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#mid rise shorts
todayisafridaynight · 1 month
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Shadow the hedgehog cartoon announcement sorry everyone im gonna hermit away four months in advanced so i can be optimally annoying when they talk about it
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thebirdandhersong · 2 months
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low rise jeans - oh, my eyes
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thelastspeecher · 1 year
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I'm rewatching American Dragon: Jake Long bc I'm an adult and I do what I want and I got to the "Homecoming" episode and had to pause near the end to rant incoherently to my roommate about how the show was ahead of its time and belongs in the echelons of such shows as Gravity Falls, Amphibia, and Star vs The Forces of Evil
yes I WILL die on this hill
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Pro Dri-FIT Indy Sports Bra & Pro Dri-Fit Mid-Rise 3" Graphic Training Shorts in Red from Nike (n/a)
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everyfandom72 · 3 months
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Art wall 😂
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karinyosa · 11 months
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so i shaved my head on my bday and i am planning to grow it out for as long as i can until i don't like it anymore, kind of just to see how i feel about Every possible hair length. i haven't had long hair in a while and i have to say i'm excited to have it again because i remember it like a medium size animal that sat on my back or perhaps a pelt
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ceeproductions · 8 months
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Beat the Heat Collection
I know it's already Fall lmao. Originally planned for a June release, here is The Beat the Heat Collection consisting of 21 Summer (yet still versatile) inspired pieces. It's Summer somewhere!
General Info: 
• 4 Hairs • 4 Tops • 5 Bottoms  • 2 Shoes • 4 Accessories • All are Base Game Compatible 
• Twitter | Youtube | Instagram | Twitch | TikTok
Cali Waves
My first attempt at strands! 2 Versions (Strands and No Strands) • 24 Swatches  • T-E; Masc Frame • NOT hat compatible  • All maps, Lods
7.9k | 3.4k poly
Credit: Gradients by @simandy, @aharris00britney, @qwertysims, @marsosims 
Chance Braids
Been wanting to make these for a while and this is the result • 24 Swatches  • T-E; Masc Frame • Hat compatible  • Spec and Normal map, Lods • Bead Accessories found in Left Lip Ring - 25 Swatches
13.6k poly | Beads are 3.5k poly
Credit: Gradients by @simandy, @aharris00britney, @qwertysims, @marsosims and @qicc for the braid mesh
Scarf Hair
• 24 Swatches  • T-E; Masc Frame • NOT hat compatible  • Spec and Normal maps; Lods • Scarf Overlay found in Left Index Finger - 45 Swatches
2.8k poly
Credit: Gradients by @simandy, @aharris00britney, @qwertysims, @marsosims
Tank Top
a Summer staple!
• 8 Swatches • Masc Frame ; T-E • All maps ; LODs
3k Poly
Credit: @synthsims Ribbed Bod-E Tank
Heavyweight Tee
More tees yipee! 3 versions- Loose, Tucked and Sleeveless
• 15 Swatches • Masc Frame ; T-E • All maps ; LODs
3.6k | 3.5k | 3.5k Poly
Low Rise Fringe Hem Shorts
These shorts put me through the ringer but love the way they turned out!
• 14 Swatches • Masc Frame ; T-E • All maps ; LODs
1.1k Poly
Credit: @liliilisims Half pants | @ridgeport classic jeans | @xldkx for always being willing to help out. without them, this would not be possible
7' Denim Shorts
more bottoms with exposed boxers!
• 16 Swatches • Masc Frame ; T-E • All maps ; LODs
1k Poly
Mid-Rise Pleated Trousers
2 versions cause we love options here- Baggy and Fitted
• 11 Swatches • Masc Frame ; T-E • All maps ; LODs
1.3k | 1.7k Poly
Credit: @captainstreasure Drake trousers
Parachute Pants
My attempt at some parachute pants and I think they came out ok!
• 17 Swatches • Masc Frame ; T-E • All maps ; LODs
2.6k Poly
Credit: @liliilisims Keely Skirt
Crew Socks
a conversion and slight edit
• 70 Swatches • Masc Frame ; T-E • Spec and Normal maps ; LODs
448 Poly
Credit: @liliilisims Gillian Socks
Birkenstock Arizona EVA
I love creating items I own in real life. 2 versions- Socks and No socks
• 25 Swatches • Masc Frame ; T-E • Spec and Normal maps; LODs • Sock Overlay Found in Socks - 25 Swatches
13.8k | 9.9k Poly
Credit: @dallasgirl79 Birkenstocks | @magic-bot Feet V7 and Socks
Scarf Accessory
a hat version of the scarf to be used on other hairs. Will most likely be clipping depending on the hair, meant to be paired with short cuts
• 45 Swatches • Masc Frame ; T-E • All maps; LODs • Found in Hats
1.1k Poly
Fitted with Headphones
ya'll. My all-time favorite piece. Yes, the hat and headphones come together and function as a hat so you can wear it with any hair that has hat chops!!!
• 15 Swatches • Masc Frame ; T-E • Spec and Normal maps; LODs
2.5k Poly
Credit: @joliebean Joliepods
As always, let me know if you run into any issues and I'll do my best to fix it
Download: Patreon (Free!) | ALT (Google Drive) | SFS
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mariasont · 1 month
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Tie a Tie - S.R
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a/n: i'm a slut for a good tie
masterlist
₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader
summary: you ask spencer to teach you how to tie a tie
warnings: cuties being cute!
wc: 1.2k
"How do you tie a tie?" 
The question and the voice attached to it made Spencer do a double take, his pencil pausing mid-stroke. He directed he gaze upward, and there you were. Beside his desk. Looking angelic as ever.
Today, your hair was embellished with ribbons, pretty pink bows tied neatly above your two braids. It was cute.
You hardly visited at his desk, in fact, this might be the first time. He had always been the one to seek you out at your receptionist desk.
He realized the lapse in conversation had gone on longer than what social norms dictate. He cleared his throat and reached up to rub his neck, offering you sheepish yet attentive look. 
"Do I have something on my face?" The question came with an uncharacteristic frown that didn't suit you. A shimmering nail reached up, brushing your cheek as he fought the urge to replace your hand with his.
"No, no sorry," he assured quickly, a sense of equilibrium returning as your mouth flipped into a bright smile. "Just--, you want to know how to tie a tie?"
His intention wasn't to question you, but he was curious. What did you need to know how to tie a tie for? The answer seemed clear, yet unwelcome, as he begrudgingly considered the possibility of a significant other in your life, leaving a sour taste in his mouth.
"Yes," you affirmed, nodding like one of those dashboard bobbleheads, sending your ribbons dancing. "There's this outfit on Pinterest that I wanted to recreate, but it needs a tie, and well, I immediately thought of you, Dr. Reid. You're the tie expert, after all. I know you're super busy, so it's totally okay if now isn't a good time, but maybe you could text me? Or write it down, or--" 
The tension dissipated from his frame, and he interjected with a soft smile. "Yeah, no problem at all. I'll teach you," he said, rising to grab an empty chair. He placed it opposite his, motioning for you to take a seat. "And please, It's Spencer."
He doesn't know how many times he's told you that Dr. Reid sounded too formal coming from you. 
"Oh, right, Spencer." They way his name rolled off your tongue sent a wave of warmth through him. You bit your lip, crossing one leg over the other, the tip of your kitten heel brushing his calve in the process. "Thank you so much. I tried to watch YouTube tutorials, but it wasn't really working out."
"It's no problem," he said, trying to keep his cool as his surveyed the vacant office, immensely grateful the team was out on a case, and he was left behind to work on documents. 
It wasn't that he was embarrassed by you, he would be an idiot to feel that way. He was embarrassed by how utterly out of control he felt around you. "Uh, here--"
His hands moved with practiced ease, a brief hesitation passing before he placed it around your neck. Your smile was disarming, compelling him to avert his gaze to prevent any impulsive actions. Gently, he swept your hair aside at the nape of your neck, careful not to entangle it with the fabric.
Spencer's fingers stalled, suspended over the smooth silk encircling you. The awareness of your focused gaze was palpable, almost tangible.
"Okay," he started, his tone even despite the butterflies attacking at his stomach. "The first thing you need to do is cross the long end over the short end, like this."
He illustrated the motion, his hands lightly skimming over your collarbone, eliciting a soft giggle from the unexpected tickle.
"Like this?" you repeated, your tongue making a brief appearance against your pink stained lips, trying to follow his lead.
"Exactly," he confirmed with a nod, smile inching across his face. "Now you bring the long end up through the loop around your neck."
His touch was light on the fabric, his fingertips just grazing the skin below your ear, a reaction visible in the slight shiver that traveled over you, goosebumps taking over. 
You watched his every move, your head tilting to the side, a lock of hair falling into your face. "And then?"
"Now, you fold it down through the knot you've just made." Spencer's voice was soft, almost a whisper, as he focused on the task at hand. "Pull it all the way though, and then adjust the tightness by holding the short end and sliding the knot up."
With his guidance, you managed to complete the knot. "I did it!"
The excitement in your eyes was infectious, and he felt the rosy hue take over his face, a blush he couldn't contain at the sight of you. His laughter spilled out in response.
"You're a quick learner." His hands remained on the tie, a touch too long, maybe. 
The intrusive ring of his phone fractured the moment, like a glass dropping on hard ground. He glanced at the caller ID--Hotch, of course--and sighed.
"Sorry, I have to take this."
"It's okay. Thank you for the help, Spencer."
--
Spencer almost died the moment you entered the bullpen the next morning, almost toppling over and dying of asphyxiation because of how easily you took his breath away.
There you were, in what he could only deduce was the Pinterest inspired outfit, a pink tie neatly arranged around your neck, its tail slipped into the waistband of your skirt.
"Spencer, you forgot your tie yesterday," you called out, extending the forgotten piece of fabric with a smile.
A red akin to a ripe strawberry bloomed across Spencer's face as he watched Morgan and Prentiss freeze mid-step, exchanging knowing looks as they glanced between you two.
"Reid, what's this about a tie?" 
Of course, Morgan was butting in, because it just wouldn't be a normal day of work if he wasn't.
"It's not--We didn't--," he faltered, his eyes meeting yours, finding an innocent cluelessness to the implications around them. Opting to dismiss the others, he focused on you, taking the tie with hands that weren't quite steady. "I mean, thank you."
You simply beamed at him.
"Do you like my outfit?" you asked, doing a little twirl that made the hem of your skirt flare out. He had to avert his eyes, knowing that the way he was looking you over would certainly not be perceived as innocent. "I got your text with the instructions. It was so sweet because I definitely did not remember everything you said yesterday. It gets kind of confusing with all the steps."
He was momentarily lost for words. "It's... you look... amazing."
Spencer was still fumbling for words when you stepped closer, the soft scent of your perfume wrapping around him.
"Well, it's all thanks to you."
Before he could respond, your rose onto the balls of your feet and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek. It was quick, innocent, but it left his knees feeling like they might buckle
As you pulled away, his skin tingled where your lips had been, and he stood there, utterly dumbstruck, his face a canvas painted with various shades of pink.
Morgan stared at him, his eyebrows raised in silent question, but Spencer didn't care. For a short moment, he didn't care about anything else--not the case files, not the teasing of his colleagues, not the world outside. There was only the warmth on his cheek and the sudden lightness in his chest. 
He decided this was his new lucky tie. 
taglist: @hotchhner @khxna
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punkshort · 11 days
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dad jokes
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Pairing: (Hallmark) Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: Joel and Sarah celebrate Father's Day with you and your family. Your sister's newest addition brings up a topic you've never discussed before with Joel.
Warnings: language, fluff (the cheesy hallmark kind), established relationship, reader has a nickname previously explained, smut (18+ MDNI), oral (m receiving), flirting, dirty talk
WC: 6.1K
Dividers by the one and only @saradika-graphics
Series Masterlist
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No matter how many times it happened, waking up in Joel's arms always put a smile on your face. His thick forearm laid heavy across your stomach and his broad chest was pressed against your back, cocooning you in his warmth. Even though it was mid June and the Texas heat was already beginning to rise, you refused to wiggle out of his grasp. You would rather overheat than not feel his exhale tickling the back of your neck or smell his familiar, intoxicating scent so close.
You cracked one eye open and glanced around his neat bedroom. Soon to be your shared bedroom, once the lease on your apartment was up next month. He had already insisted on bringing some of your things over and slowly your lives began to blend together. The end table closest to your side of the bed housed your things: a pink jar of lip balm, phone charger, a book, a few stray necklaces and some moisturizer. It looked like your things always belonged there, never out of place. Your eyes drifted towards his closet, which was already reorganized and you could see a few articles of your clothing hanging inside from the crack in the door. Your favorite purple blanket, although discarded for the past month or so now due to the temperature, was draped over an armchair in the corner of the room. Your smile grew when you saw the framed photo of the two of you Tommy took at Sarah's Christmas recital sitting prominently on the dresser.
Just when you thought your life couldn't get any more perfect, you felt Joel stir behind you and tighten is grip around your waist before his gravelly voice mumbled mornin' and his hand wandered down, slipping underneath the sheets to pluck at the hem of your sleep shorts.
"Happy Father's Day," you whispered over your shoulder. You felt him smile against your skin.
"Thank you, baby."
His hand slipped beneath your underwear and you sighed, arching your back when he began to tease, the rough pads of his fingers petting lightly between your legs. You felt his hardening length twitch against your ass and you bit your lip, temporarily getting lost in the moment before you remembered Sarah's surprise and you begrudgingly put your hand on his arm to stop him.
"We can't."
"Why?"
Just then you each heard a clattering in the kitchen below you and Sarah mutter something before the sink turned on.
"Sarah's making you pancakes."
Joel groaned. "But I don't want pancakes, I want somethin' else," and he began to rub his finger against your slit again, making you gasp.
"Joel," you whined as you began to pull away, "she's been planning this all week, come on."
He shifted onto his back and gave you a pathetic look. You giggled and rolled out of bed. "If I promise to give you your gift after she goes to bed tonight, would that make you feel better?"
"You bought me a gift?" he asked, suddenly becoming alert.
"Well, I wouldn't say I bought you something," you said as you began to change out of your pajamas. "But you'll still be thanking me."
Joel grinned and slid out of bed to join you in front of the closet, his arms wrapping around your waist and his lips latching onto the crook of your neck. "I like the sound of that."
"Dad!" Sarah called from the bottom of the stairs. "Hurry up! I have a surprise for you!"
"Go," you told him, pushing against his chest playfully. He pretended to stumble backwards, making you laugh before heading out into the hall and down the steps.
By the time you changed and washed up, Joel had already devoured half his breakfast. You stopped short when you entered the kitchen and burst out laughing when you saw the cheesy #1 Dad blue ball cap sitting cockeyed on top of his messy curls.
"Oh, this is just too good," you giggled before grabbing your phone out of your pocket and snapping a picture. "Great job, kiddo," you told Sarah when you passed by, ruffling her hair. She shot you a killer smile and went back in for more pancakes.
"What time is the barbecue again?" Sarah asked with her mouth full.
"Four, I think," you replied, pulling out your phone to check the text from your mom. "Oh! Bring your swimsuit. They want to use the pool."
"Yes!" Sarah whispered, triumphantly pumping her fist. "That pool is the coolest."
"Tiles in the center of the pool are hand painted by this artist your folks found just outside of the city. She had those ready to go before the concrete guys were even ready to pour, if you can believe it. Did I ever tell you 'bout the concrete guys?" You and Sarah exchanged amused glances and shook your heads, letting Joel ramble on. He was the contractor who built your parents' house the year prior and it was no secret it was one of his favorite projects, even before he got to meet you. Your parents adored him, as well. So much so that they invited him, Sarah and Tommy to their annual Christmas party, where you first met.
When breakfast was done, you volunteered to wash the dishes, which, after looking around the kitchen at the tornado Sarah left behind, you instantly regretted it. Naturally, Sarah noticed that she trapped you and before anyone could ask her to help, she disappeared up the stairs to her bedroom.
"I'll help, baby," Joel said as he tried to take the towel from over your shoulder. You scooted back, just out of reach, and shook your head.
"It's Father's Day, you shouldn't lift a finger," you replied. He grinned and leaned up against the counter instead, picking at some leftover bacon while you got to work. "Maybe this was my gift for you all along," you added with a wink. His hand froze halfway to his mouth, a piece of bacon hanging limply from his fingers as he stared at you.
"I was really hopin' it was somethin' better than doin' the dishes, darlin'."
"Yeah? Like what?" you asked innocently, batting your lashes, making him grin. His eyes drifted towards the door to the kitchen, making sure Sarah didn't sneak downstairs when he wasn't paying attention, then took a step forward.
"Like maybe you let me finish what I started this mornin'," he said, his voice dropping an octave. Your heart fluttered in your chest, your body already betraying you with just one small sentence, but you tried to keep your cool as you scrubbed a plate in the sink.
"Now, that would require lifting a finger, wouldn't it?" you teased. He gently brushed his knuckles against your back, taking yet another step closer while you rinsed the plate.
"It would require a couple, actually, but I'm more than willin' to put in a little work."
"So generous of you, but I was thinking I could be the one doing all the work tonight," you whispered, turning to ghost your lips over his and blindly washing a fork.
"Yeah?" he breathed, practically falling into a trance as he stared into your eyes.
"Mhm, but I wouldn't stop you if you used those fingers to pull my hair when I'm on my knees with your-"
"Dad?" Sarah called from the top of the stairs, making you both jump. You stifled your giggles when Joel took a deep, ragged breath and raked his fingers through his hair before adjusting himself and walking towards the kitchen door.
"Yeah, baby girl?"
"Where are the beach towels?"
"Sarah, it's ten in the mornin', we ain't goin' to the barbecue til later."
"I know, but I wanna lay outside for a bit before it gets too hot."
Joel rolled his eyes and you grinned while you finished up the dishes. "I think they're in the basement, I'll get 'em." He turned back to you and pinned you with a familiar, heated look. "We ain't done here."
"Is that a promise?"
He chuckled and shook his head before swinging open the basement door and disappearing down the stairs.
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It was on the car ride over to your parents' house when it hit him: this was the first Father's Day where he didn't have to do anything. Before you, Joel was completely alone. Sure, Tommy helped when he could, but Tommy also had his own life. For so many years it was just him and Sarah, and as much as she tried to take things off his plate as she got older, she still wasn't old enough to make her own money or drive a car to get him a gift for any special occasion. At Christmas, Tommy helped her out, but his birthday and Father's Day were always different. Those were times he gave her money from his wallet and pretended not to watch which stores she filtered in and out of at the mall.
He loved his little girl more than anything and he was happy that she even cared enough to put any thought into a gift for him over the years, but this year? It was special. You took Sarah to the grocery store to get supplies for breakfast when he was at work. You took her to the mall and you helped her wrap that stupid hat and the DVDs of a couple action flicks he'd been wanting to see.
In just six short months, you managed to change everything.
His hand drifted across the seat to your thigh, giving you a gentle squeeze, his fingers curling around your leg lovingly. You turned your head from the open window, hair flying every which way in the wind, to give him a dazzling smile while his daughter listened to music in the backseat, her bathing suit on underneath her clothes and a towel tucked under her arm.
How could he ever properly explain to you what you've done to him? To the both of them? You probably didn't even think twice about taking Sarah to get him a gift, it just came second nature to you. But to him, it meant the world.
He released your thigh and found your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles before stretching your arm across the seat, flipping your hand over and then pressing a kiss in your palm, all the while keeping his eyes pinned on the road.
You wiggled your fingers, tickling his chin playfully, making him smile. At a stop light, he glanced in the review mirror at Sarah smiling down at something on her phone.
His life finally felt complete. The only thing he had left to do was make it official.
Sarah leaned forward, arms stretching over the back of the seats to show you her phone. She was excitedly telling you about some famous pop star that just announced he was releasing a new album at the end of the month along with tour dates and you nodded along, pretending to be just as enthused.
"I mean, look at this album cover. He's so dreamy. Isn't he so cool?" Sarah asked with a goofy smile on her face.
"Mmm, absolutely. The coolest," you replied.
"Well, you know why he's so cool, don't you?" Joel chimed in. Sarah frowned, confused. "'Cause he's got a lotta fans."
The corners of his mouth pulled into a grin, eyes flicking back and forth between you and his daughter, waiting for a reaction that never came. You both just stared at him blankly. "Oh, c'mon, that was a good one!" he moaned as he pulled into the driveway. You hid your smile behind your hand as Sarah rolled her eyes and unbuckled her seatbelt.
