches, and he inhales sharply. His mouth is watering.  He dips the tip of his thick pinky between his lips and dribbles a string of saliva on the paper, right between your legs. He tilts his head and admires the way your graphite cunt glistens.
You want him. You really want him. His body relaxes. He closes and pockets his switchblade.  He opens the fridge as quietly as possible and puts the casserole on the top shelf, pausing to survey the scant contents. Mostly condiments. Takeout containers. Beer. Expired orange juice. He closes the fridge. 
The microwave is hanging down from a cabinet to his left. He steps in front of it and bends his knees enough to push back his hair in the reflection. He stands up again, squares his shoulders, then prowls in silence to your bedroom. 
---
The door is open. Of course it is. You want him.  His boots are quieter on your carpet.  He approaches the foot of your bed but doesn't get closer. You're occupying less than half the bed.  You're just as pretty in your sleep. All bundled up. He knew that already. He gets harder, recalling the time he woke you up with his cock inside you. God, you're sexy. How'd he get so lucky that a hot little slut like you wants him so bad?
He goes to the other side of your bed. His side. There’s a chair full of dirty clothes. He sits down on them and takes off his boots.  He stands up again and lowers the zipper of his jumpsuit, pressing down on his bulge to get the zipper over it without snagging. Then he peels the sleeves off and brings it down over his ass and meaty thighs. He lets it pool at his feet and steps out of it. 
He's left wearing a blue soft wash t-shirt, lighter blue striped boxers, and white socks with holes. He takes those socks off too. He approaches your bed, lifts the covers with care, and sees what you're wearing.  You're wearing the shirt–he recognizes its condition.  God damn, you really do want him.  
Joel gradually lets his weight onto your mattress as he slips under the covers. His heart races and his forehead is damp.  His cock is so hard just from being close to you. He lies there perfectly still on his side for a moment, watching your back as you breathe. Then he scoots forward, inch by inch, until his leg hair brushes your bare legs and you jerk in your sleep. 
"Shhh. It's just me," he whispers as he wraps his hulking arm over you.  He spoons you and lightly presses his hard cock against your ass. You moan in your sleep and push back, then he moans. 
You jerk in your sleep again, but this time you don't relax. You startle awake.  You gasp and whimper. Your limbs thrash, and his arm tightens around you. You squeal, and his massive hand covers your mouth.   He wasn't expecting your feisty side, kitten. He came to give you what you want. 
Why don’t you want him anymore?
-----you-----
Pure instinct kicks in when you wake up with someone in your bed. Your heart is pounding, you thrash and  kick with all your might trying to get away. He covers your mouth and repeats “It’s me, sweetheart. God damn.” He sounds confused and irritated at your reaction. His voice is familiar, but it takes you a moment to place it, despite thinking about him all the time in waking life.  It's like your subconscious hasn't caught up with reality, and can you blame it? 
"Would you stop? Damn," he pants, getting more irritated as you continue to struggle and his arm tightens more, compressing your chest.  What did he expect breaking into your house and getting into your bed?
You feel his hard dick press against your loose sleep shorts and get butterflies in your core, even as you continue struggling. He backs up for a moment and the pull of his arm forces you onto your back.  He pins you with his left forearm on your chest and aggressively yanks down your shorts then kicks them all the way off before getting between your legs. His hard cock lays against your clit, separated only by his boxers, and you're throbbing. Your efforts to free yourself get weaker and weaker until you’re just lying there, staring up at him, your chest getting sore under his arm. 
“What are you doing here?” you ask. He doesn’t answer, just breathes heavily. 
He’s scowling down at you with a fine mist of perspiration along his hairline. He presses his cock against your mound again. Over a long moment of silence, an electric charge passes between your eyes and his.  He slightly tilts his head and looks at your mouth. You reach for the back of his neck and feel the cold sweat under your palm as you pull him down, drawing his face to yours. 
Your mouths meet but don't seal, and you find your lips reaching for his, wanting something to hold, something to suck–but he devours you without granting you any bit of control. You whimper as he kisses you hungrily, hard cock throbbing against your aching clit. He kisses you sloppily, biting your lower lip, dragging his tongue across it to the corner where he pauses and presses his teeth into your cheek and grunts with a slow thrust against you. Then he drags his lips and tongue down your jaw as you tilt your chin up.
