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scholastic-dragon · 1 year

Note

I saw "a soft and unsure kiss" and immediately thought of Bayverse Leonardo. Maybe the kiss gets a little more sure/desperate as it develops? (If yanno what I mean *wink-wonk*)

Ooooooooh I'm picking up what you're putting down anon 😏

Bay!Leo x Fem!reader

Breaking Point

Warnings: leo and reader are over 18. Don't be weird. Tension, kissing in the dojo 🫢, spelling mistakes, pinning the other down, smootching, I went a bit ham, sorry I just love kissing leo,

Leo never thought getting a new sparing partner would be a bad thing.

After years of fighting his brothers, his father had no some reason, allowed you to join the training sessions.

You, a long-time friend of the turtles, had sat in on many, many sparing sessions. Always sitting on the sidelines, bouncing with energy of wanting to try.

But the boys never let you. It was too dangerous, given you didn't have the training like they did.

So you took matters into your own hands. You and April became gym buddies, going a few times a week, learning and building up muscles to prove your testosterone driven friends wrong.

Then you enlisted Raphs help with some exercises, and before long, you went to Splinter and asked the all-important quiestion.

Which was now three weeks ago, and it was the worst best weeks of his life.

When he first met you, Leo was drawn to you. You were smart, brave, and so determined. You cared so much about him and his family, and he fell head over heels for you.

So now he was screwed. Very screwed.

His brothers never really cared for sparing, choosing to go do their own things after training ended and Splinter went off to meditate.

Which meant another hour....alone in the dojo....with you.

The hot, sweaty, cramped dojo where Leo was certain your cropped top kept getting smaller and smaller.

It was a simple white V-neck shirt, but whenever you lifted your arms above your head, he saw the underside of your sports bra peeking out. And sweat that dribbled from your temple went down your neck. And he could see its whole trail as it disappeared down your chest.

Get yourself together, Leo!

He shook his head, turning away from you to continue stretching.

"So, how was it?" Your shadow casted over his shoulder. He tensed, looking up at you, illuminated by the ceiling light.

"How was what?" God, his mouth was so dry.

"The training!" You bounced on your feet, playfully punching his shoulder. "Raph said I'm really getting better, and I'm not as worn out as I normally am! That means I'm getting better...." as he continued to stare blankly up at you from the floor, your confidence wavered. "....I am getting better, right?"

His heart fluttered. You were looking to him for reassurance.

He shot up, towering over you, trying not to stare at the blush on your neck and chest. "Yes! Yeah, you're doing awesome."

You smiled in return.

"It's nice actually having a sparing partner who wants to be here, the others are kinda just over it," Leo kept talking, rubbing his sweaty palms on his sweatpants.

"Yeah, it's fun!" You always had a lot of energy. It's one of the reasons you got along so well with Mikey. It was also why the rule existed that you and Mikey will not be left alone unsupervised.

Leo then realized that it had been the extra hour, and you would return to the surface. And today, he felt a strange feeling come over him.

"Wanna go again?" He panted. You looked up, thought about it, then smiled.

"Sure, why not?" You shrugged. "I have no other plans today."

It started off with simple moves and blocks, Leo couldn't really spar with you out of fear of hurting you, but he could push you around.

You, on the other hand, had to use almost all your strength just to...to well do anything to him.

But the others had let you in on a few secrets about their brothers sparring patterns.

Leo turned slightly away from you. You moved your leg, hooking it around his ankle and pulling your leg back.

He yelled, losing his balance, arms flailing. You grabbed his wrists, using your knee, pressed into his side, and you pushed him to the floor. Your hands pressing his wrists beside his head, you practically sitting on his chest.

Breathing heavy, you looked at each other. Faces inches apart, chests heaving. Suddenly, the red flush on your skin wasn't from excersion.

Realizing what exactly was happening, you lessened your grip on his wrists.

"Sorry...I-" you cut yourself off, unsure of what to do. You know you should move, but did you want to?

He licked his lips, eyes wide, and craned his neck up. Leaning down, your lips met.

Unlike the....steamy....dreams you'd had about the brave leader in blue, your first kiss wasn't hard and firm.

But soft, like a summer breeze or a feather. He was so tense under you, clearly waiting for you to pull away and smack him.

Bless him, he was so nervous.

Pulling away, you smile down at him. "If that was supposed to convince me to throw this round, it didn't work,"

"You drive me insane," He growled, biting at your bottom lip before taking your lips in a firmer, more confident kiss.

"Is that such a bad thing?" You mumbled against his lips. Your hands let go of his wrists, cupping his face and deepening the kiss.

His hands grabbed your wrists, thumb rubbing your pulse point.

"It wouldn't have to be." Leo panted, pulling away and giving you the most honest and sincere face you'd ever seen from him. "If you were mine,"

"Good, thing I already am," You kissed him hard, biting his lip, making him groan as you slipped your tongue into his mouth.

In a calculated move, you were rolled over onto your back, Leo hovering over you. Spreading your legs, he nestled himself between them, laying on his forearms, pulling you as close as humanly possible.

You ran your hands up and down his sides, making him shiver.

His tongue led the dance, moving and pushing against your own, making you moan softly against him.

The room felt even hotter and cramped now, with him using just enough of his weight to keep you pressed to the floor.

He pulled away, sucking down air, then peppered your jaw and neck with kisses.

And even though it was fantastic, you could still feel Leo holding back. You kissed his neck, going up his jaw. Speaking softly, you felt his body shiver.

"Can't believe Mr. Honor Boy himself would defile the dojo in such a way,"

He pulled away, one hand grabbing your hair and pulling your head back to expose your neck.

He bit in the flesh, leaving little marks. "If you think this is bad, waiting till I have you in my room,"

tags: @thelaundrybitch @turtle-babe83 @eveandtheturtles @sketch-and-write-lover @mysticboombox @happymoonangel @dilucsflame33 @m1dnyt3-w0lf @tmnt-tychou @leosgirl82

#me: oh im going to write a cute first kiss story for leo #me: *almost writes smut*#me: oh my #idk what happens man #its all nice and then leos tongue is there #hes got a mind of his own #tmnt #tmnt bayverse #tmnt leo #tmnt leonardo #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt leonardo x reader #it is my works #thanks for the ask!

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running-with-kn1ves · 3 months

Text

PUNISHMENT: A Reward

A/N: Decided to name our ‘PUNISHMENT’ fic boy Malachi, lemme know if this is a win or a fat L my scrumptious pogchamps. ALSO happy valentines day! (Posting this early let me be)

CW: Toxic relationship, possessive/obsessive behavior, suggestive themes, mentioning future seggsual acts/fantasies

Synopsis: Out on a group date for Valentine's Day with your possessive, jealousy-ridden boyfriend is never a good idea, especially when he finds the special surprise you’re wearing for him.

“Hrmm… seems like they have a lot of Valentine's themed stuff on the menu.”

“Well it IS the season! No other reason for it being so packed in here...” One of your friends across the table perked up, slightly annoyed at the stuffy atmosphere.

