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#HE EATS PUSSY
imaggots · 2 years
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javier would def give good head
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sky-is-the-limit · 4 months
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"𝑰𝒏 𝒂 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒔, 𝒉𝒆'𝒔 𝒂 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒍𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒏."
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fluffylino · 4 months
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pussy drunk minho
he'll never admit how dumb he gets for your pussy~
-contains mature themes
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"kitten, im not that obsessed with your pussy" minho scoffed out. you clicked your tongue.
now that was a lie.
"i doubt you could last an entire week without it" you argued back. he smirked.
"game on." now it was your turn to make a face.
"so if i win, you'll wear the collar?" his expression dropping. you could see the wheels in his head turning. wondering if he could really beat you against this game.
"that is...that is if you win. which you won't im sure of it but alright" you couldn't help but smile.
"deal"
"seriously though i can live without eating you out..." you laughed right in his face. to which he rolled his eyes.
the whole argument starting when you asked if you could dom him. his immediate response being a firm no. you couldn't help but whine, even begging for it.
if he could dom you. you could dom him.
his response being "i'd rather be the one in control. i feel uneasy submitting."
so you decided to pry more into it. you wanted to know more. to truly understand him.
"because i feel like my mind will go all fuzzy and i'll look like an idiot" that was exactly why you wanted to take charge. if not for sometime. you were happy even if it was a one time thing.
minho was cute eitherway and he'd be even more cuter on his knees.
and then what really did it for you was when he said he wasn't that obsessed with eating you out.
a lie honestly.
his morning routine consisting of waking you up with his face between your legs. breathless and absolutely horny. grinding against the mattress.
it didn't matter if he had to go out. that always came first. and he was one to give amazing head. always having that confident smirk after making you cum.
.
.
the day one was fine.
he seemed normal. doing his daily tasks. going to the company. coming back all sweaty and laying on your chest. you couldn't help how sweet he was.
day three was when you noticed him staring.
you hadn't even realised the t shirt you were wearing had ridden up. enough to have your panties exposed. he was talking to you about the dance formations when all of a sudden you noticed the way his eyes kept lingering downwards.
so playfully you spread your legs open and closed them. you weren't being obvious. him on the other hand was captivated.
eyes locked onto your covered heat.
"minho." you called out. he looked back at your face so fast you wanted to laugh.
"hm?" he hummed out, casually walking out of the room, mumbling that he was going to shower.
when he did go for a bath, you pressed your ear against the door. a heat pooling in your lower abdomen at the sound of him jacking off.
"pfft and he says he can do without it" you muttered under your breath.
.
"you want my cunt so bad, don't you baby" you teased. loving the way he hid his face in the pillows beside you. it looked like he was throwing a tantrum.
"come onnn just put the collar on and then you can taste me-" you suggested, rubbing his back.
"no no no no no-" he chanted cutting you off mid sentence, voice muffled.
stubborn as hell. there was no possible way he would do it.
.
.
"was it that difficult, huh?" minho stared up at you with crazy eyes.
first of all, to get him on his knees was a hassle. and now he glared at you playfully. you let out a small laugh. he really looked like an angry kitten. the clip on cat ears and black collar around his neck made him look so soft.
"are you gonna be a goo-"
"just let me eat y-" you clicked your tongue. now he was really pissing you off. a bratty smile on his face. you just wanted to slap him.
"yes yes. now can i-"
"thats it. im done" you stood up, ready to leave. until you were pulled back. minho gripping your thighs. a look of guilt on his face.
"i'm sorry. i'll be good" he mumbled, a small pout emerging.
"promise?"
"hmmmm"
you sighed. you didn't trust him yet. so you took the leash out. his mouth opening and closing when you hooked it onto the collar. his eyes locked onto were you clutched the leash.
"wh-"
his original question turning into a breathy moan. his face plummeting between your legs.
inhaling your soaked panties for a good few seconds. before he lifted his head back up.
using his teeth to take off your panties. you could see the way his breath hitched upon seeing your cunt. it had been so long since. he saw your pussy. after days. up close. leaning in.
a firm tug to the collar. a small grunt leaving him.
"you think you can just get right into it?" you raised an eyebrow, looking down at him. he seemed to understand. his pride wouldn't let him. but reluctantly he asked.
"may i...please?"
you nodded. satisfied.
.
you gasped. fuck you hadn't even realised how much you missed his mouth on you. his tongue licking into your cunt.
nose deliciously rubbing against your clit. face practically buried there. you were worried he wouldn't be able to breathe.
so you held onto his collar, pulling him back.
"m-mmmh... i-ive been so good" he whined, breathing heavily. your essence and his spit staining his chin and nose.
you noticed he was hard. precum soaking into his sweatpants.
"don't think i didn't notice you humping my foot" you choked out.
pussy throbbing at the loss of contact. you needed his mouth back on you.
"couldn't h-help it, sorry" he apologised, keeping his head down. as if he didn't deserve it. you ran your hands through his hair, tucking a few strands behind his ear.
"its okay, kitten. use my leg, hm?" you reassured, closing your legs around his head.
"aahmmhh f-fuck" minho cried out. enveloped by your thighs. nevertheless taking the opportunity to slurp at your dripping cunt. lewd noises echoing throughout the room.
his hips slowly moving. beginning to grind against your foot. you unconciously pressed down on his cock.
a muffled whimper escaping him.
"you're such a slut, a-aren't you" you hissed out. his lips wrapped around your swollen clit. as he sucked. pushing his nose against your cunt. trying to take more than he could possibly handle.
"say it, baby. you're a slut.." he gasped, glassy eyes looking up at you. sweat dripping down his neck.
lips swollen and red.
"s-slut for...for your p-pussy" he repeated. begging to make you cum.
"dumb f-for your cunt only ahhh"
"please p-please c-cum m-mommy" your breath hitching at the name. you let him get back. cock begging for release.
"gonna cum?" you whimpered out, nearly your climax. his head shaking as he humped your leg desperately.
"c-come on kitty, make me cum"
you moaned loudly, his wet muscle shoved so deep inside of you. his own high pitched moan joining you. both of you cumming at the same time.
a wet patch on his pants. his hips still bucking as he let his tongue hang out. riding his climax out.
nevertheless he cleaned you up. licking and running his tongue through your folds. making sure to not waste a single drop of your tasty essence.
small little whines leaving him at your taste.
"my perfect kitty" you praised him. minho panting as he looked at you. pouting. asking for a kiss. his head resting against your thigh.
"good k-kitty?"
"did so good for me"
.
.
"yeah okay okay...im a hundred percent drunk on your damn pussy"
"AHAH SO I WON-"
.
.
.
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SHUT UP SHUT UP. I'M DRUNKanD HORNY NOW BC OF YOU. calling konig big bear
PLEASE.
HE'D FREAKING LOVE IT. maybe gets into a primal play type beat. anyways. gotta go write a paper but I'm thinking about him
FUCK
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i think initially his size is definitely an insecurity for him. It's part of the reason he wasn't able to become a sniper and something that draws people's attention to him simply because he's looms over nearly everyone when he walks into a room.
      The first time you call him big is in the field when he saves you from getting your head blown off.
     You hardly have the time to react. All you hear is the crack in his voice as he roars out "Sniper!" before he slams into your side and sends you toppling to the ground.
     He cups the back of your head in his head before you make contact with the ground.
     There's a moment of silence between the pair of you. your own body dwarfed by his that keeps you pinned to the dirt. Panic seeds its way into his mind and he wonders if you hit the ground too hard before a wide grin splits your face in half.
     "Thanks big guy."
     As time goes on, he’s hardly ever König to you. Its Big guy. Big man. Big fella. 
     Big. Big. Big. 
      His size is no longer a point of contention or something whispered about by others in the mess hall when he walks by. It spoken of like praise. Rolling off your tongue in a way that feels far to dirty to be said in public as you bump your hips to his in a joke he isn’t quite sure he understands. But he likes it anyways. He likes you. 
      That how he became your Big bear. 
     The first time you said it, he swore he had found nirvanna. Your hands tangled in his hair while riding his cock in the barracks. The poor man had worried about hurting you, but you were quick to put his worries to ease. 
