Tumgik
#let's get buck a couch
queenmayor23 · 11 months
Text
Happy anniversary Mr. Diaz
"Hey, Y/N. What's up?"
"Eddie. I need your help."
"Is everything okay? You're not hurt, are you?"
"Yeah, no. Just come over, please."
After waiting, there's a knock on the door. Y/N answers it in his robe and invites Eddie inside. "I was about to take a shower, and that's when I saw it."
"Saw what?"
Y/N's eyes avoid Eddie, making him more suspicious. "You won't believe me. You need to go in there and see for yourself. It's in my bathroom."
Eddie slowly walks into the apartment and into Y/N's room, opening the door to his bed covered in rose petals and lit candles all around the room.
"Y/N, I don't see anything."
Eddie turns around to Y/N in a sexy police officer costume.
"Dispatch, be advised we have a 10-70 in progress. Stand by with additional RA Units. Fire is already on scene."
Y/N slowly walked toward Eddie, who looked him up and down like a piece of raw meat dangled for a hungry lion. 
"¡Ay, caramba!"
"You like?" Y/N reaches out his hand, and Eddie takes it in his own, spinning Y/N around and pulling him in with his other hand on his waist. Their lips connect. Eddie bites Y/N's bottom lip, refusing to let go until he gets his hands on the costume handcuffs on Y/N's utility belt. Eddie's hands found themselves resting on Y/N's waist, and Y/N's were around Eddie's neck where they had been many nights before.
"Happy anniversary Mr. Diaz."
"Happy anniversary to you too, Mr. Diaz. Did you set all of this up?"
"This, yes. But I had help in other departments."
"So Hen and Karen deciding to have a slumber party and inviting Christopher for the weekend-"
"My idea, Karen enforced."
"This outfit?"
"One of Buck's Halloween party ideas. He had the firefighter, I had the cop, and we bought you a biker."
"Of course Buck had something to do with it. Why isn't he here too?"
"We decided that since he gets you all day at work, I get you tonight, and after our shifts, Bobby is going to cook us a wonderful dinner at your place where we will have a full night of alone time just the three of us."
Y/N kisses Eddie again, their hands tightening.
"My husband and boyfriend plotting against me? I like it."
"Now, all we have to do is get a couch for Buck's place."
"And tell Christopher we're married."
"If we do that, I'm gonna have to move in."
"I think I can handle that."
"Oh yeah? That means no more nights of debauchery that last until sunrise."
"But I get to sleep in the same bed as the man I love, he can sit on my lap whenever he wants rubbing my bulge on his ass, and I can kiss you over and over until I get sick. Then you can take care of me, and we can start again."
Eddie takes the handcuffs and confines Y/N's hands behind his back. Eddie guides Y/N to the bed, lifting him to have his face in the pillows and the skin-tight black shorts pointing to the roof. Ripping off his shirt and jumping out of his jeans, Eddie notices the number of candles lit around the room.
"You're lucky I am a firefighter because we are one wind gust away from a five-alarm fire."
"Maybe we could put them to good use while they're still hot."
Eddie smiles. "I love the way you think, Mr. Diaz."
Tumblr media Tumblr media
166 notes · View notes
nigellica · 14 days
Text
I love the big, ridiculous, dramatic disasters on 9-1-1, but I'd really love to see an episode where they don't go to a single call.
And I don't mean, the focus is elsewhere and we just don't see the calls. I mean they don't get a single call. Like the opposite of the quiet episode.
I want like, Buck climbing the walls, Eddie trying to pretend he isn't also bored out of his mind. Hen trying to be responsible and do responsible things but getting sucked into shenanigans. Bobby suspicious he gets to cook and eat an entire meal. Maybe Chim trying to avoid a conversation with someone and having to find excuses around the station to escape. Or begging Maddie to send them literally any job so he doesn't have to listen to Buck whining (especially when Tommy can barely respond to his texts because he's so busy).
And maybe they get one call and everyone rushes to get ready, gets in the trucks to go and then.... Slowly and sadly reverse back into the shed when they're stood down because another unit is closer.
I want them running out of things to clean, playing stupid games like fuck, marry or kill, doing personality quizzes ('Which animal are you? Buck and Cap both got golden retrievers!'). Just... The levels of stupidity they could get into with nothing else to do.
(And Bobby somehow gets an entire month's worth of paperwork done before he emerges into the disaster that is the firehouse, smoke alarm going off, feathers everywhere for some reason and just the entire 118 looking like guilty puppies)
382 notes · View notes
figofswords · 1 month
Text
the post grad why did i get an art degree what am i even doing what do i want in life where am i going crisis has finally hit i want to. lie down in the dirt. or something
#WHAT AM I DOING!!!!#i get up i go to my stupid retail job i stick labels on bags they pay me fucking thirteen bucks an hour i come home i lie on the couch#too tired to draw in too much pain to go anywhere no energy to reach out to college friends to do anything fun#no idea where the even start with getting an industry job no clue what i even WANT at this point#trying to remember what i loved so much about comics i want it BACK i HATE this#WHAT IS THE POINT!!!! WHAT DO I WANT WHERE AM I GOING!!! WHAT COMES NEXT!!!!!!#there's no clear career trajectory i can't do freelance i need structure i can't work too much i need free time#my brain doesn't work every job requires me to move across the country the irs just took fucking three hundred stupid dollars from me#my friends live in different states i can't get a job without experience i can't get experience without a job#i can't work on my portfolio with no energy and no time and i dont have any money and everything is so expensive all the time#i can't get anywhere bc i dont drive and im too stressed to think about taking driving lessons again#and WHAT DO I WANT!#THE MOST INTERESTING THING I DO EVERY WEEK IS GO TO PHYSICAL THERAPY!#I AM EXCITED EVERY WEEK FOR PHYSICAL THERAPY!!!! WHY!!!!!!!!#anyway WHATEVER i need to go to bed#delete later#i got into spx. today. so. had to have a crisis about how i felt when i attended spx (energized. excited. a part of something. ambitious)#versus how i feel now (tired. unmotivated. kind of apathetic about art. disconnected)#i dont miss the stress of school but i miss being around other artists. ppl who speak your language and who want the same things you want#ppl who are excited abut art and that makes YOU excited about art. ppl who get you#i miss that i want that back#whatever. its 1am i gotta go shower i have an 8.5 hour shift tomorrow. wahoo. $13.50/hr lets go
31 notes · View notes
ilostyou · 1 year
Text
so i know we're all caught on the couch being a metaphor for Bigger Things but all i've been thinking about is how buck very well may just be scared of sleeping when he's alone but he's comfortable enough with eddie that he finally just. sleeps like he's been meaning to. bc even subconsciously he knows he doesn't have to worry he knows he's safe with eddie
16 notes · View notes
mikereads · 2 years
Text
Yes you can connect how couches for Buck means a romantic relationship. How that connects with Eddie’s couch and what it means for Buck. You can also talk about how Bucks couch connects to the Diaz boys. Chris sitting on it or near it after the tsunami arc. Eddie calling him “his Buck” as he gave his son a hug. How the scene implies Buck has watched Chris many times prior. How they hugged on it after Chris ran to Buck. There movie/ game nights like the one tonight. Like the scene in tonights episode. Chris has been on that couch many times which screams just how close they are. So of course he would mention it cause sure it’s a joke but he probably also wonders why Buck doesn’t have a couch. I would bet money the Diaz boys were never over when Tks couch was there. So yeah it effects all three of them. I bet he’s been on Bucks old couch just as much as his own. Yeah Buck needs to be alone at the moment but the chair is only temporary. He won’t be alone forever. Eddie and Chris playing scrabble after doing so earlier in the episode at Bucks. I just feel like both scenes will be coming back later on full circle. All three of them aren’t ready yet but when they are wow.
24 notes · View notes
kleftiko · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
❦ HOW TO GIVE HEAD
Tumblr media
cw: mature, sexual content, blowjobs, swearing
here are the tips i give my friends so that they get 10/10 sloppy top ratings
Tumblr media
"baby~" you coo from beside him on the couch.
the corner of choso's lips lift slightly in response, but his eyes still focus on the screen of his phone.
"babe~" you call again. "cho~"
although your voice is the most beautiful sound he's ever heard in his life, your boyfriend grants you mercy and finally answers you.
"yes, baby?" he asks softly, eyes not leaving his phone but the small smile still on his face. he can't see the beautiful, but maniacal, grin on your lips.
"teach me how to give a blowjob~"
the tendons in his hand tighten, nearly cracking the poor device between his fingers. besides his entire body going rigid, his eyes lock onto yours, only to nearly lose himself in the look of lust in your gaze.
"y-you can't just ask that shit with a smile on your face!" your boyfriend sputters, cheeks and neck blooming with a harsh blush.
"but who else am i supposed to ask?" your question is just too pure and innocent for the look in your face, and yet, choso can't help but fall victim to you.
"fine, just-fine." he takes a tense breath before saying "sit."
with a little too much enthusiasm, you kneel on the floor between his legs, hands gently resting atop your thighs. you look like a doll to him, so eager to please and so pretty that his cock would twitch even if he didn't know what was going to happen next.
he runs a hand over his face.
"fuck, baby, don't look so eager." his deep voice is muffled behind his fingers.
you giggle. "can't help it."
"'kay, now—um—fuck." choso pinches his nose for a second, gathering his own courage to say, "you're gonna need, like, a lot of spit." while he speaks, your fingers dance across the waistband of his sweatpants, littering his v-line with goosebumps as you free his half hard cock from his boxers.
"it needs to be messy, yea?" you look up at him and lick your lips, coating them with a shine that.
he nods silently, jaw clenched.
"t-then, you're gonna wanna -fuck!" you don't let him finish when you take a lick against his tip. the rough texture of your tongue dulled by the coating of saliva you gathered across it. as you continue to pleasure him, he lets out a low groan of satisfaction, his grip tightening on the edge of the couch. the intensity in his eyes tells you that he's enjoying every moment, encouraging you to take him further down your throat.
"fuck." he whines, taking note of your comfortability, just like always. "breath through your nose."
your head bobs up, taking a breath through your nose now that your throat is clear. swirling the tip of his cock with your tongue, you tease him with slow, deliberate strokes. his hips buck involuntarily, a desperate plea for more. the taste of his precum on your tongue only fuels your desire to please him further.