She was right, every table was filled, every booth full of chattering couples or first blind dates, even double or thruple dates just like the one you were on.

You were lucky your friend's boyfriend had managed to snag this place a week in advance, else you might be thigh to thigh with everyone else in a tinier booth. Ha, as if YOUR boyfriend would allow that; you'd probably be on the edge of the shared booth seat, nearly falling off just to save you from being ‘too close’ to anyone else, even your own friends.

“Annoying… I don't get why going out on Valentine's Day is so important, what happened to dates in the privacy of your own home.” Said the devil you were thinking of, that comment nudging to how he was far more in favor of spending a “romantic” evening home alone with you instead of being here with your two friends and their spouses.

“Awe, is puppy dog Malachi upset he has to share? We planned this weeks in advance, so suck it up, we have a right to see OUR friend tonight.” That same friend hissed.

Your other friend nodded. He would’ve added on, if it weren’t for the death stare your boyfriend was currently drilling into everyone else across the table. You hadn’t been out in a group setting like this in… who knows how long.

“Oh, really? Don’t fucking--”

“C’mon you guys,” You grabbed onto Malachi’s thigh, a tight squeeze making him stop in his angry tracks to look down.”I’m here right now, shouldn’t we be catching up, not fighting? I missed you, missed this.”

Your sincerity seemed to ease them up, a flash of contrition on your female friend’s face. She hated your boyfriend, clearly, wearing a scowl when she turned back to Mr. moody himself. He rested his face on his palm, looking at the other couples every now and again, always keeping a short glance at you out of the corner of his eye to make sure you weren’t having too much fun.

One of the spouses --you had forgotten the name of by now after the evening’s short introductions-- had begun talking, complaining about coworkers or customers, one or the other.

Wow, has it been so long that your friends have completely different lives now, new people that they spend their time with that you weren’t even told about? Well, its not like you’ve exactly been open to receiving that kind of news, or able to be, with so little time to make phonecalls lately, your phone always seeming to disappear, phone numbers no longer existing in your contacts… it was truly a miracle you managed to have this outing, and Malachi thought so too.

“I swear if she prods at me again,” Your jealous guard dog of a boyfriend started, hand clenching the red, heart-embroidered table cloth.

“Take it easy, okay? I know you don’t want to be here but-- just do it a little longer, for me. Thats what we agreed, right?”

You took his hand in yours, bringing up his clenched fist to your lips. You thanked the skies that physical affection always seemed to drown out his fiery temper. You wondered how much longer that’d last.

“Fine. But I can’t stand looking at them anymore, come ‘ere.” Malachi patted his thigh, hands moving to your hips to help bring you to your new seat.

“Seriously? We’re in a.. A nice restaurant, with my friends--”

He gave you a knowing look, one that said ‘if you don’t listen, i’ll drag your ass back to the car without the pleasure of friendly goodbyes.’

You didn’t know if you could handle the embarrassing shit he put you through anymore. It tested the strength of your will and the integrity of your soul at this point.

You did as he demanded, slowly making your way to sit on the edge of his lap. Most of those around you didn’t seem to notice, an occasional glance looking to see what you were doing, but ultimately going back to the lively story of one of the nameless significant others. You tried to hover above him, afraid to fully commit to sitting down on top of him, but a small ‘what are you doing’ and forced downward push of your hips made your butt make soft contact with his lap.

“That’s right… that’s better.” He cleared his throat, putting one arm around your waist and the other on your knee. You directly blocked his view, your boyfriend not moving to see the rest of the group, instead leaning against you like a perfectly shaped body pillow.

“Can’t you atleast act normal? Don’t you have any shame around other people,” You whispered, knowing that one of your friends was reading the uncomfortable expression on your face and was in turn, giving a similar expression of discomfort.

“Hey, you know how bad I can be, this isn’t even the worst of it. You want me to really embarrass you?”

A waiter broke the quiet spat you were having with him, asking if you’d like another drink. He didn’t acknowledge the man behind you, either out of not seeing him or to purposefully avoid the dark eyes digging into his soul behind your shoulder.

You croaked out a polite “yes please,” looking for your friend’s fellow responses. They all answered in kind, the waiter scurrying away to another busy set of tables.

Malachi scoffed, coiling around you tighter.

“D’you see that? I knew we shouldn’t have come out here, in front of prying eyes… bet he’s hit on every other pretty thing he’s seen walk in here, so don’t get any ideas.”

You almost turned around to gawk at your boyfriend, such an insensitive and insecure string of words wounding you.

“I would never..”

You almost let him ruin the rest of your evening, the dreadful pit of wanting to go home entering your tired mind. But you promised yourself you’d try to make an effort in repairing your friendships, attempting to memorialize your friend’s smiles and laughs, trying to come up with the names of their spouses you had just heard a half hour ago. If you wouldn’t see them again for a while, atleast you could have this.

And with the two-second memory your boyfriend often displayed,(except for when it came to your “betrayals”) he was enamored with something new.

“Oh, what do we have here…” Malachi tip-toed down the elastic waistband of your pants, looking at the lacey red lingerie underneath. It wasn’t hard to spot, not when it was a drastic change from your usual tame undergarments. Well, tame for him, he had seen them all at this point.

You wouldn’t have noticed his prodding peculiarity if it weren’t for that worrying heightened pitch in his voice, one that always started trouble. Fingers nipping your tummy and around your wrist weren’t unusual, you had become accustomed to it from how he pawed at you at home, never seeming satisfied, but this, wasn’t the usual lack of personal space.

“Hey! You weren’t supposed to see that.” You slapped his hand away, having which already gotten a full touch of the goods you were hiding.

“What is that supposed to mean--” Malachi started, and you knew he was about to expect the worst. You shut him up as fast as you could.

“It’s supposed to be for tonight, idiot!” You whispered with a harsh tone, starting to get fed up with his childish reactions, which always seemed to jump to conclusions. “...Did you forget that it’s Valentine’s day or what?”

You barely let the words escape from between your teeth, not wanting to admit the silent internet escapade you went on to find something that wouldn’t tear your ass in half or be so tight you’d be left with more marks from it than him. But even so, after the sneaking around in trying to catch the package before he could and clearing out your emails as soon as possible, he still managed to see it before you had planned.

Now, you wondered if it was worth it, with the lace itching your chest and the other giving you a wedgie.

“awe.. no way, for me? All for me?” Malachi was promptly sweet on you, much different than the heel-biting mood he was in a short few minutes ago.

You leaned back to get close to his ear, shifting your eyes anxiously. You really didn’t want your friends to know about the violently ravenous side of your boyfriend that wouldn’t stop him from making a scene about it here and now, which you anxiously tried to prepare for in case of the worst. “It’s for when we get back home…so lets just enjoy our time here, just sit still with me for a little longer.” You tried your usual ‘gentle parenting’ method, holding the heavy knuckles around your waist, to soothe him into letting you spend just a little bit longer with your friends.

