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unnuevosoltransformalarealidad · 23 days

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You’ve Never What? (Dean Winchester)

Description: Y/N has never rode anyone’s face before and Dean is shocked.

Warning: Face Riding, Age Gap

Word Count: 1,531k

I sat at the table eating alongside Dean and Sam. I made us mac and cheese because we’ve been having take out all week and I wanted something different. The boys and I were pretty close, almost like a family but I certainly didn’t view them as family. They were both so hot but one of them caught my eye more than the other. Dean. He was older than me, sure but only 14 years. He was strong and muscular and oh my god his voice? I could get off to the sound of him talking. He was so hot and he knew it which was why he talked to the why he did. Anytime he saw a pretty woman he had to voice it and say what dirty things he wanted to do to her.

It made Sam and I roll my eyes but we were rolling them for different reasons. Sam was annoyed and didn’t wanna hear his brother talk about that stuff and I was annoyed he wasn’t talking about me. But why would he? He probably has zero interest in me. “Y/N are you okay?” I snapped out of it and looked at Sam. “Yeah sorry.” I said and went back to eating. “Man, I would love to be on the beach right now with some hot chicks.” Dean said. Sam and I look at him. “A hot girl sitting on your face. It’s the dream isn’t it?” I shrugged at him. “I don’t know, I've never done it.” I said.

Sam looked at me with his eyebrows raised and Dean’s jaw dropped. “You never what?” He asked in shock. I shrugged. “Being with you guys the past 5 years I haven’t really had time.” I say. “Before then?” He asked. I shook my head. “Well sweetheart if you want to just ask.” He said. It was my turn to be shocked and I squeaked out a “what?” Sam got up with his bowl and walked to his room. I didn’t blame him. “If you ever want to experience it just ask.” My face was red. “Oh come on. I see how you look at me sweetheart. I’m not an idiot.” He says. I just stare at him too shocked and embarrassed to even process what is going on. “Dean, what if this ruins our friendship?” I asked after a few minutes. “I won’t let it.” He says. How could he be so sure? “You can’t know that it won’t.” I whisper. He gets up with his bowl. “The offer still stands.” He shrugs.

I sat in my room on my bed thinking about what he said, what he offered. It would be a dream but at what cost? I didn’t use to do anything and it would be awkward after. I had a pretty good relationship with him, I didn’t want that to be over because of hormones. I really liked Dean too. I didn’t just want us to do sexual stuff, I wanted something real with him. But the more I thought about it the more I realized what if this was my only opportunity to be with him in any way? If he thinks it won’t affect our relationship then maybe it won’t.

A knock at the door snapped me out of my thoughts again. I got up from my bed and opened the door revealing the man I was just thinking about. “Hey Sam bought some pie if you want some.” He suggested. “Yeah sure.” I say and walk out of my room. I followed him into the kitchen where the pie was. It looked and smelled delicious. “You want me to get you a slice?” He asked, grabbing a knife to cut the pie with. “Yes please.” I say. I sat at the table and watched as he cut two slices of the pie for us. He brought them over and sat down next to me. “Thank you.” I say and start eating the pie.

We ate in silence for a while but I was thinking too much about the conversation earlier. Dean seemed to notice. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” He said. I looked at him. He didn’t make me uncomfortable, just made my feelings worse. I shook my head. “No you didn’t but I think…I wanna take you up on your offer.” I say. “Are you sure?” He asked. I nodded. “Yes.” Before I could say or do anything he leaned over and kissed me. Catching me off guard. It took me a minute but I kissed back. Our lips moved together at the table and he pulled me closer. His arms wrapped around me pulling me into his lap. I straddled him as our lips didn’t stop. My hands run through his hair and his hands run up and down my back. Wherever Sam was I only hoped that he didn’t walk in on this. I pulled at his shirt wanting him to take it off. He pulled away from the kiss. “Not here. In my room.” He said against my lips.

I nodded and got off him. He took my hand and dragged me to his room. He closed the door and took off his shirt revealing his beautiful body to me. “Take off your clothes, sweetheart.” He told me. I took off my big shirt revealing my matching bra and panties to him. I looked at him as he walked up to me. “Wow. You’re so beautiful.” He says and cups my face. I stare at him and look at his lips as he leans down and kisses me. This was a different kiss than the one we had in the kitchen. This one was more passionate and slow and not so lustful. I wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned up to deepen the kiss. “Jump.” He mumbled into the kiss. He caught me and I wrapped my legs around him. He turned us around and fell onto the bed with me on top. I pulled away to catch my breath. His eyes stared into mine and his hands ran up and down my thighs. “Take off your panties.” He tells me and I do, throwing them somewhere in his room. I straddled him once more and he tugs me up his body.

My nerves grew as I got closer and closer to his face. He smirked up at me and my breath got heavier. “It’s okay sweetheart.” He tells me in a soft voice. I nodded and he helped me to where I was hovering over his face. I looked down at him and I saw my juices drip onto him. I gasped in embarrassment and went to apologize. “No need. Your juices are going to be all over my face.” He winks. I let out a breath I was holding in and he lowered me onto his face. I gasp as I feel his hot breath tickle my area and his nose settle on my clit. “Fuck.” I gasped. His tongue began swirling my hole making me let out a little moan.

I didn’t have anything to grasp onto so I laced my fingers through his hair. His tongue entered me a little, making me moan louder than I wanted to. His hands that were gripping my hips started moving me. My clit was dragging on his nose and his tongue was moving in and out of me. My moans grew as I let myself ride his face. Though his tongue couldn’t go super deep into me but it still felt good. His nose was perfect for riding and I took a mental note of that. With my clit constantly bumping into it my high was very close. I moan his name over and over like I was praying to the man below me.

He hummed against me making vibrations course through me. “Dean fuck i’m really really close.” I whimpered. He sped up his movements and within seconds I came all over his tongue and nose. My hips stuttered on his face as I rode my high. Once I became over sensitive I pushed myself off his face with shaky legs. He helped me stay up as he smirked at me. I gasped seeing his face covered in my orgasm. He licked his lips and hummed. “Are you okay?” He asked me. I nodded and chuckled. “Yeah definitely.” He helps me off him and I collapse next to him. “I’m glad you enjoyed that.” He winked.

I laughed and looked up at the ceiling. “That really was amazing.” I whispered. “You can have my tongue and nose anytime you want.” He tells me. I looked over at him and he was already looking at me. “I know that I talk about women a lot and I know you and Sam hate it but I really like you and I want something more than just this.” He motioned to what we just did. I was shocked that he returned my feelings. “I like you too Dean. And yeah I was hoping that this wouldn’t have been a one time thing either.” I say. He smiles and leans in and kisses me.

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unnuevosoltransformalarealidad · 24 days

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Thinking about riding Bucky's thigh.

You hide your face in the crook of his neck with a whine when he praises you. Tells you how pretty you are as he guides your hips with one hand, the other caressing your body with such care. How proud he is that you're taking what you need and letting him give it to you.

"Doing so well for me. That feel good? You wanna come? So pretty when you come. Let me see it. Let me feel it."