     “Your perfect.” Your voice trembled in his ear as you mewled against the crook of his neck. “So perfect, my big bear.” 
       König savors the way you say it. The highest praise ever offered to him. 
      “My big bear.” you pulled away to look into his eyes and smiled. “That’s you, isn’t it? My big bear?” 
      König didn’t care if in that moment the entire squadron heard him as he moaned out “yes, yes.” while fucking into you without abandon. All he cared about was the way your cunt fluttered around him as he fucked up into you and the smile on your face when you called him yours. All the soldier could do was snap his hips against yours and nod against your chest while mumbling an endless chant while making you cum.  k
     “I’m yours. I’m your big bear. Yes, yes, please, please, please. Say it again? Call me your big bear please, please, please. ” 
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n33dydoll · 1 month
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Hi everyone!!! :3
Since I’ve been getting the same questions over again I thought I’ll do one of these information thingys
sooooo
I’m Jules/Juliane but seriously call me whatever you want:3
I’m eighteen
I’m a sub
I’m five foot one
I can speak 🇩🇪🇵🇱🇬🇧
————————————————————————————
I feel like I want to try everything at least once so I will just say that my limit is scat and vomit, everything else I will give a try at least once!!!
I’m very much into choking,age gaps and older men:3
If you are under 18 pls do not interact with me and don’t report if you don’t like something, just block me.
Remember that I don’t owe you anything by posting and I don’t owe you anything if you send me a dick pic.
I don’t answer people in my DMs who just say “hi/hey” , “you’re hot” , “do you send?” etc. be more creative if you want to get my attention…😇
🎀My snapchat is: juless.mrt🎀
_________________________________________________
If u want to see my small body look at the #look at me! hashtag🎀
If you want to see some asks that I’ve answered look at the #anon ask hashtag🎀
I dunno, personal stuff-> #personal
BACKUP -> @n333dydoll
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ccrites · 25 days
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chokehold
listen, I've had this idea in my wips for a while (since the begnining of the year actually) and the fat reader worms have been wiggling in third gear with all the awesome stuff early ( @391780 ) has been putting out lately. So have 6.4k words of Soap being an absolute pussy eating freak but you know you love him
(also on ao3 if you prefer the formatting there, or if you want to drop a kudo)
.
The second the doors swing back closed behind you, you start feeling the scratchy feeling of doubt at the back of your throat.
It was predictable, really.
A small gym in a small town, heads turn when the hinges creak, not because they’re staring at you specifically, but because it’s a reflex.
Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself to keep the scratchy feeling from turning sour in your mouth. Or make you throw up from embarrassment.
Perhaps your New Year’s resolution should’ve been to start on a home gym type of situation. Buy yourself some girly weights, a mat, and some sort of stepping device, and do those easy exercises every slim, pretty, high-ponytailed YouTube instructor seemed to preconize people out of shape do. Like a hamster on a wheel inside their cage. A rat chasing its own tail, maybe.
No, you promised yourself no more fake promises. Perhaps the money spent on the gym membership (stupid fucking New Year’s promotion) would motivate you to use it, lest it’s just money down the drain. 
You wore the stretchiest, thickest pair of black leggings you owned, hoping no one would see the terrible shape of your underwear through it. On the opposite spectrum of things, you knew the largest hoodie you owned would smother you and make you boil with sweat, so you chose the next best thing: the widest black t-shirt you owned. It was definitely not black enough, the dye faded into a dark gray from use over the years, but it was the only thing that camouflaged your body enough from the others’ sight. God forbid they imagine what your body actually looks like underneath.
The heads pretty quickly turned back around as you started walking towards the empty treadmills. It couldn’t have been more than a second, but the combined weight of at least a dozen pairs of scrutinizing eyes would’ve been enough to make you turn on your heels and back to your car, fuck the membership price.
At the very least, you could convince yourself that walking in place (no better than a hamster on its wheel but oh well) would be enough to get you started. Baby steps, and all.
It doesn’t take long for you to realize the treadmill fucking sucks. Why would anyone suggest looking at a parking lot while suffering instead of the pretty scenery of a park or forest (while also suffering, but still).
The timer you’d set for the warm-up (ten minutes, just like the pretty blonde coach suggested!) crawls by way too slowly for your taste. You’d be all but whooping with joy when it beeps if you weren’t so out of breath and conscious of a gaze on you.
You’d seen him as soon as you walked in.
Between figures of balding men trying to get rid of their beer gut with abs, two thin women whispering to themselves in a corner while trying to look inconspicuous, and a few other, completely average-looking men and women, there he stands, eyes meeting yours in the mirror as he deadlifts an impressive amount of black plates.
He immediately looks straight ahead, correcting his stance, as if there were anything to be corrected, in your unathletic opinion. The muscles in his arms bulge even through the thin, grey hoodie, and the ones in his legs coil tight as the weight is lifted off the ground in a slow, controlled motion. Not even a grunt escapes his lips, at least no one you could hear from where you stood, completely mesmerized.
There was always something almost unappealing about overly muscled men. Their wife’s not feedin’ ‘em enough, your granny would grumble when passing by the rows of magazines at the checkout of the supermarket. 
Yet this man.
Yeah, he was muscled. But in a way, he looked… almost normal. Like he was built for strength, not necessarily vanity. Each bend of his legs, each twist of his arms…
You’d swoon if you hadn’t lowered your standards so low he’d trip on them. Accepted it a long time ago. Fats belong with fats, thins with thins, and if there’s a thin with a fat, either one’s getting fattened up, or the other’s getting dumped. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy, and one you’d rather not be a part of.
You walk with shaky legs to the water dispenser, then get ready to grab the second to lightest weights to try some bicep curls.
You try to remember the positioning from the videos. Rotate in… or out? Should the wrists be like this? You go through ten repetitions on each side, before you think that you should’ve gone for the abs straight away. God knows there’s fat to burn there, and that the flab under your arms can wait.
You turn back from the rack and walk straight into a wall.
No, a chest.
Fuck.
“Sorry there, miss,” says a deep voice. You detect some sort of accent, unable to quite place it right away.
Your eyes run up, instinctively stopping for a second at chest level (holy heavens that’s a Chest with a capital C if you’ve ever seen one) before finally meeting that same pair of eyes you met a few minutes ago, through the mirror.
Double fuck.
“S-sorry, it’s me, wasn’t watching,” you stammer out, gesturing to the weights in a panicked way. “Just, y’know, switching exercises,” you sputter with a nervous laugh, like it was a completely normal thing to switch exercises after one rep.
He chuckles, and you really need to start planning your escape, because holy shit the way his pectorals rise and fall as his chest puffs up is getting a bit too much for your poor little humiliated self to handle, but he doesn’t let you as he speaks in a soft tone.
“I’m getting arms aren’t really your thing, eh?” he asks, not unkindly. Gosh, did it have to be a Scottish accent?
You can’t meet his eyes, they’re too blue, too piercing for your liking. “To be fair I don’t know what’s my thing yet, I’m just starting out, y’know?” you shift your weight on your legs, conscious of the size difference, and not in the way you wanted to be. Your neck is very warm all of a sudden.
He laughs again, like it’s the funniest thing in the world, and you almost want the floor to open up and swallow you whole, but the words that come out of his mouth are completely unexpected.
“Figured! A girl with thighs like yours, I’m sure you can deadlift more than me with just a lil’ training. I’m Johnny, by the way,” he adds in passing, as if offering his name is the least of his concerns. “You ever got someone to train you?”
You’re entirely unsure if you’re dreaming or not. Did this Scottish hunk of muscle really just offer to be your personal trainer?
“Never - uh… lifted anything, I guess. Just when moving, my couch and bed and all, but I had a friend help me.” You definitely feel like you’re oversharing and you’re struggling to ignore the weight of the gaze of the two thin women, burning through you as they whisper among themselves, when you realize you hadn't answered the second part. “Oh and, uh– no. I’ve never… trained. Been trained. It’s my first time in a gym since- a while. I don’t want to bother you.”