"the tip-the tip, baby." your tongue pays special attention to the slit at the top of his pretty dick that's leaking absurd amounts of precum, and your boyfriend squeaked out a small, "yes, fuck."
as you continue to focus on pleasuring him, you eagerly comply with his request, intensifying your attention on the sensitive tip of his throbbing member. the combination of his desperate pleas and the taste of his precum drives you to further explore and satisfy him, ensuring his pleasure remains at the forefront of your mind.
"b-balls."
your manicured hands cup his balls. you gently massage and caress them, feeling their weight in your palms. the soft moans escaping his lips encourage you to continue, as you use the pads of your fingers and palms to fondle them.
"oh fuck."
it feels like a shame to waste your nails, so with one of them abandoning your boyfriend's sensitive balls, it creeps up to his v-line. You trace teasing circles along his v-line, feeling the shivers of anticipation ripple through his body. the combination of your delicate touch and the sensation of your nails grazing his skin heightens his arousal, making him tremble with desire.
the combination of all your minstrastions causes choso to buck against you, whimpering out obscenities as he jumbles out a warning of going to cum.
"fuck!" he whimpers as your lips release him.
spurts of cum fly into the air, landing in splats across choso's thighs, pants, and your hands as you lazily jerk him off.
the fucked out expression on his face and the mess he made of himself all because of your doing just made you crave him even more, so with one last move, you gave his angry, red, tip a soft lick, nearly causing him to cry in ecstasy.
when he calmed down, he gave you a look.
"you've done this before."
Tumblr media
9K notes · View notes
fairy-angel222 · 25 days
Text
Older bf! Nanami sitting with his legs spread wide, leaning back into the couch’s back rest as his hand rests on your head. His tie loose around his neck and his shirt’s top buttons undone. Breathy groans getting louder as you so took him down your throat. Looking up through your lashes to see him panting heavily with his head thrown back.
“R-really know how to make a man- o-oh fuckk sweetheart.” He husked, your tongue swirling around his reddening tip before bobbing down along his length. Sucking your way back up his prominent veins before starting all over.
Nanami’s hips bucked up into your face, cock twitching within your mouth’s warm embrace as a deep rumble sounded in his chest. “Fuck. That mouth of yours is so— haah.. perfect.” You blinked up at him innocently, your hands reaching up to play with his balls all wet n’ sticky from your spit.
Your giggle was muffled when you watched his cheeks dust red, muscles bulging through his work shirt as his chest rose and fell. Grip on your head tightening when he was brought closer to his release. Letting out a small hum of your name before spilling into your throat. Watching as you licked everything off his girth before swallowing with a smile.
You had made him horny. Using his tie to bound your hands behind your back. Fucking into you from behind with a string of grunts. His fat cock stretching you out wide as you cry and moan loudly. Feeling him reach so deep while kissing your spot meanly.
Your skirt had been flung up onto your waist. Your panties only being pulled to side in a fit of pure need. Sopping pussy making a mess on his cock as the thoughts were fucked out of you. Nanami having gave himself easier access to trap his cum inside you when he was done. Planning to simply snap the pink lace back over your leaking folds.
“Nngh— Kento, s-so go-od daddy.” You mewled, drooling into the sheets with your back arched, your ass in the air allowing his tip to prod at your cervix entrance with each thrust.
“Hmm, you like that sweetheart? Pussy’s so nice ‘n snug. S-swallowing my cock whole.. shitt.” Neither of you could hold your noises as Nanami’s hips slammed lewdly into yours. Both your minds clouded with nothing but each other
“C’mon, ‘s my turn to make you cum now sweet girl.”
6K notes · View notes
tacticalprincess · 2 months
Note
König would whine and cum in his boxers just by eating pussy, send tweet
he’d like to say he doesn’t do it mostly for his own pleasure, but he’s never been one to lie. he’s insanely selfish when it comes to you, all of you, so of course his favorite place to be is where he can be completely engulfed by you. between your pudgy thighs, gripping them so hard the fat spills between his thick fingers, keeping you spread wide for him while he devours you like a man starved. anytime, any place, anywhere. he doesn’t need a reason; dropping to his knees and hiking one of your legs over his shoulder when look a little too pretty before you leave, pulling down your sweats while you lounge on the couch, telling you to ‘sit on your throne’ just before bed… you’re an indulgence, a sweet treat he can’t go without, and you taste like one too.
when he gets lost in the heady scent of your arousal, dizzy with the feeling of all his senses being overtaken by you, there’s no rhythm or rhyme to his movements — just sloppily dragging his fat tongue along your slick folds and suckling at your puffy clit while your hips buck skywards against his strong nose out of instinct. he’ll hump his achey cock against whatever’s available to him, cumming in his pants just from feeling the way your body reacts to him — the way your pussy squeezes his tongue when it plunges into your tight hole, how cutely you squirm against his face when you cum — let alone all the beautiful noises you make. he moans and whines like he’s the one getting head, the vibrations sending tingles up to your tummy. your pleads for him to stop, give your poor, sore cunt rest for a little bit, fall on deaf ears. just stay still, kleine hase, let your könig have his fill.
military training probably taught him to hold his breath for an extended period of time, which comes in handy, but he’ll occasionally come up for air to watch your back arch prettily off the bed, cheeks stained with tears. “one more, maus. you can give me one more, ja?” though it’s never just one more.
3K notes · View notes
katzenmas · 3 months
Text
daddy kink this daddy kink that, you are WRONG Simon Riley has a mommy kink i will die on this hill.
At first he doesn't even show it, thinks it'll scare a pretty bird like you off. Is content to play the role of the dominant man in the relationship, ignoring his own needs and urges just to make sure you are pleased.
BUT one time he comes back from a particularly rough op, his whole body is aching and he just wants to be taken care of, so you get on your knees and when you take him into your mouth he falls apart.
the tiredness is weighing down on his mind, it has him shaking and bucking his hips up and whining.
"yeah mama jus' like tha" he slurs and you suck more vigorously, the nickname igniting something in you, simon shudders and cums into your mouth, falling back on the couch with a sigh and his eyes closed, his spent cock twitches and you clean him up.
"What is it baby? want me to take care of you?" His eyes fly open when you take his softening dick into your hand and start slowly moving your wrist, overstimulation burns at his nerve endings.
" S'too much love can't take it" suddenly your hand picks up in speed, making Simon throw his head back with a deep groan.
"That's not what you called me before. Do it right baby and i will give you what you want"
Simon fights with himself, the embarrassment of you catching in on what he said burns a hole through his chest, but your hand is not letting up and it almost hurts.
"please fuck mama take care of it f'me please" you grin and slow your strokes, watching Simon fall apart below you with variations of 'mommy' falling from his lips.
"my good boy, let's get you cleaned up" Simon feels his cock twitch again at the nickname.
6K notes · View notes
bunny584 · 4 months
Text
OBSESSED: NANAMI
A/N: So sorry this is getting reposted. Tumblr got glitch-y and it went away. Hopefully the second read around is just as enjoyable!!
C/W: Breeding, Mature. 18+
Tumblr media
“You’d make such a beautiful mother.”
Nanami comes up behind you, snaking his arms around your waist. He travels up your torso to cup your tender, swollen mounds spilling over his favorite tank top.
“Ken,” you whine and wince back into him.
You’re so focused on chopping vegetables, you let him grope you. No use fighting it. If you slapped his hands away they’d be back in less than a second. Magnets to your perfect frame.
You’re ovulating.
He knows it like clock work.
You become docile. With puffy, tender breasts. And so emotional. Tears flow at a harsh breeze, much less anything else. Forgetful. Flustered. You hang off of him like perfectly cooked Lamb off a bone.
You’re ovulating. His cock is hard nearly 24 hours a day when you’re supple like this.
“Oh goddamit,” the knife comes down, loud and shrill on the marble island.
Nanami bites back a grin, he knows whatever it is is inconsequential.
“What is it, my love?” His hands trail down to your stomach. Cock beating against his thigh thinking about how pretty it’ll look swollen with his seed.
You dive your face into your hands. Crystal tears flowing from your eyes through the slim spaces of your elegant fingers. Sparkling against the Diamond engagement ring. He pulls you in tighter, unashamed of his erection now digging into your back.
“I-I forgot, I forgot the stupid basil at the store and now dinner is ruined.” More sobs. You melt back into his arms. Absolutely devastated.
“Ahhh, yes. So ruined.” His gentle teasing opens the flood gates.
The Pacific Ocean flows out of you and he’s even more fond. More turned on.
“Ken!” You scold him, turn around and dive into the crook of his neck. All in one fair motion.
“I was trying to be a good fiancé. I wanted to make this perfect. And I can’t even I can’t —“
“Shhh.” Nanami lifts you onto him. You wrap your legs around his waist. Drenching his work shirt in diamond tears.
His back hits the couch, and you’ve calmed to just baby sniffles with his constant rubbing.
“Let me take care of it.” He rasps out. Not even trying to hide his strain. You nod and bring the back of your hand to your puffy eyes.
And this is why he wants to fill you with his cum. Keep you pregnant. Soft, open. Tender hearted. Your kids would be born from the purest love.
It’s a daydream that exists on cinematic repeat in his mind. How he could change the shape of your beautiful body. Round your hips. Swell your feminine torso. Fill your breasts with nourishment for the little one you create together. It makes his cock leak and twitch and lead pipe hard. At work. At the gym. While eating. When you’re like this. Like this. He feels like an animal. Insatiable. You bring out the most primal parts of him. To provide. Protect.
Procreate.
He dreams about you staying at home, nurturing your little family. Coming home to you nourishing the baby with your gorgeous, plump…
God.
He’d drop his pants and push his cock past your pretty lips at the same time. Feed you while you’re feeding the love child he put in you.
Your sugary, soft gasp tethers him to reality. Eyes fixed on his restrained dick, begging for release.
“Kento, you’re so…” your dulcet voice trails off and you palm his length through his pants.
Nanami hisses. Unashamed of the growing stain of his precum seeping through his khaki work slacks. Not the first time.
“Let me make you a mother, baby.” His voice grazes the shell of your ear and you shudder into him.
“Ken.”
So “stern” but you keep petting his dick in the way that drives him insane. “We can’t because I think I—“
“You’re ovulating.” He finishes your thought with a buck of his hips into your hand. Greedy for more touch. More warmth.