Malachi kicked his feet, exasperating at this newfound interest and the ways he could torture you with it, could make you beg him for its secrecy. Oh how he could envision having you at his mercy, so cute and sexy but ultimately deserving punishment for going behind his back about something so temptatious, something another man could see and take if he weren’t there.

“But now, baby I don’t know if I can wait.” He grinned, raking his teeth over his bottom lip so much it looked like it hurt. You felt him shift underneath you, leaning up to grind against your backside. “Man, you really should’ve hid it better, ‘cause now its all I can think about..”

You rolled your eyes, feeling his heavy exhale against your cheek. Your friends were too immersed in their own conversations with their loved ones to notice anything else, legs strewn over one another and fingers interlocked as they felt the cheap haze of their Sweetheart Cocktail’s and Rosé’s of Love. You would’ve much preferred to be tipsy along with them by now, but the truth is you were too nervous with the possessive man beside you to truly let loose anywhere other than alone. On top of that, the scolding you’d get from him for being so relaxed was not worth the extra headache.

And yet, the wanton expression he held for you, the hands that fiddled to get deep and play with his surprise, made you feel so wanted. More wanted than your friends had made you feel this evening. They just looked at you with concerned frowns and confused cocks of their heads as they questioned to why you were still with this crazed maniac.

“What I would do to bend you over in front of these idiots, make you do more than say my name while wearing these adorable lacey little--”

“Don’t tell me you’re already thinking of heading out.” Your female friend piped up, looking at the credit card Malachi put on top of the split receipt that has been sitting lonesome for a good while.

He almost broke, annoyed at the sudden interruption.

“Afraid so,” Your anticipating boyfriend gleamed, not even her sour attitude dampening the rising excitement in his perverted mind and tightening pants. “We have some other plans to attend to.”

“What could be more important than friends?” She asked, looking at you to advocate against your controlling spouse.

You felt a greedy palm reach up your shirt, falling back down to paw for the thin garment below your waistline.

“If we don’t go now.. I don’t know how much longer I can wait. Can’t promise that I won’t rip these fucking shorts off you here to see what all is underneath.” He whispered against you through gritted teeth, barely able to stop from kissing you raw.

“We’ll stay… just until the waiter comes back for his tip.” You choked out, not letting on about the roll of Malachi’s hips that pressed you up against the table.

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l3viat8an · 10 months

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my feed has just been reminding thoroughly about levi having two dicks and just. dp anyone? asdfghjkl i like vividly imagined it earlier

- 🍵💕

Nsfw content MDNI

Ehehhehehe using this as an excuse to post my brainrot cuz I’ve been thinking about this so hard 😩 ‘n to hopefully make this make a little bit more sense- Levi has two cocks one on top of the other ;)

Cockwarming Levi while he games, but!!! It’s the first time you’ve done it with both of his cocks inside you.

Usually you’d sit with the top inside you and jerk his bottom cock off, it was fun and Levi knew the rules. If he could win his game with you on his lap, doing whatever you wanted…after he could do whatever he wanted to you~ if he lost the game?…well he didn’t get to cum. Simple enough.

But this time is different, you’ve got both of his cocks inside you and you just can’t hold still, you feel so full and keep shifting your hips / grinding into his cocks for some kind of relief and it was not so slowly driving Levi crazy.

“MC….you- you have to hold still….I can’t f-focus….” Levi whines through his teeth after he mutes his mic. And really you were trying your best! It’s just so hard to do when your brain is slowly turning to mush from this sheer amount of cock(s) inside of you.

Whining right back “I am holding still….I just can’t help it….”

“Shit…” Levi says before turning his mic back on and saying “I’ll be right back guys.” moving even faster to mute his mic again and toss his headset to the side, Levi’s hands gripping your hips so tightly you’ll definitely have little bruises tomorrow-

Your head tipped back onto Levi’s shoulder as he slowly starts to rut himself into you, shallow thrusts allowing the tips of his cocks to nudge against you just right.

“o-oh f-fuck-so tight.” Levi moans right by your ear adjusting his grip on your hips, sliding you up, almost all the way off of his cocks and practically slamming you back down.

You let out a soft sob and Levi repeats the movement a few times before he’s moaning your name mixed with little gasps of “C-close- s-shit…” your little gasp of “me too…please don’t stop Lev…” I mean really how could you not be close with two monster dicks pounding into you?-

Your moans seemed to be all Levi needed to hear as he bucks his hips harder into yours, moaning your name louder as you feel ropes of warm cum filling you up and pushing you straight into your own orgasm.

Your hips rolling back against Levi’s as he whines at the sight overstimulation of you riding out your orgasm.

Your chests heaved in sync as you caught your breaths from your quick fuck.

Levi presses a few soft kisses to your cheeks and nose right before mumbling something about cleaning up quick, reaching for the box of tissues he keeps in one of the drawers on his desk and how he has to get back to his game….oh right, you almost forgot he was in the middle of game, but thank goodness his mic was off- Right?-

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gagmebucky · 2 years

Text

you know the drill.. unedited and all that

“Oh, you look like an angel but you aren’t acting like one,” he says with a laugh and a growl. “You left me on my birthday to lock yourself in my bathroom and fuck your fingers so I don’t want to hear anything except those sexy moans and your wet cunt doing just that. You get me?”

in which your best friend walks in on you masturbating and decides to lend a hand. (includes best friends to lovers, dirty talk, masturbation, voyeurism and exhibitionism, reader receiving oral, mild overstimulation.)

—

Sometimes it just gets to be too much.

The purr of your name, his filthy drawl of each letter—his big hands casually squeezing your hips, pulling you to and fro—when he presses into your back and coils around you like a lion laying claim—dark blue depths always pinning your visage in perverse approval—sinful lips twisting on the cue of his silver tongue, at the expense of your poor libido, on the intention of terrorizing your sensitivity.

That man, your best fucking friend, is the devil behind thick dark waves of hair, a sharp jawline and broad physique; facial features a masculine cut like a juxtaposed angel. He’s always in your ear, whispering something caustic and obscene; shrugging it off like innocence with a pretty smile. But you feel it, spiking your temperature degree by degree.

Today being his birthday, you’d think—you did think—he’d be caught up in the celebration. His apartment is a lavish slosh of liquor and music, friends and tag-alongs snagging his attention left and right. You expected as much, braced yourself to remain in the background.

Which is difficult already, because you’re, well, a glutton and developed this voracious need to soak up all of his attention. And you’re reining that in, but he’s intent on driving you insane.

Every time you’re on the cusp of cooling down from his previous encounter, he’s popping up to further ruin your panties and leave you aching in his wake. It’s impressive, really: his timing and effectiveness, the way it’s almost effortless.

The worst part about it? You like it.

The lovesick, masochistic side of you thrives on the sticky cling of your gusset, and the need that thrums between your legs. But you haven’t masturbated recently, and this attack (as it can only be categorized as such) on your overly responsive sex drive is really getting to you.

You can’t stop squirming, subtly rubbing your thighs together like it’ll help, but it’s only making it worse. The ache just thrums and thrums, and no matter how many times you berate yourself, it won’t bat down. You feel like a teenager unable to control their hormones.