"Don't quit your day job, Dad."
"I bet your old man'll find it funny," Joel said to you after Sarah piled out of the truck.
"I have no doubt about that," you told him, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before sliding out of the passenger seat to trail after Sarah, who had ran right to the gate leading to the backyard.
"Happy Father's Day!" you sang out when you opened the gate to find your dad messing around with the grill. His eyes snapped up to yours and his round face lit up before stretching his arms open wide for a hug.
"Thanks, Buck," he murmured into your hair, arms so tight around your ribs that you could barely breathe.
"Happy Father's Day, Mr. Paul," Sarah chirped, and your dad released you in favor of pulling her into a much more delicate half hug.
"Thank you, sweetie. Where's your old man?"
"Right here," Joel replied, closing the gate behind him. "Happy Father's Day, Paul," he added once he got closer, reaching an arm out to shake your father's hand, but your dad grabbed it and pulled Joel in for a hug and a loud slap on the back. You giggled and looked away when you saw Joel's face. Your father was a big man and sometimes forgot his own strength.
"Happy Father's Day, Joel," your dad answered once he finally released him. "C'mon, lemme get you a beer from the garage." The two of them wandered back down the path towards the gate while you and Sarah hopped up the stairs to the deck. The sliding glass door was partially open and you could hear your two month old niece's wails before you even stepped inside.
Your mom, who was busy flying around the kitchen in the same green apron she's owned since you were little, planted quick pecks on your cheeks before pulling plates of burgers and chicken out of the refrigerator.
"Sarah, honey, could you take these out to Mr. Paul for me? Then feel free to jump in that pool, it's getting too hot out there."
"Yes, ma'am," Sarah said excitedly before jumping in to help.
"Bucky, can you find your sister and see if she needs any help with Anna?"
"Already on it!" you called over your shoulder. You peered into the living room, spotting a baby swing and portable crib with a loose pack of diapers shoved underneath, but no baby. You followed the noises down the hall to your father's den where your sister, Cassie, and her husband, Josh, were desperately trying to quiet down your niece. Just one look at them and you knew they were beyond exhausted. Their eyes looked a little red and your sister's hair wasn't styled in her usual, meticulous fashion.
"Hey, why don't I give it a try?" you offered, stretching out your arms. Your sister and Josh looked at you, relief flooding their faces.
"Oh, thank you, Buck," Cassie said before handing over Anna. Josh draped a fresh burp cloth over your shoulder so you could press Anna's chest against yours, her perfect little face screaming into your shoulder.
You shushed her and gently bounced on the balls of your feet. She continued to yell but you could tell her voice was beginning to quiet down a bit. "Why don't you guys go relax and I'll come get you if I need you?"
"Are you sure?" Josh asked, but Cassie was already grabbing his hand and pulling him out the door.
"Consider it your Father's Day present," you told him with a wink. He grinned and mouthed thank you before following your sister back towards the kitchen.
"Alright, Annie, it's just you and me now. No need for all that drama," you murmured into her ear. She took a few deep breaths then yawned, occasionally filling the room with a tiny shriek but otherwise seemed to be calming down. You walked back and forth across the room, whispering whatever you could think of to her, knowing it didn't really matter because all that she really liked was the vibrations in your chest, anyway. When you ran out of things to say and she was still awake, but quiet, you began to hum. You stood in front of the bay window, looking out at the front yard and admiring your mother's garden, swaying back and forth and humming some song you heard on the radio when Joel snuck up the hall holding two beers. When he spotted you, your back to him with Anna falling asleep on your shoulder, he stopped dead in his tracks.
He couldn't stop fucking looking at you. The image made his breath hitch in his throat and his stomach clench. Suddenly, sleepless nights where he carried Sarah around on his shoulder flashed before his eyes. He was so alone and scared and convinced he was doing everything wrong. But watching you in that moment he somehow knew you would be a natural with a baby of your own. You always had a way that made him feel calm, secure, safe.
You never brought up the topic of having kids before. He always wondered but he worried he would be asking too soon. Then he realized how foolish that seemed when he had an engagement ring already purchased and hidden in his dresser.
He took a deep breath and forced himself to move, quietly entering the den. You turned around at the noise and smiled.
"Is she out?" you whispered. He crept forward and tilted his head, noting Anna's eyes were shut and her pacifier was dangling from her lips. He nodded and you pretended to wipe sweat from your brow. He shifted out of the way so you could slowly sway out the door and back into the hallway where the pack and play was set up. You could hear your family's voices muffled through the sliding glass door and the faint sounds of splashing coming from the pool as you carefully leaned forward to put Anna in the crib.
"Can't believe how big she is already," he whispered, hooking his chin over your shoulder and wrapping his arms around your waist.
"I know. Did it feel like Sarah grew up this fast?"
Joel laughed softly and kissed the back of your neck before stepping away. "Actually, no. Doin' it all alone was tough. I was so nervous, every hour felt like a year."
You gave him a sympathetic look before taking the beer he held out for you. "I'm sorry, Joel."
"No need to be sorry. Everythin' worked out exactly like it was supposed to." He tipped his bottle to gentle tap against yours before taking a sip, watching you nervously as you did the same. He cleared his throat and glanced over at Anna once more, too anxious to look at you when he asked, "is that somethin' you'd want one day? Kids?"
Your eyes widened, lips parting in surprise before you shifted your weight. Were you nervous, too?
"Uh, well, yeah, sure, you know, but it's not, like, a dealbreaker or anything." The embarrassment crept up your chest and neck, making your cheeks feel hot under his gaze.
"What'dya mean, 'dealbreaker'?" he asked curiously, and you shrugged.
"Well, I'm not trying to jump way ahead or anything, I know we haven't been together long," you began to explain, flicking your hair and fanning the back of your neck. You were nervous. The thought made him smile. If you only knew. "I just mean, you've already done the baby thing, so if it's something you didn't want to do, I'm totally fine with-"
"I do," he said immediately. Your gaze snapped up and a huge smile spread across your face.
"Really?"
"Yeah," he said breathlessly with a smile matching yours. "With you? Hell yeah."
You laughed softly, glancing at Anna to make sure she was still sound asleep. "Well, then. That's... yeah. Wow, okay, glad we covered that." You sounded so damn cute when you were all flustered and nervous he couldn't help but cup your cheek and press his lips against yours, putting a stop to your rambling.
"I don't care how long we've been together, I love you," he whispered against your mouth. "Never loved anyone as much as I love you."
Your eyes glistened when you gazed up lovingly at him, your small hand tucking a stray curl around his ear. "Me too, Joel," you gave him one more chaste kiss before pulling back and taking his hand. "Why don't we go rejoin the party?"
He nodded and let you lead him through the kitchen and back out onto the deck where your family was relaxing under the shade of the umbrella, watching Sarah show off her diving skills.
"Hey, Joel, help me out with the grill, yeah?" your dad called from the patio. He tipped his chin in acknowledgement before kissing the top of your head and jogging down the steps.
"She's down?" Cassie asked when you collapsed into the patio chair next to her.
"Yep, sure is."
"You're a miracle worker, Bucky," Cassie sighed before tilting her head back and closing her eyes.
"Nah, she just loves me the most."
Without looking, Cassie shot one leg out to kick you, hitting you squarely on the thigh.
"Ouch! Mom!" you whined, rubbing the spot on your leg. Joel turned around from the grill when he heard you and grinned.
"Bucky, be serious. You're both adults now, do I really still need to referee your fights?"
You pouted then scowled when you saw the smirk on your sister's face.
"Hey, this might be a bad time to ask, but do you think you could watch Anna next Saturday?" Cassie asked sheepishly, making you laugh.
"Yeah, I guess so," you said. "I was going to move some more of my stuff into Joel's place but I suppose I could change my plans for my favorite niece."
"Oh, that's right. Your lease is up soon, isn't it?" Josh asked and you nodded before taking a sip of your beer.
"Next month."
"Big step," your mom said, but she had mischievous a look in her eye that matched the small smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"Yeah, I guess so," you replied, giving her a curious frown, "although I spend so much time at their house as it is, it hardly feels like it."
"Oh, you never know. It might take you by surprise," she said before taking a sip from her cocktail. Cassie looked back and forth between you with a raised eyebrow.
"What are you talking about, mom?" she pried, but your mom waved her off.
"Oh, nothing! I'm just trying to say it's a big, exciting step." She checked the time on her watch and stood up. "I have to check the mac and cheese," she said, then disappeared quietly inside the house.
"That was weird," you muttered, glancing over your shoulder to check on Sarah.
"She's always been weird," Cassie shrugged. "But things are going good with you guys I take it?"
"Yeah," you replied, borderline dreamily. "Things are great."
Cassie leaned in, her sister intuition tingling, silently urging you to elaborate. You bit your lip, glancing quickly at Josh who appeared to be half asleep in the sun.
"He asked me if I ever wanted to have kids," you whispered, but her high pitched squeal blew your cover when both Joel and your dad turned around to look at her.
"She saw a bee!" you called over to them and they shrugged before turning back to the meat on the grill.
"Sorry!" she whispered, then clutched your hand. "Bucky, that's so exciting! What did you say?"
"Well, I was honest with him but I really didn't think he would want any more. Sarah's a teenager already, I thought he was past that point in his life, but..." you trailed off and snuck a peek in his direction, your gaze sliding over his broad shoulders and tanned skin. "I was wrong."
"Oh, my god, Buck. What if we were pregnant at the same time?"
"Shh!" you hissed with a finger against your lips. "You just had a baby and you're already thinking about the next one?"
"Our kids could grow up together and be best friends. Oh, my god I'm so excited, I could die!" she said, ignoring you.
"Cas! I'm not getting pregnant tonight! There's a few more steps that usually happen before having a baby."
"Well, shit, if he's asking you those types of questions, I have a hunch he's got the big question locked and loaded," she replied before putting on her sunglasses and leaning back in her chair with a sigh.
Your eyes went wide and your pulse thrummed excitedly in your neck. "You think?"
"Mhm."
You had been so focused on moving in with Joel and Sarah the past few months that you never really thought past that step. For whatever reason, being with Joel always felt natural. Like you didn't belong anywhere else but right by his side. When you thought about your future, Joel and Sarah were always a part of it, like it was a given they would be in your life forever. But, naturally, forever generally implied an engagement and wedding, something you never gave much thought to. Then your mind drifted back to the night before Cassie gave birth, when Joel came to your door after he and Tommy had to much to drink at a bar nearby and he casually mentioned he wanted to spend his life with you, that he already bought a ring. Even though he quickly backtracked and claimed it was a joke, it still stuck in the back of your mind.
You looked over at Joel again, trying to envision him in a tux and standing under an altar, gazing down at you with tears in his eyes. And then suddenly, mid-fantasy, he turned to you and smiled. Butterflies bloomed in your stomach when you smiled back and he gave you a wink.
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"So I said, he's got a lotta fans, get it?" Joel finished saying, sending your dad into a fit of laughter. "Told ya he'd think it was funny," he said when he turned to you with a grin. You just rolled your eyes and took another bite of chicken.
"Yeah, then I told him not to quit his day job," Sarah piped up from the other side of the table. Joel leaned forward and narrowed his eyes at her.
"Well, I'd tell you a construction joke, but I'm still workin' on it."
The whole table cracked up at that one, Sarah included.
"Joel, where's Tommy today?" your mom asked. "He knows he's always welcome, doesn't he?"
"Oh, 'course he does. He's been busy with a new lady friend," Joel replied, wiggling his eyebrows.
"Hey, that's great," your dad said.
"He's such a handsome man, I'm so glad to hear he's found someone," your mom added.
"Handsome? What'dya mean by that, Martha?" your father questioned, crossing his arms and pretending to be jealous. You and Cassie exchanged glances and rolled your eyes.
"Oh, stop it," she replied, swatting his arm with her napkin while trying to hide the flush that was creeping up her neck.
"Sarah, how'd you do on exams?" Cassie asked as she lifted Anna onto her shoulder to burp her.
Sarah launched into a full breakdown of her school year, highlighting her favorite classes and teachers. Joel watched with a dopey smile on his face while she told the table she was going to continue violin lessons over the summer and she also planned on trying out for a summer soccer league.
"Sounds like you'll be busy, Joel," Josh joked with a nudge.
"Yeah, what else is new," he replied, pretending to be exasperated but in reality, he couldn't be happier. Seeing his little girl so full of life and energy was all he ever needed. "But at least now I'll have a bit of help," Joel added, draping his arm across the back of your chair.
"Oh, Joel, do not let Bucky take Sarah to soccer," Cassie warned. Your parents were already laughing, knowing what she was going to say. "She takes sports way too seriously. If you're not careful, she's gonna be out there in the middle of the field yelling at the refs and getting Sarah thrown out of the game."
"I will not!" you exclaimed defensively, but Sarah and Joel were already laughing.
"Bucky, c'mon, don't make me remind you of fifth grade softball-"
"Cassie, that was ages ago!"
"What happened in softball?" Sarah asked excitedly, picking up on the energy from all the adults.
Cassie went on to tell a very elaborate and exaggerated version of events in which you felt like the pitcher was intentionally trying to hit you with the ball and it nearly caused a fist fight amongst both teams. You just sat back and rolled your eyes, then you felt Joel's fingers graze the back of your arm.
"Don't listen to her, she's a liar," you told him quietly so only he could hear. He grinned and leaned forward to whisper in your ear.
"That's too bad, I like the idea of you gettin' all fiery and worked up."
Your heart skipped a beat at the tone in his voice and you mouthed the word bad, making him chuckle.
Joel didn't want to rush Sarah out of the pool and the weather was so perfect, it was close to nine when you finally decided to pack up and leave, Cassie and Josh already having left hours before to put Anna to bed.
"I'm so tired," Sarah yawned from the backseat.
"Swimming and all that sun'll do that to you," Joel told her.
"Mr. Paul offered to take us fishing one day, Dad. D'you think we can go? He says he knows a spot where the bass are over a foot long each."
Joel smiled to himself. A year ago, all he and Sarah had was Tommy and a few cousins who came by twice a year from out of town. Now it seemed like they had a whole new family, and it was all because of you. "Yeah, sure. Sounds like a great time."
You were fresh out of the shower, inspecting your skin for any sunburn when Joel entered your bedroom looking beat. He slid off his jeans with a groan and collapsed into bed with his forearm thrown over his eyes.
Flicking off the bathroom light, you wandered over to the bed, dragging a finger up the inside of his thigh. He moved his arm so he could look at you with a raised eyebrow.
"Too tired for your gift?" you asked sweetly.
He smirked and shook his head. "Never too tired for you, baby."
With his arms spread wide, he motioned for you to join him on the bed. Starting at his legs, you slowly crawled up his body, maintaining steady eye contact the whole way until your nose was nudging gently against his.
"I liked all your dad jokes today," you murmured right before placing a tender kiss against his plush lips. "Really very fitting for the occasion."
"Mm, got one more f'you," he replied, voice matching your low tone.
You tipped your head back a bit so you could see his eyes.
"Let's hear it."
He grinned and pulled you back towards him, nuzzling his nose into your neck, breathing in deep the smell from your floral shampoo. "What goes in hard and comes out soft?"
You giggled and you felt him smile against your skin.
"Um, I can think something," you whispered, nipping playfully at his ear. Then you dropped your hand to cup him between his legs and his breath stalled. You pulled down the waistband of his boxers and looked at his erection bobbing heavy between your bodies. You hummed and gave him a coy smile before leaving a trail of kisses down his neck and, shimmying down between his legs, carefully wrapped your fingers around his cock.
When he first felt your tongue flick out and tease him, he inhaled sharply and gently combed his fingers through your hair with a sigh.
"Fuck, baby, you dirty thing. I was gonna say pasta," he moaned when you took his swollen tip into your mouth and swirled your tongue around, allowing your saliva to pool and drip past your lips. When he gasped and rolled his hips, you felt a flutter in your lower belly, your own arousal building just from listening to him fall apart from your mouth.
You relaxed your jaw and tried to steady your breathing as you took him deeper, making sure to keep your tongue moving, sliding up and down his smooth skin. You smiled around him when he groaned so loud he had to bite his fist, his display of weakness only encouraging you to move faster, hollowing your cheeks and taking him a little deeper each time you sunk back down.
"W-wait, stop - shit," he gasped before giving your hair a gentle pull. You released him and gazed up into his eyes, your lips all red and wet as you panted for air.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothin', just gonna come if you keep goin'. C'mon, take these off-" he reached for your shorts but you squirmed away with a frown.
"I told you, Joel. You're not lifting a finger on Father's Day."
"But what 'bout-"
"I wanna take care of you, Joel. Will you let me? Please?" you asked with a little pout. You could see it in the way he looked at you now, you had said something he really wanted to hear. So you tried it again. "You do so much for everyone else. Let me do this for you," you whispered, and when you felt his fingers loosen and fall from your hair, you grinned and turned your attention back to his cock. Slowly, you stroked him up and down, admiring his length before pressing a few kisses to his leaking tip.
"Goddamn, that feels nice," he whispered, closing his eyes briefly to savor the feeling of your warm, soft mouth enveloping him once again. You hummed and he jolted underneath you, the vibrations sending a shockwave through his limbs. "Oh, yeah, there you go," he cooed when you began to take him faster, your tongue swirling around him as you bobbed up and down. "Fuck, you look so good like this, y'know that? You -" he gasped when he felt the tip of his cock nudge the back of your throat and his fingers immediately got tangled in your hair once again. It took everything you had to keep breathing and not gag around him.
"Oh, god," he moaned, his jaw clenching as he felt himself getting closer and closer to his release. You rubbed your thighs together, the ache between your legs unbearable with all the praise and noises he was lavishing on you since you started.
"Fuck, baby, I'm - where? W-where? Quick," he whined as his hips involuntarily bucked up into your mouth. You didn't want to take him from your mouth to answer so you caught his eye, his face looking wrecked and sweaty, and gave him a wink, hoping that would convey your message.
His hand cradled the back of your head as he suddenly bent forward, whimpering your name with a string of curses attached and that was when you felt his warmth first hit your tongue. You moaned quietly at the salty taste, swallowing down each spurt of his release until his muscles relaxed and he fell back onto his pillow with a groan.
"God," he whispered, his chest heaving. He watched in a daze as you carefully drew back, giving the tip one more kiss and sending a shudder down his spine before wiping the corner of your mouth with a grin and climbing up to lay next to him in bed.
He rolled over and cupped your cheek, kissing you with his tongue sliding past your lips. You could feel his heartbeat thumping against his chest, against your chest, and you moaned into his mouth.
"Happy Father's Day," you whispered hoarsely when he pulled away to kiss your forehead.
"Thank you, baby. But now it's your turn," he told you with a sly smirk. He began to inch his way down your body, his lips dragging over your chest, but you stopped him.
"I told you, you're not lifting a finger today."
His eyes shifted to the clock next to your bed. "It's past midnight," he told you before he continued to work his way down, leaving kisses down your stomach before tugging at your shorts.
You sighed and settled into the pillows, eyes sliding shut. "Well, in that case..."
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Did anyone else ever had an IEP growing up and you used to convince your elementary school teachers that you didn't know anything to the point they thought you were a concern only for you to read four grades above your current level. It was all because you didn't like to be forced into reading the books the teachers picked out? Was that just me?
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nuhuhwinniethepooh · 5 months
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Birthday present
Tags : smut, virgin female!reader, gojo can be gentle too! (I'm kidding, he's a feral bitch), dude likes to edge himself and he doesn't even know it, praise, a little stretched out until you reach the main course, unprotected sex (do not attempt, use protection), stomach bulge (cuz why not??), I lost my mind halfway through, gojo is in his mid-twenties (reader is the same).
Minors, you know the drill. Get out🚪👈🏼🚶🏻‍♀️
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9 months. 9 whole months passed since you've started dating Satoru and you haven't done the deed yet, fearing the pain and whatever complicated emotions that comes with being a...well, virgin but luckily for you, the very impatient man is willing to be patient, just for you and you only. But just because he's patient doesn't mean he won't push his luck afterall, he's Gojo Satoru. What did you expect? What he wants, he always gets and unluckily for you, he doesn't want you. He needs you.
10 : 38 PM
"Babe can we do it today, Pretty please?,"
Satoru whines, his arms wrapping around your waist as he rests his head on your stomach, batting his pretty cerulean eyes up at you pleadingly. You look down at him with a neutral expression on your face, shifting on the bed to prop yourself on your elbows to look at him better.