He latches onto your neck with an "mm" and his hips begin to grind his thick erection against you at a slow rhythm. He grunts and his breath is humid with a moan against your neck before he latches onto it again. You feel the delicate skin bruising under his mouth while your pussy is gushing wet. You tilt your hips and wrap a leg around him. He groans at your slick, throbbing cunt against his cock. 
He murmurs into your neck, “God damn, you’re a slut for my cock,” then chuckles. “Aren’t ya, kitten?”
He lifts his pelvis off you to massage your cunt aggressively with his hand. You whine and he gives a low whistle.  Then he urgently takes his boxers down and you help him, curling a toe into the waistband once his boxers get down to his thighs.  You drag your foot down between his legs to his feet, taking his boxers with you. . He kicks them off the rest of the way. Before he lays his hips back into you, you reach for his balls, longing to feel the heft of them. It sends a bolt of desire through you. Fuck. 
"What's wrong with you?" You ask, but you're really asking yourself.  You’re asking yourself why you've got this sicko in your bed, someone unhinged enough to break into your house not once but twice and all you want is his cock. 
"Me?" He asks. "the fuck is wrong with you?" He wraps a hand around your throat. “Playin’ games with me,” he growls bitterly. “Ya want it, ya don't, ya want it–” you cough under his grip as he reads your eyes, then he whispers, "want it" with a small nod, and takes his hand away.
He notches his tip at your entrance then breathes, "don't ya?--uggghh" As he shoves into you. “Want it, you’ll get it,” he pants as his cock parts your walls. His cock spreads you wide open as he gives you his full length, and you gasp as he bottoms out. He withdraws a few inches and hangs his head to watch you swallow him back up.  
"God damn," he murmurs.  "Forgot how tight ya were before."  Your clit twitches at the thought of the wrench. 
Then his eyes come to your chest and the ripped shirt he gave you. He moans at the sight of your nipple poking through one of the slashes and he covers it with his mouth as he fucks you.  His wide tongue drags under your nipple and wets the curled edges of the slash in the shirt before his lips seal around your nipple.  He brings his hips back and pushes into you again, sucking and moaning into your tit. Your eyes fixate on his triceps nearly bursting out of his sleeves and that’s the first time it hits you that he was already in sleepwear. He undressed and got in bed with you. God, he’s weird. And you. You're. . . You don't know, but your hands are gliding on their own over his muscular back, feeling him flex as he pounds you. 
You find your fingers curling under the bottom hem of his shirt and he reaches one hand behind his back to help you remove it. You can't see much, but when the angle shifts, the moonlight catches enough to tell you his body has really been through it. When his head dips to your neck again you watch his hulking back muscles and see lines whiter than his skin. At least a dozen, overlapping lashes. You run your hand over it and the slight change in texture makes you wince with the confirmation. No telling how old they are. 
On his front, there’s a short straight line near his shoulder and a longer, thinner one on his side, curving around near his v muscle. Your thumb drifts to that one. Joel shivers at the touch, then slams his hips into you harder. You quickly abandon it, sliding your hand up his side, then to his pec. A wicked smile spreads across half his face as your hand runs across his chest. "Y'ain't scared, are ya?" He asks, breathing heavily with his cock dragging heavily in your dripping wet cunt. 
“No.” You thumb his nipple. 
He lowers himself and lets the weight of his middle onto you with a sigh, still railing his length into you. You wrap both legs around him, and he breathes "yeah, mmmgg baby, yeah" as he fucks you deeper. 
Your nipples go fully erect. "Fuck," he breathes when he feels them.  He grinds against your clit as he fucks you, and you feel a climax looming. The thought crosses your mind whether he's going to kill you one of these days and your chest erupts in goosebumps. Your face feels cold. 
As though reading your mind, he says, “don’t whore around on me” He reads your eyes then adds, "n' you'll be fine," with a small nod, a brief smile, and harsh thrust. 
You can't help but crack a smile at the absurdity of it.  The implied monogamy–on your side, at least. When he registers your amusement, his smile fades into a scowl and his eyes turn black. He grabs your jaw, squeezes it open, and spits in your mouth.  He grabs your hand off his chest and pins both your wrists harshly above you, holding them there with one massive hand as he fucks you harder, angrier. He looks down where your bodies meet, and he watches you take his cock again, breathing heavily, sighing and moaning.