His deep voice is so gentle that it makes your eyes sting with unshed tears.

So you praise him, too, when you ride his thick thigh faster. How you're wet and needy because of him. How his touch makes you feel both weak and alive. And how lucky you are to have his love.

It's enough to push him over the edge with you.

That's all, lovelies. Go about your business. ❤️

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unnuevosoltransformalarealidad · 26 days

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unearth [no outbreak!joel miller x virgin f!reader]

summary: When your normally strict parents go out of town for two weeks and leave you on your own for the first time with little warning, you're left reeling and afraid of being on your own for so long. Luckily, Joel Miller, your father's best friend, very generously offers to let you stay with him. Your long time crush on him shouldn't be a problem at all. ratings/warnings: E [smut, yearning, Joel is a little manipulative, loss of virginity, dad's best friend, nice big age gap (reader is 21, Joel is 40), liberal use of baby girl, religious trauma of the Christian variety (no denomination noted), reader wears a sundress, shaming of sexuality, bad relationship with reader's parents, insecurity, flirting, trouble orgasming, pussy pronouns (she/her), humping/grinding, masturbation, unprotected PIV, oral sex, references to early 00s media, soft Joel, i think that's it] wc: 6.1k a/n: please go to @ezrasbirdie-updates to be notified of updates! so i've had this idea for like a really long time but i thought maybe everyone had already done all this so i let it rot in the docs, and then i just suddenly felt the need to finish it. so happy birthday, pedro, i hope you never read this. for all the girlies (gn) with some leftover issues related to sex and purity culture, this is for us<3 special shout out to @mothandpidgeon for the feedback and to her, @swiftispunk, @haylzcyon, and @joeloverture for listening to me yap about this specific fic for months now.

masterlist | joel miller masterlist

It’s summer again.

Everything is sticky and hot and you’re out of class for another month and a half until your senior year in college starts. Finally—finally you’ll graduate and get out from underneath the thumb of two strict religious parents and live your own life.

You hope, anyway.

For the first time in your life, at twenty-one years old, they’re on a vacation without you. Really, it’s less a vacation and more of a marriage retreat—something to revive or restore or renew whatever good Christian couples do after twenty-five years of marriage. You’d only been half paying attention when your mother sprang this bit of news on you at their anniversary party, too focused on the idea of being home alone for two whole weeks starting Monday morning.

You’ve never been home alone for more than a night at most. The dark is scary enough with other people around. A day might be doable, but two weeks? All alone?

It’s not like you have anywhere to go, either. Your friends from school all live scattered around the country, and anyone you’d had a relationship with as a teenager isn’t the kind of person you want anything to do with now.

Typical of them, really, throwing you in the deep end and expecting you to figure it out when it’s finally convenient for them that you learn how to swim. They’d done the same thing when it came to driving, too.

“You’re an adult,” your father had said, after spending the last three years making sure you understood that he’s in charge and you are not an adult. “Figure it out.”

To your surprise, it was Mr. Miller to the rescue. Mr. Miller, your father’s best friend—one of those blue collar working man types that always has a little dirt under his nails. Mr. Miller and his t-shirts that hug the fullest part of his bicep and his big bear hugs that last a little longer lately. Mr. Miller who’s always made you trip over your sentences with his sweet brown eyes and big smiles.

He doesn’t like it when you call him Mr. Miller, but your parents are insistent about it. He’s never made his own daughter address them by their last names, something that’s always brought you great joy to observe. They’re obsessed with propriety, but not enough to confront someone else about it.

And you know why. It’s not about respecting one’s elders—they just want to control things. Mr. Miller—Joel—is not one so easily controlled.

You don’t really understand his friendship with your father, but you suppose it’s not your business to understand. You're not quite sure what close male friendships are supposed to look like, after all. Joel might not know a thing about your father.

When he offers you his home for the next two weeks, you don’t even think of declining, not even in the polite way your mother taught you. Decline once, and then accept. It makes no sense to you, but it’s “manners.” You don’t care about manners right now.

“Are you excited to have the place all to yourself?” He’d asked after your mom told you. Joel, apparently, knew about it all before you did. You shook your head.

“Not really. I’m a little scared of staying on my own for so long. I’ve never…I mean, they’ve never…”

He’d just nodded and you’d quickly grown embarrassed, wishing you’d just lied. His daughter was younger than you, off enjoying life on her own at UT so much that she’d found housing near the campus and stayed there, and here you are, worried about the dark.

Humiliating.

But then he’d bumped your shoulder with his and asked, “Why don’t you come stay with me for a couple weeks, sweetheart? I’m not around all that much when I’m workin’ a job, you’ll have all the privacy you need.”

“Really?” You asked. “I mean, my parents, I don’t know if they’ll—but yes! I’d really like that.”

You’d tried to keep your cool, tried not to act too eager, but it was useless. You’d been to his house before, but never alone with him. Not that you thought anything would happen, of course. He was just being kind to you, like he always has been.

He just wanted to make you feel safe.

It only takes you a few days to adjust. He leaves early in the morning and comes home late covered in sweat and dirt and sawdust. He meant what he’d said; you really do have all the privacy you need. You wish he’d give you less. Some nights, he sits with you in the living room and scarfs down whatever little meal you’ve made for him. Never anything fancy, just canned ravioli or a frozen pizza, but he looks so grateful every time you wonder how long it’s been since anyone did anything for him.

You might do just about anything for him.

A week into your stay, the heat is relentless—eighty nine degrees at nine o’clock, and even with the air running you can’t stand more than a tank top and a pair of flimsy shorts. You don’t think too much about your attire—it’s July in Texas, after all.

You’re in the living room watching American Idol when Joel gets home. He grimaces at the TV on the way to the kitchen.

“You like that show?” He asks a moment later, leaning against the doorframe with a beer in his hand. His dark hair is curled with sweat, and his jeans are even tighter than usual. How does he get any work done in those things?

“Just the auditions,” you say, shrugging. “Those have to be staged, right?”

He gives a noncommittal nod, coming to a halt in front of the couch. His eyes drag over your bare legs and up to your low cut top. “You warm, sweetheart?” He asks.

“A little,” you admit, suddenly very conscious of the way he’s looking at you. “It’s no big deal.”

He sits next to you, spreading his legs in that domineering way men do so that his jean-clad thigh presses against your leg. “Bet you’d do good on this,” he says, nodding toward the TV. “Pretty girl like you.”

“I can’t even sing,” you point out.

“Don’t matter,” he laughs. “With that face? That body? Shit.”

You bite your lip and let out a nervous giggle, too flustered at the idea of him looking at your body at all to answer. You like it, though—it sends a rush of arousal through you, and you cross your legs, hoping it disguises the way you squeeze your thighs together.

“Ah, shit,” he says softly. “I’m sorry, honey. That make you uncomfortable? I’m not tryin’ to be disrespectful.”

“No!” You quickly dismiss his worries. The last thing you need is him thinking you’re some little girl who can’t take a compliment. “Thank you, Joel. You’re very sweet.”

