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pocoyo-yo · 1 year

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LEMON MERINGUE PIE

SUMMARY: being cowboy!reiner brauns spoiled little wife

WARNINGS: smut, unprotected sex, fembodied!reader, black!coded reader, squirting, creampie, dirty talk, manhandling, clit slapping, breeding kink, daddy kink, overstimulation, p in v, m/f, petnames (sweet thing, darlin', mama, poundcake,and obviously daddy)

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being reiner braun meant hucking hay bales over your shoulder, petting and caring for your cattle, and going into town to sell your goods.

being reiner brauns spoiled little wife meant you never had to lift a finger— only coming home to your tired man who wanted nothing more than to bask in your sweet scent of lemons.

".. reiner," you had your arm hooked around his large bicep with a grin. ".. lemme take a ride on my baby, I bet my meringue misses me."

but that didn't mean you didn't want to lift a finger.

"ya don't have'ta, sweet thing," he glanced down at you through the shade of his cowboy hat. ".. yur a city girl at heart, don't gotta change nothin' f'me." he told you.

you pouted, "I'm aware.. you remind me all the time, but meringue is my horse— don't you remember our first ride together? you, me, meringue, and knight?"

reiner clicked his tongue, "'course I do, darlin'.. ya caught on so quickly it was like ya were a natural— I think I fell for ya then."

you unhooked your arm from his as you approached the white picket fence that connected to the stables. you could spot her from a mile away, with her pretty blonde main and brown fur that faded to white at the hooves. when you first met reiner through a family friend while you visited she immeaditely caught your eye— her mane reminded you of your blond lace front while her fur was the same shade of vrown as your skin.

"..c'mere," reiner whistled at meringue and smacked the fence as he leaned slightly over. you glanced over at him— his sleeves were rolled up on his arms, sweat beads rolling down his slightly tanned skin. ".. c'mere, meringue, mama wants ya!" he called out.

you smiled bashfully as meringue let out a sneeze and began to trot towards the fence.

"city girl or not this is my baby," you grinned as meringue stood before you and you petted her face. ".. hi pretty girl, did you miss me?"

meringue let out a grunt and you looked over at reiner who was just admiring you with a soft smile.

"what are you looking at, sir?" you teased.

he stood up straight and walk towards you, he was so tall— tall and bulky.

"my pretty lil wife, ma'am." reiner replied.

you rolled your eyes and reiner gave your ass a nice smack which earned a surprised squeal from your lips.

he had been holding back from doing that ever since he saw you come outside in those tiny jean shorts, that plaid crop top that showed off your diamond belly-button piercing and allowed your tits to spill— teasing the lace of your bra, and those brand new one inch heel cowboy boots.

"c'mon, mama," reiner leaned into your ear as meringue walked away in the other direction. your breath hitched as he pressed his crotch right up against your ass. ".. don't ya wanna go for a ride?"

being reiner brauns spoiled little wife also meant that for treating you so kindly, like the princess you are, he expects a little something in return whenever he gets hot and heavy after a hard days work.

"r— reiner! rei.. oh my goood.."

fresh out of the shower, reiner almost immeadiately had you sat on his lap— large, calloused hands clung to the fat of your hips while he pounded his fat cock into your pussy.

"yur so pretty, sweet thing," he groaned at the sight of your ass clap everytime his wet pelvis made contact with your skin. you clung at his muscular thighs while your tongue dared to stick out of your glossy lips. ".. ya can take this dick, can't ya? 'gonna let me take care of this sweet pussy?"

you dug your nails into his skin and moaned as one of his hands hooked around your waist and found your swollen clit while other squeezed on your breasts.

"c'mon fuck me back— ride my cock, yeah?" reiner panted, his lips grazing over the skin of your neck. he thrusted up into you while you attempted to grind on his dick, trying to play with yourself at the same time.

"feels s'good," you whimpered as his hot breath teased the crown of your ear. "..makin' this pussy feel so so good, daddy.."

he chuckled, cock fucking deeper into your belly— a slight bulge poking at your skin. your inner thighs were sticky and wet as your slick and his pre-cum smeared messily everytime you both make contact.

"how long we been married, darlin'?" he asked and you whimpered, the shimmer of his golden wedding band filled your vision.

".. d— daddy slow down," you mumbled, thigh muscles clenching as you began to try and match his thrusts. ".. ooh fuck— daddy! d— daddy! ..daddy!"

reiner huffed, ".. holy— take a breath.. 'nd answer me, mama.."

you gasped as reiner hooked his heavy arm under your thighs and yanked them up— practically folding you in half. you watched as his fat cock slipped out of your hole and you let out a whine before he used his freehand to guide it back into your sloppy cunt.

"we uhm," you arched your back against his chest as the curve of his cock brushed right against your g-spot. ".. r— right there! again please daddy.."

reiner groaned and raised his free hand— landing a slap over your swollen clit. you let out a yelp and clawed at his arm while your cunt squeezed tightly around him in response.

"lemme ask ya one mo' time," reiner leaned into your ear and hissed. ".. how long ya been my wife, mama?"

you felt your eyes sting with tears as his heavy hand smacked your stinging clit again, the cool metal of his wedding band adding some type of relief.

".. two," you whimpered softly— hot tears falling down your cheeks. "two years, rei.."

"mhm," he kissed at your salty tears. ".. I think it's 'bout time I made ya a real mama, ain't it?"

you sniffled, ".. 'nd make you a daddy, rei?"

reiner nodded, "yeah.. and make me a real daddy, sweet thing," he grabbed your hand and placed it over the spot in your belly where the tip of his cock poked at your skin. ".. oh fuck we'd make the prettiest lil babies, poundcake— so how 'bout it? ya gonna let daddy breed up this messy pussy?"

"yes," your toes curled at the thought of reiner emptying himself into you. you two had been careful since you met him— condom, birthcontrol, him coming outside, plan b's after almost everytime because better safe than sorry. "yes I wan' it— please breed this pussy daddy.. make me a mama please please.." you begged him.

reiner groaned and slid his freehand in between your legs to rub circles over your clit while he fuck up into you. your jaw fell agape as the only thought that filled your mind became reiner reiner reiner. your stomach churned and an immense amount of pressure filled your belly— something new, something foreign.

"daddy wait," you moaned softly, eyes rounded out as your legs began to tremble in reiners hold. ".. d— daddy somethin's not— it feels w— weird.."

"yur gonna cum, poundcake." he cooed in your ear.

"s'not that— feels like m'gonna," you let out a cry as reiner sped up his movements— every part of you wanted to run away from this feeling, the pressure was so uncomfortable. ".. oh fuck! daddy— daddy you gotta—"

you let out a shakey whimper and your toes curled as the tip of his cock kissed your cervix. your eyes flickered in the back of head while you squirted all over reiners thighs and the bed sheets.

"and here I thought I married just a creamer," reiner scoffed and his tip teased at your cervix again— earning another stream of wetness which landed on your lower belly. ".. yur still not done, poundcake?"

your body slumped against reiner as he used both hands to spread your legs further apart— alowing him to sink deeper into your pussy. you were too focused on the feeling of yourself about to cum some more to be embarassed at how on display you were. pussy puffy and bruised— twitching everytime reiner sunk himself back in. the overstimulation had you unable to even form a coherent sentence.

".. fuck im 'bouta cum, mama," reiner moaned— his heavy balls slammed right against your ass. ".. ya still got more in there? go on 'nd finish up f'me then daddy will fill this tight pussy, alright?"

you slipped your hand in between your legs and flicked at your clit, shuddering, "o— oh my.."

the last of your release streamed from your pussy and onto the sheets— your chest was heaving as you tried to catch your breath.

reiner sloppily kissed your jaw and stammered, "fuck fuck.. ya done now, mama?"

you nodded shakily, "yes daddy.. please cum in me please.."

he groaned, "alright alright— daddy's got you, sweet thing."

you let out a low moan as reiner buried his face in your shoulder— whimpering into your sweaty skin. the veins in his fat cock pulsed while his balls tightened, and he pressed your body right up against his own— muscles tightening at the feeling of his cum shoot into your warm, tight pussy.

"take it all, mama," he moaned, stubble tickling your neck as he lifted his face from your shoulder. ".. take all of daddy's babies."

being reiner braun's spoiled little wife meant that finally, after getting manhandled and fucked dumb, he would treat you with most care and love he could— making sure you were doing just fine because you deserved it after making him feel so good.

you shivered as reiner let your weak legs go, and he left soft kisses on your upper back. you tried to recollect your thoughts with his softening cock inside of you.

".. I made such a mess." was the first thing you managed to mumble.

reiner sighed, "it's fine, poundcake.. I'll start a bath f'ya and clean up."

you glanced up at him and pouted, "stay with me, reiner."

he let out a small groan, "fine.. we'll bathe together— just let me get the bath started."

you reluctantly nodded and his cock slowly slid out of you. you gasped at the feeling of his cum begin to leak out of your fucked-out hole.

"that ain't good," he chuckled, thin eyebrows risen at the sight. "let's see.."

reiner scooped up what had leaked out of his cum and stuffed it back into you with his thick fingers. you let out a surprised squeak and playfully smacked his arm.

"keep them thighs closed, sweet thing," reiner layed you on the bed and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips once he got up. "and if any of it comes out you push it back in, understand?"

"yes daddy.." you teased.

"ya say that again, poundcake, and I'll right back inside that pussy before ya can blink." he warned you.

you giggled and rested your head on the pile of pillows. reiner stared at you for a moment with hooded eyes before he scratched the side of his head.

"I love you, darlin'.." reiner told you in a shy tone.

you smiled sweetly at your husband, "I love you too, reiner."

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!!!THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR 1,000 FOLLOWERS!!! I DISSAPEAR SO MUCH SO I DON'T KNOW HOW YOU GUYS DEAL WITH ME LMAO

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garoujo · 1 year

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!!nagi swears that kissing you before practice or a match gives him good luck!!<3<33

✩ ˛˚ . NAGI SEISHIRO ; — it seems the teams way to get nagi motivated has its drawbacks.

warnings: sfw! no warnings just nagi being the sweetest :3 note: hi nonnie!!! i decided to just write this lil thing cause i thought it was super cute so i hope u like it sob!!!

for the most part, it was beneficial when the team decided to start inviting you to their morning practice — as a means to motivate nagi, noticing that the usual sleepy, slacker of a striker seemed to have a little more motivation whenever he’d look over and see you in the stands.

but now.. actually getting him to come onto the pitch to play was a whole other problem entirely.

“hey, nagi! get on the field, jeez.. we’re still a goal behind, ultra genius.” you hear reo call from behind you, huffing when your boyfriend infront of you doesnt even seem to give him a second thought as he waves him off from over his shoulder. you think it’s amusing though, the pleading look his bestfriend gives you like he’s begging you to help him out.

nagi on the other hand, is currently leaning over the barrier at the stands — shooting you a starry-eyed look from under his messy bangs. his gloved hands fidget with the hem of your t-shirt and you feel them twitch tighter around the fabric every few moments, like an adorable little attempt to pull you closer as he sends you a pout.

“this is a pain, ‘ts in the way.” your boyfriend breathes as his longer limbs shift and fidget over the metal fence against him he’s referring to — surprisingly enough managing to support his weight as he leans against it, probably finding standing too bothersome given how long they’ve been practicing already.

but you give nagi an inch as you take a step closer, just enough to let his hands graze along your hips as he lets his head lean forward and rest on your chest. “you’re needed on the field, sei.” you try to reason as you push his snowy bangs away from his gaze, letting you take in the pretty, drowsy expression on his face when he blinks slowly up at you.

“eh, don’t wanna. wanna stay here.” another slow drawl and his fingers are squeezing at your skin, feeling him nuzzle deeper into your chest as he leans even further into you — making the barrier squeak slightly under his weight. you’re not sure it’s quite built to balance lazy 190cm strikers.

“but i wanna see you score more goals. we can get lemon tea before we go home.” it’s tempting, especially when you say it in that pretty little voice you know he loves. so you feel nagi’s head twist against you before he’s sending you a cute little look, cheek smooshed against you as he huffs.

“i’m sleepy though, i wanna have a bath and play video games with you instead. ‘ts no fair.”

“i’ll give you a kiss for every goal you score.” it’s quick, your reply — it doesn’t give him a moment to consider it because you know it’s a bargain he can’t pass up. only a few simple things could get nagi seishiro motivated and your kisses were right up there next to video games and well— that’s it.

“wan’ them now. need ‘em for a power up.” it’s hard to say no to him when he’s giving you that look, it’s sleepy and doe-eyed and there’s a soft glow that swims in the deep colour of his eyes that makes you smile before you’re scratching your hand through his hair. it makes your boyfriend shudder and he pulls you closer before you’re reminded of the time limit when reo sends you a wave followed by a grumpier sort of look.

“three goals for three kisses.” your words are rushed but they make nagi stand to full height just as quickly despite the way his arms remain around you — head leaning into the press of your palm when it cups his cheek.

“yay.” it’s soft, spoken under his breath when you push his hair from his features to peck him once on the lips, followed by another before he’s meeting you quickly for the last — urging it to be a little deeper than the other two as he pulls you into him. you hear him hum and you decide to give him a little extra motivation when you swipe your tongue between his lips, hearing a sweet whimper sound from him before he’s parting them for more — but just as quickly as it deepens, you pull away to grin.

“hey, why’d you pull away. wasn’t done yet.” nagi’s words are whinier now but there’s a soft flush on the tips of his ears and you think it’s cute just how easy it was to get him drowsy on kisses.

“it was just for good luck. three goals, sei. then you’ll get more!” you let your fingers scratch through his messy hair again as he groans, followed by a quick thumbs up to reo from over his shoulder before you’re pushing him lightly. he sways before he turns and you laugh at the next pout he sends you as his arms fall to sway by his side — his eyes still on you even as he makes his way back towards the team, although there’s something darker in his gaze now.

“eh, i guess. but it’s so bothersome, three goals is too easy.”

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x reader #bllk fluff #blue lock fluff #bllk x you #nagi x reader #nagi fluff #nagi x you #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi seishiro x you #nagi seishiro fluff

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sordidmusings · 3 months

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Give (in) and Take (me) - (Beckman x Reader)

Art by shibama_TK9

A/N: *Hasn’t completed a smut in weeks, comes back throwing a niche character at you to spread simpin for him like a virus* plz love him he’s great and while he ain’t my main I’d have nooooooo complaints in partaking 😩 tryin to give @fanaticsnail some morsels cuz the writing for this man is quite devastatingly scant. She also a whole sweetie and wrote me some perfect Buggy when she found out I was doing this. Obviously I am much slower 🥴🥴🥴

Word Count: ~8.7k

Warnings: fem!reader, NSFW, there’s some plot at the front and back, bratty reader, brat-tamer Beckman, he does the Nanami hair grab 👌🏻, semi-public, standing, against the wall, man-handling, clothed sex, p in v, creampie, praise, degredation, lots of teasing on both sides, age gap? (briefly mentioned, ~30 and late 40s), Beckman is a lil mean but don't worry he's Whipped, this some filth filth 🥴 whoops

Now please come enjoy prodding the big gruff man (who just wants to treat you right) until he snaps

(˵¯͒〰¯͒˵)

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You’ve had enough of the raucous jubilation in the bar, especially now that you noticed your awaited opening unfolding before you. The rest of the Red Hair Pirates were fully distracted in their jovial whirling, hooting, and playing, leaving a certain silver smoke cloud all by his lonesome. You’d been dancing through his whisps all night, enjoying how they’d wrap and curl around you as you went. It was in their nature to do so. Each brush of a hand got a shiver and a sigh and a trailing stare. Each floated conversation was leaned into, breathed in, savored. Each departure was followed with the turn and lean of his chest, pulled to follow from the sure grip on his thumping heart until his doubts rooted him down and resisted the tug.

You were plagued by your own doubts, mostly of what the “after” would look like, but you were certain of one thing: he was attracted. Along with his need to entwine with your presence, you’d noticed the tell-tale sign of his gaze drawn to lips, neck, breasts, hips, and thighs. You’d noticed the hunger growing his pupils so they could better suck in your image on each glance. You’d noticed how he had to keep flicking his tongue out to wet his lips, mouth dry from restrained need. Most importantly, you’d noticed the way he had to shift and shuffle while he watched you dance, fighting the need to pull you away for himself to join and trying to flush the heat from his body. Whatever it was that was holding him in his seat and keeping his hands and lips and tongue off of you, you were going to drag him right through it until he was fully in your grasp.