You finally look up at him, and you’re unable to read his expression. There’s a sort of curiosity, a fascination, that blends fast into a wide-eyed joy that’s so open, so sincere that it makes your head spin as he gently but firmly grabs your wrist and pulls you where his bar stands on the thick mat, ignoring your sputtering protests. “Not a bother at all, lass!” He lets go of you as he bends down and effortlessly racks the barbell, starting to remove plates as he continues. “We can start by measuring your max lift, then the one where you can easily do three reps, then we’ll hike it up till failure, so I can calculate your starting training weight!” he rambles on excitedly. You nervously shift on your feet, conscious of more curious gazes on you, but then he’s back in your bubble, pulling your attention towards him like a magnet.
His smile is like a blazing sun, and you don’t have the heart to tell him to prepare for disappointment.
He’s infinitely patient as he shows you how to place your feet, and the angle of your hips (oh, how you feel your knee weaken at the feel of his light tough through the leggings, nothing short of electrifying, despite being perfectly friendly), the hold on the bar. It’s all a blur till you find yourself bent over in front of him, looking in the mirror at your position and trying not to feel conscious of the way he’s placed behind you. Or let your mind wander in inappropriate places.
“Whenever yer ready, hen.”
You brace yourself, close your eyes for a brief second, wondering how the hell you’d landed on this planet, then breathe in, open your eyes-
The weight is in your hands. Not on the floor. You’re holding it.
You almost drop it when he cheers behind you, warm palms rubbing down from your shoulders to your elbows and back up. “Easy! I told you you’d be a natural! ‘S all in the legs and you’ve got awesome legs, bonnie! Let’s add twenty more.”
It’s a blur of racking and de-racking and lifting once and setting back, and redoing it again and again. You’re out of breath, sweating like a sinner in church, but you’re smiling along with him, finding yourself giving him double high fives, and doing small, excited jumps.
“Next one’s exactly my weight, if y’can lift that, I’ll be losing my bloody mind! D’you realize how well yer doin’ for a first-timer?” He says as he bends next to you, adjusting the bar for the next set of weights. With a wipe of his forearm over his forehead, he crouches slightly down, placing his head right above your shoulder and looking your reflection in the mirror straight in the eyes with a conspiratory grin. “Swear to God, if ye can lift it off the ground, I’m buying you the most expensive drink at the bar next door!” he says, grin blending into a blinding smile, too genuine for your own good.
He’s just friendly, just friendly, just friendly, you say to yourself like a mantra as you position yourself. He stands again to his full height behind you, hands ready under the bar, a safenet.
Deep breath in– hold it…
Slowly but surely, you lift the weight off the floor, your ears ringing from the effort. You see his lips move as he cheers you on, but the blood pumping in your eardrums makes it impossible to hear him. Suddenly, the weight is back on the ground and your feet are off the floor as you’re lifted in a tight embrace and spun around like you weigh nothing.
You yelp and flail but he’s holding you tight, face pressed smack-dab in the middle of your chest, between your tits, rumbling praises about your prowess while you’re trying to figure out whether this can be something that your brain is capable of summoning as a dream.
“Put me down, Johnny, oh my God, put me down!”
He thankfully complies but not before squeezing your ass tighter, and suddenly nothing feels real anymore.
“Jesus, I knew ye were perfect,” he says, pulling back reluctantly to rerack the bar and put back the weights. “I cannot wait to properly start training ye’ tomorrow, but for now, I have a promise ta’ keep, and, uh, let’s just say I wouldn’t mind using those strong thighs as earmuffs with this freezin’ weather. On the way back from the bar, what d’ya say?” he adds, wiggling his eyebrows with a crooked smile that lets you know he’s joking around. (Is he?)
You laugh with him and for a second, you forget what you were here for.
+++
The way to the bar is short. It was just a block away (Good for business, he jokes), but the conversation with Johnny made time really fly by. 
He seems genuinely glad when you tell him you’d decided to head to the gym not just as a New Year’s resolution, but trying to simply become a better you. There’s no condescendence, no talking down, no (God forbid) pity, just an overall nice interaction the whole time. He tells you about being on leave as a soldier (Medical leave, he specifies, a fucked up knee can work in a gym, but it’s a different story out in the field), you tell him about your studies and how that led into a “big girl” job that left you no time for yourself.
“But I’ve always been a big girl,” you feel the need to justify. “Just… gotten bigger as I stopped finding time to move. The desk and the laptop are pretty stationary,” you joke, still trying to make sense of why a man like him (broad, and tall, and strong, and… gosh, just perfect-looking) would even deign to accept being seen with you.
(It’s not a date, you dumbass)
“I happen to like big girls,” is what you don’t expect him to say.
Wait, what?
His blue eyes glue you to your seat, and you respond dumbly. “What?”
“I mean, why do you think I’d offer to train you?” he continues, placing his hand, big and warm over your thigh. It’s squished as you sit, wide and flattened in your seat, yet his hand covers a good amount, almost covering the whole width.
Your brain is short-circuiting but you have to answer something.
“Out of– uh… out of niceness?” you stammer out, feeling your insecurities climb back out of the hole they’d been sleeping in all this time, making you shrink even more, trying to cover yourself as if he didn’t see right through you with that piercing gaze. “To feel good seeing you be the reason I lose weight?”
He chuckles, squeezing your thigh as his head hangs down, almost as if to hide the smile that spreads on his lips.
“Strength training doesn’t work like that, bonnie.” He looks back up, and his eyes are blue, and wide, and so pretty, that you can’t find anything to argue back. “Ye’ think building glutes underneath that fat arse does anything but make it bigger?” He shifts, inching closer as he licks his lips and drops his voice lower. “Ye’ think growing your quads will make this,” he gives an even firmer squeeze, wiggling the fat back and forth, and you tense under his grip, but he’s got you pinned down, “any less wide and soft?”
He presses closer, and the booth has no escape room, you’re practically squeezed into the corner as he pushes his body against yours, bending to whisper lowly in the crook of your neck.
“I did not joke when I said I want yer pretty thighs wrapped tight around my head.”
You can’t be blamed when you don’t remember how you ended up in the back of a cab, Johnny barely taking the time to bark an address to the poor driver and throw fifty quid on the front seat before kissing you absolutely senseless, shamelessly groping your tits with a hand and wrapping the other around your thigh, squeezing you close.
You should probably think more about going home with basically a stranger, no matter how hot, but when he presses his entire palm against your cunt, cupping it over the quickly dampening pair of leggings that didn’t seem so thick anymore, you can’t think at all. He swallows your quiet moans, and hums contently against your lips, taking each gasp for air as an invitation to slither his tongue into your mouth. God, you’d forgotten what a good makeout session was like, and you can’t even find it in you to be embarrassed when you see the cabbie’s eyes in the rearview mirror, instantly looking away when you see him staring. 
Johnny doesn’t seem to mind either, and when he notices you looking in the front again and again, he crowds you against the door behind the driver with a huff, half-climbing over you until his knee is pressed against your core, and the only thing in your field of vision is him.
“Johnny,” you try to say, but it’s getting hard to think, with the way you’re being squeezed in a corner, this hunk of a man of pure muscle pressing against you like a weighted blanket, kissing you like you were a drop of water in the desert and he was a parched man drinking you for his salvation. You feel his excitement pressed against your thigh, and it gives you enough lucidity to try again. “Johnny,” you gasp out again, “aren’t we going a little fast?”
He laughs instead, choosing to focus on the side of your mouth, pressing fervent little kisses down your neck before starting to suckle the delicate skin over where your clavicle is. “I can go as slow as you’d like, bun.” He takes the spot an inch next to the previous one into his mouth and sucks again, this time more forcefully, marking you, and oh God you’re going to have to conceal it before work tomorrow, unless you can find a turtleneck to wear–
The cab driver clears his throat, and you notice that the car is stopped in front of a small apartment complex. Johnny says a cordial thanks as he pulls you out of the car and throws another twenty on the backseat, before wrapping his arm around your shoulders and taking all of the thinking out of the equation as he walks you to the entry.