He brushes his knuckle over your bare shoulder and smiles. “You, too, sweetheart.”

Goosebumps flare over the skin he touches, but he doesn’t remark on it. Twenty minutes later, he’s somehow even closer to you, pressed right up against your side. He smells like outside, like he needs a long shower, but all that does is make you want him even more.

He gets up eventually, knees popping with a soft groan, and stretches. “All right, sweetheart, I’m gonna head on to bed. Can barely keep my eyes open.”

You stand, too, not ready to part with him just yet, but lacking any reason to keep him around. Instead, you reach past him for the remote and turn the TV off, pretending like you’re tired, too. You couldn’t be more awake.

Before you can even try to make yourself leave, Joel slides his fingers underneath the thin strap of your tank top. “This is a pretty thing,” he says. “You usually wear this around the house?”

You swallow. “Am I not supposed to?”

“‘Course you can,” he says, smiling at you and pulling his hand back. “Just can’t imagine your dad letting you walk around in something like this.”

“Well, I’m not a kid,” you say, slightly indignant. “It’s hot, so I’m wearing it. And I wear it at home, too.”

You’re lying.

“Attagirl. Just want you to be comfortable here, sweetheart.” Joel grins and squeezes your arm. You want him to squeeze everything on you like that.

That night you toss and turn, trying to stop the burning need in your belly. You cup your mound, too scared to try to give yourself any real relief, but you need something. Eventually, you fall into a restless, fitful sleep, haunted by vivid and dirty dreams starring Joel Miller.

The next morning you wake with an angry, insistent throb between your legs. The house is quiet—Joel must have left for the day already—and you know, without a doubt, you need to do something about the wet, sticky arousal between your legs.

It hits you that you finally can do something about it without fear of someone barging in, too. Your hand trails down your stomach, reaching into your panties, and you let out a long sigh of relief as you reach your hard, swollen clit.

It’s not so easy, though.

You rarely get a chance to do this, and you can count the number of successful orgasms you’ve had on one hand. It’s always so much work, and today is no exception, no matter how riled up you are.

You try every way you can think of—on your back, on your tummy, standing, sitting, laying down, fingers in, fingers out. Nothing works. You need something more.

And then, of course, there is the all-consuming guilt that eats at you, always. Even though you’re alone, even if he’s at work, you’ve been defiling yourself in the house he’s so graciously offered to you, and you can’t stop from thinking of him, touching yourself for hours until your fingers cramp and shoulders ache and you still can’t get there. Tears gather in the corner of your eyes.

You need this so much.

It’s been months now, maybe over a year since you’d come. Consciously, anyway. Sometimes you wake up after a particularly erotic dream soaked and twitching and furious. It’s not fair. Why not when you’re awake, too?

But you know that answer deep down. It’d been beaten into your head for years and years: no sex until marriage and no violating your body. It’s disgusting, only dirty girls do that, and you’re not a dirty girl. You were a good girl. You went to church, you did your chores, you babysat your neighbors’ kids for free, you did volunteer work.

You were a good girl.

Dirty girls have sex; they let men touch them in ways only husbands should. Dirty girls drink and smoke and won’t make it into heaven.

You’d been determined to make it into heaven, once. Now, you don’t care so much about some heavenly kingdom. You’re more interested in getting off.

You sigh and peel your sweaty body off your sheets. Maybe a shower will take your mind off all of this. A shower and a book in the living room, somewhere public enough to keep your hands off of your pussy.

The couch is overstuffed and suede, comfortable and squishy enough to take a nap on without waking up with a crick in your neck. You lay down and pull a book from your bag, intending on finishing all the assigned reading for your Women’s Fiction class before the semester begins.

Most of the books you’ve read for school, even the novels and short stories have been dry, dense classics—the perfect distraction. It might even put you to sleep.

After a while, though, you think you might be in trouble.

A description of a man’s hands has your whole body trembling. Joel has nice hands—large and veiny with a rough palm and calloused fingertips from years of working with wood and nails and power tools you couldn’t name, but that was fine. Maybe he’d show you one day.

Closing your eyes, you lay the book on your chest and breathe, trying to regain some control. You’ve lost every bit of control you’d deluded yourself into believing you’d had as Joel’s hands invade your consciousness.

He could teach you a lot with those hands, you think. You bet he knows a lot about pleasing women. Maybe he could even teach you how to please yourself.

You imagine him directing you in that firm voice, praising you for listening so well. Telling you how proud he is of you. That you’ve done such a good job, you’re such a good, sweet girl.

You hike up the little sundress you’d put on after your shower, trailing your fingers up and down your torso and focusing on how soft your skin is. They hit the book spine and a thought crosses your desperate, needy mind.

Maybe you need something firm.

Maybe your fingers are too soft, your touch too light, your pillows too squishy.

Jesus Christ, you’re possessed, contemplating nestling a book between your legs. You open one eye, peeking around for something to distract you from this, anything at all, but there’s nothing. It’s just you and your dirty mind.

You need to get out of the house.

But as you stand, holding the couch arm for balance, something clicks. Cushioned but firm. Not too wide, not too tall. Your pulse quickens, eyes darting around the room as if expecting someone to pop out, but it’s just you, and this might be exactly what you need.

Despite your solitude, you tiptoe up to your room to grab a used towel from the laundry basket, not wanting to get any of yourself on Joel’s nice, clean couch. You still have a few more hours till he’s home.

God, you really hope it doesn’t take that long.

You spread the towel over the arm and hastily remove your panties, so eager the left leg hole is looped around your ankle that dangles off the edge. There’s really no graceful way to do this, and you try not to think about how ridiculous you might look as you press your swollen pussy into the arm.

It’s…good.

Shit, it’s perfect; just enough pressure to make your legs tremble. You rock back and forth, feeling yourself getting wetter and wetter, slick pouring out of you as you try new angles and rhythms.

How had you never tried this before? You let out a soft moan, far too shy to be any louder than that, but it echoes through the room and the sound of your own pleasure spurs you on.

At first you don’t think of anything other than this feeling, that you want to feel like this always, like it’s some drug you’ve just discovered. But then you see brown eyes and dark hair with threads of gray, that divot in his lower lip as you imagine him taking what he wants, looming over you as he tells you, “Ain’t free to stay here, darlin’.” What else could you do but enjoy it? He’s too big and strong.

Your hips move faster, clit pressing into the surface below you, calves aching with effort. You can see him underneath you now, holding your thighs as you ride him. It always looks like so much work on the videos you’ve seen, but maybe if it feels anything like this it’d be worth it. You’re getting close to something now, arousal sticking to the insides of your thighs as you bite your lips to keep from crying out. You’re almost there, that coil in your belly tightening and tightening, oh, God—

Sunshine pours through the front door and your eyes fly open, suddenly face to face with Joel.

With Joel.

No, no, no.

You freeze and he stops short, eyebrows shooting into his hairline as he takes in the scene in front of him. There’s no way to make this look like anything other than what it is, especially not with your panties dangling pathetically around your ankle.

Common sense and burning shame tell you to cover yourself, run away, grab your bags and leave and hope he never ever ever looks at you ever again.