Fine, fine. You’ve already compromised with him to stop taking the birth control and track naturally. He won’t push it. Watching how your hormones ebb and flow within your body is a privilege, so he won’t push.
For now.
“Let’s get takeout, baby.”
(PART II)
5K notes · View notes
chocolate-pies · 2 months
Text
saw the "just the tip?" trope and am GOING FERAL OVER SIMON RILEY ASKING
MDNI
holy shit it'd just be a normal sunday morning too, the weekend after he came back from a mission and you figured you already made love to him, why would he get randomly hard again the next morning around LUNCH time??
well, he's standing at the doorway to the living room. you're sitting on the couch, attention focused on the television when you hear the shuffling of his feet.
"love?" his voice sounds a little strained.
"what is it?" you'd hum, and see movement in the corner of your eye.
simon would be standing near the end of the couch, bulge painfully obvious (and at eye level with you on the couch), his eyes focused on you sitting with your calves beneath you.
"you've no idea how beautiful you look sittin' like that." he sounds a bit gravelly now, breathy.
you let out an astonished breath of air--teetering on the edge of a laugh--as you sit up straight to look at him in the eyes. "are you really horny right now? we're about to have lunch. have you been holding it since morning, or?"
"been holdin' it since we woke up." he confesses, watching you move on the couch as your thighs reshape from the movement. simon practically salivates at the way your thighs and chest heave itself as you sit upright and with your legs off the couch.
"really, riley?" you ask, albeit a little annoyed and with an edge of arousal.
"just the tip? please? 'fore we gotta get lunch." there's a pleading edge to his voice, and it instantly makes you melt.
"fine." you give in, watching as he readily lays himself on the couch. you get up as a result, watching him shove his boxers and sweatpants down, his erection springing and slapping itself against his happy trail. precum is already leaking, glistening the couple pubic hairs it has touched.
the length and girth seemed.. bigger than last night. you quietly gulp as you move to straddle his hips, your left knee brushing against the couch a bit uncomfortably.
"le'me help you, sweetheart." his voice is husky, rough hands moving to grab your thighs and positioning himself with you so you didn't scrape your knee against the fabric of the couch.
the warmth from his dick catches your attention, your eyes downcast to see it rubbing against the cloth of your pajama shorts. a wet spot is already forming there.
"already so wet for me." simon rasps, digits harshly engraving dots into your thighs as he feels every slight movement from you against his cock.
"let- let me," you steady yourself as you hover over him, dick barely touching you. your one hand moves to lift your panties and shorts to the side, his dick twitching at the sight of your cunt sopping wet so fast.
"f-fuck." his hands rub circles on your thighs, feeling your pussy folds touch the tip of his hot dick. precum is immediately mixed with your juices, his eyes strained and focused where he disappears inside of you, "so fuckin' pretty for me."
you suppress a moan as you stay hovered, his fat head already feeling like a stretch as you feel the beginnings of his girthy shaft also enter. "y-you said just- just the tip." it comes out shaky, breathy, as you moan with your teeth on your lip.
"'m sorry, doll, you just look so fuckin' delicious. your cunt is so tight and addicting." his voice is strained again, groans erupting from his chest as he bites down on nothing. his jaw flexes from the motion as he stares at your juices staining your clothing and his dick.
you stare at him for a moment, his pupils blown wide as you begin to slowly take him fully. "so, so big." you mewl, thighs beginning to shake from having to keep yourself up as his length stretches your velvet walls.
"just f'you, my love. just f'you. all f'you." he begins rambling nonsense, his mind racing and at the same time, blank, as he feels himself bottom out. your cunt is just so perfect.
"'m not pullin' out, love." he rasps before his hips buck you into the air, the extra motion forcing his dick deeper into you as his balls press against your ass.
"gonna put a baby in you." he continues, hurriedly thrusting you into the air as you bounce on him to meet his hips with your own.
"would look so pretty f'me with a baby bump," he groans, practically growling, "and everyone will know you're mine." he seems to move faster with the last bit, his hips snapping into yours as the sounds of skin slapping get louder.
at the same time, the squelching from your wet pussy begins to pierce your ears as you shut your eyes, only mewling and moaning to the sensation of his dick brutally splitting you apart. your mind is numb, lackluster of any thoughts.
"cuh- cumming." was your only warning as he thrusts up one final time, your body slouching a bit as he fills you up. his hot cum already begins to dribble from out of you, and seeing this, simon continues to thrust more into you to keep it all in.
"look at you," he breathes, eyes focused on your blissed face, "all 'cause I creampied you?" his proud grin shows a bit of teeth as he focuses how your face contorts from the pleasure.
he stills, keeping his dick inside you to trap any and all the semen he could.
"love you, doll."
2K notes · View notes
Text
Show me where it hurts (part 2)
Miguel O'Hara x spiderwoman!reader
Tumblr media
GIF by aenhanse
(AO3 Mirror), Part 1, Main Masterlist
summary: You confront Miguel.
warnings: breeding kink, cum play, animalistic behaviour (not quite ABO), mutual masturbation, dirty talk, praise and degradation, Miguel eats ass like a fucking champ, general filth etc etc. very very 18+, minors dni (and i will b blocking!) 
a/n: thank you for all the support for part 1! I will say, all the comments about relationship building and stuff do make me laugh a little bc this part is literally just p0rn with a teensy tiny bit of feelings.. but if you follow me this should be pretty standard by now.
wc: 4k ish
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You let yourself in again, but not until after pounding on the door. 
You think he's home, the scent of something in the air. At first glance, his place is empty, but a mess : cushions ripped off the couch, kitchen ransacked of its contents, floor covered in blankets and clothes. It makes you worry: Miguel is so clean it's scary . He would never leave his place like this. You hear something from his bedroom and rush towards it.
He's there, back turned on the bed. But something's wrong. In sweats and a tank top, he's breathing heavily, clutching at the sheets. 
"You shouldn't be here." He strains. 
Eyes wide, you step closer. Is he in pain? Is he hurt? "Miguel. I just want to help. Did something happen?" 
All he does is shake his head, unable to make eye contact with you. "I c-can't let you… please, bichita. It's not safe for you."
Your heart breaks at his helplessness, you get closer, and perch on the bed next to him. He jumps at the hand you place in his shoulder. Fuck. He's drenched in sweat. 
"Miguel, please. Let me in… I'd do anything. Just let me help."
He groans with his head in his hands. "I know, bichita. That's the problem. I can't let you…"
You look at him properly now. He's writhing on the sheets, tense and unable to sit still. Guiltily, all you can think is how good he looks; pretty even when his hair sticks to the nape of his neck, when he groans lowly at your presence. Your eyes rake down his body, looking for a secret wound, or something he's hiding. When you spot it, you gasp. 
Miguel is rock hard under his sweats. And he is massive. 
It clicks. Ashamed, he makes hesitant eye contact with you. "It's not usually this bad. And it gets worse if I'm near someone I'm…" He breathes. "Someone I'm attracted to."
You can't help but laugh at the absurdity of the statement; of the situation. "I think that's just what erections do, Miggy." 
He rolls his eyes, too annoyed to be as uneasy for a moment. " No , God, I meant my DNA. There's something wrong with me, something animalistic , that makes it ten times worse. I'm going crazy. Smell, taste, touch… and it doesn't just go away. "
You hum. "And what's your hypothesis?" 
He looks at you, a little crazed, but he gets it. If you talk to him like it's one of your status reports, like it's another mission, maybe he can stop thinking about pounding you into the sheets and filling you up with his cum. 
He clears his throat. " You . Gets worse when I t-think about you, or you're near."
You've got a hand on his thigh, rubbing circles that go straight to his head. 
"What makes it feel better?" 
Deep breath. "Touching myself. But I haven't… and I won't-" 
"Why?" You smile like a Cheshire cat. Are you… enjoying this? 
"I can't. You're a friend and it's a violation of your trust."
"It hurts. You're in pain. I give you full permission to give yourself some relief. You can touch yourself, for me. I want you to feel good."
His hips buck up involuntarily. Just thinking about it is driving him crazy. " Mierda. Stop talking like that-" 
"Like what?" You bat your eyelashes. 
"Like that ." He hisses. "Like you want to get fucked."
He squeezes his eyes shut, even more guilty. "I'm sorry. That's not appropriate at all. I shouldn't have… snapped like that."
You rub your legs together: you're fucking soaked. Like this, with his senses going crazy, you don't know if he can smell it, taste it in the air. The thought makes you even wetter. 
You mumble. "Meant it, Miguel. I just want to watch."
Agonisingly slow, you sink to your knees in front of him. He watches, eyes wide, trying not to lean into it. 
"Do you want me to beg? Because I will, if it makes you feel better." 
He grabs his crotch, rocking into his palm. You're breaking him down, bit by bit. 
"I think you like punishing yourself, Miggy. You think you deserve it. How long have you been like this? Weeks, I bet. When all you needed to do was ask me. I would've helped you over the phone if you wanted it. Told you how to stroke your cock, where to put pressure, asked you if it felt good. Think about how good it would feel. The relief. "
You rock on your heel and it doesn't go unnoticed. You light him on fire, and the thought of you getting off only pushes him closer to the edge. "Can I tell you a secret?" You whisper. He nods fervently. "I've always wanted you in my mouth. Just wanted to know what it would feel like; how pretty you'd look when you cum."
It's too much. His back arches, and he groans, spilling into his sweats. Astounded, you look up. So. Much. Cum. You didn't think a person could physically produce so much, but here he is, coating the inside of his boxers with it. Miguel, however, looks embarrassed: his first orgasm in a week and it's spilling into his trousers in front of a pretty girl like a teenager. He groans, covering his flushed face. 
"Can I…?" Your eyes are wide in amazement. Shakily, he nods. 
Is it bad for you to say he looks just like you imagined? Tan, long and with a bit of girth, and under all the cum he seems well-groomed. He's still half hard, which is impressive considering the sheer amount of cum splattered everywhere. Probably, he has the prettiest cock you've ever seen. As you pull down his boxers, your very obvious glee makes him pause. 
"...you like this?" He seems genuinely confused, and it makes you giggle. You've flustered him, yet again. 
Resting a head on his thigh, you look up at him through innocent lashes. Your other hand swipes cum off his tip, making his cock jump. "Could ask you the same. You're still hard." 
"I can't believe…" He mutters. "You're gonna kill me." 
