#40's au kink

[bucknastysbabe]

God Bless the Inventor - 40’s AU series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3,268

Synopsis: Howard comes up with a…new invention for his adventurous pals to try. Bucky’s devious wife has plans. Bucky is questioning his life choices.

Tags: 3k of femdom filth, anal play, fancy vibrators were invented by Howard I know, Subby baby buck, chubby bunny buck, man tears, oral (f!receiving), humiliation kink, weight gain TW if that’s not your thing, men in panties, overstim, SSR GANG, Peggy should’ve been gay and not a dumbass plot choice I loved agent Carter and stand by that, We Stan Dum Dum Dugan, Bucky and him wife are very much in love and supremely horny, praise kink, slight sub space

A/N: I wanted a thicker man in lingerie smh

Howard sat on the other side of his Art Deco living room, newly furnished from what you could tell. Bucky was next to you, a question furrowing his brow. His flesh arm was around your shoulders, the cutie would get touchy around Stark’s flirty demeanor. Regardless if they were best of pals.

You smiled and asked, “So what’s this new invention you want to pitch to us of all people?”

Howard’s dark eyes gleamed with mischief. He grinned and sat forward, extending his hands. The genius elaborated, “Well- it’s a bit of a strange idea, brought to my attention after seeing a housewife in dire need of,” he winked, “companionship.”

Bucky barked, “What the hell Stark? You comin’ onto us or something?”

You shushed him and gestured for Howard to continue his pitch. He laughed airily, pulling out some sort of sleek oblong thing— faintly in the shape of a prick with a ring on the end. Your eyes widened when it dawned, you gasped, “Howard! You made one of those sex toys?” Bucky rolled his eyes with a groan, thoroughly displeased.

Howard wagged his finger, “Nuh-uh-uh! It’s a ‘massager’! Good for working out sore muscles.”

You and Bucky shared a dubious look, then turned back to Stark. He slapped his knee and guffawed, “Yes of course it’s a vibrator! But the magic here is that it’s battery powered and,” he winked, “remote controlled for the partner!”

Bucky snorted, “What about the damn flying car Stark? Been waiting on that one since 42’.”

“It’s still under work!,” the man snapped.

You interrupted, “What then? You want us to try it out for you? Why can’t you do it on one of your two million dames?”

Howard slyly smirked, responding, “If the inventor says it’s good then what proof is that really? Just take it home, lube it up, come back to me so I can sell the patent. Stark Industries wouldn’t look good selling hysteria machines.”

Bucky sucked his teeth. He mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, ‘can’t get a goddamn break with these SSR loons.’ You were already hooked by Howard’s pitch and toy. Poor Buck was going for the ride of his life sooner than later. You held out your hand and hummed, “I’ll bite, be back in a week. Hopefully I can leave you a glowing review, Howard.”

The excitable man jumped up and cheered, “Fantastic! You two will love it!” You grinned and let Howard peck your cheeks to Bucky’s consternation. Calling over your shoulder you joked, “Make sure Peg and her ‘roomie’ get a pair too huh Stark?” All three of you burst in to giggles after that, Bucky leading you out with a big hand on your waist.

Once strapped into the car Bucky had a strange look on his face. You purred, “Scared baby? This thing is preeeetty hefty.” He grumbled and turned the key into the ignition, ignoring your comment. You squeezed the plush layer over his strong thigh and said, “Poor Howie doesn’t know the trap he put you in Bucky-bear.”

“Tell me about it, sweets,” the brunette huffed.

Couple o’ days later

Bucky was sweating through his blazer, even in the chilly temperatures. You could see the perspiration beading on his upper lip, collecting on his temples. The man couldn’t stop shifting, tapping, grinding his teeth. Conversations went around the SSR members and their plus one’s, usually other significant others. Peggy had brought that sweet but brutally New Yorker ‘friend’ of hers, Angie.

Ray and Johnson kept away with nervous looks after the debacle at the last get together. You fondly remembered fucking Bucky into sweet submission that night. There would probably be a rehash soon if your poor husband didn’t cum all in his slacks. Which he probably would anyways, but that was okay.

Bucky was currently shoving his face with food to stop the nonsensical little noises he couldn’t hold back, passing them off as enjoying the meal. You smirked at the thought of the vibrating toy in his ass. Howard and oh goody, Dugan was in town! They ambled over greeting folks. Bucky’s eyes opened wide in fear. You knew that he knew Dugan was going to zero in on his bootcamp to field buddy.

“Barnes!,” Dugan boomed. Bucky dropped his food to sheepishly smile and get up on shaking legs. The mustachioed soldier pulled your husband into a hug, slapping his back heartily. Buck made a choking noise, rasping back a hello. Dum Dum manhandled Bucky backward to get a good look.

He patted Buck’s side and peered over a wide shoulder to joke, “Hello Missus Barnes! A sight for sore eyes! What’cha been feeding Sarge here? Lookin’ like pre-bootcamp dough boy Barnes!”

You could almost feel the mortification radiating off of your other half. Bucky’s face was a deep flush, him turning to look at you pathetically.

Down the vibrator went to zero in your pocketbook. Poor bear.

Dum Dum smiled happily, hugging the brunette again, whispering, “I’m so happy you’re okay man. Blessed, really.” Bucky gave a less strained smile at that, relaxing into the big man’s arms. “Missed ya’ too Dugan, lots.” Howard cooed, “How adorable! Let’s get the whole team together over in Europe.”

“I like New York thank you very much,” Buck deadpanned to a raucous of laughter. You sidled up to your husband, beaming. Dum Dum teased, “As long as she gets to go, gotta have some guts to keep Barnes tied down.”

Your lips quirked up, a hand sliding to palm Bucky’s ass while you purred, “I’ve got some steel under my frilly apron.” Bucky flushed and looked down, lamely replying, “She does, she does.”

The party went on a bit longer, people getting rowdy. You let Bucky get some much needed catching up with Dum Dum. His cheeky smile made your heart skip. Later on, Chief Dooley had to disperse the drunken men and Peg howling war songs. You laughed and clapped along with Angie, sharing a warm look.

Bucky was sweaty and disheveled by the time he was launched out of the circle into your arms. You caught his bulk, laughing and batting at your husband as he peppered you with wet kisses. He laughed, “C’mon you don’t want some lovin baby?” You scrunched your nose and giggled, “I always want your lovin sweetie, let’s get home Hm? Then we can take Stark’s toy for a real test drive.”

Bucky’s pupils blew at the implication, body going woozy in your arms. You eyed his needy expression, pushing back some fallen strands of dark hair. Nipping at his earlobe you hummed, “That was only level one baby, and you couldn’t sit straight.“ Bucky’s breath left him in a punched out groan, slumping into your smaller frame.

You gave his ass a tight slap and hollered, “I got the wheels this time Sarge!”

Making the rounds of goodbyes, Bucky was definitely rushing to get back home. Stark had a knowing gleam in his eye, giving you a wink behind your husbands back. Hugging the genius you thanked him.

Bucky, resigned and so, so horny followed behind like the pet pup he was. You deviously cranked the remote up another level, eyeing Bucky for the inevitable reaction. He yelped, legs spreading, arms flailing. You could hear the crunch of his metal hand on the door. Bear could hardly climb into the little two-door, so wracked with pleasure.

You cooed, “How’sit feel bear?”

Bucky’s cute nose was scrunched up as he whined out, “S’fulll m-my god, s’fuckin me up baby.” He was now rutting back against the car seat, whimpering needily. Bucky moaned, “So good, so good, fffuck!” You pulled the car forward, grinning helplessly. Oh how you loved your submissive little big boy. Bucky mewled and made to palm at his swollen cock, probably painfully smushed in those tight slacks of his.

He was too prideful to admit it, but you’d ordered some more clothes so Bucky would stop looking like he was shoved into his work suit. Stubborn bastard. You slapped his hand away and tutted, “We have to test out Howard’s device correctly dear.” You patted his plump cheek and added softly, “Can’t have your slutty dick get in the way can we now hm?”

Bucky’s tears were getting worked up but he dropped his dark head and whinged, “Yes ma’am.”

“Good boy,” you crooned. Bucky shivered and seemed to relax at the praise. Bear loved his praise and coddling almost as much as he liked the humiliation. You’d get to that later.

Bucky was going mindless, humping and sucking on his bottom lip as he bounced in the seat. To be a bitch you taunted, “Had alot to eat tonight, don’t wanna bust your nice slacks dear.” He thinly whined and blushed, curling in but didn’t stop the movement.

Pulling into the garage Bucky ungainly hopped out and staggered over to you, opening the car door. You simpered, “Sweet boy, thank you, earning a lot of treats tonight.” He blubbered, “Really?” Thumbing his swollen slobbery lips you nodded, pecking them one time.

Bucky led the way, albeit slowly due to the vibrations dragging across his ass and the heavy weight of the plug on top of the prostate. You came from behind, like a jungle predator. From the gloom of the hallway you crooned, “Special drawer’s calling your name, bear!”

Bucky moaned frustratedly. You didn’t like that insolent tone, cranking it up to the highest power. There was a clank of his arm and throaty wail emanating from the darkened bedroom. You sped up to the scene, and my- what a scene you saw. Bucky was on his knees, blazer discarded and his fingers digging into the chest. You knew that was to keep him from touching his cock.

Bucky sniveled, “S’too much, baby baby, ah fuck baby! Can’t stop l-leaking mmmgh!” You moaned softly, clambering behind your shivery husband. Slowly you discarded his clothes, baring that adorable fluffy flesh to your eyes.

“Pretty baby,” you sighed.

You could hear the vibrator assaulting Bucky’s ass, pounding his poor sensitive prostate. Your sarge whimpered and mewled, definitely getting overwhelmed. You shushed him, pressing sweet kisses and praises to relax Buck. Your nimble fingers undid his belt and unbuttoned the pants. You bit your lip bloody at Buck’s fat cock swollen and leaking all over his slacks and panties.

“Oh my, s’it milking you out sweet boy. You feelin’ sweet baby?”

You sucked in a breath, your pussy causing a slippery mess in your panties. You adjusted the sticky fabric with a strained whimper. God your husband was a work of art.

He nodded jerkily, leaning back onto your slim shoulder. Your hand caressed his damp chest and cheeks, pressing a kiss to his temple. In slow terms you asked, “Buck, you got me?” Bucky was approaching fast if not already in that foggy space. He nodded slowly, blue eyes wearily opening.

You flipped his bigger frame around to back against the drawers. Bucky was so pliant it was like moving a rag doll, albeit a heavy one. He mewled upon seeing your face, “W-wan you so bad baby.” His cock spurt out more pre. Instinctively you slid your fingertip across the milky bead and sucked on it, Bucky crying your name.

Undressing the baby was an easy affair. Surveying his flushed skin, you figured a pink set would compliment the blush, pale stretch marks, his lips, and pretty pink nipples. Shaking yourself out of the horny catalogue you moved to open the drawer, snatching around until you found the lacy baby pink set. Bucky sighed and watched with hazy eyes.

You held it up to the befogged Bucky, watching his lax body begin to tremble in excitement. You teased, “Yeah pup, you’ll look like a dream.” One leg went in a hole at a time, Buck weakly lifting up his hips to slide the thin panties on. He cried out at the fabric caressing his full balls.

Next came the garter, Bucky’s least favorite part. You relished in it, watching the softness of his belly tighten and struggle to fit under the unforgiving straps. You snapped the waistband across his belly, Bucky whining and shaking his head. Palming his tummy you questioned, “Did you get get hard when Dugan mentioned you’d packed it on?”

Bucky’s red cheeks grew wet with tears as he sniveled, “N-no! God no, I w-was so embarrassed!” You surveyed his twitchy blues while you slid up the stockings and clipped them to the ill fitting garter. He kept looking down and away as if he was going to escape. You knew what that meant. Liar.

“Uh-huh baby, just say you like being my greedy plump housewife and I think you’d feel better.”

Click click.

The buzzing grew louder.

Bucky’s legs snapped open as he howled in ecstasy, hands pulling and ripping at anything in grasp. He sobbed, “S’not tr-true! M’gonna go train with Johnson.” He shivered and mewled again at the sensation of the vibrator. You cocked your head in amusement, crawling to sit between his thick thighs.

“I know you will baby,” you teased.

You upped the vibrator to the final setting, watching Bucky seize and wail helplessly. Your own pussy tightened more and leaked at the sight of the brunette’s panties growing a darkened stain. Your belly was awash with heat, could you actually cum from watching this? Poor Buck was huffing and squirming, unable to do anything but take it. You nibbled at his chest cooing, “S’that feel good? Color baby?”

“Green mmmm- oh god yes,” he yelled.

You didn’t want to give that unspeakable German bastard any credit but whatever he dosed Buck up with in Azzano did make your husband eager to cum as much as possible. Rolling with the punches, one would say. You cleared the thought by rambling dirty nonsense.

Detaching your mouth from a puffy nipple you cooed, “What’s gotten into ya’ baby? Being so good for me. Such a good little slut, lovin’ Howard’s fun toy up your whore ass like that.”

Your husband was too busy drooling and agreeing in sloppy disjointed ‘yesses’. He was far gone, maybe had one em’ before the overstimulation took over. You crowded closer into his bulky frame, breath fanning over heaving lips. Bucky mewled and chased your lips, hands twitching at his sides, obedient as ever.

You indulged the needy slut and grabbed a full cheek of his while taking his mouth. Bucky cried out, “Oh! Mmph!” You licked into his open mouth, twirling your tongue with Buck’s while swollen wet lips caressed your own. Your husband shuddered and shoved himself closer, rubbing his tits against your silky negligee.

You smoothed your hands down the brunettes plush sides, purring, “I know you’re feeling s’good baby, you loving all this? I mean lookit’chu, you’re a mess baby.” Bucky made an indignant noise, squirming underneath you. He managed to pant, “Luh’ it. M’so horny.”

Sweet Jesus you’d lucked out. Bucky was the perfect whore, all for you. His watery blue eyes, achingly wide- watched yours. Cheeks red, trembly lips, sweet belly twitching. The cherry on top was his cock just pouring rivers of cum. You palmed his bulge, gasping at how soaked it was.

In a frenzy you unclipped the garter, Bucky gasping in shock. He made an inelegant, “whuh?” Flipping the garter up, your shaking hands yanked down the ruined panties. Mouth running overtime you rambled, “Baby is wet, so wet, gonna give me one big one Hm? Gonna cum all over your wife like a good slut?”

Bucky nodded frantically, eyes scrunching shut. He cried, “Wet for y-you- ah! Touch my balls, pluh-please they’re so heavy for you! Hngh!” You nodded, biting your lip in ecstasy, the buzzing of the toy echoing on and on. You palmed and held onto the swollen sac.

“Jesus fuck baby!,” you swore.

He was all hot hot hot and swollen. That wouldn’t do. You squeezed and rolled them, thumbing down the seam. Spurts of cum hit your belly, Bucky throwing his head back with a wail of your name. The Sargeant babbled, “Thankyouthankyouthankyou G’nna cum so hard for you ma’am!” He sucked in a wet sob and violently trembled.

“Yeah babydoll, I know you’re full up, c’mon Buck, be my good houseslut and paint my fancy clothes, ruin me, pretty baby,” you rambled breathlessly.

Bucky’s balls tightened and drew up under your palm, cock shooting load after load onto your negligee. You cooed and praised him through it, your own orgasm coming out of nowhere. You gripped at the soft flesh on his belly, panting through your nose. Simple excitement from the show that was your husband. Fat tears and hefty sobs tore Buck’s throat as he emptied.

You scrambled to turn off the vibrator, Bucky’s crying already growing frantic. You eased it out of him and tossed the device across the wooden floor. Bucky cried and mumbled nonsense, itching to touch you. You purred, “S’good, c’mon and touch me Buckybear. Good damn boy.” The supersoldier wrapped up tight around you, strong fingertips embedded into your flesh.

Teary eyes searched yours as he begged, “Baby, sweets, oh, lemme’ eat you out please! Want you on my face!”

You grinned, a complete mess, and nodded. You rasped, “Yeah, yeah, that’s a good boy, you deserved it.” You leaned back, bracing your elbows and spreading your legs for your needy husband. Bucky moaned, clambering onto his belly, big hands swallowing your thighs. He croaked, “Smell so good, my angel baby!”

“Have a taste Buckybear, sweet Jamie.”

Bucky lapped eagerly at your soppy pussy, eyes rolling at up the taste. He ate and sucked like his life depending on it, thick hips and thighs flexing against the hard floor. You threaded trembling fingers through his brunette locks, tossing your head back with a wanton cry. You blabbered, “S’good, keep it up baby.” Bucky shoved his tongue into your cunt, slurping and whining rudely.

So soon after your surprise orgasm, this was intense. All you could do was moan and whine your husbands name, riding his pretty fucking face. Bucky’s hands squeezed your thighs roughly, spreading you even wider. You cried, “Fuck sweetie! Yeah yeah that’s it!” He rutted harder, whining into your swollen pussy.

He suckled on your clit, interchanging with flicks of his tongue. Baby knew you like the back of his hand. Bucky looked up, adoration in his glossy eyes, slurring, “Love ya’ baby, pretty mama please please!” He slid a thick finger inside you, crooking the digit in quick motions. Your body arched and shivered, pussy convulsing and pushing out more and more slick.

Bucky gasped into your cunt, wordlessly wailing.

He’d cum— again. You curled around your husband, legs caging in his dark hair. Pleasure and overspent nerves overtook your flesh, making reality fizz away for God know’s how long.

You came to, cuddled with your baby in a heap on the floor, Bucky laying reverent kisses on your jaw. You gripped his soft cheek and pulled the sweetest man alive to your lips, moaning a raspy, “Love you.”

Later that night

“Yeah, so, Howard- I will give a glowing review.”

Howard’s brash laugh echoed on the other end of the line. He purred, “I take it Barnes enjoyed the treat?” You grinned and looked over to your husband, diligently rearranging and cleaning his gun. You giggled, “Oh very much so Stark.” Bucky barked from across the room, “What does he want?”

You laughed, “Sorry gotta go Howie, talk to you later, you scoundrel!”

Suspicious blue eyes stared at you, making you fall into a fit of giggles. Poor baby bear.

[rip-quizilla]

1405 Peach Tree Lane

Pairing: Older!Neighbor!Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You like to watch your older, tatted shirtless neighbor now his lawn. He likes to watch you laying by your parents’ pool in those swimsuits that make his mouth water. Eventually, the inevitable happens when he invites you across the street for a drink.

Word Count: 8.2K

Tags: 🔥SMUT, modern au, age gap (Eddie 40s, Reader 20s), daddy kink, praise kink, degradation kink, slight breeding kink, spitting, light dom/sub, unprotected sex (reader has an iud), oral sex, p in v sex, shower sex, masturbation in a hot tub

(A/N: This is some of the filthiest shit I think I've ever written. You're welcome. Also I was very quick with the proofread, so if you see any spelling or grammar mistakes, no you don't.)

💜💜💜

Everyone in the posh gated community of Forest Hills knew about 1405 Peach Tree Lane.

The house was beautiful, as were all the houses in the upper-crust neighborhood- but the house wasn’t what people paid attention to.

Every housewife in the neighborhood knew that if they were lucky and timed their morning jog just right, they’d catch a glimpse of the toned, inked-up adonis who lived there while he shirtlessly mowed his lush green lawn. 

You might not have done much speaking with the housewives in your parents’ neighborhood, but you knew about 1405 Peach Tree Lane- you had a perfect view of its front lawn from your lounge chair by the pool in your parents’ backyard. Luckily for you, all that separated your backyard from 1405 was a short wrought iron fence and a narrow stretch of road.

You didn’t mind living with your parents during the summers you spent home from college; they gave you plenty of freedom and while they were at work during the day, you got to spend the afternoon lounging by the pool, reading a book and soaking up the sun.  

As well as soaking up the view of the way that same sunlight glinted off Mr. 1405’s sweaty, ink-riddled skin. 

You didn’t speak to him- what would you even say? “Hi, it’s nice to meet you, my favorite part of the day is guessing what your tattoos mean.”? Or maybe, “Hey there neighbor, mind if I count the freckles on your shoulders? It’s for science.”

Eventually, the inevitable happened- he caught you staring. 

He didn’t make it awkward, though. In fact, from the way he simply smiled and waved at you, you wondered if he thought your eyes meeting him had just been a coincidence, and you hadn’t been ogling him for the past thirty minutes and some change. You’d smiled back, thankful for your huge sunglasses that hid the way your eyes had widened under his attention, and waved in return. 

An even bigger surprise had been that he spoke to you this time. 

“That book any good?” 

His voice, heavy with labored breathing under the exhaustion from finishing up his lawn work, had caught you completely off guard. You’d laughed nervously, sticking your bookmark between the pages and pushing yourself up from your face-down position on the flattened lounge chair. 

“Oh! Ah-ha, uhm, yeah!” you shifted your weight back until you were sitting on spread knees and looking up at the source of the voice. On the other side of your parents’ fence stood Mr. 1405 Peach Tree Lane, sweaty and slightly sunburned on the tops of his shoulders. His curly brown hair had been piled into a messy knot atop his head, and you took note of the details that you hadn’t noticed from far away- a smattering of silver studs that decorated his ears, along with one on his nose. Five o’clock shadow that dusted his jawline. A more detailed view of his tattoos, some of which looked older than others but all of which looked very, very sexy on this man who had so much sex appeal already. 

The crinkling of his plastic water bottle as he squeezed about half of it into his mouth filled the silence between you. After a loud gulp he piped up again.

“What’s it about?”

Your brow wrinkled confusedly before you remembered that he had just asked you about your book. “Oh!” you replied dumbly, looking down at the book as if you had completely forgotten that books even existed- looking at him had taken up your entire mental capacity, apparently. “It’s, uh, it’s a memoir! It’s this cool old lady’s life story, she does not hold back, so the narration is pretty hilarious a lot of the time.”

The inked-up Greek god smiled and nodded, eyebrows raising in interest. “That does sound good.” he mused, and his voice took on a slyer tone when he added, “What’s your definition of old, like thirty-five?” He chuckled as if he’d just told a funny joke, but your smile had all but fallen from your face. 

“That’s not old,” you replied, not taking the joke, “This author was in her late seventies when she published this book, but even with that being said, this book is just told through such a youthful spirit- it’s easy to forget how old the author is when looking at her words.” You gripped the paperback a little tighter in your sweaty hands. “Plus, old people definitely don’t have the energy to mow their own lawns, and I have a feeling you’re not thirty-five.” 

That seemed to catch him off-guard. A surprised laugh escaped him, exploding from his lips before they formed an intrigued grin and his arms crossed over his tattooed chest. 

“Oh yeah? How old do I look, then?”

You grinned back, making a show of removing your sunglasses so that you could peer at him with greater focus. “Hmmmmmm…thirty-six?” 

Another laugh, this one heartier than the last. “You flatter me, sweetheart.” 

God, his voice is like brown sugar.

You tried again. “Forty, then.”

“Older.”

“No way.”

His grin became a smirk. “Are you patronizing me right now?”

You threw up a girl scout salute. “Scout’s honor, I would never.” 

He chuckled. “Well, girl scout, I’ll be forty-five next month.”

“I’ll be sure to warn my parents about the rager you’ll be throwing.”

He peered up at your house behind you, like he just now noticed its- and your parents’- existence. “Nah,” he said, “No ragers for me, that ship sailed when I was your age.”

You smiled sweetly, placing your sunglasses atop your head. “At least let me bake you a cake, then, wouldn’t be neighborly to let you have a boring birthday.”

“You’d bake a cake for ‘lil old me, sweetheart?” His tattooed hand splayed over his heart, sweaty and shining in the blaring afternoon sun.

You giggled. You could get used to Mr. 1405 calling you ‘sweetheart’. 

“Sure thing, just tell me what name to write in between ‘happy birthday’ and ‘forever young’.”

A flash of dazzling white teeth replied, “Eddie. Eddie Munson.” 

That was when you rose a step above the housewives of Forest Hills- to them, he was still Mr. 1405, but to you? He was Eddie Munson.

You entertained yourselves with little conversations here and there whenever Eddie worked out on his lawn. You, always in a swimsuit and him, never wearing a shirt. You would ask him about his tattoos- what they symbolized, which ones he’d drawn himself before they were replicated on his flesh. He would ask you about what you were reading- it was always changing. Sometimes nonfiction, sometimes romance, fantasy, lit fic… he seemed impressed by your insatiable reading habits. 

One day, however, he’d been particularly interested in a book whose cover bore a bare-chested  gentleman and particularly busty woman in a corset. 

“What’s today’s read, girl scout?” Eddie had greeted you with a nod toward the obviously risque reading material and a knowing smirk as he let his arms dangle over the black bars of your fence. 

You looked up, glowing from the sweat that’s gathered on your dewy summer skin and smiled tightly. “Oh, just a period romance. Ball gowns, forbidden love, the scandalous touching of hands without gloves on- things like that.”

“From the looks of that cover, I don’t think their hands are the only naked body parts touching in that story.” 

You laughed, glancing at the cover as Eddie waggled his eyebrows. “You’re probably right, but who knows? I’m only on the second chapter. I’ll keep you posted though.” you punctuated that last part with a wink. 

“Oh please do, princess,” Eddie said with a wolfish grin. “I love a good smutty romance novel.” 

You gawked. “No way you read this shit, you’re bluffing.”

Eddie raised a hand as if swearing on a bible. “Scout’s honor.” he said, mimicking your swear from the day you’d met. 

You shook your head, smiling ear to ear. “You must be the first man I’ve met who openly admits to reading smut, and I respect that.”

Eddie shrugged. “Easiest way to know what women want- they’re literally writing me an instruction manual. It’d be stupid not to read them.”

You bit your bottom lip before you could stop yourself, making a mental note of that little tidbit of information. “And you enjoy them?”

“It’s porn, sweetheart,” he said, gazing at you incredulously. “Who wouldn’t enjoy it?”

“It’s porn with a plot.”

“I’m a sucker for a good plot, especially if the plot involves sucking.”

You barked out a laugh. “And one could also argue that it’s more emotional porn than physical.”

“Are you insinuating that I don’t have a heart? Because I’ve got one, princess, and it bleeds, it yearns-”

Eddie pantomimed grasping at his own heart in his chest, putting on a fucking one-man show as he hung onto the fence for dear life as if his heart were truly bleeding out. You laughed- that was something that seemed to happen more when Eddie was around- you laughed more than usual, so much that you found your cheeks aching whenever he walked away. 

This time, something else ached as you watched him return to his lawn. As you continued to read, you were acutely aware of the heat between your thighs, the wetness that accumulated as you pictured corseted girls and muscled viscounts making eyes at each other across a sea of dancing courtiers. You imagined yourself, cornered in a rich rose garden bathed in moonlight, struggling to stifle your moans as a man in a tailcoat left a mark on your neck. You felt his hand hiking up your layers of petticoats until it reached your thigh, the only thing separating skin from skin being the white fabric of his gloves. You pictured his eyes, brown and bottomless as he moaned at the feeling of your hands tangled and tugging on his soft brown curls-

Uh oh. 

You took a deep breath, bookmarked your page, and slipped into the cold water of the pool. You sincerely hoped that Eddie hadn’t been serious about an update on the smut in your novel; you didn’t exactly want to let slip that at some point, you’d stopped picturing the viscount and started picturing him. 

But would he mind? Would he be upset to know that you’d pictured his hands on you, his lips on your pulse, your fingers in his hair? 

You weren’t sure he would. 

In fact, you had a feeling he might actually picture you in situations that weren’t too different. After all, you weren’t blind- you’d noticed the way his eyes would flit down from your face when the two of you were talking. He didn’t seem to put much effort into hiding his once-overs, his raking gaze that seemed more than pleased by the way your swimsuits hugged your curves, pulled your cleavage together, cut higher on your hip than your shorts ever would. Whenever you pulled yourself up from lying on your stomach, you’d seen how his eyes followed your ass hungrily as it left his line of sight. 

That was the moment that you realized- Eddie Munson, more than likely, wanted to fuck you. 

And you definitely wanted to fuck him. 

So the next time he came over to see you after mowing his lawn, you offered him a beer. 

“I’m already halfway through mine,” you said, leaning back to give him a full view of the way the sweat on your breasts shone in the hot sun. “don’t make me day drink alone.”

A salacious grin curled on his plush pink lips. “I could be tempted,” Eddie peered at the cooler beside you. “What are you drinking, sweetheart?”

You opened the cooler so that he could see the six pack of light lagers in shiny green bottles. Eddie wrinkled his nose distastefully. “Alright, young padawan,” he sighed, unlatching the gate to your backyard. “It’s time you learned your first lesson from Master Munson.” He didn’t enter the backyard, simply opened the gate and waited for you to join him outside your parents’ property. 

You quirked an eyebrow; this was new territory. That wrought iron fence had always served as a sort of barrier between the two of you, never occupying the same space and keeping each other at arm’s length- flirty banter, but with boundaries. 

Now, you smiled shrewdly as you slipped on your flip flops and crossed the threshold into Eddie’s space, following him across the narrow street to his driveway.

“Oh so I’m your student now, Master?” you quipped, launching him into a dark chuckle and a shake of his curls. 

“Christ,” he cursed under his breath low enough that he probably thought you hadn’t heard- but you did. “Well, your college friends are obviously shitty teachers if your drink of choice is a basic ass bottle you can grab at the goddamn gas station.” 

You scoffed, “Oh, what- are you trying to say you’re one of those pretentious beer snobs who only drinks micro-brewed IPA’s named after bad puns?”

Eddie laughed out loud, smiling ear to ear at you over his shoulder. “Oh that’s exactly what I am, princess!” The harsh sunlight finally relented as the two of you crossed into Eddie’s garage, and you followed him in a beeline to the old refrigerator in the corner opposite from his impressive-looking toolbench. 

You nearly moaned with relief when the cool air from the fridge hit you as Eddie opened the door and grabbed a couple of unmarked silver cans from the middle shelf. You eyed them cautiously, which Eddie saw and snorted at when he saw your expression. “Not poisoning you, sweetheart, no need to worry.” He opened a door beside the fridge that you guessed- judging by what you could see past the doorway- led to his kitchen. “A friend of mine is a home-brewer, he gives these to me and the guys for free. Way better than any cookie-cutter shit you’ll find at a college party.” He held the door open for you, nodding his head toward the doorway. “You coming inside? It’s hot as hell out here.”

You hadn’t expected him to invite you into his home; it occurred to you suddenly that you were still only wearing your swimsuit. Smiling shyly, you stepped through the doorway, the chill of the air conditioning rolling goosebumps over your damp skin. Eddie stepped into the kitchen and immediately began opening the cans, handing one to you. 

You eyed the can cautiously, raising an eyebrow at him. “Do I want to know what I’m about to drink?’ 

He smiled mischievously, inclining his head toward you as he held his can aloft. “First lesson, padawan- trust your master.” He tilted the can in your direction, to which you sighed and tapped your can to his. 

Your eyes widened in surprise when the cold, bubbly liquid hit your lips. It wasn’t anything like you were expecting- instead of the tepid wheaty taste that you were used to. At first the drink was tart, but after a second it faded into a fruity dryness that reminded you of white wine. Its  flavor was so light that you couldn’t even tell you were drinking beer.

“This is beer?” 

Eddie chuckled. “Technically it’s a sour, but yes- it’s a type of beer. Dustin said it was a champagne sour, so if you like wine then hopefully this’d be up your alley.” 

You smiled as you took your second sip. “I do like wine.” you murmured, testing the flavors on your tongue. “Like this, too. Your friend ever think about selling what he brews?”

“Dustin?” Eddie asked, laughing as if the question were something funny. “Oh I have no doubt he’ll try to sell it one day, but he’s not going to even think about it until he knows he’s perfected his recipe.”

As you took another sip of the cold drink, you felt another wave of goosebumps run through you. Coincidentally, this was the moment that Eddie fell perfectly silent. You peered over your can- his eyes were fixed on your chest. You became acutely aware that the goosebumps had resulted in your nipples growing so hard, you thought if something-anything- were to accidentally brush against them, you might moan from the sensitivity. 

Stifling a smirk, you shivered and hugged your upper arms. “Brrrrr it’s cold in here!” you said coyly, “I guess my body temperature got a little too used to the heat.” 

Eddie’s chest heaved slightly at the way your tits bounced and squeezed together when you shivered. He cleared his throat, looking down at the beer can in his hand for a moment. “I’ve got a hot tub, you know,” He spoke up, peering at you to gauge your reaction. “Downstairs. You’re welcome to it.”

You took another sip. “Only if you join me.”

His dark eyes snapped up to yours, lips curling up at one corner. “Yes ma’am.” he said, his voice lowered an octave and a bit huskier than before. You held his eye contact, mirroring his lopsided grin with a charged, heavy-lidded gaze. 

Eddie led you to a staircase down the hall and said he’d be right back with a towel for you after he changed into swim trunks. 

“Aw, no speedo?” you smirked. Eddie appeared unphased. “Mental note,” he murmured to himself, “the princess is eager to see my thighs.”

You giggled, “There might be more tattoos there I haven’t seen yet,” you countered, “How am I supposed to keep figuring you out if I don’t know the meaning of each and every one?” 

Eddie placed his forearm above your head on the wall, leaning into it until he was close enough for you to feel his breath on your hairline. “You know, you seem to spend a lot of time staring at my body, kid-” You bristled at his blatant omission of the nicknames you liked. “-I’m starting to feel objectified.” 

You forced the smile from your face, looking up at him defiantly. “I could say the same thing about you, Mr. Munson,” you replied, “-and I’m not a ‘kid’.”

His position didn’t change as his eyes raked over your nearly naked body, drifting from your eyes to your lips and catching on your cleavage. “Don’t I know it, sweetheart.” he whispered, before pushing off the wall. “Hot tub’s already heated, just push off the cover and hit the green button. I’ll be down in a sec.”

And then he was walking down the hall to what you could only assume was his bedroom. For a moment, you thought about following him… but if you were honest with yourself, you were actually pretty curious about this hot tub. So down the stairs you went, carrying a silver can of sour in each hand.

Eddie’s basement was cozy, but he had utilized the space to its full potential. The majority had been filled with workout equipment to create a home gym, the walls lined with floor to ceiling mirrors that created the illusion of a larger space than it actually was. Sitting on stylish wooden slats was the hot tub, topped with a brown leather cover. To the right of the hot tub was a door with a small window that was just at your eye level. Upon closer inspection… yep, that was a sauna. Eddie had a sauna. 

Shaking your head in disbelief, you made a mental note to ask Eddie what he did for a living- as far as you could tell, he was the only one who lived here. How did a single guy in his forties have so much money to burn? 

Placing yours and Eddie’s drinks down on a nearby surface, you removed the cover from the hot tub and pressed the green button as Eddie had instructed, and settled into the hot, bubbling water. God, it was relaxing. Just then, you heard footsteps descending the stairs.

Eddie appeared, his hair let down from his normal messy bun so that it fell in dark chocolate curls that cascaded over his shoulders. His swim trunks, simple and black with little white skulls lining the cuffs above his knees, hugged his thighs in a way that made you salivate. Tattoos you'd become all too familiar with danced across his skin, and you suddenly felt the need to taste them.  

Eddie smirked when he saw you getting an eyeful without even trying to hide it. “How’s the water?”

You hummed, relaxing further into jets against your back. “Sooooooo nice.” You sighed. 

Eddie climbed into the hot tub to join you, making you squeal as he practically fell into the water, splashing you as he submerged his head just enough to wet his hair and shake it out like a golden retriever.

You giggled, doing your best to ensure that your hair wasn’t wet enough to make you look like a wet rat. “I’m starting to think you’re a teenage boy trapped in the body of a middle-aged man.” 

Eddie narrowed his eyes at you, tattooed arms stretching out over the edges of the tub as he relaxed into the seat across from you. “Hey now,” he said, voice laced with warning. “Careful with the term middle-aged there, kiddo.”

You matched his gaze, challenging. “Kiddo?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Eddie’s gaze was heavy, cocky as he looked down his nose at you. “Practically a baby.”

You grinned. “That one, I don’t mind.”

Eddie’s smile grew in tandem. “Oh, she likes to be ‘baby’, but not ‘kiddo’, huh?”

You leaned back into the water, looking up at the ceiling with a smug smile on your lips. “That’s right, grandpa.”

Suddenly, you felt a tug on your ankle and you were underwater. You emerged, spitting chlorine out of your mouth, struggling to force it from your nose as Eddie’s cackling rang in your ears. You gasped, sputtering in shock as you tried to catch your breath. 

“You are a child!” you squealed as he tugged your ankle again- you hadn’t noticed his hold still grasping tightly- not forceful enough to bring you back under the surface but enough to remind you that he could.

“So not a grandpa, then?” Eddie teased, stroking the curve of your ankle with his thumb. 

You gritted your teeth together, strategizing. “No, that would be too kind. You’ve got the maturity of a teenager. Luckily for me-” 

Using Eddie’s grip on your ankle as leverage, you forcefully pulled yourself forward by your leg and launched yourself right into his lap, bending your knees so that a second later, you were straddling him. 

You watched triumphantly as Eddie’s eyes widened, looking up at you with breath that hitched in his throat as you finished your sentence. 

“-I know how boys like you think.”

The humor between the two of you dissipated in that instant, Eddie’s eyes blown wide and dark as he watched the way the water in your hair dripped down your neck and between your breasts, which were now inches from his face. If he leaned forward, he could catch that bead of water with his tongue. If he reached up, he could hold your tits in his hands, test their weight. Press them up, squish them together, squeeze…

You felt him growing hard beneath you, and smirked triumphantly. “See?” You said smugly, grinding against him teasingly. “Right on schedule.”

Eddie chuckled, his breathing strained as he shook his head exasperatedly. “Got me all figured out, do you princess?” 

You nodded, finding your rhythm as you continued to grind against his hardening cock through his swim trunks. “I think I’m starting to.”

You shivered despite the warmth as Eddie trailed his hand from your ankle up your leg, your hip, your waist…finally resting at the apex of your sternum to splay across your neck. You hadn’t been expecting that- you faltered, breath hitching as he tested out a gentle squeeze and hummed to himself.

“Mmmmm…” He looked you over with passive attention, taking account of the way your eyes widened and your pulse quickened under his thumb. “...you know, I’m starting to figure you out too.” His other hand cupped your hip, pulling you to sit directly on his erection and holding you in place so you couldn’t grind. “You’re used to getting away with shit you know you shouldn’t do, isn’t that right, baby?” You sighed softly in response, pinned into place by his lust-blown eyes. You balanced on a precipice- on one side, obedience, which you knew would satisfy him. On the other, eventual obedience with a little bit more fight; more of a gamble, but you were willing to bet that he would enjoy that best.

“You really thought you could eye-fuck me every damn afternoon,” Eddie said, his hand on your neck moving lower to fondle one of your breasts over your swimsuit. “-and there wouldn’t be consequences?”

You breathed heavily, chest rising and falling under his hand. “I mean…” you drawled, still smiling smugly despite his authoritative tone of voice. “...I was kinda hoping for consequences.” you brought both hands out of the water, gesturing vaguely to the room around you. “I’m here, aren’t I?” 

A second passed before Eddie’s hands suddenly grabbed both of your wrists, forcing them behind your back. You gasped, cheeks hot from the water and the position you were in, straddling his lap with both shoulders shoved back to force your breasts front and center. He saw the look in your eyes and leaned forward, lips brushing the shell of your ear. 