Fear, though, does something else entirely. Fear makes your body freeze, makes your eyes well up with horrified tears, waiting for some awful reprimand as you sputter out some pathetic excuse.

Dirty, bad, disgusting girl.

“I-I-“

The words stick in the back of your throat—there’s nothing that will make this situation any better. He’ll know you’re dirty, he’ll kick you out, he’ll tell your parents what an awful, disgusting—

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle, hoping it means something.

But he just shuts the door and kneels in front of you, cupping your burning face with his big hands. “Oh, no, no, nothin’ to be sorry about, baby girl. I shoulda told you I was comin’ home. You’re not in trouble, sweetheart, I’m not mad.”

You can hardly make sense of him as he gazes at you with those doleful brown eyes; all you know is that the panic has started to recede, replaced by a desperate, aching need.

“You’re not mad?” You ask, hot tears spilling over.

“Of course not,” he says, leaning in to press his forehead against yours and swiping his thumbs across your cheeks. “It’s only natural, baby. Feels good, huh?”

It fucking does, especially with this new feeling in your tummy and the smell of him invading your senses, woodchips and grass and some fading cologne.

“Mmhmm,” you sigh, not daring to move. “I just—I never—I’m never really alone for long enough to make myself—“

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “You can keep goin’ if you want, I don’t mind. Told you I wanted you to be comfortable here. With me.”

You start to rock your hips slowly, keening as he pulls your dress up and wraps his hands around your hips.

“Attagirl,” he murmurs. “I know that feels so good. You been needin’ this?”

“Yeah,” you gasp; you can barely get words out. “Needed—for a while.”

“That’s it, c’mon, it’s natural, baby. It’s so, so good for you.”

You whimper at his words, still too shy to make much noise, but it’s like he can read your mind. “You make all the fuckin’ noise you want, baby girl. It’ll make it better,” he promises.

“Joel,” you breathe, unthinking, focusing on what you think might be your first orgasm in ages. “Joel—“

“Let it happen, sweetheart. Let it happen. Don’t fight it. Look so pretty, baby girl, look so sexy. Good girl—“

That coil snaps, molten liquid gushing from you. You can hear noises coming from your mouth, but you can barely feel yourself making them. All the focus is on your wet, throbbing cunt.

Joel wraps his big arms around your shivering body when you come back down, kissing your forehead as he lays you on the couch. Your eyes feel heavy, body aching in a pleasant way.

“That feel better?” He asks softly, kneeling over you with one thigh between your legs. He could take what he wants now, you think idly. You’re all spread out and boneless, and if he pressed himself into you you’d have no defenses.

And you really, really want him to take it.

“Mm,” is all you can say with a dreamy smile on your face.

He reaches down between your legs and spreads your lips with two fingers. No one else has ever touched you there, and it makes you clench around nothing.

You’ve never had sex, but you understand you want him inside of you.

“Goddamn,” he says. “She’s a pretty little thing.”

Heat blossoms across your cheeks.

Joel watches your face as his middle finger slides down to your entrance, rubbing little circles around it and making you squirm. “Yeah?” He asks. “You want me to play with you more?” You swear something cracks in your neck at your vigorous nod and he grins. “You ain’t ever had anyone do this to you before, have you?”

“No,” you sigh, feeling your voice come back. You clear your throat. “I…you know how my parents are.”

He nods, frowning, and you fear the mention of them might have ruined the mood. But he’d asked, and you want him to know. To your relief, he doesn’t dwell on it.

“Are you sure, honey?” He asks.

“Do you…do you not want to?” You ask carefully, wondering if he’s trying to back out, if he’s trying to say he doesn’t want this responsibility.

“No, baby, I do. I really, really do,” he groans, still toying with your pussy. “Just want you to be sure. If it’s too fast—”

“I want it,” you say. Something desperate’s clawing at you, and you might explode if he doesn’t take it right now.

“Not doin’ this on the couch,” he says. “Gonna do this right.”

You almost tell him you don’t mind where he does it, just as long as he does it now, but he’s pulling you off the couch and leading you upstairs before you can say anything.

His room has been off limits until now—not as a rule, per se, but as a boundary you’d set. You suspect he wouldn’t have minded if he caught you in here poking around.

Joel pulls your dress over your head and unhooks your bra, humming as your breasts bounce out of their confinement. He admires your naked body, and you try not to tremble too much in front of him.

“You okay, sweetheart?” He asks, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“Fine,” you murmur. “Just…nervous. Some of the girls I know said it hurts.”

“Not if I do it right,” he says. “Might be a little pinch, but shouldn’t be a big deal. If it is, you tell me, okay, baby girl?”

He’s so sweet it makes you ache.

He pulls your nipple into his mouth and you arch into him, surprised and pleased at the new sensation.

Joel chuckles and presses a chaste kiss to your nose. “Here’s what I’m gonna do,” he says. “I’m gonna eat your pussy for a while, see if we can get you more relaxed, and then I’m gonna stretch you out on my fingers. And then I’m gonna fuck you. Gonna try to make your pretty little pussy come all over my cock, all right? That sound good?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “I—Can you kiss me?”

He smiles and noses your cheek, slotting his lips with yours. He slides his tongue across the seam of your lips, and you let him, following his lead as he licks into your mouth.

A new, shuddering wave of arousal makes you wetter and wetter, and Joel presses his fingers against your clit and rubs. And oh, fuck, it feels so much better than when you do it, his firm strokes sending shockwaves through your body. He pulls his fingers away and sucks on them, and you whine at the loss of attention.

“Shhh,” he murmurs. “Gonna take my time with you, remember? Wanted this for a long time, baby girl.”

“Really?” You ask.

“You think I hang around for your old man’s pleasant company?”

You giggle.

“Might not be able to let you go after this,” he says, kissing down your neck. “Might not want to.” He exhales a shaky breath. “Fuck, baby, can’t believe you’re lettin’ me do this.”

“Can I see you?” You ask, and he nods, shucking off his shirt and unbuckling his belt as quick as he can. You’ve never seen a naked man in real life, and he might have just ruined you for anyone else.

You don’t know where to look, eyes trailing from his broad shoulders to his firm biceps, down to his soft belly and narrow hips. Nestled in the middle under a thatch of dark curls is his hard, leaking cock, red and throbbing under your gaze. Your mouth waters, wondering what it tastes like, what it feels like in the palm of your hand.

You’ve read a million books with a million descriptions of thick, pulsing members, seen pictures in magazines and once, when you were feeling particularly brave, on the internet, but nothing prepared you for how much you’d crave it the moment it’s in front of you.

Maybe it’s not all of them—maybe it’s just his.

“Can I touch it?” You ask.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Yeah, yeah baby girl, you can touch it.”

It’s heavy, warm and smooth in your hand as you stroke him timidly. He moans softly, flashing an encouraging smile. “Can I taste it?” You ask, thumbing his leaking slit.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, nodding. You lick up the back of it before engulfing the head in your mouth, sucking softly and moaning at the salty taste of his precome.