"What do you want, Miguel?" You put a hand on his length, rubbing up and down ever so slightly. "You want to get off?" 
"I want…" It makes him grunt all the same. He goes from wayward glances to looking you straight in the eyes. " You . I want you." 
"How do you want me?" Deceptively innocent, you coax his length back to full mast with your hand. 
How do you want me? There are a thousand thoughts flying through his head, and his brows tense with the weight of them. Head back, he leans into your touch. He doesn't want to scare you, with the way he's been thinking about that question long before you asked: weeks, months, years before now. You see him hesitate, and bite his lip.
Your hands still and he cries out, cursing the loss of warmth. "M'not asking again." A little softer now. "No judgement, Miggy. I just want to help." 
Deep breath. "Anyway I can. Wanna fill you up with my cum. On top. U-Underneath. Mierda. I want your mouth. I want your sweet cunt. I-" 
You silence him with a moan when you envelope his cock with your mouth. You close your eyes in bliss as you bob up and down. Just the tip, teasing , and he's already addicted. With a pop, you separate, pressing sticky kisses and kitten-licks to his shaft and torso. He can't take his eyes off of you: peeking up at him through wispy lashes, licking up his cum. 
Pretty, plump lips smack at his tip obscenely. He can't help but think about how well it suits you; mouth around his cock like something holy.  Precum pours from his slit and you lap it up, chasing his moans. Your own moans vibrate deliciously around him and he wraps a hand in your hair. Finally. You want him to enjoy this, to lean into your head-bobbing, and force your head down onto his dick. You want to feel him in the back of your throat, bullying into the warmth of your mouth and moulding you into the shape of him. 
It starts with a little pressure at the back of your neck, deceptively subtle as he rocks his hips into your face. Making eye contact, you look up and feel your pussy clench around nothing. His eyes are lidded, gorgeous, mouth slightly parted and tongue darting out to wet rosy lips. 
"You want it, hermosa ?" His voice has a different texture to it: deep and wanting and needy. 
As best you can, you nod, humming affirmations around his cock. Oh God, of course you do. You want him; anyway you can, anyway he'll let you, more than he'll ever know. 
He pushes you down, hard, cock hitting the back of your throat like a piston. You gurgle and choke around him, throat tightening in a way that makes him melt. You force yourself deeper, hot tears welling up at the corners of your eyes. Your hands claw at his thighs, nails digging so tight into the fabric you think he might bleed. Winding a hand down to your heat, you press your palm into that sweet spot at your clit and Miguel watches, hungry. 
"Oh fuck , you feel so good. I'm gonna– m-mierda – m'gonna cum."
With a final tug, he pushes you down so your nose brushes at the curly hairs leading down to his cock, spilling into you with vigour. It pours down your throat and you drink it up with pleasure. 
"All gone?" He asks, panting with exertion. In response, you open up your mouth, sticking out your pink tongue so he can inspect it. He stirs when he realises just how cock drunk you are: nary a trace of him left on your tongue.
Slowly, he brings a thumb to your mouth, and watches intently as you swirl it around, and suck on it keenly. The pressure makes him light headed, other hand reaching for your waist to pull you up. And pull you up he does, turning you around so he can take off your suit and have you seated on his lap, where you belong. 
You let him, shrugging off the top half of the suit as he pulls down your zipper. Surprisingly gentle, he traces the slope of your shoulders, and down to your bare ass. He groans. No underwear, because of course , you want to kill him. You want him to die, pussy-whipped and half-hard. He pushes you towards the wall, back pressed flush against him. He drags his fangs across your neck and whispers into the shell of your ear, making your whole body shiver. 
"Once I start," He kneads your ass, grinding his cock against you. You gasp. He's still hard. "M'not gonna be able to stop. And it's not going to be sweet, bichita . You leave now and I won't be angry . I–I'll give you space, whatever you want."
" Miguel," Head back, you moan into his touch, dragging his hand towards your slit, hoping he’ll relieve the pressure at your pussy. "I want it to hurt. I want to feel it tomorrow– fuck– f-feel it when I walk and know it was you . Need it. Need you , please-" 
He bites into your shoulder, and you moan wantonly, back arching into his length. He places your hand on the wall, palms flat. Like the chaser after a burning shot, he soothes haphazard squeezes down your back with his mouth. Hot, messy kisses, as he sinks to his knees. He forces you to hinge at the hip.  Breasts pushed against the cool wall, you gasp when you feel him spread the globes of your ass as he presses his tongue to your hole. He licks the length of your slit, and like a slut, you lean into it. 
"Prettiest cunt I've ever seen, hermosa." He brings his hand to your clit, giving you a wet slap as he watches you shudder. Again, and again, until you cry out. 
" Miguel, fuuuck." 
How has he gone his whole life without hearing you say his name like that? Yet again, he almost cums in his pants, loosely shoved over his aching length. All he can do is watch as your holes flutter and clench around nothing, mesmerised. 
"You'd look even prettier filled with my cum, hmm?" He presses a sticky kiss to your puckered asshole, before easing his tongue inside. One hand holding you open, the other comes to play with your pussy, swirling your wetness around your throbbing clit. 
He tongue-fucks you with fervour, like a man starved: only coming up for air to babble obscenities. 
"Tan bonita, bichita." Slowly, he eases his fingers into your cunt, scissoring them open and shut. He wants to break you apart with only his hands, if you'd let him. "So pretty– fuck. So soft, baby. Beautiful."
You're close and he knows it, fucking yourself on his fingers and face like a bitch in heat. Undeterred, he brings a thumb to your clit pressing down with juust the right amount of pressure. 
"Wanna feel it, hermosa . Can you cum for me? All over my fingers like a good girl, just like that, así de simple."
With the way he paws at your pussy, all you can do is clench around his fingers. He guides you through a shaking, biting orgasm, licking up your cum with a flourish. Even with shaky legs you manage to turn around and pull Miguel up, and he follows eagerly. He looks fucked out already, eyes low and lips swollen with your slick. He motions to strip, stretching his tank top across the expanse of his chest and letting his cock spring free from his sweats. When you move to help him, he stops you, moving your hand from his tank to his solid torso beneath. He wants you to touch him; to feel your soft palm run across his skin, and sink into the warmth of your body. 
One hand at your waist, he presses you against the wall, grinding his cock to your clit. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and they fit like they belong there. Close, impossibly close, and his pupils are blown, wide. It's like he can't decide what he wants to do to you, sharp red eyes darting over your lips, your neck, down to the juncture where you both meet. A paralysis of choice, and all he can do is drink you up in the low light. 
And so, you make a choice for him, lips crashing against his, hand snaking around to guide his cock into your hole. He sinks into you - finally - and you swallow his moans in the aftermath. He's slow to start, eyes screwed shut as he gets used to how tight you are around him. Slowly, he rocks into you, the heat of his palm steady at the crook of your back. 
Miguel opens his eyes, caging you in with his other arm. He's testing the waters, angling his hips to find the spot that makes you tick.
"I didn't-" He breathes. "Didn't think it would be like this." 
You look at him in your haze, brows knitted. 
"I thought that when I finally fucked you, it would be more romantic." He gives you a strained chuckle and warm smile. "This is better in some ways, though." 
"Better , Miggy?" 
"Real." Your cunt flutters around him, and his pace stutters. Not once does he break eye contact, something swirling beneath the surface. "Not in my head. God , that sounds pathetic."
You giggle into the crook of his shoulder. It shouldn't be possible, but his eyes soften even more. And then, his expression changes into something dangerous. 
"I can't do this just once, bichita. You can't give me a taste and then take it away. Es cruel, mi vida."
As if to punctuate his point, you feel his tip slam into that spongy spot in your walls. His strokes become more calculated, punishing and exact, sending waves of pleasure radiating throughout your body. 
"Miguel – fuck– that's not fair- " 
"Can't keep humping my hand como un perro , like a dumb dog, anymore." He brings both his palms to your ass, spreading you apart, and pulling you up onto his dick so your toes barely touch the floor. The slap of your ass against his thighs and heavy balls fill the room, pornographic in nature. 
"Let-" Smack. " Me-"  Smack. " Fill-" Smack. " This-" Smack. " Cunt. " Smack. 
You babble into his ears, affirmations and praise that makes his heart and cock swell. 
'So pretty, Miguel. Yours. All yours." You rake your hands through his hair, harshly tugging him closer in a way that makes him burn up. Clenching around his length, you wrap your legs around his waist. He barely falters, pulling away from the wall and slamming into you regardless. You've seen him like this before; fiery determination that flares up on a tough mission. Tunnel vision: a razor-sharp resolve that has manifested itself in a man hellbent on your pleasure. 
"Miguel. Miguel, I-" I love you, I love you, I love you, I- " -wan' you to cum with me. Deep, please."
Now, his pace gets sloppy, hips stilling to drive himself as deep as you asked; so you can feel him long after you separate. Hot, sticky cum pumps into you and his balls strain with the effort of it. You claw your hand against his back, trailing delicious marks with your nails. When you clamp around him, you swear you see his eyes roll back - lost in the bliss of your cunt. Together, you come down from the high, bare chests panting against one another. 
"Don't look at me like that." His lips graze yours, soft and plush. You stretch your chin upwards, chasing the trace of a kiss he refuses to give to you. Eventually he relents, leaning into a sweet kiss, arm wrapped around your waist. 
He pulls himself off of you with a wet smack, gently carrying you to his bed. He places you in his sheets and you look beautiful, blissful, and fucked out. Cum drips onto your thighs and he feels a pang of possessiveness. His cum. His baby.
Clambering in to spoon you, he can't help but paw at your pussy, using his fingers to stuff his cum back into you, tracing lazy circles on your thigh with his other hand. 
"I'm on birth control, Miggy. So no need to worry." You snuggle into his touch, bare skin against one another. 
"Wasn't worried." He grunts, sounding almost disappointed. You catch his tone, intrigued.
"No harm in trying," You lilt, turning around to place your palms flat on the wide span of his chest. "You wanna fuck a baby into me?" 
Nodding, he groans, head back into the pillow, and you push him onto his back. Pussy throbbing, you straddle his hips; thighs tight around his middle. You can feel him growing harder in the slick of your slit. 
You arch into him, tender hand around his throat. It's a sight he won't forget easily: you on top of him, the gloom of the night tracing the swell of your tits. An angel, all the same. You whisper something into his ear that gives him goosebumps; a full body chill that goes straight to his cock. "My turn, bichito."