Eventually his sour mood subsides, replaced by renewed marvel at your body. "Sure can take a dick." Your hips lift into him, seeking more pressure for your clit, near the edge.  "Didn't bring my wrench." He glances around your bedroom.  You moan at the thought of him shoving something inside you. Your walls twitch, and the deep groan that leaves his mouth is too much.  You grab his ass and pull him deeper using your hands and your legs.
"Fuck, Joel," you breathe, and a new softness spreads across his face. 
His mouth falls open and he whispers, "yeah, sweetheart." You bite your lip and groan as a huge orgasm seizes you. "Yeah," he whispers and his eyes map your face as your walls clench around him. "oh fuck," he pants as you cum on his cock.  "Fuck," he breathes again, "fuckin love this cunt," he looks you in the eye.  "Ohhhh," he groans and begins to pulse inside you. He lowers his face to your neck again and you keep cumming, your body jerking into his. "Yeah, fuck," he manages into your neck as his balls empty into you. "Mmmmm" he thrusts slowly one more time like he can hardly stand the pleasure. 
He pushes himself back up to look at you and shudders as you squeeze him with an aftershock.
"'s'okay," he whispers and brushes your temple with his thumb. “ruin ya in the mornin'” In the morning? He wants to stay over? "God you're hot," he chuckles, cock still inside you. After a long moment of silence, he slides his cock out of you and you wince at the void. He lays on his stomach and drapes his arm over you. Your heart races and you can only hope he doesn’t feel it. You don’t want him in your bed right now. He's a novelty and he has to stay that way. Yeah it was fun, it’s been fun. It’s fun. You have his stupid drawing on your fridge, like a wild memory, a souvenir. But this. . . this is unsettling.  
You can't get attached to this sicko. But you know better than to try to make him leave.  He gets that look in his eye sometimes, and you just don’t know.  You take deep breaths and try to plot how you’ll get out of this in the morning. You can say you have to work. Yeah, you’ll say you have to work.  Eventually, you drift off under the weight of his arm. 
------
Thank you so much for reading and engaging! Love you guys.
@toxicfics for notifications.
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yawnderu · 7 months
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Showtime — Keegan P. Russ x Reader
Kinktober day 4: Uniform kink
They don't hate each other I promise
CW: hate sex, hardcore, scratching, dirty talk, manhandling, creampie, just. Pure filth
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"Fucking stay still." Keegan mutters between clenched teeth, trying to get you to stop fucking yourself on his dick. It was ruining the rhythm he set on his thrusts, and while any other time he would have enjoyed it, it ruined his orgasm three times already.
"Fuck you." You retort back, making him take a deep breath and wonder for a second if he should just pull out and jerk off instead of dealing with you. He shakes his head, grabbing your hips again and slamming himself all the way back inside in one thrust, basking in your loud moan before he pulled out again. Big, gloved hands pull you by the ankles as he swiftly puts you on your back, his hands folding your legs up with ease as he slams himself back in, quickly setting a punishing rhythm.
"Wanna act like a bitch? I'll fucking treat you like one." His voice is deeper and more raw, eyes shut as he holds your legs even closer to your body, the way your tight cunt is swallowing him up like nothing is making him go nuts. One of his gloved hands goes to hold the top of your head, angling it up so you can see his stupidly large dick fuck into you.
"Takin' me like nothing... how many dicks have been in this sweet cunt, hm? How many from the Ghosts?" He's simply trying to get in your head and he knows it's working by the way your half-lidded eyes open simply to glare up at him, a small frown forming on your lips as you refuse to answer.
"None of... your fucking business." Damn him and his massive cock, stretching your wet cunt out with ease as he pounds you into the mattress, using your own body to drive himself impossibly deeper inside you. The tip of his dick keeps slamming into the entrance of your abused womb, making a mix of pain and pleasure to shoot up in your body with every single deep thrust.
"The whole squad, huh?" He asked with a small, deep laugh, and you know him well enough to be able to tell he has a shit-eating grin under his skull balaclava. He lowers his body into you, arms wrapping around your waist as he hammers his thick shaft inside you, the lewd sounds of your squelching cunt and your combined moans are bouncing off the walls of the safehouse. You're mentally glad none of the other Ghosts are here yet, listening to your slutty, needy moans as Keegan uses your tiny cunt to jerk himself off.