His flat is pretty well furnished, all things considered, but he doesn’t give you enough time to observe the deco as he presses you against the door and slides his hand under your leggings.
“Got me starin’ at that ass the second you walked in, best fuckin’ thing I’ve seen in months, d’ye realize that, bonnie?” he breathes out against your ear as his entire palm cups your sex, and you can only whine as you press your forehead into the crook of his neck. “And by how wet this pussy is, I think you liked starin’ at me, too.”
“You are–” you say, but he curls his middle finger in, spreading your lips and spreading the wetness to your clit, making you choke on your words, “-very nice to stare at.”
“Yeah?” you hear the grin in his voice.
“Mmhm,” you nod, as he keeps the back and forth of his finger, never dipping in too far, just keeping you hungry for more.
“Then how’d ye like to stare down at me as I taste this wet cunt of yours?” he purrs in your ear as he stops moving completely, letting the words process.
Brain.exe has stopped functioning. 
Had you ever had a boyfriend willing to speak filth like that to you when you were down to do the deed, maybe you would’ve gotten enough practice to know what to answer something sensible and intelligible to that, but as it stands, all you can muster is a very dumb-sounding “Huh?” as you stare back at him.
And that, apparently, is the funniest thing in the world to him, because he dips his head down and laughs, almost like a boyish giggle. Not only does that not stop him from kneeling in front of you, but it also somehow gives him more confidence to keep talking like that.
“How about you look down into my eyes as I eat out your pretty little pussy and make you come around my tongue, how’s that sound?” His baby blues bear no trace of maliciousness, no trace of a joke, as his fingers hook around the waistband and trace it around your stomach. You have to make a very conscious effort not to suck it in immediately in preparation for the letdown, but he doesn’t pull them down yet, only moving his hand alongside the edge. Your silence as you try to process what is happening only seems to spur him on instead. “In fact, how about you close your eyes, I close mine, and you hold my head close as I devour you, would you let me do that, pretty girl?”
“I’m not-” you can’t think of any way to properly let him down, not when he looks up with such pleading eyes, so the words stumble out gracelessly. “I’m sweaty, you don’t wanna–”
But he interrupts as he pulls your leg closer by gripping your thigh and squishing it against his cheek “But I do.” He inhales deeply, and your own breath shakes at the sight of how blissed out he already looks. “God, I want it. Let me have this.”
A voice somewhere inside yells at you that this has to be some sort of weird fetish, and that he most certainly won’t be having the same aura of desperation around him tomorrow, when post-coital rationale shows up and he sees your body past the veil of lust, but for now, you think that getting some with Johnny cannot be that bad compared to any one of your past encounters. Might as well enjoy it when you still can.
You wrap your hand around the one he still has around your waistband, and see his face positively light up as you softly caress his cheek.
In the end, you’re the one that pleads.
“Johnny, please.”
Your pants are off you and your leg is over his shoulder before you realize what is happening.
The feel of his warm tongue against your slit makes any thought, any doubt, any fear positively vanish, and the content sigh that he lets out as he licks at you is the same sigh as finally removing a bra at the end of a long day, it’s the sigh of laying down carelessly onto a soft bed after standing up for hours, it’s the sigh of the first bite of the best meal a man has after starving for weeks.
It should be awkward the way his arm wraps around your thigh and sinks into the softness of your stomach, using it to pin you up as he uses his other hand to spread you out enough for him to work his jaw the same way he did when he was making out with you in the car… Yet it’s not. It’s natural, the way his hand squeezes you as he licks, and sucks, and kisses around your pussy, unhurried yet passionate, languidly but firmly, pressing his tongue in, licking around your lips, and maddeningly avoiding the place you wanted him to touch most.
“Johnny,” you moan as he grazes his teeth around your sensitive nub in response. You almost buck out of his hold, but he’s firmly keeping you in place. “Please, don’t tease.”
He hums in response and dives back in, eyes fluttering closed as he ignores your whines. Every time his tongue or lips graze your clit, he works his mouth the opposite way, holding your thigh harder and pressing his palm up as he counters your hip movements with a clever swipe of the tongue. It’s absolutely maddening. “Johnny, please!”
He chuckles as he pulls back, an obscene string of spit lengthening as he pulls back, only breaking when he runs his tongue against his reddened, swollen lips. “Thought ye’ wanted me ta’ go slow, bun.” His eyes sparkle with challenge, but you can also discern a veil of unhidden desperation, of waiting for you to give the go-ahead for him to let loose.
“I’m fine with faster–” you start, but the words dissolve into a barely restrained moan as he hikes your leg up more, getting you closer to him, and immediately singling onto your neglected clit.
His forehead rests onto your belly now, and if you had more than two functioning neurons you’d wonder how he is that he’s breathing, but his hums and moans let you know that he’s perfectly content burrowing his nose in your pussy, nudging at your clit with the tip of it as he licks you with all the dedication you’ve never been shown from a man of his caliber.
He builds it up, and soothes it down, knowing exactly when to put more pressure, or when to teasingly swirl his tongue around your entrance, or to lave broad strokes of his tongue, so much so that the knee that’s not hooked over his shoulder almost gives out on a particularly forceful suck of your clit.
“Easy there,” he groans almost petulantly, as if you’re interrupting him. “Can’t have you fallin’ over when I’m not done wit’ ye.”
“My legs are gonna give out,” you say honestly, trying to catch your breath and avoid having the perfect man at your feet steal it again. “You’re a bit too good at this.” He grins up at you, “Am I?” and you want to give you a playful swat, but instead decide on carding your fingers through his now disheveled mohawk. “Guess the mess on my face speaks for itself… Shall we take this to the bedroom?”
You throw a glance around the apartment, assessing your options. “Couch is closer.” His smile is blinding. “I like how ye’ think.”
It’s now the second time he surprises you by scooping your legs from under you and picking you up like he couldn’t wait any longer and that carrying you bridal-style was the only way he could think of moving you. You yelp out a protest but he swallows it with another hungry kiss, shamelessly smearing your own wetness over your cheek as he walks you both to the couch.
You sink into the cushions where he places you gently without so much as a grunt of effort, and oh God, there they are, the standards are rising.
You reach over to pull him closer as he straightens up, but he only gives you a peck on the lips in return, like he hadn’t been kissing you sloppily the entire time.
“Come back,” you whine, hoping you can get it done before he comes back to his senses, like they all do, but he just smiles and kneels between your feet, hands pressing your thighs apart. The squelch of your lips parting should be embarrassing were he not looking up at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, eyes full of adoration, like a child staring up at the full moon on full display on a clear night’s skies. Maybe you are his moon, his goddess, judging by the lust-clouded look directed at you.
“I did say I was gonna make you come on my face,” he says lowly, the gravel in his voice making you squirm as he places a trail of kisses up your thigh. “And I intend to keep that promise.”
With that, he dives in again, using his forearms to pin your legs open on the couch and his fingers to tease around where his tongue can’t reach. You mewl when you feel his tongue at your entrance, circling it around it briefly before delving in as deep as he could, his right hand stroking your clit rhythmically. The fact that he’s so good at somehow playing all your buttons like a maestro directing an orchestra has you thinking that he must be some sort of womanizer, some freak who does this kind of thing every night, but then his lips wrap around your nub and he gives a firm, long suck, and any restriction that you could’ve conjured up simply vanishes. Your thighs want to close around his head, but you can’t move under the iron grip he has on you.
You fist his hair more forcefully than necessary, and he looks up, wet eyelashes framing his beautiful eyes as he hums in response.
“Please,” you moan, and he hums affirmatively again, closing his eyes to focus on licking and suckling harder. He heard you, he simply doesn’t seem to care. “Johnny.”
“What,” he asks, voice muffled and why is this so hot? 
“I need… I need,” you whine, unable to string the words together, and desperately trying to buck your hips under him, for lack of strength to actually close your thighs how you want to.
That seems to get his attention, and he chuckles, before pulling back with a gentle kiss on your mound. “Guess you’ll have to keep tryin’, pet,” he sussurs, a condescending pat on your thighs before he dives in slower than before.