“All right, sweetheart,” he chuckles, pulling you off. “This is about you, and you’re gonna make me come if you keep on with that.”

You want to make him come, though.

But you do as you're told, only pouting a little. He pulls your legs apart, throwing your legs over his shoulders to get as close to you as he can. He inhales and shudders, and you hope that’s a good thing.

“Fuck me,” he says. “Smell so good. Just needs some attention, hm? Look at her, she’s drippin', poor thing.” He seems to be talking directly to your pussy now, and it makes you a little lightheaded with desire. “Think she needs my tongue. Think she needs to come again, get her all ready for my cock.”

He licks you from entrance to clit, groaning the moment he gets his tongue on you. His noises rumble through you, and he presses his finger gently inside of you.

This is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. It’s all slick and wet, the flat of his tongue pushing against your swollen clit as his finger massages you open. He brushes something inside, something you’ve never felt yourself, and you cry out his name.

“There she is,” he murmurs. Your vision blurs, squeezing the sides of his head with your thighs. He keeps going, unrelenting, replacing his finger with his tongue as you buck against his face. “That’s right, baby, take it, take what you need.”

You can barely hear him, too lost in the sound of blood rushing in your ears as you snap again, gushing and gushing around his tongue. He works you through it, whispering praise as you tremble underneath him. It feels so good, it all feels so good—how had it taken so long to make it work?

Joel crawls up your body until he’s caging you with his arms, kissing you with all your slick on his lips. “Good girl,” he says. “Took what you needed, came so hard for me.”

You can barely speak, but you do have one request.

“Fuck me,” you beg, because you��ll die if he doesn’t. You need him, no matter much it might pinch or sting in the beginning, you need to be full of him. “Please, Joel, I’ve needed you for so long. I need you, I need you—”

He kisses your face, wiping away overwhelmed tears. “Okay, baby, shh. You’re okay, I got you, gonna make you feel good. You need me?” He asks. There is something soft and vulnerable in the question. You wrap your arms around his neck.

“Need you, Joel, always wanted it to be you,” you sigh against his lips. He cradles you close, holding you like you’re made of glass.

“You want me to get a condom?” He asks.

You shake your head urgently. “I’m on the pill.”

He only hesitates for a second before he coaxes your legs open and lifts your hips, shoving a pillow underneath until you’re exposed and spread out for him. You feel him notch the fat head of his cock against you and you snake your hand down to feel it, opening yourself even further for him.

It’s a stretch to be sure, but you’re so wet and relaxed he slides in with minimal resistance. Nothing burns, nothing stings, nothing even pinches—it just feels incredible. The noise he lets out is obscene, long and growling, with his eyes trained on where your bodies join. “Wish you could—fuckin—see this—” He says, shallow thrusts punctuating each word. “Your pussy’s so—fuckin’-perfect, baby girl.”

He’s rubbing against that spot again, the one that had you keening earlier, but you find the area to be even bigger with his thick cock brushing it back and forth.

Is this really the feeling you’d been shamed for your whole life? This euphoria, this overwhelming connection to someone you’ve cared about for so long? This was the bad, horrible sin that would damn you for eternity?

It doesn’t make any sense.

It feels so good tears you start crying again, overwhelmed with every tremor and tingle and shock of arousal. This can’t be wrong—it can’t be—and there’s so much freedom in this knowledge.

Above you, Joel’s eyes are closed in what you think is concentration, and you bring your hand to his jaw to stroke his beautiful face. He can’t know what he’s done for you, what he’s still doing for you, but you can at least make him try to understand. His eyes fly open at your touch, brows knitting in concern at your tears.

“Baby, do I need to stop? Does it hurt?” He asks, slowing his pace.

“No,” you gasp. “Keep going. I just—it feels so good, Joel. You’re making me feel so good, didn’t know it would feel so good.”

He readjusts your hips and hits you at a new angle. “My good, beautiful girl,” he moans. “Think you can come again, pretty girl? What do you need from me?”

“Faster,” you beg. You bring your fingers to your clit, still sensitive from earlier, and circle gently at first. And then it builds and builds, and he hits you deeper and deeper, until you feel it happening again. It’s smaller, weaker than the others, but that’s okay, too.

“That’s it,” he moans. “Attagirl, gettin’ so tight, you gonna come for me? Come on, baby, know you got one more—oh, fuck—”

He stops as you clench around him, crying his name again and pulling his lips to yours. Joel swallows all your cries, whispering soft praise as you clench and spasm around him. “Sweet little pussy just needed someone to treat her right, huh? Oh, you needed that so bad. I’m so fuckin’ proud of you, baby girl, gushin’ all over my cock.”

He starts to move again, chasing his own high and massaging your tits as he does. “Love these,” he murmurs. “Gonna come all over these one day.”

One day.

“Joel,” you whisper, looking into his eyes. “Please.”

He groans loudly and you feel him come with his face buried in your neck. “Fuck, baby girl,” he pants, collapsing on top of you as he finishes.

He pulls out of you, and there’s a soft ache in your chest at the disconnect. Will your heart always feel like a bruised peach afterward, or is it just because it’s your first time? Is it just because it’s him?

And there’s that whole thing—the fact that it’s him at all.

Your heart thuds dully against your ribs, all the dopamine and euphoria crashing into harsh reality. It’s not like anything can really happen between the two of you.

“What is it?” He asks, pulling you into his bare chest. “Why’re you thinkin’ so loud?”

He’s looking at you with soft eyes, tracing his finger down your nose and cupping your jaw. “Y’okay?”

Joel’s not usually so forward.

Well, that’s not entirely true. He’s not usually so forward with you.

He’s not the type to chase college tail, or be inappropriate with someone young enough to be his daughter. He’s not that guy, despite Tommy’s constant ribbing over Joel’s interest in you.

He doesn’t know when you went from girl to woman or when he finally noticed it. He just looked up one day and you were incredible enough to make him stick around despite his increasing impatience with your father.

He almost feels guilty when he invites you to stay. It’s not that he has any nefarious intentions—not really. Whatever happens, happens. He really does just want you to feel safe.

But then you make him little meals and walk around in your little shorts and it makes him insane, it makes him do things he shouldn’t even think about. It makes him touch you, tease you, flirt with you in ways he knows you don’t really understand.

And then he catches you.

He catches you in the middle of the day, desperate enough to grind your hot little pussy against the arm of his couch, and what else can he do when you look so pretty and small and scared but encourage you?

He wants you to feel all the pleasure you can, even if it means guiding you there himself. He can’t imagine being twenty one and all pent up, no outlet of relief for that little swollen cunt. How awful it must feel to walk around dripping wet and needy; he doesn’t want that for you. He wants you to feel safe and pleased and satiated, and if he’s the one to do it, then so goddamn be it. If it makes you happy, he doesn’t much care what people think.

Right now, though, you don’t look happy. Your brows are pinched in thought, head cocked in his direction but not quite meeting his eyes. He curls his index finger under your chin, pulling you gently to look straight at him. “What’s wrong, baby girl?”