It’s going to become unbearable. That’s a guarantee where he’s concerned. You’re slowly succumbing to the fate that if you don’t receive some sort of relief, you’ll have a full-on meltdown. Dramatic, yes, but God, you need an orgasm.

It wouldn’t take long, either. No one would notice, you bet, if you slipped out. Your sensitivity has reached a hair-trigger, and given a minute or so alone, the blaze of your inner heath would be quelled.

Taking a sly survey of your surroundings, all of your friends and others are preoccupied. You managed to slip out of a conversation on an excuse to get a drink. Your hand is enclosed around a beer bottle, but the cold condensation does not help with your fever like you hoped.

You don’t bother drinking and set it down, knowing alcohol will worsen your problem, loosen your inhibitions and take you to a whole other wanton level. Fine! You’ve gotta do this. After a committed gander, you whirl around and march toward the privacy of the bathroom.

Or you intend to since your body immediately collides with a wall instead. And, by wall, you mean the hard panels of your best friend’s chest, warmth radiating through a black t-shirt, spring fresh soap and his cologne swarming your senses. Contact alone sends a jolt through your nerves.

You instinctively jerk, and his arms snaking around your waist yank you right back. A breath catches in your throat as your front molds to his, and he swiftly swings you into an one-eighty. Your hands splay against his pectorals, and you blink up at him, unnecessarily winded and unfocused, trying your earnest not to writhe into his embrace.

“Now where do you think you’re goin’?” He cocks a brow. “You disappeared and have been over here by your lonesome, lookin’ all suspicious. Cute as always, but suspicious.” His head tilts and runs his gaze over you carefully. “What are you up to, gorgeous, and why haven’t you included me?”

His sensory awareness is inhuman. It’s unfair, and you want to gawk at the uncanniness but you should be used to it by now.

“I—uhm…” You can’t exactly tell him you’re sneaking off to masturbate, and you wrack your brain for an alternative explanation. “I’m just gonna… gonna check on my makeup! It’s been awhile since my last touch up, so I figure it’s about time. I know I look like a mess right now.”

He laughs. “Oh, let me save you the trip. You’re still lookin’ every bit of a sexy angel. No touch up necessary.” His hands slide down and squeeze your ass with one, and slaps it with the other, making you yelp and him grin. “Got the ass of one, too.”

“Ow!” You have an excuse to extract yourself from his embrace, and thank God because the sting goes straight to your clit. You shoot him a glare and rub the offended area, ignoring an urge to ask him to do it again, bastardizing the knowledge that he would be more than happy to. “That hurt!”

He rolls his eyes. “It did not, you crybaby.” One arm loops around your waist, scooping you flush once again, and he’s edging toward your behind. “You better get used to it. I still have a lotta birthday licks left.”

Your jaw drops. “It’s your birthday! You’re the one who’s supposed to get birthday licks.”

“So you wanna lick me?” His sly smile does flip flops in your belly. He drops his head, and his voice is a purr in your ear: “What a coincidence. I wanna lick you, too.”

You shiver, teeth puncturing your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. The metallic taste of crimson is worth preventing a moan from spilling out. Okay, this is fucking torture. You subconsciously lean into him before snapping back to reality and just about jump out of your skin.

“A - and wash my hands!” you hastily add onto your earlier answer. “I - I was gonna touch up my makeup and wash my hands.”

The suddenness surprises him. His baby blues blink at you, then there goes that inquisitive furrow of his brow. “Didn’t you already?”

Yes, you did. In fact, the scented lotion you used afterwards is still fresh on your skin.

“Um, yeah. But they’re bringing your cake out soon,” you say, slowly circling around inch-by-inch and backpedaling away, trying to look as relaxed as you don’t feel. “And thought I might as well before they do.”

“Huh.” He looks like he has to consider your words but can’t find anything odd. It makes sense, even in your awkward delivery, and maybe you can relax. “But you do know the kitchen’s back there.” He nods the entryway you passed.

“Oh, right,” you say quite intelligently, following his line of sight. “Well, they’re preparing the cake, and I - I didn't want to get in the way.” It rolls off your tongue casually—believably. “So I figured I’d just use the sink in the bathroom.”

“Oh, okay.” The answer satisfies his third-degree, and you suppress a sigh of relief. “Why don’t you use the one in my bedroom? I think someone’s in the one in the other.”

“Perfect! Thanks.” You flash a smile, and he seems to let you escape. Then the faintest glint of suspicion suddenly flits across his face as he observes your winded breaths and the way you stumble off. Best not to give him another chance to interrogate you further. “I’ll be right back!”

Then you turn, righting your movements in the process, and head for the hallway. It’s a straight shot past the guest bathroom and a turn of a corner to his bedroom. Luckily, in the packed space of his spacious apartment, that area is sectioned off.

With excuse me’s and halfhearted hey’s, you wade through the herd and cross wood floors with quickened strides. You nearly trip on your heels, four-inch high mimic of gladiator sandals, laced up your calves, but you think you play it off well. Okay, probably not, but you make it out of sight seeming normal enough.

His bedroom is substantially quieter and cooler. That breeze does help with your heated skin, but the environment is inherently him so it cancels each other out. Closing that door, you’re already unzipping the cinch of your skirt and clamoring to the luxurious partition of his bathroom.

It’s gorgeous inside. You’ve told him that a million times, and you’ve been here a million times but seriously—a wide granite countertop and waterfall faucet, walk-in shower and claw foot tub, you can’t get over it. He keeps it immaculate so you have no issue with letting your skirt halo to the gleaming tile ground.

Unsurprisingly, your panties are ruined. The material clings like a second skin, sodden through and smeared on your inner thighs. It’s obscene, and you’d demand he pay for your dry cleaning, if he wasn’t already doing the majority of your laundry.

You waste no time wriggling them down your hips, looping around the bend of your knees as you hop onto the counter and spread your legs. There’s an audible moan when your hand delves between your center, slick coating your fingers soft. A full bodied shudder slips down your spine, and your head falls back, jostling the mirror in the process.

Oh, this is fucking good.

You find the angle and seize it in slippery circles. Even with your sloppy movements, everything falls aligned, and you’re seeing stars; not yet imploding but well on its way. The build-up on your own is never this quick. You wish you could experience it under ideal circumstances, draw it out, but a part of you thinks that’s what makes it so good.

You know you shouldn’t be masturbating in your best friend’s bathroom, that it’s wrong, and you can get caught at any minute, but it’s those very illicit factors that run your libido wild, unearthing moans you mean to suppress.

You compensate by shoving your shirt above your tits and biting down on the hemline. It’s one of those bustier camisoles so you didn’t bother with a bra. The air invokes a shiver, and you shiver again when your palm caresses a tit and rolls a hard peak between your fingers.

The orgasm approaches like a roar, knocking in rapid succession, louder and louder than the last. It’s a hum, a vibration inside your head, reaching your ears all husky-like. Being in his bathroom, the lingering scent of his aftershave, and his interactions invoking your overall state, you swear you hear his voice.