First thing’s first, you retook your spot on the stool next to him at the bar. Immediately the smoke tendrils embraced you; your drink was scooted back in front of you, his thigh slid sideways to seek the brush of yours, a lethargic smile took residence on his face to greet you. You responded with a coy smile of your own and then a hearty gulp of your drink. The steady burn and potent taste of liquorice cutting through the muddled mint and lemon centered you and heartened you for your plan of attack.

“Thanks, Becks, glad to have you as my cocktail guard dog,” you said with teasing humor. You gave his thigh a friendly pat that crossed the amicable boundary with a lingering hold and gentle squeeze, before you brought the hand back up to give you another sip of your drink. The taste of touch on his thick muscle had it twitch in delight. Your mouth watered at the feel, not quite sated with alcohol on your tongue when there should be skin.

“Any time, darlin’,” Beckman responded easily and honestly. “Though I don’t think there’s any here who would do much to it. Much more likely one of the fools will steal it to drink for themselves.”

You laughed at the statement, knowing how true it was. When the crew was drunk they got sticky fingers, and when it came to drinks they were the worst - none quite remembering whose was whose and caring even less to get it right. Knowing where you wanted to try and get this night to go, you’d kept yourself far behind them in intoxication. You kept yourself right in the sweet spot of inebriated enough for that coveted liquid courage but not so much that you were out of control of yourself. Besides, if you got your way you didn’t want any of the details to be foggy.

“Even so, it’s appreciated,” you reasserted, giving him a winning smile and stalling his heart. “Now can I ask another favor of you?”

“‘Course you can, darlin’,” he replied instantly. Another cheer rang out in the background, followed by the beginnings of a long and loud drinking song. Beckman used this as an excuse to lean into your space to better hear and see you. “What can I do for you?”

You centered yourself more forward towards the bar, just to force him to lean in even closer to chase you, and peeked at him from the corner of your eye. The look mixed with your mischievous smile had him ready and eager to agree to whatever you had in mind. Not that he’d let you see how easy it was for you to sway him.

“Well…” you trailed off, just to make him squirm, “I can think of lots of things you could do for me. I’m having trouble picking my favorite.”

Beckman’s brows rose at the blatant flirting. Sure, you’d both thrown some flirtatious comments at each other throughout your relationship, but they didn’t feel anything like this. They felt easy, friendly - like something to build rapport and have fun. This felt so much heavier - a gift offered to him that was pulling the possibility of closeness from cloudy dreams down to the ground with the weight of the warm cast of the bar lights, the dark desire in your eyes, and the sultry tone of your voice. He began to recount how many drinks he’d had to check if he was imagining the advances he’d long wished for. Maybe he should check for you too.

“Darlin’, how many drinks you got in you?” There was genuine concern in the question, mixing with a touch of incredulity. You scoffed at it all.

“Not enough to lose my sense, thank you very much,” you answered. To snub his misplaced worries, you downed the rest of your drink. “That was only the fifth of the night, we’ve been here hours, and you know it takes much more than that to take me down.”

“That it does,” Beckmann conceded. The bare affection in his voice and eyes while he said it had you flushing, finding care much more difficult to process than lust. “Now my task?”

Yet again, you took to keeping him in suspense. Instead of answering, you slowly drew your gaze over him, assessing him. He fought against the small shiver it put through him; he felt like you were staring straight through his clothes. He felt like he was getting the most important appraisal of his life and all he had to go on was the burning in your eyes and your cryptic smile. You were doing a better job of reading him; while his expression remained perfectly schooled, you were observant enough to see his tells. Just as when he watched you dance, he shifted in his seat, working through the flush of arousal poured on him from his nervousness and having your eyes glued to him. Between the curtains of his wavy silver hair, you saw his Adam's apple bob with a strong swallow. He started lightly drumming on the bartop with his fingers on the hand closest to you.

Using that to your advantage, you made your next move. Doing it slowly so he could layer each second with his anticipation, you trailed your fingertips across the knuckles of his fidgeting hand, halting the motion. You flicked your gaze up to check in on his eyes. They mostly held confusion, but so so much interest was also packed into his silver irises. Happy with the reaction, you proceeded to move your teasing touch further, traveling over the back of his hand and his wrist to play with the soft hair on his forearm in deliberate circles. Though he was nearly bursting with questions, Beckman kept his mouth shut and resolved to let you lead this at your own pace until you finally decided it was time to reveal your hand to him.

“I’ve decided,” you started, finally breaking the silence with an alluring whisper, “that I want more than one favor.” You stopped watching your fingers touch him to look at him through your lashes. “And I know where you can start.”

Beckman blew out a long breath, hoping to settle down his heart, which was still jumping and kicking. You’re not drunk, but this has to be the alcohol. You couldn’t be propositioning him. Him. Maybe he’s just a curiosity? Perhaps you were interested in trying out an experience with an older lover who’s had more years to learn his way around a woman? Maybe, even though you could have your choice of any of the patrons, you found him to be the easy target.

“And where is that?” he asked, making sure to keep his tone steady.

“You can take me home.” You noticed the real shock in his gaze, and for the first time in the encounter a bit of panic seeped into you. Thinking quickly to soften the blow, you explained, “Don’t wanna walk home alone with even a little alcohol in me, and I know you’ll take care of me.”

“Aye, darlin’, that I will.” The honesty in his words stoked your courage back into a steady burn even better than the one brought on by the hard drinks.

Using the hand that had been trailing over his forearm, you loosely held his wrist, slid smoothly from your seat, and began leading him out of the bar. Beckman followed you easily. You didn’t have to put any pressure behind your hold on him; he wouldn’t let you get more than a step ahead of him. Even with his close hover, you both ducked and weaved with practiced grace through the chaos of your crew and the rowdy celebration they’d whipped up with all the other patrons. By the time you’d reached the entrance, you’d ducked three swinging fists, five drunken “dances”, two frisbeed hats, one flung fork, and a pair of tossed shirts.

The door shutting behind you sealed away the cacophony of the crowd, melding it with the comforting ambience of late night bugsong and strangers distantly living their lives. The outside world felt pleasantly chill and calm, especially in contrast to the atmosphere of the bar. The slight bite to the air only made the small contact between the two of you feel that much sweeter in its skin-to-skin warmth. Both you and Beckman sucked in a deep breath of crisp evening air to savor the moment.

Throwing a cheeky (and, to his worry, slightly plotting) smile his way, you began to head in the direction of the docks. You only made it about eight steps. The moment the alley between buildings opened on your right, you yanked Beckman into the shadows with you. He stumbled after you with barely a fight, continuing his emotional flavors of the night: confused, intrigued, and happy to be here. Once you fell past the full streams of light from the street lamps, you spun around to him and pounced.

You began by rooting him in place, fisting your hands tight into his shirt by his waist and stepping so close that your chests and stomachs and hips and thighs touched. You leaned up to place a kiss right above the point in his v-neck, relishing the heat of his skin against your lips. You shivered at the feeling of a twitch of interest against your lower stomach. His hands quickly found your waist and gripped. He worried the flesh under his fingers, earning his first quiet moan from you. It only made his grip stiffen, warring with himself between his disbelief at your advances and the rabid need to pull you closer and make sure you never stopped.

Beckman began to use his hold on you to ease you back from him. You responded with a frustrated whine and greedy hands. Those hands massaged their way across the packed muscles of his sides and chest before twisting in the fabric over his large pecs and tugging him down to your height. Taking advantage of the untouched skin now within reach, you kissed and sucked your way over his collarbone and up his neck.

His plan of retreat crumbled under your advance, leaving him to paw his grip down to the meat of your hips and try not to succumb to the fierce instinct to grind his aching cock against you. Your head spun with your rushing blood and skipping breaths. The whirl was spurred on by finally getting to know the taste of his skin, the feeling of his coveting hands keeping you close, the sound of his stuttering breaths morphing into panting. Now you just needed to spur him from receiving into action.

“Beck, touch me,” you whispered against his ear. He shivered fully from your lips and breath ghosting over him and filling his skin with addictive tingles. Losing his concentration, Beckman guided your hips in one long, sturdy grind against his straining hardness. You nipped his earlobe in appreciation. “I want you to touch me.”

“You’re drunk,” he weakly protested.

“We both know I’m not,” you shot back. Switching your methods, you crawled your hands up his shoulders, his neck, and into his hair. You led him with sweet and teasing kisses against his cheek and jaw, playing with the way his head always tilted to follow your affections in a wanting daze.

“You should look for another man to share your body,” he tried again, this time managing to sound assertive through the breathiness of his voice.

“Do you really want another man touching me?” you bit back at him.

“No,” he instantly growled. The mere idea had always put a pang in his heart but feeling your touch and hearing the words from you made it more real, and he was no match for the spike of angry possessiveness that overtook him.

“Good,” you cooed coyly, lips back against his ear, “because I don’t want that either.” You took a long moment to tease your nails against his scalp and nip the skin next to his pulse. He succumbed to another torturous grind against you. Each press of him gave you a better idea of what he was hiding and had your mind running rampant trying to figure out how it would feel splitting you open.

“I want you,” you moaned, pushing all the genuine need into your voice that you could.

“Come on, pretty thing, you don’t mean that,” Beckman stubbornly argued. He’d sound much more convincing if he wasn’t moaning the words out with his strained rumble, turning the statement into a plea.

“I do though,” you whined back to him, right below his ear where you were working hard to leave another pretty mark. For all his propriety fueled hesitation, Beckman was still leaning down so you could reach his neck and tilting his stubbled jaw away, pleading for more of your attention. “I do mean it.”

Your own desperation and his unspoken pleas for your touch fueled your boldness. One of your hands left his tresses to wedge between your pressed hips and grab a hold of him. A groan shook through his ribs, only encouraging your hand to press and feel more. His cock twitched and jumped under your slow strokes and palming, begging for your touch when he wouldn’t. His cheek fell to your shoulder and his humid panting caressed your neck.

“Pretty girl, if you keep touching me like that,” his speech was interrupted by a poorly restrained moan, “I’m not gonna be able to keep my head.”

“Then don’t,” you encouraged, voice rushed and ravenous and pulling him to the depths of his urges in his new favorite siren song.

Having felt him in your palm, you became set on getting to feel him skin to skin. You wanted to feel the power of the radiant heat that poured from him so strongly you both felt like you were burning through your clothes. You wanted to see what’s been hidden from you, become privy to secrets that will let your fantasies forever hold more reality. You wanted to know he let you have this piece of him, let you take his body and take control of his pleasure. On top of all of that, you wanted to feel, see, and know the thick hardness that was going to stretch you wide open.

In your rush, you only gave yourself time to trail a few kisses down his chest on your way to your knees. Beckman leaned himself back on the wall of the bar, opening himself up to as much of your touch as you would give. He still attempted to keep his defense under the siege of temptation, taking to opening and closing his hands at his sides to keep them from manhandling you. He wasn’t strong enough, however, to push you away. Each touch of yours was teasing him with the heaven he’d been dreaming of finding under your hands and in your body. Now having had a taste of your touch, It’d take nothing short of a gun to the head for him to break from anything you were willing to give. Doesn’t mean he won’t try to steer it so you’re taken care of the way he wants you to be.

He looked down at you, hypnotized by the radiant image of you and your styled hair and your decorated lashes and your smudged lipstick actually kissing him, treating him with the desire he thought impossible. His eyes had long adjusted to the darkness of the alley, blessedly letting him take in this image to hoard forever.

As your knees hit the dirt path, it hit him - alley. You were getting yourself dirty to touch him, basically in public in your rush, stuck in a location with only hard ground and stone walls for comfort. The realization had his cock throb hard, getting an eager moan from you where you were kissing along his length while your fingers made their way under his sash to find the waistline of his trousers. Fuck, this was a dream. It was a dream, but not the one he wanted for you where he takes his time worshiping every inch of skin, treating you like royalty, going slow so when he makes you cum it shakes you from toes to fingertips to the crown of your head-

“Darlin’, you deserve better than some back alley fu-”

“What I deserve is you; now let me have you,” you grumbled back to him, nosing his sash up so you could leave kisses and nips right above the hem of his pants. You inched them lower and lower, following their descent with your hungry mouth and savoring every new speck of skin you could. You got past the ridge of his adonis belt when you realized he had nothing on underneath them, making your mouth water with ever more anticipation. You could tell from the tenseness in his muscles, the tremors in his thighs under your clawing grip, that he was at the end of his rope. Centering a kiss on his happy trail, you looked straight up into his eyes and ordered, “Now fuck me.”

You were just about to get his pants low enough to let his painfully hard cock out to greet with a kiss when an angry hand took hold of the hair at the back of your head. It clamped in a fist and turned, taking absolute control of you. White hot adrenaline poured through your body, bursting fresh with each hard pound of your heart and stuttering your every breath. That iron grip jerked back, forcing you to crane your head back with it and look up at the imposing bulk of Beckman looming over at you.

“You want me to fuck you?” he growled dangerously, leering down at you with a growing scowl. Steadily he curled himself down until his nose bumped yours and you were sure you could see how the lighting and lust had turned his eyes from shining silver to dark stone. The light pulsing in your scalp was no match for the shadowed face and piercing eyes of Beckman taking over your every thought and dragging your heartbeat low to drum between your legs. “Fine. I’ll fuck you like the slut you’re set on being.”

“I’ll happily be a slut if it's for you,” you breathed out before you could think, sounding nearly in a trance from his sudden dominant behavior.

The declaration had his cock jumping and his knees weak.

“Darlin’,” he moaned, voice stretched thin by his taut, straining need. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

He surged down, stealing your lips in a bruising kiss, using his hold on your hair to control every tilt and press. Right away, you opened to each other, exploring the flavor of each other’s tongues and indulging in the tingles brought on by sliding the slick muscles over each other. You shivered and moaned when he flicked the point of his tongue on the roof of your mouth and he swallowed the sound down greedily. Never breaking his claim on your lips, Beckman hauled you up to your feet. The action set a pleasant burn on your scalp as you chase the pull of his grip. Your hands went back to work on getting his cock free, but he snatched them up.

“No,” he rumbled against your lips. “You’re just going to take what I give you.”

“Beckman,” you whined back to him between your continued fervent kisses, “let me touch you.”

“Sluts don’t make demands,” he snapped in a bitter taunt. Using his height to his advantage, he pulled out of the reach of your lips. He was still able to lean down over you and keep distance, forcing you to keep your head craned back with his fist in your hair and his gaze holding you hostage. “I thought this was what you wanted.”

“I want you,” you moaned in complaint. Though your voice was warbly with want, your tone was way too petulant to be considered begging. Even so, it was testing his resolve.

“You’ll have me,” he answered gruffly.

Before you could realize what was happening, you were flipped around and swapped, now facing the rough wall of the bar with Beckman right behind you. He had released your hair so he could trap each of your wrists to your sides. He kicked your feet to spread with heavy boots and settled eagerly against your ass. He anchored you against him by pulling on your wrists, keeping you trapped against his grinding hips. The height difference had him centered at the level of your tailbone. The feeling of having you against his cock was overwhelming, especially with the plush of your ass massaging at his sensitive balls. Quiet grunts accompanied each circle of his hips, always carried with the erotic sound of his heavy breaths.

You tilted forward and arched your hips up, seeking attention against your weeping entrance and swollen clit. The change had his dick nestle between your cheeks, the base of his cock and his tense balls giving you a small piece of the pleasure you were seeking. He stood just barely too tall for them to give any attention to your clit, causing you to shift and shimmy back into him in search of more. Despite the lack of direct stimulation, your body was still in a pleasant buzz; he felt large and heavy and hot against you and your mind was swimming in joy at how hard you made him. The open-mouthed groan you earned from him with your squirming shot enough pleasure through you to have your clit pulsing.

“On your toes, slut,” he ordered.

You listened without thinking about it and were rewarded with the new height lining him up much better to grind against everywhere you wanted him. Well - almost everywhere. Most of all you ached for him to massage you inside out, rub and dig into every slick plush space you could offer. Despite the burn already entering your calves, you tilted your ass up even higher to feel any extra speck of friction you could get from him.

Beckman’s grip on your hips was commanding, he owned your every sway and grind of your clothed cunt and ass against him. The skirt you were wearing was beginning to ride up with each thrust, exposing inch after inch of fresh skin to his hungry eyes. Both of you thanked your choice of garment as he used one hand to shove it up and over your perked ass to hang limply around your waist. It swayed and brushed your legs with each continued motion, hypnotizing Beckman for a moment.