You smile at the name and it warms him. “Just…nothing, really. Just don’t know what happens now. Like, with us. Or if this is it, or—”

“This ain’t it,” he says, more insistent than he intends. “I wouldn’t have done this if I didn’t mean to stick around.”

Your whole body melts, like he’s just taken a solid ton off your shoulders, and you lean into him. “Really?” You ask. “I understand if it’s too much or too weird, you know. I know guys don’t like it when girls get clingy, so I promise I won’t.”

His heart aches at how earnest you are.

“Don’t you worry a thing about that, sweetheart. I don’t scare so easy,” he murmurs, leaning in for a kiss and nosing your cheek.

“And you don’t think I did anything wrong?” You ask.

He frowns. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t think I’m dirty now?”

Joel can tell he needs to phrase his next sentence very, very carefully. “No, darlin’. You enjoyed yourself and there’s nothin’ wrong with that. No matter what you’ve been told, all right?”

You nod, not fully convinced, he thinks, but convinced enough. He pulls you in for another kiss—he could distract you from those thoughts, at least. You sigh against his lips, yielding easily to his tongue, and for a while he just kisses you.

He should’ve done this first; should’ve taken it slow and gotten you used to everything over a period of time, but he’s never claimed to be a selfless man. He lets you explore his mouth and massage his tongue with your own, patient and more than willing to help you figure out what feels good to you. He could do this all day, all week, all month—hell, if he knew Tommy wouldn’t come looking for him he’d just take the next week off and teach you everything you’d ever need to know.

You moan into his mouth and his cock twitches with interest, apparently recovered from earlier exertions. He grabs your thigh and pulls, urging you into his lap and smiling against your lips at the gasp you let out when you feel his cock nudging at you.

“Joel,” you murmur. “Joel, can we do it again?”

He cups the back of your neck and squeezes softly. “Of course, sweetheart. Need more already?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Is that okay?”

“‘Course it is, darlin’. How ‘bout we try somethin’ different this time?”

You nod vigorously as his hands slide down your body and squeeze your hips. “Yes, please. Please, Joel, teach me everything, I wanna know everything.”

Joel shudders underneath you.

“Say it again,” he growls, lining his cock up with your messy pussy and bottoming out.

“Teach me,” you gasp. “Please.”

a/n #2: if i had a nickel for every fic that had someone getting caught fucking a couch i'd only have two nickels but it's weird that it happened twice, right?

dividers by @saradika-graphics

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unnuevosoltransformalarealidad · 1 month

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Okay with the caveat that I have not personally verified this, but it does appear to be supported by google support threads and their abuse policy--

User sloan_spencer_author on instagram reports that another author they know had their Google docs access suspended for sharing explicit content.

I know that lots of y'all on f1blr use google docs, so I'd encourage you to back up your work locally (on your hard drive/an external drive). I don't know what a good alternative is--I've been using Proton Drive (since I already pay for a Proton email) and I don't see anything in the terms of service about prohibiting explicit content, so. Maybe that and Word or OfficeLibre? Man, I don't know. Our cyberpunk dystopia sucks.

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unnuevosoltransformalarealidad · 1 month

Note

🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a hoe drabble about:

Ari + pinned down + “Fuck, sweetheart, I love it when you whine so pretty for me.”

*incomprehensible screeching* ok ok calm down self no pressure 👀 lol but thank you Siri for this prompt! And all who read I hope you like what I came up with☺️!

Mine

✨Pairing✨: ex!Ari Levinsonxblack!reader

Summary🪄: As luck would have it, your ex is there to save you from a creep. Some coincidence right?

🚨: 18+ NO MINORS, soft/dark-dark elements, mention of sexual harassment, violence (man-man), unprotected adult happy funny times (please be safe everyone!), fingering, breeding kink, mention of alcohol, a couple bad language words

Your once pleasant buzz has since been replaced by a dull headache as you sit in the middle of your ex’s king sized bed. One of his shirts - smelling a mix of his cologne and detergent - covering your freshly washed body after the small bar brawl left the front of your top and skirt soaked with beer.

Every few minutes your mind wanders back to that moment where the “kind” and charming stranger showed his true colors. His touches becoming unwanted while trapping you against the bar and ignoring your protests. If it wasn’t for Ari, quickly yanking the hazel-eyed man away from you before his fist was soon meeting his cheek, you’re sure you’d be stuck somewhere and missing for God knows how long.

Maybe even worse.

A light knock on the door has a small smile curling on your lips seeing Ari in the doorway. His muscular body nearly taking up the entire space standing in his black sweats and some worn looking band tee.

“Hey, you feel alright?,” he asks and you nod. “Need anything?”

“No, just tired.”

“Get some rest. I’ll be out here if you need me.”

You didn’t want him out there though. In your current state - emotionally vulnerable and unable to get the events out of your mind - you wanted him next to you. To not be alone for tonight at least.

“C-Can you stay? Please?,” you call after him halting any further movement out of the doorway. With that tilted smile you still loved, he was soon removing his shirt and joining you under his sheets.

“Of course sweetheart.”

His thick arm wrapped around your middle with your back against his front, it was like old times how instantly safe and comfortable you felt. How you fit together so well, it was as if you’d never even broken up in the first place. And when his nose bumps behind your ear barely touching one of your special spots, that familiar flip returns to your stomach as well.

“Goodnight.”

“Night Ari,” you whisper, but you already know sleep is a far off concept from your highly active brain still focused on the bar. Trying to force you into reliving every detail as if helping you study for your own exam.

So many minutes pass of just feeling the air from Ari’s nostrils against your neck and hearing cars run by that you’ve accepted you probably won’t be sleeping tonight.

“That pretty head’s going a mile a minute again huh?,” he asks slightly startling you thinking he was asleep this whole time.

“You can tell?” He nods and you can feel the gentle scratching of his beard on your skin.

“Your pulse is a bit high; not to mention your body’s tense. Not as relaxed as I know you wanna be.”

He was always so intuitive with you. Knowing how you were feeling or if you were off without you having to even say a word. It was honestly scary sometimes how he was there with what you needed before it could cross your own mind.

“Why am I not surprised? Spot on as always,” you softly chuckle.

“Because I know you sweetheart,” he replies placing a chaste kiss to that sweet spot behind your ear. “Know all about this body. What goes on in your mind.”

His voice in your ear as his hand slowly drifts from under you and down your abdomen to the front of your thigh has you beginning to squirm. An ache quickly forming between your legs you want him to erase.

His fingertips trace a slow circle just centimeters from that junction as his lips create their own steady path down the column of your neck to your shoulder. It’s a tortuous buildup you wish he didn’t enjoy so much.

“Let’s get you to sleep, yea?”

“Please,” you shamefully beg anticipating his touch where you needed most.

And he doesn’t disappoint placing your leg over his so you were spread wide for him. His middle finger immediately dipping in your needy core and dragging just right you couldn’t stop the moan that tumbled from your lips.

“Still so tight after all this time. We can work around that though can’t we?”

By the time he was done - having readied you with two orgasms - you were already in a mindless haze only capable of babbling incoherent noises, “please”, and Ari’s name.