“I can get rough sometimes, baby.” he said, voice low and husky. “Tell me it’s too much at any point and I’ll stop, okay?” You nodded, a shy little mm-hm escaping your bitten lips. Eddie crossed your wrists over each other, holding them behind your back with one hand as his newly free one reached up to caress your cheek. 

“Fucking Christ, you’re cute.” he mumbled. “Cute little baby, all alone in her parents’ big house all day, so bored she had to go and be a slut for the neighbor. That right, baby?”

Your eyes were wide and wet, mouth opened in a slight pout as you ground your freed hips on his hard cock once again, whimpering needily. You nodded your head up and down, eager to hear more filthy words tumble from his lips. 

Eddie wasn’t satisfied with that. A hand came up to grasp your hair at the base of your neck, tugging on it firmly but not painfully to force your head to nod up and down emphatically. “Use your words, baby, say ‘yes, daddy, I was a slut.’”

You gasped, surprised. You’d never called anyone daddy besides your actual father, and you’d certainly never called anyone that in the bedroom- or a hot tub, for that matter. However, his brazen demand that you call him that while you straddled him like this sent rolling waves of pleasure straight to the apex of your thighs. 

“Y-yes… daddy…” You struggled against your instinct to be embarrassed, arching your back against your restrained hands and looking down shyly at your cleavage. “...I was a slut.”

“Look at me.”

Your eyes flicked up to his, wide and obedient. He was smiling at you, beaming with pride and adoration. His hand slid from your hair to the back of your neck, pulling your face to his. “Good girl, baby.” he praised, “I’m gonna kiss you, is that okay?”

You nodded eagerly. “Yes, please!”

That earned you a chuckle. “So polite, baby girl, good job.” 

Eddie’s lips felt like the most comforting thing that a person could feel on their skin. His kiss felt like fresh sheets still warm from the dryer. His tongue was like a strawberry that was perfectly ripe, sweet and wet and a rush of relief. He explored you, he learned you, his lips devoured all they could reach and whenever they couldn’t reach, his tongue took over to fill in the blanks. 

As you whimpered and squirmed in his lap, Eddie cooed, “What’s the matter, baby, something wrong with your legs?”

You shook your head, moaning into his mouth. “I need something on my clit, Eddie.”

“Something? You’ll just take anything on that clit baby? Is that what you're saying?”

You panted, straining against his rock hard dick for some kind of friction. He was right, you would take anything. “Yes, please touch me, Eddie.”

He made no move to do so, only looking at you pointedly with his eyebrows raised. When you realized your mistake, you corrected, “Please touch me, daddy.”

He smiled smugly, a cat watching a mouse. “Good girl,” he praised, “but I’m not sure you’ve earned that.” 

Your face fell, eyes going wide as your lips formed a full-on pout. “But-” you began to stutter, but Eddie wasn’t finished. 

He let go of you, pushing you gently off you and guiding you under the water to one of the seats in the corner of the tub. The jets coming off it were strong, nearly too much on your back as you turned to sit, but Eddie stopped you before you could settle into the seat. 

“Princess, I want you to keep your knees open and ride your pussy on that jet stream until you cum.” 

Your jaw dropped open. Whipping your chin over your shoulder to look at him in his seat opposite you, you stared and waited for him to specify or maybe apologize for misspeaking- there’s no way you heard him right. But then he repeated himself, and you realized that yes, you had. 

“Press your pussy up against that jet stream under the water, and make yourself cum. Don’t use your hands. Don’t rush. I want you to fall apart in my hot tub, and I’m going to stroke my dick while I watch you do it. That okay, sweetheart?”

You were learning a lot of new information about your neighbor today. 

You smiled devilishly over your shoulder at him, taking in the sight of him lounging in the opposite corner of the tub as he took in the sight of you. “You’re a kinky motherfucker, aren’t you?” 

Eddie reached across the tub and wound an arm around your waist, pulling you in for a quick but heated kiss. “Yeah, I am.” he murmured into your lips before pushing you back toward the jets. “Now make yourself cum, I want you tight.”

He laughed at the pathetic little whimper that you let slip involuntarily as you situated yourself against the jet stream. You balanced your weight on your knees, spreading your legs enough to open your pussy further inside your swimsuit. Once the pulsing stream of water made contact with your clit, your automatic impulse was to flinch away; the stream was strong, almost too strong. However, with a little shifting and repositioning, you eventually found an angle that pulled a moan from your mouth that sounded almost pornographic.

“That’s it, baby girl,” you heard Eddie’s rough voice behind you, and you couldn’t help but sneak a peak over your shoulder at him. Eddie sat with legs spread open and one arm slung over the lip of the tub, his other hand palming the erection you knew was only growing harder over his swim trunks. This told you he was a patient man, a man who liked to be teased a little before taking what he wanted. A man who liked to play with his food before he ate it. 

You could play, too.

You pulled your eyebrows together, pouting your lips the way you’d seen him react to earlier. “Am I doing it right for you, daddy?” You moved your hips up and down against the jet, putting on a little show for him.

Eddie raised a brow, amused. “I don’t think I can answer that question for you, sweetheart.” he said, sighing heavily with pleasure as he tilted his head this way and that to take you in from every angle. “Don’t worry about me, baby, just make yourself feel good.” 

You smiled shyly, nodding in response and turning your attention back to the jets. You maneuvered your hips against them, grinding on the strong jetstream as it hit your clit at angles that you didn’t even know existed. You lost yourself in the sensation, letting your eyes fall closed and humming little sounds to yourself as your heart rate picked up, that familiar pleasure bubbling up in your lower belly  as your movements grew faster and more desperate. 

Eager to see if Eddie was enjoying himself as much as you were, you glanced over your shoulder to look at him. What you saw was breathtaking- Eddie, his wet curls clinging to his dewy skin, muscles flexing under his tattoos as he fisted his cock underwater. You couldn’t see it clearly due to the raging bubbles, but the flesh-colored underwater blur was enough for you to know exactly what he was doing. You had known he would jack off to you- he’d outright told you he planned to- but seeing it was enough to turn you on so much that it became the thing that pushed you over the edge.

“Daddy, I’m cumming!” 

You moaned, mouth hanging open as you rode out your orgasm against the harsh stream of the jets, overwhelmed and overstimulated by the physical feeling and the intense eye contact that you held with Eddie the entire time as your body gyrated and spasmed. He watched you with hungry eyes, lapping up the scene in its entirety and committing every second to memory. 

“Good girl, good fucking girl, keep fucking that jet, baby.”

You whimpered, hips jerking away from the stream as it hit your clit at an angle that was a little too intense, and your limp, still-needy body floated over to Eddie. He chuckled, still stroking his cock lightly in the warm water. “Aw, I’m sorry baby, was that too much?”

You shook your head, still eager for him- he’d barely even touched you, and yet you were so desperate for this man. “No, I can take more.”

His eyes had a darkness to them that made your breath hitch. “How much can you take, sweetheart?” 

You moved to straddle your knees on either side of one of his thighs, not close enough to grind against his cock, but certainly in a perfect position to rub your pussy along his leg, teasing him. “I’ll take whatever you wanna give me, daddy.”

A low groan sounded from deep in Eddie’s chest. “You might regret saying that one, babe.”

You couldn’t resist matching his warning with a challenge. “Bring it on.” you said sweetly, and it incited a little chuckle in him. He reached back and pressed a button on the hot tub, causing all of the bubbles to stop. 

“Get out, dry off.” he said, nodding to the neatly folded towels he’d placed beside the hot tub. “You look like you could use a shower.”

You stayed put, confused. “You… but…”

He cut you off, cupping his wet hands against your face. You could feel the pads of his fingers on your cheeks, wrinkled from prolonged time under the water’s surface. “Sorry, sweetheart, I forgot you don’t like following instructions unless you know you’re getting something out of it.” You scoffed at his condescending tone, but all he did was smile. “What I meant to say was- get out. Dry off. I’m going to fuck you in my shower. Mmkay?”

Your eyes widened, excited by his words and elated by a strange submissive, post-orgasmic euphoria. “Okay.” you replied, but when you saw his testy look in response you quickly amended, “Okay daddy.”

“Good girl.”

The two of you dried off before heading back upstairs. Eddie let you down the hall to his bedroom, which you were sure was filled with so many interesting mementos on the walls that you were sure it would take you hours to study all of it. The first thing to catch your eye was the golden record, framed and mounted beside his dresser. When Eddie saw you looking at it, he supplied an answer without waiting for you to ask. 

“Ever heard of a band called Corroded Coffin?”

You searched your brain but came up empty. “No, I don’t think I have.”

Eddie chuckled to himself, like you’d just participated in a joke you weren’t in on. “Most people haven’t. But I bet you’ve heard the song Upside Down on the radio, yeah?” He hummed a couple bars of the chorus, which you recognized instantly. 

“Oh yeah! I love that song!”

Eddie grinned. “‘Preciate it, babe.”

Shocked, you glanced up at the record and back to him. “Wait, you wrote that song?”

He shrugged as if to brush it off, but you could tell he was proud. “It was a group effort, my band and I wrote and recorded it together. After that, though, when the offers for record deals and tours and shit started pouring in, it became clear to most of the band members that this wasn’t what they wanted to do for the rest of their lives- band broke up on good terms, we just had some differences when it came to future plans.” He reached up and stroked the frame affectionately with his thumb. “But one-hit-wonder money was still enough to get my name out there, make some smart investments. I’m a music producer now.”

So that’s how he made all this money. The big empty house made sense now. “That’s pretty cool, actually.” you said, smiling at Eddie. You relished the sensation of his hands as they slid around your waist. 

“You wanna see something even cooler?” 

Before you could answer, Eddie was scooping you up into his arms and tossing you over his shoulder. You squealed, laughing as his palm hit your ass cheek with a loud smack! He carried you into his bathroom, placing you on his vanity counter before kissing the laughing smile right off your face. You felt his hands as they worked your bathing suit off you, freeing your breasts from the confines of the damp fabric. Eddie wasted no time, pulling one of your tits into his hand and encircling your nipple with his mouth, sucking sensually. You moaned, hands fisting into his hair. He only left your skin to turn around and turn on the shower, giving the water a chance to heat up. 

Once the bathroom had sufficiently filled with steam, Eddie picked you up from the counter, pulling your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. You kissed him greedily, wetly, and hungrily as he walked the two of you into his spacious tiled shower, which was larger than your dorm room closet back at school. 

You relaxed your legs around him in a silent ask for Eddie to put you down, which he obliged. The moment your feet hit the wet tiled floor, you began to sink to your knees until…

You snorted. 

“Why do you still have your swim trunks on?” 

Eddie had taken the time to take off your bathing suit, but you hadn’t even realized that even after carrying you into the shower, he hadn’t even taken a second to undress himself. 

He looked down, noticing this for the first time, same as you. “I, uh… I don’t know. I was-” he flashed you a smirk that was equal parts embarrassed and sexy. “-preoccupied, I guess.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you knelt before him, now eye-level with the drawstring of his swim trunks. “Well let me fix that, then.” you said softly, working your delicate fingers into the waistband and pulling his trunks down until they hit the floor. 

God. He was a sight to behold. And you were right, he did have thigh tattoos. They were large, twisting images of hellish creatures, undoubtedly older but still in good shape since- judging by the paleness of the skin they decorated- they probably never saw the light of day. 

You reached up, lightly tracing them as you turned your gaze to his cock. It was at full mast, eager and waiting for your mouth to encircle it and, hopefully, make Eddie moan your name. 

Which he did. 

The way your lips covered the head of his cock, the way your tongue generously licked the shaft under, over, around, the way your hands were warm and welcoming as they lightly played with his balls- all of it made him moan, gasp, groan your name. He called you baby, called you princess, moaned and pulled your hair as he fucked your mouth, and you just about burst into flames when he shoved his cock so far down your throat that you swallowed on it accidentally, pulling a growled “Goddamnit, sweetheart, fuck-” from his lips. 

When he pulled you off his dick by your hair, his eyes were humorless and hungry. He crouched down, leveling your eyes under the hot water from the showerhead. 

“Are you on birth control, sweet girl?” he asked. 

You nodded, “I have an IUD.”

He kissed your forehead firmly, one hand still fisted in your hair. “Good girl,” he murmured. “Now I can grab a condom, they’re right over there in the cabinet under my sink.” he continued, nodding vaguely in the sink’s direction. “But baby, I have been fantasizing about the way your pussy’s gonna feel for a long ass time and I hate to ask you this, and you’re allowed to say no, but-”

“Fuck me raw Eddie.” You wanted it. You needed it. You needed him. “I fantasize about it too. I think about it every day, I touch myself to you before going to sleep and wake up wishing your cock was the thing waking me up. When I’m lying by the pool reading those stupid smutty novels and some lord is fucking a lady in waiting up against a wall, I can’t focus on it! I can’t because I want it to be you and I want to feel your cock inside me, and I want it to be your cum that drips down my thighs and your lips on my-”

He cut you off there, splaying his free hand on your neck and kissing you until you were laid horizontally on the hot, wet floor. He climbed on top of you, and in a moment your mouth fell open at the sensation of his hard cock splitting you open from the inside. He didn’t spend a moment waiting for you to adjust to his size or murmuring praises into your ear- he knew you wanted all of him, and you knew he wanted all of you, and that was all you needed. You moaned, you practically screamed, and above all you clutched him for dear life.

“Dirty girl,” Eddie growled into your ear, thrusting into you deep and hard. “Dirty books, dirty mind-” 

He leaned back so that his face was directly above yours and grabbed your cheeks, squeezing to force your mouth open. Your lips parted, and Eddie spat harshly into your mouth before shoving your mouth closed around it. His eyes were feral, wild with lust and dominance. “Swallow.” he commanded, you obeyed in an instant. He felt your throat moving against his hand and smiled deviously. “Dirty mouth, too.”

He picked up his pace, spearing into you at a pace so relentless that you couldn’t even keep track of the noises coming out of your mouth- an incoherent stream of sounds and swear that would have made a sailor blush. He matched your dirty noises with his own, all the while dicking you down into his shower floor as your brain went haywire at the lewd noises of skin slapping against skin that echoed through the bathroom. 

“God, this pussy is so fucking tight,” Eddie groaned, “good girl, cumming so hard for daddy back there. You gonna cum on my cock this time?”

You moaned, “Need something on my clit, daddy.” 

Eddie pecked your lips with his own, and the way it made your heart skip a beat was like a reward. “Good girl, always tell me what you need, okay?”

You nodded, smiling giddily from the sudden subby euphoria. “Okay, daddy.” You made a mental note that kissing Eddie Munson while his cock was inside you gave you your new favorite kind of high.

Eddie reached down and began drawing small, soft circles with his fingertip on your clit. The richly gentle sensation was decadent, pulling deeper, louder moans from you as Eddie continued to fuck you. “Oh I feel you getting tighter, baby girl, that feel good?”

“Yes!” you practically yelled it. 

“Yes what?” He taunted.

“Yes daddy!” you cried, arching your back against the tile. He was fucking you ruthlessly, ravaging you mentally, and the way his dirty words melted into you made your brain go so hazy that you weren’t sure if your vision was clouding or if it was just the steam in the air. 

Your release was growing closer, that heat in your core coiling tighter and tighter, ready to burst with pleasure. “I’m gonna cum soon, daddy.” you whined. 

Eddie’s dick hit you in that perfect spot inside over and over, and you leaned your face against his hand as he cupped your cheek affectionately. “Yeah? You gonna make a mess all over daddy’s dick?” You pouted, nodding ‘yes’ in response. Eddie smiled at the way you could be so cute and so filthy at the same time- he fucking loved it. “That’s probably gonna make me cum, sweetheart, you want that? That pussy’s gonna grip my cock so tight that it fills you with cum, huh?”

You were whimpering and pouting and letting the sluttiest little sobs fall from you now. “Yes, daddy, fill me with cum, please!”

“You want me to fill you with cum? Fuck all that cum inside you?”

“Yes!”

“Yes what, sweetheart, gotta tell me whose dick you’re cumming on-”

“Daddy!” you cried, “Daddy’s dick, I’m cumming on daddy’s dick!”

“Fuuuck, yes, cum on daddy’s dick you little slut-”

Eddie’s filthy words tumbled from his lips as your pussy pulsed around him, fluttering walls squeezing him tight from the aching pleasure that shot through you. His cum filled you, and the size of his load reflected just how long it had been since he’d cum into anything that wasn’t his own hand. When he finally pulled out, a stream of both your releases oozed out of your hole and onto the floor. Eddie stared at it, fascinated, and he silently used his finger to catch the milky liquid and push it back into your hole. You whimpered, overly sensitive and puffy, your pussy lips inflamed and screaming, but Eddie was gentle as he sheathed his finger completely inside you, ensuring that his seed stayed exactly where he’d put it in the first place.

He pulled you up to a sitting position, smiling gently. “Hi.” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on your temple. 

“Hi.” you giggled, a giant smile stretching out across your face, blissed-out and more than satisfied. 

Eddie stroked your wet hair out of your face, gazing down at you adoringly. “I’m sorry if that was a little… much,” he winced. “I may have gotten carried away, usually I would talk to you to see if that kind of stuff would be okay, but I was just so fired up-”

“Eddie,” you interrupted softly. “I loved it.”

He grinned, grateful and relieved. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

Eddie pulled you against him, your body fitting itself nicely against his naked chest as water poured over the two of you from above while you sat holding each other on the floor of his shower. He sighed, completely and utterly content. “Yeah.”

***

The rest of the summer days in your parents’ neighborhood went like this: 

Wake up imagining what you and Eddie would do today. Touch yourself when necessary.

Do whatever chores needed doing around the house, sometimes making batches of lemonade for Eddie when you knew he would be working on his lawn that day. 

Lounge by your pool and read a book- this part hadn’t changed. 

Spend the rest of the afternoon at Eddie’s. These afternoons usually consisted of activities like discussing the whatever book you were reading, drinking whatever strange new beer Dustin had come up with, and fucking each other’s brains out. 

The next month, Eddie celebrated his birthday. He didn’t throw a rager (true to his word) but he did have a little get-together. To your surprise, he invited you. 

You got to meet his friends, their kids, their dogs- and see the way Eddie smiled for hours without reprieve when they were around. This whole summer, you’d been figuring this man out bit by bit, but it wasn’t until that night that you truly felt like you knew him. 

You baked him a cake, as promised. Three layers of funfetti sponge, vanilla frosting and decorated with oreo crumbs and rainbow letters that spelled out “Happy birthday, Eddie, forever young”.

He wasn’t this way with the rest of the neighbors. To them, he would always be Mr. 1405 Peach Tree Lane, but with these people? With his friends? He was Eddie Munson. Now, you were included in that group of people who were allowed to know him, and how wonderful he really was. 

You felt so incredibly lucky that you were a part of that.

[kookslastbutton]

just one kiss ༓ kth (m)

✑ Summary: You and your husband always seem to want each other at the most inconvenient times. Tonight, it happens to be right when you're about to sleep before your next work shift. You find it harder and harder to say no.

pairing: Taehyung x reader (f.)

genre/AU: PWP, fluff, smut, established relationship, married au, comfort

word count: 3.6k

warnings: softdom!taehyung, sub/minor switch!reader, swearing, kissing, asking for consent, f*inger*ng, ✨sensual✨ but also r*ough penetrative s*x (oc on the birth control), big d*ck, light neck b*ting/sucking, praise kink (both), body worshipping, pleading (tae just wants to please...), hint of possessiveness, hint of banter, m*ssionary/two ways, t*t sucking/f*ndling, impr*g kink (both), multiple org*sm, mentions of aftercare, Tae being a little whiny at first, he calls her baby/darling, mentions of vintage, rated R movie

now playing: Where I Belong by Bobby Bazini, Drops of Jupiter by Train

a/n: I have nothing to say other than I've been on a writing spree this week and this happened....heh 😅 Taehyung's Type 1 photos made me do it! Okay, bye! Hope you enjoy 🤍

Taehyung looked more than handsome when he came home tonight, the buttons of his dress shirt undone just enough to let your eyes greedily wander his smooth, tanned chest. The sleeves were neatly rolled up to his elbows too, displaying his rather muscular biceps.

He’s been working out with the guys more frequently the last few months and yes, you’ve been silently benefiting from it.

Of course, you loved the way he looked before too —he’s sexy either way.

Despite feeling very much teased by your husband (though it wasn’t his intent), your evening consisted of dinner and a movie instead. It's an old, vintage film he's been dying for you to see for ages—an underrated classic assigned by his college professor during his final semester. When you caught sight of the VHS tape in his hands earlier, you quickly connected the dots of what the evening would look like.

But while both of you initially immersed yourselves in the black-and-white film, things gradually changed about halfway through when a number of rather steamy scenes started playing.

"It's not exactly about the sex," your husband explains as matter-of-factly as he can. "It's passion between the two main leads who've been repressed for so long. Not only by society but also from their own set of social standards. They're finally breaking free."

"Gotcha," you nod, "I suppose it's a turning point for them then." You continue watching the movie until one of the leads begins climbing over the other, stripping the other of their clothes. "God Tae, they're really showing a lot here. I wasn't expecting this much action for a movie made in the 40s."

Tongue in cheek, he studies your somewhat taken aback facial expression. "You see why it's such an underrated film for its time?"

"Mhm," you reply, your throat suddenly feeling dry. "I'm, uhm, I'm beginning to see."

Once you're certain his attention is back on the TV screen, you sneak a quick look at him. He’s completely serious, appreciating the artistic direction of the film. Meanwhile, you on the other hand are suddenly getting very distracted by past images of your husband's naked body flashing through your mind (No thanks to the film he’s chosen).

Fuck __, get it together, you scold yourself.

You're never typically this affected by a cinematic sex scene for fuck sake.

"You okay?" His deep voice jolts you in surprise.

You smile, hoping you seem composed. "Uh, yes, fine. Just...enjoying the movie."

Taehyung hesitates for a moment, appearing somewhat suspicious, then responds with a simple, "Good. I'm glad."

Once the movie ends, you both climb into your shared bed, feeling mutually exhausted. You're rolled on your side now, him behind you with a hand secured around your waist. Taehyung's embrace feels so comforting with how close he holds you.

But then, you feel a subtle poke in your lower back and it tells you everything you need to know about where his next agenda is heading; he’s hard.

You’ve been pretty worked up since your head hit your pillow yourself, however, the movie took over three hours to finish. Your body is not nearly strong enough for any messing around tonight, plus you have work in less than eight hours. You simply do not have the time or energy.

Taehyung thinks otherwise.

“Baby?” his breath tickles your skin as he presses himself against your back. Long, gentle fingers find their way under the material of your shirt easily. The touch is cool against your warm skin, causing you to shiver ever so slightly. “Baby, are you awake?” he tries again, voice laced with the richest honey.

Fuck, you curse to yourself, he’s decided to use that voice; his seducing voice. Okay fine, who are you kidding— it’s his normal voice. After all, it doesn’t take much for him to turn you on with that naturally husky voice of his.

You can’t give in though. You seriously have work at the crack of dawn, and if you let him have his way now, you’ll be at it all night. Taehyung likes to take his time with you whenever you're intimate, per usual. Or, alternatively, the two of you end up abandoning all self-control, choosing to go round after round instead.

“Mm,” you let out a sleepy groan, “Not tonight, Tae. I have work in the morning.”

Subtly, you close a hand over his to stop his movements. Somehow, during all your thinking, they managed to travel dangerously close to your boobs.

“I haven’t even told you what I want yet,” he protests, a near pout.

You stifle an amused chuckle. “I'm no stranger to what you’re doing, Tae. We’ve been together far too long for me not to know. I can also feel you in my lower back,” you note, referring to how hard he’s gotten. “Tomorrow we can do whatever we want. Wait one more night.”

Your husband buries his face into the crook of your neck, attempting to snuggle into you. “Promise?” He presses a feather-like kiss to the delicate area and you can’t resist the faint moan that it elicits. Your neck has always been highly sensitive, which your husband knows all too well.

“I promise,” you barely manage to form a reply.

“Seal it with a kiss?” He asks as innocently as he can. Though, you have to question his antics. You really wanna turn your head around and kiss him like he wants, so badly. But what’s stopping you? The fact that his lips are always so soft and you know you’ll be after more.

Fuck, now you want him.

"We kissed plenty of times earlier, didn't we?" you struggle to keep yourself composed, voice cracking.

"Not nearly enough. Please, baby, I missed you the entire day. One kiss.”

God, you sigh inwardly, he’s too fucking hard to say no to.

“We’ll go to sleep right after,” you state as sternly as possible, twisting your neck until you're eye to eye with your husband. It’s dark in your bedroom, but you can tell by how lust-blown his eyes are that he’s just drinking you up.

“You’re so beautiful,” he rasps, catching you completely off guard. You blush instantly, cheeks flaring with warmth. You hope your husband won’t notice due to the pitch blackness of the room, but he does, given the cheeky smile that spreads across his face. “Oh god, I love you so much,” he says, then presses his lips firmly to yours in a passionate kiss.

Not another word slips out from either of you for the next half minute, your mouths instead moving against each other rhythmically. You both let out breathy moans as your tongues begin fighting for dominance (your husband wins easily). You didn’t mean for it to go this far, really you didn’t. Nonetheless, here you are in a heated make- out with your husband, one hand lifted above your head to thread through his silky hair.

Taehyung grunts the rougher you pull and slides his own hand to your inner thigh, gripping it tight and prying it open. Naturally, you roll on your back which he gladly takes as his opportunity to pull you towards himself.

With your bodies facing each other on your sides, his bare chest comes flat against yours, Taehyung lifts one of your legs until it comfortably snakes around his hip.

“Tae,” you struggle to catch your breath as he begins planting kisses up and down your neck, “We can’t…I...have to work.”

He doesn’t reply, choosing to suck along the delicate part of your neck instead. Your eyes roll up in response, every nerve in your body feeling like they’ve been set on fire.

“Tae, baby-” you start again, but he hushes you.

“Darling,” he coos, “we’re kissing right now. I’ll stop if you want me to, but don't you think work can wait for a while?” He then nips at your jaw before capturing your lips again. They’re going to be bruised if he keeps this up. “Do you really want me to stop? Say the word and I will.” He’s looking at you now, patiently waiting for your answer. You think he’s quite sneaky for leading you into his honeytrap, but who are you fooling…you want this.

“You’re right, screw work.” You then pull yourself over his body, forcing him to lay on his back as you sit up and straddle him. “I love you.” You then lift your top over your head, revealing your naked chest to him. He’s seen it a million times and each time he looks at you with such widened eyes, so full of awe.

“I-“ he starts, bringing his hands up to gently caress your sides. The pads of his thumbs circle over your skin soothingly and you hum in satisfaction. “I love you too,” he finally says. “You’re so fucking amazing. My best and worst dream wrapped into one giant tempt-“

“Okay Tae, shh," it's your turn to hush him now, sweet as you can as you roll your hips forward and into his. It's just enough to draw out a throaty moan. “I think it’s clear we both love each other quite a lot hm? Because I adore you too," you add.

He nods in understanding.

“Then,” you lean forward until your centimeters from his face, ass in the air. “Fuck me.”

A growl like you haven’t heard before instantly drops for his lips. Taehyung grabs your waist with sturdy hands and flips you both over, his body hovering over yours so closely as your back hits the mattress. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he says, fingers dancing along your sides. “May I?” You know exactly what he’s asking for so you nod.

“Please do.”

His palms move up to your breasts not a second later, thumbs rolling over the hardened peaks. Your back arches into hands at the friction, eliciting soft, drawn out moans from both of you.

“Shit,” he swears, hands tightening around you as he gropes your tits, “I want to suck them,” he deadpans and you nearly choke at the bluntness. Usually, he asks permission for a second time, but he doesn’t this time…not that you mind the subtle change.

“Go ahead,” you give him the green light and it’s all he needs before bringing his lips down to close around your boob. Your jaw clenches as his tongue sensually licks around a nipple, gently biting it now and then. It’s clear that the wetness between your thighs only increases with every movement. “Please, need more. It feels so good, but it’s not enough…fuck!”

You gasp when his tongue suddenly moves from your breast and latches itself to the ridge of your neck. You want to tell him not to leave marks where you can’t cover them up, however, he’s far too convincing that you don't.

“I know baby,” he hums, disgustingly seductive, “we’ll get there but let’s be patient, hm? Your body looks so perfect right now. Wanna savor it a little longer. Is that okay? Will you let me do that?”

The gentleness of his request, paired with his ridiculously deep voice, sends literal shivers up your spine. You want him to fuck you here and now, yet you feel yourself bending to his will. But no, that won’t work tonight. You hate to say it but you really are pressed for time.

“I-Taehyung if we don’t fuck soon, it’ll be dawn and before we know it I’ll have to leave and the last time we tried-“

“Alright, easy darling,” he relaxes you from your long winded argument with a small chuckle, “I concede. I’ll fuck you.”

You feel yourself clench in anticipation as you watch him get up to remove his pants, swallowing hard when his generous length meets your eyes.

You shouldn’t stare.

It’s not polite to stare.

You’re shameless, truly, because you can’t take your eyes off of him.

“Look at me, baby,” Taehyung calls you out of your daze, to which you quickly lift up your chin to meet his piercing gaze. “Tell me what you’re thinking in that pretty head of yours.”

“I…want to suck it,” you admit, no longer able to hold yourself back.

Your husband hums at your response and climbs back towards you on the bed, stopping near your legs.

“Suck what?”

“Uhm, well,” your voice wavers and you don’t know why, other than the fact that you are getting major distracted by the way his fingers smoothly guide your knees up, prying them apart.

“Yes? I’m still listening.”

Being that you’re wearing shorts, Taehyung moves his head between your spread legs and presses a kiss to your inner thigh.

“Say it,” he encourages, “we both know the answer anyway.” You can feel him practically smirking against your leg.

“Don’t be cocky,” you counter, not yet realizing the weight of your reply until Taehyung directs his gaze on you with an amused expression.

“I think we both concluded a long time ago that that’s pretty near impossible for me, don’t you think?” He replies, earning a brief chuckle from you. Not before a small, exaggerated eye roll of course.

“Alright, you win. I want your cock,” you say, “No more of this cat and mouse game, but I'm so riled up. I need you inside me. You’ll let me suck you off tomorrow though, right?”

“If that’s what you want, darling. I’ll do anything for you.” He grazes the band of your shorts before continuing. “For now, these are going to need to go.”

You nod and he slips the thin material, along with your underwear, off your body. “Fuck,” he swears, taking in your naked form. “I’ll never get over the fact that you look like this. So beautiful, and only mine to see. Fuck. I don’t deserve you.”

With a single finger, he begins tracing up your center, easily feeling the wetness that’s gathered between your thighs. You don’t have time to feel even a shrivel of embarrassment when he begins sinking into your velvety walls, all the way down to the knuckle.

“Oh god, n-no, you deserve it. You definitely deserve it,” you stutter, back arching into his touch as he curls his finger in you. He then slips a second finger next to the first, to which you involuntarily clamp down on. “Fuck, your hands feel so good, Tae.”

Your praise evidently encourages him as he moves his fingers faster in you, curling them against your sweet spot repeatedly until you’re sure your neighbor, the one who lives across the street from you, can hear you.

“I’m gonna come!” You suddenly shout, the first orgasm of the night washing over you in the seconds following. When Taehyung slips his fingers out of you, it’s no surprise that they’re completely covered in your come. Per usual, he cleans them off himself and your core clenches at the action.

“I need to feel you,” he says shortly, bringing his body over yours until he’s directly above you, eye to eye. “Please, I’m so hard right now.”

You nod eagerly, feeling similar. “I need you too. Please...please fuck me.” The tip of his cock drags along your entrance, sliding against your slit before finally pushing in. You immediately wrap your legs around his waist, hooking your ankles together.

"Shit," he swears, bottoming out in you, "So wet, you're so wet, baby."

He starts a slow, steady pace at first, fucking into you deeper with each thrust of his hips. It's not rough, but rather sensual, as he loves nothing more than sinking himself into slowly, until you're letting out moan after moan, his name the only word on your lips.

"Let me hear you, darling," he coos, dragging his length all the way out before pushing back in, "I want to hear all your pretty moans tonight. Fuck, you feel amazing, do you know that? Such a perfect pussy."

His praises make you absolutely delirious as you toss your head back, eyes fluttering shut to bask in the pleasure.

"Am I making you feel good, too?" he continues. "Let me know if I am. I wanna make you feel nothing but mine; my darling, my wife."

"Yes, fucking yes. You're making me feel amazing Tae-" Your arms wrap up around his upper back, nails digging into his shoulder blades helplessly. Taehyung winces at the slight pain but doesn't stop his movements, preferring to bury his face into the small juncture between your neck and shoulder instead.

He then returns the favor by nipping at the area with his teeth, not enough to hurt, but enough that you give a short yelp. He licks over it after, soothing it gently.

"Oh g-god," you moan breathily, "I-I think I'm gonna come again." You find yourself clenching around him right then, and it takes your husband off guard as his balance slips, his body falling into you immediately. His elbows manage to re-stabilize himself and to your demise, allows him a new angle to fuck you from—one that's deeper, faster, and causes your legs to wrap around him tighter.

"Come for me," he nearly growls, gradually picking up his pace as he thrusts himself into you rougher, "I wanna feel you come on my cock. Can you do that for me, baby? Fuck, don't hold back."

"I'm c—" You have your release before the words have the chance to fully form, your husband covered in you for the second time of the night. "Please," you start a plead. "I want you to come too. Tell me how you want me. On my hands and knees, yes?"

With a soft hand, Taehyung lovingly caresses your face and presses a tender kiss to your lips. "I want you just like this, actually," he says, not an ounce of demand in his tone, "that way, I can see your beautiful eyes when I fuck into you. But I want your legs over my shoulders....if that sounds good to you."

As if you didn't just have your release, you feel your thighs threatening to clamp together at his request. "Yes," you agree hurriedly, "Anything sounds good, I just want you. And I want you to come too.”

With that, Taehyung straightens his back, throws your legs over his sturdy shoulders, and starts fucking into you mercilessly. He's fucked you sensually, worshipped your body from head to toe, praised you, and now? He's gonna finish in you.

"Holy shit," his grunts are labored as he chases his high, desperate to finally have his release. "Too m-much...so fucking good! I'm going to breed this pussy tonight, tell me how bad you want it, baby. Tell me...please."

It's inevitable that his desire to get you pregnant slips out, as it happens nearly every time you fuck. You share the same desire too, however, contrary to what just fell from his lips, he most certainly will not be getting you pregnant tonight—you're still on the pill. One of these days you might just let both your dreams come true, but for now you'll play into the fantasy.

"I do, I want it so bad," you moan, legs shaking as his cock plunges into you, his hands gripping around your hips. "Give me your babies, Tae, I want the—"

"Shit, I'm gonna come!" he suddenly announces, his thrusts growing messier as he twitches in you. He's dangerously close to finishing, and so are you; for the third time of the night.

"Come in me, baby," you struggle to say, "You deserve it so much, fuck, come in me Tae! Don’t stop, I wanna feel you cover me.

"Fuck!" He thrusts in you one last time before the cord within him finally snaps, ropes of his come filling you up instantly. He then lazily fucks you a few final times, attempting to ride out his high before setting your feet back on your mattress.

"I can't believe," he pants, now laying on his back beside you, "we nearly skipped all of this tonight."

"Yeah well, I was tired," you reply. "But I was also extremely wound up and that movie we watched might have had something to do with it."

Taehyung turns his face to you with a playful smile. "I know," he says simply. "I could tell from how hard you were trying to concentrate on the movie that you'd rather be jumping me."

"I-What? When did I give that impression?" You meet his eyes in shock. You thought for sure you were keeping yourself pretty well under wraps.

"Darling," he draws your face towards his to peck your lips, "you can only sneak glances at me so many times before I'm bound to notice. Not to mention the amount of times you excused yourself to get a glass of water when you had one sitting in front of you, on the coffee table, the entire time."

"Oh," is all you reply with, warmth spreading on your cheeks.

"For future reference, if you want to pause the movie and hm, do other things," he exaggerates his words, lifting a corner of his mouth into a faint smirk, "you only need to ask. I'll never say no to you."

"Evidently, same here," you chuckle lightly, "I'll consider it for next time. I'm actually really tired now."

"Me too, we should clean up and get to bed. I'll get you a towel," he rolls off the bed and heads straight for your joint bathroom.

"I love you!" you call out, though you're unsure that he heard you until he pokes his head out from the doorframe.

"I love you too, stay there okay? I'll be back in a second," he flashes a grin at you, then ducks back in.

Well fuck, you think, you're never giving him up—ever.

a/n: yeah, he's my dream 🫠 Now, I'm going to be good and go continue my series lol.

Masterlist | Requests: closed | Taglist | Fic Recs

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[lalunanymph]

𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋'𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 — nanami kento

feeling overwhelmed and drained by the demands of life, nanami kento finally succumbs to the pressure—seeking solace and a late-night connection through a sex hotline. however, what unfolds next is more than what he bargained for.

tw. daddy kink, voice s[e]x, voice kink, degrading language, reader is a sex worker at a hotline, nanami is a salaryman, no curses AU

masterlist

CHAPTER 1

“Oh, fuck, yes, yes. Right there, Daddy – oh y-yes, right there.”

“You like this, you little whore?”

You whimpered, bending down a little to inspect the nail polish drying on your toes. Stifling a yawn, you murmured into the receiver, “Yes, Daddy. Love it so much. M’your little whore.”

The man’s voice was wheezy, sounding a little too old for your liking. He probably smoked ten packets of cigs a day judging from the rasp at the end of his sentences. He cursed too much as well, and though you made it a habit to try not to picture your clients, it was hard not to when you were this bored out of your mind.

He was most likely an aging, balding man in his 40s, who was bored with the sex his steadfast but oblivious wife was giving him. Maybe she knew of his auditory… deviances, and didn’t comment on it. Some of the women were like that; as long as there was no physical connection involved, they would let these slimy excuses of fathers and husbands off the hook.

“You cumming?”

You nod before forgetting that he couldn’t see and exhaled out an exaggerated moan.

“Ohh yess,” you threw in a whimper to excite him. “Fuck, Daddy, I-I’m–”

Your perfectly practiced high-pitched moans were eliciting hoarse groans from him. You could hear the tell-tale signs of his slick wrist pumping his length and you glanced at the clock.

Maybe you still had time to order takeout before the restaurants closed. Hurrying him up, you gave little breathy whispers of, “Yes, yes, right there, oh right there. Please, please, please—” you choked out a moan and heard him spew a stream of curses.

A loud exhale signalled that he had climaxed and you breathed in a sigh of relief.

The man on the other end gave a sated chuckle. “Shit, sweetheart. You’re good. I’ll tip you.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” you purred, waiting for the beep on your phone that told you the transaction was complete. “Same time next week?”

His low chuckle made you wrinkle your nose. “Careful, babydoll. I think you might start to like me.”

“Of course,” you said in a sickly sweet voice. “You’re one of Angel Lips’s favourite.”

He exhaled and muttered, “Same time next week, Cherry,” and set the phone down.

You breathed out and threw your phone down onto your paisley sheets, your shift officially over.

A ping on your phone made you glance over at the screen. It was your boss, Liza, who texted the schedule for tomorrow’s shifts into the group chat. The other girl’s acknowledged her, but you couldn’t be half-assed. You were good at what you did, but you didn’t play pretend to suck up to her ass.