That moment was broken when he instead looked at your ass, smooshed high and round with each grind, your underwear cutting sinful lines across the muscle, making your skin pop around the tension in the most mouth-watering way. It had Beckman moaning from deep in his chest again and thanking whatever lucky stars he had that let him have you in front of him like this. The sight mixed with the new heat from being just that much closer to getting to your bare cunt had a flurry of possessiveness and need overcome him. He nearly bowed forward to the strength of it, but fought the call so he could keep watching your body writhe against him.

You had no doubt you were sopping wet, more than enough to make his slide in slick. Each grind of him against you had your soaked panties dragging with him, causing sharp friction that was just on the right side of too much. You wondered faintly if you were getting his pants wet too, wishing you could easily turn and see to find out. You wouldn’t have been disappointed; a steady dark spot had built on his crotch from a mix of your leaking pussy and his weeping cock. You had gotten him dripping pre-cum the moment you began kissing down his chest. It had only gotten worse with each touch, his body desperate and ready to be inside you.

Suddenly, one of his hands and his hips disappeared from you, leaving you feeling lost. Before you could stop yourself, you let out a whining moan at the loss, sounding fucked out and pathetic without either of you truly being touched yet. The small coherent part of yourself marveled at the number he had done on you.

“Don’t you worry, pretty thing,” Beckman grumbled, half placating and half condescending. The sound of shuffling fabric clued you in to his missing hand’s task. “I’ll give you just what you need.”

His large fingers hooked into the sides of your underwear, guiding them over your ass until they fell down. Your slightly spread legs had them catch on your thighs and Beckman huffed at the inconvenience.

“Stay right there,” he rumbled in warning as he crouched down. He dragged the soaked cloth the rest of the way off, guiding you with gentle cues. The slide of his fingertips down your legs sent tingles across your skin, but the delicate hold he put on each ankle to ease them out of the garment had your heart thumping. In this process his touch switched from tyrannical to reverent, making your mind sing with hope. That song only hit a great crescendo when he peppered the backs of your thighs with sweet and slow kisses.

As he rose back up and shoved the ruined cloth in his pocket, Beckman broke you both out of his worshiping trance by giving a playful and slightly mean nip to your left hip. You let out a little yelp despite yourself and he chuckled at the reaction, finding it absurdly cute. You shivered again at the throaty sound, nerves too easily tweaked from your potent anticipation. It only got worse when his hips found yours again.

Both of you moaned at the feeling of finally meeting skin to skin, immediately addicted to the wet heat and heady throb of each other. You sent your hips high with renewed vigor, spurred on by the need to chase more of the feeling of his thick cock against you. You were right about him being thick and long; his grinds spread your folds wide, exposing your entrance and clit to the sweet friction, and he laid across the length of your pelvis. It let him see the leaking red head of his cock peeking out from between your cheeks, the filthy image making his eyes roll back and an involuntary moan of “fuck, darlin’” growl out of him.

Beckman hooked his right arm around your front, nestling it as close to the tops of your thighs as he could get. It let him use your hip bones for stability in his hold, saving you from your weight crushing the limb into your stomach. The anticipation of feeling your legs bounce against his arm while he fucks you had him salivating.

He curled his arm, pulling your lower back flush to his abs. It made him take your weight, the toes of your shoes just barely scuffing the ground when you pointed them. You’d seen his insane strength before, but feeling it used on you had your body lighting on fire along with your cheering mind. Beckman’s other hand slid from your hip down and in on your thigh, spreading and lifting your leg until he was holding the inside of your knee out to the side. It left your cunt exposed to him, each grind of his further mixing your arousal with the pre-cum spreading down his cock.

“Hold that wall and keep your voice down,” Beckman instructed, “Unless you’re such a whore you need an audience.”

You let out a complaining moan at the harsh words but still writhed eagerly against him, unable to deny how they had you fluttering in anticipation. Your hands found purchase on the stone wall in front of you, giving you a sense of balance and security in your barely supported upper body. You were close to it so your arms were bent, allowing you strength and leverage. The force behind his grinds had you sure you’d need it.

Slowly and deliberately, Beckman slid his cock from root to tip between your slick folds, threatening you with his impressive length while he made sure he was properly coated. He only stalled the movement when his thick tip found its way down to your entrance. Unable to help himself, he ground a tight circle around it, groaning out a deep “fuck” at the feeling of your cunt trying its best to suck him in. You let out another keening moan, sounding vaguely like “please”, at the realization that his head was the perfect width to stretch you out right to the edge of your limits.

Angling his hips just right, Beckman followed the catch of your entrance to start forcing his way into you. You were right about the size of him; only his mushroomed tip was in and you already felt like your hips were being pressed wider. His achingly slow sink into you let you both feel every overwhelming bit of contact, every delicious rub of soaked skin on skin. Your mouth hung open, letting out appreciative moans, even though your attempts to hold them back left them clipped and jumbled.

Beckman had to shut his eyes and scrunch his brow to handle all the sensations flooding him. You felt so goddamn perfect wrapped around him. He felt somewhere in his being that you were made to be here with each other and force bliss from your pounding hearts and bodies. He finally fell to the call to curl as close to you as possible, his temple rested on yours, his stubble teasing your cheek, and stray gray hairs sweeping down to tickle your skin.

“So, so good, darlin’,” he praised breathlessly. He made it another inch into you, offering your cunt more firm flesh to clamp down on. “You feel better than a dream -nnngh- got the perfect pussy for me.”

An unrestrained moan tumbled past your lips at his praise, brain too empty and body too happy to care about anything anymore other than him and the feelings he brought out in you. The cheering and music from the bar was loud enough to lightly leak through the walls, so you wouldn’t have worried too much about attracting attention anyway.

He hadn’t prepped you any, but the abundant arousal sitting in your body so long loosened you up and made sure there was more than enough lubrication for him, especially with the addition of his own. His torturously slow press into you helped your body make room for him too. In fact, your pussy was so eager to open for him he felt like your walls were trying to suck him in quicker as they quaked and trembled around him. It made it near impossible to resist the urge to shove as deep into you as he could go, needing the hot grip of you around his aching cock and the pleasure of your plush ass and thighs pressed tight against his hips.

When he finally got there, you were both shaking and gasping. Your head felt light with the amount of bliss swimming through you at finally having him like this, held tightly in you while you shared your bodies. It also helped that he had you feeling so deliciously full; the press of him was potent enough to spread through your sides and up through your chest. It was the biggest stretch you’d taken but his size was just perfect, like he was built just to fit you and you him. The weight of his thick cock rested down towards your stomach, primed to massage your every favorite nerve.

“Just like that, darlin’,” Beckman groaned, starting his first pull back out of you. He continued with his slow speed to make you feel every ridge and vein in detail. Your favorite was the rim of his head dragging across your swollen walls. He sat that head just within your entrance and paused. “Bein’ such a good little slut.”

Right at the end of his praise, he shoved forward to fully sheathe himself back in you. The force of the thrust pressed the air from your lungs, creating a breathy moan, and gave you a taste of pleasure that had you certain that no matter how long he fucked you, you’d always want more of this potent bliss. You could live like this, fucked the rest of your life, just so long as he never stopped taking and touching you. He continued the strong and steady pace, needing to savor every second in your cunt, memorize every twitch and flutter. It had you whining, mind fraying under the threat of how much more he could give you.

“Beckman,” you moaned in frustration. “Give me more, I -ahhh- I need it.”

A punishing thrust had you feel him in your throat and your eyes rolled back in time with your high pitched moan. That moan turned into a rough whine when he stayed sat fully inside you instead of continuing. To tease you further, he began tight circles against you, making his pulsing cock play with every inch of your cunt, earning him a tight clench from you. This tantalizing rub continued as he moved to nip at your ear lobe.

“What did I say about making demands,” he warned, rumbling the words right against your ear. The puffs of his breaths shot goose bumps up your neck. He tilted his head down to tease his teeth over the flesh and continued his maddening little circles against you. With one leg trapped in his grip and the other barely reaching the ground, you had almost no leverage to work yourself back against him. Your abs burned with the effort as you tried to use your grip on the wall to stabilize yourself and grind back, but his iron grip was much stronger than any of your attempts.

You sobbed out a few needy moans at his continued meticulous playing with your body. Though you wanted so much more right away, that steady press of him waking up every inch of your insides was starting to build a pit deeper in your stomach than the one you were used to. Your mouth watered at the thought of what a full body high it could bring you but it felt so far away and you wanted to be smothered in pleasure now.

“Beckman,” you whined out, catching the way it made his breath hitch over your skin. “More, harder.”

Nothing changed and you were stuck spread open and suspended and at the mercy of his whims. It was the most deliciously frustrating thing you’d ever experienced, being forced to take the slow treatment. It made your body and mind agonize over every little sensation, every pulse and throb, every inch of you he reached that you’d never felt before. It made your ears take in the obscene sound of the little motions of his cock pushing drop after drop of your arousal out of your entrance to drip down his balls and your thigh. You flushed at how graphic it sounded, ears, face, and neck burning, especially with your combined heavy breaths and mixed moans and groans.

“You’re gonna have to try much harder than that, pretty little thing,” he goaded. You could hear the taunting condescension in his voice and you cursed the fact that it made your pussy spasm around him. The twitch of his cock that it earned inside you swelled your desperation to feel more from him until it swallowed your pride whole.

“Please,” you gasped, near truly sobbing in need. “Pleeeeease, fuck me harder, Beck, fuck me faster, please, just -hhhah- just need more.”

Beckman sucked harshly on your neck and set about answering your pleas. He changed right to fucking you fast and hard, making you yelp at the immediate flood of sensation. Your thigh and hips jumped in his grasp as you tried to take the onslaught. Every nerve in your pussy burned in the most beautiful way, emptying your head of any thoughts other than Beckman working your body into a quick frenzy. His teeth, lips, and tongue were decorating the sensitive skin of your neck; his hands and arm were clamped, making you feel blessedly trapped; his torso hovered on the back of yours, giving you brushes of his hard working muscles in motion; and his cock - his perfect cock - was bullying you open over and over and lighting every quaking inch of you ablaze.

Through your panting breaths and scattered moans, you could hear the wet slap of his hips against you, each impact making a little more arousal gush out of you. Being spread as you were also let his heavy balls tap against your clit with each hard thrust, ensuring every wired part of your pussy was seen to. You could barely form words but you were sure he caught the slurred praises you sent his way from how he echoed them back and kept adding more and more heat, pressure, grind, suck, and drag on you at your breathless moaning.

Stuck on the start of the encounter, he kept repeating a favored phrase to you - “So good, darlin’, such a good fucking slut”.

“Your slut,” you panted, “only -hnngh- yours.”

The pledge of ownership had his eyes rolling back and his mouth more ravenous against your skin. He needed to keep you locked to him forever, be on your skin forever, brand you as his, and have you mark him as yours.

“That’s right, darlin’,” he rasped, “only mine.”

He dropped your suspended thigh in favor of sinking a bruising grip into your hip. Your thighs clapped together with a wet smack, forcing a yelp from you as it jolted your clit. He placed an apologetic kiss on your shoulder and got right back to his tempo. The deep pressure he’d built with his deliberate grinding was now added to by every thrust, creating a shaking warning of the orgasm to come that sat from hip to hip and up to your ribs. It felt like he was fucking you just as deep, each drive of his cock seeming to replace the beating of your heart in your chest.

The new dancing on your toes had your calves, thighs, and abs working in sporadic clenches and twitches, the jerks and shifts causing pulses around your clit and into your trembling cunt. The new position made him feel all the wider as it let your labia relax around him and light up with delicious friction on each thrust in and pull out. The squeeze of your legs and muscles also put constant pressure on your clit, which Beckman would jostle with each forceful fuck into you.

All of it was getting to be too much and you were happily drowning under the rising tide of that threatening orgasm. It was swimming through your body so thoroughly you were sure you could feel each strong thrust pull pleasure from your very bones. Every piece of you that lived between your hips felt blinding white hot and pulsing and alive and so so very good.

The cherry on top of your euphoria were the pieces of the feeling you could hear echoed in Beckman. His voice was deep and groaning but also strained and fucked out as it whispered dark praises against your neck and shoulder. His breath was ragged and just as desperate as his touch, which was trying its best to permanently attach to your skin. His aching cock was just as responsive as your trembling pussy, dripping and twitching and jumping with each move and touch of your body.

Responding to the telling grip of your cunt clamping down constantly around him, Beckman slowed his pace slightly, focusing instead on the strength of each thrust and keeping his angle just right to drag you to your end. It accented the sound of each strong clap of his hips into yours and brought back clarity to the feeling of his thick cock spearing you. Your mouth hung open, panting and watering from the change of pace and unending pound and pull of him fucking your cunt into the shape of him.

“Beckman, Beckman, Beckman -ahh!- so cloooose,” you cried, voice thin and desperate. He cursed and moaned in response, the sound of you nearly making him lose himself and cum before you. He kept his pace pounding into you, each firm fuck lighting up your tightening walls and bouncing through your swollen folds and thighs to drum on your clit. Your head was swimming; despite your fast and canting breaths, you felt like you couldn't breathe, the air escaping you with each thrust beating a needy moan from your open mouth. The burn for oxygen only added to the tightly wound pleasure gripping you from throat to cunt, clawing tightest from your hips in, held steady between his sturdy hands.

Your toes and fingers tingled numbly in anticipation and shook just like the rest of you. Instinct tilted your hips just a degree higher, letting the tip of his dick tap just so against your cervix, ramping the overwhelming build even higher than you thought possible. Your moans yelped out sharper and higher amid sobs of “don’t stop, don’t stop, pleeeeease”, making Beckman groan and curse in his own mind-numbing arousal and frantic fight not to cum first.

A few more thrusts blazing across your cunt and shaking deep in your gut had the tension finally burst. You felt it first in the shot of electricity from your clit down to your toes and up to your buzzing head, before the tight pulse of your muscles took over everything. You writhed and shook against Beckman as he held you like a lifeline, trying desperately to fuck you through every second of heaven you could feel instead of following you over the edge. Each jerk and clench of your body gave you more and more bliss, the squeeze of you so tight and sure that it felt like there was only room for Beckman’s large cock in your body.

He couldn’t manage to pull even an inch out of your cunt, too weak to deny himself the bliss of feeling you cum, so he guided you through with shallow but heavy thrusts. Each tap on your cervix swelled you more and more until you weren’t sure if you had already cum or there was something else building on the other side of this endless screaming song in your nerves. Your answer came with the feeling of a snap that switched your cunt from long pulses into frantic milking down on Beckman’s jolting cock. Each squeeze was powerful enough to cause a full jerk and shudder of your hips, having you slip and grind in Beckman’s clawing hold on your hips.

“Fuck, darlin’, sweetheart, fu-uuuck, you’re too good, too much -ngah!- so goddamn perfect,” Beckman moaned out a stream of mindless praises while he shoved his forehead into the side of your neck, your only anchor in the torrent of sensation ripping through your body. After an eternity, your muscles and nerves began to relax, leaving your body feeling limp and heavy in the wake of your pleasure. You were positive nothing worked anymore except for your clit and cunt, both still drooling and twitching over Beckman’s shallow thrusts. You were thankful your closed legs kept the attention from overstimulating you fully. Beckam felt your body relax, getting an addicting sense of pride from fucking you into a limp puddle, and finally took to chasing his own pleasure.

“Need to see you,” he gasped, flipping you around and desperately pressing his twitching cock back into you. He shuddered at the relief, feeling ravenous and untethered every second he couldn’t be inside you. All his sanity was now held in the taste of your skin, the pleasure in your voice, and the sweet clench of your plush cunt. Pressing your foreheads together, he made it impossible to look anywhere but at each other. Even in the low light that managed to sneak between the buildings with you, Beckman’s silver eyes glowed while taking you in. The color looked sharper pressed thin by his lust-blown pupils and you were hypnotized as his gaze swallowed you whole.

Seeing the needy scrunch of his brows and the way he switched back and forth between clenching his jaw and hanging his mouth open to moan freely sent fresh sparks straight down to your clit. Having your legs spread around him had his racing thrusts teetering you on the edge of overstimulation, but it was well worth the sight and feeling of him rabidly chasing down his pleasure in your cunt. He was mindless and rutting in his need, enjoying your sopping heat contrasting with your nails scrabbling for purchase on his broad shoulders. The hug of your thighs around his waist kept him close and added to the wondrously tight clench of you that seemed to spread over his whole body. He was so, so close he just needed one little nudge.