"And what exactly are you talking about?" You ask, brushing stray hairs from his eyes with a small grin. "You know what I'm talking about," he groans, pulling you down and burying his face in your chest which earns him a light gasp out of you. "No bra," he notes happily to himself, subtly taking in your scent.
"Please pretty please with a cherry on top, I swear I'll take it easy and go slow. Nice and easy, yea?," his voice comes out muffled, hands slowly sliding under your shirt and resting on your bare skin to prove his point. You look at him incredulously and swallow thickly," you promise?", not wanting to deny him anymore.
Satoru looks up at you expectantly, his cheeks squishing as he rests his face on your breast, squishing it beneath him too," yea, I promise. I'll be gentle," he coos, hands gently roaming upwards to grope your chest. Kneeding and rolling your unoccupied nipple with his fingers, he smiles when it perks up and your breathe hitch. He sits up, eyeing your every expression down with a satisfied grin as he leans down and licks your bottom lip for access. You comply immediately and part your lips open, earning you a satisfied hum from him as he slowly lolls and twists his tongue with yours, his hands now tugging at your shirt impatiently, pulling it off of you with one final tug.
Throwing your shirt off at a corner somewhere, your skin rises from the sudden chill and you immediately cover your exposed chest, a grunt of disapproval popping out of him as he pries your arms open with ease, all struggle from you being rendered impossible as he admires the view of you squirming under him. Gently groping your plush chest and perked up nipples, he kisses your lips, jaws and chin before making his way down to your neck, leaving a trail of spit behind.
Suckling and licking his way down to your chest, he takes a nipple in his mouth and rolls it around with his tongue, gently biting and tugging at it with his teeth. A smug grin on his face when he hears you moan softly, your hands immediately rushing to his hair and tugging at it as heat pools at the pit of your stomach. "Shh, you're doing so well baby. So, so well," Satoru murmurs, moving on to the neglected side and doing the same, his unoccupied hand drifting downwards and making its way past your shorts, groaning when he notes that you didn't have any underwear on and feels the sticky wetness oozing out of you," such a good girl. You're all nice and wet, just for me," he rasps out, lightly rubbing at your clit in a circular motion.
You gasp out, back arching off the bed slightly as your hand abandons your position on his neck, choosing to grip on the sheets instead." Satoru," you sputter out, a tingling sensation running up your spine while looking up at him with wet eyes. Satoru immediately stops, mumbling apologies as he pulls his hand away and picks you up," I'm sorry, was that too far? Did I hurt you?," he asks worriedly, settling you down on his lap and wiping the few tears that leaked through your eyes, ignoring his raging hard-on which was very obviously poking your inner thighs through his sweat pants. You look at him confusedly, rubbing your eyes," no, no. It's nothing like that," you answer, he mimics your confused look.
"Why are you crying then?"
You flush, splotches of color appearing on your face," i-it just felt really weird and...well, nice." You admit, pursing your lips as you look at the visible relief flooding his eyes almost instantly and a smile tugs at his lips. "I thought I hurt you or something," he sighs, leaning his forehead against yours with a small smug smile on his face," so can we continue where we left off?"
"Ye-"
"Before you answer, I want you to actually think about it right now," he says, effectively cutting you off. " I may be patient but I'm not one of restraint so once we start...I can't guarantee that I'll be able to stop."
You chuckle lightly, resting your hand on the bulge poking at your thigh. Jolts of pleasure runs up through him, causing him to straighten his back as he stares at your hand and back at you speechlessly. "I want to do it, satoru," you whisper, wrapping your arms around his shoulder and pulling him closer until your lips are only centimeters apart.
"I want you," you kiss him, licking his bottom lips like how he licked yours. You were a fast learner, always was- who knew that it applied to this too.
Satoru feels something snap within him, immediately grabbing your waist and resting you snugly on ontop of his cock, grinding your clothed cunt down on it- pulling out simultaneous muffled moans out of the two of you as he hungrily kisses your lips, hands gripping your thighs before pulling away and swiftly turning you around, resting your back on his chest, he props a bunch of pillows behind him and leans down with you ontop of him.
"You're gonna be the death of me," he whispers hoarsely, tugging your shorts off and hurriedly disposing it to the floor. His hands immediately cups your cunt, eyes rolling back as he feels the gushing wetness and the vibrations of your moan coursing through him. Slowly pushing his finger in your tight hole, you grip his arms and rest your head on his shoulder as he pumps in and out of you, curling his fingers inside to find that one spot.
He grins when he feels you clench down on his finger," Aha. You're weak here aren't you?," he whispers in your ear as he slowly adds in a second finger, abusing the gummy spot inside you- his other hand gently rolling your nub, your eyes roll back as small, broken moans spills out of you. Your mouth falls open and he takes the chance to press his swollen lips against yours, gently adding in a third finger to stretch you out properly.
"You're close, aren't you?," he mumbles against your lips, adding a little more pressure on your clit." Don't let me hold you back from cumming, baby," he teases softly, pressing light kisses at the back of your neck. As if on command, your body jerks as you orgasm and clench down incomparably tight, drenching his fingers- Satoru bites down hard on your shoulder, creating a bruising spot as he imagines his fingers inside you being replaced with his cock instead.
Gently getting you off of him, he lays you down on your back and brushes stray hair off your face, admiring the look on it with a grin," you did such a good job for your first time. I'm so proud of you honey," he coos, pulling his own shirt off and throwing it aside, you drool at the sight of his chiseled torso, rubbing your thighs together to create some friction in your throbbing cunt.
"S-satoru," you whine out softly, body still trembling from the aftershock, reaching a hand out to him weakly. He shushes at you; leaning down and kissing you gently, he pulls his sweats down, his bulge poking out prominently from underneath his boxer- palming his clothed bulge, he groans in your lips, sending vibrations down your body and pulling out loud, needy moans from you.
His hip bucks at the sounds, hurriedly pulling away from you and taking in deep, heavy breathes; the usual cerulean blue irises of his being replaced with a blown out black abyss staring back at you. Pulling his boxers down, his cock springs out and you gasp breathlessly at the sight of it. The tip was flushed pink, pre-cum leaking out of it and you catch sight of the thick veins running through it. You swear you saw them pulse, you lick your swollen lips nervously.
He was big. Too big. You were right, you can't do this afterall. It's not gonna fit. You don't even wanna try pushing that in! Were you horny? Hell yes! But that doesn't mean you're gonna run head-first to your death just because of it!
"Satoru, t-thats not gonna fit," you whisper, looking at him with apprehension. He shushes at you, leaning down and kissing your inner thighs, taking in your scent," it will, don't worry. I'll make sure of that," he mumbles, gently biting down and soothing it with kitten licks. His mouth goes dry at the sight of you throbbing and clenching onto nothing for him- licking the cream that oozed out of you, he grunts at the taste of it.
Your hands immediately grasp his hair," satoru, it's not gonna work ou-!" He licks at your slit, shutting you up," I said I'll make it work, didn't I? Don't you worry about it ," he mumbles absent-mindedly, suckling your clit and tongue fucking you, his hands holding on to your hips and holding you in place- the pressure of your thighs clenching onto his head only adding fuel to the fire as he drinks you up ravenously, your protests and moans of it being 'too much' falling on deaf ears. He's thirsty and you're wet, even an idiot would know that he's not stopping until he drinks his fill.
Eyes rolling to the back of your head, you cum once again, a silent scream ripping out of you. Your vision goes white and your hold on his hair tightens more, thighs crushing his head and essence squirting out of you and onto his tongue as he greedily laps every single drop, Satoru swears that he can die happy right now. Dry-humping his cock at the mattress, whines pours out of his mouth as he feels his own release building up but he stops, shuddering at the feeling of the failed release.
11 : 12 PM
He wanted to cum inside you first. Satoru finally pulls away, gulping in air and realizing that he nearly suffocated himself between your thighs. "That won't be such a bad way to go," he muses to himself while rubbing his pre-cum along his length. An irony in itself, the strongest sorcerer dying between his lover's thighs instead of dying in battle, the former would've been an honor, the latter? An insult.
Brushing the hair sticking on your blissed out face, he kisses your forehead, lining his thick tip across your entrance," I love you," he whispers to an unresponsive you, your body still trembling from the force of the last orgasm.
Slowly and gently, he pushes his thick head in you, grunting at the effort to stop himself from bucking his hips into yours. Broken moans spills out of you, coming down from your high at the painful feeling of being stretched to the limit," s-toru," you mewl out pathetically, hands wrapping around his neck and pulling him down.
"It h-hurts," you sniffle, looking at him with tear-stained eyes. Oh lord, what are you doing to him?! He quickly replaces his hold on your hips with the sheets instead, gripping the sheets so tight that he rips holes on it. Holding on to the last bit of restraint, he pulls out slowly before pushing in inch by inch again. Sobs springing out of you as you start squirming from the uncomfortable pain underneath him," for the love of all that's good, please stop moving. You're making this harder for me, baby," he rasps out, hands resting on your hips again, holding you in place.
Halfway in, he finally bucks his hips in yours and fits himself snugly inside you, he'd deal with the consequences later. You cry out at the sudden intrusion, feeling too filled and stretched out too fast," you promised to go slow! Satoru, you liar!" You wail out, squeezing your eyes shut and scratching his back, an outlet for the pain.
"Shh, I told you didn't I? That I'd make it fit and look, you're taking me so well. You're so nice and warm, made just for me," he coos, licking your tears and forcing your head up to look at the two of you joined together, him being buried inside you from the tip to the hilt would've made a mouth-watering sight before if it wasn't for the pain ripping through your body.
Your nails go deep into his skin but Satoru doesn't care, he loves the pain.
Satoru presses down lightly on your bulging stomach, dazed at how deep he was in you. You clench down on him, your warm gooey hole hugging him so tight that he nearly cums immediately. " I'm gonna start moving," he whispers, earning him incorrigible protests out of you- pulling out a little, he thrusts into you shallowly, voice seemingly stuck in your throat, all you do is hug him tighter.
"You're sucking me in so well," he groans out, slamming his hips into yours, the bed creaks underneath the both of you. Pain soon turns into pleasure as he continues ramming inside you, hitting your gummy spot so well that all you can do is moan his name out.
"S'toru," your tongue lolls out of your mouth, mind going blank as you feel the ecstasy rising in you. "You're drooling down there, baby. I'm glad you like my cock so much," he moans in your ears, fingers tormenting your swollen clit as he thrusts mercilessly in you.
" 'ts too much, satoru!" You whimper, scratching his back, your senses goes on overdrive. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, your body jerks and you clench down- his pace finally stuttering. Whimpering in your ears, he bites onto your collar bone; still fucking you through your high. The coil finally snaps in him too, grunting as he comes in you, pouring his hot seeds inside your womb, rope by rope until your belly starts to swell with the amount. Breathing heavily, he topples ontop of you, crushing you underneath his weight but you don't care, more like you can't care.
12 : 07 AM, 7th December
"Best birthday gift ever," he mumbles, lifting himself up. Looking down at you with a grin, his softened cock starts to harden inside you again.
"Let's do it one more time, yea?"
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Typing this on my phone with one hand cuz my laptops busted and the other is in a cast.
Sorry it took so long 😔
Masterlist
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astralnymphh · 7 months
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stuff you up ౨ৎ
aestras thanksgiving smut special
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' so who's getting stuffed, you or the turkey? '
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HELP PALESTINE . DO NOT BUY TLOU2
♡. summary; fuck the festivities, who actually cares about all that sappy shit. instead, embark a newly founded festivity– fucking your girlfriend up in the dusty memory of your old bedroom~ ♡. a\n; late af as fuck but just a fun little smut, nothing too serious, a bit rushed but here y'all go ♡. CW; groping under the table, fingering (r), clit stim (r), strapping (r), horndog!ellie, dom!ellie, tipsy!ellie, risky sex (joel almost catches u), cock referred as 'her' + referred as ellies, cocktip teasing, ass grabbing, some ass smacking, some plot, jokey bickering, readers a bit bratty, a slight brat-taming moment if you squint, mouth muffling, squirting, petnames; babe, baby, babygirl, princess, good girl, (lmk if i missed anything)
♡ WC; 5.5k ♡ masterlist ♡ thanks 2 @fleshunger 4 proofreading the intro ♡
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Paired minds savor the embellishing glow of lit stick candles settled before them in a ritzy manner– shedding light over plates of arraying colors. Marination that glistens, crispness that scrapes, and mushy mesas' of garlic herb potatoes that delicately slump in the cradle of a spoon. Consume with your eyes first, then your cameras– and conclusively, your rumbling tummy. 
Rather to consume what's meant to be, than to gorb the scruffy haired girl next to you– at least for now, yes? 
It's your first Thanksgiving with Ellie, being that you two only linked heartstrings this year.
You, the possibly innocent angel that you are– right now, serve clement smiles to whomever talks to you, be it Joel or some random relative who’s name only just surfed your ears this night, it doesn't matter. De rigueur, wear it well.
A baser mind– I mimic regret while telling you this– tumbles far from the garden of Eden and slips away into a daunting realm, the underworld. By under, I mean downstairs, below the button, the internals. Ellie straight up, served hot, was just bursting with hormones. The tender meat oozing with buttery slick melt fell short in maintaining the contact of those chartreuse eyes, instead, suffering the envy of them rooted to your thighs beneath the oak. 
Noses immerse themselves in salty goodness, eyes feast before gobs could, rolling molars gnaw turkey off the tines of forks, but her, her cunts' the only organ thinking right now.
Especially while seated adjacent to you, her clit was throbbing past the hard material of her jeans.
"You both settlin' in your new apartment?" Joel's bellowed drawl carries over the other muted chatter, low in the background.
"Mhm," your hum slopes and rises behind lips sealed to a glass rim, then part with a smack, "Ellie’s definitely settled more than me." ending with a giggle.
Her ear pivots from you, dirt–dappled nose at the fore, "Oh? What's that 'spose to mean babe?"
"Can't keep your hands off that shiny new Playstation, hmm?" 
"Tchh– you bought it for me." replied her with a skosh of sass.
"That I did."
"Uh–" Joel bumbles.
Els drones out, "Andd all my video games–"
"Where's my thank you?" you pout in frolick, forwarding your face for her view.
Hmph.
Her miffy eyes bounce around her skull hence to piloting back on yours, her own pout puffing, "Okayy, here," she sighs lowly, nosing her lips down to pucker a peck– smacking together.
A shared hum in approval vibrates between the bond of skin, half–approval, a kiss was meager in your book of play, and you felt particularly playful this eve.
With a finished kiss, leaves your mouth to mouth a sneaky little quip, fruitful in a whisper, "Didn't hear a thank you~"
"Hmm?"
"Els.." 
Faces still bathing in transferring warmth, her breath hitches on your mid–face, a sigh to end all worries, "You'll see, just wait." Her voice cracks a bit, silken on your ears.
Waiting wasn't even on the table. 
Not when a brawny hand suddenly gropes your inner–thigh, squeezing the fat in little wags.
Give thanks to whomever, thank fuck for being at the tables edge, where nobody else could witness this.
"Anywho–" Ellie grogs her throat clear of those debaucheries, returning to her normal seated poise, "yeah, like, we're settled– thanks for helpin' us find that place." her pitch heightens, flowing into a nosy chuckle.
"Course, kiddo." softly spoken off Joel’s sentiments, but minding less attention and returning his mouth to something more, toothsome. Foodsome.
Goddess, her grip is mighty.
Devious fingers– they found their way, quick. Fingers such as hers, waxy and pale, rigid and calloused, stamping up your hip and giving firm pressure to the bone. Knuckles flushed of pigment, they dig around the crest wanton, nudging you slightly.
"Seriously?" you spit through grit teeth, wiggling your hips in reaction.
Ellie harks your mutter, tugging those smug corners into a cocky smile as her nervy nature would plant her in, naughty–toothed smile, "Huuh?" that bastard coos, "what's wrong babe?"
"You dickhead." 
"Me, dickhead?"
"Yes, you, dickhead."
"That's a lot of dicks n' heads, what is it with you and dicks n' heads?" she creeps her face closer, squinting dumbly– which only made her onslaught of 'heads and dicks' more peeving now that you really loured at her.
Grimacing at her dense brows queller than a storm, blushy nostrils taunting in a wiggle, it subtly made sense– impish coquetry. The kind of shit you toss like a game of ball, prior to the main event. An event, to be seen.
"Why you givin' me that look, huh?" she squints lower in return, flaring her nose, "Do I have a dick for a head?" 
"I would not kiss you if that were the case," you claim advantage of her closeness and peck her goofish scowl, forcing a crescent to spry on that mouth, "Dork."
Hooks on your hip palpate harsher on the jut, her thumb swiping where the cushion and your butt cleft. Pressure given, when words pique her interest.
"Babe," Els murmured with fry in her chords, "d'ya want it?"
"It?" you gulp.
"Mhm.." thrummed she, eluding, "c'mon, you know.." said with that chilling husk, whew.
Okay, maybe it's clearer–than–a–midsummers–noon clear, that Ellie was a tad tipsy. Pink worm of hers just couldn't resist the samplage of some bourbon, sweet oakey notes that evoke memories of bourbon skies hence, quite the beautifying thought. Skies where you play a shrouded silhouette to her line of sight, tapping thumb to chin in ponder. Ponder, pondering.. for what were you pondering those sunsets?
Yet now you lacked a ponder on whatever the hell she was hinting to, only for it to ferment suddenly.
"Ellie, what are you on–"
"My fingers," a blurt wets her whistle, cocking her head dear to your poor ear, "do you want.. my fingers– in.." you feel her dual digits dive in the crevice of your thigh and groin, curling snugly.
"Ellie.." you hiss, pinching your brows in honest bewilderment.
Her pinkie roves over the bulge of your crotch and punctures the inseam right above your clit, stinging the little bud– which throbbed at her press.
"Do you?" her breath wanes, speech sedated with the aim of persuading you.
Contemplation was considered– maybe too carefully, maybe not. Problem one, legitimately most if not all of your family was within spitting distance of you, but on the other hand, the gutsy hand, weighed her offer slacker than a greedy businessman. In precis, her puppy eyes of coveted sanction, rears triumph. Dickhead.
A caught gulp squeezes down your gullet, puffing your chest out, "Mhm.." 
"Okay.. mhh–" she giggles with husk, creasing up as her lithe fingers trace and wrest your fly open, skulking her hand beneath the hood, "Just focus on dinner baby, I got this.." wisped soft, kindred to cashmere.
The unyielding stretch of your denim fastens around your hips in the act of her palm ramming inside, yanking you forward. Pursing your lips in elated exhales, you try, try to winch meat to mouth and void the tamping of your clit, try as you might– the pleasure is dire.
Ellie’s prints depress a lewd discovery, the stub of her smaller knuckle thickens itself in leaky panty, secreting from your eager hole. A discovery, worth a hushed gasp, "Ooh? Wet already babe? God damn.."
"Shut.. up.." choked you, only reaping a laugh from her.
"Fuck, I do all this?"
"Duh."
"Hehe– fuck that's hot.."
She withdraws her fingers half–way, to slither them under your panties. And without a foraged bit of foreplay, dilates your labia with her furled digits loading inside of you.
A squishy nub brushes your sweet spot.
Your pipes in turn swell with sharp intake, wall of your throat cooling instantly. Fuck, bona fide fuck. Enormously fucked when her pumps wreak gentle squelches from your dewy core.
"Jesus, mhphh.." a gruff of air susurrus from her, starkening her torso in an 'appeasingly normal' angle so she may, blend in, bemusing your mother with small–talk, "So, d'you always have a gathering this big on Thanksgiving?"
Out of all people, really, Els? 
She indulges with a smile, purely answering, "Oh yeah, every year– whole family, too many relative I suppose." fading erratically into a giggle.
"Heh– ‘least you got a big house, shitt– I mean," In spite of sounding casual, slips into a grit curse when your wet walls clench her in, "–dang, what I wouldn't give to live here, right babe?"
A mere butt of her elbow nearly dips you into the waters of appearing– deviant of natural, those slender digits, twisting a tender knot inside. She pumps at a canter, lesser than brisk, swifter than a slug. Beat, beat, beat to your g–spot, akin to the pitter, pitter, pat of your whizzing heart.
"Y–yeah, soo jealous, even though I did as a kid.." laughing it off awkwardly, a bask of 'Please let that be the only time I talk.' relief uplifts your sunk gut, momentarily.
"You still eating well livin' on your own?" your mother queries, tuning that time–old maternal charm.