Liza mentioned you in the group and asked if you could take over another girl’s shift and you blatantly left her on read.

You turned your phone over and sat up, stretching. The oversized t-shirt that you wore rode up your thighs and you scratched your stomach.

A knock on your door made you jump and you hurried, opening it to find your roommate, Rachel, on the other end. Her peroxide blonde hair was in a high ponytail and she wore a smirk.

“Playtime’s over?”

“Fuck, yes,” you said and pushed past her. “I’m fucking starving.”

She trailed after you, snorting. “Good. I bought you some ramen, you skank.”

You threw her a mock glare that melted into a fake pout. “Aw. You do care. Even if you did call me a skank.”

Rachel rolled her eyes, flopping down onto your threadbare couch. “As long as you pay your half of the rent, I don’t care what you do, Y/N.”

You sniffed and poured the soup and noodles out into a bowl. Sitting down next to her, you flicked her legs on your side of the couch, ignoring her huff of annoyance.

“Did you hear that asshole is going to increase rent again?”

You swallow the noodles hard. “Seriously? Someone should sue him.”

Rachel gave another one of her unladylike snorts. “With what money?”

You tried not to grimace, mentally making a note to text Liza back and begrudgingly accept the extra shift.

“I’m telling you, Nanami,” Gojo crowed, thumping his colleague’s back. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Nanami closed his eyes, hoping that if he did, the silver-haired nuisance in front of him would dissipate into thin air. As it was, Gojo Satoru was never one for tack and pushed a card into his stiff fingers.

Despite his hesitance, the blonde flipped the card over and written in bold letters were the words: ‘Angel Lips – where we whisper your pleasure’ scrawled in a neon pink font with a lace overlay. In the corner was a phone number he could reach. He set the card down as if it was an unholy object and levelled his colleague with a glare.

“Real mature, Gojo,” he scoffed, losing appetite for the sandwich in front of him.

Not one for backing down from a challenge, Gojo tried to change his mind. “Oi, Nanami. C’mon. You’re so stressed you look older than me, for goodness sake! Don’t you want to loosen up a bit–”

“With a sex hotline?” he deadpanned.

“Eh, don’t knock it till you try it.”

Nanami scoffed and slung his suit jacket over his broad shoulder. “Is this how you spend your time? Throwing money at women who are paid to whisper nasty stuff to you?”

Undeterred, Gojo pushed the sleeves of his work shirt over his biceps, throwing his colleague a smirk. His cerulean blue eyes peered over a pair of dark sunglasses and Nanami wondered just how someone like him could be accepted into the world of stocks and bonds. Satoru would scare half of his clientele away if he wasn’t infuriatingly good at predicting market trends.

“Like I said,” Gojo repeated, winking. “Don’t knock it till you try it.”

He sauntered away, hand raised in a half-salute. Nanami resisted the urge to roll his eyes, his attention drawn to the salacious card on the cafeteria table. He was in a dilemma. If he left the card there, people would know it was from their table. The company was small and everyone had a designated table that was intrinsically theirs and this tiny one in the corner was his and Gojo’s.

Despite Satoru’s infuriating countenance, Nanami sort of liked hanging out with him for lunch, though he would rather watch paint dry and take notes on it rather than admit it to his friend.

He swiftly picked the card and pocketed it, intending to throw it into the trash once he reached the safety of his apartment.

Nanami walked back to his office, his department building located away from Satoru’s one.

Part of him wondered why someone as young and good-looking as Gojo Satoru needed to call a sex hotline to get some action. All he had to do was peer over those sunglasses and he would have any girl in his bed for the night.

“Tch. Asshole.” Nanami was affronted. 

The fact that his friend had recommended him a sex hotline to relieve his stress was beyond insulting. He always thought it was rather pathetic how men would spend thousands on a woman who would pocket it and then never see him again. It was too transactional for him; too cold.

The card burned like a teasing siren’s call in his breast pocket and he ignored the urge to tear it in half and toss it to the ground like a madman.

It was a good thing that today was Friday and he would have two days on his own. The market was in a cyclical downturn and many investors were bearish on their stocks. Nanami had spent the whole week putting out fires that were started by his incompetent subordinate. He deserved a drink and a long bath when he returned home.

The day flashed past and soon, evening drenched his office windows. Nanami stood up, stretching lightly and bundled his suit jacket in his arms.

A nervous laugh reached his ears. “N-Nanami-san. You’re heading back?” It was his subordinate, Kei, a fresh graduate who had just come in two weeks ago after a gap year in South Mexico.

He gave his colleague a mild look and nodded.

Despite the clear signs that Nanami had no interest in a conversation, Kei pushed on.

“Got a date for tonight?”

He raised a fair brow.

Why was everyone suddenly interested in his love life today?

He left the question unanswered as he packed his briefcase. “Have a good weekend, Kei.”

His subordinate shot up and bowed to him, wishing him a safe and pleasant trip back home. He tutted at the show of grand respect, muttering at him to sit back down as he took his leave.

Traffic was horrendous and there were drunk people already loitering in the streets. Nanami pulled up to his parking spot, taking a moment to let the silence of his car set in before slowly trudging back to his apartment.

The moment the heavy doors closed behind him, Nanami sagged against the wall, closing his eyes. His briefcase dropped down to the ground with a dull thud and he inhaled deeply, the exhaustion from the week catching up to him.

Still with his eyes closed, he tugged at the knot on his tie, loosening it and unbuttoning the top of his shirt. The fatigue hit him like a ton of bricks and he exhaled, begrudgingly glad that the weekend was here.

Fresh from the shower, Nanami wrapped a towel around his waist, the beads of water glistening down his back and abdomen. He picked his work shirt from the floor, turning it around and shaking it before tossing it into the hamper. He took a step forward, wincing when he felt the sharp edge of something stabbing into his foot.

Bending down, he realised what it was and scoffed. The bawdy card was between his fingers and he contemplated throwing it into the trash can by his bed, but a gut feeling stopped him. He set it down on his side table instead. Slipping into a cotton shirt and sweatpants, he sat down at the edge of his bed, wondering how best to fill this pocket of spare time.

He supposed he could read.

The pile of books that he had neglected sat on the foot of his bed and he reached for one, balancing it in his hand. Cracking open the book, he tried to read, but it was futile. The card was like a beam, drawing his attention and Namami growled, picking up the inoffensive slip of paper, about to tear it when he stopped.

The numbers teased and taunted him. When was the last time he had a conversation with a woman?

The dating game vexed him. He had gone out on a few excursions, mostly on Gojo’s encouragement, but he never seemed to find someone to click with. The women Satoru threw in his way were either too uptight or became clingy after two dates, thinking he belonged exclusively to them and demanding his full time and attention.  

Nanami supposed that he had enough self-awareness to know that he was emotionally unavailable. So, what was the harm in indulging in this frivolous impulse?

Twirling the square between his fingers, he set it down, sighing in surrender as he grabbed his phone.

Keying in the number from the card, he pressed the intimidating ‘call’ button and waited… and waited. The dial tone kept on ringing and he contemplated ending the call when it clicked and a woman’s smooth voice greeted him on the other end.

“Good evening and welcome to the Angel Lips hotline. This is Leela speaking. How may I help you?”

Nanami cleared his throat. “Uh, hello. I… I was given this card by a friend and…” he trailed off, not sure what to say. The tips of his ear felt hot.

The woman chuckled, reassuring him that this was normal and he didn’t need to be embarrassed because they were professionals and would promise discretion. “All you have to do is choose which girl you want to speak to and we’ll link you to her.”

Nanami nodded. “So—uh—which girls are available for tonight?”

“There’s Silky. She specialises in femdom. Do you know what that is, sir?”

He did know exactly what it was and winced. “Um, no, thank you. If I wanted to be degraded I would speak to my boss.”

Her tinkling laughter was comforting. She moved on to the next option. “There’s Marie. She’s more of a vanilla one. And then we have Cherry—she’s one of the best in our repertoire.”

“What is she good at?”

“Well, sir, she loves powerful men and has a huge Daddy kink.”

Nanami paused for a split second, intrigued.

“Hmm. I think… I guess Cherry sounds interesting.”

“Sure,” the smooth voice said. “I’ll link you to her. Give me a second.”

Nanami leaned back against his headboard.

There was a disengaged click and then, a different voice answered.

“Hello?”

This voice was different from the cordial one that had greeted him earlier. It was honeyed but not cloyingly sweet, with just enough of a demure purr underneath to hint at the speaker’s sensuality.

“Hey. Uh… hi.”

The voice giggled and she exhaled sweetly. “First time?”

Nanami cleared his throat. Get it together, Kento. 

“Yeah. You can tell?”

“I can always tell,” she purred.

Nanami set his book down and drew his knees to his broad chest. “Oh yeah? How?”

Her exhaled laughter didn’t need to sound that seductive. Unbidden, a flicker of heat rushed down his spine.

“Because,” she whispered, “I love teasing the new ones. You all are so fun to figure out.”

You glanced at your phone in annoyance as a message reached you.

‘#409’ was all that was written in the text from an unknown number. The code was familiar to you; it meant that a customer was on the other end. Dialling into a clandestine hotline, you waited for the call to click and when it did, you put on your most saccharine tone.

“Hello?”

“Hey. Uh… hi.”

A gruff but deep voice filtered through the receiver and you felt goosebumps rise on your skin.

Resisting the urge to clear your throat to find your balance, you sweetened your voice.

“First time?”

It was he who cleared his throat and he uttered, “Yeah. You can tell?”

You were back on track. “I can always tell,” you teased him.

He exhaled and chuckled. “So… how do we start?”

“Eager, huh?” You didn’t know why it was so easy to poke fun at him, but it seemed like he didn’t mind one bit.

“Maybe.”

You sank back onto your bed. “Do you want to know what I’m wearing?”

There was silence at the other end before he muttered, “Sure. I guess.”

“I’m wearing nothing, actually,” you said, fingering the hem of your oversized shirt.

“Huh. Aren’t you cold?”

You furrowed your brow. Was this man serious?

Scoffing, you purred, “What are you, like my dad or something?” Knowing you had a good opening, you speared him with the follow-up: “Or do you wanna be my Daddy?”

Silence echoed from the other end. You had to check your receiver to see if the call was still operating.

There was a shaky breath and you heard him whisper, “I wanna be your Daddy.”

Fuck, yes. Finally, you were getting somewhere with him.

“Mhm,” you whined, laying down on the mattress. “Tell me what you want, Daddy.”

“I want you… to have a good time, princess.”

Licking your lips, you whispered, “How, Daddy?”

“Start by telling me the truth, princess. What are you really wearing?”

Your confusion echoed through the lack of words. He chuckled deeply.

“I heard material rustling when you laid down on your bed. There was the creak of a spring.”

You held your breath.

“So, tell me, Princess. What exactly are you wearing? Spare me no detail.”

You felt like you were threading through dangerous waters now, but didn’t pull back when the currents started to beckon. “A-an oversized t-shirt, Daddy.”

“Anything underneath?”

Not bad. He sounded like such a tease. 

“Cotton panties.”

You heard him exhale shakily. “What colour?”

“White.”

You’ve never heard him moan before, but it was beautiful.

Everything about his voice was downright salacious.

His voice was like the richest bourbon of an Old Fashioned Chocolate cocktail that you had treated yourself to one hazy night in Roppongi with Rachel and her friends. It sank deep into your chest and spread warmth down your body, right to your aching pussy.

As cliche as it was, he was different from the others.

He didn’t come off too lewdly or immediately started jackhammering his cock, urging you to whisper filthy accompaniments as he reached his high.

This man knew what he was doing.

He was good at this.

“Take off your panties.”

Heart in your throat, you did as he said, sliding your cotton panties off and throwing them to the floor.

“Did you do it?”

Your breathy whisper sounded needy even to your own ears. “Y-yes.”

“Good girl.”

At those words, your core ached almost pathetically and you whimpered.

“Daddy,” you moaned, “Wanna touch right where it hurts.”

“It hurts?” He grunted and you could hear the rustle of material at his end of the call. You closed your eyes, picturing him removing his hardened cock from the confines of his designer slacks.

He sounded powerful; someone like a CEO or a businessman. Someone who probably wore sharp suits and expensive cologne. Someone who strictly drank whiskey and had good tastes and a pretty apartment that was stylishly decorated with the latest designs.

It downright thrilled you to have an image of him like this—a powerful man trying to reduce you to your knees. 

His next words left you breathing harder, ready to combust. “Then, touch yourself, princess.”

Two fingers met your aching clit, teasing the wetness and spreading it around your folds. You were already soaked for him. Sliding one finger into your quivering pussy, you envisioned that it would be his fingers that were doing this.

He would have nice fingers, too. Trimmed and filed with soft hands.

Years of being in this business made you somewhat of an expert at uncovering how a person looked and acted based on their voice alone.

“I can hear how wet you are.”

You set your phone down, putting him on speaker. Rachel was out with her boyfriend and staying over at his place for the whole weekend. There was no one at home in the apartment tonight and you could be as loud as you want.

“I am,” you whispered. “I’m so wet, right now.”

“All for me?”

The edge of desperation in his voice made your back arch and your toes curl.

“Just for you.”

Jesus, fuck. Focus, Y/N. 

You were the one who was supposed to be pleasuring him, not the other way around.

Another voice, one that was more rebellious told you to screw it and embrace spontaneity. When was the last time a man had truly gotten you off?

That’s right. Never. Except for… No, you didn’t want to think of him. Not right now when you were being edged to the strongest orgasm of your life.

You curled your fingers deep in your pussy, hitting a spot that made you squirm. 

“Daddy,” you whined. “Talk to me. What’re you doing now?”

His breathy grunts made your insides clench in anticipation. “I’m stroking my cock, princess. I’m so hard for you right now. You’re such a dirty little girl, you know that?” Another grunt. “G-getting me all hard. Fuck, I wish you were here to suck me off. I would push my cock down your slutty little throat. You like that, yeah?”

“Mhm. I love sucking cock, Daddy.”

“I’m sure you do, Princess,” he moaned.

He sounded like an angel and it made your heart and pussy flutter.

You were rubbing your clit like a madwoman, two fingers pushing in and out of your wet heat, panting and moaning Daddy over and over again.

“I have so much precum ‘cause of you. It’s almost slipping down my wrist—hah. Fuck, Cherry. Fuck. I’m close. Tell me—ngh—what positions you like, Princess.”

Your hips stuttered and your mind was flooded with images of you bent over for him, his cock curved deep in your pussy, ramming you hard into the mattress, suffocating you with his body weight as he pinched your needy, overstimulated clit.

“I-I like it from the back, Daddy.”

He grunted and you heard his breathing hitch.

“F-fuck. I like hitting it from the back, too.”

“Would you want to fuck me like that?” you breathed. You knew your phone speaker would pick up on the longing that you were putting down just for him. “Make me your needy little s-slut?”

His breathing stuttered. “Y-yes. I want to. Shit, I really want to.”

Your hips were canting and ticking nervously to the tune of his moans and you knew you were close.

“Cum for me, Cherry. Let me hear you, princess. I’m here with you.”

His words broke something deep in you and you surged forward, a cry of pure pleasure on your lips as you furiously fucked your fingers deep inside of you, reaching that mind-numbing high.

Tears blurred your vision and you were trembling from head to toe. Your sleep shirt had ridden above your breasts, your nipples hard and aching to be touched, sucked or teased. 

You rubbed your thumbs gently over the turgid buds as you heard him reach his high, your thighs squeezing to push out a smaller orgasm from your sated body.

The both of you were panting hard and you were actually taken aback that this was the first time any customer had ever made you reach this breaking point. He heard your soft huff of laughter and you swore you felt him smile when he asked, “Was it good?”

You chuckled shakily. “Y-yeah. Damn. I think I have to pay you for your time, sir.” In a softer voice, you admitted, “I-I’ve never come for someone before. Like this, I mean.”

His smooth laugh was like music to your ears. “I’m glad I could help.”

“Sir… may I know your name? I mean, not your name name, but your alias.” You rolled over to your belly, pressing your thighs together. “I want to know what name I should scream out in case you decide to bless me with your beautiful voice again.”

There was a short silence before he muttered, “You can call me Ken.”

“Ken?”

He grunted in acknowledgment and that small sound made you smile. It seemed like he was one of those taciturn men who were lacking in genial spirits. Other women would be put off by someone as aloof as that but you were charmed.

You liked serious, no-nonsense men who could fuck you straight. He seemed like someone who would fit the bill.

“I’ll transfer you the money,” he said and your brows knitted in amusement.

He truly was a straight-laced man of his word—you were in for a treat tonight. 

Your phone pinged with the sound of a money transfer and you fought back a slow grin at the imagined numbers in your bank account. He must’ve given you a hefty tip, you were sure of that. Ken seemed like the type of guy to pay well for a service.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you purred, laying down on your back and staring up at the ceiling.

There was a slight catch in his voice when he asked, “C-can I… book you?”

“Book me?”

“For tomorrow night.”

When you took some time to answer, you heard him start to explain himself.

“I-I’ll be having drinks with someone tomorrow night. A friend. A-and he’s a handful. I need to take the edge off.”

You flattened your lips together to keep from smiling too wide. “Of course. Just leave a note with Leela and she’ll arrange the schedule for you.”

He thanked you and politely wished you goodnight.

You wished him the same and told him to have good dreams before you ended the call.

You scrolled through your bank transfers only to find a five-digit amount and your jaw fell to the floor. Picking it back up, you scrambled to see if your hunch was proven right and you were quickly stunned into an awed silence.

Glad I could help - K.

a/n: mhm nanami's voice can bend me over and fuck me till i give him 6 babies—wh-what who said that ??

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

mistletoe

a/n: thanks for helping me distract myself from everything that's happened these past few weeks ৎ୭

polls for the story: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

summary: while spending the holidays for the first time with your boyfriend’s family, you and his stepfather finally snap and a romance ensues. 

warnings:  boyfriend's stepdad!bucky barnes x reader x peter parker, smut, christmas stuff, major age gap (y/n is a uni student and bucky is in his 40-50's), college au, forbidden romance, cheating, established relationship, bucky has a tattoo sleeve instead of the metal arm, lawyer!bucky, dubcon, the classic "stuck under the bed" trope, clothed x naked, polyamory, threesome, kissing, dirty talk, public sex, manhandling, size kink, belly bulge, spit kink, masturbation, mutual masturbation, oral, fingering, multiple orgasms, bondage, blindfold, pussyjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie

word count: 8687

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When you five minutes earlier had snatched up the spare key hidden in the flowerpot on the frosty front porch of your boyfriend’s house, the last thing you’d expected to happen next, once you’d tip-toed inside the vacant abode, was the unfortunate entanglement you found yourself in presently.

Trotting up to Peter’s room, not long passed after you’d set down your bag, your mind scrambling for the best spot to plant yourself in to pose perfectly for the surprise you were about to spring on him, that the phone in your palm tumbled out of your grasp and in the hectic flickering that crackled through your senses, your foot accidentally bumped against the device and sent it soaring under the bed that stood in the middle of the room. 

Through the grumbles that swiftly flowed from your lips, you sank down to your knees on the hardwood and twisted your head downward to grant you the perspective needed to spot the still glowing screen in the dusty darkness. 

Soon half of your body had disappeared beneath the bed as you stretched an arm up as high as your reach would let you, though as the tip of your tongue peaked out past your lips and you tried to squeeze yourself further into the dark, only a whisper of your touch managed to graze against the phone’s smooth edge. 

However, when the bright idea hit you to try and find a long item to help you scoop it closer to you, a sharp sting of resistance met your scalp as you reeled to try and crawl back out. 

“Fuck!” you hissed as your right hand soared up to the clump of hair at the crown of your head that had somehow gotten snagged on the underside of the bed frame. 

As you continued to yank and tug without prevail, dread slowly began to settle within your being before a creak suddenly found your ears and washed away some of the flickering panic. 

“Oh, thank god you’re here!” you squeaked from under the bed at the person in the doorway, presumably the guy whose bed you were trapped under, “baby, I–,” an airy giggle couldn’t help but seep out and filter through your sentence as you said, “this isn’t how it was supposed to go, I was gonna lay down on your bed or something, all dramatically, and surprise you, but now none of that matters because I’m stuck,” you laughed at your pitiful situation, your bottom barely covered in your short skirt as it wiggled up at him, “Peter, please, just help me out. I wanna kiss you, I haven’t seen you in two months.”

Though your boyfriend didn’t utter a word as the floorboard groaned beneath each of his steps, slowly crossing the room till you felt his presence behind you.

“It’s my hair,” you muttered, your hand still curled up by your head, “I don’t know if there’s like a nail or whatever’s going on under here, but it’s caught on something, and I can’t get it free.”

Gently, you felt his hand reach under the bed till it was gliding up the back of your neck. Slipping your fingers down to his, the skin felt much more rough and calloused than you remembered, though you swiftly shrugged that observation off as you guided his touch up to the imprisoned strand. 

As he attempted to break you free, his body couldn’t help but slope down against yours in order to reach your hair, and as you unconsciously wiggled beneath him at every futile attempt, you felt a hardness begin to grow and press up against your ass. 

A giggle couldn’t help but slip from your lips as you noticed, “aw, baby. I’ve missed you too,” you rolled your hips and offered him a purposeful grind, “you just gotta get me out of here and then I’ll let you do whatever you want to me… promise…”

But as soon as you’d intentionally rocked back against him, his grasp in your hair began to slacken and melt away till he let his touch travel down the slope of your spine, ghosting across your curves till his fingertips tickled along the bottom hem of your skirt. 

His warmth then disappeared from your frame as he sat back further behind you. Ever since you left your dorm room this morning, an excited spot bloomed and decorated your panties in anticipation of your sinful schemes, though now, hours later, the soaked patch that adorned the cotton that poked out from under your skirt, completely visible to the man behind you, had grown to a nearly embarrassing declaration of your desperation.

Slowly and almost hesitantly, he let his touch ghost over your covered core, catching you off guard by the tickling gentleness that your boyfriend hadn’t had to initiate with for the longest time as you’d both grown too comfortable with each other not to simply be bold in your actions, but this felt as if he was touching you for the very first time, as if he thought you were made of the purest porcelain. 

A heavy breath shuttered out of your frame as his light touch grazed over your covered core, slowly swiping up and down the drenched gusset. Eyes fluttering shut, you quietly joked, “you watch too much porn,” your words came out sounding hazy as the cliché fantasy got to you too, “if you really want to reenact this genre, then I’d much rather do the version with a washing machine and then just pretend that I’m stuck in there, that’s a much less dusty version, plus I wouldn’t actually be trapped.”

But as his tentative touch kept up, you couldn’t help but tilt back into it and feel yourself sink further into the ecstasy.

Soon his fingers hooked in the sliver of cotton as he tugged the gusset to the side, glistening strings of your want clinging to the fabric as he exposed your cunt to him, and as then his touch brushed over you without any barrier to dull the sensation, a breathy moan tumbled out of your lungs. 

Lightly, he rolled your puffy pearl beneath the rough pads of his fingers, the slick sounds of your nectar sloshing and echoing throughout the bedroom as he tickled at your core. 

And when his digits stopped resisting the tempting twitch of your entrance and they plugged it up so perfectly it made your toes curl, you soon found yourself moving even more desperately than his own efforts caressed you as you fucked yourself back onto his fingers in a rock so erratic that the movements ended up being your saving grace as your lock of hair pulled free. 

A dizzy smile found your lips as you finally regained the ability to shift your head without an excruciating sting ripping at your scalp. Though just before you reached your peak, you twisted your head to glance back over your shoulder. Your eyes swiftly widened and your efforts ceased as the man whose fingers were making your drooling pussy sing wasn’t who you had assumed. 

“O-oh fuck!” you quickly scrambled out from under the bed and jolted away out of pure shock as you came face to face with your boyfriend’s stepdad, “Mr Barnes!”

But just as his lips hesitantly parted in a reply, the front door downstairs slammed and caused you to shoot up to your feet, Bucky rising as well. With your chest heaving in your hazy periphery, you could barely think before your palms began to shove at the older man’s broad frame, till he crossed the threshold of the bedroom and his feet began to carry him the rest of the way down the hall till you watched from the doorway as he disappeared into a different room. 

And with the soft click of that door closing behind him, the creaking on the grand staircase suddenly ceased and your eyes snapped over to find Peter frozen at the top step. 

“Oh my god, babe!” he exclaimed, a wide grin swiftly warming up his features, “what are you doing here?” his feet shuffled towards you before his arms enclosed around your form, “why aren’t you at school? I thought you had exams till next Friday.”

Still in shock as you felt your pussy leak down your thighs, “I managed to get done early,” you tried to mirror your boyfriend’s smile as he pulled back to look at you, “surprise!” 

When you last year had found yourself a little internship at the most prestigious law firm in town, it hadn’t come as a surprise to you just how many of the middle-aged men working there shamelessly flirted with you as you brought them their coffees. However, what you hadn’t expected in the slightest was Mr Barnes. 

Though his attempts were much more subtle than the rest, they in no way had the same effect on you as they didn’t make you squirm as the others did, but instead every time you tip-toed past his corner office and he so much as offered you a glance, you felt yourself spiral into a blushing mess and morphed into nothing short of a flustered schoolgirl.

Numerous scorching trays of coffee were nearly dropped, sentences embarrassingly stumbled through, as well as many other minor casualties in the carnage created when the lawyer would flash you a rare smile. 

But when December rolled around, and you found yourself at the annual holiday party, you should have looked up when you sauntered up to him to wish him a merry Christmas, as the dried twig of mistletoe above was swiftly made more than apparent to the both of you as every inebriated colleague surrounding you both grew rowdy, pressuring you till your lips met one another. 

The kiss may have begun as forced and hesitant, but soon it morphed into something much stronger than anything they served at the open bar, causing you both to forget your own names as the buzzing party from around you melted away till it was just the two of you in the office. As the heated kiss broke and you remained incredibly close, blinking back at one another, a heavenly curve found your lips as he gazed down upon you as if he was mere moments away from tossing you over his shoulder and hauling you into his office to have his way with you, not caring one bit about the lack of privacy the fronted glass provided. 

But just as your heart swelled in your chest, rumbles in the crowd swiftly broke it into a million tiny little pieces.

“Oh damn! Interns, they’re trouble. Just don’t tell your wife, Barnes! I know you’re new to that whole concept, what–, has it already been a whole month since the wedding?” 

“Yeah, here’s a lesson for you,” a different man shouted through his laugh, “what happens at the office, stays at the office! Not really a good idea to take the fun and games back home to the missus.”

You almost quit a whole month before the opportunity was supposed to come to an end but couldn’t, as the mere thought of not seeing his face every day any longer somehow shattered your heart even further. 

But one day, as you felt yourself drowning in the torture, Peter, a guy close to your own age showed up in the lobby, waiting for someone he knew at the firm. As his wait drew out and the minutes neared an hour, every ounce of his attention remained glued upon you. In an effort to mend your own heart, you decided that flirting back with him wasn’t the worst method to test out. However, it wasn’t till you began to move on and you actually fell for the sweet guy from the lobby that your world came crumbling down around you. 

The first time that Peter had invited you back to his home, as soon as you walked through the door, the truth of the relation between your newly minted boyfriend and the man, who at that time hadn’t been your boss any longer for a few weeks, was instead tossed in your face like a bucket of ice water. 

Mr Barnes turned out to be the rich asshole Peter’s mom had fallen for earlier that year, the one he often couldn’t hold his own tongue to grumble about as he hadn’t yet warmed up to the new father figure in his life. 

And that was how you got stuck in the bittersweet reality you now lived in. There was no way you could end things with Peter as he was the most wonderful boyfriend you’d ever had and whom you’d genuinely grown to love. But that wasn’t the only reason why you couldn’t do it, since if you were to let him go, then you would also have to let go of Mr Barnes, even if he was just a harrowing haunting of a hopeless dream. 

The house was completely silent as every soul within it slumbered, everyone except for you as plain beige wrapping paper crackled gently beneath the silk bow you tightened over it. You’d slipped into an office, that stood on the opposite side of the upstairs to where the cluster of bedrooms were, to secretly wrap up the handful of gifts you’d hidden at the very bottom of the bag you’d brought with you.

Though just as you sliced a pair of scissors through the paper to cut off a piece for the last present, a small bump suddenly echoed throughout the dark home. 

Getting up from your makeshift workstation on the floor, you peeked out into the dim hallway. Your slow steps caused the floorboards to groan as you took a look around, even casting a glance down the staircase to the entryway that bloomed below, before the noise found your ears once more, snapping your attention to somewhere deeper down one of the shadowy corridors.

Your heart thumped in your chest as you crept closer to the latch you now noticed was open. Ladder unfurled, the abyss of the attic loomed above you and sent a shiver down your spine. 

But then as a broad figure suddenly appeared in the opening, you couldn’t help but let out a shuttering yelp, even after you’d recognised the man whom your sudden shriek startled. 

“Mr Barnes!” your palm soared up to your pounding heart, “I thought you were a ghost or a burglar or something! What in the world are you doing up there?”

Ascending the ladder, you noticed the heavy box he balanced in his arms, “I was just getting some decorations for the tree,” he huffed as you caught your breath, reminding you of the still bare pine tree that stood down in the living room. 

“Right, I forgot that’s the plan for tomorrow,” you murmured as you spun around on your heel. Though as you entered the office once more, a glance over your shoulder led you to discover his shadow, “what are you doing?” you asked in a small voice as he followed you into the room. 

“This is my study,” he tilted his head as if that was common knowledge. 

“Oh,” you breathed, “I didn’t know,” and glanced down at the gifts you’d left on the floor, “sorry, I’ll go somewhere else.”

But just as you bent down to gather up your supplies, his deep voice crackled from behind you, “no need, make yourself at home,” he sat down the box before rummaging through it, taking out a few of the delicate ornaments before only tangles of twinkle lights were visible in the container, “I’ll only be a second.” 

Kneeling down beside the electrical socket closet to the door, he then began to check all of the lights, one by one, making sure none of the tiny bulbs were dead. 

And as you returned your hazy attention to the last of your remaining gifts, Mr Barnes then once again filled the silent office with his low tone, “…look, I–…” he hesitantly started, keeping his ocean stare glued to the ground, “you deserve an apology,” he exhaled heavily, “I don’t know what came over me earlier. It was wrong, completely inappropriate, and I can’t believe I let it happen.”

Blinking up at him as he refused to lift his gaze, a quiet, “oh…” shuttered out past your lips as his apology only broke your heart further. It, of course, hadn’t been ideal the way that he’d taken advantage of the unfortunate situation he’d found you in, but that doesn’t mean it hadn’t been a dream come true for you, complicated as it may have been. 

“Kiddo,” he sighed, “I understand completely if you don’t wanna spend Christmas here anymore. You just say the word, and I’ll make the arrangements for you to go back home.”

“Is that what you want?” you heard yourself utter, “for me to go?” 

Finally meeting your gaze, a crinkle found his dark brows, “…what I want can only cause harm…”

As you lost yourself in the ocean of his blue eyes, you whispered almost dreamily, “…do you still remember?” you felt your lips tingle at the memory as you slowly rose back up to your feet, “because up till today I had convinced myself that you were too drunk that night to recall…”

Shifting his gaze, Bucky then let out an exhale, “kid…” the single syllable carrying a gentle whisp of warning. 

“Or is it just normal for you to kiss interns under the mistletoe,” you couldn’t help but go on, “especially like that?”

“No,” he finally murmured as his head found a slow rock from side to side, “it isn’t,” though swiftly met your stare to caution, “and I’d hold my tongue if I were you before you say something that you shouldn’t.”

“Like what?” you breathed, “the truth?” 

“Stop,” he squeezed his eyes shut as his head faintly shook, “you’re my stepson’s girlfriend.”

“That’s true…” you averted your gaze to where your fingers were fidgeting with the hem of your skirt, “but he wasn’t the one that I fell for first… the one that I still can’t seem to get over…”

Your eyes then found one another for a split moment, locking with each other for a single breath before Bucky’s feet began to shift and he crossed the room. Catching your face in his wide palms, he then crashed his lips against your own. 

Your heels instinctively levitated off the ground, lifting you up closer to his towering height as he kissed you like he’d just come home from some mystical war. 

A sigh softly seeped out of your nose and tickled the grey that speckled his beard as you felt his starved tongue silkily sweep against your own. 

But just as the intoxicating taste of him weakened your knees, he tilted his chin and cut the kiss short. Blinking up at him as he kept your jaw in his grasp, you breathed, “Mr Barnes–”

“What the fuck am I doing–,” a faint whisper seeped through his sigh, “I’m going to hell for this…”

“So then stop,” the sound of your small voice beckoned his gaze to find your own, “if you don’t want me the way that I want you,” your fingers tangled in his tie, “just stop and go back to bed with your wife…”

“…I didn’t–…” he hesitantly began, “I didn’t expect to meet someone like you, especially not right after I’d gotten married,” his eyes stayed locked with your own, “I thought I’d finally figured it all out, and then there you were, all fresh-faced, sticking out like a sore thumb among all the suits…” the corner of his lips briefly twitched into a faint smile at the memory, “you turned my world upside down,” his fingers on the side of your face flexed gently as he uttered that declaration, “after you stopped working there, I–… I damn near almost quit myself… but then Peter brought back his new girl, and seeing you again, even if it was just a glimpse every once and a while, it was like I could breathe again.” 

Blinking up at him, dizzy from his honied words, your fingers tangled in his tie, then tightened, and you tugged him far enough down for your lips to lock once again.

Swiftly, his feet began to absentmindedly shuffle till your hips bumped into the edge of the polished desk that stood in the middle of the office. The bundle of forgotten Christmas lights were still glowing on the floor by the ajar door as your boyfriend’s stepfather let his broad hands scoop down over your body and pluck you up to sit on the table. 

It was the hold that you still had around the silky accessory knotted around his neck that caused him to slot in between your parted thighs, just a little tug was all it took for your knees to be needily grazing against his sides. Pulling on the tie, your lips didn’t stray from one another’s for but a moment as you undid the knot, let the fabric slip out from under his collar and tumble down onto the floor below. 

Though when his smouldering touches finally came to ignite against the softness of your tits through your sweater, a whimper tumbled out of your lungs and melted against his tongue, only narrowly getting muffled by his kiss as the sound threatened to fill up the entire room.  

“Shh,” he barely withdrew to hush, only tilted his head to catch a different angle before he dove back into your sweetness. 

“Sorry,” your murmur swiftly got swallowed by his pecks. 

But when his hands continued to rake across your form, making you feel like a flicking star that shot across the night sky, as his grip came down to dent your ass, it wasn’t just a soft whine that crawled up your throat, but a full on moan, as the manner he’d squeezed your curve had sent a tingling bolt straight to your throbbing clit. 

“You gotta be quiet.” 

“Shit,” you cursed as you heard it yourself, “sorry, sorry.”

This time you truly did try to keep your mouth shut, consciously biting your tongue as his burning hands nearly singed the clothes from your frame, but when his palm eventually snuck up the short hem of your skirt and slipped off the soaked panties that clung to your core, the sound that forced its way out of your body when his touch finally grazed through your dripping folds echoed into the night. 

And as soon as the moan tumbled off your lips, Bucky’s hand rapidly vanished from between your quaking thighs as he took a large step back. 

“You’re killing me here,” he groaned as he reached the opposite side of the room to plant his inked palm against the open door, shutting it as he leaned his weight into it, “you’ll wake up the whole house,” the fingers still clutching your underwear caught the lock and flicked it to the side. 

“I’m sorry,” you dug your nails into the polished wood you were balanced on, “I swear I’m trying to be quiet, I really am.”

“Well, not good enough,” he glanced back over his shoulder at where you sat before his vision flickered down to land upon the ribbon only half tied around the last of the presents you’d wrapped. His expression then softened as he slowly picked his stride up once more, “…but, I think I might be able to help…” on his way to where you were seated, he bent down to snatch up the loose strand still not fastened around the wrapped box, and when he stood before you once again, Bucky’s gaze fluttered to your mouth as he then uttered, “open up,” before you parted your lips for him. Your eyes swiftly grew as he first fed you the cotton of your panties before he wrapped the emerald silk ribbon around the stuffed opening and tied it off at the back of your head, “there,” he purred as he pulled on the small bow at the nape of your neck, “that’ll shut you up. Now where were we? Right! It was somewhere around here,” his word was emphasised by his touch as it slipped back up under your skirt, though this time when the broad pads of his fingers slipped through your glistening petals, your purrs were completely muffled against the makeshift gag. 

As his touch tickled at your core and caused your legs to quiver at either side of him, his face stayed close to your own, nose denting your hot cheek as his breath fanned against your skin. He even stayed that close as he began to strip you of your clothing, tossing it all to the floor till you were sitting before him wearing nothing but the bow he’d tied himself to keep you quiet.

Though as you shifted to mirror his actions, he stopped you just as you caught onto the zipper of his pants. 

“Na-ah-ah, kid,” he backed up just enough for the palpable tent in his trousers to disappear from your palm’s reach, “keep your hands to yourself. Be good, and then you’ll get your present.”

However, his whispered warning didn’t sink into your senses enough as barely any time passed before you stopped fighting the urge to touch him again. 

“What,” his chuckle washed over you as he captured your gaze, “don’t tell me you need to be tied up too?”

That notion sent a shiver down your spine before a smile poked out behind your gag as you playfully shrugged, your apparent approval causing Bucky’s light laugh to reappear in a second wave. 

Spinning around, the older man before you then grabbed the cord of glowing lights on the floor before stringing it along to where you were planted. First, he wrapped the vibrant strand of tiny bulbs around your wrists, tying them together in front of your body, before he tangled the remainder of the length around your torso, over your arms and all the way down to your waist. 

As he took a step back to admire his handiwork, that’s when he finally freed his dick, letting it spring forth from his pants as his stare licked up your bound visage. The strokes he swiftly offered himself were long and slow, making you press your thighs together as you watched, a yearnful whine vibrating against the cotton stuffing up your mouth. 

“Aw, do you want my cock?” he mocked as your constricted fingers instinctively tried to reach out for him. Closing the gap between you once again, with one hand, he scooped you closer to both the edge as well as the throbbing girth heavy in his palm, “you want this dick, huh?” he smirked before brushing the bulbous head through the drooling mess between your thighs. 

Your eyes fluttered as he nuzzled his hardness against your buzzing clit, though he somehow kept your stare captured in the intenseness of his own as he dragged the tip through your petals, making them part for him. It seemed like ages that he went between teasing your leaky entrance to sweeping up and flicking at your puffy pearl, though gradually each time he’d near your little hole, crying out for him to sink into, he dipped inside just a tiny bit, each time granting you more of his length till his heavy balls were nuzzled against your slick skin. 

His lips pressed against your cheek, kissing it softly as his girth split you open. A slick symphony echoed throughout the room each time his hips slammed against your own, and as your own cries were hushed, it was only the sinful sound of that, as well as Mr Barnes’ heavy breath and the occasional suppressed groans, that filled the office and lulled you into nothing short of a trance. 

With Bucky’s left hand that he had weaved into a clutch at the twinkle lights tangled at your front, the colourful glow illuminated the dark tattoos that marked up the back of it and caught your hazy gaze as he then tipped you over and layed you back down against the desk, his ruthless rhythm never faulting for a second. 