“Beckman, please, need you -hahhn- need you to cum in me,” you begged, tone broken from all your moaning.

He was kicked right over the edge, barking out a deep “fuck” at the power of the orgasm shredding through him. He jerked his lips down to yours, holding you in an open mouthed kiss full of tongue and teeth and groans. He shoved himself as close as he could get to you, trapping you near painfully tight against the stone wall with his pressing bulk, demanding lips, and throbbing cock. His dick jumped hard with each pump of hot sticky cum deep in your cunt. It warmed you inside out and mixed with the heady knowledge that you’d completely unraveled this imposing man to unexpectedly drag you into a milder orgasm of your own. Each heavy jerk of him helped guide you through your own bliss, bodies working in perfect synch to have every pump answered with a coaxing squeeze. It kept you both suspended in your mindless heaven until you’d wrung every bit of pleasure from each other that your bodies could possibly give.

Beckman was certain that you’d sucked his very soul from him if the numb and clumsy feeling of his body was anything to go by. It wasn’t ready to listen to him, acting like it belonged to someone else and he supposed that was true; it was yours now. You’d held his heart a long time and his mind even longer, so it was only fitting that you owned his body too.

You didn’t seem to be doing much better with being in charge of your body, eyes half-lidded and lashes fluttering against the need to close. You were a vision - your foggy and affectionate gaze glued to him from under dark lashes, the flush tinting your sweat-damp skin, your lips parted and kiss-swollen, hair a wild crown around your head, decorating your face with stray strands. He studied and admired the image of you fucked-out and languid with eagerness and reverence. You were doing much the same, enjoying his mussed silver waves of soft locks, his gently shining eyes, the hints of red on the apples of his cheeks and his chest, the heavy rise and fall of his sculpted shoulders as he tried to catch his breath.

The sound of a drinking song spiking high in volume snuck through the wall and shattered your illusion of privacy. You were both suddenly back against the side of the bar instead of whatever pocket world you had carved out for just yourselves. Beckman continued to hold you steady as he slowly let your tired legs down, your skirt following after to hang back in place. Your legs shook under you like it was your first time standing and you laughed at their clumsiness. Beckman cracked a loving smile at you, stealing your breath and halting your chuckles. Again the melody within the bar seeped out to you clearly and you laughed even louder this time when you recognized one of Shanks’ favorite tunes. While he tucked himself away, Beckman raised a brow at your cackling until he recognized the song too and added his own gentle laughter to yours.

Looking him straight in the eyes, you fought to sing along properly through your bubbling giggles.

“I took that lass and smacked her ass

Said darlin you’re comin’ with me”

He took your hips and pulled you to him, guiding you in the closest to a swaying dance that your uncooperative legs would allow. He quietly joined you on the next lines, treating you to the deep and raspy parts of his voice that lived in his chest.

“Ain’t got a hall but we’ll use the wall

Just give me an hour or three”

“What do you say, darlin’?” Beckman asked with humor dancing in the light reflections in his eyes. There was a seriousness underlying his tone in his next question, however. “Willing to give me a few more hours?”

You gave him a sweet smile but turned it coy, your attitude sneaking back as your mind stabilized. “You’ve got one to convince me to keep you.”

Beckman huffed out a laugh at your bite coming back and leaned down to kiss your forehead affectionately. He took a moment to rest his cheek atop your head, breathing in the smell of your shampoo, delicately tinged with a touch of sweat and sex. It had him shiver and start to twitch back to life. Slowly, he trailed kisses from the top of your head to the tip of your ear. His warm breath made you shiver and begin to heat again as well.

“Sweet darlin’,” Beckman mumbled, lips tickling the rim of your ear, “I’ll have you back to begging for me in half the time. Gotta show you that I don’t just know how to fuck; I can worship.”

#beckman x reader #benn beckman #one piece #thirst hours #benn beckman x reader #beckman x you #beckman x y/n #x reader #fem reader #one piece smut #benn beckman smut #x reader smut #my writing

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pupkashi · 1 year

Text

grocery shopping

you learn gojo is terrible to grocery shop with

a/n: hi guys !! i hope you enjoy this lil thing I’ve put together :] I’ll get to requests soon !!

masterlist

gojo’s still half asleep when he opens his eyes and sees you pulling his hoodie over your head, smiling at him and placing a quick kiss on his nose

“morning angel face” you whispered, he couldn’t stop the smile on his face, “mornin sweets” his voice was deeper and a blush spread to your cheeks

“where ya goin without me?” he smiled, extending his arms out and pulling you into his chest, a small squeal leaving your lips as you landed comfortably on his firm chest

his arms wrapped around you securely, smiling into your neck as he peppered it with kisses, “grocery store, wanna come?” you managed to wiggle out of his arms, sitting upright next to him

“do i get to pick out candy?” there was a twinkle in his still half lidded eyes as he spoke, you rolled your eyes and sighed, “one candy, we still have like 30 from the last trip”

a small ‘yay’ left his lips as you got out of bed and continued to get ready, satoru following suit quickly and getting ready, humming along to the music you were playing

when you arrived to the grocery store gojo smiled, already beginning to speak

“you’re on cart duty” you smiled sweetly as your boyfriend frowned, “i am so much better than cart duty!” he protested, already pushing the cart besides you as you walked up to some lemons

“okay, which of these is better?” you handed him the lemons, satoru eyed them, squeezing them both a bit before holding up the tougher lemon

“this one is just perfect!” his chest was puffed a bit and you smiled, shaking your head and taking the lemons from him, “that one has no juice and would be a waste of money” you spoke, mumbling a small ‘sorry lemon’ before grabbing a couple other better ones

“that’s why you’re on cart duty, toru” gojo only sighed, his shoulder slumping a bit, “i also need someone strong to help me push the cart when it gets full” his ears flushed and he stood up straighter, a small smile on his face

as you reached the produce you grabbed a couple bags, picking and choosing a couple things you had already run out of

satoru stood next to you, one hand on the cart and the other on his chin, “do we need celery?” “no we have some still” “oh okay”

a beat of silence, “do we need coriander?” “there’s still some from last time” “okay”

“do we need…. kale?” you shook your head, placing the couple bags of produce in the cart and motioning for gojo to continue on next to you

“we do need some potatoes if you wanna go grab a couple?” he smiled brightly, taking a bag from your hands and heading off

you finished grabbing a couple other fruits and vegetables you were missing and made it to the potatoes, finding your lover still pondering over the two potatoes in his hands

“those are two very good contenders” you spoke, looking at your boyfriend and smiling as his snowy hair covered his eyes a bit, his brows furrowed slightly as he examined the potatoes

“i don’t know which would be better” he mumbled, “d’you use your six eyes on em” you giggled and he only rolled his eyes, “just put them both in, I’ll find a way to use them” he smiled as he placed them in the bag

“see! I’m better than cart duty” a proud smile on his face as you agreed, “perhaps i judged you too harshly”

he’ll run back and forth weighing the produce and printing out their labels, the biggest smile on his face when he puts them in the cart

gojo would watch as you picked out different cuts of meat, listening carefully as you explained what you would make with each cut

he’d sneak in his favorite cut of meat and look at you with puppy eyes when you reached to put it back (you didn’t put it back)

he’d reach anything you needed from the top shelves despite you being able to reach some of them

“don’t worry butterscotch, I’ve got it” he smiled, easily grabbing the bottle from the top shelf and placing it the cart, your face flushing at the stupid nickname he’d never once called you before as the couple passing behind you tried their best to hide the smile on their faces

talks you into getting way too many snacks !!

“oh but sweets after missions i need gummy worms to keep my sugar levels steady!” “satoru you liar” “I’m being serious! when i come home and DIE the blood will be on your hands y/n”

“fine get the gummy worms” you sigh, smiling as he cheers and tosses three bags into the cart, walking a couple steps before staring at the caramel candies and turning to look at you, already opening his mouth to talk you into buying them

“absolutely not gojo” you say sternly, recalling the last time he ate half the bag in one sitting, subsequently bouncing off the walls and annoying you until the sun came out again

after a grueling trek through the dairy section you’re finally headed to the cash register, you stepping back and allowing satoru to place everything on the conveyor belt

you two place bets on what the price will be, he’s so certain it’s not that expensive, you shaking your head with a smile as you shake on your bet “if it’s under $150 i get to buy as many candies as i want next time” he’s grinning widely as you shake on it

within seconds his world shatters and the price racks up into the $190’s, you only smile as he mumbles under his breath, taking his card out and paying for the groceries

he definitely does all in how power to try and take all the bags in one go

“I’m the strongest! I can take them all!” his brows furrowed and his sunglasses barely balancing on the tip of his nose

you’re giggling as he tumbles into the kitchen, setting everything down quickly and breathing heavily, flopping on the couch with a dramatic sigh

you’re quick to put the groceries away, shooing away your lover when he tries to help, only to put thing in the wrong places and almost drop the bottle of wine you’d bought for cooking

when you’re finally done, you’re sighing and flopping on top of satoru, who happily embraces you, squeezing you tightly and kissing your cheek

“y’know i think next time i could be upgraded from cart duty” he mumbles against your neck and you only smile, humming in faux agreement

sure satoru wasn’t the best at picking out produce, or practicing self restraint for sweets, but he was the best company for making an errand a great time <3

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru one shot #gojo satoru drabble #gojo satoru fanfic #gojo satoru headcanons #domestic!gojo satoru

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grippingbeskar · 1 year

Text

bad shoulder

frank castle x fem!reader

warnings: adult content minors dni! (mxf, f receiving, nothing crazy) swearing, mentions of canon typical violence

a/n: this is dedicated to and requested by @lemon-world1 who’s birthday it was a few days ago IM SO SORRY THIS IS LATE but it is here! i hope you had an amazing day, and i really hope this is what you wanted!!!! sending so much love to you. its been a while since i just wrote a lil frank thing and damn i missed it okay bye.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You got a second?” Frank Castle’s familiar head pokes around the corner of your tent, traces of dried blood still caked in his short hair.

“Always for you.” You sing out, and he smiles, the sight sending warmth all the way through you. You turn to face him, and he isn’t shy about the way he looks you up and down, brown eyes trailing down your body before he remembers himself and focuses elsewhere. You always manage to get at least a little flustered when he comes in— especially when he’s all happy and smiling. He’s impossible not to want, and living on a base in the middle of a battlefield, there’s not a whole lot to do around here but sit and wait for him to show up.

It had been a long day, like it always was. You hadn’t even seen the sun rise before you were called in, soldiers that were never fully recovered still nursing old, aggravated injuries from whatever they’d been doing for the past 12 hours. From bad knees to wasted tendons and shattered bones, sometimes there wasn’t a lot you could do but make them as comfortable as possible and take away some of the pain, even if it was temporary.

Frank could come in and stand in the corner without saying a word and it’d make your day. It was stupid, but it was the truth. He just had that effect on you. It didn’t matter what time of the day it was, he just managed to surge adrenaline through you at the sight of him— you’d nearly forgotten your work the second he stepped in.

“Make yourself comfortable. I’ve got a few things to finish up and then I can help you out.” He nods and thanks you again, and you busy yourself with papers you don’t remember pulling out, trying your hardest to slow your racing heart down to an acceptable rate.

When you turn back to him, he’s already taken his shirt off, sitting with his legs over the side of the table. He’s so tall his boots still plant firmly on the ground, and you know it’s ridiculous— you know, but there’s something about the way he’s just so big—

“Your shoulder still bothering you?” Your brain manages to form words that make sense, while your heart rate is still flying uncomfortably close to a heart attack as he shrugs his shoulders. He rolls them out, each muscle defined and contracting with the movement, and your hands clench at your sides.

“Yeah. Gotta carry some of the packs for the medic on our squad, but it’s fucking killing me.” He rolls his neck next, but with the movement he winces. His eyes squeeze shut and his whole body shudders— the sight switching you from a fumbling mess to a professional in an instance. You know Frank— if he’s coming to you for help, he must be in some serious pain.

“Can’t someone else take the weight? I could write a report, let the sargent know?” You move behind him, the definition of each muscle practically shimmering under the full light of your tent. You peek over his shoulder, and he angles his head just so you can see the genuine surprise in his face.

“You can do that?”

“I’m not just here to hang out with you, you know. I do have a job here.” You laugh, and you can see his body slump a little as he joins you.

“I didn’t mean it like that— but nah. It’s okay. Coopers still got that bug leg, so I just gotta get this fixed.” Typical of Frank, but you’d probably write the report up anyways. It wouldn’t hurt, and Frank would never admit to anyone but you that the pain was genuinely bothering him.

You were the only person he seemed to let himself be vulnerable with, show any kind of weakness with. You’d seen him around base, and knowing what a pissing contest it is out there, it didn’t surprise you that when he found a moment of peace, it didn’t take a a lot for him to open up. You try to tell yourself it’s because he doesn’t have to worry about showing you up like he does everyone else around here, but you can’t help the part of your mind that wanders to the possibility that he might just like your company. Finds it easy to trust you and let his guard down.

“I’m gonna touch you now, okay? Work the same place as last time?” Once you get confirmation, your hands drift over the familiar position, but as soon as you apply pressure he sucks in a sharp breath. “That hurts?”

“It’s fine.” He says through his teeth.

“You have to tell me if it hurts, Castle. Job, remember?” He laughs again, but you can tell he’s still pulling away from you. “It’s okay. We can work up to that. Tell me what happened today.”

“Same old. You know how it— oh, fuck.” He grunts when you dig your fingertips into a spot that you know is connected to his old injury. “How it is.”

“Lay down.” He moves slowly— too slow to be in any kind of working order. You try to take the pressure off his shoulder as he turns to lay face down, but he’s still holding himself up and favouring one side. When he’s finally flat, you start softly, kneading your hands in slow circles around the connecting muscles. You listen to the sounds he makes— low grunts of either pain or pleasure, but both of them send butterflies fluttering in your stomach like no one else.

You start to span your hands down his back, letting the palm of your hand apply more pressure the further away from his shoulder you get. He sighs deeply, and after a few minutes he’s gone pliant under your touch. His head rolls to one side when you drift your hands up to his neck, another low groan escaping from somewhere in his chest.

When he’s finally relaxed, you press further. You check in as your hands slide along the base of his shoulder blade, and you’re only met with a gruff keep goin’ before you return to your original spot. He sighs, shifting closer to your side of the table, and the warmth of his skin touching you in all kinds of places has you blinking rapidly, your vision starting to go fuzzy.

Keeping your mind on the task at hand, you manage to kill a few more minutes like this; gentle circles and soft touches before you decide he’s ready to move.

“You still with me?” You break the silence, and he just huffs like you’ve woken him up. He still moves slowly when he gets up, but there’s no pain there. No— he was just relaxed. Tired, probably, but relaxed. “It’s feeling better than last time. You’ve been doing those stretches I told you about?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Your hands return to his shoulder and apply more pressure. He leans into the touch, head falling forward and sighing again. You ignore how much the response made your head swim.

“Everyday?”

“Yes, ma’am.” God— he was gonna kill you.

“And no more of those sandbag throws, yeah? Or those weighted pull ups?” When you don’t get an answer, you shake him with your hands. “Hey. Don’t fall asleep.”

“M’not. I’m ignoring the question.” You laugh, your hands stilling on his shoulder as you feel the muscle movement ease entirely. “I gotta keep my reputation up, or the new guys get cocky.”

“God forbid— because you are the picture of humble.”

“Damn right.” He leans back slightly, his back brushing against your chest. He doesn’t move when he feels how close you are, and though your hands aren’t on him anymore and the session is clearly over, you don’t move either. “Missed seein’ you.”

“You don’t have to rip your shoulder out of its socket to come see me, you know.” He’s facing straight forward, but every word you say has him shuffling further and further back into you.

“You sayin’ you wanna see me outside here?” He says softly, his head turning ever so slightly towards your own.

“Maybe.” You want to take the words back as soon as you’ve said then, but then he surprises you by turning suddenly, looking you right in the eye.

Your heart stops. Time stops, practically. You know you shouldn’t do this. You need to draw a line in the sand, tell him to move back. To look forward. To leave, even. You were at work, and he was just a… well. He wasn’t just another client— and that was the fucking problem.