“O - oh.” Your moan is a whisper, falling above the wet squelch of your fingers by a decibel, and your toes curl on the precipice of hot-blooded relief. “Fuck, yes—”

Before the train plunges off the track into bliss, you realize that the knocking is not metaphorical and his voice isn’t simply an echo inside your head; but rather knuckles on the door and him repeatedly asking if you were okay on the other side.

“Okay, I’m coming in,” your best friend is saying before you fully process the past minute, aside from what was going to be a mindblowing orgasm. The knob twists (since, you know, you were too busy with your sex to lock it). “You got me worried, and I couldn’t hear what you were…”

The door opens fully, and his eyes widen as your compromised state centers to view. Your brain short circuits at the shock rippling underneath your skin, freezing you in place as if doused in ice water and undercutting the instinct to shutter, which unintentionally awards him a nice eyeful.

You, perched on his sink counter, debauched and exposed, face sheened lightly in doe-eyed desperation. The hem of your white camisole ruffles above your braless tits, palming one of the hardened peaks. Your other hand is wedged between your spread thighs, pressing into your center with your underwear bunched below your knees.

It’s a long moment, it feels like with his gaze running over every detail, before the shock snaps into mortification, and sense kicks in.

The shirt drops from your teeth, and your legs clamp around your wrist in a poor effort to cover yourself. All the blood drains from your face as you try to think of some excuse, some recourse, or anything to make this be anything other than it is.

“I - I can explain—” you start shakily, but the expression on his face shuts you up.

His jaw clenches, and those friendly moonstone orbs narrow into dark slits, looking more severe than you’ve ever seen. He steps in and shuts the door behind him. Unlike you, he makes sure to latch the lock before stalking forward, and like a skittish cat, you watch his every move.

He comes to a still in front of you. His hands grab each thigh and pries them open, to your gasp of surprise. “Keep going.” It’s an order, but he doesn’t give you a moment to obey, or even a second to recover from the shock, before dropping to his knees and pulling yours wider.

Your hands fly to either side of the counter to stabilize yourself, unintentionally but consequently revealing your most intimate part to his equally prying eyes. Naturally, you try to shut your legs, but his hands have wrapped around your calves. The only way to compensate is to shove a shielding palm between your thighs, a hitched sound expelling through your teeth, literally sensitive to the touch.

He shoots you a look but allows the action. His interest falls to your underwear still strained around your knees, and he tugs them down your legs. Your embarrassment burns hot in your cheeks as he examines the wetness heavying the fabric; his thumb drags across the gusset, your essence coating him in an obscene trail of stickiness.

There’s a slick pop, and you whimper when he sucks it clean of your taste. His eyes snap up at the sound, and he makes a dastardly show of doing it again. To further fuck with you, he takes it a step further and licks a slow, broad stripe through the center, a groan rumbling through his chest and lids fluttering shut as if savoring it.

Your muscles twitch with a tremor, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip to retrain another whine; but it doesn’t matter because those dilated pupils pin on you like a glare. “Keep going,” he repeats, gritting it out like he shouldn’t have to, or, like he’s barely keeping himself from doing it himself.

The adrenaline pumping through your veins has you woozy, heart thundering, and though he’s said it twice, you don’t think you heard him correctly. “B - but—”

That gets through your head like a shot of the best liquor you’ve ever tasted. Maybe you should recoil in shock; at the very least, question this shift in your relationship boundaries, but you don’t. All this mania whirling inside you because of him, for him, it doesn’t even occur to you.

Incisors fixing into your bottom lip, you nod, albeit shyly. “Y - yeah,” you breathe, adjusting your weight as best as you can without exciting your libido just yet. “I got you.”

So, with his eyes on you like a hawk, your tentative fingers find your clit. Your heavy lids fall onto him watching you, transfixed by the microexpressions filtering across his face. You wonder if this’ll affect him in a similar way he affected you; God, you hope so.

The first touch is a spark to a flame, a simmering speed kickstarted into high gear. The seamless way you fall into rhythm, jittery as you are, flurry of emotion and sensation, is shameless. You promised yourself a reckoning, and your body is primed for it.

A palm grasps the edge of the counter while you swirl something wild on your slick bundle of nerves. There’s a slight tremor in your arm muscles; call it a symptom of performance anxiety because he’s utterly captivated. You work harder, picking up the pace as you shudder out moans.

His blessing, your need to obey, the sounds bounce free in the echo of his bathroom. Initially low and breathy, bashful to be heard, you’re crescendoing into full, wanton moans now, and he loves it, spurring you on more.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s it,” he whispers, pupils blown wide, dark and dangerous, obsession ping-ponging between your hand and your face. “Look at you. Pretty baby, I knew your pussy would be just as pretty. All fucking soaked, wet to your fucking knees. Keep moving your fingers like that. Does it feel good?”

Your head bobbles, lashes fluttering heavy. “It - it does,” you say with an impending climax on the tips of your fervid fingers, voice an airy quiver with the addendum: “It feels really, really good.”

The grip on your calves tighten, then slide up to your knees. His thumbs stroke circles on the sensitive skin on the inside, mimicking your own movements and somehow falling in sync, becoming increasingly sloppy and frantic.

“Yeah, you’re good at this. You do this a lot, don’t you, angel?” There’s a flushed sheen on his cheeks and knowingness in his blue pools, further confirmed by your hitched breath. “Y’gonna cum then?” he asks, though the answer is clear. “Think you’ve been good enough to?”

The threat of another denial makes you groan, weaning into a whimper. “I need to.”

“Oh, angel, I can tell,” he says with a click of sympathy, mimicking your pout. “But you look so cute when you’re desperate, and you know I love it when you beg. Go on, and give me a little first. Show me how good of a girl you are.”

“P - please,” you moan immediately, “please, James.”

“Fuck, you know I’ll give you anything.” He pushes to his feet as his hand shoots out and covers yours, guiding you fast-paced into the throes of an orgasm. “I’ll give you everything. Now show me how pretty you are when you cum.”

That's all you need. With a sharp moan of his name, the dam breaks, and it feels like you’re floating. Hot-blooded relief ripples through your system and has you quaking. Wave after wave works through you, and every second is well worth the wait.

Your muscles are straining, and you’re panting by the time it subsides. All the while, he’s locked onto you, eating it up, crooning encouragement and praises; ravenous eyes and husky voice, it’s almost enough to set you off a second time.

His other hand catches you by the jaw, a pinched grip keeps your face angled on him while his strokes slow. “Oh, you’re fucking gorgeous. Always have been, always will, but when you’re coming and moaning my name…” he says with a groan, “you’re a real life fucking dream.”

He sucks your arousal off his fingers, and you moan at the sight. It takes a moment to overcome your panting, only able to manage a, “That felt s - so good.” That was your best orgasm to date, and it was his hand in this situation that caused that outcome.