Oh, the absolute asshole. Now he wants you to work for it?
You think that doing the opposite, relaxing your thighs open and letting him go to town however he wanted would help, but he seems hell-bent on riling you up every once in a while, getting you closer and closer with each lave of his tongue over your poor, overstimulated clit, but never enough to actually push you over the edge.
After what seems like an eternity, and almost, almost starting to think that this was a mistake, halfway ready to let him do this thing before your hip starts to cramp up, you feel a finger nudge at your entrance.
“Fucking finally–” you start, ready to curse him out, but he’s faster than you can think in your blissed-out state, and he slides a second finger alongside the first one, immediately zeroing in on that spot that makes you go cross-eyed and buck under his hold.
“Thassit– there you go, pretty girl,” he murmurs against your clit, and oh, okay, maybe you were closer than you thought, because the rhythmic curl of his fingers doesn’t need to last long before you’re off like an arrow, back arching and thighs squeezing, coming harder than you ever thought was possible. If he were any less skilled at making you completely lose the ability to think, you’d maybe notice that you’d managed to close your thighs almost completely around his head, but he wasn’t, so you don’t, twitching helplessly in the aftershocks of the most wonderful orgasm a man had ever given you.
Limbs that somehow still belong to your body hang uselessly off the side of the couch, and you struggle to catch your breath. You blink lazily, noticing him smugly wipe his face with the back of his hand, his half lidded eyes not any less blissed-out than yours. 
You didn’t believe a man like this ever existed, until now. It aches that this might not be something that would last, so you make grabby hands at him, unable to find the will to speak just yet. 
He laughs softly and gently grabs your arms, kissing from your knuckles slowly up your arm, to the crook of your neck. The patience he has is almost inhuman, as he takes the time to let you regather your senses, matching the marks he made earlier on the other side of your neck. You cup your hand around his head in response, and he smiles at you.
“Ye’ with me, bun?”
“Mmhm.”
“That slow enough fer’ ye’?” He holds himself up, an inch fron your face, and you reach up to kiss him.
“I’m gonna kill you dead,” you mutter against his lips, and he chuckles.
“Let me at least fuck you properly, first,” he whispers, and you notice that he’s long since unbuttoned his pants. You barely get a view of the massive size of him over your belly as he holds himself in his hand, large palm not enough to cover the whole length of him as he strokes himself, angled in such way that his tip rubs against your clit on each downstroke. The word “Please,” is not even halfway out of your mouth when he sinks into you in one swift motion, the rest dissolving into a long, drawn-out moan.
“Fuck-” he grunts, “so tight, cannot believe it.”
He guides one of your legs to wrap around him, keeping it flush against his body with his elbow as his palm grips your ass tightly, the other holding him against the backrest, forearm near your head as he pulls you closer for a sloppy kiss as he starts rolling his hips. You moan into his mouth and he swallows them greedily, leveraging each trust of his hips with a pull with his hand, helping you move in tandem with him, readjusting when your thigh threatens to slip out of his hold. The slaps of his pelvis to yours should sound obscene, his hard muscles hitting against your soft, jiggly skin, but his groans into your mouth are like music to your ears, the fact that he’s vocal about it has you almost reaching your peak again in no time, but he seems to sense it, and slows down immediately.
You try to kiss him harder, but he makes a small noise of protest, muttering something that sounds vaguely like “no, let me, let me just–” and you want to ask what he wants to do, to help him, but he instead reaches down both hands to grab your hips and pull you off the backrest. You yelp as your ass suddenly hangs in the air, his cock speared inside you the only secure point as he pulls you halfway off the couch, but he directs you firmly, “Here, around me,” helping you wrap your legs tightly as he starts thrusting again, harder than before.
“Oh, God, oh God,” you flail around, but each thrust in pushes your back into the cushions, and he reaches behind his back to hold your feet in his hand as he presses his palm near your head for support, spewing more filth as he does.
“That’s it, hold me tight, squeeze my cock like ye’ almost squeezed mah heid off earlier, huh, bonnie? Show me what those thighs can do, fuck-”
Your whole body is jiggling with each thrust, and you don’t have it in you to even feel self-conscious with the way each time he fills you, the tip of his cock nudges against the spongey spot inside, making you mewl in tempo with his relentless rhythm.
“Johnny, Johnny,” you moan, and he bends over to kiss you again, swallowing his name like communion while you chant it like a prayer.
“Don’t give up now, bonnie, keep squeezin’, fuck, I can feel ye’, yer so close.”
You try to get some leverage with your upper body, trying to push yourself up the cushions, but his cock suddenly slips out of you as your thighs almost give out, and an apology is already halfway out your mouth when he kneels back down and burrows between your legs, tongue first with a rushed “Need ta’ taste us, fuck, both of us, together-”
One hand wraps around your hip and over your pelvis, reaching up to knead desperately at your stomach, to pull you closer or push you away, you can’t tell, the other pulling your lips apart to settle his entire lower face against your pussy firmly– before letting go as he starts humming.
Your thighs are free to squeeze around his ears, and he nods encouragingly as he keeps licking, and then you hear it: the sounds of wet stroking. You don’t see him fisting his cock, but you hear it, fast and desperate. As your hand tangles in his hair to pull him closer, and another hum– no, another moan vibrates through your core, it’s the last thing you hear before you’re absolutely gone, gasping out a curse as you tense up in his hold, trembling as you come.
It’s even more intense than the first one, and as you buck out of his hold, he stands up shakily, his hand moving faster and faster around his cock, the angry red of his tip at the same level as your face. You gesture for him to sit down, trying to signal to him that you want to reciprocate despite the post-orgasmic haze and exhaustion, but he shakes his head, and, seconds later, you feel warm wetness land on your belly and slowly trickle down as he moans your name when he comes.
You feel like you still have to give something back, and, when he slumps down next to you with a content sigh, you climb over to place a delicate kiss on the tip of his cock, letting out a huff of laughter when it twitches under your touch.
“Ye’ absolute menace,” he whispers fondly as he pulls you up and tips his body to the side to lie down, using his legs to push you up halfway over him, trapping you between his body and the cushions, yet protectively shielding you from falling over. You place another kiss on his stomach, and you see his abs tense under your touch as your warm breath moves his hairs as you hover for a second, before deciding to shift up and use his pectorals as a cushion. He hums softly as his arm wraps around under yours, reaching to pull the plaid off the back of the couch and settle it around you both. Ticklish, eh? That’s a piece of information best stored for later.
You’re still breathless, absolutely done for. God, best decision of your life, going to the gym. “Now what?” you can’t help but ask. It’s the same fear that always creeps up, the fear that he got to try out a fantasy, and now that he was done with it, he had no need to want to continue anything possibly serious. Not that eating a girl out on a first date, if you could even call it a date, was a sign of a one-night stand, you can’t help but feel awkward and insecure now that it’s all done, despite the comforting cuddle.
He chuckles in response, that same chuckle from earlier in the day, a What a silly question chuckle. Like he’d read into your thoughts and insecurities and found them absolutely laughable.
“Same time at the gym, tomorrow? I want you to squeeze my head off next time.”
“Next time, huh?”
He pulls your leg over his pelvis, trapping his still half-mast cock between his belly and the crook of your knee, hand firmly wrapped to shift you up, almost completely on top of him. When both of you are comfortable and you start feeling the tendrils of sleep pull you deeper, he gives a last, playful squeeze to your ass.
“Next time.”
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cohlumbo · 2 months
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We gonna have to call this in, Rust. Oh, we don't wanna do that.
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throwmethroughawindow · 3 months
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ace is a messy whiny pussy eater, you cannot tell me otherwise
begging and whimpering for more, devouring you over and over until you’re crying bc you’re so overstimulated and he begs for “just one more baby, you taste so good”
kissing and licking your thigh as you ride out your last orgasm, your pussy squeezing his fingers as he praises you and thanks you; promising to do this for you every day of his life if you’d let him
UGH UGH UGH
Blame @terarria-sunflower FOR THESE HORNY ASS TJOUGHTS!!!!‼️‼️‼️
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ivysoul · 11 months
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me when i’m the first person to request a lil carlos fic from youuu 😁 here’s what i’m thinking.
carlos is a pussy eating god. literally would stay between your thighs for hours, and he has. reader starts feeling bad, feeling like she doesn’t give him the proper gratitude he deserves for taking care of her all the time. so she’s determined to give him the most toe curling, sheet gripping, life altering head imaginable, not letting up until she feels like he’s had enough.
tl/dr: reader gives carlos the head of his lifetime, practically overstimulating him ^^ (i hope this made sense.)