"Maybe." You confess jokingly, though you're trying to make it seem like it's true. You've seen the way Keegan becomes possessive over you before, and you can see it now, as his light blue eyes narrow before he slams into you deeper and harder than before, his breath hot and labored right in your ear.
"Fucking slut." He says with a breathy chuckle, the way your squelching cunt is leaking all over the crotch of his uniform while you swallow him up is giving him the chance to ignore the way his heart strings get pulled at the thought of you with anyone else. His gloved hands hold the back of your knees, pulling them to your chest until you whine out. He thrashes inside you a few times before his arms wrap under the back of your knees, pulling you up with him.
"Hold on tight." Your arms immediately wrap around his neck when he lifts you up, wincing softly at the way his tactical vest is rubbing against your sensitive nipples. He moves your body up and down his dick slowly, hissing once your patience runs out and your nails scratch the only place uncovered by his uniform— the back of his neck.
"Bitch." He barks out, arms now wrapped around your waist as he begins to slam back into you, masked face hidden on the nape of your neck as he moans lowly, trying his best to fuck you as hard as he can despite his vest getting in the way. One of your hands holds onto his vest for support from his animalistic thrusts and he throws his head back, feeling the way your cunt clenches around him is already driving him over the edge.
"I'm not pulling out." He warns, as if he didn't have you begging for him to cum inside you every single time you've fucked. You simply nod your head, eyes closed as you feel the knot on your stomach coming undone, your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave at the same time Keegan is milked, letting out a deep groan right into your ear while your greedy womb gladly takes his cum, filling you to the brim with his seed just as he had done so many times in the past. He holds you close to him and you don't register his balaclava is pulled over half of his face until you feel his lips gently kissing your neck.
"Attagirl."
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k2ntoss · 22 days
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hihi, it me, back again with more jason brain rot, this time brought to you by this random Instagram reel i saw while having dinner lol
anyway, just imagine this with Jay?? like, warm cozy domestic hugs and kisses in the middle of the kitchen?? simple domestic bliss?? absolute dreammmmmm 😭😭
https://www.instagram.com/reel/C3nuMFVMRhe/?igsh=MXhqMWdtYTQxbDNqMw==
-🦊
ps. hope you're doing well lovely, miss you <3
i crave and need fluff bc i love me a little sweet jason !!!!!!!!!!! (i'm single and i want a nice relationship) i can't see the reel now BUUUUUT i'm gonna do my magic and be a simp and this could be a second fluffy part to that drabble with subby jason having to skip patrol after getting good head from his gf hehehe you can read thar here
sometimes having your girlfriend to call sick for you so you can take a rest earns you three well deserved days to sleep late and have comforting hours without having to worry about patching wounds or chasing after criminals.
so after a night of being completely unable to move from bed because of how dizzy his head was, he's clumsily going out of the bedroom looking for you, rubbing his eyes to try and push his tiredness away because he didn't liked the feeling of waking up after you, when you had already left the bed and he isn't able to pull you closer and kiss you right away.
it's funny to see him like that, while you wait on the living room drinking a cup of coffee for him to wake up you're able to see him walk out of the room still half asleep but he looks just too cute. jason is a 6ft tall guy, big as a wall and rough but there he was, dragging his feet, his hair all fluffy and the black hoodie he wore to sleep looking messy; you can see him walk to the kitchen and he grunts softly when he sees nobody there but as soon as he turns around he spots you.
you know what jason is about to trap you under his body but damned be his long legs because you're not able to properly set your cup aside when jason is letting his weight fall over you like a tired cat "wait, baby... the coffee" you say between giggles but it's too late when your boyfriend is cuddling himself into your arms, hugging your waist and nuzzling his face against your neck "good morning, jay"
"g' morning, princess..." he mutters, voice is still hoarse but sweet as he greets you "why were you out of bed?" jason asks, kissing softly a small trail in your neck as you wrap one of your legs around his waist.
"were you looking for me, love? i thought about making breakfast for you before you woke up..." you say softly, trying to move and lean a bit to leave your cup on the table but failing when he just cuddles more into your chest making you chuckle softly "you looked so pretty sleeping i couldn't wake you up... are you still tired, red?" and that nickname makes him grin goofily, he loves the way it sounds when you call him that and even more as you keep babying him with soft pecks on his forehead.