And as you layed there before him, the both of you creeping ever near to that inevitable end, you watched as his eyes drifted down your frame. From where the string of lights squished against the softness of your boobs, to where he spread your thighs apart further, letting him spot just how perfectly his fat girth sank into you, till finally settling on the dull bulge just above your glistening pussy. The imprint of his daunting size rocking within you, illuminated just sufficiently enough by the string of glimmering lights for his eyes to spot, bloomed a bright grin on his features and caused his hips to snap, feverously slamming his cock so deep inside of you that the tightly wound coil within you had no other choice but just to let go in a burst of vibrant hues. 

Once his length was throbbing inside of you and pumping you full of his cum, breathlessly he removed the gag, though barely let you fill your lungs with air before he locked his lips against your own, both of your smiles blurring the kiss with giggles as you made out sweetly. 

As Peter’s figure appeared behind you in the doorway to the little bathroom that shot off his room, his frame abrupted the bright morning light that streamed in through the window. 

Still only clad in a borrowed shirt, the hem rose up as you bent down over the sink to spit out the toothpaste foaming in your mouth, but just as you did, a quiet click revealed your boyfriend’s presence behind you. 

Peeking over your shoulder, you spotted the Polaroid camera, that you’d remembered to bring from your dorm room, firm in his grasp. 

“What are you doing?” you muttered as you rinsed off your toothbrush. 

“Just growing my collection,” he smiled, leaning against the doorframe as he wafted the small photo the camera had spit out. 

“Hey, I brought that for capturing memories,” you snatched it back as you passed him, “not using all the film for nudes,” before bending down and stuffing it back into your bag. 

The lump of guilt that ached in your chest nearly persuaded you to spill everything to Peter long before you both got dressed and descended the stairs. 

Should you even tell him what had happened and hope for the best or had you just backed yourself into a corner so impossible that you had no other choice but to break things off with him? If that truly was so, then you couldn’t do it yet, not now, at least wait until January if that was the only option. 

Though as soon as you both entered the kitchen, the visage of Bucky fiddling with the coffee machine caused the unbearable knot to slowly melt away the longer that you gazed at him. 

“Hi Honey,” Peter’s mother came sauntering in from the dining room and flashed her son a smile before diving into a drawer for some cutlery on her mission to set up the breakfast table, “did you two sleep well last night?” 

“Yeah, I was out like a light,” your boyfriend uttered before his glance flickered to you, “this one however didn’t come to bed till really late.”

“Oh, did you have trouble falling asleep?” his mom found your eye. 

“Uhm, no,” your glance momentarily flickered to the broad back before the coffee machine, “I just–, uh, I was wrapping presents. Hope it’s okay that I borrowed some paper and stuff.”

“Of course,” she smiled, “if you want a caffeine boost, there’s a fresh pot of coffee,” and nodded in the direction of her husband, “and the mugs are up there.”

“Thank you, ma’am, but I’m actually more of a tea drinker.”

“Well, we have some of that as well,” she tilted her head before crossing into the dining room once again, “take a look in the pantry.” 

Slipping down the narrow path between the central kitchen island and the line of counters, your body brushed against Bucky’s as you passed before crossing into the small storage room. Though as your gaze scanned the stocked shelves before you, a crinkle found your brow. 

“Wait, where is it?” your quiet voice seeped out of the pantry. 

“Up over the shelf where the cans are,” Peter tried to guide you before his stepfather shot him a glance. 

“I’ll help,” he murmured, “she’s probably too short to reach it anyway.”

You didn’t even have to peek over your shoulder to find out he was there as just the warmth of his presence radiating off of him was enough to cause your eyes to flutter closed and your lungs to be filled with a deep breath. Though when he pressed his wide frame against your spine, his low exhale seeping into your soul, a dull throb between your thighs bloomed as an underlying beat to his palms he then let glide over your waist before one shot up to tilt your chin and he craned his neck to plant a kiss to your lips. 

“Did you find it?” Peter’s voice from on the other side of the thin wall caused you to fumble away from his stepdad, nearly knocking over half the contents on one of the shelves at the jolt. 

“Yep! Yeah!” you squeaked, scrambling before Bucky reached above you, plucked a small box off a shelf, and placed the random tea in your fumbling hands, “I’ve–, uhm, yeah!” before you shuffled back out into the kitchen, “water, water…” you murmured as your eyes scanned the space. 

“Over there,” your boyfriend nodded to the electric kettle in the corner before he carried the stack of plates in his hands into the dining room. 

And as you boiled the water and brewed the tea, every chance Mr Barnes got to follow his heart, he grasped with both of his fists. If the others had momentarily stepped out of the room, or even if they’d just turned to face away, there he was at your side, suddenly much closer than what was appropriate for a parental figure of one’s partner to be. If he had the time, his touch would sneak down to tickle you over your clothes, or occasionally his lips would even find your neck and make you too dizzy to even care how risky his behaviour was.  

It even continued long after you’d joined the rest at the dining table as the last two seats remaining were slotted right next to one another, though this time, now that he had the table as a cover, the cocky bastard let his hand grow even more daring than before. 

When his touch teasingly travelled up your thigh before boldly darting straight to his goal and making you nearly choke on your herbal tea as he pressed down on the seam of your jeans, rubbing your throbbing clit through the rough fabric.

“Are you alright?” Peter’s mother cut off what she’d been blabbering about as you almost spit out the hot beverage. 

“Mhm,” you hastily nodded, attempting to keep a straight face as Bucky’s inked fingers kept up their bullying between your thighs, “just burned my tongue,” the mug met the table in a soft thunk, “I’m fine,” you breathed shakily and kept your gaze glued to the piece of toast on the plate before you. 

“Oh, well, blow on it next time,” she said before returning to the topic the secrets beneath the breakfast table had interrupted, “so, what do we think,” she sank her fork into a piece of orange, “should we head off to the Christmas market today or do that a different day?” 

The scent of warm spices wafted through the air from the cluster of booths, selling every scrumptious festive treat imaginable, right next to the windy entrance to a pen where children could ride some sturdy ponies from a local farm. 

“What if we all split up for a while?” Peter’s mother suggested as you all eyed the handcrafted goods displayed by the many snow-dusted stalls, “I know I may or may not have already spotted a few things I wanna buy in secret.”

“Good idea,” your boyfriend nodded as he let go of your mitten-clad hand, “should we meet back here in, what–, half an hour?” he gestured up to the grand Christmas tree, glowing in the centre of the market. 

“Sure,” Bucky’s voice rumbled, “then we can grab a bite afterwards.”

His stolen touches hadn’t become less bold after you’d left the house. From purposefully letting his palm graze against your boob when he’d helped you reach for your seatbelt in the car, to the numerous times at the market he’d yanked you around the corner of a rustic booth to steal a kiss. 

“You know,” Bucky’s voice suddenly tickled the shell of your ear as he found you standing before the line of small children, all waiting for a chance to meet the market’s Santa, “when I get you alone,” he whispered as your eyes lingered on the elderly man in the distance, all clad in red, “you can sit down on my lap and tell me what you want for Christmas…”

“Oh yeah?” the corners of your lips tipped up into a smile, “will you also ask me if I’ve been naughty or nice?”

“Well, I already know the answer to that,” he chuckled before twisting you around to face him. 

The gentle giggle that billowed out from your lungs was swiftly silenced as the older man bent down to press a kiss to your lips. 

“Wait,” you suddenly pushed him back as the exposed nature of where you stood sank in, “not here,” and your eyes swiftly darted around the crowd in hopes that they wouldn’t land on anyone you knew, “someone might see.”

Snatching up his hand, you then tugged him with you as you crossed over the small square. Passing by a small ice-skating rink, your snow-crunching steps eventually led you into the maze-like wonder that was the Christmas tree lot. 

Soon, the make-out that blossomed between the dense pines snowballed into you on your knees, on the cold and needle-covered ground, with Bucky’s girth twitching in your grasp as you tilted your head to plant a sloppy trail of pecks down his heavy balls. 

If he hadn’t riled you up all morning, then you probably wouldn’t have desperately kneeled down before him in the middle of a crowded space, just because he’d made your brain melt so fiercely that your mouth itched to be used. That or perhaps you would still have found your way here on your own if he hadn’t given you a push, after all, it had been you who had simply told him to be on lookout before you snatched off one mitten, sank down in front of him and, without any further warning, freed his fat cock. 

As you let go of his sack with a pop, before you could crane back up to swallow his length, Bucky briefly bent down to steal a sloppy kiss before letting you get back to it, though when he broke the peck, a string of saliva keeping you connected a moment as he straightened back up, a soft frown tainted your features as you blinked up at him. 

“You stole all my spit,” you pouted as his lavish tongue had managed to lick up most of the gathered slickness you’d wished to glisten up his dick with. 

“Sorry,” a soft chuckle rumbled within his broad chest as he bowed down to grasp your chin. Prying your lips apart, he then let a dollop of his own saliva drop down and land upon your silky tongue. 

A gentle smile tugged at your lips as they wrapped around his thick girth. Marvelling up at him as you found a playful pace, he only granted himself a rare peek between his neck twisting from side to side, vigilantly keeping an eye out as you sucked him off. 

“Fuck,” he groaned as your drool gurgled up your bobbing. Lips ever parted, his fingers sneaked down to tangle themselves in your hair, “I can’t believe you’re actually doing this,” he slowly brought your head back till only the tip stayed warm within your mouth, “though knowing you, you probably wouldn’t even pause if someone actually did wander this way,” a short hiss of pleasure flowed out of his lungs as your tongue silkily traced the bulbous head, “even if it was your little boyfriend, you’d probably just yank down his fly so you could choke on his cock as well…”

Squinting up at the dried orange slices strung up and decorating the living room window, you let out a contemplating hum before it morphed into an idea, “we could watch a movie?” 

“Ah,” Peter exhaled next to you on the couch, “I don’t know… what if we went for a walk? It just stopped snowing.”

“No, I don’t really have the energy left for that,” you shrugged, “plus it’ll be dark soon… I kinda just wanna take it easy the rest of today and eat as many of those cookies your mom’s baking while they’re still hot.” 

Glancing over his shoulder at the doorway leading into the kitchen, Peter then nodded, “alright, sure. We could put on some music or something.” 

“Uh!” an idea then stuck you and lit up your gaze, “and we could play a board game, or even better, do a jigsaw puzzle! Do you think you have one?” your body tilted a bit closer, “you have one, right?”

“I think we have more than one,” he cocked his head and got up from the couch, “how hard do you want it?”

“Pretty hard, but also not like impossible,” you breathed, “it would be nice if we finished it before the new year.”

“Alright, I’ll go find one,” his feet began to drag across the hardwood floor, “you go gather provisions. I think I just heard the timer in the kitchen go off.”

A gasp swiftly flowed out of you as you rushed to rise to your feet, “cookies!” before you darted along, leaving Peter to a soft chuckle as he went out into the entryway and popped open the large closet. 

Though as he slipped inside and shifted to switch on the lightbulb dangling above, near the top shelf that carried all of the games, his elbow collided with a few of the coats on the row of hangings off to the side, unfortunately knocking some of them to the ground. Among the casualties were both yours as well as Bucky’s, though when the jackets came tumbling down, a few items also came pouring out of the pockets. 

Glancing down at the polaroids at his feet, even though the backsides were staring up at him, Peter still assumed that they’d fallen out of your pocket. Plucking them up into his grasp, a smirk swiftly curved his lips as he flipped over the short stack to reveal the familiar visage of your nude form. And the deeper into the small pile he got, the more explicit they became. 

But when he reached one that captured you lying on your stomach and with your lips wrapped around a cock, the smile swiftly faded from his features as he caught sight of the hand that reached down from behind the camera to stroke your hair. His hand certainly didn’t have either a wedding ring nor a chillingly familiar tattooed pattern scrawled upon the skin. 

And as he shuffled the deck to reveal the last photo, his suspicions were confirmed as he was confronted with the visage of his stepfather railing you against the sink in the upstairs bathroom. The camera was in his one hand as he held your hazy gaze in the mirror, while the other one curved around to capture your tit, the soft peak decorated in droplets as you stuck out your tongue and let your drool drip down. 

And though confusion, rage and jealousy were the cocktail of emotions to first take over his body, the palpable tent in his jeans beckoned for his attention too and convinced him to take care of it, blindly pumping his dick till his load coated the photos in his palm. 

“Fuck…” he hissed as his stare stayed glued to the cum covered pictures, “…I guess I’ll need to have a little talk with my stepdad…”

“The whole house all to ourselves… however shall we pass the time?” 

Your giggle bounced off the kitchen tile as you hopped up to sit upon one of the counters, only moments after both Peter and his mother had driven off to do some last-minute holiday shopping. 

Leaning back against the kitchen island, Bucky crossed his arms over his burly chest and smiled, “I have a feeling that we’ll think of something to do.”

And that was how you ended up moaning on either sides of the kitchen. 

Though he only loosened his tie, popped open the first few buttons of his shirt and undid his belt to free his cock, you tore off everything except for the red lingerie your clothes unwrapped for him to see and led him to beg for the sheer mesh to stay clinging on your skin while you let your fingertips dip into the waistband. 

But before either of you could finish, the older man snatched you off the counter and hauled you into the living room. 

And as you both stood there, his arms around you keeping your dizzy form upright as he kissed you feverishly, his head then tilted back, a blooming smirk on his lips, before he uttered, “I have an idea…”

The idea in question involved his silky tie being secured over your eyes, a proposal you of course jumped at to outlive. 

Though as you stood there, one of your senses dulled as Bucky’s touch fluttered across your form, the smattering of pecks and caresses had you floating away to some far-off realm. In the blissful fog of it all, you lost track of his touch and swore on occasion that it didn’t add up, as sporadic kisses were planted in places not plausible from where you thought he stood, or his wide hands even seemed as if they weren’t just one pair. 

And as you tried to connect the dots, your fingers fluttered up to push the makeshift blindfold up to your forehead, and the visage that met your eyes promptly caused them to grow wide. 

“Peter!” you gasped as you came face to face with not only Bucky, but also your boyfriend, “I–, I–”

“Hey babe,” he simply breathed as both his own and his stepfather’s touch faded from your half-naked form. 

“Peter,” your heart hammered in your chest as tears began to blur your vision, “I am so so sorry. I–, this isn’t what it looks like.”

“Oh yeah? So you’re not sneaking around with my stepdad behind my back?” he kept your gaze captured in his, “baby, it’s–,” a sigh broke up his sentence, “I was about to say that it’s alright, but–,” a dry chuckle then bubbled out of his throat as it obviously wasn’t okay, before he then shook his head and got to the point, “we had a little chat, Bucky and I.”

“…you did?” you finally shifted your glance and let it flicker to Mr Barnes. 

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded, “we came up with a little arrangement so that we’d all get what we want.”

“So now all you gotta do is just tell the truth,” Peter’s fingers floated up to tug a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “did you just use me to get to him? Was anything about our relationship real?” he asked in a soft and sombre tone. 

“It was, it is,” you swore as you raised up your own palm to graze over his that still lingers by your jaw, “I may have lied to you about certain things, but my feelings for you were never one of them.”

“Okay…” your boyfriend’s head slowly began to rock in a nod. As he let you lace your fingers in with his own, another question left his lips, “so, do you think that heart of yours is big enough for the both of us?” 

Your vision then widened before it shifted between both of the men standing before you, “…are you suggesting–”

“Only if you want to,” Bucky tilted his head and awaited your answer. 

“I–,” you gasped as a grin slowly grew upon your lips, “oh my god!” and an uncontrollable laughter bubbled out of you. 

“Is that a yes?” Peter asked, his hand still in yours. 

“Yes! Yes, of course, it is!” you beamed before throwing your arms around him and crashing your lips against his own, only moments before you shifted to mirror the action with the older man still by your other side.

And as the kiss you pressed to Bucky’s lips stretched and drew out, it suddenly broke when he abruptly tossed you down to lay across the plush couch behind you. As he slotted in between your parted thighs and clutched the red mesh to the side in order to finally grant himself some of the sugar you’d teased him with moments before, your head sloped over the armrest before Peter appeared above you and bent down to claim your lips in a kiss to muffle the whine that flowed from them just as his stepdad stretched your open. 

Momentarily, Bucky plucked your hips up off the couch and drove them to meet his own, fucking you like a toy, before he let you drop back down and joined you on the sofa. 

And as the older man between your thighs spread them wider and granted himself the perfect view of how his staggering girth disappeared in your fluttering pussy, your boyfriend above you slid a hand under your head and tilted it closer to the length throbbing in his fist. 

Tapping his cock against your moan, it didn’t take long before he was buried in your mouth, each greedy thrust bringing him further down your throat till the imprint of his cock bulged in your neck. 

“That’s impressive,” Bucky commented on the way the younger man fucked your face, “why haven’t you shown me that party trick yet?” he hummed as Peter roughly yanked his dick back out and granted you the chance to catch your breath. 

Seizing the moment, Bucky flipped you around before your mouth could be filled once again, tossing you onto your knees and letting your forearms crash to the armrest, your head nearly falling face-first into Peter’s lap, lending him to catch you as he flashed the man behind you a grin, “you know that she does anal too, right?” 

A low groan then flowed from Bucky’s lungs as he let his broad thumb sweep across your little rosebud, “does she now…”

“Yep,” Peter grunted proudly, “she might even let us fuck both of her pretty holes at once if we’re real nice. She’s let me do that before with toys.”

“Of course she has,” Bucky chuckled lowly as he eased his fat cock back inside, “what do you say, kid? It is Christmas after all, I think we deserve something special.”

“I–, uhm,” you tried your best to answer him through the ecstasy they tossed you into, “sure.” 

“Attagirl,” Bucky croaked as his heavy balls tapped messily against your puffy pearl, “do you wanna pick who gets what honour?”

But before you could squeak out an answer, Peter instead uttered, “or we could make it a game, let you try and guess,” as his touch travelled up to tug at the blindfold still resting atop your brow. 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[bunnysbrainrot]

But I’m Better

Kintober prompt: Toys

Relationship: dbf!Joel Miller x fem!Reader

Content: explicit sexual scenes, praise kink, guided masturbation, dom/sub (kinda) dynamic, size kink (kinda sorta). No outbreak AU, age gap (Joel is around his mid-40’s, reader is early/mid-20’s).

Summary: When something breaks, you always know who to call. Your dresser is broken, and you’re left hopeless. But what happens when Joel finds something peculiar in your drawer?

A/N: Y’all. I am so pissed right now because i wrote so much on my drive home, and it deleted because of a bad connection. i can’t recall everything i wrote, so i did the best with what i could remember. i hope it’s up to your liking!

“Shit,” you grumble as you stare blankly at the clothes strewn across the floor. The knob of your dresser drawer sat stupidly in your hand, the mangled wood and metal mocking you. It looked completely ruined.

You thought about messaging your dad about the repairs, but chose against it. He was never exactly notorious for making these things simple - it would be a question of ‘So how did this happen?’ or ‘How did you manage to break it?’, and it really wasn’t worth the effort for you.

The knob sat in your hand, the screw that held it in the drawer was bent to the side, and incredibly dull. No surprise there, you thought.

To be fair, it was an old ass dresser, given to you by your grandmother when you were younger. It was weird to think that you’d had this dresser for over twelve years.

You bent over the pile of clothes and hoisted the hefty drawer in line with the empty space, grunting in frustration as you tried to shimmy it in. It was settled haphazardly and tilted backwards. Completely screwed up. You took your phone from your pocket and snapped a photo of your mangled dresser, sending it to Joel.

Dresser finally gave out, I guess. Knob fell clean off when I tried to open it

Almost immediately, Joel haha reacted to the image and began to type. He was unlike any other man you’d talked to before. Joel was timely and consistent, and he was always reliable. Even if he didn’t have the time to help, he would instruct you on how to solve an issue, but typically he helped you in person.

As much as you tried to deny it, your feeling for Joel had warped over the past few years. It began as a silly childhood crush - those early days where you and your friends joked about what older men were sexiest. Your friends had given you teasing looks when you mentioned Joel, and even more shocking was how long you’d liked him. It was a simple, harmless, childhood crush.

Until it wasn’t.

You were freshly eighteen and readying yourself for college when the realization hit you. After all those years having crushes on older guys, it would be considered okay. Weird and taboo, sure, but still allowed now that you were legally an adult.

Joel had come to your graduation dinner at the end of senior year. You remembered that night in vivid detail. More particularly, Joel’s presence set your skin ablaze with a new type of anxiety. At long last, you could freely crush on Joel, except that there was now a chance he could like you, too.

That night he’d passed you a small velvet box, tied neatly with gold ribbon. You opened the box to reveal a gold, oval-shaped locket with a simple clasp. Inscribed on the face of the locket were whorled spirals, breaking off as flowers scattered over the gilded surface. Gazing up at Joel, you couldn’t contain your joy as you gave him a quick hug. He briefly wrapped an arm around you, holding you close by the small of your back.

He broke away, smiling proudly at you below him.

“You did a great job, baby girl. You keep that up in college, and you’ll get by just fine.”

You were thankful dessert had arrived in time for you to turn your attention away, hiding your rouged cheeks. Joel probably didn’t remember that night, but you remembered every little thing.

—

You’d done your four years of college and after the endless nights with little to no sleep and hard work, you were finally graduated, and taking a gap year before considering anything further. You worked hard, and didn’t want to burn yourself out with more school immediately.

But now you were back home, and your sights were set on something else. It was a golden opportunity to spend time with Joel - time that you’d lost by being away for so long. Holiday visits and summer break was hardly generous enough to give you any alone time with Joel. You left for college as a timid girl, developed yourself as a whole, and came back a woman. A woman who knew herself and her wants.

And you wanted him, ached for him in a way you could neither define nor justify. He was almost twice your age, a wholly developed man with his own complex past and unsteady dating life.

Mr. Miller.

He had lived in the next neighborhood over for as long as you could remember. He and your dad met about ten years back at a ‘work thing’, as they described it.

Joel was kind and endlessly generous when it came to helping others. He was the first call when something broke, and the best person to have over when times were tough, despite his sometimes-rugged personality.

You’d gotten back in town over a week ago, and since then you’d seen Joel a few times, mostly to ‘inspect’ the furniture in your room - if anything had worn down over time and needed to be replaced, the whole nine. The both of you knew it was some bullshit excuse to see him at work, with those corded muscles flexing under his tanned skin, sending shivers down your spine.

That day, the two of you had enough bravery in you to flirt. It started out lightly, you gave more emphasis on Mr. Miller, until Joel requested you call him by his first name.

“Makin’ me feel like an old man, darlin’,” he teased. You remember how he sounded saying it, with a voice as thick and sweet as molasses.

Before he’d left he’d held you by the waist, staring a little too closely at your face, watching your eyes grow wide when he leaned toward you. He fixed your hair with a gentle hand, said your name, and trailed off, his eyes never leaving your lips.

He refused to kiss you that time. Though the time after that you’d decided to break the boundary, drinking him in like someone dying of thirst. You memorized his scent, the softness of his skin and rough, eager hands across your chest, between your thighs, your throat. You both had been greedy that night. It was a high that coursed through your senses. You needed him, more than you led on.

I’ll get my toolbox, looks like it could be some old hardware. Be over in 10.

You picked up around your room in the meantime, your heart fluttering in your ribcage with each passing second. The room had become stiflingly hot. Suffocating.

A knock at your bedroom door startled you out of your anxious stupor. You reached for the door and now faced a smug Joel Miller in the doorway.

“I could’ve met you at the front door, you know,” you chastised him playfully. Joel shifted his weight of his feet, pulling something from his pocket.

“Helps that I have a house key. Means I can help you even faster.”

You rolled your eyes at him and turned on your heels without a word, striding toward your broken dresser. Joel followed casually, craning his head to look around your room, at the decorations that covered the walls and ceiling. This was no longer the bedroom of a the kid he’d met all those years ago. No, you were fully your own woman now.

“Yup, the screw’s shot to shit,” he muttered, holding out the drawer’s knob to you. “See the end of it? Shouldn’t be that dull - gotta have it replaced every now and then.”

“Do you have the right screw for it?”

He nodded, popping open his toolbox and assessing the different screws in each compartment. His hands flexed with each movement, the veins branching across them shifted with every twitch and roll of his thick fingers. Your legs clenched while the most intrusive thoughts filled your head. Specifically those hands, and what you could imagine them doing to you.

Procuring the right screw, Joel handed it to you. You looked at him in innocent confusion.

God, those eyes. If he had the chance, Joel would look into them all day, to let himself get swallowed whole by their beauty. And when you looked at him all pretty like that, as if you had no idea what you were doing to him, it drove him wild. You knew exactly what you were doing when you’d flirt with Joel, but couldn’t gauge his reciprocation, or if he was even okay with the weird ‘relationship’ you had.

It had been confusing for long enough. Someone needed to make a move, and Joel wasn’t sure if you had it in you to do it. Neither were you.

“I wanna see you try it for yourself,” he explained.

“If it’s so easy, why can’t you do it?” you quipped with a smile, but still taking the knob in your hands. Joel gave no reply and waited patiently for you to back down and do it yourself.

It was far easier than you thought. You handed it back to Joel with a proud smile. His eyes thoughtfully scanned your face before finding home in your eyes.

“Smart girl. I knew you could do it.”

Heat rushed across your cheeks like a harsh sunburn, completely taken over by the brightness in his honeyed tone and brown eyes. Joel laughed at your reaction before he worked on the drawer knob, fiddling it into place. His hands rummaged through your drawer as he worked, and paid no mind to the clothes, though you just realized. This was your underwear drawer - full of lacy underwear, bras of all varieties, and one final item you prayed you hid well enough.

Joel’s hands pushed through your panties as you held your breath. After the drawer had fallen out you’d lazily threwn everything back in the drawer and paid no mind to its organization. Since it wasn’t on the bed or the floor, by accident, you were certain that Joel would cross paths with a toy of yours.

He struck something solid amidst the clothes. The material was solid and heavy, with a bit of give from the silicone. At that moment, he could’ve left it ignored, but there was no fun in that, he thought. Joel gripped the dildo at the base, pulling out of the tangle of clothes and handed it to you, flashing you with a smirk.

“You should find a better place for this,” he drawled. “Never know who could find it.”

You quickly grabbed it from him and scanned your room for another hiding spot, but nothing came to mind. Instead you plopped it back in the drawer, on the opposite side.

“Most people don’t get to go through my underwear, so you can’t give me shit for that,” you grumbled. Joel stood, groaning at the strain on his joints. You giggle at the noise, and gave him your usual teasing, “Old man.”

Ignoring your jab, Joel leaned against the chest of drawers, arms crossed over his chest in a stare down.

His voice was dark. It had become devious, knowing, and more stern than you’d imagined.

“You use it on yourself?”

You choked on your spit harshly, not expecting his question to be so direct. Joel placed a wide hand between your shoulder blades and gave you a pat, coaxing you back to normal.

“Joel,” you pant, catching your breath, “you can’t just- just ask me that.”

“And you wouldn’t be curious if the roles were reversed, I’m sure,” he said coolly.

The redness had returned to your cheeks while you debated on your answer, but your hesitation told Joel everything he needed to know. In the smallest way, you’d let it slip that you imagine him in your free time, not that it wasn’t the same case for him. If anything, it’d been worse. Every text you’d sent him set him ablaze; at night he thought about you in detail and palmed himself through his pants, or pumped his cock in a fervent hand as he thought of you, squeezing himself inside your tight pussy. Countless nights he’d stained himself with his own seed, wishing it was inside of you instead, where it belongs. That toy should be him, it always should’ve been.

“Do you?”

You huffed and turned away from him, striding toward the bed to adjust your pillows - any sort of casual distraction from the question.

“Why do you want to know?” you countered.

Joel’s hands brushed against your hips from behind, his feather-soft fingertips brushing across the skin above your jeans. You drew in a breath as Joel whispered next to your ear.

“Because I’m a selfish old bastard, and I’m wondering what it looks like.”

“What what looks like?” you ask softly. You knew precisely what he meant but you wanted to hear something from him anyway.

He burrowed his head at the crook of your neck, gently kissing your skin up to the soft spot below your ear. His breath flew over your skin hot and heavy, sending a new wave of heat to your core.

“I want to see your face when you’re all filled up. I gotta see what your little pussy looks like when it’s all stretched out.”

You pushed your hips back flush with his to find a growing bulge trapped in his jeans. Joel rolled his hips into your ass, groaning at the constraint of the rough denim.

“Joel,” you breathed.

He mumbled against your neck, “What is it baby girl?”

Shoving your ass against his crotch, you whined, “I need you. Please… need you so badly.”

His hum rumbled against your skin, sending goosebumps rolling across your arms. A hand wound up to your hair and tugged a good handful back toward him. You gazed up at him with those beautiful glossed over eyes he dreamed about. He pictured this look on your face for a few years now, and he finally had the joy of seeing it, of causing it himself.

“Not givin’ it to you yet, baby,” he tugged once more on your hair when you whined in protest, “Gonna try something different first.”

In one movement you were facing him, finding two dark eyes staring you down, pupils both blown in lust. Joel gripped the back of your head carefully now, cradling you like something precious, something coveted. This was exactly how he saw you. You were someone to protect and take care of, and now it’s shifted to something far more intimate. Joel vowed to himself that he would make you feel every ounce of pleasure you’d been missing out on. All those nights where his hand replaced your pussy built up a frustration only you could truly fix.

Joel crashed his mouth to yours, as he’d done twice before this, and the kiss sent the same heat through your body. You clenched your thighs in a pitiful attempt to gain pressure against your swollen clit, nestled sweetly between your soft folds, soaking your underwear with your slick.

He pressed you backward until your knees hit the edge of the bed. The kiss was no short of pure ecstasy. The way his stubble scratched against your cheeks, the way his breathing grew heavy when you bit at his lower lip, the way his tongue edged into your mouth to explore every inch.

You gasped when Joel pulled away, watching him step to your dresser and draw out the dildo you’d hidden back inside. He turned to you with the toy in hand, wobbling slightly in his grip.

“‘S a pretty big one, sweetheart, you actually use all of it?” his voice was far too casual for a man holding your dildo.

You offer him half a nod, “Kind of. I’ve been trying to get… all the way in.” Joel assessed your words before he joined you on the bed, holding the toy against your stomach, at the base of your pelvis. He let out a low whistle when he saw where the toy’s length ended at your tummy, past your bellybutton.

“All of that inside you… felt pretty daring getting one so big, huh?”

That wasn’t the case and it was the most embarrassing part. The truth is, you chose the size based on your image of Joel. You didn’t even know how endowed he was, but you let your fantasy of him take over. That, and the time your hand brushed against his erection during your last kiss.

“I wanted to see if it would feel like you,” you admitted.

Joel’s eyes crinkled with his laugh, “Darlin’, a toy don’t compare to the real thing. Not really.”

You jabbed his arm at his teasing, “Listen, I’m doing the best with what I got, okay?”

“Yeah, but it’s not the best you could get, now is it?” he purred, pushing forward to plant a kiss on your neck. You shook your head, knowing he was exactly right. The toy would never really feel like the real thing.

You glanced up at him with a nervous expression, furrowing your brows, “What did you want to do?”

Joel looked at you coolly and leaned back onto his elbows. He eyed you, then the toy in his hand, then back to you.

“You gonna make it fit - take it all the way - and I’m gonna help.”

Crimson shaded your cheeks at the thought, staring nervously at the toy. Surely you were wet enough to take it, but the action of pushing further, to get it in completely, had been a challenge. In hopes to boost your bravery, you hunched over him, kissing him harshly as your hands flew to your pants. You fumbled with the waistband and slid them off of you, until you were stark naked, laid and bare before Mr. Miller.

He simply drank you in as you sat nervously in the lamplight. Joel eyed you darkly, his eyes raking from your quivering thighs, your slightly hidden sex - masked by your censoring hands, to your perk nipples atop each soft breast, and to your face, eyes half-lidded in pleasure adjoined with your soft panting.

“Jesus.”

You ducked your head sheepishly, shaking slightly to decline the compliment. Joel looked you over fondly as his hand found your cheek, brushing a thumb over your cheekbone. You glanced down at him, still giving you that goofy smirk and a excited glint in his eye.

Joel kept eye contact as his hand traveled down your body - through the valley between your breasts, down your tummy, to just above your slit, daringly close to dipping between your wet folds. You pushed yourself into your knees and knelt at his side, your aching cunt exposed to him in the dimly lit room.

He trailed his hand up each thigh, halting just before he reached your pussy. Each touch was carefully light in a way that made your whole body shudder against him. A single finger slithered up your thigh once again, finally finding its way through your slit, nestling comfortably against your clit and drawing lazy circles.

You cried out against a hand held at your mouth. Joel’s hand smelled of metal and bourbon, mixed with pine and lemongrass. He smelled smoky and fresh and completely warm against your face. You bestowed your face into his palm as he gained a rhythm on your clit, drawing out the smallest cries against his skin.

“Nice and wet for me already, darlin’, that’s good… that’s such a good girl. Drippin’ and ready.”

Another dumb nod has him chuckling while his finger skirted lightly across your clit, teasing the bundle of nerves until your stomach grew tighter.

“Gonna cum, baby? You gonna cum for me already?” His comment draws another moan from you, falling like a melody past your bitten lips, a chorus straight from heaven, just for Joel.

“It’s okay, baby doll, go ‘head. Cum for daddy,” he said sweetly, the Southern drawl thick through his words.

You unravel around him, jolting your hips as your orgasm takes over your senses. A soft cry sounds through your gritted teeth; you gently grind your hips onto the pad of his finger to ride through the shockwaves. Joel leans up to kiss your shoulder, his lips warm and supple.

“Just as beautiful as I imagined,” whispered Joel. His tongue skirts along your skin to your neck, fully sitting beside you to bore his eyes into yours.

You glanced back at him with lust-blow pupils, steadying your breath as his hand slowed its tempo. Joel gave you a lazy smile, the lamplight catching the salt-and-pepper hairs of his scruff in a soft display of his rugged features.

“Can,” you started, “you be… inside me?”

Joel’s hands found your hips and gripped snugly. The look in his eyes was nothing short of affectionate. Even still, he shook his head.

“Not tonight darlin’,” he replies, “I want you to show me how you look using this-“ he points to the dildo on his opposite side, waiting. “Since you think a toy could be so much better than me-“

“That’s not it at all,” you protest, “I needed something, Joel.”

He holds up a hand to stop you mid-sentence, “You could’ve asked me, but ya didn’t, did ya?”

You gave him a scowl, “I didn’t think this would happen, Joel.”

Ever since you hit eighteen, he wanted you to practice calling him by his first name purely out of comfortability, and since you’d grown up, it seemed more fitting.

He doesn’t reply, but his smirk grows when he brings the dildo over to you, sitting between your thighs. It was embarrassing enough with how little of the toy you could handle this far, and to do it in front of Joel seemed doubly humiliating.

Joel gives your ass a small smack to lift you up. You rise, letting him set the toy between your thighs and beneath your throbbing entrance. He cleared his throat, daring your attention back to him.

“Go at your own pace, but get it all in, sweet girl.”

All thought had left you - your only reply being in an eager nod. You started off slowly, notching the toy in at your tight hole, and slowly bounced yourself along its length. Your legs shook with each movement as you filled yourself more and more, every gyration sent shockwaves of pleasure through every inch of your being.

It took a few moments to ease yourself fully, now bouncing on the dildo’s length until it became glossy with your slick. Joel eyed you affectionately. Your face twisted in ways he couldn’t imagine, and your cunt wrapped around the toy in ways he could only dream of.

Joel patted your thigh as you bottomed out at the hilt of the toy. He pawed at your hips, kneading at the tender flesh of your ass, and pulled you into a grinding motion, setting the dildo ever deeper into your cunt. It struck a new spot deep inside of you, pushing against your cervix. A low moan fell from you as you moved your hips absentmindedly, solely following Joel’s command.

The tightness in your stomach only grew as his praises flowed through your head.

“Such an obedient lil’ thing.”

“That’s a dirty girl, gettin’ all needy like that. Wishin’ it was me in your sweet pussy, don’t you?”

“You have no idea how badly I want to fill you right now, baby doll.”

You mewled softly as another orgasm crashed through you, your hips sputtering as you ground onto the toy. Joel’s hands caressed you through your high, though he didn’t stop tugging your hips. He beamed lazily when you cried his name once again, shuddering around the toy nestled inside of you.

“Attagirl,” whispered Joel, “so fuckin’ beautiful..”

You shook your head at him like before, but he showed no signs of backing down from his stance. Joel peppered your thighs with kisses and he lifted you off the toy, listening to your whines as you were left feeling empty. His cock twitched in his jeans, eager to play.

But not yet. He needed to see this first.

“How was that, sweet girl?”

A beat of silence said every unspoken thing you’d come up with. It was good, but not mind-boggling. Not the ‘fucked til you’re dumb’ pleasure you’d expected from tonight.

Joel patted your ass, “That’s the thing. Toys… they feel nice. But-“ He plants a kiss to your cheek, then your lips, grazing over the swollen skin.

“I’m better.”

The next few minutes consisted of cleaning after yourself and settling back into your clothes. Joel fixed your hair neatly before looking you over.

“Cant stay long tonight, darlin’, gotta get back home.”

You sighed dramatically at him, to which he scoffed away the gesture. On his way out, he gave you a far more longing look - a loving, thoughtful gaze that told you one thing.

You were his. Completely and wholly. It was clear he saw you differently now, as you did him.

Joel fucking Miller.

MDNI spacer is by cafekitsune!

hi everyone! thank you for so much incredible support on this fic!

Just FYI: Blood Flow, and Daddy’s Girl are now up as parts 2 and 3! have fun, lovelies

[itgetsdark-x]

I Wanna See You Beggin’

Summary: Joel Miller is your dad’s best friend, you knew it was wrong, you knew it would only cause trouble but you couldn’t help the way you ached for the man. (Title is from I Hate Myself for Loving You — Joan Jett & The Blackhearts) 6.9k words. I’m sorry.

Characters: dbf!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Warnings: 18+ only, no minors as it’s just a big ol’ load of smut… praise kink (use of ‘good girl’ a lot), p in v sex, unprotected (be sensible and wrap before u tap, pls), age gap (reader is mid twenties, Joel would be in his late 40s), use of the word ‘daddy’, oral (f receiving), no outbreak in this au.

A/N: hi guys, I haven’t written smut for years and Joel Miller has me frothing at the mouth and giggling like a little girl with a crush especially dbf!joel… Anyway, if this is enjoyed by people, I have an idea of how I could make this into a series. Please leave me nice comments or catch me crying in a corner somewhere lol

“Dad,” you huffed into the receiver as you held your phone to your ear with your shoulder. “I love you and all but I could think of better ways to spend my Friday night rather than listening to you and Joel argue over which 80’s band is the best.” You chuckled fondly as you carried on typing away at the laptop in front of you whilst you spoke into your phone. 

“Sweetheart, I love spending time with you and Joel, you love him as well! I’ll pay for dinner?” He spoke softly and you smiled as your could hear your dad’s smile down the phone. 

“Fine, what time do you want me round, old man?” You teased fondly. “I finish work at 5 today.”

“6:30pm work okay for you? Don’t forget to bring some beer.” Your dad asked with a smirk. 

You rolled your eyes before responding to him, “Fine, I’ll bring the beers but as soon as you and the other old man start arguing, I’m out!” You laughed. 