He was so close to you, every short breath he took was loud in your ear. You didn’t have to bend to be face to face with him, not with how straight he’s sitting and how fucking close he is. You were at the perfect height to indulge all those fantasies you shouldn’t have, should never act on but God did you want to.

He turns even more, rotating so his chest facing you and his nose brushes against your own. You can’t help the way your eyes flutter closed in anticipation— it was too late to pull away. He was too tempting and he was right there. So close to you, no longer at arms length, and so when he brings one gentle hand to the side of your face, you don’t even think about pulling away.

Your heartbeat was in your ears, sounds of the outside floating away until all you could hear was the pounding of your anxious heart and Franks low, shuddering inhale. Your eyes dare to flutter open for just half a second, and you can see his own flitting over your face— searching for something. Rejection, anticipation, something that he was looking for, but he either finds it or he doesn’t, because whatever it was is enough to have him leaning just a slight inch forward and pressing his mouth to yours.

It’s so slow you nearly faint. Adrenaline is coursing through your veins, and his other hand comes to your hip, drawing you in to press against his warm skin. His tongue glides along your bottom lip, and your mouth opens, wanting to drink him and this moment in as much as possible.

He tastes like dirt and blood, and it’s so fucking addicting that your tongue tangles with his for another taste. He kisses you softer than you imagined, like he’s waiting for you to pull away. You try to bend closer, your hands sliding up into his cropped hair and sealing his mouth to yours. The groan of approval you get is enough for him to lose a little bit of that control. He groans your name into your mouth, and you squeeze your eyes shut tighter. When he groans again your feet leave the ground, Frank hauling you up onto the small table in one swift movement, putting you on your knees next to him.

His mouth never leaves yours in the shuffle, hand tangled in your hair as he gets a little rougher— hungrier for a deeper kiss. The need makes your head spin, and his free hand hooks under your legs to pull you across him, your legs naturally falling to either side of his muscles thighs.

You moan instantly at the feeling, Frank pushing your hips down to connect with his own. Your arms hook lazily around his neck, his own roaming from your hips up and down your sides. He’s languid with the movements, content to take his time to feel your body, fingers slipping under your shirt where goosebumps follow in his wake wherever he touches you.

“Fuck, baby.” He groans into you, and you shudder when his hips buck upwards. It’s almost like he’s encouraging it, wanting you to use him like this, hearing the way your breathless moans get higher and higher every-time he does it. “You like that?”

You can’t form a reply, just nodding as your head rolls to the side. His lips drop down, scorching heat under your jaw and down your neck. You can feel the cool kiss of his teeth as they drag lightly against your pulse point, and at the same time Frank grinds his hips up again. The sensation hits you like a truck, and you’re sighing out his name like a song in the next second.

“Oh, Frank.” You bury your head in the crook of his neck, and he hums in response and repeats the movement. He knows just where to roll your hips, the rough fabric of his pants creating the perfect friction, and a few more minutes like this and you’d be cu—

Three loud knocks on the door nearly make you scream in surprise and frustration.

“Hey, you in there? Any chance you got a couple minutes before rollcall? Need you to work your magic on this knee.” Fucking hell. You knew that voice, and it wasn’t one you could dismiss.

You were panting so hard you couldn’t reply right away, and Frank was just staring at you. His eyes were blown wide— not even blinking as he gripped the side of the table, knuckles white with restraint.

“Y-yep! Just a sec!” You scramble, trying to put yourself back together while Frank sits there, unmoving. You manage to get behind him, throwing Franks shirt at him just before the officer walks in and gets an eyeful of Franks painfully obvious boner. “Colonel Fields! I’m just finishing up with Castle, then I can help you out.”

“Sounds good.” The older man walks into the room, taking a seat in your office chair and nodding at Frank. “Lieutenant.”

You seem to have found your footing a little quicker than Frank, jabbing him in the back to prompt a fucking reply.

“C-Colonel. Ow.” He sucks in a breath as you dig your hands into his lower back pretending to do something productive, but then he sighs and drops his head when you ease up.

He’s as taut as ever, but you go easy on him considering what just happened. What… what did just happen? One second you were joking with him, laughing like friends, and the next you were kissing him. More than that— fuck, you probably would have let him have you right here on the table if he had kept going.

There’s another low, drawn out groan from Frank, and the sound has you pressing your thighs together. It’s the same one he breathed through your kiss when you were on top of him— and from the pained grunt that follows it, he’s remembering it too.

“You alright there, Lieutenant?” Colonel Fields calls to Frank, and you don’t know what his face looks like right now, but clearly it’s not hiding anything very well.

“Fine. Good. I’m gonna— I think I’m good.” He’s off the table in a second, slipping out from your practically outstretched arms.

“I’ll only be a second, if you need to—“ He was already shaking his head before you finished your sentence. Did he not want… Jesus, did he not want to finish what you started as badly as you do? He was walking straight for the door.

“All good. Thanks. I’m— good. I’m good.” He says, not looking you in the eye, and then he’s gone, leaving both you and Colonel Fields confused, and you a little cold.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When you finally drag your body to your room, you feel like you’ve been hit by a freight train. You’ve had long days before, but this one is so much more draining. It’s like your heart has been wrung out and shoved back into your chest, and now you just have to walk around with this squished thing in your body that refuses to work properly.

Yes, you were dramatic. But you had a right to be! Frank had— well, he’d done all that, only to run out of the tent and disappear for the entire day. It’s not like you expected flowers and a proposal, but he was outright ignoring you.

Not so much as a text— no looks in the hallway, nothing. Even when he’d usually catch you for lunch, something that would have been ordinary and in his schedule, he wasn’t there. He could just be caught up with something, but your mind couldn’t help but wander to the possibility that you’d jumped the gun or read the room wrong.

You fell backwards onto your bed, the air rushing out of your lungs in a giant whoosh. You’d been harbouring feelings for Frank for so long, and you’d done so well at keeping them in check and at bay, no matter how many flirty smiles and sweet comments he made. But one moment of weakness— one look too long and too close was all it took for you to crack and have your entire heart and career shatter in one go.

Then you hear it— three soft but sure knocks on your door. When you swing it open, you don’t know if your surprised or expectant.

“Frank?”

“Hey, sweetheart. You gonna let me in?” You hesitate for just a moment, worried what he’s going to say. “I’m freezing my ass off out here. Please.”

You watch him shiver in front of you, and it’s only then you look down and see he’s just wearing boxers and the same shirt from this morning, as well as his combat boots, untied with no socks. You just step out of his way and hurry him inside, noting the snow piled up at your door and how late it must be considering the sun had long disappeared.

“Fucking hell. Its fuckin’ cold.” He says through gritted teeth, and you still haven’t said a word, but hand him a towel so he can dry off the fallen snow resting in his short hair. “Thanks.”

“Why aren’t you wearing more clothes?” The question slips out. Not that you were…complaining. But it was snowing outside.

“Yeah… kinda got caught in the barracks. Didn’t wanna waste time and walk all the way… are you alright?”

“You’re freezing— here.” You hand him one of his old jackets he’d given you months ago, and he takes it quickly, shrugging it over his shoulders. “You dissipated kind of fast. I just… sorry. This is weird. I don’t know what to say?”

“You don’t wanna talk, we don’t have to. I’ll…” He steps forward, a hand hooking under your chin to force your eyes up to him, “I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

“Wanted you to talk to me today.” You mumble and he grunts, shaking his head. “You were avoiding me. I thought you—“

“No, baby. No. Fuckin’ Fields has been on me since I deployed. He’d take any chance to send me home, and anyone I gave a shit about, too.” His hand hasn’t left you, though the other one stays pinned to his side.

“Oh. You— no, that makes total sense. You should definitely of— Of course! Yeah.” You make a complete dick of yourself trying to find a sentence that doesn’t make you sound insecure, and he steps into you, his body like a warm blanket.

“Doesn’t mean I wasn’t thinkin’ about you all damn day.” His breath his hot against your skin, and he presses a kiss under your ear before he continues. “Were you thinkin’ about me?”

“Mhmm.” Your eyes are closed, but you can feel him. Feel his proximity— how his other hand leaves his side and rests on your hip, tugging you into him. There isn’t an inch of him you can’t feel, and the hard lines of his toned stomach tighten as he bends down further.

“You wanna pick up where we left off, sweetheart? Let me show you what I been meaning to do to you since I fuckin’ met you?” Your jaw falls open and you nod again. He takes his chance, groaning your name once more before devouring you into a searing kiss.

He’s unbelievably big, dwarfing your size under neath him as he moves his hands lower and starts to tug at your sweatpants. You shuffle as best you can to help him, but you’re too occupied with the way he’s kissing you to do anything but squirm against him. He’s kissing you like he’s hungry for it, like there’s something desperate and sweet inside of you he’s never had before. It makes your head spin to think he might want this just as bad as you do.

He walks backwards, falling with a grunt onto your bed, tugging you on top of him. It’s the same as this morning, expect now there’s even less between you. Just the thin fabric of your underwear and his boxers seperate you from each other, but he’s no less intense with the way he moves you in slow circles while he licks into your mouth.

“Fuck.” He mutters and pulls himself away, mumbling as he rips your shirt over your head. He kisses you everywhere he can reach— craning his head to press his mouth to your collarbones, down your chest, feeling his hands run up to touch you where his mouth can’t.

He flips you over, your back hitting the soft covers of your bed and crawls over you. His arms cage you in, mouth repeating the motions and tasting your skin further down. He’s so slow about it— hardly even doing this for you. His mouth is as warm as his skin, trailing his way down until his short hair tickles the skin of your inner thighs. You can’t take your eyes off him, how easy he fits himself between your legs, shoulders spreading you open.

He breathes out, setting himself down between your legs, toying with the soft fabric of your underwear. His fingertips are rough, but his touch gentle, tracing the lines of your hips and sending zaps of pleasure up your body.

“So pretty, baby.” The words hit your skin, and you squirm under his hands when they hook under your underwear. He drags them down quickly, your hands toying with the short strands of his hair. Franks eyes meet yours, and you swear he gives you a cocky little smile before he sinks lower and your eyes squeeze shut.

His mouth is on you in the next second, burying himself between you. You feel the warm touch of his mouth swirl around you, arms hooking around your lower half and holding you down. You don’t want to move, don’t want to interrupt the intensity of his touch but you can’t help it— it’s all too much and you want to dive into it. Everything hot and sparkling sizzles up your spine, and you arch off the bed in such surprise when you feel his mouth seal over your clit.

You squeeze your eyes shut harder, a near painful grip on his hair yanking him both into you and away. He’s too strong, too overpowering to even notice your efforts, and you thank God he doesn’t fucking stop. You were whining pathetically now— his name echoing in high pitched in the small room. You feel him smile, your jaw going slack just thinking about what he looks like.

“Keep sayin’ my name— fuckin’ sounds good when you say it.” He leans back only slightly, and you gasp when you feel him lean his head against your thigh. The feeling of him— his mouth fucking wet with the taste of you, feeling the soft puff of his breath against your skin as he catches himself. Then he wraps his arms around your thighs and tugs you down the bed. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Keep going, fuck—“ You whimper, trying to smooth your hands through his hair in an attempt to be nicer. He grins lazily, and then stares right into your eyes as he spits into your pussy and buried his face into you again.

Everything burns red hot, and your legs clamp around his head as he speeds up. One arm is enough to hold you down, the other snaking up our side and interlocking with your hand. You can’t keep your eyes open— everything going blurry as your eyes roll back and you feel yourself spinning in all directions.

You must say something— his name, maybe, because he groans and flattens his tongue, letting you grind your hips up and into him. If you could manage to open your eyes you’d stare back at him— let him watch as you fall apart in a way only he can break you.

Frank keeps a pace— fucking you with his tongue and swirling around the bud of nerves in such a messy but fiery way that you can’t hold it. Everything gets white hot and your back arches again, fingertips digging into his scalp and hand, and you know it’s cliche but you swear you can see stars.

Frank doesn’t stop, just slows down and works you through the shocks of pleasure that jolt up your core, feeling the way you shudder as you cum in his mouth. When your squirming too much for him to hold you still, he drags his mouth up your body. Again, he kisses his way up, but this time it’s messy. He’s not just kissing— he drags teeth and tongue along your hip bones, marking his way up to your chest and neck. You’ll be covered in the evidence, and you only lean closer, wanting more.

“Fucking hell, Frank.” His hands slide up your sides while yours palm him through his boxers, and he shudders your name. “Fuck, I want you so bad.”

“Do you, pretty girl?” He groans in your ear, and your stomach flips at the name. You bite your lip and nod, staring up at him and he grins. “You liked that, huh?”

“I know something I’d like more.” Blinking innocently, you slip your hand under his boxers and wrap your hand around his hard length. He cuts himself off with a choked gasp, leaning back down and kissing you messily.

You let him take what he wants, pressing his hips into the slow, teasing movement of your hand as you slowly slide his boxers off. The feeling of his skin on yours lights something on fire inside you, and while he’s nearly drunk on the taste of your mouth, you shove him easily onto his back. You’re quick about it, not giving him a second to breathe when you’re sinking down on his cock, earning another long, low groan.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck.” He gasps out, hands gripping your hips tightly. You roll forward slightly, feeling him hit something that makes you shiver, and he helps you chase the feeling. He moves you with no effort, bucking his hips and grinding you in out of rhythm thrusts, his eyes screwed tightly shut like he was in pain. “Oh god, baby don’t stop.”

“Feels good, Frankie.” His jaw goes slack with another stuttered moan of your name, while his hands touch you wherever they can reach. He glides up your stomach, over your ribs, your breasts, until he reaches your face where he hauls you downwards into another bruising kiss.

“Fucking… so perfect. Thought about this… fuck, that’s it. God that’s fuckin’ it.” He slurs between kisses, and he moves faster, rougher as he fucks you dizzy. It’s numbing and electrifying all at once, the grip of his hands on your face forcing you to stare into his half lidded eyes. “Such a pretty girl. Just keep lookin’ at me. Just like that.”

His free hand wraps around your lower back, his name coming out high pitched and drawn out as you call it over and over again. He kisses you, words mumbled into your mouth but the pleasure is too overwhelming— you couldn’t hear anything but the snap of his hips against yours and both of you chasing your high.

He bites your lower lip, drawing you back to him when he feels you tighten around him. He knows you well— he’d know you’re close, and his eyes burn so brightly in front of you that even though he’s got that cocky smirk on his face you still want to tell him how fucking good he is at this. He presses his forehead to yours, holding you against him as he brings you to the edge with a few more strewing, devastating thrusts and you’re gone— screaming his name so loud you know your neighbours will hear.

“Fr-Frank!” Your body shakes as pleasure overwhelms you, and he watches every fucking second of it. He’s right there with you, the look on your face when you cum for him sending him toppling over with you. He’s so warm and he’s everywhere— arms wrapping around you, mouth sealed to yours swallowing every little whimper and moan, cock buried so deep inside you, you know you’re gonna feel him for days.

The room is suddenly quiet, except for yours and Franks in sync breathing. You tuck your face into his neck and he buries you there, strong arms wrapping around your torso and keeping you as close as possible. When you feel his heart beat start to slow, you look up at him to find he’s already staring at you.

“You got no idea how long I’ve been waitin’ to do that.” He confesses, kissing you again. It’s lazy, indulgent and somehow he still tastes so good. It’s addicting, and you find yourself chasing his mouth until you’re breathless again. When he pulls away, he’s panting, shaking his head. “You keep kissing me like that and you’re in for a long fucking night.”

“Just one night?” You want to look away in case it’s not the answer you want, but he laughs, moving you to the side and tucking you to his chest.

“Fuck no.” He groans as he finally slips out of you. You sigh, content for now, and wriggle back towards him, pressing your ass against his hips. He freezes and his breathing changes, sounding very, very controlled. “Baby. Please don’t mess with me right now.”

“Oh, poor Frank. Stuck in bed with a girl. A naked girl. How’s he gonna make it?” Before you can be proud of yourself for the short silence you are awarded, he’s flipping you over and kissing his way down your chest and stomach. When he disappears between your thighs, you cry out his name, and fuck— you don’t think you’d ever get enough of this.

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #the punisher #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x you #marvel tv #the punisher x reader #the punisher x you #marvel #the punisher x y/n

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rimaiahwrites · 9 months

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Our secret part 2

Dom!Erik x subblack!reader, dom × sub, smut!, swear words, age difference, big brothers best friend, fluffy kinda, dd/Ig themes but it's never addressed as dd/lg

It was y/n 19th birthday and all her friends and family were over to celebrate her day!