~~~
"You never called." Miguel says, laying his head next to yours, after wiping you down with a clean towel. He hands you a spare shirt of his, and you put it on, self-conscious. 
The two of you had fucked well into the night, making good on your promises. His stamina was relentless, pumping load after load into you, pussy-drunk and babbling. There was an intensity there that couldn't be explained: one that made both of you crazy for one another, burning you out between the silky sheets of his bed. Something you had initially attributed to his rut, whatever he had called it, but desperately hoped it was something more. How could this be just sex? After everything you had said and done, it would crush you: to taste the forbidden fruit and have it snatched away just as easily. 
You had both laid there for a bit, afterwards, cock softening in you. Plugging up his cum, he had said, but it felt more intimate in the quiet calm of his bedroom. 
"You didn't either." You throw back at him. 
"That's not th-" 
"I know, I know. It just felt weird, s'all." You turn from him, looking up at the ceiling. Counting the mottles and marks in your head, suddenly shy. After all the filthy things you've said and done to him, he still makes you shy. "I thought I did something wrong."
His heart breaks. "No, no , it wasn't-" 
"Not just today. Last time…a-and the time before that, honestly. We see each other less. You're always busy with something. Felt like you were avoiding me." Rubbing your temples, you sigh. "S'why I cut some corners on the mission. Made mistakes. I thought if I did well, and we had something to talk about…"
"Mierda." You can't bring yourself to look at him, to see the disappointment in his scarlet eyes. But it isn't disappointment, and it’s not directed at you. 
"I wanted to call, but I didn't. Because I didn't think you would answer." Finally, you turn to see his brows knitted: swirling with shame, guilt, sadness. Quickly you add, "I mean, I know why now. I think. And it's really on me, I should've said something or-" 
"I just… I didn't know what to do with it." He takes your hand in his, squeezing tight. 
"...I don't understand."
"All this love I have for you." He says, impossibly soft. "I didn't know what to do with it."
You know him like the back of your hand and you've heard it all: angry, snarky, giddy, beautiful Miguel O'Hara. But this? Confirmation of the feelings you've held for years at this point, dismissed during late nights and pored over during lonely ones - this? 
"And I didn't think you felt the same way, how could you? You're beautiful, and smart, and you have this… way of making people burn as bright as you. So I poured myself into work. That's all I know how to do, bichita. Work. Suffocate under everything. You don't deserve it."
With the way he says it; resigned, matter-of-fact; you want to cry. Still, he hangs on to the notion that he must earn it : that his claws are too sharp and fangs too bloody for redemption. For love, for life, for good things. Miguel O'Hara; doing what needs to be done. Alone, always. 
You come closer to cup his chin, to make sure he's looking at you. There can be no ambiguity, no gray area when you say what you want to say. 
"You don't tell me what to do, O'Hara . " You press a kiss to his cheek, and another to trembling lips. "I decide what I deserve. No-one else does, not even you."
"It's not like you listen to me, anyway." He says with a shaky smile. 
Sitting up slightly on your forearms, you place your head up on his chest. Listening to the steady thump-thump of his heart. You don't need your super senses to know that he's alive, that he's here. The look in his eyes; you couldn't explain it if you wanted to. 
"Bichita." You say, out of the blue. No doubt due to your poor pronunciation, he winces. "What does it mean?" 
Clicking his tongue, he waves it off. " Very vulgar, you don't want to know. I mean, I shouldn't really-"
"Hmm." Shaking your head, you feign ignorance. "It's just that Lyla said it meant sweetheart, or little bug... terms of endearment, I think was the phrase."
"She said that?" He frowns. "Lyla's filling your head with nonsense, m'afraid. It's sarcastic. Post-ironic, metatextual… it comes across completely different in Spanish, mi vida."
"Post-ironic? That's not even the second most pretentious thing you've said today…" Giggling, you bury your head into his chest. 
"Of course not. I reserve my best stuff for you."
"Real classy, O'Hara. Bet you say that to all the poor women that end up in your bed."
"Nope." He hums. "Just the ones I've been in love with for the past two years."
He pulls you closer, smiling into light kisses on your shoulder, the fat of your stomach, your thighs, on your cheek. Kisses everywhere, anywhere he can reach.
"Just you, bichita." He breathes into your skin. "Only you ."
_
_
_
taglist: @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @ebrysteria
12K notes · View notes
cosmicbucky · 7 months
Text
wallpaper
summary: bucky finds out how to change the wallpaper on your phone, and takes every opportunity he can to do so. until one day he doesn't have the heart to
pairing: bucky barnes x female reader
word count: 1000
warnings: fluff, nonspecific friends to lovers, this was just a dumb idea i had
《《《《 ♡ 》》》》
The first time Bucky changed the wallpaper on your phone, it was an accident - kind of. He sat on your couch, lazily scrolling through the photos of Alpine you insisted he looked at, because you simply couldn’t resist having a Halloween photoshoot with her while he was off on yet another mission, leaving her in your trusting hands. He was happy you were in the kitchen, because he would never let you see the smile he wore as he browsed the album, chuckling silently to himself over how elaborate these photos were. His mood swiftly changed when he swiped incorrectly, an array of different options suddenly presenting themselves to him. He swore under his breath as he tried to make them go away, but he only made it worse as the option to change your wallpaper came up. With an annoyed huff, he just kept tapping, figuring that eventually he would get it back to how it was. After a few more grueling seconds, he sighed in relief as he was once more face to face with Alpine sitting inside a jack-o-lantern candy bucket - how was he supposed to know that photo was now both your lockscreen and homescreen?
“Did you change my lockscreen?” you curiously asked when you finally sat back down beside him, taking your phone and checking it for any new messages.
“Did I what?” he asked in confusion, his head snapping up from his own phone to look at you with a scrunched brow. 
You could only laugh lightly, turning your phone to display the new photo brandishing your screen. The second Bucky saw it, his eyes widened almost imperceptibly as his face flushed ever so slightly. 
“I, uh- sorry,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to, your phone is just - it’s different than mine.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle fondly, your chuckles growing into more laughter as you realized it was also your homescreen. “It’s okay, Buck,” you assured softly, laughing quietly as you changed the photos back to their precursors. “It could have been worse, at least it’s not an embarrassing photo or something.” 
You were too busy fixing his mistake to notice the glint that sparkled in his eyes, a smirk growing on his face as your words gave him the most incredible idea he’s had in a while. 
The second time Bucky changed your wallpaper, it was very much not an accident. You left him your phone so he could look at the photos you took on your latest trip, unpacking your bags as he split his attention between listening to your stories and scrolling through a seemingly endless array of new pictures - which he truthfully enjoyed, but he was on a secret mission for the perfect, nondescript one to choose. 
“Again, Buck?” you giggled, flopping on the bed beside him as you took your phone back. 
“What?” he asked, just innocent and clueless enough to not raise any flags. 
“You and your fat thumbs, I swear,” you mumbled under your breath, changing the photos back once more, completely oblivious to his proud little smirk.
It took three more times for you to suspect that Bucky had started doing it on purpose, but your suspicions weren’t proven correct until he took a photo of you to display.
“Did you- when- really?” you stammered as you looked between him and your phone, half annoyed and half impressed because when did he even take this photo? 
He only grinned in response, laughing about how long he was able to do it under the pretense of it being an accident before running away in a fit of giggles, dodging the pillow you threw after him.
From that moment on, it became a game for him. 
Any opportunity that presented itself, Bucky snatched your phone and changed your displays to the most embarrassing and ridiculous photos of yourself.
A sunset was changed to you mid-sneeze. Alpine was changed to you post-nap. You partying with the gang was changed to an extreme close up of your face in that very photo. Louisiana docks were changed to you mid rant as you yelled at him to give you your phone back. A cherry blossom was changed to you passed out on the couch, wrapped up in a hoodie you stole from him and drooling all over the sleeve of it. 
As time went on, you stopped being surprised whenever it happened, and you grew to enjoy it. It was a silly thing, but it was a silly thing that only you and Bucky shared. It was a special thing, a cherished thing. It was your favourite thing.
Neither of you realized how the dynamic between the two of you started morphing into something else right in front of your very eyes. It was slow. It was gradual and complex and delicate and went unnoticed for almost a whole year. 
It was only noticed now, as Bucky took the opportunity to grab your phone as you slept soundly against his chest. It had been a while since he was able to get a chance to do this, and so he eagerly unlocked your phone, already running through different ideas of what picture to use. 
He was caught off guard when the picture staring back at him was from a few weeks ago. It was the day you finally convinced him to let you drive his bike after months of endless asking. It was a photo neither of you knew Sam took until later that night, when he sent it to both of you. 
It was you, sat in front of him on the bike and wrapped up in his arms, one securely planted on either side of you as his hands rested on yours, guiding you through everything as you both gleefully laughed at the fact that you actually managed to convince him to do this. 
For once, Bucky didn’t have the heart to change it. 
He couldn’t. 
It was his wallpaper, too. 
6K notes · View notes
heytheredelulu · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
Wants & Needs
Bucky Barnes x Reader
18+
Word count: 1.8k
Content Warnings: unprotected sex (p-in-v), rough sex, dirty talk, pet names, size kink, masturbation, language, teasing, flashing
You come home late from girls night knowing Bucky will still be up. You want need him and you’re finally going to let him know.
Tumblr media
“Hey.” You said softly, shutting the door behind you and shrugging off your jacket.
It was late, nearly two in the morning and as expected, Bucky was sitting up in the living room reclining on the couch with a glass of bourbon in his hand. He nodded in greeting but even in the dim light you could see his blue eyes rake up your form, taking in your appearance. You kicked your shoes off and started across the room.
“You were out late.” He says, taking a swig from his glass. “Nice dress.”
You settle into the chair across from him and cross your legs. “Girls night.” You reply, acknowledging why you were out late and why you were wearing that slinky little black dress.
“Girls night?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. “Dressed like that?”
You frown and look down at your dress. “What’s wrong with it?” You ask.
He shrugs. “Nothing. You look nice. Just assumed you were coming back from a date, not girls night.”
You laughed. “A date? Yeah right.”
He raised both eyebrows this time, pausing with his glass at his lips. “What is that supposed to mean?” He asked.
You shook your head. “It means that I don’t go on dates.”