“Deal,” your dad agreed. “I’ll see you later my sweet pea, love you!” He hummed and hung up before you could respond. 

“Old men and technology.” You muttered to yourself before taking your phone and opening your messaging app. 

You quickly tapped on the screen and chewed on your lip as you did so. 

‘You need a lift to dad’s later? x’ you hit send and placed your phone down on your desk, returning your attention back to your work laptop. You were in the midst of replying to an email when your phone buzzed on your desk beside you. 

‘Sure thing, peach. See you around 6? :) Xx’

You couldn’t help the way your lips upturned into a smile, and as soon as you caught the reaction you chewed on your bottom lip. You hated the way the older male had such a visceral effect on you, you had known Joel Miller for around ten years now. You moved to the city and your father worked with him, the two of them soon became best buddies which in turn, meant he spent a lot of time around you and your house. When you first met Joel you were a mere sixteen-year old kid, from day one you felt an instant attraction to him, you knew it was wrong but you couldn’t deny it. In the beginning it felt like a harmless, childish crush, one that you were bound to grow out of but things only seemed to get worse the older you got, that attraction burned deep in your veins and any time you spent time with the older man you couldn’t help the way your cheeks burned and your pussy throbbed; there had been many nights where you had dropped him home after visiting your dad and rushed home just so you could relieve your tension. Your fingers buried deep in yourself, moaning Joel’s name as you came around them. 

You felt shameful, dirty and down-right embarrassed about those moments but it didn’t stop you from doing it again, and again.. and again. You knew Joel would never cross that line, never, he was too much of a gentleman and had way too much respect for your old man but that didn’t stop the feelings you had for him.

Your mind was reeling, so much so you barely noticed the way your thighs pressed themselves together searching for some relief to your aching core, you stood from your desk in your room and stretched before you looked at the time on your desktop, it read 4pm. You sighed and went to your kitchen to grab a snack and make yourself a strong coffee, you had an hour left of work before you had to shower and get ready before picking Joel up. 

The last hour of your work felt excruciatingly slow, your mind was busy with thoughts of your evening ahead of you; it was no different to your usual Friday get-together with your dad and his friend but today you couldn’t erase the filthy thoughts of Joel from your mind. You quickly showered, hoping the hot water would wash your mind and body clean, you ignored the burning to urge to relieve some tension and give your body the orgasm and relief it so badly needed. 

After showering you, you applied a light layer of make-up, like usual before pulling your hair up in a half-up and half-down style. You looked into your wardrobe and reached for a plain black tank top, orange plaid over shirt and black tennis skirt; you paired the outfit with your favourite pair of black converse. You put your accessories on; earrings, rings and gave your body a spritz of your favourite perfume. After grabbing the 12-pack of beer from the fridge, you quickly grabbed your phone and keys off the counter and left your apartment to go and pick up Joel. 

You were running a tad late but that wasn’t out of the ordinary, and Joel was always expecting it. You pulled up outside his home, gave a beep of your horn and took a shaky breath in as you saw him lock up and approach your car. Your hands gripped the steering wheel a little tighter as he climbed into your car and suddenly your senses were attacked with the older male. The small space filled with his heady scent, his aftershave musky, spicy and just Joel. He was wearing dark grey jeans, not too tight but tight enough to appreciate his thick thighs and your eyes couldn’t help but notice his bulge as he walked. Joel was wearing a dark khaki over shirt and a black T-shirt under that went perfectly with his jeans, and of course, he was wearing his trusty dealer boots. 

“Hey peach,” he spoke and leant over to press a kiss to the side of your head. It was something he had done for years, only now, you craved to feel his lips elsewhere. 

“Hey old man.” You grinned and started your car once more. 

The journey to your father’s house was short, only about twenty minutes; it was annoying that he didn’t live in the same neighbourhood as it always meant you or, on occasion, Joel had to drive. It was a comfortable journey as the two of you spoke about your respective day’s and week’s. 

“So you’re not hanging out with that guy again tonight, oh, what was his name!?” Joel questioned, searching his brain for the name. “Derek? No, no, he definitely seemed like a George!” He laughed, his hands resting comfortably on his thigh, you couldn’t help the way your eyes glanced down at his large digits. 

“His name was Ben, and you know that, Joel. You’re just being a dick.” You shook your head quickly with a laugh. “And nope, dad had other ideas for me… clearly babysitting duties. I would much prefer to be out with Ben but here we are…” You said softly with a roll of your eyes, it was a lie, of course. You would happily spend every waking moment with Joel, if he let you, exploring his body, sharing your thoughts with one another. 

His hand tensed on his thigh, it was brief and barely noticeable but you did notice it; that was… weird? You shook off the feeling and parked up outside your dad’s apartment block. 

“Anyway, I love babysitting you old men. It’s cute. Great practice for when I actually want kids.” You laughed, turning off the ignition and climbing out of your car. “And, I’ve warned dad, slightest hint of bickering between you two and I am out. Gone. Done. You can walk home.” As you spoke, you bent over to reach into the back seat of your car to grab the beers, one leg slightly lifted as your body struggled slightly to pull them closer; you hadn’t given the motion much thought, especially in your outfit.

Joel moved until he was stood behind you, he cleared his throat and looked away sheepishly after catching a glimpse of your black, lace panties. His hand rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly. “Uh hon, you might want me to grab those? Gonna give someone a heart attack if they see you like that.” His voice was soft as he spoke, still not making eye contact with you. 

“Shit. Sorry, Joel.” You cursed, your cheeks flushed red as you watched the dark haired man grab the beers and you smoothed out your skirt.

The rest of the evening played out like usual; your dad and Joel had a few beers each, you allowed yourself to have one as you were driving and you all ate way too much Chinese take-out. It was getting late, you were laid out on your dad’s couch, your legs swung over your dad’s lap, Joel was sat in the lazy-boy across the room, his legs sprawled wide. This was always part of the routine, you would all catch up on your week’s complain about work, talk about sport’s games that had happened or were about to occur, it was familiar and safe. 

“So get this, bud,” Joel spoke, his voice breaking the noise of whatever Depeche Mode record they had put on the player. “Y/N over here was saying she would have preferred to have hung out with that douche, Ben, we met last month. Can you believe that?” He looked over at you, smirking as he took a swig of his beer. 

“Dick,” you mouthed over to him and let your head hang back onto the arm of the sofa. 

Your dad opened his eyes and looked over at you. “Is that right, sweet pea? You don’t wanna hang out with your favourite ‘old men’?! I’m truly offended.” He laughed, closing his eyes again, feigning hurt. 

“Joel is just bitter I have a better love life and sex life than him.” You shot back, immaturely sticking your tongue out at the other male. 

“Gross! Dad in the room!” Your dad grimaced, watching his hands in front of his face. “You’re my little girl, I don’t wanna hear about you having sex.”

“Hey — that’s not even true, I have sex… plenty of it…” Joel huffed, trying to sound convincing as he lied through his teeth. In truth, Joel never really had an interest in the women he had met, sure he took a few women home from bar to sleep with them but after he lost his wife and child, Sarah, he never really had it in him to give dating a proper go. 

“Sureeee you do,” you giggled, causing your dad to let out a loud laugh.

You all laid about a bit longer, listening to music and joking around before you sat up and stretched your back out, causing your tank top to rise, showing a small sliver of soft skin to show. There it was again, Joel’s hand tensed in place and it was almost as if his jaw clenched down. You were sure you were imagining these things, like usual so you pushed yourself off the sofa and smoothed your clothes out. 

“Right, pop’s I better get old man Miller home before I pass out here. I’m shattered.” You yawned, reinforcing your previous sentence. 

After saying your goodbyes you walked back to your parked car, the cool chill of the late-night air made your skin prick up with goosebumps and sent a small shiver down your spine. 

Joel and you walked in silence, the silence remained as you started your car and cranked the heating up.

“Dick move, bringing up Ben to my dad by the way, Miller. Real dick move.” You spoke, your voice seeming loud in the confined and silent space, just the low thrum of your car’s air vents trying to clear the windows and fill the air with warmth.

“Ha, sorry, Peach. Couldn’t resist it. Was right there for me to tease you with.” He laughed lowly, bringing his hands up to blow some warmth into them. There it was again, that nickname, every time it rolled off his tongue it sent warmth straight to your core. 

“My dad doesn’t need to know what I would rather be doing on a Friday night, or rather who I would rather be doing.” You huffed.

“I wouldn’t go around proclaiming that sorta thing, especially round your pops. I’m sure he wouldn’t wanna hear how corrupt his good girl truly is.” Joel hummed, his finger tapping on his thigh as you began driving. 

‘Good girl’, it rolled off his tongue so effortlessly yet it sent sparks straight to your core, as you drove you shift in your seat and pressed your thighs together. 

“I — I uh, I’m an adult, Joel. I’m a fully grown woman, incase you haven’t noticed. I have needs and wants.” You argued, trying to remain confident in your words. 

“Needs… and wants, huh?” He laughed, raising an eyebrow at you. “Is that why I see you practically drooling every time you see me? Now would you say that’s a need or a want?” Joel asked, his voice low and sultry.

Your mouth dried up instantly, voice getting stuck in your throat as you tried to protest. “I — I do not.” You protested, your voice coming out as a mere squeak.

“Oh peach, I see the way you press your thighs together. So needy for me? Hmm.” He hummed, his hand reaching over to touch your bare thigh. “I’ve seen the way you shift in your seat when I spread my legs in the arm chair or when you catch a short glimpse of my bulge. I’ve seen it all, no need to hide it.” His fingers were barely touching you, ghost-like touches on your skin. It was a risky move, he knew that and he knew you could quite easily pull the car over, kick him out and tell your dad what he had done. It could ruin his only true, pure friendship if your dad found out. But Joel was also sure he had calculated this properly, he had seen you for the past couple years and your minuscule reactions only seemed to ramp up the older you had been getting. 

Your breath hitched harshly in your throat as you tried to concentrate on the road ahead of you but your mind was swimming with Joel once again, his fingers lightly traced patterns on your inner thigh and all you could do was whimper pathetically under his touch. 

“J-joel,” you whined. “Please don’t tease me, I’ll crash the fuckin’ car if you play like that.”

“Oh little girl, I’ve barely placed a hand on you and you’re already whimpering for me? Quite cute really.” He said, his voice seeming deeper than usual; he splayed his hand across the skin of your inner thigh and gripped it tightly. 

You forced your eyes open as you continued to drive, you weren’t sure if you were doing the speed limits or what, all you could think about was the large hand that was so close, yet not nearly close enough to where you needed it the most. You could feel how wet you were already, you had been a mess all evening but now you could physically feel your arousal collecting in your lace panties. 

“You reckon your ol’ man knows how needy you are for me? Your dad’s best friend. Oh peach, what a mess.” He continued, he had moved closer to you now, reaching over the centre console of your car, his breath fanning out over your neck. 

“J-Joel, I’m serious. I’ll crash if you carry on like that. Not funny.” You whined, trying to press your legs together again but feeling resistance in the form of Joel’s hand. 

“Tsk tsk tsk,” Joel tutted. “What are you trying to do there, darlin’?” He laughed, letting his pinky drift closer to your clothed cunt just barely brushing the fabric. 

You whined again, just a small noise from the back of your throat and pulled the car over, from what you could tell you were a few streets away from Joel’s house; the suburban area was dimly lit with few lights and no people walking around, especially not this late anyway. You pushed your car into park, turned off the lights and engine and looked at the older male for a moment, your lips wet and cheeks flushed. 

“Joel…” you started. “Y-you don’t have to do this, I know I’m not your type and I’m sure you’re just trying to play a bit of a joke on me. We should get you home and forget about all of this…” Your breath was shaky, you hoped to every god out there that Joel would continue but you wanted him to know he didn’t have to humour your silly feelings. 

“You don’t think I want this?” Joel asked, his face close to yours, hand still pressed teasingly to your thigh. “I’ve noticed recently, the way you react to me and tonight, w-when you were bent over. Took everything in me to not pull those little panties aside and bury myself deep in that little cunt right there in the middle of the street.” His voice sounded near animalistic as he finished that sentence and your cheeks burned a deep, cherry red as he finished speaking. 

“I didn’t mean to do that, didn’t really think.” You mumbled, looking past him to stare out the window. 

“Shh,” Joel hummed, he leant forward and placed a kiss to your lips with his hand still stroking soft patterns into your inner thigh. 

You sighed contentedly into the kiss, finally experiencing what you had craved for years, your hand snaked up to hold Joel’s face as you deepened the kiss; hungry to taste more of the man. Joel tasted like smoke faintly, salty from the foods you had eaten and there was the distinct taste of hops from the beer he had drank. Your fingers intertwined into his greying hair and you gave it a testing tug; Joel groaned and allowed his tongue to swipe across your bottom lip. Eagerly, you opened your mouth and urged the kiss to be deepened, taking as much of him in as you could in that moment. 

Joel saw this as his opportunity to advance his hand, he slipped his fingers under the hem of your skirt and let them stroke across the damp fabric of your panties. You whimpered into the kiss, your hips bucked forward searching for further contact. He couldn’t help but smile at how undone you were already. Joel teased his fingers across the waistband of the lace fabric of your panties, teasingly slow, just as you were about to pull away from the kiss and protest he allowed two fingers to slip into your wet folds and agonisingly slowly circle your swollen clit. 

“Fuck,” he growled lowly. “So fuckin’ wet for me already, darlin’?”

You nodded, gripping at Joel’s forearm as he started to rhythmically circle and play with your clit. He was right, you were near sopping as he slipped through your folds. 

“Wanted this for s-so long,” you whimpered. You couldn’t quite believe this was real, you were almost convinced you would wake up any moment, sprawled out on your bed with your fingers deep inside of yourself and not actually in your car, with Joel Miller’s fingers close to making you cum already. 

“Yeah?” Joel asked, his fingers speeding up. “Wanted to feel my fingers on your wet pussy, making you feel good? Huh? How does it feel to have my fingers finally in you?” Joel spoke, his voice a low huff as his fingers worked quickly. 

“So. Good.” You moaned, the noise low and breathy. “Feels so good. I’m going to cum. Please.”  

Joel groaned, he still couldn’t believe this was happening to him. Since you started maturing over the past couple of years he had thought so many times about how much he would love to corrupt you; to have his fingers, mouth and cock making you fall apart at the seams. Just anything to make you feel good. 

“That’s it, atta girl. Cum for me, good girl.” Joel whispered, his lips ghosting over your ear as he sunk a digit into you abruptly and let his palm bump up against your clit.

That was it, the white hot, searing heat in your stomach erupted and your eyes screwed themself shut so tight you saw white patterns dancing behind your eyelids. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip so hard the familiar metallic tang flooded your mouth, anything to stop you from alerting the neighbourhood with your screams. If that You that wasn’t just the best orgasm of your life, you would have been slightly embarrassed at quickly he had made you cum. 

Joel barely moved his finger in you, just circled it slightly but his palm nudged your clit as he worked your through your orgasm and it made you whimper loudly, your body flinching with over sensitivity. He took the hint and removed his hand from your wrecked panties and brought it up to his mouth, sucking his digits to clean them from your juices. 

“Taste so sweet, just like a peach.” He groaned, his fingers popping from his mouth, the noise startling you from your orgasmic comedown. There it was again, your nickname but now it just sounded sinful and you knew going forward, you wouldn’t be able to hear it without getting wet and embarrassed. 

When you finally regained some composure, you looked at Joel; your lips were swollen and red and your cheeks had a light flush settled on them. He smiled, thinking you were truly the most perfect sight he had ever seen. Your hand reached over to his lap, you had a hunger and needed to curb the insatiable need for his cock. Your small hand palmed him through his jeans, he was rock hard and fuck, he was big. You swallowed, almost nervously at the thought of his large cock stretching your tight hole out. Of course you had slept with people, you weren’t a virgin but your previous boyfriend was nowhere near that big and he definitely couldn’t make you come that hard, even on his best days. You gently squeezed at his length, stroking him through the rough fabric. 

“Not here, darlin’. How about we go back to mine so I can properly appreciate you?” He asked, and just as you opened your mouth to protest saying you wanted him right there and now he spoke once more. “I’ll drive, dunno if you can drive properly after that, little girl. I saw how hard you came on my fingers, now imagine how hard you could cum on my cock.”

Your whole body shuddered involuntarily, never in all your years of knowing Joel had you heard such filthy things from his mouth; he had always been the perfect Southern gentleman. You were soon pulled out of your thoughts by Joel opening your car door. 

“Shuffle over.” He commanded. 

You nodded dumbly and did as you were told. Joel swiftly started the car and continued the drive back to his, it barely took ten minutes but every minute felt like torture; your mouth watered at the thought of Joel filling your holes, using you how he pleased, your core ached with the need to be full of Joel again. 

Once the car was parked, Joel hopped out and was once again opening your door for you, you exited the car and grimaced at the cool air hitting your skin. You felt Joel’s hand on the small of your back, guiding you into his home, a place you had been hundred’s of times before but this time you felt nervous. 

He opened his front door for you and you walked in, just as you were about to turn and speak to the male he was holding your hips in his large hands and pressing your smaller frame against the wall. His lips were on yours and starting a bruising kiss, once again your hands found their way into his hair and you moaned softly. You wanted to be stuck like this forever, with his soft lips on yours and his rough facial hair scratching your skin slightly reminding you exactly who was kissing you. 

“Please don’t tease, I just want you so badly Joel. I have for years, b-been thinking about your cock filling me up for years.” You whined, sounding like a petulant child. 

“And I’ll be fillin’ you up real soon, sweet girl. But how about I make you feel good again, yeah? You think you can be good for me and cum again, I wanna truly taste how sweet you are, sugar.” He growled, his lips trailing rough kisses down your neck. God how he wished he could mark you up, head to toe, just so people would know you were all his.

Your knees buckled, and your body fell against Joel’s slightly, causing him to laugh breathily; no woman had ever reacted like that to him before, let alone just his words but then again, no woman was like you. He took you by the hand and led you up to his room, you couldn’t help but take in your surroundings, you had been in Joel’s room a couple times before but you had never noticed just how much it smelt like him. 

“How about we get you nice and comfortable, let’s get those clothes off you. Can’t wait to see your body.” He started by pushing your plaid shirt off your shoulders, throwing it over to the side; the heavy fabric landed with a dull thud onto his wooden floor and with that he swiftly removed your tank top. Somewhere along the way you had both kicked your shoes off but your brain was too murky to fully register it. 

Joel’s rough hands slid up your sides, he was drinking in every inch of your curves and soft skin; in the wake of his hands your skin was freckled with goosebumps. 

“So beautiful,” he breathed, a dim light casting beautiful shadows over his face. You felt embarrassed as his eyes fully drank in your form. “May I?” He asked, voice soft and smooth like honey, his hands were at the clasp of your bra and you simply nodded. It seemed like a trivial thing to ask permission for considering less than thirty minutes ago you were cumming around his fingers. 

He removed your bra, your perky breasts bounced ever so as the supportive fabric was gone. Your nipples hardened as the cool air hit them, pulling the sensitive skin tight. Joel could have devoured you whole, right there and then. His large, calloused hands came up to hold your breasts, his thumbs swiping over your nipples almost in a testing fashion. He did it again when it elicited a moan from your throat, he pinched the sensitive buds and your back arched towards him. 

“Joel, I can’t take it. Please.” You whined, his touches were entirely too much yet not enough all at once. It was your own form of perfect torture. 

The older male was loving this, watching your eager reactions as he toyed with your body, his cock was hard and leaking in his jeans and he couldn’t wait to be inside of you. 

“Be patient, darlin’. We have all night.” He smirked, slowly sinking to his knees in front of you. 

His rough hands begrudgingly left the peaks of your breasts and worked their way down to the zip of your tennis skirt, he unzipped the fabric causing it to fall to the floor. You took the cue and kicked it to side, out of the way. Joel’s fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties once more and slid them down your legs, you rested onto his shoulder and stepped out of them, just before you could kick them to the side, he was bunching them up and shoving them into his back pocket. 

This man — he would be the death of you, you just knew it. 

You were about to make a comment and protest but Joel was stood once again and gently pushing you back onto the bed behind you; you fell onto the plush mattress with ease, your thighs falling open without being asked to do so. You felt exposed, vulnerable but above all else, you felt needy. 

“Good girl, without even being told to lie like that. Such a beautiful girl.” He remarked, pulling his shirt over his head and slipping his jeans from his thick thighs. 

You rested up on your elbows to peer at Joel as he undressed and your throat tightened, all the air in the room seeming to have evaporated immediately. He was beautiful, all harsh lines to the outside world but in the glow of his bedroom now, he looked soft and warm. You were in deep, and you knew it meant deep trouble. 

He palmed himself through his boxers just to stave off some of the throbbing and your eyes followed eagerly, the thick outline of his cock making your walls clench around nothing. Wordlessly Joel knelt at the end of the bed, latched his hands onto your thighs and pulled you closer so you could feel his hot breath fanning over your sopping folds. Your hips bucked into thin air, nothing there to help you and he laughed, it was quiet and breathy but he definitely laughed — fucker.

Joel trailed two fingers through your folds, collecting your arousal on them once again and without warning he plunged them into you roughly. You gasped, your back arched off the bed and your fists balled into the sheets either side of yourself. His fingers were so thick, so much thicker than any man you had been with before; you weren’t sure whether that was down to the age difference or just Joel’s build. He slowly pumped his fingers in and out rhythmically, building speed and curling them so they brushed that perfect, sensitive spot inside of you. 

Your mouth was agape as you laid there, completely at his will, writhing under his relentless touch. Moan after moan, after moan spilled from your parted lips and just as you felt the tension tighten in your stomach Joel lapped his tongue of your clit. Your back arched and the filthiest moan escaped your mouth, you weren’t even sure how that noise had come from you but it had and it had Joel smirking as his tongue swiped through your folds again just to circle around your clit once more. 

Your hand laced its way into Joel’s hair, your fingers gripping the strands with a deathly vice and he groaned into your pussy causing vibrations to ripple through you. You weren’t sure how you were still holding on but your stomach was twisting, tightening and bubbling as your orgasm approached once again. 

“Mmm, good girl.” He praised as your walls clenched around his fingers as he continued to pump them into your wet heat. The room was filled with obscenely filthy noises; your moans echoed throughout the empty space as Joel slurped up your juices. 

“Joel —“ you sobbed, your back arching impossibly high off the mattress below you. “C-can I cum? Please. Need it.” You asked pathetically.

Why were you asking permission?

Never before had you felt so submissive for a partner in bed, never once had you asked permission to cum, no, normally you would be chasing your high, just trying to grasp at a fraction of how good Joel was making you feel. 

“That’s it baby, such a good girl for asking permission. Wanna make you feel as good as I can, peach.” He groaned in between pleasuring you. “Cum all over my face, wanna taste as much as I can.”

That was it, the coil in your stomach snapped abruptly and you were gushing onto Joel’s fingers, a pleasured scream tumbling from your lips. Never, not once had you squirted before, yet here you were, soaking the sheets beneath you and in turn, Joel’s beard and your own thighs. You would have felt ashamed if you didn’t feel such pure euphoria in the moment. Your back was twisted and contorted off the sheets as Joel worked you through it, making you squirt further.

He could have cum in his boxers, like a teenager as the first drops of your orgasm hit his face. He lapped up as much of you as he could, like a man who had been starved for years. And he had, he had been starved from allowing himself to have this moment with you and now he had you, he wanted to savour and devour you as much as you would allow him to. 

“Joel,” you whimpered, your thighs trapping his head. “C-can’t do it anymore!” You sounded wrecked, your throat felt raw from how loudly you had been moaning. 

Joel laughed, pushed your thighs apart and removed his fingers from you. You winced and your walls clenched around air, feeling so empty once again. 

“Please, p-please can I have you now?” You asked, positioning yourself on your knees in front of Joel. You reached your hand to feel his hard cock through his boxers once again and this time, he didn’t stop you. 

You abruptly pulled the checkered fabric from his waist and his boxers pooled at his feet; freeing his cock finally, it sprang up against his stomach and you all but moaned. 

“You’re so…” you whispered, looking up at Joel through your lashes as your small hand wrapped around his thick length. The tip was dark, a bead of pre-cum glistened at the slit and all you wanted was to taste it, to taste Joel’s musk. “You’re so big, fuck.” You cursed, your tongue sticking out to kitten lick at his tip. 

You wanted to sink your mouth down his length to fully take him in so your nose could bury into Joel’s thatch of dark hair but you resisted and gave him another lick, tongue flicking into his slit.

Joel groaned, a low and gruff noise from the back of his throat. “Fuck, darlin’, I gotta be in you. None of this.” He spoke lowly, his thumb coming down to swipe along your bottom lip and you quickly sucked it into his mouth. 

“Please, daddy.” You whispered, the honorific slipping from your throat before you could process it. A look of horror washed over your features and you knelt up higher to look Joel in the eyes. “I — I, — sorry. I didn’t mean —“

Your fumbling words were cut off when Joel placed his big hand around your throat and brought you in for a kiss. You were trouble, you were sinful and he was damned. He had been called daddy a few times by younger women, they thought it was sexy; the way they would flutter their lashes at him at the bar, saunter over to him and whisper ‘hey daddy.’ Normally it made his skin crawl and caused his body to cringe but the way it almost innocently slipped from your lips, it was like a curse from the devil himself and it made Joel’s cock jump, nudging your stomach. 

He squeezed his hand around your throat and you smiled? Trouble. Nothing but pure trouble. 

“Not such a good girl, after all, huh? Been acting all innocent all these years.” He whispered, his thumbs squeezing near your pulse point, hard enough to make your head feel lighter and floaty but soft enough not to hurt you deliberately. “God, what would your old man say about this? See his little girl begging to cum, see you squirting on his best friend’s face. Smiling as I wrap a hand round your throat. Your trouble, darlin’. Nothin’ but damn trouble.” He whispered, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip before peppering small nips to the flesh of your neck. 

Your legs trembled as they held you up, it was wrong but his words went straight to your core and soaked you further, you didn’t think your arousal could get higher but here you were. He was right though; your dad would be horrified, would be downright mortified to know what his daughter was truly like and at the hands of his best friend? That would destroy your lives. All three of you. You pushed that bitter thought away as your head lulled back and you allowed Joel to grope at your chest, hungry to feel your body once more. 

“Say it again,” he growled into your ear as he pushed your body back down onto the bed. “Call me it again as I fuck you real good. How ‘bout I show you what it’s like to have a real man fuck you, not some silly boy.” He said, his voice gruff whilst he stroked the tip of his cock through your folds. 

“Daddy,” you whimpered, parting your legs further to allow Joel more room to enter you. “Daddy please fuck me.” You begged, sounding weak. 

“Oh, of course, baby girl.” He cooed, pushing his cock into you roughly until he was bottomed out. “Fuck,” he cursed. 

“S-so big, daddy.” You whimpered, your hands grasping at Joel’s biceps, just trying to hold onto something as you adjusted to the slight burn of him stretching you out. “Mmm, please move.” You moaned. 

“Atta girl, taking daddy’s cock so good already.” Joel groaned and he swore that he saw heaven in that moment; your tight body below him, contorting to how he needed. He had already built up a punishing pace, hips drawing back to slam forward roughly. The room was filled with echoes of your skin slapping together, his deep pants and your wanton moans and weak, pleading whimpers. 

“I’ve wanted this for s’long,” you sobbed, your eyes falling shut as the tension built further in your stomach once more. You knew from this point forward you would be wrecked for any other man, no one would be able to make you feel this good. Not even close. “T-touched myself so many times thinking about you fucking me.” You admitted, the words falling without thought. “Want you to cum in me, wanna be full of just you, Joel.” You moaned. 

Joel was a goner, he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep this up for much longer, you were too tight, too wet and just too good for him to have any real stamina. Your admission didn’t help matters, either. The thought of you spread out on your own sheets, touching yourself to him?!

He gripped one of your hips tightly, hard enough to leave bruises on your delicate skin as he fucked into you harder with deep groans. “Can’t be saying that to me, peach. Gonna cum too quickly.” He hissed, his free hand snaking between you to trace circles around your clit. 

“I c-can’t do it again,” you stuttered, your body burning from the inside and out. “Too much.” You breathed, your sharp nails clawing at any bare skin you could find. Just anything to anchor you down as Joel pulled another orgasm from you. 

“I think you can. Hmm?” Joel spoke. “What you think? Wanna be a real good girl for daddy and give me one more?” His thumb sped up but his hips slowed to a sensual roll, his cock head bumping the electrified bundle of nerves deep in your walls. You clenched around him tightly and he moaned, louder than before. “That’s it, baby. That’s it. One more, come on now. Come on.” He groaned, working your clit faster. 

You whined, the noise stuck in your throat as your back arched once more and you clenched around Joel before gushing around him with a moan of his name. “Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel, J—.” Your eyes had rolled back, any further and they would have disappeared into the back of your skull.

“Such a good girl, fuck. So tight. That’s it, squirt on my cock.” He groaned, removing his hand from your clit to hold down both your hips as he fucked into you with more fervour. He wasn’t going to last long, but he also knew you couldn’t take much more. You were cock drunk and spent. “Gonna fill you up so. fuckin’. good.” He huffed, accentuating each word with a thrust. 

“Daddy,” you cried, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as your body went into overdrive. 

That was it, that’s all it took. Joel looked down at you, your were a mess and all from him, tears fell onto your cheeks as he finished inside of you with a groan of your name. “Shhh, that’s it sweet girl. Such a good girl.” He cooed, his hand cupping your cheek as he emptied himself into you. 

You moaned, feeling the hot liquid of his cum fill you up, your walls clenched weakly, just trying to milk him of every drop and you turned to kiss his hand. The room smelt of sex, the air was thick and hot and sleep called to you like a sweet song. 

Joel pulled out of you with a hiss and you whimpered, your body felt like there were a hundred tiny pin pricks on your skin. You were overstimulated and completely spent but ultimately, you were so happy. 

“Hmmm, m’sleepy.” You hummed contentedly.

“I know, sweet girl but can’t sleep here. The sheets are a mess. How about you have a rest in the spare room and I’ll go sleep on the couch?” He asked softly, brushing your sweat-dampened hair from your face. 

“Sorry about the sheets,” You giggled, eyes heavy-lidded and barely open. “Although, was kinda your fault. You’re a dirty old man, too good at that.” You teased, still giggling. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m going to hell.” He huffed, his voice all too serious. 

Joel scooped your naked body off his bed with a gruff noise and before you knew it, you were in another bed with the duvet wrapped around you. Joel had cleaned you up with a damp towel, dressed you in one of his shirts and wrapped you up into the sheets. 

“Stay with me,” you whispered as Joel turned to walk out, assuming you had already passed out for the night. “P-please stay with me.” You cried, tears filling your eyes. 

He smiled and obliged with no arguments. The mattress dipped beside you and he wrapped his large arms around your waist, pulling you close.

“Of course I’ll stay, peach.” He whispered and pressed a kiss to your temple.

You hummed sleepily, your eyes already closed and you felt peaceful. It was the most peaceful you had felt in a long time. Joel was there, you finally felt content and safe in his arms. You knew trouble was brewing on the horizon but right there, in that moment, you couldn’t find it in you to actually care.

Everything felt like it was too much, of course your fantasy came true but what did this mean for your futures? You only assumed it would be messy and all too hard on you both. 

You drifted off to sleep peacefully that night, the most peaceful you had been in far too long. Your senses screamed Joel and you felt safe. You knew trouble was brewing on the horizon but for now, you were content and happy.

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[joelmillersdumbslut]

Only bought this dress so you could take it off (joel miller x f!reader) 18+

summary: You spend your workdays pining over your favorite customer, Joel Miller, until he finally asks you out on a date. (no outbreak au. no use of y/n)

rating: 18+ explicit (minors do NOT interact)

warnings: age gap (reader is in early 20's, joel is early 40's), dirty talk, hand kink, pet names, reader is inexperienced, oral sex (f! and m! receiving), fingering, handjob, p in v sex, a little fluff at the end, basically smut with the tiniest bit of plot

word count: 3.3k

a/n: i just really wanted to write a smutty oneshot! hope you enjoy it ♡

ao3 link

Normally, when customers hit on you, you’re quick to shut them down.

“No, thanks, I have a boyfriend.”

“Sorry, I have night classes.”

“My parents won’t let me date until I’m 35.”

Or straight up, “No.”

But, when Joel Miller first walked into the coffee shop you work at, you couldn’t take your eyes off him. You had just finished steaming milk for a latte when your coworker rang him up at the register. You fumbled with the steel pitcher as Joel shot a glance your way, his brown eyes burrowing into you. The frothy milk burned the back of your hand, but it didn’t even compare to the burning you felt deep inside your abdomen.

For the next few weeks, Joel would chat you up at the pickup counter while you poured his coffee. He takes it black. No milk, no sugar, no bullshit. He’d ask you questions about the beans. Where they’re grown, how do you get them, what setting you grind them at for the best taste. All you could think about was the way his lips curled into a small smile after the first sip. Or how his fingers brushed against yours as you handed him his coffee. It felt wrong, sometimes immoral, to be so smitten with a man old enough to be your father. You couldn’t help but get doe-eyed every time he walked in through the door. Even your coworkers started teasing you, telling you Joel came in on your day off and asked for you. You’d brush it off and pretend it didn’t happen, but you secretly hoped that it did. You were dying to get to know him better, or at least find out more than just how he takes his coffee.

So, when he came in on a dreary Monday, looking a little pale and feverish, you asked him what was going on. He exhaled sharply through his nose as you let the coffee cascade from the brewer into the paper cup. But, his words were floundering in the sea of coffee shop noises and you couldn’t hear him well. You beckoned him to lean across the counter, cupping your ear. When his mouth grazed against your lobe, your belly ignited once again when you heard the words, “What I’m tryin’ to say is… would you wanna go out on a date with me?”

—

You’d never put out on the first date before. At least not until now. Joel Miller took you to see a movie, but you can’t remember what it was about. Probably because he had a firm grip on your thigh the entire time. His fingers slowly dragging their way up your leg as the movie played on the big screen. It’s a good thing you picked seats in the very back row where no one could see you leaning over to kiss him. It took him by surprise, but he welcomed it nonetheless. You placed your hand on his cheek, turning him towards you as you gently brushed your lips against his. He returned the favor, and soon enough his tongue was poking through your lips to meet your own. Just as you were about to reach for his belt buckle, the overhead lights came on and you both jolted back. You smoothing out your dress, Joel hiding the front of his jeans with a popcorn bucket. He held your hand all the way to the car, and even opened the door for you.

—

It was hard to resist a gentleman like Joel Miller. He walked you to your apartment door, lingering in the hallway while you pulled a set of keys out of your purse. He was about to bid you a good night, when something possessed you to mention, “You know, my roommate’s working the night shift. If you wanna come in.”

A slow smile creeped up on his face, “Whaddya have in mind?”

You could feel your cheeks burn, your eyes dropping to the floor. “I’m not that kind of girl,” your whisper almost inaudible, “I mean. Maybe I am. But, just for you. Because… I like you.”

Joel lifted your chin, his gaze meeting yours. “I like you too.”

Then he gestured towards the door, “I’ll come in. Stay a while.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you opened the door and his hand rested on the small of your back.

—

Joel Miller is hard to resist. Especially with the way his tongue grazed the inside of your thighs.

You led him to your room, locking the door behind you. A switch flipped, his eyes hungry, his pants tightening around his thighs. You stood together in your dimly lit bedroom, tongues colliding, hands groping in places you’d never let a stranger go before. It wasn’t long before you pulled away abruptly.

“I have to tell you something first,” you looked around nervously, and sat down on the edge of the bed. Joel’s expression softened, sitting down next to you, pulling your hand into his lap.

“I know it may not seem like it. But, I don’t really have much experience. So, you’ll have to… go slow with me. Maybe even teach me how to do certain things, I guess,” you admitted, absentmindedly picking at a loose thread on your dress hem with your free hand.

Joel brushed your hair out of your face, kissing your shoulder, and then your neck. “Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

A beat. Then he asked, “Have you… done it before?”

You could feel your face turn flush again as you looked at his hand holding yours. It’s so… huge. Calloused. You wondered if he’s a construction worker or some kind of laborer. You couldn’t remember if he’s ever mentioned his occupation. Then you wondered what it would be like to have those fingers inside you. Sliding in and out as he massages your favorite spot. You might soon find out.

You shook those thoughts from the forefront of your mind to answer his question, “I have. But, just a few times. I never really got anything out of it.”

Your words came with a sheepish inflection. But, Joel didn’t make you feel inadequate or insecure. Instead, he gently held your face, those rough hands against your soft skin.

“I’ll show you,” is all he said.

—

Joel Miller clouded your mind as you pulled your dress over your head, suddenly feeling embarrassed that today of all days you had chosen not to wear a bra. You were exposing your breasts to this man you hardly knew. A man old enough to have raised you. But, Joel didn’t seem to mind. He palmed his bulge through his jeans, watching you undress.

“Do you… Want me to take these off?” you asked, thumbing the waistband of your underwear.

He stepped closer to you, still touching himself through his clothes. “Not now. I’ll tell you when to take ‘em off,” he grunted. “Get on the bed.”

Fire began to burn inside your lower stomach. Maybe you were overthinking this, but Joel was definitely not like the guy you’d been with before. And you realized it was turning you on, Joel being so much older and taking control over you. What could you do to keep him that way? Your answer came swiftly, as you climbed onto the bed and laid down for him. All you needed to do was be obedient.

“What should I do now?” you asked, your breath faltering as he began taking off his pants.

A smirk danced across Joel’s face as he ignored your question, “You like watchin’ me?”

“Yes,” you answered quietly, your core burning hotter than a thousand suns.

After stripping down to his boxers, Joel laid down next to you, his hand firmly planted on your thigh.

“You thinkin’ ‘bout me earlier? At the movie theater?”

“Yes,” you began to melt, wondering if it was possible to explode from his touch alone.

“Good girl,” he cooed, his hand moving towards your underwear. He stopped at the fabric, his hand rubbing the outside. Your breath hitched and he chuckled. His fingers dipped inside, rubbing your clit. Then sliding down to your entrance. You gasped for air as he pulled away. It had been so long since you’d been touched like that, you nearly forgot what it felt like. In fact, it almost felt like nothing you’d ever felt before. You decided to allow this brand-new feeling to wash over you, as Joel nipped at your neck, leaving marks for the world to see.

“God, you’re so wet already,” he murmured. “That all for me?”

“Yes, Joel,” you whispered.

The smirk returned to his face as he crawled down the bed, “Take those off.”

You instantly did as you were told. An excitement brewed inside you, curious to see where this would go. Joel spread your legs apart, a whimper involuntarily leaving your throat as he examined you. He smiled again, shaking his head slightly.

“So pretty,” he grinned, looking up at you. “Anyone ever eat your pussy?”

“N-no. My ex wouldn’t do that,” you explained, suddenly ashamed by your lack of experience. That didn’t seem to deter the older man though. If anything, it fueled his ego even more.

“Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll make you feel better than that kid ever did.”

—

And you soon learned Joel Miller kept his word.

He began licking you gently, starting at your clit. It took you by surprise, how something you’ve never experienced could feel so fucking good. His tongue shifted up and down, making you moan. Instinctively, you covered your mouth so your neighbors, or even worse, your soon-to-arrive-home roommate, wouldn’t be able to hear you, but Joel reached up to pull your arm away.