Exactly how he wanted you as he pushed your thighs up against your chest keeping them in place with his wide upper half while his hands pinned yours over your head. You were now completely at his use as he slowly began to push into you with a low groan and silent curses how you gripped him so tight.

“Ari please,” you whined. Head lulling to the side to lie on your arm. “Need you.”

“Fuck, sweetheart, I love when you whine so pretty for me,” he finishes with a gasp finally pushing to the hilt. For your sake, he tries to start slow, but the feel of you clinching around him and all the sweet noises you’re making, it doesn’t take long for that rhythm to quicken. The squeaking of the bed and the sound of skin slapping soon taking over your moans and panting.

“Mm don’t stop!”

He moans nipping at your bottom lip. “I’m the only one that can take care of you. Knows all your spots that make you dumb. Isn’t that right?”

Ari takes your whine as a yes, smirking as his mouth finds yours in a heated and numbing kiss.

“Because you’re mine sweetheart.” His pace quickens and you shriek as your release squirts to the sheets below. It only spurs him more moaning as he feels his own release approaching. “Always have been, shit, always will be.”

You want to whine and push him away with your new sensitivity and puffy folds that feel raw, but that blissed out cloud just keeps lifting you higher and higher that you don’t want to come down.

“And everyone’s gonna know it too seeing you with our little baby bump. Gonna be the best mama to our babies.” The thought of you carrying a mini version of the both of you pushes him over the edge moaning his release as you have one last one of your own feeling him fill you up with deep ruts wanting it to stick as deep as it could go.

Finally meeting that blissful high with you, a tired chuckle leaves his lips as he kisses all along your sweaty face. You’re pleasantly knocked out - mouth slightly parted - as he carefully lifts up so your legs can be stretched out again. Although soft, he doesn’t pull out; instead staying buried deep so none of him can escape.

Plus having you wrapped around him so snug, occasionally pulsing and clinching, it’s better than any blanket he could ever buy.

“Now, if only you weren’t so stubborn, I wouldn’t have had to go through all this,” he whispers before leaving one last peck on your temple.

HiredHelp: I said only one punch! (sent 12:29 am)

HiredHelp: That’s an extra 2K (sent 12:30 am)

HiredHelp: 5K in my account by tomorrow or we meet again very soon (sent 12:30 am)

So for those who’ve read my works over the years, this is definitely a bit of new territory for me (soft/dark-dark and smut) so hopefully it’s not cringe🫣. Thank you @stargazingfangirl18 for this prompt and for allowing me to play☺️! Also sorry if this is longer than a standard drabble lol

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unnuevosoltransformalarealidad · 1 month

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New In Town

Summary: Introducing Chapter One of my Sweet Renegades Series. Sparks fly when you accidentally find yourself sitting next to Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Mentions of Death and Grief, Mentions of Book Boyfriends, Allusions to Disordered Eating, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Major thanks to @curls-and-eyeliner for helping me plot out this chapter. This story is part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. Thanks for reading!

It was happening again. You could feel him doing it. You knew without turning your head that the bastard had gone back to staring.

At you.

Gritting your teeth, you make a point of adjusting the skirt of your dress before returning your focus to Reverend Turner at the pulpit. Trying your best to ignore the hum of electricity in your veins, you find yourself wishing that you’d opted to stay home today. After all, you hadn’t been to church in ages.

So what on earth possessed you to return today?

It’s not like you were concerned for your immortal soul or anything. On the contrary, you and God were good. You were even on speaking terms again – now that you’d finally forgiven him for calling your Uncle Leon home before you were ready to let him go.

That had been nearly three years ago.

These days, your grief has taken a backseat in favor of running the town’s only bookshop, Baubles & Quills. Once owned by your Uncle, the store had become your sanctuary as you’d struggled to cope with the loss of the only family you’d ever had.

And now that you’d deemed life worth living again you’d apparently decided that attending Calvary Baptist Church’s Sunday morning service was a good idea. But the one thing you hadn’t counted on when you’d politely – and strategically – taken a seat in the pew closest to the door was that you’d end up sharing it with the likes of him.

That bounty hunter fella that you’d been hearing about for the last week. His arrival had practically sent your little town into a regular feeding frenzy. Word on the street was that he was investigating something that had to do with your old high school pal, Martin Westbrook.

At least that’s what Charline Marshall had said when she’d stopped by your shop to return a book she’d purchased because she didn’t care for the ending. While you weren’t usually one for gossip, you’d been intrigued by her, ah, description of the handsome stranger that had taken up residence just a few blocks south of where you lived.

Two Days Ago…

“His name is Ari Levinson. Kinda strange, right?” She’d whispered conspiratorially, running a hand through her copper colored tresses . “But he’s a tall drink of water with the prettiest blue eyes I‘ve ever seen.”

“Oh really?” You’d mumbled, frowning at the crease that adorned the spine of the paperback book in your hands. Another one for the discount rack.

“Mhm. He’s handsome all over.” Charline had continued, picking up one of your more elaborate looking bookmarks and pretending to study it before using it to fan herself. “And not only that, but…” She’d leaned in then, allowing her freshly manicured nails lightly graze your arm. “I think he likes me.”

“Oh? Has he come out and said that?” Your eyes had gone wide with feigned interest. Because of course the man would be into Charline Anne Marshall. Who wouldn’t be? The woman was beautiful and, what’s more, she knew it.

“Well, I mean…not yet.” The woman had let out a disappointed little sigh. “But I’m almost certain he will. I’m just giving him time to get settled in, you know?” She’d said, her perfectly painted lips curving into a smile as she held out a hand for her change.

“How kind of you.” Good Lord how you wished you could hurry things along so you could go back to enjoying your peace and quiet.

“Ari has already interviewed me twice. He even gave me his number, just in case I happen to remember anything else.” She’d tucked the cash from her return into her purse. “I think I might call him up and tell him that my memory works best after a couple of drinks. Think that’ll work?”

“I guess you’ll never know if you don’t try.” Even though you were annoyed, you’d pasted on a fake smile and closed the register, hoping that might be enough to convince her to end the conversation and move on already.

“Why, I think you just might be right.” Your unwanted guest held up the bookmark that was still in her grasp, her unspoken question left hanging in the air. “And this?”

“It’s on the house, Charline.” You’d patiently replied, bracing your elbows on the counter. “Best of luck landing your bounty hunter beau.”

“Well, aren’t you just a gem?” She’d all but squealed, sounding positively giddy as she took a step back. “You know, I bet if you spent a little more time out in the real world instead of holed-up in here with all these books, you’d probably be able to land a man too. You’d be awful pretty if you’d just put in a little bit of effort into it. I mean –”

“No thanks.” You’d simply shrugged, unable to summon up enough energy to be outraged by the dig.

It wasn’t worth the breath you would've wasted trying to explain why you were better off keeping the company of your book boyfriends. A real man required too much care and feeding for your tastes.

“If you say so, sugar. But–” She’d responded as she strode towards the door. “Oh! You should come to my next party. We’ll let Mary Kay sponsor your makeover.”