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𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 masterlists
pairings carlos oliveira x fem!reader
summary since the beginning of the relationship, carlos has spent majority of his time in between your thighs, bringing you to the stars. now it’s time to return the favour and increase it tenfold than what you were doing before.
warnings most sheet gripping oral i’ve ever written (m), praise, reader calls carlos good boy like once, overstim, two orgasms. nothin too crazy !! (carlos also calls the reader mama a lot don’t talk abt it i literally can’t stop.) not proof read don’t come for me.
notes me when you me when venus me when when when
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“What’s gotten into you?”
It was right of Carlos to be suspicious of you when you all but jumped on him the moment he walked in the door. Your hands ventured across his body, giving his large biceps a few firm squeezes before going to wrap around his neck. And the kisses were passionate (as always), but needy. So incredibly needy.
You were never this visibly antsy, you were always able to tone it down even if all you wanted was Carlos. But he was gone for almost two weeks and you found yourself missing his company and feeling incredibly lonely.
“What, a woman can’t miss her boyfriend now?”
Your fingers looped into the waistband of his pants, but not venturing too low. However Carlos, having spent too fucking long away from you, felt his body react before his brain could catch up. His t-shirt made him feel too hot and clammy and he needed to get it off. Preferably in the bedroom. With you.
“You’re acting like I was gone for such a long time, sweetheart,” even he didn’t believe the words entirely himself, because it was a long time. Any amount of time away from you is a long time to him.
You didn’t respond, figuring your actions would speak for themselves. So, you dragged him by his belt loops to the bedroom and took his clothes off for him one piece at a time.
Carlos smiled down at you but furrowed his eyebrows. “Y’know, I was gonna take a shower. I would assume that’d be more hygienic before we do this.”
You chuckled lightly. “You could roll around in cow shit and I would still wanna fuck you,” he stared at you. “Okay maybe that’s a bit of a stretch but you get the point. A bit of dirt never scared me.”
He rolled his eyes playfully as you pushed him onto the bed, crawling your way over to him. You sat hovered over his half hard cock, reattaching your lips to his and tugging roughly at his hair. The action caused for him to moan into your mouth and squeeze his arms around your body tightly.
Your gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. “Missed you so much, baby,” you pulled away to say, a bit breathless.
“I missed you, too, honey,” he smiled at you lovingly. He’ll never get tired of looking at you. “Want me to make you feel good?”
You almost nodded, too into the routine of him coming back and finding home in between your thighs. But instead, you shook your head, biting your bottom lip in an attempt to hold back a grin from looking at his confused expression.
“Why not?”
“‘Cause it’s your turn.”
Those words alone caused his cock to reach a full erection.
You didn’t give him head often, he always insisted on the fact that your pleasure came before his. Plus, in his eyes, if he got to have sex with you, it was enough. He got most of his pleasure from giving you yours, and he didn’t have a problem with that one bit. But you did, for the most part.
So when you did suck him off, you made sure it always topped the last occasion. This time was no different.
You started placing kisses on his neck, making your way down to his collarbones, leaving little lovebites on his skin. It looked like a trail going from his collarbones to behind his ear and it made you giggle, which in turn made Carlos giggle.
Though his laughing stopped when your brushed your thumb across the tip of his cock. The laugh trailed off into a whine, and it made you smirk.
Your lips are at his v-line now and your free hand is tangling in his happy trail. Your kisses are sloppy and wet, and when you lean back to look at his cock, you audibly moan at the sight.
The tip was an angry red colour and leaking pre-cum. And god, you didn’t even know he could get this hard. “So pretty, baby. Your cock is so, so pretty.”
Carlos didn’t expect you to take his entire length down your throat in one go, but here you were. You gagged when he hit the back of your throat, tears immediately accumulating in your eyes, but you kept going when Carlos let out a throaty moan. The sound made your clit throb.
“Holy fuck,” his voice was strained. You freed his cock from your mouth and trailed your tongue up a prominent vein, circling around his tip when you made it to the end of the vein. You pumped his cock with your hand, relishing in the way he was so needy for your touch.
Then, you ducked up head down and took one of his balls into your mouth, sucking and kissing at it as he groaned. His fingers laced through your hair, trying his best to keep it at light tugs, but he found it harder and harder as time went on. “Shit, mama. So fuckin’ good at this.”
You squeezed around his tip and hummed in appreciation, which of course, only made him whine. Moving to his cock once again, you took him into your warm mouth, hollowing out your cheeks and bobbing your head up and down agonizingly slow.
Carlos tried—he really did—to keep his self control, but every ounce of it was lost to you. His hips suddenly bucked up into your mouth and made you gag, not that either of you were complaining whatsoever.
You sped up your pace now, leaving Carlos a moaning and whining mess. Moans of your name repeatedly leaving his lips. He looked so pretty like this. Hair disheveled, lips swollen and wet from the previous kissing and him biting down on them. The pleasure he was feeling in this moment was intense. He hasn’t felt like this in a while. His head was spinning and his abs were tense. He felt like a fucking teenager with how badly he needed you.
“Mama—‘M so close. Fuck, fuck,” his fingers tangled in your hair and tugged harder than he meant to, but it caused for you to moan around his cock, which sent vibrations of pleasure directly through it. “Uhng! Sh-hit…”
You moved one of your hands from his thigh to his balls and cupped them, groping them firmly, just how you know he likes it. So it was no surprise when he felt his orgasm approach way too quickly for his liking.
You lifted your mouth from him, a thick string of saliva connecting you to his tip. With a hand moving up and down his cock in fast motions and the other on his balls, you looked up to him through your lashes, wet with tears. “Y’gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna cum down my throat?”
“Fuck yes, mama. Gonna fuckin’ cum. Needa cum so bad. Please,” you always loved it when he begged. So how on earth could you possibly tell him no?
And he came when you resumed your actions. He released a noise that sounded like a mix of a moan and groan as he came down your throat, shooting hot, white ropes of cum. You swallowed every bit that he gave you without once lifting your head. And then continued.
If he was gonna spend hours on end with his mouth on you, you were gonna spend some time with your mouth on him. Despite his overstimulated state and his whines for you to lay off.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, shit!”
His sounds were like music to your ears that wanted to bottle up and keep to yourself. Unlike his usual deeper voice, his voice now was higher pitched. You loved it when he got like this.
The pain mixed with the pleasure made him see literal stars. His chest was heaving and his ears were ringing, but god did he love it. “M-Mama—oh f-fuck! Can’t. Can’t.”
You squeezed his thigh assuringly, letting him know that he could get through this. Besides, you weren’t sure you quite payed back the favour yet. You could tell he was getting close again, by the way his hands were getting more and more restless and the way his cock twitched in your mouth.
And then he was cumming inside your mouth a second time. Unlike last time, you lifted off of him to swallow, deciding to give your throat a small break before you went at it again. You could definitely see why he loved to eat you out for so long.
You beamed at him, smiling sweetly and rubbing his thighs soothingly. “You did so good f’r me, my love. Such a good boy, yeah?” Your voice was hoarse and your throat burned a bit, but quite frankly, you didn’t care one bit.
He looked down at you with low lidded eyes and smiled weakly. “Yeah. ‘M good f’r you, mama. Love you so much.”
“I love you too, hon,” you manoeuvred your way up to straddle his hips again and kissed him deeply, and he moaned at the taste of himself on your tongue. “But I’m not done with you yet.”
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newportangels · 5 months
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George In Yellow Submarine is so fine and I'm sick of pretending he's not.