"i feel like i could sleep for a month... but only if you're there with me" jason's voice is a low rumble, his words sending shivers through her spine and that mixed with how sweet it was knowing that he wanted you by his side even when his last months as the red hood had been so tiring.
"want to make breakfast with me and then we go eat on bed? we could watch a movie, does that sound good?" you ask him, reaching to cup jason's face between your hands and pressing a soft kiss on his lips which he gladly accepts with a soft purr leaving his throat.
he nods and you can swear he's never looked so calm before, so well rested and it was just what he needed more than anything. jason was sure he had done a lot of harm and there would be days when he didn't feel like deserving you but right now, having his sweet girlfriend to look at him like he hung up the moon and stars makes him feel worthy of love and care, even the big bad red hood deserved to be babied after all.
"then let's go, big guy" you say, starting to squirm in a failed attempt to slide from under jason's body and he chuckles at it before moving with you on his arms, picking your body up and walking to the kitchen as he lets soft kisses fall to your cheeks and neck before putting you back down.
and the morning goes like that, jason wishes he could get more of this. the way you walk around the kitchen as he tries to help, pouting softly when you don't let him do everything because he has to rest, he loves the warmth he feels on his chest as you walk past him and he pulls you back to steal a kiss from your lips before you try to walk away only to end up with him clinging to your back, kissing the top of your head as you cook.
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heyyy can u pls do sfw/nsfw matt with tough gf😮‍💨😮‍💨
Tough- M. Sturniolo
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pairing: Tough!reader x Boyfriend!Matt
classification: SFW & NSFW head cannons
inspiration: request^^
warnings: some 18+ content, use of y/n, established relationship
summary: head cannons of Matt with a tough girlfriend!
☆SFW
For your entire life you’ve been classified using one word: tough. You’re extremely resilient, stubborn, and hardworking, and these are all qualities Matt loves about you.
☆ You refuse to ask for help, even when you desperately need it and most times Matt doesn’t even know you needed help to begin with.
☆ A flat tire stares back at you, taunting and challenging you to change it.
☆ You roll up your sleeves and throw your hair up in a pony tail, gathering the tools necessary to swap the tire out.
☆ Sweat is dripping down your face and glistening against your shoulders. “Babe? What are you doing?” Matt asks, watching tentatively from the porch.
☆ “Changing this damn tire,” you grunt, tightening the last bolt before throwing the wrench back into the tool box.
☆ You prefer comfort so your wardrobe is a mix between girly and tomboy, consisting mainly of graphic t-shirts and baggy jeans.
☆ “I’m ready,” you say, hopping off the last step as you enter the living room.
☆ Matt leans against the couch, peering behind him to catch a glimpse of you. “Is that my shirt?” he asks, getting up to examine your outfit better.
☆ “Yup. Let’s go, we’re gonna be late,” you reply, placing a cap over your straightened hair and adjusting your plethora of necklaces.
☆ “She lowkey got that shit on though,” Chris chuckles from beside Matt, earning himself a playful push.
☆ Sometimes you don’t measure your words or your tone, forgetting that you’re talking to your boyfriend and not one of your ‘homies.’
☆ When the conversation is normal, he ignores it. But when your tone meanders into rude territory, he immediately puts an end to it.
☆ “Dude, what the fuck?! I cleaned that shit yesterday! How is it already dirty, bro?” you exclaim, hands pointing accusatorially at Matt.
☆ “I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just talk to me like that,” he responds, jaw clenched. “Let’s start over, yeah?”
☆ You take a deep breath, exhaling all your anger before replying, “Babe, what the heck?! I cleaned that thing yesterday! How is it already dirty, baby?”
☆ Matt knows you threw the pet names in there for show, but he appreciates you trying, even if it is laced with sarcasm.
☆ You’re insanely strong and when you’re not at home or at work, you’re at the gym.
☆ “I’ll be back in like an hour, okay? We can order something for dinner when I get back,” you peck Matt’s check, slinging your duffel back over your shoulder.
☆ “Hmm okay,” he murmurs, delivering a quick slap to your ass.
☆ Matt’s grateful that you aren’t overly affectionate in public, mostly because he’s extremely reserved and prefers to keep your relationship private.