"I mean, d–decent, enough–"
Ellie thrusts her fingers faster, fashioning a trickle of ooze to froth out onto your underwear. Pacified by the sensations, you clamp tighter, knocking a winded hitch to your staggering speech. Fucking inconvenient. Olives of her eyes binge a glint so bawdy, yet inlaid in a bad case of puppy–face, bullshit purity on her glossy lips. She knew the consequences, and consumed them like nothing.
"Pshh– decent? Babe, please, I'm like the microwave master!" exclaimed she, feigning a biggety tone atop her rasp.
You scoff, "Ah–" shuffling your thighs in light see–saw motions, "again, decent."
The knot squeezes as she finger–fucks the tranquility of mind from your pussy, staring knives at you when her supple thumb drags your clit in flicks.
"Sure it's not good?"
"Mh–mh.."
"Like, really good?"
No way she was referring to the microwave meals anymore.
Your mother intrudes softly, "Honey I can start bringin' you my homemade food if it's not–"
"It's okay, she's just playin' around–" Ellie replies before a vowel can flutter your lips, proceeding to eye–fuck you with a smug visage, "she loves my cooking." she rasped, eyes slimly showing.
All you can spotlight on is her gropey hands, jerking you like some toy, it felt too fucking good. Too pleasant to snuff, too divine to scold, exhilarating to your veins sore with salaciousness. Then, you route back to a ponder, what more could she stipulate? 
"M' gonna go to the bathroom," you swat her hand out and jostle your fly up, netting a coo of amusement from Ellie– secretly.
"You good babe?" she vocalizes after, keeping her pussy–prune digits free of smear.
"Come with me." purred you, hoisting from the oaken chair.
Ellie's lids arise with tangible hots– an aphrodisia densely potent of kindiling her eyes. No anointing of sanctity will ripen her intentions, nor anchor the even throb of her cunt. For a throb is a hymn, to you. She wants you, and she's going to have you. Moments and minutes hence, falter to compare in energy.
Cue her cheek pleating smile.
"Okay–" a light snort prances off her open lips, whirling her lap aside to skim through the tight wedge and stumbling to you, "which bathroom we doin'–"
"Just follow me," your voice aspires over, cusping your hand and snagging her calloused ones in the curve of it, "gonna' show you somethin'."
"Heh–" she chuckles dryly, tailgating with a gentle pull of your forearm.
You two whip around a door nook, glide through the foyer and advance upon a staircase. Your cotton–clad heels stroke wood planks beat by beat, soft wallops that carom off skyscraping maroon wine walls. Ribbons of lunar light dangle on and off your heads, crafting gauzy shrouds that mix and mingle off the corners with a bobbing ascent. Every wall laid reminiscent of a ritzy manor, a lacquer of lavish. 
The flight of stairs then ingress into a much thinner hall, in a much quainter space, and fitted to each doors awaiting enigma. Duller light spills through, glossing the path you took towards a fawny brown door– your bedroom.
Ellie espies the cleave of an abutting door, aiming a bead on with her index, "Wait– isn't that the–"
"Shh," you gingerly rustle air on locked teeth, shifting your arm towards the gilded rotund knob and twining with metal clicks and clacks, "bathroom was just a cover up."
"Oh~" 
"Hmm hm~" you kittenly croon.
The barrier pendulates sideward from your stride, only to be elbowed soundly back to a wisping shut.  You pinch the little knob's notch and, click, lock the door. An amused flit of breath pours from her agape lips, catching your wordless gist bereft of another second.
Ellie thrums that same old rasp, sweetening you up, "Real smooth babe, takin' us up here.." her feet coast her closer to you, kitty–cornering you to a rearwards stumble.
Plaster bumps, a welting sharp ridge– they trench in your ankle and up as your calves butt the wall, inevitably backed up. Trapped, positively trapped. 
"Well–" a scoff enlightens your latter words, "couldn't just stay there with you two fingers deep, hm?" and your 'hm' asks for her agreement, pitch yawing.
"Was 'gonna make it three, but.." 
"But?"
Her head shrouds yours in a gray penumbra, orangey–tint nose a scant whisker from brushing yours, and sends you into a conundrum with a mere utter, a tepid utter, "got uhh', something better for you." tying off with a willed lip bite.
"Oh really?" you moon with pep, hooking a calf around hers.
She smokily coaxes, "Fuck yeah– look." her knotty digits then cruise around her hips, meeting at her denim zipper and tugging that metal tab down. Fleeting as starlight, she thumbs the belt–band and chucks her jeans just beneath the ruck of her asscheek, chafing fabric to fabric with her lax boxers.
A lone brow quirks, expressing the fact that with the way she juts hers hips forward and palms her crotch weirdly– it reared too obvious, "Ellie, don't tell me–"
A springy mass wiggles against the front inseam, held in her teasy tauty grip– veins popping of course, "Tell youu whaat?" her words muff in hoarse laughter.
"Baby.." you exhale, adjoining a whiny moan. Ellie's such a goofy tease.
That simple mass in her crotch, was a sign– a clear, lucid, taintless and foretelling, that you were getting stuffed like a turkey tonight.
In counter, her exhale fuses with yours in dancing particles, so gentle, finer than purity made flesh, "Babe.." and such gentleness caresses your ears, a pureness forgotten in those divinity forsaken puppy eyes– pout moist.
You can't rend your pupils elsewhere, trapped like mice, you gape with encroaching arousal dowsing out your nerves– and drenching down below. Markedly, where you gaze now– her fingers tug the waistband down, exposing the bulbous green head of her cock in her boxers tight band, barely, literal orb of luster dabbled on the tip.
Now your eyes truly cannot escape.
Cotton tenderizes in lines around the bulge, her hand stroking above the shape. And the way you stare, fucks her mind good, speaking throatily, "God," a gulp bubbles, "can't stop starin' hmm?"
"Hehe– couldn't help but wear it?" you snap back.
"Yes ma'am," said off a grunt, pushing said bulge to your curious hand, pleading for a rub, "you gonna' suck her?" soothing is her tone, a breathless moan.
You coo, "Want me to?" and weasel your palm in circles, watching her pelvis follow.
"Uh'huh babe– mhh, need it.." she rolls the hem of her shirt up to her ribs, flaunting that strapping waist– perfectly toned.
Appetent with sure appetite, you nod, a nod that tows her lids down, down.. down, till the green born of her eyes rely on a thin horizon hawkeyeing you. A sliver of sparkle, eager in you. It only takes you dual bends of the knees, stamping chiffony flesh to cold oak and your fingers tucking in her underwear– to excite Ellie.
"Yeah, m'gonna suck her, suck that cock." you mouth in broken vowels, steeping breath on her firm navel pouch.
"Fuck.." she nimbly grunts and tosses her head back, tightening skin on the jounce of her adams apple, swallowing.
Giving tender pressure on her boxers, you slither them netherward until they sojourn atop her bunching jeans fixed above the knee. You swear, those quads of hers clench at your brushing touch, causing your sights to skip up on that dangling cock. Wow. The fat head pokes your nose–tip, curbing up as she cradles its silicone girth to palm.
"Hold uh'," what you expected to be 'up' erupts as a tiny grunt snuffing, eyeing her other hand concealing her lips with a muffled 'puh' to top, "there we go." that hand draws down to smear her spit along the length, squelching mildly.
"Mhh–" you hum shorn of audible sound, batting keen breath on her strap, "–so big.."
You tell her that, everytime. And everytime, she revels in that negligible fact, shutting her eyes in skin–sheathed darkness– pinpointing on how too–too hot that seems. And the way you say it? Oof.
Ellie tacks five fingerprints on your head's crown and coaxes in flits of force, easing you on, "My god, babygirl– oooh.." she relishes an oval–mouthed moan, watching your lips wrap her cockhead.
And it's warmer than anything you've gobbled so far this eve.
Balming a heat like that, tucked in her boxers so neatly and snug– it tickles your gums. Soft and pliant, your lips are, they crease and roll under as you swallow her in, impressing a pit on your tongue when they meet.
"Hhmmm.." you moan a mouthful on the frothed up silicone, dragging your lips back over to motion a bounce of your head.
"I know~" she coos to your bumble, pucking her hips with an equal piston to her pelvis, "them' lips feel goood– fuuckkk.." as if you can feel them, dork.
You clasp her thickness in hooks of your tongue, sending splotches and globs of spit to pool around your oval–ringed mouth, courtesy of her tip bumping your throat in, "Guh- guh, guh, guhh–" prods. 
Ohh, that birdsong. The quaffing of your vocal bands subject to her humps, producing a rhythmic beat to alight her hormones. Your song worthy of hearing. You wimp the swelling sink that her nails wreak, a flicker between cuspate tapering and a meek love– a calling for more.
Enlighten me a morsel of those twisted, dirty thoughts, auburnhead devil.
Leathery wads of her free digits roam hot on your pulping cheeks, chiseling out as you suck. Her fingers then find themselves arcing a tuck behind your ear, thumb printed to your temple. A dash of encourage, she presses, a truer than blue visage, she contorts ran by pleasure. Squelch, suckle, drag spit, and repeat.
Due to your stretching spread of lips taking her well, likeness of a blockade in your mouth, you couldn't speak. Obviously. So over the wish–wash of saliva, Ellie tunes you in with her filthy comments.
"Suckin' my filthy cock.. fuck–" she pauses with a gruff moan, baking in your brain deep, "gonna' make me cum so goood–" her vowel strains, clenching her pussy lips around nothing except the cool, cruel air, "yes.." 
A reed of cold nips your chin, seconds hence realization settles; you're getting sloppy. A manifestation of Els actually fucking your noggin to slosh, wouldn't spark surprise if liquid poured from your cranium at this point.
Her own arousal rots you further down, too.
With the feeling of her cock climbing near hellward down your throat, smacking on the gummy walls, and the husk her moans endure, crucifies your pussy with an ache of want. Fabric of your jeans suffers a beat, your clit, throbbing. It hurts so good and it stings so right, so tight, you need her now.
A faster bob you give, the more Ellie can't take it either. 
"Babe–" she hawks out, but fails to halt your bopping movements, "babe, fuck–" the digits parked behind the conch of your ear skip and push your jaw up, staking her cock out with a spring. 
"Ghh– schhlp, huh?" a chuck of spit muddled your words, unfurled tongue lapping up every web left by your messy, messy mouth.
Nook of her hand like a cusp to your jaw, she beckons you with a nudge, and rasps, "Up– c'mon, n'turn that ass around." 
Ass. Something about that word reverberated in you, bothered you hotly, made a tepidness leak from your cheeks. The rasp she rung it with, eyeing you with twin fern flames for irises– an approaching engulfment to marry your skin with ashen blessing, more consuming. Ass, Ash, haha.
A flutter in your hips spreads like fire across your legs. It weakens the muscle you bend, standing upright challenged resemblant of a feat, especially when Ellie's grabby gropes found purchase in the crevice of your hips, spindling you on a quick axis. It wanes the composure you hold like a goblet, dwindling to shattered shards across the floor, primarily as those bedeviled claws slot under rough woven denim and remove them false of trouble and trick– ruching to nothing at the root of your ankles.
Where happy hubbub clamors downstairs, pleased pandemonium moans upstairs.
A jut of two knobby hip bones thump into each asscheek, denting the skin into a gully. Warmth, a ligature of it rides through your backside, making you shake. Not like her hands would let you tremble, one being so immovably returned to your hip.
"Fuuck that pussy 'been waitin' for me, huh? Can just tell.." mumbles her with vocal fry, pupils ogling bare of shame at your cinched folds, clasping nothing.
"Your fault."
"Oh really?"
"Mhm.." you hum timidly.
"Gonna call me dickhead again, or–" a fat ball teases the dripping lips of your pussy, spreading them slightly and sloshing the skin around, "Is this enough?"
To give way, was a mistake, buckling your pelvis deeper on her cock which faces a grip ardent to shaft– teasing with rolls of her wrist. The cockhead, or literal dickhead, warps and smooshes against your clit as she toys with it. A whiny, "Huuh– Els.." mangles in your larynx, pitching.
"Yeah, you like that? Know you do." that damned smirk lives in her curving tone, sweet with a dash of tang. Her cock dilates your delicate folds further, exposing the velvet flesh to cold air and an intrusive visit. 
Your fiendish pussy kisses her cocktip and ceases its movement, clamping her in place, whimpering, "Mhh, ahh– ah.." 
"Hey, 'lemme go– was just getting started babe," she laughs crisply, landing a fine plume touch to your ass, "c'mon.. loosen up.."
A flux of slacken tires the muscles that clamp her in, hugging your entrance more softly around her tip.
Ellie winches weight on her knees, crouching her groin into you with a slow swerve, "There we go.." she purrs with tension in her tune, relieving a sigh when her cock pops in silkenly.
You seize up, gasping sharply, hips begging to break brittle in her grasp of iron– but iron does not deform easily. Pressure stays pressured, and digits knurl over the hill of your hip bone to prop it upright. With walls expanded on her cock like your pussy was made for her, it humbles you, belittling you to sludge in her metal caress.
"Fuuckk yeah–" she broadens her sigh of bliss, abrading on the 'K', like a crackle. Pleasure kills neutrality in the smoothest way, gathering grooves in her forehead, "y'feel so warm baby.. mhmm–" 
"That's not even your dick.." you half–way give a giggle, suppressing the moans you choke up.
A tense whistle of air sounds from Ellie's nose, a reaction of vague irritation, "Swear to god.." her tongue smacks after and a sudden thrusting of her fat cock catches your mind astray, winding those choked moans out. 
"Uhn– uh fuck, huhh–" you babble.
"Not my dick huh? Who's fucking you? Tell me, fuck– yeah?" Her words warble where skin smacks, wetness palping in obscene squelches. 
Does she really expect you to answer when her cock continually swells your cunt and abuses your g–spot? Yeah. Ellie will fuck the answer from one hole to the other, if she so feels compelled to.
But of course, you don't answer.
"Baaabeee," she taunts, "baabyyyy," and tortures, "who she getting fucked by right now, tell mee.." and fucks, cooing purer than vernal spring washed in the rain, mushing globs of pre–cum all over your cervix.
"Y-you.."
"That's right."
This feels almost violating to your vagina, to be stuffed like this. Did she size up? Get a new strap? Whatever the case presents itself as, it felt fucking good. Made you woozy, each bop she played like a drum on your sore ass, summoning a white ring of creamy sap to veil around her cock's girth. White droplets failed to envelop her cock, though, each jiggle of your muck bodies lashing beads of it onto the oak boards, your thighs, her pretty auburn bush, etcetera. Attempting to grab the wall, duh– that fails, then you scramble jittery digits across said wall, awkwardly finding a rigid door trim to grasp at long last– speak of the devil, Ellie laughs at that.
"Haha– aww, too big for you princess?" she utters to you like a dumbass, ego brimmed with the pumps her cock skids on your gummy walls, smirking with thinned lips.
Vulnerability loathes humility, "Fuck y–you."
"Sure."
Her perception of sight, harboring verdancy, drops low to your bulging hole that swallows her good– as you should, tender milk that pools inwards as she slides out, and froths a flood of slick when she humps it back to the same hole it spilled from. 
Might she indulge more sampling?
Ellie's hell–sworn index traces your swelling folds mellowly, togging a cap of pearly cum on her finger pad. Scrutinize, then she licks. Her peach lips kiss her finger softly, puckering wrinkles as she sucks the sleek off, "Sssmhpt–" her lips zip, "yeah–ha, that's what 'm taking about–" delighted, she is.
The knot in your womb begins to coil and fill, a rapturous sting impaling inside. Your folds, springing on her friction, sends a ripple to fluctuate in your ass cheek. Enticing. So enticing, Ellie grabs a handful, bloating fat strokes of your buttcheek between the webs of her delirious fingers.
"Ghh– yes.. yes–" she growls, deep in her lungs. The harness in return rubbed her clit in all the right ways, electrocuting her legs with a twitch, "arch that bsck f'me baby, c'mon– arch on my fuckin' cock–" 
Harking her, you heed. Heed with a convex draw of your back, protruding your ass out for her messy usage. That– that was the last straw, her only straw. You being so keen. Something less than a mutter of, "Good girl." was the last audible voice you could pick up, her game swapping to a faster ramming into your sloppy pussy.
"Ellie!" you wince, praying on a star, "So g–good.." you gape and fall forward, smearing slobber on the drywall.
Her cock was too much. 
A tear soaked upon that very wall, gifting it a taste of your salty heaven.
"Mhmm– god, fuck fuck fuck! You're so good, s'good t'me.." a breath shuddered, she limps forward onto you. Her pale hips still punishing with a litany of humps, now scores deeper on your gushy cervix, her drenched chest marking hot on your clothed back.
"Needa' cum– Els, babe.." why you were even asking, might flummox a future specter of yourself– purling on her thickness, feeling the endless tension pull from you in strings of cum, kissing the head of her cock, you were on the train track to cumming already. Dumbified questions really egged Ellie on, luckily.
"Yeah baby, want'chu to– all over her, she needs it, mhm–" she assures you, two foam–spit lips stamping your lobe, "feel that baby?" her elbow mounts like a belt to your hip crest, ducking under and tamping your womb, palm to pudge, and intones, "She's so fucking deep– shit.." 
Spade of her cock punching your walls, over and over, you finally snap. The added hand to your belly, sought it done. Done well, pronto. 
You convulse in tight vices to squeeze her dick, orgasm shaking you to the literal core, "Huunhh– Ellie, Els! Ssuhh– Ell–" a clammy paw wedges your mouth from splitting the walls with your uproar, fingers tender on your lips cushion.
"Shh– shh.. not so loud babe, take it easy–" snuffing you, she talks clemently, little grunts detailing you on how close she was, too, "that's it.. don't hold back baby– uh, fuck."
Her cock fucks you just right, blows you fried so easily, with every heavy lunge– you weep.
A pang twisting inside averts a sightly gaze to the beautiful coastline of darkness, pure oblivion. Fuzzy dollops of faded splotches prance your vision like a sick joke, mocking your high. You can't even croak, not even a peep, just sit back and let cum dribble from your hole, plashing her filthy cock in a sick mess.
Right on a dream–like cue, a snarled groan mauls from the deepest depth of her diaphragm, fresh on your ear, "Ghhodd– fhmm, good fuckin' pussh– mhh!" 
Splash.
Her lids squinted tight, nose flared wide, she came. In waterfalls you couldn't observe, but swore you heard. A geyser to the floor, hyaline ribbons of her precious flavor taint the floor so disgustingly, so vividly, it shines.
Guess the wine loosened both of her lips.
She usually does not cum like that.
Damn.
Muggy exasperation fans your neck in ghostly hands that wrap, a recalescent mist baying for some kind of relief in dramatic swells and shrinks her chest pushes into you. Then, something moreso flobbed, a chuckle.
"Heheh–" her fingers slip from your lax lips, tapping kittenly on your chin.
"That's was, mhh– um–" you huff, dead of air just like her.
"Good?"
"Yup, just– couldn't.. oof.." 
Her lips purse and plant a kiss to your scruff, grinning against the flesh, "Did good for me," moist smacks besmirch further, rasping, "felt so good t–"
A beating of hardy steps peals through the door's underside, sending a wash of shock over both of you abruptly.
"Fuck." Ellie's voice muffles sotto voce, darting grips to your folded hips, thumbs tacking on the streched knoll your ass provided.
You perk your ears in tune of this noise, gut instinct curls and kicks your body to move, bucking back on Els– who mind you, was still sheathed inside you.
That knocked another grunt from her, "Hmmph– don't do that– god, babyy.." she whines, runting back into you.
Hole stuffed back up, you clench your fists into a ball. This idiot.
"Ellie? You in there?" A familiar, dense, Texan drawl aptly known as Joel's, beacons from beyond the door.
That's bad.
"Shit what do I–"
"Get off, for onee–" a tense on your chords, you huff, bucking her muck sweat thighs off your hind and skidding out her cock pronto. The sudden emptiness was jarring, but, no time to waste.
"Fuck! Again–" she hisses.
You crouch your bare bum inches from the floor and swoop up the pooling pile of denim and cotton panties, rearing them up and fiddling with the metal button. Ellie followed suit, the best of her abilities– sex really fogs up her faculties, and pressed her cock plumb to her stomach as to tuck it properly her boxers, letting the band snap in place on waist– gently.
Triple knocks erupt, and then his bellow, "Kiddo?"
"We're good, we'll be down!" she calls back, eyes far from not studying your scurrying silhouette, just has to comment, "–fuck that ass." like she wanted more.