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sirguyofdykesborn · 9 months
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im having. fun. my guys name is mice because hes a distant cousin of my teso turned original purple guy named rat
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keegansshark · 1 month
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birthday girl cherry here with a wee request about my favorite scot <33 i NEED a little something about birthday sex with soap. preferably nasty, feral fucking 🫣 totally up to you, but i would love it if the piece included face licking, squirting, and elements of a breeding kink :3
love you and your writing!! <333
cw: 18+, minors dni, fem!reader, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, squirting, dirty talk, spit, face licking, breeding kink, creampie, porn with plot, johnny is very horny (this is a warning in itself)
summary: birthday sex and johnny's a freak
word count: 2.8k
a/n: happy birthday sweet girl <3 love you so much
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“I really don’t kno’ why ye dressed up so nicely anyways.”
“Huh?” You nearly choke on the bite of food in your mouth, staring at Johnny incredulously from across the table. “Of course I’d dress up, it’s my birthday dinner.”
“Ah know it is. You look like an angel. And now I’ll have tae tear that pretty little dress off of ye so I can ruin ye.” Johnny sighs, completely nonchalant as your mouth drops open at the bluntness of his words. 
“Johnny. We’re in public.” you hiss, feeling your face heat up as he flashes that classic MacTavish grin at you. You’re very much in public at a very expensive restaurant that he insisted on taking you to, but that doesn’t deter him from running his mouth. In fact, he might even see it as encouraging.
“And?” he counters, beaming brighter when your glare turns more into a warning. “Dinnae act like it’s a mystery on what we’re gonna do tonight.”
“You’re awful, Johnny.” you mutter, downing the last of your water as you lean back in your chair. “Can’t spend one evening without you thinking with the wrong head.”
He hums contently, pleased at the way he riled you up. That was his plan all along. It’s working. “Never did tell me what ye wanted for yer birthday.” He’s quick to switch the subject, knowing it’ll get you even more flustered.
“What I want is for you to have some manners.” The waiter swings by the table to drop off the bill and you thank whoever is watching out for you that Johnny knows enough to keep his mouth closed for just a few moments.
“You wound me, sweetheart.” He mockingly clutches his chest, chuckling when you kick him under the table. “Not my fault that looking at ye makes me think such dirty thoughts all the time.” 
He tilts his head, clearly weighing the consequences of whatever he’s going to say next.
“It’s also not my fault you look so gorgeous I cannae help but imagine all the ways I’m gonna fuck ye.”
You swallow roughly as he tosses a few bills onto the table, quickly standing up to wrap his arm around your shoulders and direct you out of the restaurant.
He leans in while you make the walk to his car, nipping at the shell of your ear and making you gasp. “And if you keep looking like that, I’ll simply have to take ye right in the backseat, bonnie.”
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You don’t even make it past the living room. You’re lucky you make it past the front door.
Johnny unceremoniously shoves you onto the couch the second both of you step inside your house, hiking your dress over your stomach and gripping the delicate lace of your panties to fully tear it off of you.
“Och, dinnae act like ye aren’t aware I’ve already bought a couple new pairs for ye.” he scoffs when he’s met with your unimpressed glare. “Besides, I think ye look better this way. Don’t need anything covering up what’s mine.”
Any argument you have against that dies the second he grabs onto your thighs, the rough calluses of his fingers digging into your soft skin as he lifts one leg over his shoulder to bury his head right into your pussy. 
“Yer lucky it’s yer birthday,” he huffs, nose bumping against your clit as he practically drools in between your thighs, his saliva mixing with the slickness you can feel is already coating your cunt. “The way you looked back there, if only ye could’ve seen how hard I was. Wanted tae, fuck, wanted tae pull you right into that restroom, bend you over the sink and fuck ye stupid. Only thing stopping me was wanting to be polite on yer special day.”
“You’re an absolute freak, y’know that Johnny?” you laugh breathlessly before it dissolves into a moan, your hand threading through his mohawk as he presses his lips against your clit and latches on, a few simple sucks making your hips jerk involuntarily.
“I can be worse. So much worse.” He has been worse. Will definitely continue to be worse too, but he’s feeling generous today. It’s evident through the way he noisily laps at your cunt, acting like a man starved as he uses his thumbs to spread your folds and flatten his tongue against them.
“Good thing we didnae have cake yet,” he groans against your pussy, his tongue quickly collecting all the slick of your arousal before he lowers it to press inside your entrance, curling it a few times before lifting his head again. “Got the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted in yer pussy right here.”
He stares up at you with those delicate baby blue eyes of his, letting out a moan of his own as your fingers in his hair form a fist and you tug him back up to your clit.  “If only ye could see yourself right now. So beautiful when yer getting yer pussy ate.”
You whimper, grinding against his face as he alternates between suckling and nipping at your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you as you feel yourself rapidly approaching the first orgasm of the night.
“You’re close, aye? Can feel you clenching on my fingers, so fuckin’ greedy.” He leans directly over your clit, opening his mouth as a fat load of spit covers over the swollen bud and his thumb rubs against it to make a sticky mess out of your pussy.  “It’s yer goddamn right to be greedy, especially today. I’m gonna need ye tae cum for me, sweet girl, need to kno’ I’m making ye feel good.”
The filth coming out of his mouth coupled with the way his fingers are thrusting inside of you perfectly are what sends you over the edge, crying out sharply as your fluids drench his face, leaving your thighs trembling against his head as he eagerly uses his tongue to clean up all of your cum left on your pussy.
“Gonna make ye do that again. Makes me lose my fuckin’ mind when you squirt on me like that.” he sighs, leaning back as he wipes the slick glistening on his chin and licks his fingers clean. You immediately prop yourself up to reach for his belt, letting out a low whine when he gently moves your hands away.
“Quit yer fretting, you’ll get my cock. Just not here. Need tae fuck ye proper, cannae do it on a couch. C’mon, love.” Johnny swiftly hooks his arm around your waist to toss you over his shoulder, rolling his eyes and landing a soft smack to your ass when you squirm in his grasp. “Dinnae give me that, I’ll manhandle you any day of the year. Nothing you can do about it.”
You bite back the ‘yes sir’ on the tip of your tongue, not wanting to boost his ego even more as he carries you to your room. “I’m more than capable of walking up some stairs, Johnny.” 
“Won’t be doing any walking once I’m done with ye.” he retorts, kicking open the bedroom door and dropping you onto the bed. “Won’t be doing much of anything if I can help it. If I haven’t fucked ye till yer legs are shaking and yer heads empty then I didnae do my job correctly.”
“Is that a promise?” you ask softly as Johnny moves to unzip your dress, your hands working in tandem to unbutton his shirt, the collar of which is now completely soaked with your juices. 
“It’s a given,” is his short response as he tugs your dress off of you, tossing it to the floor as you finally lose your patience and rip the rest of his buttons open. You let him shrug his shirt off to join your dress on the floor before staring down at the bulge evident in his dress pants.
“Christ, baby,” you mumble, fingers moving swiftly to undo his belt and shove his pants down to his thighs. There’s already a wet patch against his boxers, and you appreciate it as long as you can before you’re pushing them down as well to watch his erection spring up against his stomach. 
His dick is mouthwatering, if you’re being completely honest with yourself. A fat pearl of pre-cum already leaking from his tip, dripping against his abdomen. It must be throbbing, aching at being neglected for so long. 
“I did all that?” you breathe out, wrapping your fingers around the length of his cock to pump up and down slowly. “Just from eating me out?”
“Fuckin’ hell, you do this just from seeing you.” he inhales briskly, staring down at you jerking him off before he softly directs your hand away. “Cannae lie, eating that sweet pussy of yours definitely helped me too.”
He fully tugs down his pants and boxers, kicking them off towards the pile of clothes as he crawls up towards you. 
His mouth is on yours immediately, his middle and ring fingers finding their way back to your pussy and quickly sinking into you. Johnny uses his other hand to guide your head back onto your pillow, allowing his body weight to press you into the mattress as you moan against his mouth. He kisses you sloppily as his lips slot between yours to push his tongue into your mouth and swirl it over yours.