“I want everyone in this building to hear you, baby.” He started sucking on your clit, making you whimper even louder. “That’s it, make some noise for me.”

He picked up the pace, your body tensing up, the pleasure coursing through your veins. You began to wonder if you could cum simply from his mouth alone, but soon his fingertips were tracing your hole.

“Please tell me your boyfriend at least fingered you,” Joel teased, dipping inside of you gingerly. You wanted him so badly, but you forgot how to use your words. This seemed to amuse Joel, as he continued to trace the outline with his fingertips.

“Yes,” you stifled another moan, “B-but, he never got me off.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that with me, sweetheart, I’m gonna make you cum as hard and as often as I can,” Joel slowly inserted a finger, making you inhale deeply. “That feel okay? Need at least two, maybe three to get you ready for me.”

Hard? Often? Three fingers?! Before you could even begin to process his arrogance, Joel quickly worked his magic, curling his finger inside you. He easily added another one for good measure, your vision going blurry from the satisfaction you were receiving.

“Fuck,” you exclaimed, feeling the wave rising up inside you immediately. You realized it wasn’t arrogance after all. He truly knew what he was doing to you. And he was doing it well. “Joel, I-I think you’re gonna make me cum already.”

“That’s okay, baby, cum all over me,” he murmured and resumed sucking on your clit. And soon enough, your hips convulsed, legs shaking as Joel rode the high with you. He slowed down as you returned to Earth, glancing up at you with a twinkle in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you nervously blurted out, “I don’t usually get off that fast.”

His hand reached for yours as he repositioned himself on the mattress, kneeling at your side. “No need to apologize, darlin’. Besides, you’re so pretty when you cum.” He leaned down to kiss you lightly, and you realized his boxers were still on. His cock straining against the fabric. You looked up at him expectantly, biting your lip.

“Alright, sweetheart. Your turn to make me feel good now,” he brought your hand to his waistband. “Take these off,” he growled, the hunger returning to his brown eyes.

You quickly got to work, helping Joel remove what little was left of his clothing. The sight of his cock made your eyes widen. You could feel the wetness dripping down your thighs at the mere thought of what it’d feel like to have him pumping inside you.

You don’t have to imagine that for long though, as Joel’s southern drawl snapped you back to reality. “Touch me,” he ordered, on his knees again next to you. “Show me what you can do.”

Your hand wrapped around his cock. Starting at the base, you moved upward slowly. You kept glancing at Joel to gauge his enjoyment, or worse, any potential displeasure. But, you didn’t need to worry about that. The room was filled with his grunts and moans. You wanted to impress him, so as your hand travelled back up again and your thumb grazed his slit, gathering precum, making the slide back down his shaft even easier.

“Think you were lyin’ to me, darlin’. You know exactly what you’re doin’,” Joel groaned, a sly smile spreading across his face. “Why don’t you try takin’ me in your mouth?”

A fire roared deep within your belly again as you sat up a little straighter. You leaned over with your mouth agape, beginning to suck the tip of his cock. Joel’s whimper startled you, but the sounds of pleasure encouraged you to take more of him. Or as much as you could. He was bigger than you had imagined. Spit dribbled down your chin as Joel reached the back of your throat. You peered up at him as he took a handful of your hair, guiding you as he gently fucked your mouth.

“You look so pretty with your lips wrapped around my cock,” he sighed, “Are you ready for me, baby?”

You nodded, maybe a little too eagerly. It made Joel chuckle as he pushed you back onto the bed, spreading your legs far apart. Holding his cock, he lined up to your entrance, stroking the tip up and down against your pussy. A guttural moan erupted from inside you at the feeling. The primal feeling of needing him inside you now.

“This might hurt,” he whispered, “But, I know you can take my cock.”

His words rang through your ears, making you lightheaded and dripping wet. You nodded slowly and the fire burned even brighter, your eyes meeting his.

Joel stroked himself again as he propped your legs up, “Gonna go nice and slow for you. Just relax and let me make you feel good.”

His fingers dipped inside you again as his other hand wrapped around his cock. He rubbed against your sweet spot, the pressure beginning to build again already.

“Tell me when you’re ready, baby.”

“I’m ready,” you whispered.

—

You couldn’t believe it. After weeks of pining and longing for your favorite customer, Joel Miller, he was finally inside you.

It hurt at first, your body could only manage to take the tip. Guess he was right about needing three fingers. You initially cried out at the strange mix of pleasure and pain. Joel was quick to kiss you, holding you tenderly until you were ready to try again. The second time was the charm. He penetrated you slowly as he grabbed your hand. He placed it over your clit, helping you move in small circles. The bliss radiated throughout your body as Joel continued to enter you until his length went as far as it could go without hurting you any more.

“Knew you could take my cock,” he purred, “Good girl.”

He pumped slowly and deeply, managing to be careful enough not to hit any areas that might hurt you again. “This good, baby? Wanna hear you.”

Joel could hear you alright. You kept rubbing your clit and with each thrust, he hit your G-spot. It was the perfect combination, something you didn’t know could possibly exist. You just knew your sheets were going to be soaked, if they weren’t already.

“If you keep doing this, I’m gonna cum again,” the whine slipped off your lips.

He chuckled, his pace quickening. “Good. Need to get you there a couple more times before it’s my turn. Cum for me.”

And the pressure inside you released and you exploded all over his cock, your cum streaming down the insides of your thighs.

Joel laughed, slowing down to fix your hair. “How was that, baby?”

Your lips quivered as you nodded frantically, practically begging him for more. The sex with your ex-boyfriend completely paled in comparison to this session with Joel. You were starting to hope maybe it could become a regular thing. Maybe Joel could keep showing you the nooks and crannies you didn’t know existed within your body.

Before you had the chance to ask, Joel pulled you up into a sitting position, laying next to you on his back.

“Ever ride before? Think you’ll like it,” he winked, gesturing for you to get on top of him.

You crawled onto his lap, his cock swaying before you. You stared down at him, your legs on either side of his hips, still shaking from your last orgasm.

“Don’t get shy on me now, sweetheart. You need my help?”

You nodded, feeling a little self-conscious. Despite being prone, Joel lifted you up, guiding his cock back inside you. Your eyes widened as it hit new places you had never discovered before. You began to resent your ex a little for being a shitty lover. But, Joel pulled you back into the real world with his honeyed words.

“You’re the one in control, baby. Move the way that feels good,” he encouraged you, setting his hands on your hips.

You began to experiment, rolling your body back and forth slowly. You quickly found a rhythm that worked best for both of you, your moans bouncing off Joel’s sighs. His hand moved forward, thumbing your clit while you rocked your hips. You could feel another orgasm building inside your core, but you slowed down in an attempt to last longer. Joel, of course, noticed.

“You can cum, baby, I don’t mind.”

“But-“

“But, what?”

“I wanna cum with you.”

His eyes sparkled, and he started rubbing your clit faster.

“Wanna cum with me? Say it.”

“I wanna cum with you,” you repeated, tears welling at the corners of your eyes, the stimulation becoming overpowering.

“Say it again, darlin’.”

You couldn’t take it anymore, you were so desperate to feel your release.

“I wanna cum with you.”

And as soon as your words hit the air, your orgasm toppled over you, screams erupting from your throat. Joel followed suit, muttering incoherent nonsense, but the few words you could catch amidst the chaos were, “good girl.” Your hands rested on the headboard as you leaned over Joel, panting like you just finished a marathon. Well, you supposed you kind of did. Glancing at the clock, it had been three hours since you brought him back to your room. In the past, it was usually three minutes.

You lowered yourself back onto the bed, curling up in the crook of Joel’s arm. His scruff brushed against your cheek as he kissed you.

“How was that, baby? You learn anything?”

You giggled, still mesmerized by his touch. And his cock. “I was hoping maybe you could teach me more,” you admitted, taking his hand in yours.

Joel chuckled before kissing you again. “I’ll teach you everything, baby.”

—

[crushmeeren]

♡ Master List Link

♡ Gojo / Fem Reader

♡ Warnings; age gap (you’re 24, Gojo is 40), major daddy kink, praise kink, vaginal sex, anal sex,

♡ Note; God, I hate myself for writing this. Alas, I couldn’t help it. It’s probably about 1000 ish words? It’s an AU where Gojo is the definition of a single DILF and you’re his new babysitter.

When you first got recommended to babysit for Gojo Satoru, you thought nothing of it. You needed the money and you had a great track record with other families and there was no obvious reason to decline. Plus, you’d heard nothing but good things about the man in the circle of moms, but you’d never met him yourself.

You never paid attention to the gossip of how beautiful he is, brushing it off as exaggeration of bored housewives and truthfully it didn’t matter to you either way. The only thing that felt a smidge out of place was being informed that Gojo is a single dad.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that inherently,you just routinely deal with the mothers. Whatever, no skin off your back, it’d be fine. A decent change of pace.

To your immense satisfaction, it was. It is. Gojo has the most wonderful four year old little boy, Megumi. You love that kid as if he’s your own and he adores you.

However, the moms were clearly not being dramatic. Gojo is, to your disdain, angelic. The way his snow white hair frames his face, how his eyes are as crystal blue as the ocean and not to mention he’s tall as a mountain. To put it plainly, you were fucked.

You weren’t surprised when your thoughts abruptly turned down a sexual path. Hell, he’s a DILF if there ever was one. You couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty, you’re not here to lust after your boss, this is your job.

You used every fiber of your being, every ounce of willpower to try and squash those thoughts and lock them away never to see daylight again.

Nevertheless you couldn’t get used to his god like stature. You’re embarrassed to admit it was made infinitely worse by the fact that he’s pushing forty, and you’re only twenty four.

When you gained that piece of helpful knowledge, your stomach burned. You weren’t able to meet his eyes for a week.

It’s not your fault you have a fucking daddy kink.

And so, after almost a year of your pathetic, overwhelming pining for the man, your heart dropped to your stomach when you found out Gojo harbored similar fantasies for you.

He had invited you stay late one night after Megumi had gone to sleep. He told you he wanted to watch a movie, drink some wine and relax. You had agreed because you’re well past the point of friends now and it was the weekend, so what would be the harm?

The two of you had drank enough wine to loosen your lips. It wasn’t enough to become sloppy, but it was just the right amount for the lines of what’s appropriate to blur. So much so that you started calling him Satoru and flushing every time you did.

It was enough for Satoru to drunkenly admit he’s been lusting after you for months. For him to almost forget he was telling his deep dark secret to the person it conveniently was about.

You sat side by side on his fluffly couch, thighs pressed together. Your head got fuzzy and his was the same. Satoru had his let his head drop onto the backrest with a thunk, pretty eyes closed off from the world while you admired how sinfully long and lean his legs really were.

“I’m a terrible person,” he mumbled out of nowhere, brows pinching as he kept his eyes shut. You hummed in question, focusing intently on his snowy eyelashes. “I think, no I know I have feelings for you. I should feel guiltier than I do for wanting to have sex with someone so much younger than me, but I don’t,” he said with an airy sigh, shifting his head and snapping his eyes open to gaze at you.

Warmth instantly curled in your lower belly and your eyebrows shot up to your hairline. An involuntary flash of arousal blistered through your limbs and left you to unsubtly clench your thighs.

It was too easy to admit that you felt the same way, to admit you had touched yourself thinking about him. Your body went white hot when Satoru leaned in too close. You’d turned your gaze away and Satoru giggled at the shy action.

“You’re so cute!” He gushed. “Don’t worry baby girl, I stroke my cock daydreaming about how your pussy would feel around me. About how much I could show you. I bet you don’t have that much experience do you sweetheart?” Satoru taunted, wolfish grin on his lips.

You shook your head no, shifting your weight when he trailed the soft pads of his fingers over the sensitive crease of your elbow and tickled the underside of your bicep. The heady tension between you became unbearable.

You’re not sure who leaned in first for the kiss, you’re only aware that now you’re occupying Satoru’s bed, wine long forgotten. You’ve both lost your clothes along the way and you’re tangled in his blankets.

Satoru presses a large, sweaty hand over your mouth to try and keep your whines at bay as you desperately try not to wake up Megumi while Satoru urges you to ride his cock.

Satoru reclines on the headboard, keeping his knees bent and feet planted so his thighs act as a cradle for you to rock against.

The jerk is making you put in the work for your third orgasm, thighs burning as you chase your high. He was eating your pussy not even five minutes ago and now you’re bouncing in his lap.

Satoru starts to trail his free hand down your spine, following the knobs of bone down to the crease of your ass.

A startled cry of his name presses into his palm when he gently pushes the pad of his pointer finger against the pink, taught skin of your asshole. The unfamiliar sensation causes your movements to falter.

Satoru’s eyes light up, as if he’s just tried a new sweet and loved it. He tilts his head at your reaction, shaking it condescendingly, tsking at you when you stop moving.

“That’s not the right name, is it princess?” He teases, applying more pressure to your rim. Your eyes flutter shut and you shake your head no, a low moan escaping you. “Tell me what it is,” he demands, blue eyes piercing as he removes his hand from your mouth so you can answer.

“Daddy,” you murmur, nails biting into his shoulders while he continues to loosen the ring of muscle. You’ve come to a stand still in his lap, unused to having your ass played with.

“That’s it, what a good girl for daddy,” Satoru purrs. “Say babygirl, has anyone ever fucked your ass?” He muses, raising one eyebrow and biting the tip of his tongue.

“No daddy.”

His cock twitches in response.

“You gonna let daddy be the first one?” He presses harder on your rim, the tip of his finger sinking in. You yelp, tensing slightly. “I swear daddy will make you cum like you wouldn’t believe.”

You’re quite anxious about the pain, but ultimately you trust Satoru. You nod your head, happy to give him this first. He grins as if he’s going to eat you alive, the hand not in your ass squeezing your waist harshly.

Quickly Satoru helps you out of his lap, manhandling you until your cheek rests on the sheets and your ass is in the air. Satoru steps off the bed to grab lube from nearby.

Your belly fills with butterflies, pussy clenching when you admire the way he moves. He’s tall, lean, and gut wrenchingly beautiful.

He’s looming behind you before you can even register it, rubbing your lower back comfortingly as he delicately slips one lubed finger past the tight ring of muscle.

Your breath hitches, fingers curling around the sheets shakily. It’s uncomfortable and Satoru soothes you with encouraging words.

“Shh, it’s okay baby girl, I promise it’s going to get so much better.” He pumps his finger in and out until you relax. You take a deep, steadying breath, releasing it as Satoru eases his middle finger in alongside the first, all the way to his knuckle.

“Daddy!” You cry out, forgetting to be quiet. The stretch is overwhelming, a terrible mixture of a dull ache and barely there pleasure.

Satoru bends over your back, tangling his fingers in your hair and shoving your face into the mattress.

“Hush,” he admonishes you, scissoring his fingers in a warning. You nod quietly, close to sobbing into the mattress below. He hums in approval, releasing your hair as you keep yourself muzzled.

You don’t even notice the third finger and after a few minutes of stretching your rim to his satisfaction, the pleasure starts to drown out the pain.

You protest when he finally decides to pull his fingers out, the empty sensation almost unbearable now. Satoru chuckles, lining himself up.

“Don’t tell me you’re whining now, after all that complaining you did?” He teases, rubbing his tip over your soft, warm skin. You fold your arms under your head, resting there and ignoring him.

It doesn’t phase Satoru. He grips the base of his shaft and applies increasing pressure until the tip pops past your rim. The initial sharp sting makes you tense up, before relaxing as it fades to a dull ache.

Satoru produces a twisted version of a whine, carving a space in your ass until his curly white pubic hair brushes your skin.

“Okay?” Satoru asks, panting lightly and petting your lower back, straining with the effort to stay still.

“I’m okay,” you reassure him, even if you’re not completely sure you are. You start to clench rhythmically around the thick cock splitting you, involuntarily trying to get him out of you.

Satoru sucks in a breath through his teeth. He’s lightheaded from the pleasure, feeling like all the blood in his body is currently in his cock.

Satoru holds your hips, starting with a teasing backwards pull until only his tip remains. He smoothly pushes all the way in and repeats that steady motion until it suddenly clicks in your mind.

The pleasure from anal sex is divine, absolutely brain melting as he rocks his hips back and forth, creating a smoother, faster paced rhythm. It’s intense, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before.

A warmth burns violently behind your navel, as if you’ve never felt pleasurebefore. It’s so fucking good, you immediately know you’ll be addicted to it.

“Daddy,” you can’t help but moan. You’re still attempting to be quiet, but it’s proving impossible. You want Satoru’s attention.

“What baby?” He asks breathlessly. He moans as he watches his cock disappear into your puffy rim while he waits for your answer.

“I’m gonna cum,” you warn him, stifling your moans into the sheets as they increase in volume. Satoru laughs meanly behind you, but he thrusts harder at your words.

“Already?” He questions incredulously. “That was fast.” He sounds smug, tilting his hips so he’s hitting your g-spot through the thin wall separating him from your pussy.

Your pulse thunders in your ears, going silent as your orgasm shakes you to your core. The blood in your veins thrums at a dizzying pace. You feel all the thoughts in your head fizzle out to pinpoint on the pleasure as Satoru fucks you through it.

“Oh god. Yes, fuck — just like that,” Satoru snarls through clenched teeth, spanking you harshly.

Your thighs start to shake when Satoru doesn’t let up in his pace, but you’re starting to float down from your highand you’re getting overstimulated.

“Satoru,” you gasp, trying not to scream as he chases his own orgasm. “I can’t take much more,” you plead, trying to move forward. He just giggles, gripping your hips and pulling you back into his thrusts, he knows you don’t mean it.

“Just a little longer princess,” he coos, voice wrecked. You nod, taking deep breaths that rattle your chest.

Satoru throws all his weight into the next few thrusts, forcing a wail out of you that neither of you pay any mind to.

“Fuck fuck fuck, you’re gonna make me cum,” Satoru whines, yanking his cock out of you, causing your rim to clench painfully around air.

He fists his cock twice before he lets out a strangled sound. You feel the long ribbons of warm cum all over your back, some even reaching up to your shoulder blades.

Satoru lets go of his cock and sits back on his heels, breathing heavily as he calms his heart rate. He reaches forward and tugs your legs out from under you so you can collapse onto your belly.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt so satiated in your life. Every inch of you feels like jello.

Neither of you speak for a moment, soaking up the silence as you collect your thoughts. You still can’t breathe yet.

Eventually, Satoru pats your ass twice before rising and hunting down a damp wash cloth to clean you with. You lay there limp as he wipes away the mess he made of you.

He pokes your rib playfully when you don’t move a muscle. Twitching, you open one eye to look at him.

“Did I fuck your brains out?” He teases, giggling. You hum in affirmation, nodding your head. He laughs out loud this time, head tilting backwards.

A soft knock on Satoru’s door makes the two of you jump two feet off the bed. Your heart skips a beat as you raise up to sit on your knees.

“Daddy?” Megumi’s tiny voice calls out softly. “Are you in there?” You and Satoru share a panicked look. Thank God you locked the door.

“What is it my love? Are you okay?” Satoru calls out fondly. You’re shocked he’s able to keep a steady voice.

“Come lay with me daddy, I had a bad dream,” Megumi whines, little sniffles coming through the door. His sad voice makes your heart squeezes in your chest. Satoru’s eyebrows scrunch in concern.

“I’m sorry you had a bad dream Gumi, I’ll be there in a second to lay with you bubba, go lay back down,” Satoru soothes.

“Mkay.” Megumi’s soft footsteps fade away as he returns to his room. Satoru looks at you guiltily, but you give him a sweet smile.

“Go, it’s okay. Poor Gumi, I hope we didn’t wake him,” you whisper. Satoru gazes at you as if he’s in love, leaning forward and kissing your forehead.

“I’ll be back, then we have to discuss how to tell Megumi we’re dating tomorrow. He’s gonna be surprised to see you so early.” Satoru pulls on a pair of loose sweats as he speaks, heading towards his door.

Something warm and sweet settles in your heart knowing that Satoru already assumes you’re dating. Not as if you have any complaints about that.

You watch the door shut behind him and you shift around, pulling on the t-shirt Satoru was wearing. You snuggle up under his sheets and promptly pass out.

You sleep peacefully knowing Satoru will return soon to wrap you up and hold you tight.

[savnofilter]

Fight For It | dabi/t. touya

      Fantasy AU!Dabi x Bounty Hunter![FEM]Reader

WARNING(S): sexual content, dragon hybrid!dabi, reader’s intentions for “hunting” is nothing but dubious, ego friendly fire, predator vs. prey trope, power play, barely any plot (pwp), anal, double penetration, spanking, corruption kink (?), outdoors sex, strangers -> ?.

COUNT: 4.6k words (40 mins.)

READ MORE: masterlist + [adults masterlists]

A/N: this was originally supposed to be for another character but it very much suited Dabi instead. if you can guess who this was originally for, i'll write you sum neet. 🌚 anywhom, i loveddd writing this. i had to do a lot of work shops as this has been in the vault for years, so hopefully it's readable now LOL. 😭 hope you guys enjoy!

You check your sides and pockets ensuring that everything is ready for your travel.

This time around, dragon shifters were out and about looking for mates which meant this was the perfect time to capture one. You let out an excited breath as you pull on your boots and make your way outside of your home.

As you pass by the people in your town, you are frequently greeted due to your known status in the town. Most people jumped at the chance to have a conversation with you as there was no guarantee the next time they could. However as you got closer to the edge of the woods, the greetings slowed to a halt as the count of people started to wither out, most people avoiding the edges of the village near the forest-filled mountains. You adjust the final strap on your bag as the destination you were looking for comes into view.

Keeping an eye out for any signs of dragon shifter life, you look around the sparse but large trees that decorate the place. Many bushes, trees, and even small ponds adorned the scenery. If you happen to look close enough you could find flowers almost everywhere accompanying the organisms. Dirt and soil were also as common to come across, more so than grass in the dense part of the forest. Despite that, you continue on your quest to obtain your own little dragon. Your eyes light up as you near the bottom of the mountains and see a bigger-than-usual footstep on the floor. As if you are in no rush, you pause for a moment to squat down and pinch the dirt, fingers thumbing the soil between your forefinger and thumb before dusting it off on your pants.

One is near.

The footprint imprinted into the ground was still very fresh, the consistency too easy to grab and toy with. Surveying the scene your eyes try to find any change within the area, the need for staying on your p’s and q’s is greater than ever. You were trying to gauge what your next move should be and your indecisiveness slowing you down. You chew the inside of your lip as you start to survey the scene one last time before choosing to continue on your journey for the beast you were searching for.

Thankfully, the hybrid you were trying to find had left its footprints freely, but his marking already too cocky for your liking. Amid your busy thinking, you hear scurrying in the distance, the sound quick and heavy. You immediately whip your head around to the sound of the commotion, your hand hovering on the tip of your sword’s handle as you brace yourself for any imminent conflict. As you inch closer to the ominous spot behind the dense trees, the same noise happens in the opposite direction to the right of you. You swiftly unwield your sword and dart it towards the rapid movement, the sharp blade releasing a sharp and heavy, ‘THUNK’ as it sinks its metal into the wood.

Birds rapidly fly away in fear and other smaller animals in hiding run away in the opposite direction hoping to avoid the building tension within the vicinity. The sight of tiny strands of fur and a red liquid left swiftly in the breeze makes you wince in sympathy; accidentally hurting an unattended target was certainly not on your to-do list today. Your body is still on high alert--chest heaving as small beads of sweat accumulate on your temples, your nerves keeping you in a tense state. But unlike your anxious mood irritating you, your target was the complete opposite.

A low rumble of laughter that turns into a boisterous level prompts you to turn around and narrow your eyes at the location of the sound, eyes catching a white-haired male. You were gearing up to tell the male to fuck off before the realization hits you. The sharp teeth, horns, broad back, wild clothes -- this was the dragon you were trying to find. You watched him cautiously, keeping your eye on him as you retrieved your weapon, keeping on guard.

He lets out a few more chuckles, putting his hands up in mock surrender as he watches you point your sword toward him. “Hey no need to get defensive,” he pauses, his grin turning from playful to sly. “You humans aren’t the best at catching us most of the time.”

His words make you huff, your other hand locking on the rope that was on your hip. The white-haired male blows out a whistle, watching as your arm flexes with strong muscles and places his hands on his hips as he scans your body. You raise your brow, sheathing your sword away and revealing a grin of your own. You cross your arms over your chest and tilt your head to the side lean forward interest for the conceited specimen.

“I always catch my prey. What makes you think I won’t this time?” You respond, your words cocky, a little too much for his liking at that. His nose flares at you, back straightening before his irises narrow before he scoffs lightly.

The male’s cerulean eyes dim as they watch you intently, unashamedly checking out your frame. Your nostrils flare in anger and slowly draw your sword as a warning, a playful whistle following your threatening posture. The white-haired dragon-man takes a step closer to you, his gaze not missing you step back and cower only just slightly in your stance.

He huffs, “You could barely kill that bunny.”

“I could if I wanted to,” You’re quick to retort, your body now trying to regain its firm stance, chin raising as you openly detested him. “Just like I could have your head by tomorrow if needed.”

The same laugh that first gained your attention makes a comeback, his sharp teeth on proud display as he takes this exchange as nothing more than some flirtatious banter. “How about the next time we meet, you can attempt to catch me -- and if you do, I’ll do whatever you want. Vice versa.” He holds his hand out for you to take as a sign of agreement.

You watch his large hand out stretch itself to you, a taunting offer that a part of you couldn’t proudly admit that you wanted to take. His palm is upturned in a way that teased innocent compliance, the callous on his skin showing he isn't as playful as one would think and there's no missing the sharp nails that peek from under fingertips. With a small huff, your hand relaxes from the top of the sword and you close the distance between you two, shaking his hand firmly.

“The name’s Dabi by the way.” A surprised yelp escapes your lips as he tugs you much closer than needed, you two chest-to-chest as he stares intently into your E/C eyes. “Don’t be too disappointed when you lose, Y/N.”

Your eyes widen as he says your name, the action doing its job spooking you. You rip your hand away from his with a bit of a fight, not sure what you just have gotten yourself into. You snarl as you step back to regain the space between you two, except you made no move to be on the offense.

“Do yourself a favor and don’t hold back.” Dabi taunts, his grin matching his arrogant expression.

“Don’t plan on it.” You snort giving him one last look over as he retreats from the trees, your gaze never leaving that spot until you’re sure he’s gone. You turn around and pursue your way back to town, unbeknownst to you the pair of cerulean eyes that continued to watch your body retreat in pure animalistic hunger for you.

                     — ✮ ★ ☆ —

Adrenaline pumps through your veins as you tirelessly think about the interaction with the arrogant male from last afternoon.

Despite being one of the most known bounty catchers in the world, the way that he—Dabi as he preferred to be called—carried himself, was in a way that left curiosity and a bit of attraction on your end. You hated the way that your chest races with excitement but then glower at the thought of him. Too many conflicting emotions plagued your psyche and you needed to end this once and for all.

The air was crisp whilst the white clouds in the sky rivaled the short puffs of air you breathed out every once in a while if you held your breath in for too long. Climbing back up the same mountain wasn’t as easy as it was yesterday with the added titillation making it feel as though your heart was about to burst out of your chest. At this point, you were starting to wonder what you truly wanted from this outcome.

‘victory. this isn’t the first attractive specimen you’ll find, and it won’t be your last.’

You thought to yourself and sigh with indignation. The designated spot was already in eyeshot and you needed to get into gear if you wanted to walk out of this with your proper title over him as his owner. Absentmindedly your hand skims over the healing wound of the tree you had accidentally sliced when you had gotten startled yester-yonder, the heavy and big footprints in the soil showing that he as well made his way over not long before you.

Movement just shy to your left has you turning in its direction, this only meaning one thing: Dabi was here.

Dabi sat minding his business, humming as he watched his surroundings and toyed with the dirt in front of him mindlessly. You unsheath your sword, adrenaline making your hands lightly tremble in excitement. You adjust the sword easily in your hand moving to swing for the kill. Subtle movement catches the corner of your eyes, the focus of your target just slipping. Before it could happen, you reel back and lunge your sword towards the correct target only to softly gasp as he's gone.

You pull your sword back with the rope that’s attached to the handle, the weapon tight in your grip as you look around closely as you make eye contact with his now familiar cerulean-blue eyes making you attack once again. It wasn’t until your second failed attempt that he started laughing at you. Just like the first time you met. You growl out in frustration, trying to find him again. You try following the laugh as you messily turn around, the uncoordinated movement making you trip over your own feet but you quickly catch yourself.

‘i bet he’s just scared! he knows that you’d just capture him and make him yours.’ you completely lie to yourself to help soothe your nerves. Even you didn't believe it and now you were starting to get more than anxious.

“Damn it! Come out and stop playing!” You yell out, rage starting to finally consume you. You kept your sword up, turning sharply at the sound of crunching behind you and was met with him not too far away from you.

His handsome face was serious, arms crossed as he watched down at you unimpressed and unmoving. You feel yourself wanting to shy away from his intimidating gaze, but remember to hold up your guard. Never had you experienced a dragon that fought back like this and it honestly had you on edge.

“You’re off your game,” The dragon grins as he steps closer towards you. You tilt your chin down as you cowardly gulp in defiance, your feet taking a step back as you try to gain more distance between you two. Unfortunately for you, fighting in the woods meant you would be caged in, just like now as he closed in on you as your back hit the large oak tree behind you.

“I can still kill you if I please.” You sneer, holding up the sharp tip of your sword to his chest, eyes boring into his. Even with your strong stance and unwavering eyes, there was no denying the slight waver in your voice as you said it.

Shit.

The dragon laughs at your pathetic threat, his body language as genuine as his prideful body language. He offers you no answer as he finds no reason to entertain it. Anger shoots through your body at his arrogance, your body shifting as much as it can to pull your arm back to aim straight for his heart, wanting nothing else but to draw blood from him right in this instant.

Your sense of urgency is what fumbles your opportunity, your attack seized as though he had seen it a mile away.

With a piercing grip, he snatches your hand as you attempt to stab him in the chest, his deft fingers squeezing your wrist in a painful grip. A cry leaves your lips as you try to keep steady, your other hand grabbing him to let go as if his life wasn’t on the line.

“Let go!” You yell at him, stubborn tears now starting to prick at your eyes. It was pitiful in the way you resorted to this as your backup plan, your behavior a clear indication that you had no idea what to do. You had walked into this duel with nothing but adrenaline, curiosity, arousal, and arrogance. Instead of conducting yourself as a seasoned veteran, you were presenting yourself as a spoiled brat. Dabi ignores your plea as he takes your fighting hand and pins it firmly against the rough tree bark behind you, the rough texture digging into your clothes and skin. You bite your lip harshly to at least spare yourself some dignity, not wanting to let the smallest amount of pain get to you.

Your hand twitches in his hold as your other goes towards the direction of your thigh and grab a small knife from its holster before promptly slicing his arm. Dabi looks down at you and scoffs as he barely observes the wound before easily gripping your free wrist once again. You let out a silent cry of protest as now both hands are caught in his stronghold.

“You think that was enough to stop me? You’ve already failed, human.” He leans down to speak in your ear, his strong voice rattling through your body making you shiver. He maneuvers his hold on your wrists so that they are caught in one hand, the other moving to grip your side before running lower and rounding your back.

You glare at him and start to struggle against his hold, hoping it wasn’t too obvious that you wanted him to touch more of you. He chuckles at your sounds of distaste, promising that you’d be dead if he moved any further. He bites down on the exposed part of your neck making you moan in pain and a deep blush adorn your cheeks. His slivering hand finally grabs your ass and pulls your body closer to his. He pulls away from your neck to give himself enough room to lick up the blood that was dripping from his bite. “You’re all mine.”

Without much fight from you, he leans in and presses a harsh kiss against your lips, an all-engulfing force that has you reeling in need. You groan as your head is pushed back against the tree, your pair of lips fighting against his in an attempt to gain back the confidence you had from when you two first met. The mix of the coppery taste of your blood on your tongue adds a toxic aphrodisiac you can't place your finger on, wanting to taste more of yourself on his tongue in other ways. Your eyes lid as you two maintain eye contact through the kiss, the heat between you two ramping up as both of you have something to prove.

“Still tryna win, human? Are you gonna do whatever I tell you to?” Dabi ridicules you once he pulls away and tightly grips your jaw. The force makes your cheeks squish while your bruised lips pout. He leans in to press his lips against yours again as an open mouth kiss, his tongue invading your hot cavern and playing with your tongue. You moan into his handling, your wet muscle barely managing to put up a fight. You helplessly try to chase his lips when he pulls away, the action making him chuckle. “Turn around.”

He lets go of your hands as he allows you to move and notes the way that you slightly flinch from the harsh pressure suddenly being released. Though you quickly shrug it off, more than willing to turn around like the slut that you are. Grinning at your desperation he steps away from you to allow room to turn you around, and seizes your hands in his hold except this time behind your back when you’ve assumed the position. Dabi bends you over some and admires your curves finally up close and freely gropes at your ass. It’s shameful in the way that feeling his calloused hand grope and rub at your globes has you pressing against him, your needy action eliciting a spank from him. You whine out his name as he pulls down your pants, your juices darkening the material between your legs.

“Do you normally act this needy when you lose, hm?”

SMACK, another spank was delivered to your bum. Your eyes roll back when he gives you another and a harsher one to follow until you respond.

Your eyes prick as he taunts you, your legs trembling in need. Contrary to your own knowledge, Dabi was perfectly aware of your track record with beasts. To humans and other “dainty” species, you were known for your combat and prowess but amongst the more gritty creatures have shared more than a few whispers about your sexual endeavors. You turn your head and glare at him, tears and all as blood rushes to the skin of your bruising ass and flustered skin. Just as you were one not to lie, you deflect the implications of your winning and losing rate. “Do you normally take this long to fuck?”

SMACK.

Instead of his hand holding your hands above your head, he lets them go and lets you catch yourself against the uncomfortable tree. With one hand now placed on the side of your head, he holds you in place as he tugged down your underwear, no longer wanting to toy with what he desperately needed to claim as his. “I’m the one who won, remember?” Dabi growls as he grows impatient with your bitching, his hot hand reaching down to cup our sex and letting his two fingers rub at the sensitive nub at the top of your cunt.

The smell of your arousal was taunting him heavily. Dabi had never considered a human as his first option to fuck but you were bringing out a new side to him. The sickening thought alone made him grow impatient as he was more than ready to defile your cute body. Most humans don't fuck back, but you certainly looked like the type and that thought alone was riling him up. Evidently just from the way you were acting, you couldn't help yourself grinding back against him like that. At first glance you seemed like some brute snob, untouched and pompish. But here you were already gong-ho over some dragon dick you have yet to experience; acting so desperate and needy for him. His lips curve into a devilish grin as he marvels at the way your back arches as the arousal gets to you.

“Fuck, Dabi please.” You plead shamelessly as he slips his fingers up and down your folds to collect your slick, helping lube up your opening for his cock. He spits on his fingers to make it more slippery, not wanting to rush the prep as much as he'd love to have your pussy engulf his cock. He shushes you as he leaves his grip on your head to grab your jaw, making you look at him as he rubs at your cunt.

“You’re gonna be a good girl and let me prep you, pet.” He emphasizes his point by teasing at your opening with the tip of his finger then sinking his middle finger into your cunt. His cock twitches at the sensation of your gummy walls squeezing around the digit as strokes the inside of your kitty carefully. He groans and leans back to look at your pussy enveloping his finger, eyes happily drinking in what he’s seeing. “Knew this pussy was hungry for this.”

Your pants are heavy, pussy clenching tightly around his fingers as he continues to work it in and out of your dripping cunt. Dabi made sure to keep his hold on your jaw tight while his other got to work which allows you to brace your hands against the trunk of the tree with your hands now free. His thrusting stops to rub the outside of your lips, spreading your natural juices as lubricant and periodically brushing against your clit before his fingers are fucking themselves into you again. Your face was covered in bruises to some degree as you couldn’t help but keep your face against the tree bark -- not that you could care less, though. A wanton whimper leaves your lips feeling his hand completely leave your opening, making way to release himself from his pants.

He uses the slick from your wet cunt to help lubricate his lengths. He prods the first against your opening and groans lowly from how different the fit of your human pussy compared to other dragons. You felt your eyes burn with tears, his size bigger than you’re used to. You squirm against him only for him to command you to calm down. He spits another time as he works his hips into yours to open you up better, the action working as you produce more slick and loosen up as the moments pass. You feel his finger mix the spit and slick on your asshole, not shying away from playing with your chocolate starfish. He slips in his thumb to tease your opening, the play not phasing you one bit. It wasn't until you feel his finger enter you followed by experimental strokes is when you notice what's up. You suck in your breath, tensing up completely when his finger exits only to feel another head prod at your asshole.

You gasp from the intrusion of his second cock entering you. Your nails dig into the tree and you're consequently returned the favor as your hands sting from gripping onto it for dear life. You had never taken anything of his size in that entrance and you could tell he was enjoying the squeeze by how much he was throbbing in you. He breathes out curses into your neck, reminding you of your place and how tight you wrapped around him. Never had Dabi contemplated wanting to mate a human until now, the feeling like nothing he had felt before.

“You’re taking me so well, fuck.” Heavy and sloppy thrusts are met against your ass. The way of his thrusting signifies the animalistic side of him, the easing of his cock into you was nothing short of barbaric and drowning in pure pleasure. As he worked his hips better into yours.

It felt as though he was already accustomed to you and you loved it. The length and girth of his cock was filling a void you didn’t know you needed, and you weren’t sure if you were going to be able to come back from it.

“How’s it feel to be fucked by a dragon, heh,” The dragon huffs out and works more of his length into your battered pussy and ass. Your sopping cunt and tight ass was starting to take his cock easier and easier the more he fucked you. His hands bored from only holding you in place soon move to tug up your shirt and grope at your tits, hands roughly fondling your mounds as if he had no rhyme or reason.

“Da… Dabi..!” You moan out, ass and pussy still clenching tight around him. He moans enjoying how you say his name before HISSing at the fact you were almost squeezing him too tight. Dabi refused to take his eyes off the area where your bodies joined, deeply engrossed by the way his cocks disappears to the hilt as he fucked your tight holes.

“Fuck you’re squeezing me so tight little pet!” He exclaims excitedly, teeth to mark up your neck once again. Dabi hums in delight, hands roughly kneading your breasts. He tugs on your nipples craving the thought of wanting to know what your nipples would taste like against his tongue. Or even if he did so choose to breed you, how full, plump and ready you’d look -- all just for him.

Your vision blurs as the only thing on your mind is to relish in the pleasure you were receiving, hips riding back against his as you chase your climax. You were nothing but a vessel for your pleasure, not giving shit about him either. The all-consuming experience was successfully eating you up and you loved every second of it. If it meant being “his” pet, then so be it.

When he hits a certain angle in your holes, you shake as ecstasy shoots through our body. Your already breathier sighs and moans from your stolen breath now deepens into loud and sluttier sounds, your orgasm finally imminent. You start to babble not wanting nothing more than to finish on this dragon’s cocks.

“Please, please, Dabi-” You mewl. “Cum, need it.” You whine as you feel the familiar coil in your stomach tighten, the slick running down your thighs aiding in the ability of letting him thrust within you.

Dabi shushes you as he grabs both of your elbows and holds you up himself. He uses you like a pussy pocket as he starts to chase his release as well, needing to finish inside you just as much as you wanted to finish on his cocks. “Gonna breed you, s’that what you want, pet? Tell me what you need.”