A grumbled 'Hmm' vibrates on the oak, trailed by fleeting footsteps that trudge away, thump, thump– you get it.
"Oh?" you kink your whisper, foxily, "second rounds?" and pivot around to face her.
"Mphht– not what I meant, dickhead." her voice deepens weirdly at the brink her sentence plonked upon, cocking her head with a smirk.
"Whatever." your eyes roll, capering off the room's corners.
"Hmph–" gruffed in amusement, "Cutie." gingerly steps huddle you right against that wall again, two biceps meeting warmth–to–warmth with your soaken shirts waistline.
Scoff, just scoff, "I think this is how second rounds start, liar." 
She goes all bumbly, furrowing those bushy orange brows and frisking her eyes in a roll, copycat, "Don't get me started, pleasee." she begged fakely, cadence dense.
"Too late."
"You're right." her lips, wisp to yours so perfectly timed, interlocking one pink bud under your top lip and butting noses, plushing together in tide. Even plopped a little smack to the clad meat of your ass, how sweet.
A scant hint of dinner lingered on her breath, passed to you like a spill. Makes you want to slink those stairs in one go for a different palate of seconds. But, alas, you two bet smooches on the hope of no further interruptions, scarfing up kisses like hungry dogs.
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(pls lmk if u wanna be added to the perm list, some mentions didnt work!)
@whore4abby @aouiaa @ellieslittlewhore @baumbii @tlougrl @mina-281 @beabeebrie @elliewilliamsisactuallymygf @nicolicht @cosmikoo @xinyaya @sawaagyapong @reinersbigolboobies @brunettedolls-blog @syrenada @fairyysoiree @p4ison1vy @nil-eena @hi2647 @disaster-bi-suki @rarestdoll @narieater @hrtmal @eudaemoniaaaa @ellie-07063 @luvfaeri @carleenaelaine @kissyslut @ellieswh0r3 @beemillss
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thevillainswhore · 4 months
Text
New Tricks: A Pure Love
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Pairing: Virgin!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Word Count: 11.5k
Summary: From first kisses to first dates, the two of you have come a long way from pining over the other in secret and innocent touches during an unplanned movie night. But now, what once was a forbidden fantasy for an unattainable crush becomes reality when you coach Bucky Barnes through losing his virginity.
Warnings: College AU, brother’s best friend!Bucky, fluff, swearing, teasing, smut, loss of virginity, unprotected p in v sex, nipple play, handjob, praise kink, size kink, big hints of subby Bucky, dorky Bucky, love confessions.
Author’s Note: Beta and dividers by @rookthorne, she’s been my rock through this whole AU. Words will never be enough to thank you my love ❤️ Here is part three and the final instalment to New Tricks’ main storyline 🥹
New Tricks Masterlist 🌼🐾
New Tricks Playlist 🎵
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Your evening together has been magical, something pulled straight out of your dreams. The visuals of the bright, glowing stars and planets are nothing in comparison to the smile that pulls at Bucky’s mouth, even after the two of you left the museum.
During the walk back to your dorm with Bucky, he talks constantly and animatedly about the planetarium — recounting his joy for all the astronomical wonders he got to witness up close. And listening to your boyfriend’s contagious glee for a date you put together has you grinning from ear to ear.
In the late hour, you make a stop on your way back to the local twenty-four hour dessert parlour that is close to your dorm, opting for two single scoop ice cream cones. Bucky chose chocolate; you chose strawberry, and you stroll hand in hand down the Brooklyn cobblestones.
 
“I still can’t believe you don’t like chocolate ice cream, Bee,” Bucky accuses with his mouth full, shaking his head with a high sense of mock disapproval.
You roll your eyes playfully and scoff. He hasn’t stopped complaining about your dislike for chocolate flavoured treats since you revealed that snippet of information while you perused the options available to you at the parlour. “How many times are we going to go over this, Buck? Strawberry is superior,” you tell him with a proud smile. 
“Absolutely not!” Bucky gasps, outraged. “I refuse to listen to this slander against chocolate.” 
“Drama—” Your retort is cut short by him pressing you against the wall of the building next to you. The cone of ice cream in your hand almost topples precariously, interrupting you mid lick, and he ignores your surprised shout of, “Hey!”
“We are settling this right now, Buttercup.” He looks deep into your eyes with dire seriousness. “You’re gonna try mine and tell me that you like it.” The cone of chocolate ice cream appears in your peripheral vision. 
“Bucky!” You laugh. “I haven’t tried chocolate ice cream in years!” 
“All the more reason to try it now.” He holds his cone up to your mouth, a twinkle in his bright blue eyes and a pout on his plump lips. “For me?”
“Y’know, you can’t keep bribing me with those puppy eyes — No matter how handsome you are.”
With a cheeky smile, he whispers, “Is it working, though?” 
Sighing in defeat, you can’t help the upturn of your lips at his charm. “You’re lucky you’re cute. Hit me with it.” 
Like the cat who got the cream, Bucky closes the gap between you and the cold treat, letting it slightly touch your lips — the cold sensation makes you shiver, and you tentatively stick your tongue out, slowly laving it up the side of the scoop of ice cream. 
The strong taste of cocoa and sugar doesn’t impress you, and you flick your gaze towards your boyfriend to say as such, only, he’s homed in on the motion of your tongue while you lick the last remnants of cream from your lips. 
He shudders, the strong line of his shoulders shaking with the force of them, and he pants quietly. The rise and fall of his chest is uneven while his blue eyes darken to a stormy grey. 
It's difficult to contain the satisfied smirk growing on your lips as you ask teasingly, “You good, baby?” 
Bucky gulps, unsuspecting of such an innocent act to affect him so much. “I’m uh— I’m good.” His head bobs up and down, no real confidence in his answer, but his stare still pins you in place and he bites his bottom lip. “How’d you like it?”
 
“Hmm,” you hum, then you lick your lips again — just to make sure they are entirely clean, of course. Bucky’s eyes follow the movement with rapt attention. “I have to say…” The urge to use pretence to answer his question makes you want to burst into laughter, but you soldier on with the truth. “I’m sorry, honey. I still stand by my initial statement.” 
The erratic movements of his chest abruptly cease, and his eyes never leave yours while you lean forward, closer to his lips. “But,” you whisper, the tips of your fingers dancing up his chest. Every touch builds the deepening tension swirling in his eyes. “It doesn’t hurt to try something new every so often, Puppy.” 
You reach up to the corner of his mouth and swipe the smudge of chocolate ice cream left there with your thumb, then suck it into your mouth, releasing it with a wet pop — it feels like you well and truly break his resistance. 
Bucky’s fingers twitch against the cone by your lips, and it crumbles. The forceful puffs of air from his parted lips blow against your mouth, the inevitability of him pouncing on you any second undeniable. 
Rather than making it easier on him, you smirk and push him back by his shoulder. “Never hurts to experiment — Try new things. You never know.”
The dazed expression on his features is innocently sweet, and you try not to laugh as he reaches out for you to drag you back, but you dodge his hands and walk away, out of reach. You look at him over your shoulder and lick up the dribbling cream that almost reaches your hand. 
Bucky stares after you, mouth agape. “I— What—” He shakes himself back to reality, and he licks his lips, brushing his long hair back with his fingers and he throws his crumbled ice cream cone into the nearest trash can — no longer interested in that sweet treat. 
Bucky’s long strides work to catch up with you, a new kind of spark in his eyes you haven’t seen before. “Something new, huh?” 
“Yeah, handsome,” you purr. The steps to your apartment come up, and you take the first few with your back to Bucky, a smirk playing on your lips. Just as you reach the entryway door, you look over your shoulder at your boyfriend, who returns your coy smile with a hesitant one of his own. “Sometimes you’ve got to just let go and give in.”
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Bucky stands behind you while you unlock the door to your dorm. The material of his button up shirt scrapes against the bare skin of your arm, and you try to suppress the shiver that runs down your spine, but it's useless. The air is charged with a thick tension unfamiliar between the two of you, and you feel as though you're swimming in new territory, wading into the depths of the unknown. 
“I had a great time tonight, Bee,” Bucky says quietly over your shoulder; the urge to kiss the skin there too tempting for him not to fall into. 
A shiver ripples down your spine from the sensation of his lips tickling your skin, and you stop just as you’re about to open the door. They move carefully over the slope of your neck and up to the lobe of your ear. 
Reining in your arousal, you turn around and agree with a broad smile. “Me too, handsome.” 
His eyes flicker between you and the door to your dorm. You hold his hand while the other rests on the handle behind you. “Ready to go in?” you ask. 
Bucky clears his throat. “Mhm,” he mumbles, and with his confirmation, you open the door. Immediately, the glow of orange lights grab his attention as they dance on the ceiling. Lit candles are placed on surfaces around the room, while your vinyl record turntable plays soft music.
The ambiance seems to both intrigue and calm Bucky, and you feel your own shoulders loosen. Thank you, Nat, you think inwardly.  
“Come on,” you whisper, urging Bucky further into your dorm room. He walks forward wordlessly, and with him out of the way, you close and lock the door behind you both — it affords you a solitary second to process the secret desire that has been stored away for so long. 
A guilty pleasure about your brother’s best friend that you revelled in at one point in time is becoming a reality. 
There is no means to do that now, to stow it away in secrecy — he stood behind you, right there in reach of you, no longer a fantasy. 
The door locks with a muffled click, and you turn around to see Bucky standing by the foot of your bed, head bowed and fiddling with the hair tie around his wrist. Slowly and steadily, you edge closer to him, careful not to make any sudden movements that will spook him. “Bucky?”
His body tenses slightly, his shoulders almost reaching his ears as you near him.
“Sweetheart?” you repeat, and you tuck back some of the hair that kept him hidden — a curtain he didn’t want to peer through. A dazzling pair of ocean blue eyes meet your own; swimming with anxiety and the desperate craving for direction. 
“Hi, you.” Your voice soothes him, and he instantly melts into you — callused, trembling hands rush to seek contact, finding their home around your waist.
“Hi, Bee,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours. 
The soft instrumental of guitar chords pacifies the ambience. “How are we doing?” you ask gently. 
Bucky swallows the lump in his throat, and there’s a shaky, tremulous quality to his voice when he answers with, “Nervous.” 
You place a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose, hoping to calm him. “About what, baby?” 
Leaning slightly backward to better look into his eyes, you notice there is a storm of emotions swirling through his irises. In an attempt to soothe the hurricane, you comfortingly rub your hands down his muscled arms. 
“S— Sex.” His neck flushes with patchy red blotches; a staple of whenever he is flustered. 
You hum soothingly and nod your head, acknowledging his worries. “You know, we don’t have to do it if you feel like you’ve changed your mind, sweetheart. I was nervous for my first time, too.” Your fingers wrap around his arm to squeeze gently, grounding him in the wallow of nerves. “It’s okay if you’re not ready.” 
“No.” Bucky shakes his head, gulping. “I— I want this. I really want this.” There is such conviction and assurity in his voice that you cannot help but kiss him softly. He pulls back and his breath shudders. 
“You’re completely sure about this?” you ask once more, making sure to give him the space to reject your advances if he feels the need to. 
“Mm.” Bucky nuzzles into your neck, taking comfort in your embrace as he mumbles into your skin, “With everything I have.” 
You grasp his face into your hands with the most care and love you can possibly manifest to bring him out of his safe retreat, and you connect your lips with his again. 
The motion comes easy to Bucky now, natural. He has no fear and certainly no hesitation to kiss you the way he likes, with tenderness and an urge to claim you as his own — his mouth moves over yours in a synchronised dance, the steps familiar, but it still feels new, thrilling in nature.  
Snaking your hands down from his cheeks, your fingers leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake over his neck. They stop over his collar, and you look into his eyes to gain permission to undress him. “Can I?” 
“Yeah.” He’s relaxed enough in your hold to not allow nerves to hinder him just yet. 
You begin to make your way down his covered chest, and with the utmost care, you unfasten each button effortlessly — tan skin, smooth as silk and dotted with a pattern of sun kissed freckles, is revealed with each undone button, and you have to tamper down your impatience to rip the shirt straight off of his shoulders. 
“You’re so gorgeous, Bucky,” you breathe in disbelief, and your palms slither back up his body, sneaking over the ridges of his abs. “And all mine.”
“Ah–” Bucky gasps and jolts — your nails, longer than usual, brush over a responsive area of his stomach and you grin into his neck. 
You skim the tips of your fingers over the planes of his pecs, and over his shoulders to finally slide off the material veiling the godly sight of his body to you. Of course, you have already seen your boyfriend without a shirt on before, but right now, in the glow of the candlelight and the orange hues dancing over his skin, he looks like he’s been sculpted from the angels themselves.
“Bee…” A dust of pink decorates his high cheekbones, still ever so shy with your compliments. 
You open your mouth to reply, but Bucky thoroughly shocks you as he begins to unbuckle his belt, the muscles in his stomach tensing as his hands work to free the leather from his slacks. 
You watch, breathless, while he pulls down the slacks to reveal a pair of tight black briefs that do nothing to hide the growing bulge. Bucky is fucking huge, that much you make out from the strain of the material, and you’re almost sure he isn’t even fully hard. 
“Oh my god.” The sensation of your quiet divulgence against his ear elicits a sudden moan from his lips. You will never tire of being the cause of that sound. 
The rush his vocalised pleasure evokes has you beginning to reach behind your back to unzip your dress. However, Bucky hesitantly stops your hands in their haste. “C— Can I do it?” he stutters, eyes wide and glossy. “Can I undress you — Please?” 
It would be a crime to not allow him after a plea so sweet. 
With your nod of approval, he takes a deep breath, calming his nerves before he makes his way behind you. You feel his fingers hover over your back, tentative and unsure and it takes him a moment until he sighs in finality. 
He pinches the zipper, tiny in his long fingers, and he slowly descends the barrier downwards. The spaghetti straps slip off one by one — his knuckles gently skim over your shoulders until they trail down your arms, and with a quiet flutter, the entirety of your dress falls to the floor, leaving you in just your lingerie.
You wait patiently, letting Bucky take in every inch of your half naked form. Moments pass by and your combined breaths — one steady, the other erratic — ricochet through the room. 
“Sweetheart?” You feel the strands of his long hair sweep across your skin as he looks up at the sound of your voice. “Would you like to get my bra?” It’s an offer, a choice for him to decide on his own terms without the pressure. 
Stunning you with his growing confidence, he begins to unfasten the material — the straps fall down your arms with ease and you gently let it drop to the floor. 
Bucky gulps harshly, then. The realisation that your breasts are on display for the first time to his eyes hitting him like a truck. 
Stepping around your figure to come to your front, he keeps his eyes on your face, never once looking away as he kneels to the ground. His nimble fingers work to slip your heels off, taking care to help you place your bare feet down onto the carpet without letting you trip, and he kisses your lower thighs. Once he’s finished, the palms of his hands rub up the back of your calves and squeeze while he rises to stand.  
His gaze still doesn’t stray. 
“You can look, Bucky — It’s okay.” 
Only with your go ahead do his eyes dart down, taking the entirety of your body in at once. A harsh inhale of breath catches in his throat, the rise and fall of his chest is rapid while his fingers twitch by his sides. His gaze locks onto your breasts — guilty as charged with his basic instincts.
“Puppy,” you call out to him, parsing through the growing fog of desperate need in his mind, visible by the glint of hunger across his irises. “Come here.” 
His eyes shoot up, searching your expression for any sense of mocking, and he finds none. There is a desperate gleam in his cloudy, misted gaze — frantic for guidance and reassurance still. “Come here, baby,” you whisper, holding your hands out for him to grab hold of. “It’s alright.”
The steps Bucky takes are rigid, robotic — not allowing himself to lose what little control he has left. You vow to change that. He stops at a small distance in front of you, further away than you care for, and you take the bait to bring yourself closer until your nipples skim across the bare planes of his skin. 
The sensation steals your breath away, and Bucky squeezes his eyes closed, clenching his fists at his sides — it takes you back to your movie night together all that time ago, when the voice in his mind told him to hold back, to not give in to the urge to reach out instead. 
And that just wouldn’t do.
“None of that, sweetheart,” you coo, softly. “I’m gonna need you to open your eyes so I can see you.”
Like magic, he flickers his eyes open, and he swallows around the lump in his throat. 
“There he is.” You smile reassuringly at him. “Deep breaths for me, baby. You’re doing so good.” 
Bucky takes a small moment to do as you say, treating your word as gospel. His mouth works furiously over the words that won’t seem to come, until he settles on a breathless, “You’re so beautiful.” 
The way he’s devouring you with his eyes says volumes of his true meaning, and you couldn’t find it in you to mind that he was speechless.
You gently tuck the hair that’s fallen into his eyes behind his ears. “Oh, baby,” you whisper back, holding his face in your hands while a torrent of emotions that vary from awe to trepidation threaten to sweep you away. “You’re something else. I’m so lucky.”
A small huff of laughter falls from his parted lips, and he begins to grin, a cheeky pull at the corner of his lips that spreads warmth from your core to the tips of your toes and fingers. “If only you knew how much the guys on the team make fun of me for saying the exact same thing.” 
The two of you share a small bout of laughter — a wholesome moment to cut the charged air and be yourselves for a second.
You slide your hands down from his face down to his chest, feeling the steady pitter patter of his heart that’s calmed down from the fast thrum — the soft smile you give him forces a heavy exhale of breath from his lungs, and you revel in the one you’re given in return. 
“Good to keep going?” You check in once more. 
Bucky nods his head, certain. “Please.”
“Sit on the bed for me then, Puppy,” you softly direct him. 
Following behind him, sure to stay close for both his benefit and yours, he climbs onto your mattress and sits against the headboard. He holds his hand out to you, routine embedded into him to guide you onto his lap. 
It registers to him then, as your bare skin melts against his, that you have never been in this position with so little layers between you. 
Carefully, you rest your crotch — covered by your thin layer of underwear — against his. A thrill of tension stiffens Bucky’s muscles, and you smile gently at him while you shuffle your knees comfortably on either side of his thighs — fully aware that the sensation is much more intense than usual. 
“Bee…” His warm, callused hands hover over waist as you readjust yourself, and while you set yourself down on his lap, the lace of your panties swipe over his hardening cock. “Oh— Fuck.” He chokes out.
Immediately, you still. “What’s wrong, baby?” 
“I wanna touch you,” Bucky forces out, breathing heavily. “So bad—” 
“Remember to breathe, Buck,” you remind him gently, not wanting him to overwhelm himself — not this early. “You’re okay, I’m here.” 
His chest shudders with a harsh breath, and he whimpers, “I don’t know what to do.” 
The lack of experience and inadequacies that stem from it run rampant through his saddening expression, from the sheen of tears that start on his lash line, to the deep frown on his pouting lips. They lock him in place and render him frozen under you — the tense line of his thigh muscles taut beneath yours. 
You realise with a shock that while he is so eager to please, a mingling sense of shame screams that he won’t be able to make this good for you. 
“Hmm. Baby, listen,” you soothe, gathering his attention once more. His hands intertwine easily with your own and you kiss his knuckles. “How about we start off with something you do know?” 
Bucky looks at you with all the innocence of someone completely out of their depth. “O— Okay,” he stutters. “Yeah, I can do that.” 
You smile, placing a single, loving kiss to his lips. “I’ve got you, baby.” 
Sitting back upright, you slowly test a gentle roll of your hips over his crotch and instantly, Bucky gasps loudly. You grin salaciously as you witness his eyes flutter closed. But you still take care to stop, to wait a second and look for any signs he doesn’t like it — there are none, much to your satisfaction.
Slowly, you rock back and forth over his bulge, drinking in the slight, hitched moans and whines that fall from his lips. ���You’re doing so well — Proud of you.” You bring the tips of his fingers to your lips and kiss them gently. “It’s only you and me, okay?” 
Bucky’s eyes flutter; heavy breaths escaping his mouth. “You and me,” he whispers.  
“That’s right. Just us.”
“You don’t have to worry your pretty little head, Puppy,” you tease gently. Bucky bites his lip. “I need you to just relax — Sit back and let me do the thinking.” 
“Buttercup–” 
“Here.” You guide Bucky’s hands to your sides, smoothing them down the slopes of your hips, and you repeat the motion a few more times to better allow him to feel accustomed to the feel of your naked skin. “There you go.”
His hands, rough and calloused from his football training, stain your body for an eternity — caressing you with a ceaseless love and compassion. 
“Touch me,” you say, unable to simmer the blooming heat within you. 