“So pretty, so fuckin’ pretty, baby. My pretty girl.” he croons, his lips trailing down to your neck, practically panting as his tongue laps at your pulse point. “Ye drive me crazy. Every time I fuck ye I’m thinking about when I get to make you cum again. Yer always on my mind, I swear tae you.”
His words being both simultaneously dirty and praising make your head spin, and at first it barely registers that his mouth is moving from your neck.  “Johnny, fuck…” you groan, nose scrunching as he drags his tongue across your cheek and leaves a trail of spit in it’s path. “You’re no better than a dog.”
“Can bark if ye want.” he grunts in response, not giving you any warning before spitting against your lips and smearing it around with the tip of his tongue. “Sorry, baby, need my mouth on you. Look so fuckin’ good under me.”
You’d let him do anything to you if he keeps fucking you like this, even if it’s just his fingers for now, and you have to admit that his tongue feels as good against your face as it does against your pussy. His hand that isn’t currently filling out your cunt moves to your shoulder, pinning you down as he licks all over your face, making your skin coated with his saliva.
Johnny pumps his fingers inside you a few more times, the squelching audible before he slowly pulls them out of you. You whimper at the sudden emptiness before throwing your head back against the pillow at the feeling of his cock grinding against your folds, the sensation making your pussy flutter around nothing. 
“Please… please, Johnny.” you cry out, rocking your hips back and forth desperately in an attempt to get any friction possible.
“Please what, sweetheart?” he murmurs as he grips his cock, tapping the head against your clit and slathering your slick all over it. “Birthday girl still has to use her words.” 
“Please fuck me already.” you whine, your nails digging into his biceps as you spread your legs wider around his hips. “Need you to fuck me, please.”
“Never get tired of hearing that.” He drags his cock against your pussy a few more times to gather up as much wetness as he can before finally pressing himself into you. You feel your cunt stretching around his girth to accommodate him, his tongue and his fingers having prepped you well but never enough for how thick he is.
His thrusts start slow and gentle, but Johnny isn’t a patient man, nor does he feel like holding himself back tonight. He lifts his leg up to reposition himself, before completely pounding his cock into you. It’s almost animalistic the way he loses himself in you, making you cling to him as your thoughts are consumed solely by Johnny and the way he’s making you feel. You breathe heavily, forcing your eyes open as you stare up at him.
Johnny looks as ravished as you feel; mohawk tousled from your fingers running through it and damp from sweat, his pupils blown out you almost can’t see the blue behind them. The thick, rough pads of his fingers dig into the meat of your thighs as he fucks you without hesitation, pushing himself as deep as he’s able to he watches the way your cunt keeps sucking him back in.
You feel him everywhere, his cock spearing you open while one of his hands moves to grope your breast, rolling your nipple between the pad of his thumb and his pointer finger. Your mouth drops open in a silent moan and he uses the opportunity to spit directly into your mouth, feeling it coat your tongue as you make eye contact while you swallow.
That must’ve set something off in him, because you’re instantly rewarded with him fucking you so perfectly it makes you see stars. “Just like that, Johnny! Right there, right-”
He cuts you off as he grips your hips harder to angle himself deeper, the head of his cock hitting the spongy spot inside of you perfectly. “Yeah, yeah, I kno’. Right there. Acting like I don’t kno’ yer pussy inside an’ out, like I haven’t made this pretty pussy my fuckin’ home.”
He leans down, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Think ye forgot I practically molded yer cunt to my liking, bonnie.” he whispers, his hips smacking against your ass with another thrust as if to prove his point. “Believe me, pretty girl, there’s nothing about you I haven’t memorized yet. And that includes all the ways I get tae make ye cum.” 
His hand moves from your breast to your stomach, gently kneading your skin as he continues to pump into you. “Wanna cum inside ye. Figured out what tae get you as yer gift.” He meets your eyes as he rubs soft circles against your stomach, smirking as he feels you clench down on him. “Yeah? Wanna have my baby? I’ll make you a mama, don’t even have tae ask.”
You don’t have it in you to reply, your mind feeling fuzzy as you feel the pressure build up inside you again. “Johnny, I’m so close, so so close, I can’t…” you pant, your senses nearly overwhelmed from all the pleasure Johnny’s making you feel.
“I kno’, love. It’s a lot, aye? S’okay, you can be good for me and cum.” he coos, his hand going from your stomach to above your pussy, his thumbing working roughly against your clit.
You arch your back against the mattress with a mewl, his cock and his thumb on your clit working together to send you over the edge. He holds you steady as you squirt for the second time, your juices soaking over the dark curls trailing up his stomach and at the base of his cock. 
Johnny fucks you through your orgasm, his own following shortly behind yours. He dips his head to the crook of your neck, sighing out your name as his hips stutter and he finishes inside you, hot ropes of semen coating your pussy as his thrusts slowly slow down. He keeps his cock where it is, allowing his cum to be plugged up in your cunt.
He collapses on top of you, panting and trailing open mouthed kisses down to your collarbone. He wraps his arms around your waist, cuddling you tightly as he looks down at you with love in his eyes.
“So good to me. Happy birthday, my girl.” Johnny murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your temple as he cradles you against him, your chests rising and falling in unison. “Love you so much. You have a good time tonight?”
“I love you too.” you smile warmly, catching your breath as your lips meet his. “I’m having a great time, Johnny, all thanks to you.” You try to lift yourself up from under him, before feeling his grip against you tighten ever so slightly.
“Where do ye think yer going, bonnie?”
“Don’t you need to take a breather?” you ask quietly, your confusion evident as he shakes his head and guides you back down against the mattress.
“Dinnae think for a second that I’m done with you.” he grunts, pulling his cock out just enough for you to feel his cum run down your thighs and onto the bed sheets before he thrusts into you again.  “I’ll make this a birthday to remember.”
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memzyyy · 3 months
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bill def eats his gf out while she does her makeup and I thought abt this while I did my makeup 😭
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this fic seems so incomplete and i don’t know where to put my finger on it at all???
i don’t know how to write a person getting eaten out (you can tell i’m a virgin🙄)
I had taken some guidance with my mate ( @1sjsoul ) and this is what she said; “the way it’s running down my leg.”
edit: Proof since she didn’t believe anyone would believe me;
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NSFW DOWN BELOW
you had started doing your makeup 15
minutes ago, you had not even got the chance to finish putting your concealer on as you were too distracted by the feeling of Bill’s tongue lapping and swirling over your clit.
you had began to put your makeup brush down, accepting the fact you will not be able to finish your makeup while he’s eating you out like a starved man, just as you were about to put it down he had stopped you.
“finish your makeup, Darling.” he spoke, the glistening sight of your arousal around his lips as he licks it off his face, you picked your makeup brush up once again as he began to fuck his tongue into your sopping hole, making you whimper out. You began to grind your hips against his face, he doesn’t care how embarrassed you are, spreading you apart and suckling on where you most definitely needed him the most. Only the best for his girlfriend <3!!
“you taste so- mph.. fucking good.” he panted as he grips the flesh of your thighs before squeezing them, pulling you more onto his face. “Bill i’m gonna suffocate you if you keep pushing me into your face..” you moaned, he didn’t answer, he was too focused on your perfect pussy to make sense of what your saying, just listening to your moans and blocking everything else out of his ears.
You snaked your hand through his hair, instinctively tugging on it. He looks up at you as you cum on his tongue, he keeps suckling as he rides out your orgasm, swallowing your juices instantly. He removed himself from under you, gently pulling your face to his before kissing you, making you taste yourself on his tongue.
“good girl, you did so well for me.”
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casimania · 10 months
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Peter: *sprawled on a chair, grease on his sweatpants, missing a slipper and with a hole in a sock. He stops deepthroating a sandwich to clean his mouth on a sleeve of his bathrobe before noisily sucking all of his fingers clean*
Miguel and MJ, sitting across him, barely restrained lust: I desire this man carnally
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sharkgirldick · 4 months
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Chasers trying to talk their trans boyfriends into not getting top surgery, meanwhile I'm helping him get it as soon as possible because I want to lick his surgery scars.
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