He lowered his glass and tilted his head inquisitively. “Why not?” He asked. “It’s not like you couldn’t get one. The dudes around here are practically throwing themselves at you.”
You shrug and lean back in your seat.
“I don’t want them.” You say quietly, resting a hand on your knee.
He sets his glass down, his curiosity peaked by your response.
“You don’t?” He asks.
You shake your head, shifting in your seat and uncrossing your legs. “I don’t.” You repeat, letting your thighs fall open as you stare across at him.
You sat in silence for a few moments until his gaze traveled down between your legs, falling onto your bare cunt underneath your dress.
You swore you heard his breath catch in his throat before his eyes flicked back up to meet yours and he leans forward with his elbows on his knees.
“What is it you want?” He asked, his focus drifting back to your exposed pussy. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip and he let out a slow, shaky breath.
You don’t answer him, responding instead by spreading your legs wider, your folds glistening with the slick of your arousal.
“Cut the bullshit.” He whispers, swallowing hard. “Tell me what you want.”
The hand resting on your knee slides up your thigh and dips between your legs. You trace a finger through your folds, gathering your wetness while your eyes remain fixed on him.
“I don’t want anything.” You breathe out, your head falling to rest against your shoulder as your finger traces over your clit.
His own fingers twitch as if he wants to reach for you and his eyes narrow in frustration.
“I thought I said cut the b-”
“And I said I don’t want anything.” You interrupt, your finger rubbing small circles over your clit. “Wants and needs are two different things, Buck.”
His elbows fall away from his knees and he leans back in his seat, his new position giving you a better view of his cock straining against his jeans.
“Fine.” He murmurs, resting his large palm over his erection. “What is it you need?” He asks, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.
You slide your finger towards your entrance, pausing against your tight, wet hole but not slipping it in just yet, causing him to visibly squirm in his seat. His breath falters and he catches his bottom lip between his teeth as he begins to palm himself lazily over his jeans.
“I think it’s obvious, isn’t it?” You ask, sinking a finger into your cunt. “Or do you just want to hear me say it?”
He scowls and unbuttons his jeans, gripping his waistband and tugging them down his thighs along with his boxers. His hard cock springs free against his abs, the tip angry and weeping with pre-cum.
“Are you gonna keep being a fucking tease?” He asks, spitting into his palm and pumping himself with his fist. “Or are you gonna cut the bullshit and let me wreck that pretty little pussy?”
You withdraw your finger, standing up from your chair and taking a step towards him. He stills his movements and scoffs, his expression darkening.
“No.” He says sternly. “You wanted to be a brat? You can crawl over here.”
You drop to your knees as told, crawling the short distance across the floor to him and slotting yourself between his thick thighs, marveling at his thick cock as he resumed fucking his fist mere inches from your face. “You want my cock?” He asks, bringing his free hand to roughly grasp your jaw. “You need my cock?”
You nod against his firm hold on your face, licking your lips as your eyes hungrily follow his every stroke. “I do.” You whine, reaching for him but he swiftly releases your jaw and smacks your hand away. “You could have just asked, you know.” He says, his tone suddenly gentle and betraying the dominance he was emanating.
“I-“ You start, rising to your feet and moving to straddle his thighs.
He lets go of his cock, reaching up and sliding the straps of your dress off your shoulders, peeling the fabric down and exposing your breasts. He cups one in his hand, kneading it gently as he looks up at you. “I wish you would have asked.” He mumbles, dipping his head down and taking your nipple in his mouth, rolling his tongue around it. You moan, tipping your head back and bringing your soaking cunt onto his lap, grinding yourself along his length. He sucks in a sharp breath in response, catching your nipple between his teeth and tugging.
You gasp, your hand grabbing a fist full of his hair and yanking his head back. He looks up at you with a menacing grin, his hands traveling to your hips and holding them tight in his grasp. “I wish you would have asked.” He repeats, that gentle tone gone again as he lines himself up with your entrance. “Because I would’ve been nice.. fucked you real sweet. But since you wanted to be a brat-“
He tightens his grip on your hips and brings you down onto his cock, stretching you open and causing you to cry out from the sting. He shushes you, leaning back to look between you with furrowed brows when his cock is met with resistance.
“Shit, and I’m not even all the way in.” He mocks, looking up at you while you tremble, trying to adjust to his size. “C’mon, baby. I thought you needed my cock?” He teases, taking hold of your thighs, spreading you open across his lap and fucking himself upward until he bottomed out. “You’re so fucking tight. Your pussy’s choking me.”
You felt all the air leave your lungs the moment he was fully seated inside you and as soon as his hands gripped your ass with bruising force, bouncing you up and down on him, you fell forward against his broad chest.
“F-fuck!” You gasped out, bracing your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself as rammed into you mercilessly. He let out a low chuckle, bringing his lips to your neck and pressing a kiss to your pulse point.
“You gonna make me do all the work?” He grunted out, nipping at the sensitive skin. You whimpered and brought your knees up, planting your feet on each side of him. Assuming control, you bounce yourself on his cock and desperately chasing the release that was building low in your abdomen.
“Atta girl.” He mumbled, his hand threading in your hair and pulling you to him. You crashed your mouth against his, your tongue teasing at his lips and he groaned as he parted them, meeting your tongue with his in a dance for dominance. You moaned into the kiss, grinding yourself down on him.
He snaked his hand between you, finding your clit and rubbing circles around it with his thumb, causing you to shake and cry out against his mouth as your vision blurred and a wave of ecstasy crashed over you. Your cunt clenched and fluttered around him and he broke the kiss, dipping his forehead to nuzzle against your temple.
“There you go, angel. That’s it. Come all over my dick.” He breathed against your ear, resuming control in the wake of your climax and fucking up into you again. “You’re dripping all over my balls, baby. Making such a mess. I should make you suck ‘em clean.”
Your body slackened from the force of your orgasm, your ears ringing as you nodded incoherently at his words. He delivered a swift slap to your ass and you gasped, arching your back in response. He grasped your ass cheeks in his large hands, spreading them as he lifted you up and slammed you back down onto him. “Don’t go all dumb on me now, not before I’ve fucked you full of my cum.” He warns, settling his hands against your lower back. “Lean back.”
You lean yourself back, his hands preventing you from falling and he pistons up into you, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix and causing you to choke back a sob as you feel yourself climbing towards the edge again. “Bucky, I-“
His mouth parts and he lets out a low moan. “I know, baby. I got you. Gimme one more. C’mon.”
His words send you toppling over and you come hard with a strangled cry, your hands clawing desperately at his shoulders as he fucks you through your waves of pleasure.
“I’m gonna cum in this tight little cunt.” He chokes out, his hips stuttering as he drags you up and down his length, your body trembling in aftershock.
“You want that?” He asks through gritted teeth. “You need that?”
You’re unable to form words, only managing a frantic nod as he grunts, pulling you down flush to him, his cockhead smashing against your cervix. He lets out a deep, guttural moan as his cock twitches and spills inside your throbbing pussy, filling you with his thick, hot cum.
You both remain still as if neither of you want to be the first to pull away, your chests pressed together and heaving in the afterglow. His hand palms at your thigh and he sighs, letting his head fall back against the couch.
“You alright, angel?” He asks, looking down at you while your head rests against his shoulder. You nod, laying your hand flat against his chest. You can feel his heartbeat hammering in his chest under your fingertips, almost in rhythm with your own that’s pulsing in your ears. “Good.” He breathes out, running a hand gently through your hair. “Can you promise me something?”
You tip your chin up, looking up at him through your lashes. “What?” You ask softly, moving your hand to trace your fingertips along his jaw. The corners of his mouth quirk up into a smile and he cups your cheek, running the pad of his thumb gently across your bottom lip.
“Next time you need somethin’ from me? Just ask.”
2K notes · View notes
fairy-angel222 · 1 month
Text
Dilf! Toji helping his college gf study.. with his cock
Leaning against his door frame as he pushes it open wider. A smirk on his face as you shyly squeeze in past his frame.
You’re holding tons of books in your hands, peering up at him through your lashes as you hand them over. “So.. where do we start?” It makes his cock strain when you tilt your head with your lip nudged between your teeth. Curious as to how he of all people could actually help you study.
“You’ll see, doll.”
He sits you down on his lap with a silent groan. Flipping through pages in front of you as he watched your eyes barely scan over the page.
You huffed, turning around with your arms over his shoulder and a pout. “Come onnn, this is so boring.”
“Study, now.” His voice held no trace of playfulness, the deep rumble making you sigh as you turned back around. “Fine.”
You were so restless, twisting and turning in his lap making his grip tighten on your hips. The man’s breath hitching as his cock hardens.
“You know what doll? Change of plans.” You find his fat cock buried inside you instead. Your thighs twitching as you held back the urge to move, to grind, anything. You were so full, and he was so deep. You needed it.
“Please can i move?” You whimpered, arousal leaking lewdly out his thigh at the feeling of him sat directly against your spot. “P-plea.. haah— please.”
Toji grinned, his breath against your ear as he chuckled meanly. “How about this? For every question you get right, one point gets added to me absolutely ruining that tight little pussy of yours.”
Another whimper, “A-and if i get it wrong?”
“Minus one point of course. Hmm.. and let’s just say when i do fuck you. You won’t be cumming for a while.”
Question after question. Wrong answer after wrong answer. You were probably in the negatives already.
“T-toji ple-ase,” you hiccuped, small drops of tears threatening to spill at simply your neediness. You were so desperate for him to fuck you. Your pussy aching each time he turned you down.
Toji watched as you frustratedly wiped away your tears, pulling the book to you for you to read. Actually read. He was impressed, all so you could get a little bit of cock.
You spend at least thirty minutes studying the pages. Confident when Toji started asking questions. And you had every right to be, answering questions correctly after correctly. Your sniffled voice now turned smug making Toji’s eyes widen. That was hot and he fucking loved you.
“Now. Please fuck me,” you breathe.
“As you wish, doll.” He has you flipped over in an instant. Skirt bunched at your hips as he begins fucking into you. Veiny cock dragging against your walls with each starting thrust.
“Ahh— faster.”
Toji swore he could cum right there, speeding up the pace of his hips until he was ramming into you. Your body being rocked roughly against the couch’s fabric as you moaned loudly. Lips parted in thankful cries each time his hips met yours meanly. “So good, so fucking good.” You mewled, stomach tightening as tears welled in your eyes. Good tears this time.