She was Beyond excited, everything was falling perfectly into plan.

Her birthday theme were lemons, there was lemons literally everywhere. She had a Lemon cake, yellow tablecloths and of course for drinks there was lemonade, and to top it all off she had on a cute white princess cut dress with yellow lemons over over it! She had retired the two puffs and settled for one big afro with a cute yellow Ruben tied around her head, She had light makeup and her lips were glossed and shiny.

She and her best friends dance and Sang along to the lyrics coming from the speaker loudly. Her mother laughed and quickly grabbed the camera- "smile guys!" She told the girls. Y/n put on a big smile and posed.

After dancing and singing their lungs out she were winded and tired. She huffed out air. It was extremely hot out today "I'll be back guys." She told her friends and walked back into her kitchen. Her bare feet slapping against the cold floors.

She could hear her dad and his friends from in the living room watching the game, the smell of beers and the sound of her dads laugher brought a since of comfort.

She grabbed a glass of lemonade and chucked it down... As she did so her mind began to wonder off to her brother...where was he? He was here earlier but he disappeared out of nowhere. A couple of his friends were supposed to come too maybe they had all went to the neighborhood park to play basketball like usual she thought.

Speaking of his friends she was a little bummed that Erik wasn't in town. He had went off to college two years ago and she haven't seen or heard from him since last summer when he had spent the summer with her family.. she thought about him a lot, maybe a bit to much.

"Y/n!" Her brother called from the kitchen door, shirt off and dripping with sweat. Speak of the devil. She crunched her face and plugged your nose shut. "Gross."

"Shut up, who's outside." He asked. She slightly rolled her eyes. "My friends a few of mom friends and mom, don't go out there until you take a shower you reek." She said and fake gagged yourself.

"Alright alright, Get off me I'm going but their someone outside on the porch that wants to see you." He said as he set the ball down and jogged up stairs to freshen up. She were froze for a second. Is it who she thinks it it? Her heart started thumping hard as she shakily set her glass down and pushed herself to walk to the front door. She opened the door and was face to face with the big 6'0 boy- or man now that she had fallen in love with over two summers of sneaky kisses and touches.

Her cheeks grow hot as she walk through the door and shut it.

He towered over her even more now then before. He still smelled good, and for the most part still looked the same...except he grow facial hair. She was shocked.

"Hi Erik!" She squealed as she jumped to hug him. He caught her and squeeze her back as he chuckled.

"Wassup lil mama, I feel like I haven't seen you in so long! I missed you." He said as he set her back on her feet and kissed her on her cheek, making her stomach flutter. "I missed you too! You left us to go back to that bougie college." She said sarcastically as she rolled her eyes jokily. He chuckled. "I know I know I should've came to visit earlier but I was busy you know how it is-" Erik explain before he was cut off be the girl sitting on the porch swing that y/n had completely missed and didn't notice at all. Y/n frown and turned her big brown eyes back to Erik, he bit his lip nervously.

"Oh yeah my bad, Vanessa this is y/n, y/n this is my girlfriend Vanessa." Erik said smiling at the both of them. Her heart slowly sank as her smile softened to almost a frown before she put on a fake cheerful smile.

His girlfriend?

"Hi..." she shyly said to Vanessa before looking back at Erik with sad eyes.

Vanessa glanced at Erik as well but more confused then anything. Erik chuckled nervously as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Um well it's nice to meet you y/n and happy birthday! Time moves fast I still remember my 19th birthday like it was yesterday!" Vanessa laughed, making Erik laugh as well.

Obviously It was only three years ago more then likely...

"Thanks...Um I'm about to go in...I'll see you guys later." She said as she back away.

"Actually I'm staying the week with your bother!" Her face dropped once again. Not only today but the whole week? Great fucking great.

"Oh well is Vanessa staying here too?" She said playing with the end of her dress. She had to ask cause if so she would try to stay at one of her friends house or maybe even at her grandmas.

"No, her family live here too she's going to stay at her aunts place." She hummed in response before Turning around and going back into the house.

"She's...weird." Vanessa said scrunching her face. "Chill, she's just not used to new people plus nobody told her you were coming to her birthday party." Erik said as bit annoyed with Vanessas comment. She rolled her eyes and sat back down as they wait for her bother to come back down.

As she walked back into the kitchen her eyes were glossy and red. She didn't want to cry she really didn't but the tears were forming and her throat was starting to feel tight.

Her birthday was going good why did he have to ruin it.

After she opened her gifts, ate her cake and cleaned up it was time to go to bed.

Her friends had went home and she tried her best to pretend like Erik and Vanessa wasn't there but Erik just kept on talking to her so it was bad to be mad at him but it hurt so bad to watch him and his girlfriend be so playful with each other and all lovely. She sat on his lap the whole time and it was eating her up inside. She was jealous and weren't very sure if she should be but she couldn't help it.

Erik was her first love.

Y/n parents and brother had all went to bed hours ago, it was now 1:25 in the morning and her stomach ached from being empty.

Y/n got up and put on her slippers, pulled her night gown down over her butt and stepped out of the room, closing her door softly.

She snuck down stairs and made her way to the kitchen. pouring herself some of the lemonade that her mom had made earlier.

"Why you up so late little one?" You heard from the door frame making you jumped spilling your juice down your soft pink gown. Y/n frowned looking down at her gown. "Don't worry about it, you ain't my daddy." She hissed pouring the rest of the lemonade in the sink. Erik's eyebrows raised a slight smirk on his face. "I see you got a mouth on you now huh?" Her face didn't move from the frown. She definitely didn't find anything amusing about this right now.

Y/n rolled her eyes as she made her way towards him to leave the kitchen...but he stayed in place.

"Move."

"I'm just trying to talk to you princess why you being so mean to me? I haven't see you in so long." She cross her arms across her chest. Now was not the time. "Erik move I don't want to talk."

"is it because of Vanessa? You jealous?" He chuckled. He thought this was funny clearly. She was hurt because of him and here he is laughing at her, right in her face.

She tore her eyes from his looking at the other side of the kitchen as the tears came filling her eyes, her bottom lip trembling. "Th-that's funny to you? Erik you hurt my feelings and you think it's funny? What the fuck is wrong with you? You played with my feelings and made it seem like you l-...loved me Erik," she said choking on her words now looking at him.

hot tears streaming down her face now. Erik's face dropped when he saw her tears. "Y/n, princess.." he sighed looking at her through his eyelashes, she hated that she thought he looked so cute right now and the way that the little pet name he gave her a couple years back still made her tummy feel warm and tingly...It all started with a silly game to this...

"baby you know we can't be together, I'm away in my second year of college and you haven't even graduated high school yet, you my best friends little sister I can't date you-"

"But you can fuck me right? Is that all I am to you? Just a fuck doll-"

"No no princess-"

"Stop calling me that!" You whispered yelled at him pocking him in the chest.

"You were just using me because I was naïve! Erik you made it seem like you actually liked me...like you loved me! You told me nothing would change when you went to college but then showed up to my birthday party with a girlfriend I had no idea about!" Her tears still streaming down her face. Erik really had nothing to say, she left him speechless, but what could he even say?

"I guess it is partly my fault also for being so stupid to even think you would like me like that huh?" Erik so badly wanted to tell her how he felt but it would only cause more damage and leave her thinking y'all could be more then what they were, in the end she would only get her hopes up again and end up with her feelings hurt.

He so badly wanted to grab her and Comfort you.

"Good night Erik." She pushed past him and headed back up stairs.

Y/n grabbed her teddy bear off her bed and crawled into her Secret room, shutting the door behind her. She turned on her fairy lights and it lit up the small room just enough. She snuggled into her blankets, and cried. She cried her little heart out.

Who would have known her brothers best friend would be the reason for her broken heart.

Why did he have do this to her on her birthday at that...

The day was soured all because he didn't even consider her feelings nor seem like he cared in the slightest.

He had that girl smiling all in her face like he wasn't fingering fucking her all last summer, sharing sweet kisses and cuddles, like he was sharing deep parts of his past to her. Her heart ached so badly that she had to grab it tightly as she cried into her teddy, this wasn't fair.. this wasn't fair at all she shouldn't be crying right now but she felt so betrayed by someone that showed her how to love, how to make love, how to feel loved..

She sank deeper into her comforter and let out soft gut wrenching sobs.

Her first heart break was her big brothers best friend, how naive of her.

this not the end yall im gonna write a part three ❤️

for some reason I thought I finished this and posted it already. also I'm way more active on tumblr so if you wanna follow I'll love that, I'm going to be writing about a few of my favorite anime characters too so if you fucking with that follow @rimaiahwrites !!

P.s I still have a deep love for writing yall and wanna finish these projects but life been LIFE'N THESE PAST COUPLE YEARS IM SORRY 😭❤️

#black panther killmonger #erik killmonger #erik stevens fanfiction #erik stevens fic #erik x oc #dom x sub #killmonger fic #killmonger x reader #killmonger imagine #killmonger x oc #killmonger #killmonger smut #killmonger fanfiction #king killmonger

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curvykittyyssmutfics · 6 months

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A random au where bucky is a car mechanic who is fixing his single sexy next neighbor, reader's car. She was wearing slightly revealing clothes to want to get banged by bucky. Luckily it work!!!

The Piper: paid

A/N: Soooooooo fucking sorry about the time in between my last post my wonderful people. Doing my absolute best to make lemonade outta the lemons life keeps whippin at the back of my damn head. Anyway, next story will also be a request as I have so many to get done. Probs won't be doing any thing else till I get those done. Anyway.. On to the fic! Enjoy!

"Dammit!"

Bucky's frustrated outburst, along with something metal clattering against his garage floor is audible as I walk up his long, wide, driveway. Listening to him grumble aggressively about "a piece of shit black lil mercedes" makes me chuckle heartily to my self. Expletives about the damage I staged seems to be most common, along with a couple grunts from an unknown task clearly exerting his strength.

The way his breath puffs out entices the introverted slut in me to visualize him underneath me in immense bliss while I ride his dick to my satisfaction, those heavy huffing pants spilling from his lips. Hopefully today's the day I make my dreams come true.

Looking left to right, I notice there's not a soul outside at the moment. That just means step one of my plan is already in action. The dainty diamond rolex on my wrist confirms it's 5pm. Right on time to get fucked and filled with Bucky's nut till it leaks in my panties. Mmmm... Can't wait to rub em all over my pussy later; his milky cream acting as lube while I make myself cum so fuckin hard. I'm lickin my full heart shaped lips in anticipation while plottin on this poor unsuspectin man.

Passing by his new deep blue jaguar, I run a finger along its pristine paint job as I spot Bucky on a creeper underneath my Mercedes. He takes that moment to run a hand through his fresh cut dark locks while wishing it absolute death. It's impossible not to feel a smidge of guilt at the purposeful trouble Bucky's going through at the moment but if everything goes my way, I fully intend to make it up to him by the end of the evening. Shit, hopefully multiple times this evening. It's outta my power not to smile wide at the way my soakin wet pussy flutters at the thought.

Leaning against his ride with palms flat on the hood, I eye fuck my prize thoroughly. Daddy looks so fucking good in his fitted navy blue tee and snug black jeans on his back, his muscled thighs spread wide. The bottom of his shirt lifts a bit to reveal a peek of his firm, incredibly toned tummy as his hips jut upwards. Dark brown boots spread apart wide when he repositions himself, and the fat ass bulge in between his legs grabs my attention real quick.

I'm so fuckin horny just from starin at Bucky, that I gotta squeeze my thighs together for just even a hint of pressure on my pulsating center. My shorts are past drenched where they rest sticky against me. The arousal drippin out plasters my brown thick thighs as my needy little cunt clenches rapidly around nothing. My nipples are so fuckin hard from lightly rubbing against the extremely transparent fit I chose just for him.

"Hey Buck, whats the progress on my baby?" I finally grab his attention as I drum my glossy short jet black nails on the hood of his car.

The wheels on the creeper squeak as he rolls from underneath the source of his current troubles and stands. His eyes focus on the black grime on his hands and he heads to the small sink in the corner of his garage as he responds.

"Woman, I don't know how you manage to damage something on this vehicle every week but it's gotta stop. I'm startin think you just like to come see me."

"Well why not? You're a sight for sore eyes, good lookin."

He dries his hands while laughing at my brazeness and, as always, not taking my corny flirtation serious.

"Boy, you laughin like I won't fuck the daylights outta you right fuckin now."

That flippant response however has him spinnin on his heels to face me. Bucky's vibrant blue eyes grow to orbs and he's rendered speechless as he thoroughly takes in my damn near non existent ensemble. This man is staring at the swell of my perky titties so intently that I know step 2 of my plan is gonna be a piece of cake and I really hope its not my imagination when noticing a twitch from the protrusion in his black jeans.

Dropping the cloth in his hands to the garage floor, he takes long strides till he's standing outside in front of me. His pretty pink lips part and close multiple times as he struggles to speak as he gazes at my nipple covers. Wonder what Daddy's next moves gonna be..

Bucky doesn't say anything at first; but the way he lustfully takes me in gives me goose bumps. His big hands reach around me to grip under my ass and hoist me up against his body. I don't hesitate to wrap my arms and legs around him as he walks us to his parked car, layin me across the warm hood.

"Damn sweetheart, where you plan on goin lookin like this?" Bucky asks, eyes still darting around my body as he presses his clothed hard dick between my legs. The pressure of him against my pussy feels heavy, has my clit thumpin wildly and I'm grindin back without a thought.

"I have a date tonight." I respond breathlessly and that makes his light crystal cerulean eyes snap to mine.

"That right? What're you doin underneath me then, woman? Huh? A little pregame?" He teases, leaning in so close that our lips almost touch.

I shake my head at his questioning as my cheeks heat up from his words. Still, its difficult to feel true embarrasment as his hands glide slowly over my frame, leaving a trail of warmth that makes me press into his palms. Bucky's touch and proximity stuns me a bit, makes my brain fuzzy and pussy clench for him ferally. The small sexy smirk playin at the corner of his lips turns me on just as much as him dry humping me in broad daylight ontop his brand new ride.

"Huh y/n? Is that it? Did you come to me first cause you wanna cum for me first?" He chuckles at me.

Leaning down, his soft lips pecks light kisses from the cheek to my ear. His fingertips skim under my tight bottoms, so dangerously close to my clit as he nips and sucks at my skin. I'm moaning and nodding my assent as I tug him to press against me firmly by the loops of his jeans.

"Fuuuuck.. Lemme feel you then pretty girl."

Bucky's fingers finally dragging across my throbbing button lightly, makin me damn near seize underneath him. I do nothing to mask the loud gasp of his name as the pleasure from just one swipe has me squeezin my eyes shut and grabbin at the top of his jeans in a death grip.

"Damn, my girl is soooo sensitive."

His low groan at my ear makes my soaked pussy flutter quicker and I can feel myself becoming desperate from his teasing touches. The sensation of one hands roaming up my body to gently squeeze over my left tit as the other sweeps across my pussy has me choking on my breaths with a heaving chest. Bucky lifts his head to watch me as he slowly traces circles around my clit, never fully pressing down on it the way I crave.

"Pleeease Buck, pleeeeease." I beg for him to give me more as my incessant yanking on his bottoms pops open the silver button and zipper.

A surprising thanks to the foregoing of underwear is definitely due because I'm then gifted with fattest dick I've ever seen. He's so. Fucking. Perfect. Almost pretty if it werent how girthy his shaft is, the angry flushed head of his dick drooling an abundant stream of precum. I easily notice the weight of him prevents it from slapping upwards; the thick tip of his cock points at my slippery slit. I don't stop pulling at him, humping the tip of his dick while I continue to plead for him to give me what I want most.

"Okay, honey, okay. I'll give you what you want. But lemme take you inside- haaaah, ooooh fuuuuck.."

Our moans mingle togther as one of my harsh tugs forces a few inches of his dick inside my awaiting core. Bucky eyes are wide as saucers as he stares where we connect with an open mouth. His breathing is harsh and loud; strong chest rising and falling rapidly as he quickly grabs my hands from his jeans. I immediately grieve as his touch leaves my tit and clit but my pussy involuntarily clutches at the head of his dick as he pins my wrist to the hood of his car.

"Jesus, woman. Mmmm.. Dammit, aaaaahhh fu- you couldn't wait till I got you inside?"