☆ The most you’ll do is hold his hand, hug him, or kiss his cheek. Sometimes you’ll be even less affectionate when around his friends and siblings.
☆ That doesn’t mean you don’t mark your territory though, especially when you get jealous.
☆ “Hi baby,” your voice is high-pitched and excited, a very unusual mix coming from you. You cling to Matt’s side as another girl tries chatting him up.
☆ “Hi,” he replies, wrapping an arm around you and resting his hand on your ass. He’s slightly confused, but quickly realizes you’re jealous.
☆ When you start kissing, the girl finally gets the hint and leaves. “Dumb bitch,” you grumble, pulling away from Matt slightly.
☆ He chuckles and pulls you back in, showing you he only has eyes for you.
☆ “Need help?” Matt asks from behind you, watching as you struggle to reach something from the top shelf.
☆ “Nope. Almost got it,” you reply, your tongue poking out in concentration.
☆ Matt pushes against your backside, wrapping a strong arm around your waist as he reaches over you.
☆ “Here,” he hands the item to you, watching the frustration leave your face.
☆ Arguments, although they’re few and far between, can escalate very quickly between you two.
☆ You’re both stubborn, so no matter what you always believe you’re right.
☆ Angry, hurtful words are exchanged and before you know it you’re both storming off in opposite directions.
☆ You’re not one to cry easily, but if the argument is frustrating enough the tears will start flowing.
☆ “Y/n?” Matt asks tentatively, peering into your shared bedroom to find you curled up under the blankets. Your small sniffles fill the room.
☆ A frown forms on his face as he joins you under the covers, immediately you pulling into him. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, pecking your forehead. “Me too,” you hiccup, burying your face in his chest.
☆ You’re not afraid to slap Matt’s ass, especially after he does it to you.
☆ At first he used to hate it, but now he knows to expect it.
☆ Usually you’ll sneak your hand into the back pocket of his pants afterwards, walking around like that no matter where you are.
☆ A long list of to-do’s is constantly forming in your mind, even on your days off, and you’re not afraid to get bossy so it can all get done.
☆ “Matt, you mow the lawn and wash the cars. I’ll clean the house and do the laundry,” you instruct.
☆ “So bossy,” he laughs.
☆ “Or you can just do all of it?” you suggest with a quirked brow and a sassy hand on your hip. “No ma’am, I’m going.”
☆ “Mhm that’s what I thought.”
☆NSFW
Your tough girl attitude can sometimes get you in trouble, earning you punishments that put you in your place.
☆ When you’re together in private, Matt sees a side of you that you never show the world.
☆ You’re sweet and soft, juxtaposing the tough girl demeanor you usually display. If you ever act up in public, though, Matt is quick to remind you of this when you’re in private.
☆ “Wanna act stupid? Yeah?” He grunts, hips rocking against you at an ungodly pace.
☆ You whimper, too fucked out to respond. “That’s what I fucking thought,” his harsh words are followed by a hand wrapping around your throat.
☆ Your smart mouth is usually what gets you in trouble. “You think you look cute talking to me like that? Embarrassing me in front of all our friends?”
☆ He holds a firm grip of your face, forcing you to make eye contact as you reply with a hum.
☆ That’s enough for him to shove you into the bed, face down ass up. He slips into you without hesitation, hips snapping so harshly against your skin that the sound echoes throughout the room.
☆ “Not gonna stop until you learn your lesson,” he growls, pulling your hair into a ponytail and using it as leverage to fuck you harder.
☆ The pleasure is so good that you don’t even want it to stop, you just use your smart remarks to egg him on.
☆ Other times, your attitude travels into the bedroom and you have Matt beneath you completely overstimulated.
☆ “Y/n— fuck! I can’t anymore,” his words are choked, his eyes squeezing shut as he tries to focus on lasting longer.
☆ “Yes you can baby, I know you can” you purr, rocking your hips back and forth on his cock.
☆ Without another warning, his hips are stuttering as his hot cum paints your walls. That was his fourth orgasm and you show no signs of stopping soon.
☆ He loves teasing you because he knows you’ll get riled up enough to dominate him.
☆ He’s leaned against the headboard, eagerly awaiting your next move.
☆ You crawl over to him, situating yourself over his crotch. Instinctively, his hands travel to your hips, a firm grip pushing you down on his erection.