“Just what you needed.” His thumb traces your bottom lip, dark eyes enthralled by your unruly come down, laying in wait. “You satisfied, angel?” he says, a rhetorical fluctuation that fans over your sensitive skin. “Lying to me, leaving—”

“It’s not my fault!” you blurt out before he can finish listing your sins, making him cock an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t have—I would’ve waited—I wanted to wait, but you - you kept saying things and touching me, and… and… I just couldn’t help it. I’m sorry!”

He looks astounded, at a loss for words momentarily. “So you’re blaming me?” is the implication you’re giving, and he’s getting. “I talked to you and barely touched you, but that got you so worked up that you had to lock yourself in my bathroom and masturbate—in the middle of my birthday party?”

That sounds maybe not the best way to put it, but it's also entirely accurate. “Well, um…” You can’t think of a nicer, less accusatory manner of phrasing. “Y - yes?”

There’s a second of silence before both of his hands grasp your face with a groan of, “That’s so fucking cute.”

Then he’s reeling you into a heady kiss. Tongue deep but slow, and you melt into him like butter on a skillet. It’s better than you imagined—and, boy, you have imagined it; like him, controlled but not overbearing, gentle with a pulsing, singing heat.

Parting is reluctant, and he nuzzles his lips over yours before starting a trail down your neck. His hands fall to your thighs when you tilt your head to the side for easier access, sliding upward with his thumbs kneading circles into your muscles.

You gasp, then moan at the influx of stimulation, not a direct barrage on your center but resonates there, anyway. Your knees instinctively lock around his waist as he finds his way to your chest, dipping below the ruffle of your shirt and taking a hard peek into his mouth.

“F - fuck.” You shudder against him, into him, the current of electricity sparking in your bones, burying your hands in his hair.

“My sexy little angel and her needy cunt,” he purrs and gives you a peck before dropping to his knees again, eyes hungry as he pulls you to the counter edge, legs spread. “I’ll make it all better.”

Even with the lull, with your libido, tormented something grand, the aftershocks still tremor within your muscles. A drop of pain with every shot of pleasure; the former spikes sky-high as his mouth melds to the bare sensitivity of your sex.

A sharp sound escapes you, jolting entirely against a barrage of smarting sensations. Your legs end up over his shoulders, heels grazing the flex of his shoulder blades as another tremor lulls through your body.

“I - I think I’m too sensitive—“

“No, no,” he says, insistent, pulling away for only a second, “it’s okay. I got you. You just enjoy the ride ‘cause I know I am.”

Then he hunkers down and delves in like a starved man getting his fill. His strong arms encircle your thighs, bulging muscles and veins as he keeps you spread and vulnerable, laid out with your legs propped over his shoulders.

The wet warmth of his mouth forms a seal around you, tongue flattening against your clit and cheeks hollowing with suction. A squeal escapes your throat as your nerves fray, and your body jerks, but it doesn’t do much against his ironclad grip.

You feel him grin, his dilated pupils a gleam of mischief; so you retaliate by burying your hands in his hair and yanking at the roots, hard. A groan rumbles through his throat, and his eyes roll back, shutting, then reopening with a distinctly primal intensity reflecting up at you.

With a growl, he does it, again, swathing the sensitive bud in raw sensation until you’re grappling his thick locks; which only makes him groan in delight and nuzzle his face deeper. He spreads your outer lips with his thumb and forefinger while he laps at your center like a bear would to honey.

“O - oh, God—fuck!” you gasp and moan. “You’re so good at this—h - how are you so good at this?”

His other hand slides underneath and finds your entrance. His middle finger pushes through your folds knuckle-deep, and your silk walls contract around the sudden intrusion. The rough pad crooks into your sweet spot and drags over it as he sets a determined pace.

It’s a practiced attack with his tongue coddling your bundle of nerves, and his dexterity stroking you into oblivion. You think you’re going to lose your mind (if you haven’t already). The intensity makes you woozy, a James-induced high, and the only thing your vision can focus on is him.

The room is a hybrid of your desperate moans and his hungry groans; the messy smack of his mouth on you, your sex squelching around his long, thick digit. It’s pornographic and so fucking hot, the perfect soundtrack for another orgasm to roll in—

And two loud knocks bang against the door and startle you both.

“B, will you come on?!” his sister’s voice shouts through the door—thankfully, no tonal hints being privy to what was happening inside—and you hear her impatient foot tapping on the other side. “We’re ready to cut the cake!”

James’ eyes cloud with agitation, a growl in his throat as he has to detach himself from you and bites out, “Then cut it!”

She huffs. “It’s your birthday! I told you, we can’t cut it without you.”

“Fine!” he snaps. “I'll be there in five minutes.”

“You had five minutes ten minutes ago. You have two.” Her footsteps start to fade, then stop as she adds, “And I don’t know where your best friend is but she better come in the next two minutes, or we’re cutting the cake without her!” There’s a door slam, confirming her egress from his bedroom.

“Oh, she’ll come in the next two minutes,” he murmurs, a devilish smile glittering up at you. “You’re gonna come real hard.”

And you do.

His middle finger thrusts inside you and curls into your g-spot, using the very tip to repeatedly rasp pressure over it. In tandem, his mouth once more claims your molten core for his own and his taste buds bully your clit. It has you pulling his hair, and when he makes that feral growl, baby blues alight, you don’t really have any other choice than to crumble.

You come with a cry. His name a curse and blessing—James—on your lips as your muscles cramp up, and your inner muscles clamp down. Everything shakes, rattled to the very core, your leg trembling over his shoulders and unintentionally digging your heels into his back.

Your bones liquefy. The rush of euphoria breaks you apart in the most exquisite way possible and turns you into mush. The grip on his hair loosens as the arch in your spine relaxes, but your hips continue to writhe as his tongue tracks your plummet.

“B - Bucky,” you whimper pitiful, smarting shocks chopping at your overworked nerves. “T - too much.”

He hums, and you whimper again, which convinces him— despite his reluctance—to ease his onslaught. “Alright, if you insist,” he says and licks his lips glossy with your essence. “But I told you I’d get my birthday licks, and I’ve only gotten started.”

He stands up and grabs your skirt off the ground. His shoulders square as he slips the waistband around your ankles, and you take the hint to slide off the counter so he can hoist it around your hips. Your legs are jelly, but you stay upright all the same, flattening your clutches into his shirt.

“So, when this party ends, I’m going to taste you for hours,” he tells you and unfurls your top to its rightful place over your tits and stomach, smoothing out the additional ruffles. “My tongue is gonna fuck you right here…” His hand sinks under your open zipper and pets your bare sex, index finger tracing your slit. ”…until you’ve cum so many times you go numb from it all.”

He places a chaste kiss on your temple when you whine, dropping his lips to your ear. “Then I’m gonna keep going ‘cause you taste too fucking good to stop.”