Transfixed, Bucky’s thumbs brush back and forth. There’s still a sense of hesitation in his movements — the way his fingers twitch and tickle over your skin. But it lasts only a moment; a path of his own choice decorates your sides, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Your skin is so soft,” he sighs in awe. 
He rests his head back against the headboard with a soft sigh, and he tilts his chin down to watch you grind against his bulge. Leisurely, he tenderly brushes his fingers over your stomach, the touch of his hands beginning to drift upwards under the slope of your tits. 
“Please, Bucky,” you plead with him, the tease of having him so close is too much to bear. “Touch me.” 
“‘Kay,” he mumbles drunkenly. 
The pad of his thumb swipes over the peak of your nipple softly, a barely there sensation that makes you keen. “Yes, just like that, Pup.” 
It’s all the reaction he needs. 
With a surge of confidence, Bucky begins to massage your tits, continuing to use his thumbs to rub circles over your sensitive nipples while you grind against his growing cock. “I— Is this okay, Buttercup?” 
You almost scoff — the thought that his experimental touches are anything less than okay absurd to you. 
“Yeah, yeah,” you whine, and the reassurance of your pleasure invigorates him to move faster, steadier and more firm with his touch. “Making me feel so good, baby, keep going.” 
Lost in the feel of his touch and the insistent pressure of his clothed cock against your folds, you tilt your head back and close your eyes. The flutter of butterflies in your stomach crescendo into a frenzy the faster you move. All the while, you miss the way Bucky’s gaze is intently focusing on the way your breasts sway with the grind of your hips; how he licks his bottom lip with an urge to claim.
The sharp, intense sensation of his fingers pinching a peaked nipple between his thumb and forefinger forces a shout from your parted lips. “Fu–uck, Bucky — Ohmygod.”  Your cunt pulses and aches when his fingers stay hovering, spooked at the sudden reaction. “More, more—”
“Fuck,” Bucky groans, and he bucks up into you, matching your rhythm and this time, it’s you who’s soaking the material of your panties. “Bubs, I— Holy shit — I need more.”  
It’s an achievement you’re most excited for, that he’s freely telling you, unprompted, what he needs. 
Though, the teasing nature you held could not be dissuaded — you meet his gaze with a mischievous grin. “Yeah, Puppy?” Your hands hover over his lower stomach, the tips of your fingers dancing over the twitching muscles, and you move your index finger beneath the fabric. “Wanna get rid of these?” 
The elastic waistband of his underwear snaps back against his lower stomach, making him yelp in surprise. “Ah— Mhm,” he begs deliciously, eyes wide and completely surrendering to you. “Take ‘em off, Bee, please.”
Your bare skin brushes against his while you shuffle backwards, slowly crawling down his legs all while marking his skin with kisses and teasing nibbles, until you reach his briefs.
 
Looking up at Bucky under your eyelashes, you blink sweetly, eyeing the sweat that begins to build on the ridges of his abs. Your breath ghosts over the material of his underwear while you ask, “Can I have your cock?” 
“Oh, god,” he chokes out while his dick twitches in uncontainable excitement.
“I need your consent, Bucky.” The statement brings him back to the present, grounding him to the sight of you between his thighs and softly reminding him that everything is on his terms.
 
“Yeah,” he gasps. A few deep breaths cause his chest to rise and fall, steadying the rabbiting pulse in his neck. “Yes.” 
With his confirmation, you slowly, gently ease your fingers underneath the fabric that hid what you truly wanted — the waistband slides easily down his tense thighs. Your eyes are focusing on the new inches of skin revealed, the sculpted line of his Adonis belt that runs down to the one part of his body you’re desperate to see. 
Bucky watches you with bated breath — you’re so close to his cock, and it’s still not enough for him.
The small whine of frustration makes you flit your gaze upwards. A sheen of moisture shines over his eyes, and the pout of his lips are shining slick with spit — he looks absolutely wrecked, and you hadn’t even taken his hard cock from the confines of his briefs. 
Deciding to put him out of his misery, you finally pull his briefs down until his twitching length bursts free of the material, standing tall and thick, curved and almost purple from the strain of arousal. Your eyes follow the veins trailing up his length, and you lick your lips once you spot a pearl of precum already forming from the tip of his dick — a sweet temptation that’s teasingly begging you to have a taste. 
You’re speechless, literally awe stricken while you salivate over the length and girth of his cock. “Oh.” The slow blinks of your eyelids leave them hooded, but you continue to stare, hypnotised at the sight of your boyfriend’s huge cock. 
“B— Buttercup?” he whispers, voice tense with worry after the few seconds of silence that stretch while you stare, transfixed. “Is— Is everything okay?” 
You swallow, trying to rid the sudden dryness in your mouth. “Bucky,” you say roughly, and you look up into his doe eyes. “If I weren’t a more patient woman, I’d have your cock in my mouth and down my throat already.”
He sputters, the blotchy redness beginning to creep up from his chest to his neck. 
“You’re so fucking big, baby. Holy fuck— how do you have such a pretty cock?” you wonder aloud. 
“Shit, you can’t say that,” Bucky groans, squeezing his eyes shut as his dick twitches. The far more rapid rise and fall of his chest makes his stomach muscles contract and flutter — the sight lends ideas for the future idea of working him over into the line that blurs pleasure and pain, all to see how he takes it.
 
But you lick your lips, promising yourself to revisit that thought later. Tonight was about him. 
“Fine. I’ll behave,” you tell him, waiting until his eyes open and focus on you before you grin wolfishly. “For now.”
Bucky’s lips part to speak, but before he can work the words past his tongue, you sit up and grab his hands, directing them to your hips and over the fabric of your panties. The hold you have over the back of his hands leaves him unable to pull away — not that he desires to. 
The fabric glides over your hips with your guidance, revealing the bare skin. “Oh— Fuck,” Bucky murmurs, watching the journey the fabric takes until it lands on the floor next to your bed. 
“Buttercup,” he gasps in wonderment. “You— You’re perfect.”
It’s difficult to remain confident while your boyfriend looks at you as though you put the stars in the sky just for him — like he’s seeing an angel. “You’re a true gentleman, aren’t you?” you laugh, trying to hide the way his stare makes you flustered. 
“Don’t do that.” He shakes his head, his eyes soaking you in with such a reverence that’s dizzying. “You— Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m taking about because — Fuck. Believe me, you’re fuckin’ unreal.” 
The world seems like it stops on its axis right then and there. You know Bucky’s emotions are heightened and at an all-time high, but you also know that he means every word of what he says — his sobering eyes tell you the truth alone. 
You’re the one who becomes a stuttering mess for a moment, and you stumble over your words before you manage to regain your composure, and you clear your throat. “T— Thank you, baby.” The pause in heated touches gives you an opportunity to check in. “How are you feeling?”
Still trying to gain some semblance of control, he audibly gulps. “I— I’m good, yeah.” 
“Yeah?” You begin to steadily shuffle forwards on your knees, further up his legs to hover over his crotch, careful to not let your body graze him just yet. “You know you can back out whenever you’d like, okay? You say the word and we stop.” 
The small distance between your most intimate parts is dangerously in the balance. 
“No,” Bucky says finally, shaking his head as his hair sweeps over his face. A few strands settle over his cheeks. “Wanna keep goin’.” 
You bite your lip and smile wickedly. “You got it, baby.” 
His bottom lip is trapped between his teeth as he watches you begin to lower your body. “We’re just going to keep doing what we’ve been doing, okay, baby?” You reassure as his breathing picks up. 
But his eyes stay focused and fixated on you.
When your cunt lowers against the base of his cock, the movement pushes his length down until the tip almost reaches his belly button, and even with the visual of you resting over his length as you always did in the past, Bucky isn’t prepared for the feel of his bare dick sitting snug between your folds. His eyes shoot open while he gasps loudly and balls up the bedsheets tightly in his fists. “Shit, shit — Fuck, oh my— God—” 
The palms of your hands smooth over his tense stomach.  “Easy there, big guy,” you coo softly. “It’s okay.” 
His breathing becomes erratic as his back arches against the headboard. “Oh god, you’re— You’re fuckin’ soaked, Bee.”  
You are. Nobody else ever had this kind of effect on you, and so you certainly aren’t ashamed for Bucky to know how much he turns you on. “That’s what you’re doing to me, baby — Can’t help it,” you keen. 
His chest rumbles while he groans deeply, throwing his head back. 
The urge to move is compelling, almost swallowing you whole — Bucky isn’t the only one struggling to keep calm, with his thick length brushing your entrance and putting constant pressure on your clit, it’s a challenge to not take him then and there. 
“Do you remember when we first kissed?” you ask breathlessly before you begin to squirm. “And I asked you to think about how wet and tight I’d be for you?” 
Bucky’s muscles strain as he frustratedly tangles his fingers in his hair. “Fuck, I haven’t stopped thinking about it since, baby.” 
Your hips work a little quicker over his cock, the slide seamless from how aroused you are, and to your surprise, you feel his hips work against you, too. “How does it feel to know your inches away from slipping inside my pussy?”  
The rocking movements of his hips falter as he jerks up and jostles you, making the butterflies in your stomach flutter in a crazed frenzy. “It feels— Please— You’re killin’ me—” 
“My sweet boy,” you utter. “Don’t worry, you’ll have it soon.” 
Each and every plea and whimper that falls from his red-bitten lips only serves to turn you on even more. He tries to flex his hips to push his cock into you, to feel the warmth of your cunt around him, but even he isn’t ready for the sensation that ripples down his spine once the tip catches on your hole. 
“Fuck!��� he curses. 
Hurriedly, you move yourself away before he can slip in any further. “Nuh-uh, sweetheart, I need you to be calm for me, alright? You can have me when you're calm, not just yet. Breathe for me.”
“No — I, no no, Bee, please, don’t do this to me. I want—” Bucky vehemently shakes his head from side to side, the vein in his neck almost popping from his exertion to hold back. His hands grip your waist, digging into your skin as he drags you back down onto his cock desperately. “Please, I wanna feel—”
“Oh, Pup,” you sigh with an all too innocent smile. “You wanna be a good boy for me, huh?”
“I can, I can,” he whines. The feel of his hands pawing at your waist sends a thrill up your spine. “Fuck, I can!” 
“Yeah,” you mumble, unsure if you can hold out much longer yourself. “You can, Pup — I know you can.”
“Bee—” Bucky is a pure wreck, his chest heaving with breath, and a film of perspiration builds on his temples. You know it’s impossible for him to garner any more control, and you grant him mercy as you slightly lift your hips up to line the hole of your pussy up with his cock. 
“Bucky, baby,” you call to him, waiting patiently until his wild eyes lock onto you, and you forewarn him, “You're sure about this?”
His bright blues cloud over with a haze of lust, and you shiver when he cries, “Please.” 
“Okay, okay,” you soothe. “Alright, baby — Wait, hang on, sweetheart.” The bed creaks as you shuffle backwards once more. “Let’s get you off the headboard, so you’re comfier.”
The two of you move in tandem so his head rests back against the pillows, and you settle back over his hips, reaching out to smooth your thumb over his cheek. “Better?”
Bucky smiles and nods once, turning his head to kiss your palm.
“Okay.” You brace yourself with a steady breath, and finally sink down onto Bucky’s cock, the tip easing into your cunt with a pop. The stretch from his head alone has you squeezing your eyes shut, but you revel in the way he freezes under you, then the sluttiest whine you’ve ever heard falls from his slack mouth. 
The effort to work past the thickness of his head causes your hands to rest on his stomach, allowing him to hold your weight, and your mouth falls open with a silent scream as you drop down further, taking more of his length. 
Glancing down at your boyfriend to check on him, you find only the whites of his eyes through his hooded lids, and his fists balling so tightly in the sheets of your bed that they begin to tear. 
With a whimper, your walls clench around his cock. “A— Almost in, baby.” Another inch fills your cunt. “Doing— Doing so well, Bucky,” you pant. 
Your nails create indents into his skin while you internally build up the courage to take the entirety of his length. It feels an impossible task, one you desperately underestimated, but you were no quitter. Your walls rhythmically squeeze around him, and your breath hitches when you feel him twitch against the stimulation. 
“God, I want you,” you moan, hanging your head. An unintelligible mumbled string of words or sounds fall from his lips in reply. “Fuck it.” 
With a deep breath and a prayer for mercy, or strength, you arch your back — the wrecked moan that Bucky rasps sends a thrill of hunger up your spine. The slide of his cock against your walls makes you cry out, and you quickly drop your hips until you're fully seated against his crotch. 
“Oh shit!” Instantly, Bucky shoots up from the mattress and wraps his arms firmly around your middle, crushing you against his heaving chest. “Don’t move, don’t move, don’t move — Please — Don’t fuckin’ move.” 
You sling your arms around his shoulders in reply, and the two of you cling to one another with only your heavy breaths disturbing the quiet music in the background. The bare skin of your bodies sticks to each other, glistening in the candlelit room while the silent moments pass. 
Hot, heavy breaths fan over the skin of your neck while Bucky nuzzles his face against the juncture of your shoulder — the movement effectively burying him entirely into your form. There is no way for him to get any closer, or any way to hide his muffled sniffles and gasps for air. 
The beat of your heart steadies and thumps evenly — you pray that it is enough to calm his overwhelmed senses. “Steady, Pup — You’re alright, I’ve got you.” Gently, slowly, you comb your fingers through the damp strands of hair by his temples. “Just stop and let it happen, feel it, don’t fight it. It’s okay, baby.”
“S’too much, too much, Bee— Please, please, I don’t—” He stumbles over his words, working himself up.
“Bucky,” you say, firm but gentle, trying to reason over his rambling. “Do you need to stop?” 
“No!” He holds you even tighter. “Please no, no no, don’t go, don’t move, don’t take— Please stay.”
“Hey, hey— I’m here, I’m here. I’m staying — Breathe, baby.” You rub your free hand over his back, shushing his pleas and continuing scratching your fingers over his scalp. 
As you pacify Bucky, he begins to calm down — his breathing softens, the heightened intensity of emotions flowing easily into a quiet, content peace between you. Cautiously, you slightly lean yourself back and ask, “Can you look at me, please, sweetheart?” 
It's a gradual process as he plucks the courage to lift his head out of your neck and surrender to your request, and your heart tightens when his teary eyes bore straight into your soul. “Oh, baby,” you sigh, bringing your hands round to hold his cheeks. “Was that a lot?” 
Bucky timidly nods, his arms still caging themselves around your waist to keep you close. 
“It’s okay — You’re okay, sweet boy — Doing so good.” The deep-rooted need to reassure him takes hold, an instinct that’s embedded within you to make him feel as safe as you possibly can. “Take your time.” 
“Mm.” Bucky rests his forehead against your chest and listens to the steady beat of your heart, tethering himself back down to earth. 
The charged air that holds the weight of tension finally breaks when he blows a long breath onto your skin. “This is— This is so much better than I imagined. Fuck, this is— Bee, I think I’m seeing stars.”
“Oh my god, you fucking dork.” Your laughter fills the room, full of pure happiness and glee to be able to find such fun in sex. 
He smirks lopsidedly at you until you sigh, the amusement turning to fondness, and you kiss his forehead — almost able to forget the position you’re in. 
But you’re soon reminded as Bucky quietly rasps, “Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight — Can barely breathe.” Goosebumps run down the naked skin of your arms at the same time your cunt pulses. He grunts deeply with a sharp hiss. “You really were right.” 
“I did warn you,” you tease, giggling when he lifts his head up and playfully glares at you. Closing the distance, you kiss him deeply, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth as you whisper against his lips, “Ready for me to move now, baby?” 
“Fuck yes,” he groans.  
You don’t waste any more time. Tangling your fingers around the locks at the back of Bucky’s head, you pull and begin to smother his neck with wet kisses, the taste of salt delicious on your tongue. 
Raising your hips, his cock slides out of your pussy, leaving behind a hollowness you crave to fill immediately. Without forewarning, you swiftly lower yourself, sobbing with pleasure at how perfectly he fits inside you. “Bucky.” 
“I know,” he moans, long and low, sounding as wrecked as you feel. “Fuck, Bee — I feel it too.”  
Words fail you, the delightful feeling you’ve waited so patiently for holding you hostage as you pant into his shoulder. 
It becomes easier with each stroke to fuck yourself onto his cock, making sure to grind yourself deeper into his lap each time you come down. 
“I— I can’t fuckin’ think straight.” Bucky’s palms slide over your ass and grip it firmly. 
You laugh deliriously, high on the adrenaline coursing through your veins, and you barely notice the way you instinctively change the motion of your hips, beginning to grind into his lap in circular motions. 
A strangled sounding moan causes your focus to snap towards Bucky.  “Oh— Jesus fuck!” His fingernails dig into your ass as he hysterically pleads, “Like that, baby — Exactly like fuckin’ that.” 
Huffing with a smirk, you breathe, “You like that, huh?” 
“Yes,” he admits shamelessly. You start to speed your motion up, and the filter between his mind and lips completely crumbles. “Your— Your p—pussy feels good — So good. You have no idea — Shit — Keep goin’, please—” 
The words tumbling from his lips are cut off when you push against his shoulders, sending him off balance to lay back down on the bed with a thump. Then, resting your palms on his chest, you lean forward to kiss him. You whisper against his lips, a sly smirk creeping onto your mouth, “Hold on tight, baby.” 
Using Bucky as leverage to hold your weight, you begin to bounce on his cock. The position allows his length to sink all the way into you, his tip hitting your cervix at the right angle to make you whimper. 
“Oh, it’s so— Fuck, I’m so deep— In you.” He struggles to breathe, the wind totally knocked out of him, but he’s mesmerised and completely drowning in the sensation. 
“I know, baby — Stretching me out so much.” A fire simmers in your eyes. The muscles of your thighs burn with exertion, but you refuse to stop — especially not when your boyfriend is a fucked-out mess beneath you, trying to control the subtle flexes of his hips. 
While you’re riding him, far too engrossed in making sure you keep the rhythm steady, you miss the feral glint in Bucky’s eyes. He’s possessed by the sight of your cunt sucking in his cock so deliciously; your slick dripping down onto him and coating his dick. 
Licking his lips, his eyes lock onto your puffy clit, enlarged and throbbing in pleasure, and he inches his hand forward to experimentally swipe his thumb over your nub. His gaze snaps up to you with the unleashed moan you scream to the roof. “Fuck, Bucky!”
You're quickly pulled back forward as Bucky grabs you behind the neck, bringing you down to kiss him. His tongue slithers into your mouth, his muffled groans rumbling against your lips while he continues to buck up into you. 
The need to catch your breath has you pulling away, gasping for air.  
Bucky looks drunk — eyes hooded with a hunger blurring the blue of his irises and the black of his pupils. His pink swollen lips hang open, wet from clumsy kisses with too much tongue for his hazy mind to process.  
You hang your head low between your shoulders and cry, “Why are you so damn big, baby?” 
His hands slink down to your hips, and he gropes at the quivering muscles desperately. “Buttercup,” he tries to warn you — the cries over the size of his dick are sending him into a deeper pit of hunger. 
Your head’s already too hazy to process anything other than the feel of his cock. “I’m aching, how the fuck am I taking you right now?” 
The thrusts of Bucky’s hips speed up, and he bends his knees to plant his feet on the bed, his sole mission to fuck up into your cunt.
“Feel so fucking full, Bucky — Filling my pussy up so good.” The breathy moans fall like chants from your lips. 
The steady, punishing rhythm you maintain falters, and your breath hitches when his cock slips from your cunt — the obscene, slick sound of it slapping against his stomach filling the room. 
You pant and press your hands down on his chest while he groans to the ceiling. “Shit, I—” Bucky’s eyes glaze over when he looks down at his body, the twitch of his cock in time with the hammering of his heart under your palm. “I didn’t mean to—” 
You can’t help but giggle, and the sound immediately calms his worries — the cinch between his brows smoothing over as he looks up at you. “Don’t worry, baby.” 
The movement of your hand towards his cock has his entire focus — his tongue moves over his lips, and you watch the shine of spit; how it makes his lips an even deeper red. “Oh, fuckin’— Fuck.”
His exclamation makes you freeze. “What’s wr—” 
It clicks. 
Though you took him in your heat, felt the pleasure he can give you, the realisation hits you like a freight train that not once this night had you felt the weight of his fully erect cock in your palm; to wrap your fingers around the length and work him over.
“I can’t—”
“Shh, you’re alright,” you soothe, and carefully, you wrap your hand around his girth. Your eyes widen when you can only just connect your thumb and fingers together. “Fuck me—” you gasp, beginning to lift yourself up to line him up to slide back in. “God — You can barely fit in my hand, baby. Here we go.” 