"Noooo, James. Want you, NEED you noooow. Please Jaaames, pleeease!" I don't notice the volume of my voice rising as I start to lose my fuckin mind.

Bucky's gaze is piercing but frantic, darting from the small puddle forming underneath me on the hood of his car to the way I'm hangin off the end of his dick. But I think it's the way I whine his first name that breaks his resolve. He briefly halts pinnin me down to put my legs over his shoulders. He's then scooping my wrists together in one hand and covering my mouth with the other.

"Fine, pretty girl, don't say I didn't warn your bad ass. Tried to give us some privacy. Now you gonna take this dick no matter what."

The first pump of his cock has him slidin in halfway, the river spilling from me aiding his stroke in. Still, his fat ass shaft splits my delicate walls apart swiftly, the intense pressure has my glossy y/e/c eyes and lined lips opening wide. I squeal loudly gainst his palm, not expecting Bucky to already be sitting in my guts even though he wasn't all the way in yet. WTF..

"Fuuck, sobigBuck, you're HUGE." I whimper, peering up at him with vacant eyes. He leers down at me with a knowing smile.

"Yeah, but my girls gonna have to get used to it huh?" He asks, starting fuck up into my gushy slit.

I don't mean to yank at his hold on my wrists but his next 2 thrust are so fuckin deep. My resistance doesn't free me, though it pulls him off balance and he slides in to the hilt. The tension in my tummy deepens as I feel his cock diggin into my pussy in places no man's ever reached. If it weren't for the hand cupping my mouth, I'm sure the scream I let out would be deafening. Bucky moans out praises as I squeeze my eyes shut tight and try my best to breathe through my nose.

"You're doing so damn-ohshit- weeeeell honey, takin me sooooo good. Mmmmmm.. Chokin the fuckin life out my dick y/n. Not s-sure how long I can last in this hot, tight ass, little pussy, sweetheart. Fuuuuuuck.. Keep being a good girl for me, try to keep quiet okay?"

I can feel Bucky's stare on me even through my close lids, so I nod my compliance. In reality, I pray to god that i dont scream out 'Daddy' for the whole neighborhood to hear while he's dickin me down.

He takes his hands from my wrists and mouth, sliding them down for a quick grab of my plump brown breasts, then to grip at my waist. The pull of his dick slowly slidin out then swiftly plunging back inside has me panting loudly with furrowed brows. I have to cover my own mouth this time, both hands pressed against my lips as he repeats the motion of his hips over and over until he's fucking me in a unhurried but deeply precise rhythm.

"Ohmygod James! Sogood-you'resogood! Don't stop, pleeeease d-don'tstop!" My muffled cries are crazed as he finally stuffs me with dick.

"I won't, honey, won't stop till you cream all over me. Wouldn't dreeeeam of it, baby. Can't stop till you cum on my cock. Fuuuuuck you feel like heaven baby, pussy got me ready to nut an we jus started. Haaah oooh God, sooo good, need you to cum first, y/n."

I'm already covered in perspiration as the breeze races across my nut brown skin and cools me down. Its about the only thing I notice, sounds of the passing cars and chirping birds drowned out by the loud rushing in my ears as Bucky thoroughly fucks the shit outta me. The pleasure swirling in my tummy is so fucking taut, and I know when I cum it's gonna be fucking spectacular.

His unrushed pace begins to speed up, the impact of him pumpin into me rocks his car back and forth as his grunts become more frequent. My knees tremble near his ears from the onslaught, from hearing how good Daddy feels because of me.

He looks just as delicious as he sounds, his body so fuckin tense as I witness how he loses himself in my pussy. Normally his light blue eyes are what stun me, but the dark pupils so damn dilated captivate me into a trance. I stare back helplessly as he gives me the best dick I ever had.

The hands holding my waist clutch snugly, usin his leverage to help fuck me a bit faster. His dick twitches against my walls heavily as Bucky groans out his pleasure, grunts out how he can't take the creamy ring getting thicker around the base of his dick.

"Can I-mmmmohfuckohfuckhoney-can I kiss you sweetheart?"

The sugary sweet question is sudden and takes me aback, is almost funny considering how severely deep he's seated inside of me. I might've even laughed if I wasn't keening from the amazing dick I was currently receiving. Too overwhelmed to answer, I release my mouth and clasp my fingers behind his neck, pulling his face to mine.

Bucky presses a quick kiss to my mouth with soft pink lips. Then another. And one more, the third one deepening with passion. It doesnt matter that he slows the pace of his hips to a crawl again; he continues to grind and dig so deep that his cock curves and hits a firm but gummy spot inside my cunt. It's too damn difficult after that to keep in sync of his lips as he drags his spasming dick across my g spot with too much fuckin accuracy. My sobs against his mouth doesn't stop Bucky's assault on my body. I know what time it is when his hand leaves my waist to press a firm quick circle directly on my clit.

"Mmmmm, pussy f-feels too fuckin 'mazin y/n, sooooclosebaby. I'm gonna buss babygirl, gonna fill that pretty lil kitty to the brim. Need you to cum too, honey. Pleeease." Bucky pleas with me in between messy damp kisses.

I'm way too near my end for full sentences, but from the way I mewl 'James' repeatedly, he seems to get the point. His grinding comes to an abrupt halt before he pulls his dick all the way out and vigorously stabs back in over and over, smashing my g spot and flicking my clit ferociously.

"Bu- haaaah! Aaaahh fuuuu- James! Ohgo- mmmm.. Uhn, uhn, uhn, JAMES!"

My orgasm is almost incomprehensible at first, the pressure in my gut exploding, spiraling outta control and I squirt fiercely against his torso. Warm lips engulf my mouth, sucking and nipping, probably to hush the animalistic noises coming from me as I quiver and shake underneathe him. Its like an avalanche of sensation, so intense I have to grip and claw at his shoulders to ground myself.

"Ahhhh, fuck y/n! Can't take feelin you gush my dick like this. Gonna give this pussy just what she needs honey, fucking cummin sweetheart! Ahhhh shiiiit! Sogood, sogood! Fuuuuuck!" Bucky huffs and puffs his pleasure against my swollen lips.

His fist slams down against his hood, ceasing his rubbing on my pulsating clit as he spurts deep inside my trembling cunt. I can't help but to soak in his grunts of love and praises to me.

Baring his weight on me to keep me in place, he splashes another lava hot jet of cum against the walls of my pussy and it feels too fucking good to feel James Buchanan Barnes fill me up with savagely massive load of cum. I watch him quake as he erupts 2 more explosive sprays inside before pulling out, shooting the last of his cum on my cocoa brown slit.

"You planned this.." Bucky accuses, not wasting any time to catche his breath. His eyes planted where he smears his thick cream allover my pussy as he waits patiently for my response. Daddy doesn't stop till my pussy's covered in his cum. Only then does slip my legs from his shoulders, my snug bottoms back in place and his still very hard dick back into his jeans.

Tired eyes meet my heavy-lidded gaze but I take a few deep breaths to steady myself before I answer. My pussy is already sore but fluttering for more as I bask underneath Bucky's muscular frame.

"I did. Came up with a mastermind plan." I say proudly, my own smirk comin out to tease him.

"Oh really? And how many steps did this 'mastermind plan' have?" He asks with a raised brow, as he zips and buttons his pants

"Just 4." I answer shortly, knees comin up to squeeze at his hips and rub my hands down his abs to the loops of his jeans.

"Which were?"

"Well step 1, purposefully fuck up my car so-"

Bucky cuts me off mid sentence, leaning down so the tip of his nose almost touches mine. His hands grip each of my thighs firmly as quickly yanks me flush against his body and speaks in a low growl.

"I knew it woman! I've been wasting my fuckin time workin on your goddamn car for weeks and- You know what? Talk is cheap; time to pay the piper, honey."

#bucky x reader #black reader #daddy k!nk #black fanfiction #all readers #smut #bucky x female reader #bucky x black!reader #poc reader #creamp!e #public exposure #public fun #dirty talk #dom bucky barnes

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jamesunderwater · 2 months

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Jily Microfic - Opponent

@jilymicrofics - feb 27th, prompt: opponent - words: 911 Summary: Lily might have a heart murmur, might have a crush, it's hard to tell, but she's definitely a feminist, and in case you were wondering, she doesn't care at all if another girl shows interest in James Potter. read the rest in this lil academic rivals to lovers series on my AO3, here! (and stay tuned as this is part 1 of 3 for a little end-of-the-month academic rivals finale ;D) Read Part 2 here & Part 3 here!

Lily Evans is a feminist – she’s obviously a feminist. She’s not about to treat another woman like an opponent just because the girl's got a crush on a boy Lily only mildly, maybe, a little bit – she isn’t even really sure she – likes. Especially not if that boy is James Potter.

(Again, she isn’t sure – it could just be a heart murmur, she’s looking into it.)

So Tamara Campbell told her friend Maritza Acebo who told Mary Macdonald that Tamara thinks James Potter is cute – so what? When Mary asked James what he thinks of Tamara, he only said, “She’s cute, yeah,” and that’s not exactly I’m going to ask her out this instant sort of language. And so what if he does ask her out? The only reason Lily has to care is if some ninny gets James Potter distracted from his studies, leaving Lily without a challenge.

Sorry, not ninny – she’s a feminist. Some girl. Some lovely, “sure, she’s cute” girl, who is probably of at least average intelligence but – it’s only a fact, nothing subjective about it – surely is no intellectual equal to James Potter, and probably only likes him because she thinks he’s some gorgeous quidditch star with sexy hair and a great smile. And, you know, it isn’t Lily’s fault that Tamara’s high-pitched laugh sounds like the laugh of a ninny. Maybe she shouldn’t squeal so loud the entire corridor hears her just because Potter told one stupid joke…

—

“Happy anniversary,” James says, a proud grin on his face. He’s standing in front of Lily’s desk in their office, bouncing on his heels. He’s sure this is an idiotic idea, but since Lily already thinks he’s a fool, James figures there’s no harm in trying his luck. And whether she smiles or just smirks and rolls her eyes, either expression will be better than the perpetual frown she’s worn the last week.

When Lily lifts an eyebrow, he brandishes a plate from behind his back, placing it before her.

“What’s this?” she asks him, her tone flatter than he’d imagined it would be.

“Lemon tart,” James answers, his smile wavering a bit. “It’s your favorite…isn’t it?”

She stares at the plate for what feels like a century, and James can’t make any sense of what’s happening behind her blank expression. Finally, she says, “Yeah, I like it fine,” her voice lifting forcefully.

James wishes he were being buried alive, or burned at a stake, or plummeting from three hundred feet in the air – anything besides standing here in this moment.

“Oh,” he manages through desert-dry lips. Clearing his throat, James attempts a recovery, his entire face on fire. “Well, I just thought – it’s been two whole months of being Head students together…” This explanation is going terribly. Is there a spell for turning the floor to quicksand? Can it be done non-verbally? “And we haven’t killed each other yet, so…” He forces a chuckle. “Thought we might celebrate.”

Lily looks at him then, finally, and the green of her eyes is wrong somehow. Too bright and too dull all at once. “Yeah,” she says, her lips down-turned. “Quite a feat.”

His heart squeezes in fear and warning bells chime loudly in his ears, but he asks anyway, “Are you alright?”

She clears her throat, and suddenly she’s standing and gathering her books into her arms. “I’m fine. Thanks for the dessert.”

She disappears in a blur of red, the lemon tart still on her desk.

—

It’s her own fault, really. She should have just said she liked the damn lemon tart. Why didn’t she tell him she liked the lemon tart? Lily stares across the Gryffindor table, where a few seats down James is watching Tamara Campbell giggle at a decibel only pixies could match.

This is the third day in a row she’s had lunch at their table, her blue tie sticking out amongst the rows of red. There’s absolutely a rule about students of other houses switching tables, Lily’s sure of it – and if there isn’t, there really should be. This is…this is fraternizing with the enemy, if you really think about it, given they’ve got a match against Ravenclaw in two weeks.

Lily grumbles in irritation. Two years ago she’d never have been able to say the quidditch schedule if asked. She’s been utterly compromised. Her Charms essay due tomorrow is only half-written; this morning, her potion was only the third best in class, and she hadn’t even cared about the disapproving look on Slughorn’s face.

Another giggling shriek reaches its crescendo, and she’s simply had enough. Leaving her plate hardly touched, Lily gets up from the table and heads for the door.

“Hey, Evans, hold on a moment–”

She barely muffles a groan at the sound of his voice, quickening her pace as she passes him.

James, with his spider-long legs, is beside her in an instant. “D’you mind trading patrols with me on Friday?” he asks, speaking to her like she’s a child on the verge of a tantrum, as he’s done ever since the lemon tart incident. “I’ve…got a…” He trails off, suddenly looking incredibly sheepish.

“Fine,” Lily cuts him off quickly to avoid hearing his bumbling explanation. Her anatomy’s gone all wrong; her lungs are in her throat, her heart is in her stomach, her brain's disintegrating altogether…

She leaves in a rush, eyes burning, unable to tell who she thinks is more stupid: James Potter, or herself.

To be continued...

#jily microfic #jilymicrofics #jily #jily fic #jily*#james potter #lily evans #jple #hp #my writing

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chiiyuuvv · 4 months

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Can you do xikers reaction to you biting your lips because of anxiety?

• PAIRING — bf!xikers x fem!reader

• GENRE — established relationship, anxiety

• WORD COUNT — 246

• AUTHOR'S NOTE — wanted to say that with all these mental health posts, i dont personally have them, but i do look up coping strategies and incorporate them in my writing. Also decided to combine some of the members so i dont repeat the same things

• TAGLIST — @lil-elle , @hyunukitty , @cake1box , @mars101 , @nenede , @soul-is-a-strange-kid , @the-lemon-boy , @hunchan444 , @s00buwu , @cherrycolaberry , @yuniniverse

MASTERLIST! – JOIN THE TAGLIST!

MINJAE + HUNTER

When they first notice this, they'd give you a quick kiss to snap you out of it, sending you a little teasing look. But once it develops to a habit, they feel concerned, looking up different methods to help you out. A evil grin spreads onto their lips when they read something, making you sit on their lap so they can apply some lip bomb on you.. but its the flavor you hate! So any time youre tempted to bite your lip, youre immediately deterred by the taste

JUNMIN + JINSIK + YECHAN

Their arms are immediately wrapped around your waist, or their holding your hand, giving it a tight squeeze. Steps you away from the crowd to focus on your breathing, reassuring you that everything will be okay, and if you need anything else just let them know

SUMIN + SEEUN

Offers you some gum so if you need anything to bite, you bite that. Also takes your attention away from whatevers triggering you, telling you a random fun fact they learned or a really conversation about.. frogs. Once you stop fidgetting you learn that frogs are actually very interesting animals.

HYUNWOO + JUNGHOON + YUJUN

They sit you down, and practice some mindfulness. Sometimes you dont notice youre biting your lip, so they would pull out a notebook and pen, writing down some things that could trigger it. If they ever catch you, they'd just give your hand a little squeeze.

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chainmailchalamet · 11 months

Text

sugar high 🍒

synopsis: sugar daddy hs, always black n non-binary reader, established dynamic w/ some power play, possessive language, lil degradation, spit kink, mean dom(ish) hs, yktfv

Harry is…complex, by nature. He is a well curated structure of contradictions. He is a rockstar, an animal, a glossy beastly thing on stage. He glows under the spotlight, basking in all that concentrated attention with the air of a man who deserves every last drop. He is a hip roller, a tongue wagger, a dark eyed pretty boy dream. He’s sharp cut hips, tatted all over and wrapped up in glitter.

He is also a cream puff — that’s the version of him you met first, assisting a stylist on a Gucci suiting campaign. You’d steamed his double breasted coat, matched the ties to his green-glass eyes, buttoned him up all snug in his dress-shirt. And he’d blushed and dimpled his way through all of it. Told you that you didn’t have to do all that (“I kind of do, darling, it’s my job”), said please and thank you and stood where he was supposed to stand and made everyone laugh and look at him all fond because he was a professional sweetheart, an actual dream to work with. With the way he acted, you couldn’t tell he found you attractive until after the shoot wrapped and he walked up to you all bashful to ask for your number. It was the way he stated his intentions that got you, the way he said, soft and steady “anything you want, we can do anything you want as long as I can keep you company”.