#my writing #bucky x reader #bucky x you smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagines #marvel imagines #NO ONE REMINDED ME IT WAS FRIDAY I ALMOST DID NOT POST #unedited i wrote and simply did not read

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elvisabutler · 2 years

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that's alright mama

summary: after seeing you with jupiter and a pregnancy scare austin finds that he really really wants to get you pregnant. pairing: austin butler x fem reader rating: m word count: 1298 warnings: breeding kink! unprotected p in v sex. cream pie. austin's filthy mouth. implications of lactation kink. pregnancy kink? technically? it kind of goes with the breeding kink. minor daddy kink implication? he calls himself baby daddy. tiny bit of come play. it's filth. author's note: welcome to day 9 of kinktober breeding kink with austin butler. so let me tell y'all this right now. this is filthy because breeding kink can inherently be a very dirty kink but also because it's one of my secret kinks. like y'all don't even know. hope y'all enjoy and be on the lookout tomorrow for ( ideally ) mutual masturbation with olivia dejonge and the austin mermaid au.

"What's gotten into you?" You can't help but ask as Austin's behind you, his lips placing increasingly messy kisses against you neck as you attempt to open the front door of your house.

The only answer you get back is a growl as Austin grinds into you, trying to get some friction for his cock. Anything for him to be momentarily distracted from the desire he has to rip your clothes off before you're even in the house.

Austin rarely gets like this and more often than not he's usually a bit tipsy when it happens. So this is completely out of the ordinary. It's so out of the ordinary that when you finally get the key to work and the door to open, you can't help but turn around with a concerned frown. "Seriously, Aust-"

He cuts you off with a kiss. A kiss that's a clash of teeth and tongues. A kiss that forces the air from your lungs and has your mind blanking, forgetting every question you have about why he's acting this way. He walks the two of you back, his foot- you think- kicking the door shut before he has you against the wall. You groan at the sensation of your back hitting the wall and it finally makes you pull away just enough to take a deep breath.

"Austin, what are doing?" You finally are able to ask breathlessly, your chest heaving as you use your hands and arms to force him to not immediately go back to kissing you.

"You." Your eyebrows shoot up and Austin shakes his head as if that's going to clear his thoughts or make them form a coherent sentence. "I need- You looked so perfect with Jupiter. And two months ago, when you were late- God, babe, I thought about it. I thought about you full of me. I thought of you being pregnant. I- I didn't realize I wanted it till then. But I do."

"Oh." It's the the only word that's in your brain at the confession. It's the only word that describes the feeling of pure desire that shoots down your spine at the image Austin's words painted. Your body leans forward a little into him, almost like you're gonna pass out before you whimper a little. "Tell me more. Tell me what you want."

He honestly growls before picking you up, his hands moving to unbutton your pants and pull them down as your hands unbuckle his belt and undo his pants. Your legs move around his waist as you use your feet to force his pants down. You're surprised it works but you're not questioning it, instead focusing on how Austin's kissing at your neck and mumbling until you feel his cock slide into you.

"You'd look so fucking gorgeous, all swollen with my baby. Everyone would know you're mine, know that I did that to you." He thrusts, pushing you against the wall, shaking the pictures hanging near you. His head moves to your breasts, kissing them before nipping off and on in between words. "These are already so sensitive, I practically can get you off when I play with your nipples but they'd swell up with milk for our baby. Be rock hard, you'd probably have to have me suck them for you. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Like feeding your baby daddy?"

The noise that leaves you at his words is practically inhuman, a mix of a keen and a groan and a growl all in one and Austin can't help but laugh sinisterly. "You would. You want me to fill you up, don't you? You want to be full of my cum? Full of my baby? You want to be all swollen like that? Want everyone to know that I loved you so much to give you a baby?"

Normal you, normal not being fucked into oblivion you, normal you who is not having Austin thrust so deep and so hard that you swear he really is trying to fuck a baby into you would like to argue that love is not necessary for a baby. The present you has her cunt clenching around Austin's cock at his words, an orgasm barreling through you without him even touching your clit. The present you is gasping for air and murmuring nonsense into Austin's hair as he manages to get one of your nipples into his mouth. He sucks in a way that he never has before, almost like he's trying to make milk appear.

"Aus, I can't, they're sensitive, don't make me-" You're babbling, trying to get your brain to focus, to settle on a thought, but he keeps sucking and fucking you that your brain is only settling feeling how his cock is stretching you, how deep it feels like it's in you and how you can hear a picture crashing to the ground with how forcefully Austin is thrusting into you.

"Come again? Oh no, oh no babe, you're going to. You're going to come again and I'm going to come. I'm going to fill you up with my come over and over tonight until I know you're not leaving our bed without my baby growing inside of you. Until I know that in a few months you'll have a bump where our baby is growing. A bump I can rub and touch and that's just gonna get bigger. Until I know that the next time I suck these tits of yours? You're gonna give daddy his milk."

That does it, that has you gripping at his back, clawing at his back trying to settle yourself, trying to regain some control of your mind because the image he paints is one you really hadn't thought of but one that is making you want to cry out in pleasure. You do your best to grind against Austin's cock from your position and your legs grip him tighter, forcing him deeper inside and causing him to hiss and curse lightly. Everything is so overwhelming that you barely notice Austin's hand slipping between the two of you until you're clenching around him- not quite coming but you can feel his fingers right near your clit and you force yourself to utter something resembling words.

"Give me your come, Austin. Please, give me your baby." Your voice is soft but so commanding that you feel Austin violently shudder against you before you feel a burst of warmth inside of you as he continues to play with your clit and you feel yourself following Austin's release with a choked off sigh.

The two of you stay there, both of your chests heaving as you catch your bearings. Austin's hands are shaking a little and so you kick your legs against his back your universal cue to tell him to let you down and he obliges. The whine that leaves you when his cock slips out, when you can feel his come dripping out is so needy that you feel more than a bit embarrassed. Austin looks at you and seems to sense that and rather than reassure you, he lets himself move down to your thighs and play with the dripping come before forcing it back up inside of you. He can't catch it all but damn if he was going to waste too much of it. Your cunt twitches at the attention and he can't help but bite his lip.

"So-" He starts, his eyes not even bothering to leave your cunt.

"Bath, Butler." You say in lieu of anything else and with your voice shaking. "Then we'll talk."

He gulps and finally looks up at you. "About?"

Your lips quirk into a smile as you put your hand under his chin. "About you actually making that a reality, daddy."

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler x y/n #austin butler smut #i need jesus.#truly.#i need jesus after this.#not me trying to take everything from damn near any breeding kink fic i've ever read.#y'all should be thankful i didn't go abo or werewolf with this. because trust me ya girl almost did.#ally's kinktober 2022 #kinktober 2022 #also fun fact i only spell come the way i do because of my old fandom days when i was told not to spell it as cum.#no one is reading these tags but i am trying to come to terms with what i wrote okay.#ally writes #austin butler x you #this is why i'm real thankful that there's probably not going to be any smut in the mermaid au.#i need a minute after this.

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sadnessunderthebridge · 2 years

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Just saw these at my Walmart first thought immediately went to steddie. Eddie would definitely give all these to Steve at some point.

No cause just imagine it's Steve's birthday and everyone got him gifts and Eddie makes sure that his is last.