☆ A tsk escapes your lips, “You’re not gonna get what you want that easily, baby. You’re gonna have to work for it.”
☆ Your words put him in a trance and he’s ready to comply to your every command.
MASTERLIST
A/n: she (me) is not tuff - L.A.M.B👼🏻💗
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mvth3r · 2 months
Text
thinking about you and daryl having matching tattoos..
warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut under the cut, light dirty talk, oral sex (fem receiving)
a/n: this was supposed to be fluffy and sweet, but i genuinely can't help myself. enjoy anyway!
the conversation comes up in the prison a few months after the governor had ran off. things had calmed considerably and the group was gathered at one of the tables late one evening. planning for a run had dissolved shortly into telling stories and cracking jokes.
glenn, who turned towards you and daryl with an easy smile, mentioned it first, announcing, "you know, i always wanted to get a couple of tattoos, but i kept chickening out in college."
daryl scoffed playfully, "prob'ly for tha best. needle woulda made ya cry."
you laughed beside him, "like you did?" daryl nudged your shoulder, his grin teasing,
"musta got us mixed up, girl. you was the one doin' all tha cryin'.”
carl piped up before you could respond, "you have tattoos too? i've seen daryl's, but i've never seen yours!"
you laughed, nodding your head. carl was still a young boy, so you weren't surprised at his interest. he wasn't the only one, though, you noted, as rick, glenn, and maggie stared at you in shock right alongside him.
you smiled indulgently, reaching down to tug the hem of your shirt up, exposing a small tattoo of a rabbit on your ribcage when you twisted to the side.
"¡ have a few more," you released your shirt, waving your hand in a vague gesture, "they're all pretty small, though."
"you and daryl have matching ones," carl stated, his smile wide, "that's really cool."
carol, who was seated on daryl's other side, nudged the hunter with a teasing smile, "how sweet."
"whatever," daryl grunted, shrugging carol off him, but the the redness warming the tips of his ears and the smile he couldn't quite keep away betrayed his false ire.
laughs rang out around the small table, the conversation continuing on past tattoos to other musings about the world before. you leaned into daryl's side, jumping in occasionally, but otherwise content to sit in good company.
and when daryl's hand crept over and started moving slowly up and down your thigh, you just turned to hide your smile in his shoulder.
you already knew what he was thinking about.
later, after everyone had called it a night and made their way to their cells, you found yourself spread over you and daryl's shared cot.
daryl laid between your thighs. he'd tugged your jeans down and off as soon as you'd dropped the privacy sheet, leaving you in a small pair of black panties.
his eyes were trained on your lower hip bone, where another tattoo, this one of his name, sat scrawled in black, loopy print.
daryl pressed kisses to your thighs, mumbling,
"ain't tell 'em 'bout this one, girl."
you hummed quietly, trying not to shift as you felt yourself start to heat up at the tone of his voice,
"didn't need to."
daryl didn't respond, instead brushing his finger over the tattoo before following it with his tongue.
your answering whine made him grin. he didn't stop with his kisses, still peppering them over your thighs, but his fingers did hook under the hem of your panties, sliding them to the side just enough to expose you.
dary's groan was guttural as he took you in, glistening from your own wetness, "damn right you didn't. 's just for me, ain't it?"
"yeah, d," you mumbled, suddenly overwhelmed with the proximity, his unrelenting gaze on you,
"got it just for you, baby."
daryl's eyes were glazed when they flicked up from your wet cunt to meet yours. he loved that fucking tattoo, had since you got it way back when. it made him a little crazy, seeing you branded with his name, and all just because you wanted to.
he descended onto you with fervor, moans coming from you both as he licked broad strokes up your slit. your hand slid through his dark locks, holding him to you as he did.
through the haze of pleasure, your mind drifted back to the tattoo. you'd get a hundred more if you could, if it meant seeing daryl light up at the sight. that was everything.
your head cocked back when daryl's lips closed over your clit, sucking hard. you could feel his fingers swirling around your entrance as well, but you were acutely aware that his other hand hadn't moved from where it rested over your hip bone.
you reached down to intertwine your fingers with his, content to fall back into the bliss he was giving you once more.
your man, your daryl, a lover through and through.
and you knew this because, just as his name sat immortalized on the skin of your hip, yours was stamped permanently over his heart.
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