Your back arched, hands hooking around his torso when your body began to tremble. So close to falling apart. “Nngh— Toji, ‘m so close.” You were right there at the edge, letting out a short scream when he reached down to rub at your clit.
“Yeah? Gonna cum f’ me doll? That’s it.. look at that.” He grunted, watching your eyes roll back with the blissful chant of his name. “It’s too bad i said you wouldn’t cum.”
You whined loudly when he slipped out of you, your hips bucking up towards him as your orgasm died down, adjusting to the new found emptiness. “You’re so mean Toji.”
He swiped his finger along your puffy lips. “I know. Now let’s try this again shall we?”
3K notes · View notes
proxima-writes · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐛 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐬
Tumblr media
pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x female reader
rating: explicit
word count: 4.1k
summary: joel agrees to go out to tommy’s favorite bar, where he watches you ride a mechanical bull and wishes you would ride him.
warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), no use of y/n, dual POV, no defined reader age or physical appearance besides outfits, alcohol use, joel getting slapped, tommy is a little shit, first date anxiety, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, praise, pet names, girl on top, couch sex, unprotected p in v, teasing, deep throating, more men whimpering and begging 2k23. let me know if any warnings are missing!
author’s note: look, i know i’m in the middle of my spooky specials but i saw two very specific tik toks that left me with the need to write this 😵‍💫 also this post layout is inspired by @bits-and-babs, whose works and aesthetic are chef’s kiss.
Tumblr media
“Why did you pick this place?” Joel grumbles, hand wrapped around a sweating bottle of beer. People keep jostling him as they squeeze past, forcing him to keep his elbow tight to his side to avoid having his beer be collateral damage.
“You’ll see,” Tommy says with a cryptic wink. Joel rolls his eyes.
Tommy has dragged him out to a saloon style bar, complete with swinging wooden doors and longhorn skulls decorating the walls. Everything is shiny dark wood and western motif, down to the saddle style barstools. Most of the patrons have leaned into the theme, too — tassels, leather, cowboys hats, and ostentatious belt buckles.
“Alright, ladies and gentlemen!” A man’s voice calls out over the speakers. “The show is about to begin!”
“Show?” Joel asks dubiously. Tommy only grins at him, dragging him by the arm towards the back of the bar.
He weaves through the crowd until they’re only behind a few rows of people that have gathered around a mechanical bull riding ring, of all things. The floor of the ring is inflatable and in the middle sits the brown bull figure. Joel catches his first glimpse of you, a gorgeous woman in denim cut offs standing beside the bull. Your black leather halter top plunges low to expose your cleavage and stops short of the waist of your shorts, a tantalizing strip of your stomach on display. The black leather of the top matches your black leather boots and the cuffs snapped around your wrists.
“One of Salty Saloon’s very own has stepped up to take the bull by the horns tonight!”
You lift a hand to wave, bright smile on your face as you take in the crowd. Your eyes land on Joel and for a brief moment he swears he stops breathing. He can’t hear anything the emcee is saying, all the noise around him just a dull buzz as he watches you swing yourself up onto the back of the bull.
“Alright, alright, alright! Our rider’s goal is to stay on for one minute using only one hand! If she falls before the buzzer, y’all get nothin’. But if she makes it, shots are half off for the rest of the night!”
A cacophony of cheers erupts around Joel and you straighten your spine, holding your hand out with a thumbs up. The music starts, some pop song he’s heard on the radio in the morning when he’s taking Sarah to school, and the mechanical bull turns in a slow circle. You have one hand twisted in a leather strap, the other raised above your head as the bull bucks and swings, your hips moving smoothly with the machine.
“Goddamn,” someone says from behind Joel. “I ain’t ever wanted to be a bull so bad in my life.”
Me, too, he thinks.
Your thighs press tight against the sides of the bull as it swings around, turning you to face the section of crowd Joel stands in. You release the hand grip, both hands in the air now as you rely solely on your legs and core to keep you up on the machine. When the machine turns again, you manage to lift your body and swing your legs around to reverse your position, now seated facing the back of the bull.
“Alright, ten more seconds!” The emcee calls out. The crowd starts to cheer your name and Joel can’t help but join in, eyes glued to you as you continue to swing and sway like all the movements are nothing but second nature to you.
“Three! Two! One!”
Tumblr media
A cowbell goes off, signaling the end of your ride. The bull slows to a stop and you sit there for a moment to catch your breath, waving at the crowd. The bar owner, Johnny, comes out onto the crash pad with a huge grin on his face.
“Great job up there, kid. Now go sell some half priced shots,” he says with a good natured pat on your shoulder.
You return to the bar, where the other two bartenders scheduled tonight field the after-show rush, lining up shot glasses and filling them in quick succession with the requested liquor. When you get behind the bar, a familiar head of curly hair catches your eye.
“Tommy!” You call, excited to see one of you favorite regulars. He shouts your name as you stop in front of him.
“This is my brother, Joel!” He says, slapping the back of the man beside him. You’d seen him in the crowd, a handsome guy with broad shoulders stretching a dark blue t-shirt, warm tan skin, and messy curls that speak to the family resemblance between him and Tommy. You reach a hand across the bar, Joel’s calloused fingers dragging against your palm as you greet the man.
“It’s nice to meet you, Joel. Can I get y’all anything?” You ask. Tommy grins.
“Let me get this man a slap shot!” He yells.
You glance at Joel. “That okay with you?” You ask.
His eyes are comically wide as he nods. You step back to ring the bell behind the bar, your fellow bartenders whooping and cheering, a chant of “SLAP SHOT! SLAP SHOT!” echoing around you.
Haley sets a glass of water on the bar for you and you grab a pint glass, filling it with ice and two ounces of Jim Beam and amaretto. You smack the steel shaker on top, grabbing both glasses and shaking them vigorously over your shoulder.
You strain the contents of the shaker into a shot glass, amber liquid flowing to the brim. When you’ve got everything ready, you leave the back of the bar and squeeze your way through the crowd until you’re in front of the two brothers and can hoist yourself up onto the bar.
“Alright, Joel, are you ready?” You shout. He looks a little confused, brows pinched tight over kind brown eyes, but he nods anyway, holding his hand out for the shot glass. Tommy watches with a shit eating grin. “Three! Two! One!”
Joel takes the shot and you follow it with a glass of water to his face and a slap across his jaw in quick succession. Tommy is howling with laughter and Joel’s face is one of pure shock, red blooming across the skin of his cheek. He turns to his brother.
“Tommy, what the fuck!” Joel shouts. His hand wraps into the neck of Tommy’s shirt. “You little fuckin’ shit!”
You have the sinking realization that Joel wasn’t prepared for what a slap shot entails. You had just assumed this was something Tommy had told him about, having been to the bar so much the last few months.
Joel looks mad as hell, his shoulders tense and you worry he may actually throw a punch at Tommy. You hop from the bar and get between the two men, pressing a hand to their chests and pushing them apart.
"You, come with me," you say, pointing to Joel. "And you," -- you jab a finger into Tommy's chest -- "are on my shit list."
You take Joel by the hand and guide him to the back office, shutting the door and muffling the noises of the bar beyond it. His face is still dripping wet and the water dripping from his chin has gathered into a sizeable spot on the collar of his shirt.
"I am so, so sorry," you start, rifling through the storage cabinet for a bar towel. You hold it out to him, avoiding his gaze. "Tommy comes here so much that I just thought he'd told you about what a slap shot was. I should have told you, oh my god."
"Hey, it's okay. I ain't mad at you," Joel says, running the towel over his damp face. "Tommy, though. I'm gonna kick his fuckin' ass later."
"Still," you mumble, twisting your hands together nervously. "I'm sorry. Is your cheek okay?"
He rubs the towel over his head to dry his hair a bit, the action leaving him adorable mussed, curly strands sticking up in every direction. You're staring at him, maybe a little too much, but who can blame you? The man is hot.
"Yeah, trust me. I've had worse," Joel replies with a laugh.
"You get slapped by women often?" You tease.
"The number of times ain't just one."
"Oh, a bad boy. Mama warned me about guys like you."
He laughs again, long and low, running a hand through his hair. "Well, thank you for the towel."
"Right. And your next drink is on me. As an apology," you tell him.
"I'd rather get your number," he says. "You know, as an apology."
You raise your eyebrows at him before turning to the manager's desk, grabbing a marker and tugging the cap off with your teeth. You slide a hand down his arm, lifting his forearm up so that you can write down your number across the smooth, tan skin.
"I'm off next weekend," you comment when you've recapped the marker.
"I'll keep that in mind," Joel replies with a grin.
Tumblr media
Joel's nervous as he waits outside of your apartment building in his truck, fingers tapping a nameless tune against the steering wheel. It's Saturday night and he's here to pick you up for dinner at a restaurant in downtown Austin, one that required he dig out the old black button down he keeps shoved in the back of his closet for parent-teacher conferences and funerals.
The front door to your building opens and you emerge, dressed in a pretty red wrap dress and black heels. Joel gets out of the truck and jogs around to the passenger side to open the door for you and he's surprised when you lean up and kiss him on the cheek.
"Hey," you say in greeting, climbing into the truck and settling into the passenger seat, your purse on your lap. Joel can't help the dopey grin that's surely stretched across his face.
“Hey, yourself. You look nice,” he replies. He shuts the door and jogs around the the driver’s side.
“You don’t look so bad either,” you tell him as he starts the truck up. He can feel his cheeks get warm and he hopes that you can’t see him the proof of his nerves in the dark cab.
At the restaurant, the host leads you both to a small table towards the back of the restaurant, pristine white tablecloth topped with a small vase of flowers and a flickering votive candle. A waiter in a white button down comes by to take your drink orders before disappearing the the kitchen, leaving the two of you regarding each other in silence.
“Look, I gotta be honest about somethin’,” Joel says, leg bouncing beneath the table. “I’ve got a kid. Sarah, she’s thirteen. Light of my life, you know?” He takes a deep breath before finishing with, “And I don’t think I’ve even been on a date since she’s been born, so this is just…a little new to me.”
“You have a kid?” You ask. For a moment Joel worries that he may have ended this before it could even get a chance to begin, but then your face lights up with a sweet smile and you ask, “Will you tell me about her?”