He took you for squid ink pasta for the first date, because you’d never had it. He showed you how he liked his oysters (“a little lemon, just a squeeze..”) and how to tip them back into your mouth to taste them, and he watched the way your lips wrapped round the shell with a low heat gaze, kept his desire on the simmer like he didn’t want to scare him away. You let your inhibitions sink away into a glass of champagne, flirted with him in the same breath you talked his ear off about your job, about the books you were reading, about your vision for the future. He was so like you — the same raw ambition, the same comfort in the way you wore your skin that you’d both fought tooth and nail for, the same wicked tongue. You liked to make him blush, to tease him until he was giggling in faux offense (“it is not a whore house, it’s a family show, that’s the whole point!” “sir, at last show you sang the words “if you’re getting yourself wet for me”, and then rubbed your fingers together to demonstrate said wetness, those are the actions of a whore!”), until he let some of that babygirl cupcake act drop long enough to thumb some passion fruit sorbet from the corner of your lip and take it into his mouth, closing his eyes and groaning a little under his breath like you just tasted that good.

The second date was a flea market in the south of France. He prepared you with a simple instruction to pack light, and in response to your question about the cost of the train and accommodation and time off work he responded the same — kissed you on the temple and said “I’ll take care of all of it, you don’t have to worry about a thing, you can have anything you want, sweetheart”.

And then he did, took care of every detail — told your boss he was borrowing you for a shoot (“bring them back in one piece, styles, they’re one of our best” “mm, no promises”), got the both of you a private carriage so you could watch the grey London skyline fade away into lush fields of lavender, held your hand all the way, looked at you like you were the best view in sight, whisked you away to a cute little hostel where no one but the owners recognized him (the lady of the house absolutely fawned over him, called him strawberry boy, chided him for being gone for so long).

You used maybe two braincells that weekend — he made sure of that. Every whim, he tended to. If you wanted coffee, he went to the market and fetched you something freshly ground with notes of toffee and dark chocolate. If your stomach rumbled, he sat you down on the kitchen counter and fixed you lemon pasta, fed you dates by hand while the sauce settled, stole kisses in-between bites — cupped your face in his hands and licked into your mouth and said “feel so lucky, can’t believe your here, are you happy, what do you need, whatever you want, wanna give you everything…”.

You let him fuck you during that trip. After a dreamy morning picnicking with a jar of strawberry preserves and fresh bread and heavenly salted butter, and a whole day at the markets where he bought you a whole new wardrobe, gently insisting that he wanted to do this for you. “Harry, this is vintage alaïa, I don’t need that” you’d said. “You’re a stylist, sweetheart, might come in handy — and you’ve been eyeing it up since you saw it, at least try it on, yeah? See how you feel after”.

You’d tried it on, and it fit so perfect your mouth went a little dry — and his eyes on you, the way he smoothed his hands over your hips and told you that “you look so pretty, angel, prettiest fucking thing I ever saw” made you light-headed, running your thighs together in the dressing room. He liked doing that to you, putting you in pretty things, seeing you admire yourself. He bought you the alaïa, the cavalli handbag, a silk Gucci scarf — he was still polite, still your sweet thoughtful boy, but you could see through the cracks to what lay beneath that. The power he held over you, the obvious pleasure he took in being able to take care of you, showering you in nice things, the way he made you feel you didn’t have to think about anything when you were with him because he could do the thinking for you.

That’s the man that took you to bed. The one that told you to put your pretty new things away and wait for him in the bedroom while he tucked the groceries away. The one who met you with hungry eyes when he found you stripped down to your new chocolate brown agent provocateur set and kneeling on the bed and just clicked his tongue and asked you if he told you to do that. Tutted when you looked at him all confused and tried to explain yourself, shushed you and said (with the same quiet intensity as the first day he met you), “not your fault baby, didn’t have to think at all today, you’re just my pretty little doll, huh?”

that’s the Harry that felt every bit of your mouth with his fingers, pressed down on your tongue until you drooled a little and then made fun of you for it. The one that wouldn’t let you touch his dick until he worked you up so good that you thought you would cry, ran his tongue over the lace on your body, teased over every single sensitive inch of you until you were shaking and begging (“please, Harry please, just touch me, anything, anything” “look at you — pretty fucking mess for me, huh? wanna see you cry, baby, can’t give you my dick unless you ask real nice for me”).

He fucked you slow and deep with a hand wrapped around your neck, told you that one day he’d buy you something shiny to lay where his hand had been, but until then you’d just have to wear his fingers around your throat — told you that it was his favorite thing you’d tried on all day, called you his doll, his baby, his perfect little slut. “M’gonna give you everything you fucking want,” he said, licking the salt off your skin as it trailed down your cheek, pulling your head back to spit in your mouth and rub it into your tongue (“filthy thing, you like that? nuh-uh? you got real tight on me, baby, you must really like that”), rolling his hips and driving in hard until your eyes rolled back and you couldn’t even find your voice to beg him for more. “And you’re gonna let me, aren’t you? Not gonna fight me, are you baby? Just gonna let me take care of everything, I know what you need, daddy’s gonna give you fucking everything — that’s it, angel, just shut the fuck up and take it, you’re so good at that”.

He made you come like that, and then flipped you over, lifted your hips up and licked you out from the back, slapped you across the clit if you tried to run away from it, told you to “take it, don’t fucking run, gonna make a big mess aren’t you, show me, fuckin’ show me, that’s so good, you’re so good”, and then fucked you like that — pushed your face into the mattress and laid into you until you did make a mess, till you were drooling with it.

He was back in full sweetheart mode when he was done with you — ran you a bath and toweled you dry and held you in his arms till you fell asleep, kissed your head and said “thank you, baby, did so good for me, gave me everything I’ll ever need”. He was complex like that — a menace, an angel, a demon, a fucking fairytale prince. And you were lucky enough that you got to see every inch of it, bask in the flow of it.

#harry styles blurb #harry styles x black!reader #harry styles smut #domrry #mean dom harry styles #black oc

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remerclunk22 · 1 year

Text

Why didn't i kiss you sooner? | Doug remer

Genre: smut. fem!reader.

Warnings: cussing, praise kink, size kink, tall Doug, even if your tall, hes a mountain dw angels, a lil bit of degrading, smoking weed, beer/ drinking, awkward hand and thigh appreciation, unprotected sex. smut? Idfk

-------

It was never quiet around Remer, he knew how to keep the conversation rolling, especially with the help of a few beers and a joint or two. To his left sat coop, and you sat comfortably to his right, his arm resting on the back of the couch, so close to your shoulder that your hair stood up on the back of your neck. A lit, joint sat in his other hand, smoke freely travelling around the three of you as he handed it to coop and turned to you, his curls landing on his face in a way that made your wind wander. His eyes were slightly red and half-lidded as they stared into yours, he must've said something but you didn't catch a word of it.

"y/n?" he asked, nudging your shoulder with the hand over the couch, letting it rest around you, it felt like his large arm engulfed you, sending a short shiver through you as you responded with a "hm?"

"Tell coop that his psyche out was great, he's all panicky" he consoled and patted your shoulder, thumb brushing over your skin. Moving your vision to Joe, you smiled "It was great coop, pass" You held out your hand and they both laughed a little as coop handed you the joint. "See dude! It was great, stop your bitching" Doug scoffed, his eyes lingering a moment longer than a friend would as you inhaled the smoke. Joe huffed and nodded, checking his watch before springing up.

"I told Jenna i'd meet her for dinner, I'll see you later" He nodded at you both and rushed out. "why is he always late" You asked, puffing out smoke and remer chuckled, shrugging. "Cuz were slackers" he joked and squeezed you closer to him, smiling as you laughed a little. You held out the smoke for him and he shook his head, leaning back against the cushions as you put it out. Sighing, you stood up, removing yourself from his grip and stretching a little.

"Where ya going?" He asked, lifting his head back, almost panicked, but fuck he looked good, splayed out, man spreading, one hand on his thigh and the other where you used to be. "We shouldn't sit around all day, playing Nintendo, we'll end up total losers" You teased and he scoffed.

"We already are losers, babe" He stood up. Babe. He walked over to you, ruffling your hair and looking down at you, a small smirk and his face as his eyes traveled over your expression. He towered over you, you had to look up to make eye contact with him, always feeling like you were giving him fuck me eyes, but he didn't seem to mind. He broke the eye contact as he walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge "Beer?" He asked.

"If your offering" You smiled and followed, hopping onto the kitchen counter, stealing one of the chips that had been originally put out for some football game you didn't even want to care about. He turned around with two beers, popping both their caps off on the side of the counter before handing one to you, his hand brushing against your own.

"Gonna need you to get some more of that weed, that shit was good" He stated, referring to the new strain your dealer had gave you. You nodded, taking a sip of your beer, it was amazing, the buzz still running through your head and your legs. "I know, lemon sorbet, its grown with pollen or something" you laughed a bit and he smiled, standing infront of you as he drank some of his beer. His free hand rested on your knee, it wasn't rare for him to get so close but it was like your feeling were stronger than ever. His hand making your blood rush as you noticed it covered your knee and spread over your thigh, the veins spreading up his arms more prominent because of the beer.

"You obsessed with my hand or something?" He snickered, taking another swig from the bottle as his eyes gazed over you. You looked up to meet his eyes and felt the heat rise to our cheeks as you shrugged and smiled. "No, you've just got..good looking hands?"

"Good looking hands?"

"yeah, women love hands, especially ones like that" You nodded towards his and he furrowed his brows. "Like what?" "like..defined, i dunno?" He then gripped your thigh a little his hand looking more, defined, as you described and you swear you almost pounced on him at the feeling. He must've noticed as he breathed out a small laugh, putting his beer down, his hand snaking up your leg, thumb rubbing over your thigh gently as he looked at you, maybe it was the beer, or the weed, but he looked so fuckable right now. He seemed lost in thought as he stared down at your thighs, squeezing gently at the plush of them. "Men like thighs"

"Alot more pervy than hands"

"Oh yeah, i'd argue the opposite, god knows how often your staring at my hands" He wasn't wrong. "Shut it, remer"

"Nono it's okay, i stare at you alot, thought you had noticed, always wanna grab you, so fucking pretty" He mumbled, still looking down, hand gripping at your thigh, thumb brushing small circles into your thigh. It was out of character, well from what you knew, he had never acted this way to you before but fuck was it hot. His eyes traveled back up to meet yours, he still looked high, but so were you.

"Your so tiny, i feel like i could just pick you up, throw you over my shoulder and-" He cut himself off, picking up his beer and taking a sip, still looking into your eyes with his deep orbs. And? it drove you mad, and really you weren't that little. You stayed silent, speechless even as his hand traveled up to your waist, squeezing and pulling you closer to him with ease, resting on the edge of the counter, as he pushed himself between your thighs, his body flush against yours.

A choked breath escaped you as you looked up at him, inches away. He, once again, put the bottle down, his hand reaching to cup your cheek. "Can i kiss you?" He abruptly asked, and you nodded, because who wouldn't, he had you wrapped around his finger and you prayed to god this wasn't some sick joke.

He leaned down until his lips pressed against your own, his hand snaking to the back of your head as yours reached up to wrap around his neck. He hummed in pleasure as you deepened the kiss, hands falling into his hair, tugging at some of his shorter curls. He groaned a little and the sound sent a rush over you, he pulled you closer, if it was possible and rolled his hips against yours before pulling away fo a breath.

You smiled shyly and looked at him as he chuckled lightly. "Fuck, i've wanted to do that for so long" He huffed and moved both hands to sit on your wait, caressing the skin slightly as you nodded in agreement. "So have I"

"So were both total pussies then" He joked and you scoffed, nudging him. He just smirked and nipped the skin of your waist a little before he looked around. The second he was facing you again, you were kissing him, desperate for more, rolling your hips against his. Both of you letting out, quiet, muffled noises into the open-mouthed kiss as he pushed you back, leaning you over the kitchen counter, his large hands splaying over your ribcage as you bit his bottom lip lightly.

He pulled back and pressed a few short kisses onto your neck, making sure to nip at the skin, a few whines falling out of you aas your legs squeezed his hips, pressing his hips against yours.

"Fuck" He mumbled, his hands smoothing down your body, he looked at you as his fingers curled around your waistband, as if asking for permission. Instantly, you nodded and he tugged them down, kissing at your chest, his hands brushing over your thighs, thumb lightly pressing your heat over the thin material of your underwear. He gasped lightly at how close he was to you, as you whimpered at the feeling of him circling your clit. "Remer..please"

"What baby? You want me to touch you?" He teased, his other hand, rubbing your thigh in a comforting way. Desperately, you nodded and his excitement grew, pushing your underwear out of the way, finger teasing your cunt, head tipping back as you felt his finger push inside of you, curling at just the right spot. "Shit, remer" You breathed out, gripping at his arm as he began to rhythmically curl his finger, fingering in and out of you, deeper than you could've ever got with your own.

"Fuck, you like my finger so much, wonder how you'll act with my cock in you baby" He smirked and you moaned out, nails digging into the skin of his shoulder. His hand soothed your thigh while the other fucked into you with such power you had never felt that you felt your orgasm already building. "good girl, thats it..cum on my finger" He spoke, his voice patronizing and deep. Within seconds, you were coming down from a high, hips moving a little against his hand as you came, moaning his name. "So fucking hot." He murmured.

As you took a moment, you heard him undoing his belt and sat up, looking up at him, this time, purposely using your best fuck me eyes, he groaned as he looked at you. "You look amazing baby, so good all fucked out" And with that you were hopping off the counter and climbing onto your knees, reaching up to help him tug his jeans down.

You loved the way he was treating you, talking to you like you were a specialty. It was clear how much he was enjoying this, by the bulge in his boxers. he shuddered as your hands brushed over it to pull his boxers down. His cock looked desperate, leaking precum. Slowly, you stroked it, looking up at him for approval as he gasped a little, looking back at you. You haphazardly, licked the tip before taking him into your mouth, noting what got a reaction out of him and what didn't.

His hand went to the back of your head as you took him, deepthroating him for a brief moment before sticking to moving back and forth on his cock, making sure to swirl your tongue over his tip, hollowing out your cheeks. Groaning, he pulled at your hair and bucked his hips a little. You held eye contact despite the tears welling up in your eyes at the feeling of him hitting the back of your throat, He seemed nervous to move until you nodded and he began to fuck your face gently, allowing him, you rested your hands on his thighs, occasionally scratching nails over the sensitive skin.

"Fuck, thats it, so good" He moaned, his eyes fluttering shut as he rutted against your face. "Your amazing baby"

Suddenly, he stopped and pulled you back by your hair, taking the chance, you breathed out. "Holy shit, I'll cum if i don't stop, wanna feel your cunt babe" His voice was much raspier than before. You nodded and carefully stood up, smiling at him as he pressed a short kiss to your lips. You bent over the kitchen counter and he breathily moaned at the sight "So good for me" He mumbled, moving behind you. You felt his presence behind you, his hand resting on your hip as the other guided himself into you, teasing at your hole again, making you whine out. "Doug..please"

"Fuck..only cuz you asked so nicely baby" He joked and slowly pushed himself into you, he stretched you out a little and you found yourself gripping at the edge off the counter. Moaning at the feeling of him fully inside you, you could hear the low noises from him and they only turned you on more. He began to pull out before almost slamming back into you again, your body moving against the counter, him being stronger than he looks. He began to fuck into you, his cock repeatedly hitting your g spot, sending signals throughout your body, you could smell his cologne and feel his hands gripping at your skin as you hit the counter, knowing you'd have some proud bruises later. "Feels s'good remer" you whined out.

"Your squeezing me so well princess, so fucking tight" His thrusts grew more sporadic and his hands squeezed tighter at the plush of your waist as you felt a tightness in your core.

"doug, im s'close"

"Me too, baby, me too" He panted, if you could see him, you'd see his hair falling over his face like earlier, an insanely dirty sight. He let out a few higher moans as he came inside of you, coating your insides in his cum. His hand reached forward to rub at your clit, head leaning on your back as you released all over his cock. Both of your bodies were worn out, you limp on the counter and him on you.

"Why didn't i just kiss you sooner?" He asked, breath heavy and you laughed a little.

"I'm asking the same thing"

----

I apologize for typos my keyboards acting so funky rn, but either way, i finally made a new acc to write this. Hope it isn't to short my loves.

#doug remer #matt stone #doug remer x reader #doug remer smut #matt stone smut #baseketball #baseketball smut #matt stone x reader

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