It’s unclear to you what exactly causes Bucky to snap. 
The room whirls in your vision and you gasp with surprise as his body suddenly shoots up and with ease from the mattress, flipping you over in one smooth, fluid motion. “Oh, fuck!”
One second your back is resting against the mattress, over the rumpled covers, and the next, your boyfriend's hands are pushing your thighs as far up your chest as they can go. 
“I’m so sorry, Bee,” Bucky groans, kneeling between your spread legs — one hand holds your legs in place, the other brushes featherlight over your soaked lips. The sharp gasps for air make his voice sound hoarse and raspy.  
He stares down at your pussy, licking his lips. “I can’t—” The fingers that danced over your lips move to grab his cock, encircling it in his large palm before he rests the head of it against the fluttering entrance of your cunt. “I can’t hold back anymore, need this.” 
He doesn’t give you a chance to reply — the tip of his thumb brushes against your clit and you keen upwards, just as his cockhead slips into you. The slide of him easing into you is smooth, and the drag of his length stretches you inch by pleasurable inch. 
“Oh my fucking god, baby!” Bucky bites the inside of your calf while you whine loudly, your walls clenching down onto him — a tear rolls down your cheek, the size of him is almost too much. “Yes!”
“Fuck, s’deep. I gotta move, Bubs — Please, lemme move.” His weight shifts to cover you, pinning you against the bed while he leans close to pepper needy kisses and bites over the column of your neck. 
“Do whatever the fuck you want, Bucky, please,” you beg, “I want it all.” 
Raising your arms up to hold the headboard, you steady yourself for what is to come, and offer yourself to him on a platter, free for his taking. 
Immediately, his eyes dart towards the movement of your tits, the natural bounce of them with every aborted thrust he makes. “Hnng— Yes,” he rasps. The slow thrusts turn rough, his skin slapping against the back of your sweat-slick thighs. 
Your nipples, hard and pebbled, become his new target. “I want every fuckin’ inch of you, Bee,” he growls, swooping down and sucking your nipple into his mouth. 
The room spins from the dizzying pleasure; the veins on his cock scrape your walls, his wet tongue playing with you, the hairs above his cock teasing your clit. It all begins to wind the knot tighter and tighter in your stomach. 
“I need more,” you gasp while Bucky drags your nipple with his teeth and releases it with a wet pop. Your arms slither around his neck and bring him into your hold. “Fuck, Bucky, please.” 
Corded muscles move you up the bed, and he forces his forearms under your back to hold you close. “Whatever you want, baby.” The fast thrusts slow to a deep, dirty grind — the length of him going deeper and deeper on each circle of his hips. “Gonna— Fuck, gonna give you anythin’ you want.” 
The two of you crash your lips together and whimper into the other's mouth — heavy breaths and pants mingle while your combined sweat builds between your heated bodies. 
“Wanna cum, Buck,” you plead desperately. “Want you to make me cum; feel s’good in me.” 
A huff of breath fans over your lips, and a sly, lopsided grin pulls at the corner of Bucky’s mouth. The covers rustle and from the corner of your eyes, you see him planting a hand beside your head, next to your ear. “Don’t you worry,” he coos shakily through his grunts and moans. “I’ve got ya, Bee.” 
His free hand drifts between your breasts and over your stomach, down to where you are connected. You gasp as the pad of his thumb settles over your clit, and he rubs in tight, fast circles, keeping pace with the thrusts of his hips into your pussy. 
Your thighs begin to shake as you cry into his neck, “Please, keep going — Don’t stop!”  
“Come on, baby,” Bucky coaxes gently. “You can do it. You can cum for me — C’mon.”
The tension in your stomach becomes unbearable — you slap the covers of the bed and ball them into your fist for something to ground you against the onslaught. “I— Ha, fuck!” You heave for breath, panting. “I’m gonna cum!”
“Let go — Can feel you, how tight you fuckin’ are. I’ll catch you, Bee.” 
Your ears ring as your eyes roll to the back of your head, the pleasure insurmountable in its height, when it finally hits you. You convulse through the waves of it, letting it consume you whole while ragged pants for air and hoarse moans fall from your parted lips. “Baby, baby — I’m cumming!”
He still continues to fuck you through your orgasm until the last tendrils of electricity run their course, leaving you a twitching mess. 
An overwhelming urge to be close to Bucky forces your hands to blindly reach out to grasp a part of him. The tips of your fingers graze the warm skin of his bicep, and he suddenly pulls away entirely — your cunt gaping and weeping at the loss of him.  
“Pup?” You whimper. “Come back, what are you doing?” 
“I’m h— Here, Buttercup,” he manages. Unknown to you, the feel of your walls fluttering against his dick almost had him finishing inside of you. His length glistens with your cum, and Bucky has to close his eyes tight and breathe to control himself.  
Stubborn as you are, you intertwine your hands with his and pull him into you, smirking lazily at his shocked gasp when his cock grazes over your cunt. 
Strands of his slick hair tickle your cheeks, and his cheeks are a deep hue of red. “Why did you stop, sweetheart?” you ask. The pupils of his eyes blow impossibly further. “You made me cum so fucking hard.” 
You’re delighted to hear the whine he tries so hard to hide. “I— I panicked,” he admits. “You almost made me cum.” 
Looking down, you see his cock twitching viscously, like he’s about to blow any second. “Aw, baby.” 
You grab his length and start stroking him in your fist — the twist and pump of your fist making him choke and sputter. “Buttercup— What are you— What are you doin’?
“Go on,” you urge him, squeezing his thick cock at the base, and twisting on the pull upwards. “Cum on me.”
“I—” Bucky shakes his head rapidly. “No— I can’t do that — Fuck this feels too good — Can’t finish on you—” 
“Bucky,” you gently interrupt him. “I’m telling you that you can.”
But he shakes his head again, trying to hold out. “Fuck, fuck — Oh, fuck — Baby I can’t please, I—”
You click your tongue and tighten your hand around his cock, pumping him harder faster, a spark in your veins and mischief on your mind. “Why not, hm? I need it — Don’t you want to give me what I need?” 
“Bee—” he pleads. “Don’t do this to me.” 
Though his words say one thing, the way Bucky thrusts into your fist tells you another — he’s dying to cum, the throb of his cock in time with his rabbiting pulse. 
You refuse to have him holding back because the voice in his head is sabotaging his pleasure.
 
“Please, baby,” you beg of him, blinking your eyes and reeling him in on your invisible line. “I want it. Give it to me.”
Bucky bows his head, the curtain of his hair concealing his blown-out eyes. There’s a heavy sigh of defeat from his lips. “Fuck, Bee— What the hell are you doin’ to me?”
Biting your lip, you move the fingers of your free hand up the back of his sweaty neck to thread them through the hair at the base of his neck, and you pull him down to rest his forehead against yours. A wicked grin dances on your lips. “I’m gonna make you cum for me.” 
As soon as the words leave your mouth, you speed up the pace, taking care to focus the pressure of your grip around the head of his cock. 
“Oh—” Bucky chokes on his own spit, his toes curling while his hips work in tandem with the pumps from your fist.
“That’s it, Pup,” you murmur delicately, scraping your fingers over his scalp. “There’s a good boy.”  
“Feels like fuckin’ heaven,” he slurs, whining as he seeks out your lips. “S’close, baby.” 
You direct him, pulling him impossibly closer to slot your lips over his; tongue and teeth caressing with little finesse. “Give me it, Bucky — Please.” The words fall against his parted mouth.
“Gonna—“ The excitement for his climax builds when you feel his cock swell in your hand, the violent twitches of his mounting release. “Gonna cum, B— Buttercup.” 
Lighting a fire to the match begging to burn, you tug his hair back in your fist, the grip tight and unyielding to bare his neck in an arch. The skin of his throat is damp with sweat, and the thunder of his pulse can be seen next to the frantic bob of his Adam’s apple. “Let go — Let go for me.” You lap at the sensitive skin with your tongue. “Make a mess of me with your big cock.” 
The long wait, the weeks leading up to this very moment are entirely worth it when Bucky collapses onto you, his moans unending and agonisingly pleasureful. His hips stutter and thrust with no real rhythm while his cum shoots from the swollen head of his cock, painting your bare skin all the way up to your tits. 
His release seems to never end, it pools over your stomach with no signs of slowing down. 
Bucky trembles with the waves of pleasure, and he buries his face into your neck, nuzzling you to try and retreat from the nonstop sensation of release. Against the sheets, you can feel the way they rustle as his toes curl — the taut line of his shoulders makes him feel bigger while he shivers and jerks over you.  
“Buttercup.” His palms frantically feel over your skin. “It won’t— Fuck — It’s not s—stopping.” 
“Shhh,” you instantly soothe him, running your fingers through his hair and holding him close to you while you continue to pump your fist gently, milking him for all he’s got. “Almost there, Puppy — let it all go.” 
Bucky sobs into your neck as the last few drops leak from his tip, and the pretty sounds of his moans vibrate against your chest. “Oh my god.” 
“So fuckin’ good for me — Did so well, my sweet boy.”
Finally, his cock stops pulsating and begins to slowly soften in your hand. As carefully as possible, you remove your hand and smooth it over the heated skin of his waist. “Take it easy for me, baby,” you whisper, pressing a gentle kiss against his tear-stained cheek. “Remember to breathe.” 
Bucky’s limbs loosen with the lull of your voice, and he eases his body down onto yours, letting you take his weight. 
The two of you lay peacefully connected together, only your shared breathing to fill the quiet of your room. The needle on your vinyl long since raised, the song finishing with a gentle lull while you were wholly focused on him — much like the simmering high that had been building since your first kiss. 
You are loath to interrupt the peace, but his heavy breathing told you that you will lose him to sleep any second now. “Bucky baby?” 
When the rumble of his muffled, “Mhm,” tells you he’s returned back to you, you smile contentedly. “Do you think you’re able to let me clean you up now, hm?” 
It's difficult to not laugh at the way he clings to you, tightening his hold and groaning, “No leavin’ me.” You smother the growing smirk creeping up your face. 
The palms of your hands rub up and down his back, and you kiss the top of his head. “I’ll be quick, sweetheart. I promise.” 
He sighs, much like a tired puppy, and begrudgingly slackens his arms and carefully lifts up off of you, rolling onto the bed next to you. “Hurry back, please.” The slight whine to his voice melts your heart. 
“Thank you, baby.” You quickly shuffle off the bed, placing your feet on the floor. “I’ll be right back.” The floor creaks under your feet, and you rise from the edge of the bed, only, you overcompensate your judgement to hold your own weight so soon — the tremble of your thighs and weakness of your knees almost has you toppling to the floor. “Oh, boy.”
A snort of laughter sounds from behind you, and you look over your shoulder to find a dazed, smirking Bucky. “I did that to you,” he gloats drunkenly. 
Your eyes widen in shock before you giggle along with him. “The cheek of you.” 
Taking slow steps, you manage to make your way into your bathroom to retrieve a washcloth. You take the time to clean yourself up while sitting on the edge of the bathtub, smiling like an idiot to yourself and rebuffing the urge to squeal. 
Upon walking out of the bathroom, your keen eyes catch the subtle peek Bucky makes through the mess of his hair, the wandering of his gaze over your still naked body. 
The blush that covers his cheeks and neck when he sees that you have caught him staring is endearing, when only moments ago he was inside of you, desperate and moaning for more.
  
To humour his shyness, you choose to pretend you didn’t see, and you make your way back to him. It is a true struggle to not give in to the twitching strain of the muscles in your thighs, or how your knees almost buckle from under you.
 
“Here we go, baby,” you sigh happily, both from seeing his soft smile and how you made it to the plush mattress without falling over. 
The warm cloth in your hand goes ignored by Bucky in favour of wrapping his arms around your middle, and he pulls you backwards into the covers until you are propped up on one side of your bed.
You hum warmly while wiping the mess of Bucky’s lower stomach, though you pause when you hover, uncertain, over his softened cock. “Am I okay to clean you up, baby?” 
Looking up at you with his puppy eyes, he nods sleepily. “You’re okay, Bee.” 
Taking care to be gentle, you wipe his most sensitive area and once satisfied, you toss the cloth towards the hamper of your room in favour of sideling up to Bucky. In the process, you turn onto your side and frame his face with your hands, waiting for his eyes to focus on you before asking, “How are we doing, handsome?”
The sound of his small laugh couldn’t make you happier, and his pearly whites gleam with his bright smile. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Buttercup.”
You giggle, a little high from the comedown too. “I take it that’s a good thing?” 
He groans deeply and licks his lips. “Absolutely.” 
You shiver and swat his chest. “Don’t be looking at me like that, you menace.” 
Bucky hums sweetly. “It was amazing— No, wait. It was better than that.” His eyebrows furrow in thought. “It was — Um— Can’t think of the word — Oh, I’ve got it! Astronomical.” 
Exhaustion is beginning to kick in for him, the very last dregs of his energy is being used to be a comedic clown — you fall for him even more. 
A sudden, hesitant doubt creeps into his eyes, the need for reassurance coming forth. “Was it—” He pauses, his eyes searching yours. “Was it okay for you?” 
“Oh, sweetheart,” you coo. The sheets underneath your body rustle as you lay down more comfortably, and you guide his head to lay on your chest, over your heart. “It was perfect — you were perfect.” Kissing the top of his head, you drive his worries away. “Trust me when I say it was fucking incredible.” 
The tenseness of his muscles begins to ease away. “Thank you…” Bucky hesitates, then moves even closer to you — once he is close enough for his liking, he angles his head up to blink at you dazedly. The emotion in his voice makes it waver when he says, “Thank you for taking care a’me.”  
“Always, my sweet boy.” You look down, watching his eyes droop. “It’s all I ever want to do.” 
“You’re so amazing, Buttercup,” he exhales blissfully. “So lucky to have you.” 
Your heart beats out of your chest. “I feel the exact same way.” Unsure you could handle any more of his sweetness, you mumble, “Now get some sleep, Puppy.” 
“Hmph — Fine.” He gives in, finally closing his eyes. “G’night, my Bee.” 
Resting your head on your pillow, you brush your finger over his forehead, sweeping his hair out of his eyes while you sigh contentedly. “Goodnight, baby boy.” 
Warmth floods your heart and a happiness like no other fills your bones, making you glow from the inside out. You’re not sure this night could be any better, and with that thought, you know you’ll rest easy tonight with the man of your dreams huddled in your arms. 
On the verge of surrendering to sleep, the quiet of the night is disrupted by Bucky's sleepy mumble, “I loves you.” 
Your eyes shoot back open, and you instantly look down, finding your boyfriend’s cheek squished against your breast with a little bit of drool gathering in the corner of his parted lips. 
“Bucky?” you whisper, the quick thump of your heart stealing your breath. There isn’t a response, not even a twitch of acknowledgement. With more urgency, you whisper, “Bucky?” 
This time you get a small, soft snore in reply. 
You lay your head back down onto your pillow to stare up at the ceiling. The thoughts and doubts swirl viciously, the intensity of each and every one making you gulp, though one stands out among the rest: did he just confess his love for me? 
There was the possibility of you hearing things — the comedown of the high you’ve been floating on messing with your head. 
It’s not long before all of the day’s events catch up with you. The slowing blinks of your eyelids lasting longer and longer each time; the laxness of your muscles as they settle in for a much-needed sleep. But the question on your mind bears a heavy weight while you succumb to sleep. 
Does Bucky love me? 
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The rays of the morning sun shining through the white drapes either side of your window are the first thing you become aware of as you wake up the next morning. With your eyes closed, you can see the yellow and amber glow of the sunrise. 
A strong envelopment of warmth and comfort keeps you rooted in place, as well as the heavy weight of an arm across your middle. You don’t want to move from your spot, you don’t want to wake up yet; still basking in the afterglow of yesterday’s events. 
But the second sensation, the mantra of light fingertips mapping over your face tips the balance of sleep overtaking you in favour of letting your consciousness creep to the surface.
 
Lastly, the final push, the soft, steady puffs of air tickling your nose persuades you to wave your white flag and flutter your eyes open. 
The blurriness of sleep forces you to blink until the fog clears your vision — once you’re able to see the dancing, warm light of the sun, you’re given the gift of your handsome boyfriend, already awake, admiring you with his bright blue ocean eyes. 
They’re the most clear they have ever been. 
The lined skin besides his eyes crinkle when he smiles, the pull of it making his nose scrunch adorably. “Bee,” he whispers, his voice rough from sleep. “Good mornin’.”  
It's a damn killer, the expression of his face — full of true elation and contentment, and it has you falling in love all over again. 
That’s when it hits you — the memory of last night, and what you think you heard him say when he was half asleep. 
Trepidation makes your nerves impossible to conceal, especially when Bucky is noticing every minute expression on your face. It's only a matter of time before the natural courage, granted to you with the haze of the morning, fades away. 
With a heavy gulp, you open your mouth and lick your lips. “Did, uh— Did you—?” The words die on your tongue.
Bucky’s thumb gently presses against your lips, his head gently shaking from side to side — a secret he wishes to keep just between the two of you, not shared with the birds that sing outside your window or the rays of the hopeful morning sun. 
Your eyes are wide, beginning to water with the anxiety coiling inside your chest. 
The crippling worry, however, dissolves when Bucky runs the pad of his thumb over your lips, the motion of back and forth touch grounding you. His eyes find their home deep into yours, and he finally speaks, “I love you.” 
And it’s with an ease, one that has you cursing your inner voice for ever doubting yourself, you say those three words that battled to be said so, so long ago. “I love you, too.”
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sommerregenjuniluft · 23 days
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@jegulus-microfic june 5th — more — 1108words — cw: reg has some pretty explicit dirty fantasies for a moment or two for @honeybcj and all the other james dad bod enjoyers out there<3
Regulus is sitting in his lifeguard chair, eyes trained on the long pool where people are swimming their laps. Nevermind he isn’t even on shift. Over the last few weeks Regulus has signed himself up for more shifts than ever, much to the surprise of their staff manager. Pandora too. They’ve stocked up on sunscreen and went shopping for new cute swimwear and then devoted their last college summer to spending every minute in the presence of piss covered ground, soggy fries and chlorine smelling air.
All for the sole purpose of making eyes at a beautiful couple and their toddler half the day. Or, not-couple, as Pandora has found out in passing, much to both their delight. The parents of little Harry are divorced, or not together anymore, but they still seem to get along well enough, regularly meeting up to come here and spend their days in the water. Lily, a gorgeous redhead with bright eyes and a sweet smile that occasionally makes Pandora squirm in her place and redden in the cheeks more fiercely than any sunburn. 
And then there’s James. Tall, dark haired, in his mid to end twenties, always grinning, tanned, insanely sexy and funny James. 
The sun is already low now and Lily and Harry have already gone home. On the days James doesn’t take the toddler home with him, he often stays a little longer to get some swimming in. Or just to take a nap on one of the chairs, molten popsicle dripping down and into the hairs on his stomach. His belly rising and falling in regular intervals, full lips parted, dark mob of hair a downright mess and the legs of his bathing shorts hiked so far up it should be forbidden.
The white fabric of it is drenched when James heaves himself out of the pool and shakes out his sopping hair.
Regulus’ eyes follow greedily as the older man picks up his towel and dries himself off. James rummages for his water bottle and then tips his head back and gulps. His throat is bobbing and he’s so overly enthusiastic with it that something dribbles out at the sides and along his neck. Regulus feels himself stir in his own swim shorts and he absently gnaws on his lower lip.
He has already perfectly well resigned himself to the fact that he will be an admirer from afar because how do you even walk up to a young dad and tell him you’d very much like to find out just how much of a daddy he is without overstepping multiple boundaries.
That is before Regulus gets pulled from his perverse thoughts of getting fucked deep into the mattress and stubble burn on his jaw and licking over a nipple circled by chest hair when suddenly said object of his fantasies is walking up to him, eyes squinting against the sun.
He comes to a stop in front of Regulus’ high stool and wraps his hand around the ladder railing next to Regulus’ leg, his shoulder muscle bunching deliciously. 
Regulus’ brain is currently projecting an Error404.
“Hi, sorry for disturbing you,” James says with a warm smile. To Regulus. The hot dad is talking to Regulus. “You can totally say No I was just thinking I should reapply,” he waves the bottle of sunscreen in his big hand, “and I need someone to get my back.”