“Fuck I need you to cum in me..!” You moan out, feeling your stomach coil to signify the impending orgasm that is about to hit you. Without needing any further excuse he grips your arms impossibly tight as he pummels into you, his hips bruising your backside as he drives you over the edge.

With a final thrust, he bottoms out inside you, relishing in the feeling of emptying his semen. A deep growl reverberates in Dabi’s chest as he finishes, his muscles only relaxing when he starts to empty. He holds you in place as you have no other choice but to take his stuffing, the amount so copious it starts to spill from your openings.

Dabi slowly lets you go as he pulls out, cocks flaccid and messy. He bends you over to look at your creampied holes, hands spreading your cheeks to get an unobstructed view of it. He gives your pained cheek an appreciative smack, snorting when you groan in pain at the feeling. The dragon stands back up and yanks at your hair, the unnecessary action making you whip your head around to glare at him, only to be met with a proud grin with his sharp teeth on display.

“You’re mine now, pet.”

all rights reserved © do NOT steal, alter, translate or copy this work.

[mountainsandmayhem]

Masterlist - all 18+

Little Dove (18+, Minors Do Not Interact)

After your daughters go off to college, you and Joel become empty nesters in your early 40's. The two of you take advantage of all this alone time, falling into a Sub/Dom relationship and exploring new kinks. No outbreak, these are characters in their 40's with real bodies. See each chapter for content warnings. Tags include: use of nicknames (little dove, baby, etc.), unprotected p in v, edging, bondage, spanking, consensual non consent, cum play, toys.

BDSMaid (18+ Minors, Do Not Interact)

After recently graduating from university, your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. It’s only temporary and a good way to save money for when you go back to get your law degree. That’s what you’re promised at least. Easy. Simple. Mundane. That is, until one of your clients is home and everything that you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.

Moulin Rouge - AU (18+ Minors, Do Not Interact)

Joel takes up a job as a maintenance man at the Moulin Rouge. He's glad to finally have enough money to get by day by day, but when he sees you, the Sparkling Diamond, the whole world melts away and all that matters is you, even if you are promised to another. A/N: I'm writing this with @mermaidgirl30. She will be posting it on her account. See each chapter for content warnings. Tags include: oral, p in v, fingering, praise, use of nicknames (Darlin', baby girl, etc.), non consensual touching and misogynostic language (not by Joel).

Wings. Fire. Magic. - AU (18+ Minors, Do Not Interact)

You just needed one dragons egg, one egg and you could turn the life of you and your family around completely. But when Joel Miller captures you, it turns out that it's his life that gets turned around. See each chapter for content warnings.

One Shots

Shhh…Just A Little Bit More (DBF!Joel) Shhh...Just A Little Bit More 2 (DBF!Joel) Shhh...Just A Little Bit More 3 - Soft (DFB!Joel) Shhh...Just A Little Bit More 3 - Spicy (DFB!Joel)

Happy Easter, Joel Miller (Husband!Joel) Sunday With Your Dad's Best Friend (DBF!Joel) A Lesson In Learning (Dom!Joel) God Bless the She Devil Who Made Joel Miller (BFD!Joel) Right Person, Wrong Time (Joel Miller Fluff)

Tess’s Treasures (MFFF)

Joel Miller: Period Master (Joel Miller Fluff)

One Shots

Wonderful Tonight Netflix & Chill Aisle Amore

Just One More, Baby

Beach Babe

Please, Sir

🤓 Mayhem’s Reviews 🤓

Book reviews/recommendations for what I read that month

July

August

September

[nehi-soda]

Bedroom Ceremonials - Joel Miller x Female Reader No Outbreak AU

Explicit; Minors DNI 18+ only.

“You walk a fine line between god and animal

You’re just a feral dog I worship in bedroom ceremonials”

- Dog Days, Ethel Cain.

Summary: His warm eyes were now stormy with frustration and concern, raindrops clinging to his dark hair, and his chaahart jacket soaked through from the rain. He doesn't waste a moment before unleashing his pent-up emotions, his breathing ragged as he towers in the doorway.

"Where the hell were you?"

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: P in V sex, ANGST, rough sex, smut, jealous!joel, established relationship, mention of violence (not directed at reader), alcohol, praise kink, dirty talk, size kink, makeup sex, oral sex (female receiving), au!joel, no outbreak!joel. Legal age gap (reader is mid 20's Joel is late 40's). No use of Y/N.

A/N: This is my first time writing any kind of smut or fan fiction. I just had to get some ideas out of my system. Joel is just so Ethel Cain coded.

As you step inside, the weight of the day's stress seems to cling to you like a heavy coat. It's been a rough day, and the unfamiliarity of your new job and home is only adding to your apprehension.

You can't help but feel a pang of longing for your dad's company, and you miss the comfort of having Joel just across the street.

You walk through the door, feeling like a soggy mess after getting caught in the rain on your way home.

Although you've been living there for four weeks now, the space still feels new. You do love it. You enjoy having your own space, being surrounded by your belongings, and having total control over the decor. Joel has personally assembled nearly all the furniture. No longer are you limited to just decorating your childhood bedroom.

However, you're still finding your feet in this new chapter of your life.

After dumping your bag in the hallway, you sigh deeply and release some of the tension that has built up in your neck. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror - your mascara is smudged, and your hair is plastered to your face.

You quickly change out of your wet clothes and head to the bathroom to run the shower. As the steam begins to fill the room, you can feel yourself starting to relax.

You're already wrapped in your towel, pacing around your bedroom, when you grab your phone. It's been a busy day, and you haven't had a chance to check your messages. You see that Joel has sent you a few texts that you haven't had a chance to respond to.

Joel: hey baby, hope you have a good day at work x

Joel: hey, me again. Everything ok?

Joel: I figured you’re probably caught up in work stuff. Call me when you’re home.

As you toss your phone onto the bed, your face pulls into a guilty frown. You make a mental note to call Joel as soon as you're out of the shower, but right now, all you want to do is snuggle up in bed. Even though you crave to hear his southern drawl pour out of your phone's speaker like honey, exhaustion had taken over.

You head into the bathroom and swiftly lock the door behind you. You let out a sigh of relief as the hot water from the shower caresses your neck and chest. As you lather up your hair and body, you feel the day's stress slowly melting away.

Emerging from the shower, your hair still damp and clinging to your back, you tiptoe to your dresser and fish out a pair of checkered sleep shorts and an off-the-shoulder grey sweater, which you've cherished for years, proudly displaying "Texas" in bold across the front. You decide to complete the outfit with a pair of comfy cream knee socks for added warmth. They hug your thighs as you towel off your hair.

As you sink into the plush comfort of your bed and listen to the rain beating down on your windows, your thoughts drift to the soothing sound of Joel's voice.

You imagine the reassuring thump of his heart beneath your ear, the scratch of his unshaven jaw grazing the top of your head, and the comforting sensation of his work-worn fingers tracing hypnotic circles on your shoulders.

You yearn for more time with Joel, but it's hard to make it happen with busy schedules. He's been spoilt having you for nearly the entire summer break after graduating from college and now you both are feeling the strain.

Fortunately, he's devised a thoughtful solution - offering to pick you up after work to drop you home to squeeze in some extra quality time. Only this inevitably ends up with him just taking you to his house so he can tangle his fingers in your hair and fuck you senseless all night. Smart plan.

You wake up in his sheets, smelling like him. You always wake up first. You start to get ready for work, stealing glances at him sleeping in the sheets. Vulnerable and quiet. Such a contrast to his demeanour the night before when he gripped your hips so deliciously hard he left bruises, and pulled the fibres of pink tissue from your lips into shreds with his teeth.

You savour a warm cup of his coffee as marmalade sunlight seeps through the curtains, casting golden rays across his head like a halo. A glint of silver is growing up the side of his hairline. He thinks it makes him look distinguished, and you can’t help but agree. He loves to be so much older than you. He thinks it makes him wise.

You recall your fingers tapping against his bare chest like a spider's legs as you undo his flannel buttons one by one, revealing a glimpse of his toned torso from his physically demanding job. He listens intently as you ramble on about your day, content to let you have the floor. He's not much of a talker, but you don't mind. You love the way he watches you. His eyes glitter like a lake catching the glare of the moonlight, and he smirks when you get flustered. He knows the power he holds over you, and he lets it all go to his head.

He's a man of simple pleasures- clean socks and messy hair. He writes his name in the fog on the mirror from where he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pressed your face against the glass. The memory still makes you feel dizzy.

You believe he walks a fine line between god and animal, like a feral dog you worship in bedroom ceremonials.

Just as your saccharine memories of Joel have lulled you to sleep, you hear a loud hammering at the door. You jolt awake, panicked and disorientated, feeling like you’ve been ripped away from paradise.

Groggily, you fumble around the sheets for your phone, finding it still in the same spot where you tossed it earlier. Your eyes are still heavy with sleep; they peer at the illuminated screen displaying 11:11.

You see a barrage of missed calls from Joel. Your heart races as you wonder what could be so urgent. Then it hits you like a ton of bricks - you’d forgotten to call him….

You take in your surroundings- the deep blue hue of your room and the persistent pounding at your front door. You scramble out of bed and rush through the hallway.

You fumble with the lock and swing the door open to find Joel standing there, his gaze fixed on yours with an intensity you've never seen before. His warm eyes were now stormy with frustration and concern, raindrops clinging to his dark hair, and his chaahart jacket soaked through from the rain. He doesn't waste a moment before unleashing his pent-up emotions, his breathing ragged as he towers in the doorway.

"Where the hell were you?" he demands, his voice sharp and accusatory with a southern edge. “I've been callin' and textin' all day, and you couldn't even bother to respond?” He barges past you. The sound of heavy footsteps resonates through the living room as Joel paces back and forth. The tension in the air is palpable, hanging thick like the storm clouds outside. You watch him, tugging on your sleeves and shuffling your socks against the wood floor.

“Joel, I'm sorry. It was just a hectic day, and I lost track of time. I didn't mean to ignore you." You answer, still caught off guard by his unexpected visit.

His expression tightens, and he steps closer, invading your personal space. “Lost track of time? Or were you with someone else, huh? Is that what's goin' on?"

Your heart feels heavy with hurt. "Joel, no! I would never—" He cuts you off, his frustration escalating.

"Don't give me that. You've been distant lately, and now this? I'm not stupid. If you're messin’ around, just be honest about it.” The faint scent of alcohol lingers on his breath. Whiskey you guess. Tears well up in your eyes as you try to make him understand.

"Joel, I'm not cheating on you. It's just been a tough transition with the new job and all. I've been overwhelmed." Your heart pounding now.

He carries on prowling around your living room.

“What, you think I’ve been fucking one of my co-workers on the side?” you continue, struggling to focus on his face as your vision blurs from the tears.

His face is shrouded in the darkness of your living room. He casts a long shadow on your walls. “Overwhelmed or not, you should have found a moment to let me know. Ignorin' me ain't fair.” His words come out with a coldness that makes a lump develop in your throat. You nod, a tear escaping and trailing down your cheek. "You're right. I should have communicated better. I didn't mean to hurt you."

He sighs, running a hand through his wet hair. "Damn it, I care about you. I can't stand feelin’ like I don't even know where you are."

"Joel, please," you plead, trying to sound calm, but your voice comes out strained. You can’t help but feel pathetic. "Let's talk about this. I don't want things to be like this."

He halts his pacing, shooting you a glare that cuts through the air like lightning. "Talk? We've been needin' to talk for a while now. You've been avoidin' it”.

You take a deep breath; your lips tremble now. "I know. I've been caught up in everything; I don’t want to think about anything when I'm with you. That’s why I don’t bring it up.”

Joel's gaze narrows, his lips forming a tight line. The room feels charged with his lingering anger. He releases a sigh and his eyes soften slightly.

"I get it. Life can throw a whole mess of things at us; sometimes it feels like we're drownin'. But keepin' things bottled up and shuttin’ me out ain't the answer baby girl," he says, his Southern drawl carrying a touch of sweetness. You nod again the tears are now streaming down your face.

“I just… I don't want to burden you with my problems. I want our time together to be a safe space from all the chaos."

He lets out a heavy sigh. "Look, I ain't sayin' it's gonna be easy, but we can't keep playin' these games. I ain’t one of your lil’ college boyfriends, okay. If you got a problem, we face it together. That's what bein' in a grown-up relationship is about." His tone bites.

You nod again, a heavy weight settling in your chest. "You're right. I messed up. I want to fix it, Joel." The desperation in your voice echoes, and you feel like a rabbit pleading into the blinding headlights of an oncoming car.

He steps closer, his hand warm on your cheek as you lean into his touch. "I appreciate that, darlin', but we're in this together.” His words are unexpectedly soft.

"You're right. I shouldn't have shut you out,” you mumble.

His darkened eyes threaten to swallow you up as they gaze into yours. He makes you feel… nervous. His mere presence has this effect, leaving you feeling exposed as your emotions betray you, slipping from your eyes and staining your cheeks. In this vulnerable moment, you're reminded of how much he loves it when you’re so needy. The contrast between your sleep clothes and his work attire makes you feel small. You wonder why he hadn’t changed out of them before coming over?

Joel had been back from work hours before he arrived at your apartment. He paced anxiously in his living room with a glass of whiskey in his hand, work-worn jeans, and boots still on. He pours himself another whiskey and slams it down on the coffee table as his mind swims with thoughts of you with another man. Joel knew he was jumping to conclusions but how else could he explain your distance lately? He knew you were too good for him. He just knew how everyone turned to look at you when you entered the room. You were too damn pretty for your own good. His jaw clenched at the thought of another man’s hands roaming over your perfect body. His grip tightened on his whiskey glass before smashing it against the wall in frustration.

He storms outside into the rain to his truck.

On his way to your apartment his eyes are wild on the road, knuckles turning white on the wheel.

“God, you drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he hisses between his teeth. Joel's hands, calloused and strong, cradle your face delicately.

“We'll figure it out, darlin'. Together. No more keepin' things from each other. Deal?" His voice warm and husky.

You smile as he buries your face into his still-wet chest. "Deal." You sigh.

He withdraws from you and firmly holds your chin, trailing kisses over your wet cheeks. He finds your lips and presses his mouth against yours. He dips his tongue into your mouth and you let out a soft moan. He tastes like whiskey.

Joel switches his grip from your chin to the back of your thighs as he lifts you in his strong arms. You feel his muscles flexing, and your legs instinctively wrap around his waist as he carries you towards your bedroom. When you’re in his arms you’re convinced that nothing in the world could harm you.

Your heart races against your chest as he navigates the familiar terrain of your room. He places you gently on the bed, and the mattress yields to the shape of your body. Joel hovers above you, his eyes locked onto yours, dancing a shade of midnight. The soft illumination of moonlight casts shadows on his face, emphasizing the strong contours of his nose and face.

You can hear the muted sounds of rain outside, the creaking of the bed beneath you, and the rhythmic cadence of your breathing.

Joel's hands, now free from supporting your weight, shed his soaked jacket. You peer up at him as you work on your own sweater and discard it over your head. Your skin erupts in goosebumps with the exposure of your breasts. Your chest rising and falling steadily, nipples puckered like rosebuds. His eyes skate over your body with glint of hunger. You snake your hands underneath his shirt. He gets the idea and pulls his shirt off too.

You pull him closer into you with your legs as you writhe around underneath him, heels digging into his lower back. He leans over you, trailing open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and neck. Profanities escape his breath as he ruts his hips into yours. The undeniable hardness beneath his jeans becoming more prominent.

His kisses are now nips, blooming blue and violet markings along your throat and collar bone. You grip at the roots of his hair, and extend your neck further to give him some extra room.

“Joel, please,” you wimper as you throw your head back into the bed.

He hums against your throat, and it sends tingles down your body.

“I want you,” you continue to whine.

You feel him grin and pull back. He shuffles himself off the bed and kneels on the floor. You take a hard swallow as he works at the waistband of your shorts and pulls them off along with your panties in one swift motion. He runs his hands along your knee socks playfully.

“These can stay,” he declares with a deep voice that reverberates across the room.

His head is low and in line with your bare throbbing pussy. You chew your lip as he settles down between your thighs.

His hot breath ghosts across your needy clit as he holds your thighs in place.

He starts sucking on your clit and your eyes roll to the back of your head. Little breaths escape your mouth.

“Fuck Joel.” You let out, gripping at the bed sheets.

He continues working at your clit. His beard on his chin pressed firmly against your entrance. The scratch is almost sore but mixed with the waves of pleasure emitting from his lips, you don’t care.

“Jo- Joel,…I-,” you can no longer string a sentence together.

“Use your words baby,” he mumbles against you.

"I-I don't even… want you to e-eat my pussy. I just… want your c-cock in my pussy," you whine, eyes pressed shut. Head thrown back in ecstasy.

"Huh? Well, what do we say when we want somethin’?" Joel teases, glancing over you, observing your growing distress.

“P-please,” your lips quiver.

“Good girl.” He coos, shifting to stand over you like a phantom in the dark.

You hear the clink of metal as he undoes his belt and unzips his jeans to step out of them. He returns to the space between your legs reaching into his boxers to free his cock. The head looks angry and is leaking precum. He leans over you, and lines up to your entrance and pauses.

“Are you going to be good and answer your phone when I call?” He spits. A sheen of sweat forms on his skin, making his hair cling to his forehead.

“Huh…yeah…. I’ll be g-good I promise.” You moan, desperate for the stretch of his cock.

He slides into you, and you can't help but gasp. You're always so surprised by his sheer size. You wince as you try to adjust to accommodate him inside you.

“Ah…fuck.” He grunts, slowly building momentum in his thrusts. “Always, so tight for me baby.”

Your mouth falls open as the familiar swirl of your release is already growing in the pit of your stomach. Your nails carve small crescents into his sides as you clutch onto him.

Fuck, you needed this. You needed the stress to be fucked out of you.

More mumbles and moans slip from your mouth as you’re rocked into the bed, becoming more and more cock drunk.

“Such a good girl takin’ all of me.” Joel grits. His southern twang stronger when he's all riled up. His thrusts hit deeper, hitting a spot inside you so delicious it threatens to push you over the edge.

You pull your legs up higher around him, your hands cradle your toes just to give you something to cling onto. He felt like he was splitting you open. Filling you to the hilt.

The filthy sound of the bed creaking and the slapping of skin filled the room.

His hand moves to clasp around your throat, and you blink up at him, pupils blown out wide.

"Tell me you're my lil’ slut.” he spits.

"I-I'm your lil' slu-slut,” you cry out, your words catching in your throat.

“um…yes, you are darlin’, and don’t you forget it,” Joel whispers darkly in your ear.

“Now cum for me.” He grunts.

“Cum-for-me-prin-cess.” Each syllable punctuated with a hard thrust. His hips meeting yours. You were definitely going to feel it in the morning.

You feel your climax edging to the forefront and his words are enough to send you spiralling.

“Joel-fuck!” You pant as your muscles pull taught in your stomach, and your legs shake.

“That’s my baby.” He encourages you past the point of no return and you sink into your orgasm. You grip his cock tight like a vice and it’s too much for him. His orgasm spirts out hot. His cock pulsating inside you as he collapses his head into your neck.

“Oh fuck, baby, so good!” He exclaims- emptying his balls into you. You feel his spent spilling inside.

He peels himself off you and pulls out with a wince. You feel so painfully empty without him buried deep inside you, occupying every one of your senses.

He pulls you into the duvet and holds you close. You feel his warmth seeping into your bones. You both lie there with ragged breaths and oxytocin coursing through your veins. With a gentle touch, he swipes some stray hairs from your face as you nestle into his chest panting.

You lie there for a while watching the raindrops race each other on the windowpane, each tiny droplet leaving a fleeting mark on the glass. You can hear the steady beat of Joel’s heart under you. You were wiped out, eyes beginning to flutter closed.

In the quiet of your little cocoon, the minutes stretch like molasses until Joel breaks the comfortable silence.

With his arms wrapped around you, he whispers, “We'll face whatever comes together, darlin’," and plants a gentle kiss on your forehead. You feel his warmth and love, and you know that you're not alone.

divider credit to @saradika

[late-to-the-party-81]

His little dolly

AN: Here we go, party-people. Here is the third part of my DBF Steve, officially making it a Series by the rules of Jen. This is actually based on the original idea by the lovely @krissy25 which started the whole thing off. It also actually adds some plot, which I was not expecting. It is, however, still absolute filth

Beta’d by @endlesstwanted, wrangler of commas

Likes are loved, reblogs are golden

Mood board by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

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@steverogersbingo  - C3 - Free Space

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Summary: You have to try and control yourself when your parents and you spend the day helping Steve building his new deck. The evening, however, is a different matter.

Relationship: DBF Steve x Inexperienced Reader

Word count: 4.3k

CW: AU: No Powers, Age difference (Steve 40s, Reader early 20’s), Soft Dark Steve, Power Imbalance, Secret relationship, Oral Sex (F receiving), Fingering, Squirting, Unprotected PIV Sex (reader on BC), Pussy slapping, Breath-play, Under-negotiated kink, Mild Angst, Implied Somnophilia, Implied Cum eating, Steve Rogers Dirty Talk, Bimbo-fication.

This was going to be torture. You were going to be spending the whole day with Steve, which on the surface, sounded like a dream - you only usually spent snatched moments together. However, your parents were also going to be there this time. 

Your Dad had gleefully announced three days ago that you’d all be spending Saturday at Steve’s house, having a cook-out while he and Steve worked on renovating Steve’s deck. So here you were, in the backseat of your Dad’s car as he drove the couple of miles across town to get there. You’d be so near but so far, and you had no idea how you were going to keep it together, especially since you hadn’t seen him in a week and he was still in possession of your toy-box.

The car lurched as your Dad pulled up outside Steve’s house, braking a little too hard, and you could almost hear his eyes roll as your Mom clicked her tongue at him. As they both got out of the car you put your best game face on and joined them. 

It was a warm day, and determined not to be labelled as a ‘useless woman’ you’d eschewed your normal hot weather wardrobe of a sundress. Instead you’d put on sturdy sneakers, some denim shorts and a baggy sleeveless tee, intending to help out with Steve’s renovations. You hoped that if you were busy, you’d be able to distract yourself from being so close to what you wanted.

That plan went straight out the window almost immediately. The three of you walked up the path, but instead of heading to the front door your Dad veered off toward the gate that went directly into the back yard. He pushed it open, holding it for you and your Mom, and you followed her through it. 

You came to a grinding halt as all thoughts were driven from your head.

Steve had already started working, and he must have been at it for a while because he’d already discarded his shirt and had a sheen of sweat over his body.

Your mouth went dry and you barely noticed the way you pressed your thighs together, your clit already throbbing with arousal. He looked like a god come to life.

Yes, you’d seen him naked more than once, but you’d never seen him like this in the bright light of day, just looking so masculine. Was there a name for this kink? The urge to just lick the sweat from his pecs was almost overwhelming.

“Sweetie? Are you okay?” Your Mom’s voice pulled you back into reality.

“Umm, yeah. I - uuh - just got something in my eye.” You blinked rapidly and rubbed at your right eye to bring credence to your story, but it seemed that your Mom wasn’t fooled. She leaned in close and whispered conspiratorially. 

“He is rather distracting, I’ll grant you.”

“Mom!” You felt your cheeks flame with embarrassment, and looked around to see if either your Dad, or god forbid Steve, had heard. “You can’t say things like that,” you hissed out.

Your Mom just gave you a wink. “Married, not dead, sweetie. Just don’t look at boys your own age like that - they might take it the wrong way and try to take advantage.”

You bit your tongue, desperately hoping she wouldn’t work out your secret just by looking at your face. Luckily you were saved by an unlikely ally when your Dad shouted out for your Mom’s attention as he tried to locate his tool belt. “I’m gonna go and get the cooler from the car,” you shouted, desperate for a few moments alone to compose yourself.

Spending all day with Steve was one thing, but spending it with him when he was topless, his skin kissed by the sun, and with him letting out little grunts of effort that reminded you too much of other noises? Well, you’d be lucky not to just orgasm on the spot and then the game would be up.

You jogged back down Steve’s front path to where your Dad’s car was parked at the curb. You popped the trunk, and were just leaning into it to lift out the cooler full of beer and meat for the cookout when a shadow fell over you.

You whirled around, coming straight into eye contact with the physique you’d just been admiring.

“Hey, Babydoll. You look a little warm. Something got you all flustered?” The way he teased you normally got you going, but given the current situation it just made you cross. You stepped away, needing space to breathe, and looked over at his smirking face. At least he’d thrown his shirt back over his shoulders, but it wasn’t buttoned and his chest was just there. 

“You’ve done this on purpose,” you ground out, trying not to raise your voice and catch your parents’ attention.

“I don’t know what you mean, sweetheart,” Steve drawled mockingly, as he reached into the trunk and effortlessly picked up the cooler. “I just got a bit overheated while working and needed to strip off. Surely, you can understand that. And anyway, I’m just your Dad’s friend - not your type in any case.”

“Fuck you!” you whispered, full of both anger and arousal. 

Steve stepped back up onto the sidewalk heading back towards his house, but he paused as he passed you, ducking his head to whisper in your ear. “Later, Babydoll. Later. And don’t go touching yourself when you go to the bathroom. I’ll know if you do…”

He walked away, and you gave yourself a few seconds to take in some deep breaths before following him back into his yard. He was already talking to your Mom when you got there, back to being the genial friend of the family.

“Thank you for bringing over the food and agreeing to come help out. I expected it to just be me and Twinkle-toes over there.” He jerked his head in your Dad’s direction, who pouted at the nickname, and your Mom threw back her head and laughed.

“Oh, it’s no problem at all, Steve. You’re like family. You know we think of you like a brother.”

Steve glanced over at you, and the look you saw in his eyes was in no way ‘uncle-like’. You shivered and tried not to think of all the things the two of you had done - things that would probably make your Mom faint and your Dad go apoplectic. 

There was only one way you were going to get through this day, so purposefully ignoring Steve you strode over to where your Dad was looking at the decking planks, a measuring tape in hand and a carpenter’s pencil between his teeth.

“How can I help?” you asked, and got stuck in.

Your plan worked to a certain extent. At least while you were helping your Dad measure and cut, or helping your Mom prepare the food for the grill. However, everytime you thought you had your equilibrium back on an even keel, Steve seemed to somehow know and would make a point of brushing past you or would stand in your eye line. He’d then tip his head back and drink from his beer, uncaring if any errant drops spilled from his mouth and trickled down his throat and chest. A few times you were tempted to disobey him - go to his bathroom and relieve the tension building in your core. You even wondered if you could sneak off to his bedroom and use his pillow to get yourself off, but you weren’t that brave.

The hours passed by fast despite each minute feeling like an eternity, and it was with a sense of pride that you realised that your assistance had actually been useful - Steve’s deck was almost complete. The railings on one side still needed to be put into place and the protective wood stain needed to be added, but all in all it was a success. 

Now you were all relaxing on loungers, having filled up on burgers, wieners and your Mom’s potato salad, sipping on the remaining beers. 

Your parents and Steve had been talking about local goings-on while you’d been daydreaming when Steve directed a question to you.

“So, d’you think you’ll have the energy to meet up with your girlfriends after all your efforts today?”

For a moment you were confused. You had no plans after this, let alone with any girlfriends, but then a lightbulb came on in your head. “Oh, uh, yeah. I’ve just gotta check if they still wanna go out. They weren’t sure, which is why I hadn’t mentioned it,” you turned to your parents, hoping they found it plausible. Your Dad just waved his hand.

“You’re a grown up now, sweetie. You don’t need to account for your movements to us. We know you’re sensible. And it won’t be too long now before you spread your wings and leave the nest completely - get that job you’ve been dreaming of.”

“Oh,” said Steve with interest. “What job is that?”

“Hasn’t she told you?” Your Mom sat forward in her chair, full of excitement. “She’s got an interview for an internship at Walker Industries. Our baby’s on the up and up.”

“Mom,” you groaned. “It’s not that glamorous. It’s really just glorified data entry.”

“But it’s a big company,” your Mom argued back. “International. And you’re smart and ambitious. You’ll be working your way up in no time.”

Neither her or your Dad seemed to notice how quiet Steve had gone - how his now dark gaze was settled squarely on you -, but you did and you couldn’t work out what it meant. Then, with a smack of his hands on his thighs, Steve stood up.

“Well, it’s been a long day and I really do appreciate the help and the company, but if Little Miss Social Life here has something planned, I’d best let you go.”

Your Dad looked at his watch and gasped, making some comment about time flying, and then you were all caught up in a flurry of activity and goodbyes. Your Dad checked he had all his tools and your Mom made sure she had all her food containers, despite Steve’s insistence he should keep them to wash up and return at another point. Ten minutes later, you were all back in the car heading home.

Twenty minutes after that you were under the shower, washing the sweat and dirt of the day off yourself and trying to ignore how every nerve ending in your body was on fire from the anticipation of what was to come. In another forty minutes, you’d tried on and discarded various different outfits, trying to find just the right one. It was proving difficult because your parents thought you were going out with the girls, so your outfit had to reflect that, but at the same time Steve preferred a certain aesthetic on you - loving you in little sundresses and flirty skirts. However, having emptied most of your meagre wardrobe over your bed and your floor, you finally settled on something that you hoped would work - a hot pink dress with spaghetti straps and skirt that swirled when you moved. You slicked on some light make-up, again trying to strike the balance right, grabbed your purse and jogged down the stairs.

You shouted a hurried ‘good-bye’ to your parents, who were cuddled up on the couch sleepily watching one of their favourite police procedural dramas, and finally made your way out of the door. While walking down the darkening sidewalk, your jacket slung over your arm, you checked your phone. You’d sent Steve an estimate of when you’d be ready and hoped he’d be waiting for you at the end of the block. There was no response to the text you’d sent to the number saved under ‘Janice’, and you started to feel nervous until you turned the corner and saw the vehicle you’d been on the lookout for.

Feeling a bit giddy, you skipped over, opening the passenger door and sliding in beside Steve. You threw your arms around his neck and pressed your lips to his. He looked back at you, indulgently, and licked his lips.

“You look like a doll come to life, sweetheart.”

You preened under his praise. “I’m glad you like it,” you replied, smoothing the hot pink fabric over your legs.

“If I was less of a gentleman, I’d have my way with you here and now,” he growled, dramatically.

“And if you were more of a gentleman, I wouldn’t even be here,” you teased back.

“Brat,” he replied with a chuckle and a warning pinch to your thigh. “Behave.”

“Yes, Steve.” You pouted and batted your eyelids, and he chuckled again before putting his car in drive and peeling away from the curb. As he drove, you gave him sideways glances, studying his profile as you hummed to the music on the stereo and tapping your hands on your lap. The streetlights helped to highlight the streaks of grey at his temples, and you longed to run your fingers through it. You just had to be patient, though - it wouldn’t be long until Steve had you spread out on his bed and you’d have the chance to do just that.

Heat started to pool within you, the anticipation making you fidgety, and you let out a sigh of relief when Steve steered the car up his drive and into his garage. As soon as he killed the engine, he was making his way around your side of the car to open the door. He helped you out and then immediately took your face in his large hands, laying a demanding kiss on you. You squeaked briefly in surprise before leaning into it, your hands fisting his shirt for balance. You’d worn higher heels than normal and weren’t used to the change in your centre of gravity. 

Steve smiled against your lips, sliding his hands down your body until he grasped your ass and lifted you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your skirt riding up, and dug your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. He walked across the garage but didn’t take you through the door into the main house, instead heading out into his backyard. He lowered you slowly, your bodies sliding against each other until your feet hit the new planks.

“Why are we out here, Steve? We spent all day on this damn thing.”

He smiled at you in the moonlight. “Exactly, Babydoll. You helped me build it, so now you have to help me christian it.”

You cocked your head at him, brows furrowed, and then realisation hit. “Oh!”

Steve pulled you back into his embrace. “Oh, indeed,” he said, and then he lowered his mouth to yours again, demanding entrance and acting as though he was going to devour you. You gave back as good as you got, feeling desperate for his touch. “Today was so hard,” he muttered against your lips. “Every time you bent over in those shorts, fuck. There were moments where I almost didn’t care that your parents were here. I wanted to rip them from you and take you right here.”

“‘Wasn’t any easier for me,” you murmured back. “My Mom saw me staring at you - I think she thinks I’ve got a crush on you. Warned me not to look at boys my age the way I look at you.”

“As if you’d dare,” came the jesting reply.

Steve’s hand skimmed down your side until it reached the hem of your dress. It made its way under, his palm sliding over your thigh working its way up to your hip where it stopped, and he pulled back from your kiss.

“Sweetheart, have you come out without any panties on?”

You peered up at him, coyly from under your lashes. “Maybe…” It was your turn to smirk.

“Fuck,” he barked and then dropped straight to his knees, his hands throwing up your skirt so he could grasp your naked ass and pull you onto his face. His tongue found its way, unerring, between your folds and straight to your clit, giving you no time to prepare yourself.

“Steve!” you screeched before biting down on your lip, and grabbing hold of his head as you tottered on your heels. “Oh god!”

He was like a man possessed, slurping lewdly at your sex and alternating between sucking on your clit and thrusting his tongue in and out of your spasming cunt. It was a vicious onslaught of pleasure that left you dizzy and out of breath. When he pressed two of his fingers inside of you without warning, you had to let go of him with one hand so you could bite down on the base of your thumb to stop from screaming in ecstasy. “Give it to me, Babydoll. I need you to make a mess.”

He stroked that special spot inside of you without pause, and sucked on your clit as your legs shook. There was a heavy feeling inside your core, like the building of an orgasm but different, as he kept up his pleasurable torture.

“Steve!” You gasped. “I…I’m gonna…what’s happening?”

He didn’t answer, just kept up what he was doing, driving you closer to the brink and also towards something unknown. When you came, it was with a massive release of pressure. Your body jerked in his hold, your eyes rolled up and you felt a wet flood between your legs. You heard Steve moan into your cunt, and then you heard the patter of liquid onto the wood between your feet. You felt like you were flying and sinking at the same time.

“What the fuck?” You slurred as Steve slowly rose back to his feet.

“You squirted, sweetheart. So fucking sexy.”

“I what?” You squeaked, unbelieving. “But isn’t that…” A feeling of shame started to wash over you, but Steve interrupted it, pressing one of his fingers to your lips.

“Yes, but also no. Don’t think too much about it, honey. It’s nothing to be ashamed of - it’s natural. Just means you were really turned on, and let me tell you, it’s quite the ego boost to do that to you. Made me even harder.”

His eyes narrowed and he took hold of your hand, so much smaller than his and placed it over the bulge in his jeans.

“It’s gonna make it a lot easier for me to slip inside that tight pussy of yours too. She’s so wet, ‘m gonna just slide right in. And fuck, it’s gonna make some beautiful sounds. Would you like that, Babydoll? Want me to stuff this fat cock into your hungry cunt? See if I can make you squirt again?”

His words hypnotised you and you groped at his cock, staring up at him with your mouth wide open and your eyes glazed with lust. Fuck, you could feel your cum running down your bare thighs. “Please,” you begged, your tone husky and full of need.

As if you were a rag doll, Steve steered you backwards until your back hit one of the completed portions of railing. He spun you to face it and then plastered himself against your back. The heat of him burned through your dress, and his breath tickled your ear. “I’m gonna take you right here and you’re gonna be good for me and take it. You’re gonna be quiet too - we don’t want Mrs Kennedy next door coming out to find out what’s going on.”

You heard the metallic snick of his fly being lowered and your eyes fluttered closed. Steve’s foot tapped yours and you widened your stance, taking hold of the railing for stability. Slowly, he pulled your skirt up above your hips and his cock nudged against your naked ass. Steve placed his left hand, fingers splayed over your stomach, holding you right where he wanted you as he guided his cock to the entrance of your cunt and then pressed in with one hard thrust.

You choked back your cry, your fingers tightening their grip on the wood in front of you.

“Good girl,” Steve praised, and he started to fuck into you with long, firm strokes. “Such a perfect little dolly, just for me.”

His right hand came up to the straps of your dress and bra, lowering them down your arms so he could free your breasts. The cool evening air blew across you, making your nipples peak, and you moaned low in your throat as Steve rolled each of them in turn, plucking and pulling at them in a way that was both painful and oh-so-good.

He fucked you languidly, building you up slowly. His left hand moved down and he drew lazy circles over your clit - enough to have you whimpering with need, but not enough to bring you to orgasm.

“I’m gonna fuck you just like this - slow and deep - until you feel like you’re gonna burst. I want you to come on me and fucking soak my cock like you did my hand. I want your cum to splatter all over this fucking deck. I want you to feel so much pleasure that you never want to look at another man.”

Your mind was hazy with lust, your hips moving to meet his thrusts. “Don’t want anyone but you, Steve. Make me feel so good.”

A small change in the angle of Steve’s thrusts had his cock rubbing over your g-spot the same way his fingers had earlier. The feeling of your orgasm building still felt strange, but at least you knew what to expect. You just didn’t know how you were going to stay silent, though.

He cruelly twisted one of your nipples just as he thrust forward and reedy warble left your throat. Steve responded by slapping your clit, and even as the sharp pain registered you heard the wet squelch as he did so, your squirt already starting to seep out of you as he continued his assault on your cunt.

“I said to stay quiet,” he hissed.

The pressure inside you was rising once more, and you knew you were close. “I don’t think I can,” you whined, and your body convulsed as he fucked into you. “I’m so close. Please, Steve. I… I…”

“Aawww, does my Babydoll need help?”

You bit your lip and nodded, unable to comprehend how he was going to do it. 

Steve took his left hand from your clit and trailed the back of his knuckles up your side, then settled it around the base of your throat. “Do you trust me, sweetheart?” His voice rumbled in your ear.

“Yes,” was your whispered response. You trusted him with your life.

“Then take over touching that pretty clit for me and just relax.”

You let go of the railing with your right hand and did as he asked, feeling how soaked you were as you started to play with your clit. As you started to crest higher, unable to hold back little pleasures squeaks, Steve resettled his left hand on your throat and began to lightly squeeze. Your noises stopped as your airway was constricted. Everything within you was concentrated on the feeling building in your cunt, and as black spots began to form in front of your eyes, your body began to tremble.

When Steve let go of your neck, your orgasm exploded out of you. His hand immediately clapped over your mouth, leaving you to breathe out your scream through your nose as you jerked on his cock like a puppet on a string. The gush of liquid that erupted from your cunt flooded over your hand and onto the deck like a waterfall.

“Fucking god,” Steve exclaimed, the movement of his hips finally speeding up as he chased his own release inside your spasming channel, adding his own cum to the sticky mess leaking from you. 

You collapsed against him, unsure how you were even still upright after that. Another whimper left you as Steve pulled himself from your body, but he immediately scooped you up in his arms and carried you inside, walked up the stairs, and placed your exhausted body on his bed. When he didn’t immediately lie down next to you, you blinked your eyes open. “Steve?”

“I’ll be right there, sweetheart,” he assured, and you watched as he pushed down his jeans and briefs. Your eyes widened when you realised they were sodden.

“Oh my god! Did I do that?”

Steve grinned as he climbed naked onto the bed and crawled over you. “You did and don’t you dare apologise. Whenever I wear them from now on I’ll think of you and how fucking sexy you are. Now you rest for a bit. I have more plans for you, and I need to make sure you get home at a plausible time.”