Joel does. In between ordering and eating your delicious meals, you and Joel discuss anything and everything. He tells you about Sarah and his contracting work, while you tell him about your full time job as a pharmacy technician, the gig at the bar a part time thing on some weekends. He nearly makes you snort your water out of your nose with a story about rescuing Tommy from the bathroom of the girl he’d been seeing when her long distance boyfriend, who Tommy didn’t know existed, showed up at her apartment.
“Oh my god,” you exclaim breathlessly. “And he just jumped out of the bathroom window?”
“To be fair, she had a first floor unit,” Joel confirms. “His royal pain in the ass still made me take him to urgent care because he thought he broke his ankle.”
“You’re a good brother,” you say with a smile. Joel feels the warmth of it in his veins.
After dinner, the ride back to your place is quiet, the comfortable silence filled with the low music from the radio. In a moment of bravery, Joel reaches over and lays a hand on your low thigh, just above your knee as he drives. He refuses to look over at you, but from the corner of his eye he sees you look down at his hand before looking back out the window.
He counts that as a win.
He pulls up the curb outside your apartment and kills the engine. You speak before he has a chance to agonize over what to say.
“Will you walk me to my door?” You ask.
He feels relief and anxiety in one fell swoop. He agonizes internally over whether to kiss you goodnight as he follows you up the stairs to your apartment, the buzzing in his brain momentarily silenced while he watches your hips sway as you climb the steps.
You stop on the second floor, guiding him down a long hallway to a door marked with a black metal number three. You turn to face him, looking up at him through your lashes.
“This is me,” you murmur. Joel swallows nervously.
“Right. I, uh…I had a really great time tonight,” he says.
“Would you…want to come inside?”
Joel’s brain short circuits. “Would I—? Yeah.”
You turn to unlock the door, pushing into your apartment and Joel follows you inside. The apartment is dark but you quickly turn on the lights as you move further inside, illuminating an open living room with a dining nook. There’s a door off to the right that he assumes is your bedroom and an open kitchen to the left. It’s small, but it’s cozy, bursting with colors and fabrics and mismatched furniture.
“Well, this is home,” you say with a shrug. You set your purse down on the small circular dining table. “Can I get you anything to drink? I’ve got beer, some liquor on the bar cart over there if you want to have a look.”
“Beer is fine,” Joel says, taking a seat on the comfy looking couch. You return with a bottle of beer, passing it to him before settling in beside him, kicking off your heels and drawing your legs up beneath you.
He takes a sip, fortifying his nerves. He wasn’t lying when he said it’s been a long time since he’s been on a date, but even sex has been a distant thought for the last year or so. He doesn’t want to mess this up.
“So,” you start, your elbow pressed into the back couch cushion while you lean your face into the palm of your hand. “You wanna know what I think?”
“‘Bout what?” Joel asks.
“You.”
“You got a report card ready for me already?”
“I think” — you take the beer bottle from his hand, setting it on the coffee table — “you’ve spent a long time being a caretaker. Right? You’ve got Tommy, who was already a handful. Your daughter, who’s obviously priority number one. You’ve got a business to worry about, workers to care for.” You shuffle closer on your knees, swinging a leg over his and settling yourself onto his lap. “This okay?” You ask.
“Yeah,” he replies, probably a bit too enthusiastically. His fingers curl into the couch cushions and he wants to reach up to wrap his hands around your waist but he’s not sure if he should.
You play with the collar of his shirt. “What do you think about having someone take care of you for a change?”
Joel’s stomach flips, cock jumping in interest as the blood in his brain rushes south and leaves him only capable of responding with a mumbled, “Oh?”
“I just think you deserve someone treating you real nice,” you say with a shrug. Deft fingers work at undoing the buttons of his shirt. “Especially when I was so mean when we met, slapping you across the face like I did.”
“Told you not to worry ‘bout that,” he replies, head dropping against the back cushions. “S’not like I didn’t like it.”
“You like to be roughed up a little, Mr. Miller?”
“Maybe.”
Your grin is wicked as you drag your nails down the now exposed skin of his chest. He hisses at the sting of it.
“Interesting,” you murmur. You lean close, chest pressed against his, hands coming up to frame his face. Your nails scratch through his beard now and he groans his appreciation.
“Can I kiss you?” He asks. “Please?”
You respond by pressing your lips to his, chaste as first. Your mouths move together slowly, feeling each other out. It’s you that takes it deeper, tracing your tongue over his bottom lip and dipping it inside to tangle with his. He wraps his arms around your low back, holding you tightly in his lap as he consumes you, drunk on the feeling of your breath in his lungs.
You drags yours lips away from his with a slick sound, trailing them along his jaw and towards his ear. You nip at his earlobe, teeth gentle and breath hot before whispering, “Can I suck your cock, Joel?”
A whimper claws it’s way up Joel’s throat as he nods, already unable to form words. He’s no stranger to turning into a puddle for a pretty woman but he’s certain this must be a new record.
You slip from his lap and kneel on the floor, pushing his legs apart so that you can settle in between them. Your hands reach for his belt, tugging on the buckle and pulling it loose so that you can pop the button of his jeans and tug the zipper down, the metallic sound loud in the quiet room.
Your fingers curl into the waist of his jeans and Joel lifts his hips a bit to aid you in tugging them halfway down his thighs. His cock tents his boxers in an obscene way, a wet spot already staining the fabric. You run your palms up his thighs before bracketing his member between your hands, lightly running your thumbs up his length.
“Christ,” Joel says, teeth digging into his lip.
“That feel good?” You ask.
“Uh huh.”
You smile beatifically before leaning forward, warm breath on his covered cock as you press gentle kisses through the fabric. Joel’s hips twitch and he lets out a deep groan.
You tug the elastic of his boxers over his length, tucking it beneath his balls. He’s practically vibrating with need but you continue to take your sweet time, pressing more kisses along his shaft, tracing the tip of your tongue over the prominent vein.
“You have a pretty cock, Joel,” you say, wrapping your hand around the base of him to hold him steady. It’s a struggle to keep his eyes open but he doesn’t want to miss the sight of your tongue lapping at the bead of precum gathered on his flushed tip, or the way your own eyes flutter shut as you let out a little moan of appreciation.
You wrap your lips around his cock, taking him inch by agonizing inch into your warm mouth and Joel feels any semblance of sanity disappear from his lust clouded brain. Your eyes stay fixed on him as take him in as far as you can, throat fluttering around the sensitive head when you swallow before pulling up, twirling your tongue around the tip, and plunging back down.
“Christ,” Joel groans, reaching out to cup your cheek. “You look so goddamn good like that.”
You lift off his cock and take it in your hand, moving it across your lips as you ask, “Like what?”
“Chokin’ on my cock, sweetheart,” he growls.
“That was nothing.”
Joel’s about to ask what you mean when you lower your mouth over his length once more. He can feel you flatten your tongue, your throat and jaw relaxing enough to take him to the very base, your nose tickling the wiry curls on his pelvis. He moans as you swallow around him, breathing through your nose and holding yourself there for a moment before coming up with a gasp, tears gathered in the corners of your eyes and spit making your chin shiny in the low light.
“So…I could keep doing this,” you tell him, “or…”
“Or?” He asks.
“Or…you could let me make us both feel good.”
You stand up, your hands untying the knot that holds your dress together so you can push it off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor in a heap. You push your panties down your legs and unhook your bra, leaving you gloriously naked in front him, every inch of you like a piece of art meant to be admired. Joel’s hands, greedy and unfulfilled up until now, reach up to grip your hips and pull you onto his lap, your pussy hot and wet against his cock. He lets his hands wander over every inch of exposed skin, relishing the way your ass fits in his palms and the way you hiss when his thumb caresses a tight nipple.
“You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he moans, his lips against your rapid pulse, teeth ghosting the thin skin of your neck. “Need you so bad, baby.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” you whisper, reaching between your bodies to hold his throbbing cock steady, notching it at your soaked entrance and beginning a slow slide down.
Tumblr media
Joel is panting against your sweat slick chest, mumbling desperate words into your skin as you take him inside of you as slowly as you can, thighs burning with the effort. When you’ve finally seated yourself on his lap, his head drops back to the cushion, eyes squeezed shut tightly and fingers nearly bruising on your thighs.
“Don’t move, don’t move, don’t move,” he begs. “Oh, fuck, feels so good.”
Where he’s desperate for you to stay still, you’re already desperate to move. His cock is perfect, thick and long with a slight upward curve, pressing up against your g-spot with stunning accuracy. You’re certain this won’t last long for either of you.
You rock slowly, forward and back, little movements of your hips. Joel lifts his head, looking down at where your bodies are connected with dark eyes. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, tangling your fingers in his hair and giving it a sharp tug that has him hissing your name.
You start to move more quickly, rolling your body in smooth waves over his. He’s panting as he looks up at you, sweat gathering at his temple, and his hands grip your ass and follow your movement reverently.
“So fuckin’ good,” he moans, “you’re gonna make me come, baby, goddamn.”
You speed up, bouncing on his lap now. Your couch creaks the slightest bit, protesting your movements, but you don’t care — all you care about is the man beneath you and the desperate little noises spilling from his lips as you make good on your promise to take care of him.
“Touch me,” you command. “I’m so close, Joel, please.”
He’s a good listener, your Joel, his thumb immediately finding your clit and circling it with messy movements that drive you wild, that tension in your muscles coiling tighter. Joel’s hips flex into yours with each drop down his length, the room echoing with the lewd sounds of skin against skin and the chorus of whimpers that spill from both of you.
“Joel, Joel, Joel,” you chant. He wraps his arms around you, really thrusting into you now as your own movements falter and you collapse forward, head buried against his neck as you come, trembling with the strength of it.
It’s not long after that he goes still, cock pulsing inside of you as the aftershocks of your orgasm wash over you. You stay slumped against each other, catching your breaths and waiting for your racing hearts to come back down to earth.
“That was…,” Joel says with a breathless laugh that shakes his chest. His fingers play up and down your back, soothing and gentle. “Goddamn, that was amazin’.”
“Yeah?” You ask, lifting your head. You smooth his messy hair back from his forehead. “You weren’t so bad either.”
He nips at your neck in retaliation, making you laugh and squirm away from him.
“Do you have to get going?” You ask.
“No,” he replies. “Tommy’s watchin’ Sarah for me tonight. He owes me one. Besides, I’m ain’t done with you yet.”
“No?”
“Not even close, darlin’.”
Joel Miller masterlist
All masterlists
3K notes · View notes