Regulus just gawks, unable to form a coherent thought. There’s a dark mole right over James’ thick left eyebrow and Regulus wants to kiss it. His nose is a little crooked and his stubble looks so obscene from up close Regulus can’t help but imagine what it would feel like against the inside of his thigh, the crease of his ass.
James’ eyebrows raise and he frowns mildly, “You don’t have to, of course. I can ask someone else, it’s no iss—”
“No,” Regulus blurts, probably too quickly. He licks his lips. “I’ll do it,” he offers, his voice cracking embarrassingly, before clambering down his chair. Heat crawls up into Regulus’ cheeks and down his collarbones and he clears his throat.
A gust of realization flits over James’ face and then he grins, shamelessly. Regulus swallows. “Oh, so you’re the cute College kid Lily told me was ogling me.”
Regulus makes a panicked noise in the back of his throat, sputtering slightly.
“You really are pretty,” James murmurs, ducking closer. “I wear glasses usually, ’m sorta blind without them, really. It’s lovely getting to see you up close finally.”
“Oh,” Regulus nods, dumbly.
“What’s your name, love?”
“Regulus.”
James hums, repeating his name, slowly letting it roll over his tongue and Regulus shivers.
“I’m James by the way.”
Regulus nods again but he knew that already.
“So,” James cocks his head, “I was promised a slathering of sunscreen?”
And Regulus does just that. He lets James squirt the cool, milky white fluid on his hands and then begins rubbing it into tan skin. James is warm and sturdy under his fingers and when Regulus gets to his neck, adorned by a thin, golden chain, James lets his head loll to the side with a groan. Regulus has to work hard not to let his cock react to it.
When James turns around he has his lower lip trapped between his teeth and is watching Regulus with lidded eyes. There’s still some residue on Regulus’ palms and when James sees that, he takes his wrists slowly and brings his hands down over his bicep as well. 
Regulus is pretty sure he just sighed a little too loudly but he’s too transfixed to care. 
James hums once Regulus is done. “Thank you,” he says, tucking one of Regulus’ curls back. “I’ll let you get back to your shift then,” James mumbles, voice low and playful, “Wouldn’t want to distract you from saving lifes.”
“I’m not on shift,” Regulus replies, stupidly, basically exposing himself. He needs to get a grip.
A happy smile spreads over James’ face, “Well, then why don’t you come join me so I can keep looking at you without my glasses from up close?”
Regulus hesitates for a moment, dumbfounded by the amount of active flirting and compliments.
“I’ll share my fruit and you can tell me all about your courses and that blonde friend of yours that seems to have a thing for Harry’s mum,” James winks.
A small laugh tumbles out of Regulus, “Yeah, she’s ridiculously down bad for Lily.” 
“Oh, people who live in glass houses, love…” James smirks, starting for his spot next to the pool.
Regulus blushes a deep pink as he follows behind him.
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heck-theo · 7 days
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Okokokokok- ignore how rough and messy some of these redraws/sketches are - but it's apparently also dinosaur month?? (WHY did no one ever tell me it's Jurassic June? I love dinosaurs) And like. What if Rise but dinosaurs?!
I don't often post such loose sketches but I wanted to show these off cause I really like some of this.
Design choices and dino species + the reasons I picked them bellow (looking for potential Donnie dino suggestions):
Clothes: Without the shell they really need clothes. They'd all have pretty much the same pants to keep some unity, except maybe Mikey (I decided they should all have the same pants after I finished the Mikey sketches, not sure if I'll keep the shorts or change to pants). Accessories are a mix of pre and post finale.
Raph - I think would keep it simple and practical but would also wear nice jackets and stuff when in casual situations. I need to work on giving him an alternative outfit and tweak his accessories a bit.
Donnie - An oversized pull-over hoodie cause we already know he loves that shit. We see him wearing it all the time. Easy enough. He wears a comfortable singlet underneath so the straps of his battle sail don't rub. Nice soft fabric, tight fit so it doesn't move around, tucks it into his pants, etc. When he wears the battle sail he won't overheat so he can wear hoodies basically all year round.
Leo - He's in one of those shirts with obnoxiously large arm holes and make it cropped cause 1. I think he would 2. I want it to be different from Raph and Donnie's singlets. He usually wears the shoulder strap off his shoulder but pulls it up when he needs to. He has some of the black bandages over his mid drift atm but I might just make his pants super high waisted in the final version. He'd probably wear a bomber jacket (also cropped?) over the top for cool weather, but doesn't like to hide his feathers.
Mikey - I think he'd mostly wear hand me downs when he's younger. He definitely goes through a stage of rebelling and wanting to pick his own and would find a middle ground of appreciating sharing some of his brother's clothes and modifying them, as long as he has the choice of his own available. Not sure if that would be before or after this design. At the moment he's got Raph's old shorts (from a loooong time ago), Leo's old shirt, and Donnie's old zip up hoodie. He does have his own accessories though, including pins instead of stickers.
Dinosaurs: I kept them all as non-avian dinosaurs, AKA not including animals that are colloquially considered dinos but aren't (like pterosaurs). I wanted to keep an even split of herbivore vs carnivore just so one wasn't the odd one out. I wanted to keep most of their body structure, colours and distinguishing features the same as canon. Obviously I added tails cause, yeah, of course haha. I did want them to be recognisable as different species of dino using distinct characteristics that their species is known for. I did ignore a lot of differences though, like size and bipedal vs quadruped (although the quadrupeds might be more likely to go to all fours, especially when fighting or afraid). Leo and Donnie are carnivores so have sharper teeth and claws.
Raph - Some kind of Ceratopsian (likely Triceratops or something very similar) and he was the first idea I had for this and I'm really happy with it. I think it just suits him. Trike Raph just came to me in an unprecedented moment of genius. His spikey frill replicates his spikey shell. His sturdiness, protectiveness and willingness to kick ass when needed, all scream trike to me.
Donnie - Spinosaurus but looking for other species recommendations. More details below: So I wanted to figure out a way for him to have tech with a similar function to his battle shell (in the sense that it's something that helped him in day to day life) and so I went with spino cause one possible theory about a function of spinosaurus' sail is temperature regulation. So his battle sail has heating/cooling systems as well as other tech. A spino's sail was probably not fragile but the battle sail would also help protect it from being targeted during fights or crushed during extreme impacts. It was also thought to be used for display, and what's more of a display than a battle sail? The only problem I have with this is that it's lacking part of what makes Donnie's battle shell so great, which is that it is essentially a prosthetic. Not quite the same as how prosthetics are used in people of course, just in the sense that it is replicating the functionality of a body part that he doesn't have (I can't think of a better word). Well he does have a shell but it doesn't function in the same way that his brothers shells do, which leaves him with less defense than they have, hence a big reason for the battle shell (I hope I explained this well, it was hard to try and word properly). I can't think of a good way to do this with dinos. I was thinking of a carno or something with tiny arms, then Donnie could have tech enhanced arms but I'm pretty much ignoring body structure in the others so it would be weird to have just Donnie be affected by a difference in limb structure/functionality. I was thinking prosthetic tail but every non avian dinosaur had a pretty substantial tail. Except therizinosaurus but even they hade pretty obvious tails. I'm open to suggestions for this one if anyone has ideas. It does have to be an extinct non-avian dinosaur (anything not in Avialae), preferably carnivore but if someone suggests a really good herbivore or omnivore then I can try and swap Mikey for a carnivore. I want there to be an even split. I also wanted to give him something different on his face, like his brothers, and that could only be a little spino crest and it crowds the top of his head but I can't put it anywhere else...
Leo - A type of Dromaeosaur. I was tossing up between this and a dilophosaur where his red stripes were part of the dilo's crest, cause I wasn't sure about giving him feathers. But dilo Leo was so plain compared to the rest and the crests were hard to get looking right so I went back to raptor Leo. I can definitely imagine him literally and metaphorically preening his feathers too. You can't really see it but he does also have that big raptor claw. Raptors were smart, tactical and worked in packs so I think that suits him. I wasn't specifically referencing how some artists draw Leo's stripes coming off his face (I was just trying to replicate his stripes somehow, even though it doesn't make a huge amount of sense) but I realised afterwards that it kinda looks like that and might have been subconsciously inspired by it.
Mikey - Is an Ankylosaur. I'm pretty happy with the species but I need to work out the design of his armour plating so that it looks interesting, cool and protective but isn't too chunky, too pointy or super lumpy looking. I went with an anky cause Mikey is often hiding in his shell and he can't do the same here but he could curl up in a defensive ball. Plus I could imagine him using his tail club in his razzmatazz fighting style. A little like his kusari-fundo or nunchacku/nunchucks (not sure on proper wording).
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catiuskaa · 6 months
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reggaeton & champagne.
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PAIRING! lee minho x reader x bang chan
SUMMARY: you knew better than to go down to the club alone. and that guy should’ve known better than to mess with minho and chan’s property.
REQUESTED! by my pookie @sharonxdevi who requested this here! and it’s such a good idea, tysm for trusting me with it<3
CW: the boys may come off as a little possesive, there’s a touchy douche in the club, mentions of alcohol, it ain’t spicy but surely it’s nsfw.
WC: 2.3k
A/N: so i’ve never even thought of writing poly!skz relationships until now, but i think it came out nicely! (and if you kinda recognize the title— i just spend an unhealthy amount of time watching skz edits on instagram lololol)
[🔹☆💠☆🔹]
The sign of the club glowed with bluish neon lights at the entrance. There was also a man, notebook in hand, receiving IDs prior to welcoming the long queue of people. Although it was not the most expensive nightclub in the city, you could see the difference between it and the rest of the clubs in town, in the sense that the establishment was very tidy and clean, with security personnel scattered around the corners, watching that everything was going out smoothly.
It was unusual for you to want to go out clubbing, but considering the boys’ schedule, any chance to make plans together was welcomed with open arms.
Especially by Minho and Chan, who would never force you to go out, but their lingering stares and their arms that would sneakily clung to your waist or your shoulders —and in some cases, to lovingly slap your ass or thighs—, were meant as a way of encouragement when you dressed up and went for it.
And a way to say that, as always, you looked fine as hell.
You had chosen a short silver-coloured dress that reached your mid-thighs, accompanied by a pair of matching mesh thigh-highs with cute little clips that allowed them to stay in place, only because you knew how to entertain your public, and loved every single second their eyes stayed glued to you as you danced your heart out.
The music pounded against the walls and reverberated through the floor, but not as much as how the booze traveled through your veins, only giddy enough to celebrate how well their last tour had gone, and merely to have some well-deserved fun.
Minho’s hands grasped you by your waist, pulling you off Chan’s arms and smirking as he pushed your back flush against his body.
One of his hands remained in place, but the other one moved slowly, tempting fingers heading down to your thighs, as if walking, the motion almost ticklish. You could feel his cat-like grin from behind you as you looked at Chan, who wasn’t mad at all, rather cheekily enjoying the other man’s antics as you kept dancing against him, following the rhythm of the music.
Chris got closer to the both of you, taking your arms and settling them on his shoulders as he approached even further, now the two gentlemen dressed in fine clothes towering over you.
“Our princess is feeling good today, huh?” His hand cradled your face, holding your chin in a tender grasp, unlike Minho, who started to play with one of the clips on your high mesh stockings.
You were about to say something, but Minho tugged at one of the straps and chuckled next to your ear, slapping it back. Your breath hitched, and you bit your lip, feeling the blush rising to your cheeks, the light foundation you had applied not being able to cover it.
Chris snickered, and Minho lightly bit the shell of your ear, and they both laughed as you squirmed in between their arms.
“Ok, ok—!” You giggled, out of breath due to the tickling and else. You didn’t want to leave just yet, but didn’t want to stop teasing your boys either.
Tugging on Chan’s collar, you propelled him forward, his hands ending on Minho’s shoulders by reflex. You moved your body in between both of them, swaying your hips, playing with Chris’ hair as you turned your head to face the man behind you, and chuckled, biting his lip.
They both felt a rush of blood heading to their face—and downwards—, but you stopped Chan for pushing you against Minho even more, one of your soft hands nonchalantly moving from the back of his neck to his chest, cheekily stroking his toned upper body.
“I think we can use some more drinks, gentlemen.” Your tone was filled with an enticing mockery only powered by their presence, and you licked your lips, feeling Minho’s slender fingers playing with the rim of your dress, tapping your thigh gently.
“I think we should head to the VIP lounge.” He grunted against your ear, his breath tickling your there, but the gentle yet lust-filled kisses he left right below started driving you a bit crazy. “Whaddya think, Chan?” Minho smirked, swiftly lifting his head from your neck to stare at the older man.
With all the mix of bright coloured lights, you could notice slightly how Chris’ eyes grew darker. Almost so dark that they could fuck you themselves, and you squeezed your thighs at the thought.
“I think our little brat needs to learn that teasing won’t get her anywhere, hyung.” Minho’s slender fingers playfully traced mindless shapes on your thigh.
The older man swallowed hard, his breath deepening.
“Guess you’re on thin ice, princess.” He leaned in, and pecked Minho’s lips from above your shoulder. He then turned slightly, and spoke in your ear. “You have ten minutes to go get those drinks. Go up the VIP platform right after, like the good girl you are, mmh?”
His hum almost echoed through your body, falling into an endless pit of arousal that those two gorgeous men had created, now able to make you feel hot and bothered in just a cheeky wink or a deep look.
Making you oh so weak for them. Only them.
“Heard that, kitten?” Minho smirked, lovingly kissing your cheek, as close as he could to the corner of your lips. “Ten minutes. Tick-tock.”
You tried heading towards the bar without your knees giving out as they both moved away, and instantly missed their warmth and strong hold on your body. But before you could even try, Chris tsked, pulling you back to him and almost fiercely planting a deep kiss that lit fire on your body, and almost made you whine when he pulled away, biting your lip.
“Fuck.” He gasped, feeling breathless. “Make that five minutes for daddy, yeah?”
And with a tap on your hips and a teasing wink, he left, following where Minho had gone.
You were unable to wipe the giddy smile off your face, feeling your cheeks get hot, and you patted them, hoping that your slightly cooler hands would do something to low it down.
Shaking your head lightly, you waved at the bartender, a tall, blond and handsome young man, and he gave you a kind smile. You sat on the stool closest, and he approached you, leaning on the counter.
“Nice seeing you here for a change.” He said with a snicker.
“Wish I could say the same, Hyunjin.” You wiggled your eyebrows almost dramatically, making him laugh.
“Your three usuals, beautiful?” He asked with a grin, and you nodded. “Comin’ right up.”
You watched as he gracefully started to show off his abilities, passing drinks and metal cups and bottles in flashes and zooms, controlling every move so swiftly.
But then, you felt a hand on your waist.
“Sorry, scooching up real quick…” said a low voice from behind you.
His hands brushed your back, making you shiver. But it was a bad shiver. One that swiped away the giddiness your boys had left, but not as quickly as your smile took off.
The bold man dizzily sat on a stool that could’ve easily been a foot or two away, and your body relaxed easily at the new-formed distance.
You stared at him in a mix of slight disgust and raw astonishment. Used to your boys and the rest of the group, or people like Hyunjin, one could easily forget that people weren’t always respectful, nice and kind.
He noticed your blank stare, and misinterpreted it as interest. With a wide smile, he bent down, grabbing one of the legs of the stool you were sitting on, and smoothly moved it closer to his.
Another shiver ran through your back, goosebumps showing on your skin.
He smiled, and you held back a frown.
“Besides looking that sexy, what else do you do for a living?”
yikes.
That line didn’t only give you the ick, but you also noticed Hyunjin physically flinched, which made you snort, quickly covering your mouth.
The man was so drunk. You could smell it on his breath, and the guy looked rather pathetic. You didn’t feel too sorry for him, but wanted him as far as possible, and you moved to the edge of your stool.
The man looked proud of your giggles, but grew restless when you didn’t reply, so he took a sip from the glass of whiskey in front of him, kind of as if he hadn’t had anything to drink in a while.
You sat up straight, glaring at Hyunjin so he’d call security if things turned complicated, and he winked at you as a form of reassurance.
“Do you, eh, come here often?” He blurbed out.
You looked at your hands, staring at your nails, and waited for a second before giving him a side-eye from above your shoulder, slender eyes looking uninterested.
Quickly going back to your nails, you shrugged. “Enough to know that you don’t.” You brushed off coldly.
If you did, you’d know that I’m happily taken.
He stammered, his breath hitched, and you could almost feel him start getting even more nervous, as well as slightly angry.
“Huh? Why’s that?” He scoffed, eyebrows raised at you, who again, didn’t bother to look at him, a bit wary of his moody attitude.
Hyunjin smiled at you, coldly glaring at the clueless man next to you as he swiftly left the three drinks in place, pressing the red button underneath the counter to call for help.
The man smirked, going back to a confidence you didn’t want to know where he had gotten.
Placing his arm sneakily on your waist.
Huh?
“All those for you?”
Before you could react and slap him for his unrequested bold actions, you heard a grunt behind you.
“You gotta be fucking kidding me.”
At that moment, Chan wasn’t so sure if he was the pacific one in your relationship.
He trusted you and your ability to set your own boundaries, by any means necessary, even if it meant slapping someone across the face.
And he knew them by heart. He had watched how you grimaced, trying to take this drunkard’s hands away from you.
So he helped you by slapping them off your body.
As ‘gently’ as he could.
“Move aside.” He said in a low growl, failing to relax until you moved your hand and took his, squeezing it as a way of thanking him.
Instead of getting the hint, the man frowned.
“Hey, if you can’t tell, I was trying to—”
Minho scoffed, appearing behind the man.
“Keep babbling around our girl and I’ll give you a story to tell.” He said in a dark, low tone of voice, eyes and tongue so sharp that they could almost pierce right through the man. “Now shoo.”
Security came by a minute after and apologized for not taking care of him before, then fined him, following the nightclub’s rules and finally kicked the man out.
One of the security guys approached the three of you, and bowed swiftly, apologizing.
“I’m really sorry. This guy has already annoyed some other customers before. I’ll speak to the owner of the place and see if there is something we can do regarding his situation. As for you, miss…” He gave you his card, and you smiled at him, bowing your head gently.
“My name is Seo Changbin. If you ever need anything…” he sighed, a hand to his nape, the buff man slightly flustered. “Don’t hesitate to call me. I can’t think of another way to compensate you…”
Chan smiled, and shook hands with the security guard.
“No need to worry, mate. It’s fine now.” He stated calmly, his other hand still engulfing yours.
Minho bowed at him, his arm around your waist, as if trying to erase any marks or traces of the drunkard’s touch.
“Home, love?” He said in a gentle whisper, kissing your temple after you nodded. “S’okay.”
Minho opened the door to the car for you, and Chan’s hand never left your thigh the whole way back home.
As soon as you got back, you let out a tired sigh.
Chris hugged you from behind, and you melted under his touch. With a soft grin, Minho ushered Chan’s arms away from you, and swiftly took you in his arms.
“Sleepy?” The older one asked, but you shook your head. You didn’t want the night to end on this note. “Then I’ll go get something. You guys get going.” He smiled at you, eyes soft as he lovingly stroke your cheek, your face resting on Minho’s shoulder.
With a slight smirk, he patted Minho’s butt, and headed to his studio.
“Bang Chan!” He whisper-yelled, ears red, and you chuckled lowly.
“Cheeky little baby.” Minho cooed at you, heading to your shared room, and you giggled softly, hiding your head on the crook of his neck. “Let us take care of you, yeah?”
You moved your head from his neck and pecked his lips. Minho took you to bed, and tenderly took your heels off.
“Shower?” He asked softly, but you shook your head no, so he nodded, taking off your dress. With a cat-like grin, his fingers went back to your thighs.
“You have to wear these more often, you little tease.” He snickered, and you smiled, blushing softly. “You look so good in everything.” He said, stroking your cheek.
Chan quickly came back, fluffy blankets and laptop with him.
“Movie night!” He smiled, almost childishly, and both your and Minho’s heart tugged on your chests.
They took their fancy clothes off and put on sleeveless shirts and the matching pyjama pants you had gifted them for Christmas, who were at first meant as a joke, but remained being used just because how comfy they were.
There, snuggled between Chan and Minho, you smiled, taking both of their hands.
“I’m hungry.” You said, pouting unconciously.
“We can make popcorn if you want.” Christ suggested, pausing the movie.
You sat in your knees, looking at them with a smirk.
Minho smirked back, starting to guess where this was headed.
“What do you want to eat, kitten?”
You snickered.
“I want to have ramen.”
~kats, who hopes everyone understood that kdrama reference just now ;););););)
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