"Here the last one," says Dustin as he passes over the present "it's from Eddie".

And Steve knowing his boyfriend just know that this is gonna be embarrassing so he tries opening it so no one can see.

And he's right it is embarrassing.

Just reading the top plate, BABY GIRL, he immediately tries covering it back up so no one can see what it says, to scared to look at the others underneath knowing they are probably juat as bad.

He can feel Eddies stare from beside him on the couch, can feel his breath on his ear as he gets closer.

"You know it's rude to not look at the rest of them right Stevie? I got them custom made just for you."

Steve can't suppress the shiver that goes down his spine, his face quickly heating up.

"B-but the other will see" He whispers back

"That's the point baby," He feels Eddie say it more then actually hear him say it "now be a good boy and finish opening it."

He looks around the room and sees everyone is already looking at them. Robin and Nancy, the jerks, are already smirking at him, they probably already knows what they say. With a small gulp he starts to unwrap the present again, he can feel the pressure on the back of his neck where Eddie has his hand.

Fuck. He thinks as he opens it again to see the sign trying as hard as he can to not let the others see. He moves to the next sign. PRINCESSES in big black letters. He has to shift in his seat as his blood starts going south, which causes his face to heat up even more.

He quickly switches to the next plate SPOILED. This one isn't as bad as the others but it's still embarrassing.

He gets to the last plate and immediately freezes.

DADDY'S GIRL

He is at a loss of what to do, part of him what's to turn around and jump Eddies bones, and th other part wants to curl up in a hole from embarrassment.

OKAY THATS ALL I'M NOT GOING TO ACCIDENTALLY TURN THIS INTO SMUT THATS ALL! NOTHING ELSE!

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completemessash · 1 year

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Make you feel better (a.i.)

notes: this is my first post, yayyyy. feedback, reblogs and comment are greatly appreciated! also follow me for more and requests are open! ❤️

Warnings: boyfriend Ashton, established relationship, blowjob, swallowing, hair pulling, dirty talk, Ashton x reader

×××

Ashton's eyes were half closed as he stared at the ceiling. He had been working on new songs the past days, almost non stop and he was visibly exhausted.

You had offered him his favourite drink, to watch his favourite show with him and asked what he wanted to eat.

He had only replied with a shake of his head or a grunting sound that said no.

But you wanted to make him feel good, he deserved to feel better, he deserved everything.

"Ash?", you tried again, reaching out to brush your knuckles over his thigh.

His eyes slipped closed but he once again didn't say anything.

"Let me make you feel better", you whispered and leaned in to kiss his cheek.

Finally, his tired eyes met yours. "You don't have to do anything, baby. I'm just being a little dramatic."

You shook your head no immediately.

"You worked all week, babe"

"S just music"

"Which doesn't mean it can't be exhausting"

He bit his lip at that. He knew you were right but often he felt like he shouldn't complain about hos job when you worked a hard 9 to 5 job and he got to tour the world and write music.

"Okay?", you asked for reassurance and he smiled. He tried to hold it back by biting his lip once more but he couldn't hide his excitement from you.

"A little something would be nice, I can't deny that", he said coyly.

That was all you needed to slip off the couch and between his already willingly spread thighs.

Your nimble fingers opened his fly, tugging of his pants with your help and letting his underwear follow. He was only half hard but that would be changed soon.

"Babe", he murmured when you didn't start with what you both knew he wanted and instead kissed his hips, slightly biting the soft skin and occasionally 'accidentally' letting his cock brush your jaw or cheek.

His soft curved lips escaped a small gasp when you finally took his tip into your mouth. You made sure to keep your teeth hidden and your tongue dipping into his slit, while your left hand stroked his cock to full hardness.

"Y/N", he moaned your name when you leaned down further and took him into your mouth as far as you could. A pinch to his thigh indicated what you wanted him to do: use you.

"Fuck, fuck", he groaned when his hands grabbed onto your hair and pushed you down until your nose was just barely touching his pelvis. You were choking and struggling to keep breathing but it was okay. He needed this and you wanted to give him everything he wanted even if it meant you were going to die from it. Of course you weren't gonna die and he wouldn't let that happen but you knew that you would do it for him. And he would do the same for you.

An almost high pitched moan pulled you from your thoughts and brought you back to reality. Ashton was thrusting his hips up from the couch, fucking your mouth slowly with his hands still gripping your hair. But you wanted him to moan louder than those small sounds and his hands to be restlessly pulling while his hips stuttered.

So you increased your pace and soon he was following your wish.

"Y/N, fuck", he groaned as his hips gained speed and you felt tears brim your eyes, "You suck my dick so fucking good - love - love when you're such a g - good girl for me"

You let out an appreciative moan that made Ashton throw his head back on the couch, hips thrusting up even more and you had to sig your nails into his thighs to stop the urge to pull off. He was so far down your throat, you couldn't even imagine how sinful the outline of his big hard cock in your cheeks must have looked.

"I'm about to-", he warned you in case you wanted to pull of but you just moaned again and bobbed your head against his thrusts. He noticed the way you couldn't help but spread your own thighs, rolling your hips towards the floor to have it rub over your center but he didn't comment on it. You both knew he was going to do that later and you were already excited for the taunting way he would speak about you having to get yourself off because sucking him off made you so wet.

For now, you were both concentrated on Ashton's hard cock that was starting to twitch lightly in your mouth.

"Fuck, fuck, ah", he moaned louder than before and the same moment he pulled your hair so hard it stung just a little more than you were comfortable with, he cock was spurting into your mouth.

Hot cum was hitting the back of your throat and through watery eyes you watched his eyes squeeze shut and his mouth hang wide open. He was so hot when he was like this and even though you were well aware that you weren't the first one to see him like this, he had promised you often enough that he wanted you to be the last. He was made for you and he wanted you to keep him.

"Show me", his voice was raspy when he asked you, his softening dick resting on his hip.

You obeyed him, all to eager to be that good girl he had called you, and opened your mouth for him.

His fingers danced over your jaw as he hummed like he was considering whether he liked you showing him his cum that was slowly starting tö drip out one of the corners of your mouth so he had to push it back in with his fingers.

He loved it, you both knew that, it made him feel like you belonged to him.

"Good girl, baby", he finally approved and you smiled, then swallowed the sticky mess. For some reason you always loved the taste of it even though to most people cum was disgusting. Maybe it was just him and his tasted good. Too bad that no one else would ever taste it, you thought cockily.

"How do you feel?", you asked when you got off your knees, helping him back into his pants and cuddling into his side. Partly to make sure he wasn't going to get up and go right back to recording music.

"Good", he smiled and pressed a kiss to your swollen lips, "but shouldn't I be asking you that?"

You shrugged. "This was about you, Ash, just for you. Just wanted to make you feel better"

"I'm always better when you're with me"

He laughed when you called him a sap and hit his chest.

Later on, when he asked to repay the favor and you said he didn't have to but he was insisting because getting you off gave him just as much pleasure as you getting him off, you weren't calling him that anymore.

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