You pouted as you took in his words. This was the thing you really hated about your relationship - if you could call it that -, you couldn’t just curl up next to him and stay the night the way you wanted to. Would you ever be able to be open about your relationship, or was it doomed from the start?

However, your body was totally wrung out from Steve’s ministrations, and it wasn’t long until you fell into a doze, your body pressed up against his.

Steve looked down at you as you took your rest. You looked so innocent - so young - as you slept. He shouldn’t want you this much, but he did, even if he’d go to hell for it. He’d burn the world for you. 

When your mother had announced you were hoping to work for Walker Inc, it had taken all of his self control not to stand up and forbid it. Who was he to do so? Besides, it wasn’t your fault that Walker was a grade A ass-hole. 

Steve had no doubt that you’d ace the interview, so he’d just have to hope that the CEO didn’t notice you. If he did, the sleazeball would have no qualms about trying to take advantage of you. A little voice inside his head pointed out that he’d already done just that. He batted it aside. The difference was that he cared for you. Walker cared about nothing but himself.

You let out a sleepy little noise as you snuggled into his side and he turned back to you. He’d give you another half an hour, and then he was planning to feast on your messy pussy. That should wake you up with a smile. Then he’d watch you bounce on his cock, like the little dolly you were.

Tag list: @christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @wolfsmom1, @doasyoudesireandlive, @goldylions, @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989

[bucknastysbabe]

All my fics for my most favorite brainwashed amend making meowmeow babykins James Bucky Barnes

I have some older ones on my Ao3 linked in bio :) also more on the kink bingo tag

Tags: Smut🍆 || SFW💜|| Angst🟣|| Dead Dove👿|| Fluff🐼

Series:

40’s AU 🍆🐼

Can you handle that? Prequel

Walk your talk

My puppy is trained

God bless the inventor

Mirror, mirror

Star Wars AU

Through passion, I gain strength🟣🐼

II🍆🟣👿

Handler AU🍆🟣👿

Compliance Prequel

Praise Kink

Shadowplay

I think, therefore I am

I'm Your Man Epilogue

One-shots/Sequels:

18+ blurb🍆🟣🐼

Noble and Chaste🍆

From her to Eternity 🍆🟣👿

Big Softie 🍆🐼

Flirting With Death 🍆🟣

Tommy’s Party 💜🟣

Let the right one in 🍆🟣👿

What do they know? 🍆🐼

Oh Bucky you’re so fine 🍆

5+1 🟣🍆🐼

Candy🟣👿

Bayou Bonding 🍆🟣

Pretty please?🍆🐼

Take what you need🟣🍆🐼

Feral🟣🍆🐼

Subby buck blurb🍆

I knew he needed me🍆🐼

Let’s face the music and dance🟣🍆🐼

Poolside Blues🍆🟣🐼

Holiday Cheers

Kink Bingo:

Well. How did I get here?🍆🐼

Pegging🍆🐼

Praise kink under handler AU

[fortheloveoflatinum]

This Year's Christmas Fic - Now By Popular Demand

The title is only a *little* misleading, but hey, folx, it's not Christmas yet!

I will be writing my traditional yearly Garshir Christmas Fic - You can find the previous ones below:

2023's "The Present Plot"

2022's "Meet Me Under the Mistletoe"

And now you can help me decide what to write for this year's Christmas fic!

Let me know what you would like to see, folx. Ahem hopefully y'all decide to endorse my own (private/secret) choice - for I'll be voting, too, but only once! But let the people speak!

Caption of the GIF for all the Captains out there who can't view it: Garak waving away Dr. Bashir's incredulity about one of Garak's more illicit skills, saying, "It's... a hobby of mine."It depicts him from the waist up before he turns and walks away. It shows him being approximately 10 percent bitchy, 20 percent smug, 30 percent *done* with people underestimating him, and 40 percent reluctantly being a hero, but it's kind of clear from context clues that he's only doing it as a favor because it's for his dear doctor....

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Wet Dream" - Rated E

(gorgeous manip in the top frame of the banner made by the amazingly talented @kocuria)

Pairing: Bucky x Steve

Tags: Dom/sub au, age gap (20's/40's) , cock cages, orgasm delay/denial, m! rec. oral, submissive release, teasing, light humiliation, tiny!dick Steve, size kink, dumbification, subspace

Summary: Bucky's teased him for twelve days, and Steve's taken it beautifully, going down easier each night that he's denied and tucked away into his cage. It's no wonder he's started having wet dreams, humping the bedding without any self-control.

Bucky is drawn from sleep by a cadence of soft, breathy sounds. At first, he doesn’t realize what it is that’s woken him. He’s too busy yawning and shuddering through a big stretch, eyelids fluttering from the assault of sunlight streaming in through his east-facing bedroom windows. It isn’t until he’s lying there, rubbing the phantom ache from his left shoulder and reconsidering the purchase of blackout curtains like he does every morning, that he hears it:

A soft, pleasured little “oghn,” from Steve’s side of the bed.

Bucky’s eyes shoot open and he turns his head with an incredulous expression, thinking that Steve’s over there touching himself. But he isn’t awake, and Bucky feels his cock stir as he realizes that Steve isn’t touching himself.

Steve’s never been the type to brat in obvious ways—emphasis on “obvious,” because he does have his ways. And those behaviors usually get worse the more stressed out over something he is. These past few weeks have been busy and fast-paced. Steve’s work keeps loading new patients onto his already overfull plate, and Bucky’s got his three (soon to be four) businesses to run. That means a lot of time spent apart. But Bucky’s not neglectful. He’s been domming Steve in one of the only ways he has available to him when they get less than a single waking hour to spend together each day, for day after day after day: Denial.

Steve had accepted another tease and tuck last night with nothing more than a whimper and a sniffled, ‘yessir’, that’d made Bucky’s dick attempt a second coming, even after he’d already fucked a load between Steve’s tightly-clamped and oiled thighs.

No, Bucky thinks, watching his boy in the morning’s mote-specked sunshine. Steve isn’t touching himself; he’s dreaming.

He’s on his front, face turned towards Bucky on the pillow, pretty lashes fanned out against his cheeks while he dreams. He’s breathing open mouthed and moaning quietly, a concentrated little pinch lodged firmly between his eyebrows. It looks like he’s struggling to find completion even in his dreams.

“Mmm … nnn, unngh, mmm—”

Bucky chuckles. “Poor baby,” he murmurs, turning on his empty side to watch.

He’s always had a bit of a thing for touching his subs when they’re unable to resist, and sleep is no different than a bunch of well-tied jute, in that regard. In a lot of ways it’s even better, even more of a surrender. You can’t safeword when you’re unconscious, after all. It’s something you have to consent to while knowing full well how vulnerable you’ll be. How helpless. The sheer intimacy inherent in that level of trust is breathtakingly seductive to someone like Bucky.

Bucky wore an old Army tee shirt and some boxers to bed last night, but as a matter of protocol, Steve always sleeps naked. Bucky reaches over and trails a single finger down the muscled slope of his back, warm and firm, all the way down to his absolute peach of an ass. Not squeezing it is almost painful, but Bucky refrains anyway, not wanting the moment to end quite yet.

“My little blanket hog,” he whispers fondly. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Steve’s been humping the mattress, the blankets and sheets pulled over and bunched under his hips from a night’s worth of fitful sleeping. He’s squirming and moaning out the cutest, most helpless little noises, making Bucky want to eat him right up.

He turns away, because he’s gonna need arms for this.

He moves carefully to avoid waking Steve, reaching over the side of the bed to grab his prosthesis off the floor. It hums in recognition when he holds it up at the anchor site, snapping into place and all the plates giving a synchronized shiver as the system recalibrates.

He scoots over and puts his face right by Steve’s so that he can watch him wake, retracing with his flesh hand: down the slope of his back, across his sacrum, and between his cheeks. He traces over his hole and further down, to stroke fingertips absently against the plump stretch of his taint. Even that part of him is a little swollen, which makes Bucky’s heart squeeze and his dick ache at how much he knows his boy has taken from him in the past few days.

Willingly taken, Jesus. The thought of it just about does Bucky in.

He circles his fingers, using only the barest amount of pressure. Steve makes another quiet sound in his sleep, the touch obviously finding its way into whatever dream he’s having. Bucky smiles and reaches further between his legs to cup the velvety skin of his sac. His balls are warm and full, and Bucky tuts in sympathy. He lies next to him and kisses at his slack mouth while he wakes up. When Steve’s eyes finally flutter open, he looks lost for a moment.

Bucky hums. “Hey, Sugar. Looked like you were having some real sweet dreams, there.”

“Mmmh?” Steve shivers and sticks his ass back for more as he registers the hand between his legs. “M’yeah.” He sighs. “I was.” He starts moving his hips again, thrusting into the bunched sheets with more coordination and intent. “Nnn, fuck.”

Bucky pinches his inner thigh. “None of that, now. Only what I give you.”

Steve groans miserably, but after a second’s hesitation he does obey, rolling over to avoid the temptation of humping the bed any further.

Bucky slides one hand up to paw at the swell of his chest—massive, muscled, hairless—and nuzzles into his neck, inhaling the scent of Steve that’s so present after a night’s sleep. God, he loves it. “What were you dreaming about?” he asks between kisses to his neck. He hears Steve hum, feels one of his hands appear on his forearm to play along the dusting of hair there. Steve mumbles something unintelligible and lazy, probably having already let his eyes slip closed again. “Ah ah,” Bucky purrs. “Tell me.” It’s light, playful, laced with a hint of his Command to get Steve flustered.

“Mmm. Um …” Steve shudders as Bucky captures a nipple and rolls it between his fingers. “Buck, oh. Y-you.”

“Me?” Bucky chuckles. “What about me, huh?”

“Oh, I … unh, I dunno.”

He nips Steve’s neck, fingers pulse-pinching his nipple to the cadence of his words: “Uh-uh, Sleepy-head. Tell-me.”

“Mmm, was fuckin’ you,” Steve says, lazy smile playing at the edges of his mouth like he’s still dreaming it. “Only … you had a pussy?” He frowns and then giggles. “I dunno. Makes no sense. Like when you dream your dog as a cat, you know? And like, in the dream it’s a cat, but dream-you still knows it’s your dog?”

Bucky snorts. “I don’t know which is worse: the thought of you secretly being a cat person, or you secretly being straight.”

“Buck, you’re a cat pers—”

“Watch your mouth, boy,” he says, in his best Dom growl, eliciting another giggle from Steve.

“But you’ve got Alpine—"

“She’s a roommate, you little smartass.”

“Still uses a litterbox,” Steve grumbles.

Bucky ignores that and goes back to mouthing at his neck. “Anyway, now that I know how you really feel about pussies … and pussies—” Steve whines and smacks at his forearm, and Bucky grins against his skin. “Settle down, you. I’m just teasin’. Tell me more.”

“Mmn.” Steve pouts. “No.”

“‘No’?” Bucky says it warningly, letting his voice dip down into that dark and viscous register where it carries the extra weight needed to make Steve shiver pleasantly. He kisses the shell of his ear. “Want to try that again, sweetheart?”

“Nnn. I don’ remember anything else. Jus’ felt good.”

“And you were fucking me. And I had a pussy.” He lets his nail dig in at Steve’s nipple, grinning when it elicits another shiver. “Only pussy I see around here is between your legs, honey. Right behind that little thing you call a penis.”

“S’a dream,” Steve complains, blushing prettily at the jab to his cock (Bucky knows what his boy likes). “Doesn’t have’ta make sense.”

“Hm, you’re right. It sure doesn’t. But dreams can be telling sometimes.” Bucky stretches out alongside Steve’s big body, one foot hooked over his shin to keep his legs spread apart. “Look down and watch,” he murmurs. He waits until Steve has obeyed before he starts to slide his flesh hand down over that drool-worthy chest, those hardened abs, that flat belly framed by those thick obliques. All the way down to the place where silicon meets skin.

Steve’s still wearing the sweet mint green he went to bed in, though he’s got a whole slew of colors to choose from. A lot of internet shopping had happened, back when Bucky first became Steve’s keyholder. He’d found a site that would custom make any cage, any type, sized to fit; and then had a field day picking out all the pretty, soft pastel colors that the company offered. Just the fitting and the shopping and the trying-on had been exercises in the sort of delicate humiliation that Bucky knows Steve thrives on.

They’re not twenty-four-seven people, but when they do cage, they use rubber—some soft enough to give a good fondle through, others so sturdy that Bucky knows there’s no way Steve could ever dream about rubbing one out while locked. The custom fit is important, too. Most metal varieties of cock cages tend to be sized for more … endowed men, and Steve—to Bucky’s eternal delight—requires no such accommodation.

He closes his hand over Steve’s cock. “Whose is this?” he asks sweetly. “Mm?”

“Y-yours,” Steve breathes, licking his lips and staring down at Bucky’s hand. “Oh, ss’yours.”

“That’s right. And why did we decide that, hm? Can you remember that for me, big guy?”

It takes Steve several tries before he manages to stutter out a breathy, “I–I–I touch it. I t-touch it too much.”

Bucky hums in approval. “And I give you your pretty cages to help you with that, don’t I?”

“Yessir.”

“Help keep this sweet prick from getting too excited. Cause that’s when it starts getting big ideas, getting confused about what it’s for.”

Again, Steve nods distractedly, all of his attention down at the place where Bucky’s cradling his junk. “Th-thank you, Sir,” he whispers unprompted, grateful to Bucky, even after night after night of teasing and denial.

Bucky’s lips curl and his heart pretty much melts. Fuck, does he ever love this kid. “You’re welcome, baby. But then, are you supposed to be stimulating yourself in your cage?”

Steve sniffles and shakes his head. “Mm mn.”

Bucky tuts sympathetically. “It’s my fault. I thought you could handle the softer cage for bedtime. But that just lets you feel too good when you start squirming around in your sleep, huh? And once you get going, it’s real hard for you to stop.” Between Steve’s legs, he gives his handful a jostle. “S’okay. You know I don’t blame you for any of that. This big, dumb body’s got a lot of urges, that’s all.” He pecks a kiss to Steve’s ear and whispers, “You were humping the bed so much, puppy.” He snickers when this gets a mortified whine out of Steve. He tries to close his legs, but Bucky’s foot hooked over his shin prevents it. “Ah ah. Shhh. No need for that, pup. It was real pretty, I promise. I love watching you have wet dreams.” When he says the words ‘wet dreams’, he presses against the soft tip of the cage, dipping inside the hole with the edge of his thumb.

Steve’s breath hitches as it touches his slit. “Oh …”

“Mm. And it was a wet dream, wasn’t it?” Bucky draws his thumb away, a glistening thread of precum connecting it to the cage. “Lookit you. You’re leaking, honey.”

“Bucky.”

He lets go, sliding his hand up to rub over Steve’s pubic bone, just above where he knows he really wants it. His hips jump and shudder, a sad noise escaping him at the loss of the touch on his caged dick. “So,” Bucky says, amused. “You’re dreaming about fucking your Sir’s pussy. That’s an interesting one, especially since we both know you haven’t wormed that bitty clitty into a pussy in so long. Are you sure it even remembers how?”

“Oh.” Steve’s obvious embarrassment makes him beautiful. The pink flush that began on his face is now creeping steadily down his neck. Soon it’ll be to his shoulders, then his chest, and Bucky loves when Steve gives him a full-tit blush.

He trails his fingers lazily over the space between Steve’s belly button and his cock, watching the way all the fine muscles in his lower belly quiver as he tries to hold still. Inside the cage, his cock gives a noticeable twitch. “You’re real worked up this morning, huh?”

“S-sir,” Steve agrees, nodding, wetting his lips and glancing at Bucky’s face hopefully. “Please. Please.”

Bucky chuckles. He loves to see Steve so frustrated, and deep down, Steve loves to feel that way. It’s one of the best ways to help him go down. He’s on his way now. The lack of language is one hint, but if Bucky needed another, it’s right there on his face. One good look in his eyes, and Bucky knows they’re getting close. All that blue, thinned down to nothing but slivers, pupils eating up his irises as his brain prepares for the dump. He just needs more of a push.

Bucky turns further into him, giving him a bit more of his weight, more of his leg slotted between his thighs. Steve tries to hump him, but Bucky pulls back each time until Steve whimpers and the behavior stops. “Shhh,” he soothes, dipping down to kiss him. He’s soft but insistent, inviting himself inside and taking his own sweet time about it, really relishing the feel of their mouths slotted together, the press and play of their lips. And Steve’s like a goddamn stick of butter: melts at body temp, spreads like a dream.

“I wanna take you down, sweetheart,” Bucky tells him quietly. “That sound good to you?” Steve gives a dumb little ‘uh huh’ of a moan, nodding eagerly. Bucky smiles and nips his lip. “Hey now, I might keep you there for a while, maybe all afternoon.” He’s not asking so much as informing, but he knows that Steve is capable of speaking up for himself when needed—even when he’s on the precipice of losing his few remaining brain cells like he’s about to do right now.

Today is Steve’s first day off in almost fourteen, and even though Bucky has opinions on that, he’s still gonna grab some iota of consent, because he doesn’t want to hear his sub bitching about a wasted Sunday six hours down the line. “Not gonna make you do anything but feel,” he promises softly, brushing their lips together. “Alright sweetheart? Does that sound like fun?”

Steve exhales shakily, nodding. “Yes Sir.”

“Ooh, ‘Sir’. Somebody’s tryin’ to start the day out in my good graces.”

“Mmyeah.”

Bucky chuckles and goes back to kissing his neck and playing with his nipples. He pinches and rolls them, one and then the other, until they’re drawn into tight, sensitive peaks. “Do you need to cum, Stevie?” He hears Steve’s heavy swallow pass through his throat and feels him nodding his head.

“Uh huh.”

“Hmm. Yeah, you must be aching by now. This big ol’ body of yours. It just needs to cum all the time, doesn’t it?”

Steve whimpers and nods again, sighing out a shaky little ‘yeah’ that Bucky absolutely loves.

He loves everything about Steve, of course, but there’s just something so special about how he gets when he’s been denied for a while. He gets so desperate for it, so helpless in his need for physical release. Ultra-focused and yet dumbed down by it at the very same time. There’s nothing in the world like a six. Someone who actually needs what Bucky has to give. At this point, he’s quite sure that Steve’s ruined him for anyone else in the future.

That doesn’t exactly matter though, because—unbeknownst to Steve—Bucky’s got about sixty thousand dollars worth of forever hiding in the back of his watch drawer, just waiting for the right time.

He hovers over Steve and gives him a kiss, slow and coaxing, licking at the seam of his lips to get into the heat of him. Steve lets him in, of course, and Bucky curls his fingers into the give of his waist in an approving squeeze. He pulls back and looks down. Steve’s dazed, blue eyes blink upwards, his lips still parted, a flush high up on his cheeks. He looks made of sunlight, so precious. Bucky smiles softly. “Alright, Angel. How many days has it been?”

“... Since?” Steve keys into his tone of voice and perks up. He starts to look hopeful, and when Bucky waggles his eyebrows at him, he exhales in a rush, a smile breaking out over his face. “Twelve,” he says. “Fuck, thank you. Twelve!”

Bucky snickers and rolls over to grab the key from its spot on the bedside table. When he comes back, he sits between Steve’s spread legs and pulls him down in the bed, until his thighs are draped over Bucky’s knees and his ass is all but in his lap. He unlocks the cage and removes it gently, setting the pieces aside. Steve’s dick is already reacting, soft but thickened, the head fattening up underneath the foreskin.

Bucky pushes it up against his belly, thumb dipping down to trace along the seam of his heavy balls. “Look at these puppies,” he murmurs. “So full. Are they full, baby?”

The muscles in Steve’s thighs keep flexing as he fights not to squirm. “Y-yeah.”

“Mmm.” Bucky holds one testicle between his fingers and rolls it, massaging gently and teasing, “More balls than cock on you—ain’t that just perfectly fitting for a stubborn little hothead like you?”

“Buck,”

“Tell me how they feel,” he purrs, his Command laced through the words just enough to help Steve sink a little more.

“Th-they feel … heavy,” Steve whispers. “Hot n’ … n’ tight.”

“I’ll bet. Twelve whole days since you’ve busted a nut.” Steve whimpers and Bucky tickles the plump stretch of skin behind his balls. “And how long since I really wrang out your prostate good and proper?”

“Oh. Uh, um …” his throat bobs and his eyes slip shut as Bucky pets him. “Uhm … m-maybe three?”

“Three weeks.” Bucky whistles lowly and cups his taint. “No wonder you look swollen back here, boy.”

He can’t deny that he isn’t a complete letch of an old man, because he loves to see Steve blush (or in this case, blush harder) at being called “boy”—as if Bucky’s a full fledged man and Steve is only halfway there. It’s a stretch, but there are things that’ve been further from the truth.

“Aand,” he angles his fingers in. “What about release?”

A little wrinkle of concentration appears between Steve’s eyebrows as he tries to generate useful thought in his brain. It’s adorable. “I … I don’t kno—oh!”

“Don’t know?” Bucky simpers. He’s curled his fingers in behind Steve’s balls, pressing to get at that vulnerable spot that can sometimes trigger his releases. It won’t right now. He hasn't sunk enough for it yet. “Don’t lie to your Dom, Sweetiepie. You’re really tryin’ to tell me you don’t remember the last time you went all soft n’ useless for me? The last time you went ass up n’ wet all over yourself?” He hushes Steve’s embarrassed keen, leaning over to give him a quick kiss. “That’s okay, Stevie. I remember. I remember all of ‘em.”

Release isn’t something Bucky’d encountered in a partner before Steve. Not every sub has them, and it’s not something they can control. A rush of spasms and body fluids, dump of brain chemicals twice as strong as those brought on by typical subdrop. Such a deep response only really happens for sixes—Maybe some fives, if they’re with the right dom. It is … intensely private; something people tend to either fetishize, or else weirdly disdain.

Steve’s always been embarrassed of his, but that’s something Bucky’s been working to break him of. There is nothing more arousing, more primal, more flattering, than having a sub’s body signal submission in that way. Bucky had shot up to the freakin’ stratosphere of domspace the first time it’d happened, unused to the stimulus. He’d been useless for a bit, and it was just lucky that they’d been in a club at the time. The DM had stepped in and taken care of Steve until Bucky was capable again.

“It’s been just about five weeks since you gave me one,” he says, anticipating the distressed whimper that comes out of Steve. He rubs over his lower belly soothingly. “I know, I know. S’been too long, huh big guy? All that pressure building up. You know what the doctor said.”

“Buck,”

“But you’re always at work, Sweetheart. Hell, I feel like I haven’t seen you in days. I barely have.”

“M’right here, jerk.”

Bucky pinches his inner thigh, but there’s little heat to it, just the familiar griping of their relationship. He’s been on Steve for months to find a less demanding job. Steve doesn’t get paid enough and the people at his work take advantage of his good nature. (Bucky had figured out, very early on in their contract, that Steve was one of those subs who pushed themselves too hard in their professional endeavors, and then needed to have the resultant stress dommed out of them.)

Bucky grumps, “You don’t listen to your Sir when he tells you to set boundaries, to clock out on time, to come home.” He plays idly with Steve’s cock and balls as he scolds him, pinching lightly here and there. “How am I s’posed to take care of you proper?”

“Mmn … n-not my fault,” Steve slurs. His eyes are closed and the curl of his mouth looks none too chastised. “S’still work. Somebody’s gotta help the patients, n’ I still gotta—”

Bucky flicks his balls. “It’s still bratting. Don’t think I don’t see right through you, Rogers. Like you don’t have twenty coworkers who could pick up that slack if you refused to.Excuses.”

Steve’s insistence on doing the right thing has always been his own little way of shirking authority, of misbehaving until it gets him what he really needs: someone to step up and put him in his place. Bucky has—exasperatedly but enthusiastically—been filling that role for the past eighteen months. He knows Steve’s needs like he knows his own, and he knows his body almost better than his own.

That’s why he’s let him out of the cage and why he’s all but got Steve’s ass in his lap right now. It’s not so much that Steve needs an orgasm, but that he needs to be dropped good and thorough, a milking, maybe even a full release, if Bucky can manage to work one out of him. Steve’s body doesn’t like to give those up, and it’s less predictable.

“I miss you, honey,” Bucky coos at him. Other than some shallow bossing around at bedtime, he hasn’t had any opportunity to care for his boy these past few weeks (and seriously: fuck the underfunded and stretched thin structure of the V.A.). “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he says quietly, squeezing Steve’s inner thigh muscles deeply. “You listening?”

“Yes Sir,” Steve whispers.

“I’m gonna touch you, play with you a bit. Make you feel good.”

“Cum?” Steve asks hopefully, and Bucky snickers.

“Edge,” he says, giving Steve another pinch when he wiggles and whines. “Hush, now. I told you: I want to play with you for a while. I’m gonna get you so worked up, baby.”

“Hurts,” Steve whimpers, moping over it. “Bucky.”

“Shh.” Bucky tickles his sac. “Yeah, it’ll ache, but I’ll drop you so good that you won’t even be in your body to feel it, after a while.” Though there’s a great deal of intersection, the things that bring the best sexual climaxes aren’t always the same as the things that bring the best sexual submissions. Bucky watches as a pleased shiver runs through Steve’s body at the promise of a good drop. They both know which of the two is more important for someone like Steve. On the bed in front of him, Steve visibly starts to relax a little more. Bucky smiles and massages his thighs. “Mmhm, that’s it. It’s been hard for you lately, hasn’t it?”

“Mmm. Buck. Yeah. … Been so—mmm—so stressed.”

Bucky coos and rubs up along either side of his pelvis, digging his thumbs in at the crease of his groin. “You gonna try and go down easy for me this time?”

“Please,” Steve whimpers sadly. “Buck, I do. I’m … I want to.”

“Shh sh sh. I know, honey. I know you do. And you know you’re my good boy. Always.”

It’s often hard for Steve to get past the barrier of his natural stubbornness, to let himself go soft enough to shed that shallow, false dominance he wears around like a shield. It’s people like Steve that Bucky designed his clubs for: high level doms and subs who aren’t partnered and want to get their kicks met somewhere safe, sexy, and affordable.

Steve was assessed high needs in middle school, and while general designation is socially common knowledge after puberty, one’s level within that designation is not. One through six, or switch. Your doctor knows, your parents know, you tell your boyfriend or girlfriend, maybe a few close platonic friends—more people, if you’re typical. But people who are high needs don’t tend to go around bragging about it. Bucky knows firsthand the awkwardness of having to explain to someone new that you fall on the far end of the spectrum, just like he knows that he’s one of only a few people with whom Steve has ever entrusted his status as a six.

Bucky pets his skin and feeds him quiet rumbles and purrs, compliments and directions, calling him beautiful and giving him easily obtainable goals, most of them simple orders to hold still in one way or another. “Keep your eyes closed,” he murmurs. “Just focus on me touching you. Isn’t that nice? Yeah Sweetheart, I know, I know.”

Steve is a gorgeous human being who tends to turn heads wherever he goes. He’s young (27) and beautiful, and if Bucky weren’t so confident in his own masculinity at his advancing age (41), he might actually be in danger of developing a complex. Because Steve is the one whom most people notice first when the two of them walk into a room together. His size draws the eye and his features keep the interest, with his Botticelli face and the type of body that few people are willing to work hard enough for. He really does look cut from marble, muscular and strong and textbook attractive. Steve’s is a beauty that pretty much smacks you in the face. And the absolute sweetest part of it all, is that he really doesn’t seem to be aware of it. A big, sweet, dumb blond.

Now how was Bucky ever supposed to not eat a boy like that up?

And then there’s the pièce de résistance: the fact that between his legs, Steve is small. Not tragically so, but compared to the rest of him it’s a striking difference. He’s got this surprisingly little dick nestled between his beefy thighs, hooded and delicate, propped against the generous pillow of his balls. Whenever Bucky sees his gorgeous juxtaposition of a body all laid out on a bed like this, he can’t help but feel like the man was made just for him.

Especially that sweet little cock.

He groans under his breath as he touches it, letting his fingertips drag over the soft skin. “Spread those legs a little wider for me, doll.”

Steve complies, hips flexing and scooching his butt down the bed another inch.

Under Bucky’s scrutiny and his glancing touches, Steve’s little dick twitches and jerks with interest. “Heere it comes,” Bucky murmurs, taking it between his fingers and stroking at the tip, working the little wrinkle of foreskin where it still covers the head. He dips his thumb inside and swirls it around, circling the tip of the glans. It’s all slick and gliding from the precum he’s already giving up, and Bucky rumbles, pleased. “Well lookit that. You always wet up so easy for me, dontcha baby?”

“Fuhh-ck,” Steve slurs. “Buckee.”

He’s been going down easier with each day that Bucky continues to deny him, the surrender of giving up his sexual pleasure turning him into the kind of soft and pliant sub that Bucky’s always known he could be. It just takes a little extra coaxing for Steve, a little extra time, his big body and stubborn brain fighting the process harder (and needing it more) than most people Bucky’s dated in the past. Being with Steve has, without doubt, made Bucky a better dom.

Steve’s prick slowly thickens in Bucky’s hand, even though Bucky’s barely touching him. “Well look at you, big guy,” he purrs. “Fattening up real nice for me, aren’t you?”

Steve whines and squirms in pleasure, and Bucky teases him a little more with his words and his hands, telling him how pretty his little dick is, how cute. Bucky loves humiliating Steve over his size—both his “big dumb body” and his “pretty little prick.” Of course, it’s always that special brand of sweet and tender humiliation that they have between them, anything rougher than that being outside of Steve’s limits. Bucky’s boy is so sensitive, needs to be handled so gently. Gently, but firmly. And even with all the teasing, Bucky’s always gone to great lengths to make sure Steve knows what an absolute dream he is.

“Thought I told you to close your eyes,” he chides, when he looks up and sees Steve peeking at him. Steve makes a cute little squeak of a sound and his eyes slip shut, and Bucky smiles. “Thatta boy.” He starts to stroke him off lightly, only using his two fingers and thumb to work the foreskin in a gentle motion. Steve inhales deeply and his cock fills out the rest of the way. “There you go,” Bucky murmurs. Completely hard like this, Steve’s a little more than half Bucky’s size. “So pretty, honey.”

Underneath his boxers, Bucky’s own dick is chubbed up and eager for more, but he ignores it. He’s got plans for himself later. Smoothing his metal hand over Steve’s belly, he jerks him off slowly but steadily, until the foreskin is drawn down and the shiny pink head of him peeks through on each stroke, precum getting on Bucky’s fingers and making everything nice and wet. “Tell me when you’re close,” he whispers, and a few minutes later Steve’s whispering back,

“Close—oh,”

“Shhh.” Bucky lets go of his dick and rubs his inner thighs to get him to calm down, watching the bob of his Adam’s apple and the shine of those lips that he’s licked and bitten pink. His blond hair is all rumpled from sleep and his skin is golden in the stream of morning sunlight coming through the bedroom windows. He’s so incredibly, painfully beautiful; looks like a flipping Greek god, an Adonic youth, a spoil of war. Steve arouses in Bucky every instinct he’s ever had to take and dominate and own. Sometimes he really wonders what an old asshole like him did to earn such a perfect boy.

“Love you, Stevie,” he murmurs, going back to stroking him. “Being so good. Remember, you just tell me when. That’s your only job right now. That’s all you have to do. Don’t gotta think or worry about aanything else.” Steve seems to melt into the bedcovers at hearing this, which is, of course, the entire point. Bucky knows exactly how to talk to his boy to bring him down into the absolute best headspace. “Good,” he praises lowly. “So good for your Dom, sweetheart. So sweet to let me play with this little cock however I want.”

The second peak comes quickly, and even Steve seems surprised by it when he manages to choke out a quiet little “... close,” after only a few seconds.

He lasts a little bit longer on the third. Bucky keeps his grip very light and gets a few full minutes of stroking in before Steve’s breathing picks up and he gasps out another “close!”

Bucky lets go, humming his approval for Steve to hear and rubbing the crest of his groin on either side, all over his waxed-smooth pubic mound and the place where his thighs meet his body. “Suuch a good boy.” He watches Steve recover, face pinked after the difficulty of that third edge, the swell of his chest rising and falling as he regains his breath.

And fuck, those tits. They’re big and beefy, heaving and flushed and just barely starting to shine from perspiration. Bucky can’t keep himself from touching, leaning forward to grope each thick pec, and then pinch and pluck at his nipples. He’s so swollen and puffy there, looks like he just came from benching two-fifty at the gym. Bucky lets his nails drag down the right side as he pulls back. “You’re doing beautifully,” he praises, even though they’ve barely started the edging. It isn’t uncommon for Bucky to bring Steve close and back him off from orgasm dozens of times in one session. He doesn’t plan to keep this going too much longer, though. He just wants to get him to cry a little before they get up to start their day.

He starts stroking again, still using those same, easy touches; gentle and gliding. When Steve utters his next, “close,” Bucky stops stroking but doesn’t remove his hand, letting Steve’s cock rest, wet and throbbing, inside the loose curl of his fist. He tuts and fondles him while they wait. “Ooh, honey. I could feel that one.” He gently traces the vein on the underside, up to the frenulum and his drawn down foreskin. He eases it back up over the head, and even hard like this, it almost covers him. Bucky thumbs over it, smearing the next blurt of precum around. “So pretty,” he murmurs.

“Please, Sir.” Steve’s voice sticks a little bit in his mouth, like he needs a drink of water, and he licks his lips before he says again, “Please, lemme cum.”

Bucky hums as if he’s actually considering it (he isn’t). “Maybe,” he purrs. He lets go of his cock and strokes his balls instead, one hand holding the full weight of his sac while the other feathers light touches over the delicate skin. Steve’s got big, tight balls that always look plump and pulled up close to his body, but especially so when he’s been deprived of an orgasm for a few days. And right now, they’re coming up on twelve days. “Just think,” Bucky murmurs, “think of all the cum that’s backed up in here right now. Cause you cum a lot, Stevie, don’t you?”

Steve whimpers and gives a sad little nod.

Bucky grins and makes a mocking sound of pity. “Yeah, poor baby. They must be sore, huh? So full, so hot and tight. Are they, Honey? All hot n’ tight?”

“Please, yes, please.”

“Just aching to get some release.” He circles lazily around the shape of his balls underneath the skin, one side and then the other. “And you want to cum so bad. I don’t blame you.” He titters and lets go of his sac, because that’s a major erogenous zone for Steve, and Bucky knows he can’t handle having his dick stroked and his balls played with at the same time without going off. “It’s not healthy,” he teases, mock sympathy in his voice as he starts gently stroking him off again. “A boy your age not not gettin’ a good nut out on the regular. If not a couple times a day, then at least once every other day.” Steve whimpers and Bucky grins evilly and pretends to forget. “How many days has it been, again?”

“Twuh–twelve, ssir,”

Bucky sucks his teeth sympathetically. “Oh, that’s right. Twelve. Hmm.” Abruptly, he starts to jerk him off a little harder than he has been doing, giving him more pressure, rubbing at the underside of the head on each upstroke. Steve’s breathing hitches and he tenses up like he thinks this is going to be it: he’s finally going to get to come.

Bucky slows back down to almost nothing, grip loose once again, and Steve makes a sound like a dying cat. Bucky, who lives for getting sounds like that out of Steve, all but purrs in pleasure, feeling high. “I want you to know,” he says, slowly and delicately, making the words into hushed, sweet and deadly things, “that I’m not gonna let you cum this morning.”

He soaks up the devastated little shudder that travels throughout Steve’s body as he processes that, the way his brow gets a disbelieving little pinch in it and then smoothes out with dawning realization that Bucky means what he says. The fight his body wages with his mind to accept it. “Nngh,” he whimpers pitifully. “Puh–please.”

“No, baby.”

“Please, please. Please …” He’s not really begging, is the thing. He tosses his head and fists the sheets, repeating the ‘please’ several times over, helpless and mournful. It’s his way of surrendering to it, his way of accepting what his dominant wants for him, what his dominant is doing to him. The second that Steve accepts that he’s feeling so good and that he’s not going to be given the relief he wants, that Bucky is going to be the one to decide, is the second he really, visibly tips into subspace. “Ohhgn …”

Bucky’s cock throbs angrily as he watches it happen. One second Steve is tense, and the next second he’s just … not. Goosebumps pop up all along his arms and legs, his body going unnaturally still for a few seconds, before it shivers loose into a pile of molten Steve on the bed. Bucky leans forward to cup his cheek, smiling when Steve presses his face into it. “That’s a good boy,” he murmurs fondly. “Juust like that.”

Steve sobs—just once, just a tiny hitch in his breath—and tears well up at the corners of his eyes. One of them breaks and rolls down and hits Bucky’s metal finger, and that’s about the exact moment when Bucky hits domspace.

People say you shouldn’t compare domspace to doing drugs, but Bucky’s done some drugs, and he knows it is exactly like being high. The best high you ever had, but sexual, and focused. Bucky feels charged and euphoric, completely zeroed into his sub and his reactions. He thumbs away Steve’s tears and gets his flesh hand back on his dick, feeling elated. “Okay sweetheart,” he murmurs. “Tell me when you’re ready for another.”

Steve whimpers, and they get back to it.

Steve is a useless mess by the time ten rolls around, and after number fifteen Bucky starts to worry that Steve won’t remember to verbalize when he’s close. Not because he’s trying to disobey, but because he’s just so far under. Wanting to end things on a good note, Bucky stops edging him after they narrowly avert crisis at sixteen, Steve’s face red and covered in tears, his body shaking while he cries. Bucky lies out on top of him and kisses him all over his face and neck and shoulders until he’s calmed down some.

Steve is still in his head, very dumb and pliant and happy, even once his cock goes soft. Bucky, buzzing with his own high, proceeds to take care of his boy in all the other ways that also matter. He feeds Steve water and a piece of chocolate straight from his tongue, puts him in the shower and washes him. He bends him over the bed and lubes him up and plugs him with the big, squishy day plug.

He has Steve lie on his back with his head out over the edge of the mattress and softly feeds him his cock. "Take it ... there you go ... jus' like that, oh ... good boy." Steve's gag reflex, normally just as stubborn as the rest of him, always goes dormant when he's down; his mind turning into soft, sticky molasses, and his body following suit. He goes lax and soft, easily accepting Bucky's thick cockhead past his parted lips, over his tongue and soft palate. His throat even feels relaxed when Bucky presses all the way in, his balls smushing against Steve's face and his hand gently massaging the front of his neck. "Takin' me so good, doll," Bucky praises, and he softly fucks his face in measured thrusts until he feels his orgasm coalesce at the base of his spine, down into his balls, pulling up into his core, electric and hot. "Oh yeah," he groans quietly, sighing as he comes down his boy's throat. Steve takes it like a champ, and Bucky pulls out and holds his jaw shut, petting him soothingly. “Shhh. Swallow it now, baby. Lemme see that throat working.”

Steve does. Bucky collapses onto the bed next to him and lies there, toying with Steve’s tight and full balls until he feels himself come back down a bit from domspace. “How you doing, babe?” he says from down by Steve’s shins.

“Mmm.”

“Still down?”

“Hhhn.”

Bucky chuckles and pats the top of Steve’s thigh. “Okay big guy. Okay.” He heaves himself up to go and find some sweats to throw on. They've got a nice, long, relaxing day ahead of them, and he's really looking forward to it.

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