'No offense, Charline, but I’d rather put a campfire out with my face than attend your next Mary Kay get-together featuring you and ten of your mother’s closest friends.' You'd thought to yourself.

“Uh, maybe. We’ll see.” You’d hedged before turning on your heel and heading in the direction of the stockroom. “Enjoy the bookmark!” God, you’d never been so happy to hear someone exit your shop than you were at that moment.

Which brought you back to the present. You’re startled out of your reverie when the congregation erupts into thunderous applause, signaling the end of Reverend Turner’s sermon. You knew you were going to have to move quickly if you wanted to avoid any unwanted attention from other members of the flock.

Or worse yet: be forced into making small talk with Ari Levinson. Assuming that beast of a man actually possessed enough brain cells to actually string together a sentence or two. Which was a shame because he really was easy on the eyes.

Unfortunately for you, you don’t realize that now you’re the one who’s staring until you notice the corner of his mouth tilt up in a smirk. Shit. The cocky lawman nods his head in your direction before having the audacity to mouth the word: “howdy”. It almost makes you wonder what his voice would sound like.

Would his southern drawl be thick and rough, or smooth and easygoing? Assuming he was southern, that is.

Feeling your cheeks heat, you make fast work of grabbing your things before scooting out of the pew, doing your best to sneak out of the service before everyone is formally dismissed. The absolute last thing you needed was to have this man thinking you were like every other woman in this town who was willing to practically trip over herself just to get a good look at him.

On your way out you brush past Sister Mary Jo Winans, who is all too eager to follow you out the door and halfway down the front stairs.

So much for making a clean getaway.

“You’re not staying for the potluck?” She wheezes, gripping the railing as she struggles to catch her breath.

“Afraid not, Sister Winans.” You tell her while digging through your purse for your keys. “I’ve gotta go home and change so I can head over to the shop.”

“But it’s Sunday, honey.” The matronly woman huffs, adjusting the angle of her wide-brim church hat. “This is the day that the Lord has made. We are to rejoice and be glad in it. It’s all right there in the good Book.”

“Be that as it may, Sister, I’m afraid I can’t stay. Plus I wouldn’t feel right about eating when I didn’t bring a dish to contribute, so…” You offer up a one-armed shrug. “Next time.”

You also weren’t a fan of eating in front of people. You were always self-conscious about whatever you put on your plate, convinced that you were being judged for your choices. Your stomach growls at the mention of food, reminding you that you’d left some cottage cheese and fruit behind at the shop. That would just have to do until you found the wherewithal to make it to the grocery store.

“But–”

“Next time. I promise.” You kindly interrupt, hoping that she would just let the issue drop. “By the way, I set aside a copy of Joyce Meyer’s latest book for you.”

“You did?”

“Yep.” You confirm as you begin walking backwards towards the nearby parking lot. “Stop by anytime. We’ll consider it an early birthday present, alright?” Smiling when she nods, you toss her a little wave before speed walking the rest of the way to your car.

Unlocking it, you climb in the driver’s seat and slam the door before gunning the engine. Finally free, you peel out of the lot and turn onto the empty street. Needing to focus on something other than your thoughts about a certain bounty hunter, you decide to turn up the radio, praying for your traitorous brain to cooperate.

Yeah, no such luck.

“Fuck you, Levinson.” You spit, wishing that he was close enough to hear you right then. Because the way you saw it, the sooner he packed his shit and moved on, the better off you and everyone else in this godforsaken town would be. And if he knew what was good for him, he’d stay far away from you.

He’d have more luck getting information out of a drunk Charline than he would trying to get you to spill your guts. And the moment he threatened you, you were planning to call Bell’s Creek PD to let them deal with it. Until then, you had some empty shelves to stock. But first…

You were gonna need to find someone to cut you out of these damned spanx.

END

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unnuevosoltransformalarealidad · 1 month

Text

How we say goodbye

Pairings - Bestfriend!Neighbor!Bucky x Fem!Naive!Bestfriend!Reader

Summary - The reader is moving to go to college and Bucky takes his opportunity to say one final goodbye.

Warnings - smut, p in v, choking, praise kink, naive reader, somewhat of dubious consent. reader is a virgin, Bucky is around 22 and the reader is 18.

Notes - This is somewhat of a modern!au. This is my first time writing smut on here so please don't judge too hard!! Also, let me know if there are any other warnings I need to put up, thank you for reading loves!

WC - 1,960

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"Bucky!!" You opened the front door, revealing your neighbor standing there with some more boxes to help prepare for your move. "Good mornin' doll." He grins, stepping past you as you hold the door wide open.

"You can just put them upstairs beside my bedroom!" You smiled, shutting the door and moving to walk up the stairs.

You were currently packing for your move to college. Trading the busy New York atmosphere for a quaint college town in Connecticut. Not too far, however far enough in Bucky's opinion. But he would never let you know that.

He follows you up the stairs, shamelessly watching your ass sway in your tight black leggings as you took each step.

"Here okay?" He gestured inside your bedroom. You were about to protest, knowing your parents would never let a boy in your room, especially Bucky with how close you guys were. But he moved inside the room before you could object. "Just this once," You thought, knowing your parents weren't home at the moment.

Bucky dropped the boxes on the ground, his shirt riding up slightly. You watched from behind as his abs flexed below the tent of his shirt, keeping your eyes on the v-line of muscle that led right below the hem of his jeans.

"See something you like, doll?" Bucky smirked, making you look up at him with wide eyes. You didn't realize how long you had been staring. A slight blush rose to your cheeks, words suddenly not wanting to form in your mouth.

You had always thought Bucky was attractive. More than attractive as you grew older. Sexy, hot, absolutely delicious. Other more not as telling synonyms.

Bucky chuckled, lounging down on your still-made bed. A white comforter adorned the double mattress. White, frilly, pillows and a couple throw blankets also lay on the bed.

"I'm gonna miss this bed, doll."

You laugh, coming to sit on the edge of the bed, taking a pillow in your arms and placing it in your lap. "You have a bed, Buck. Not even a hundred feet away from mine."

He groaned, laying back on your pillows, "It's not the same, honey." He stretched out. You could feel him watching you as he played with the edge of your white flowery blouse. "I'm gonna miss everything about you."

"Everything about me?" You turned back, loving the way his hand felt against your skin as he rubbed soft circles into the dip of your lower back. "What about me?" He smiled with that devious smirk, "Oh I'll miss you the most sweetheart." You turned back, playing with the pillow as he rose, coming to sit behind you. You were about to turn around when he placed a hand on your shoulder, his mouth so close to your ear you could feel his breath on your neck.

"But most of all I'm gonna miss your laugh," He started tucking your hair away from your neck, bringing it all to one side. "I'm gonna miss your smile." You felt your heart bloom, knowing how much Bucky adored you.

"I'm gonna miss the way you so innocently move your body in front of me without even knowing what it does to me." "Bucky?" "Shhh..."

He moved his hand from your shoulder to right below your jaw, rubbing circles with his thumb around your throat. "You're alright, doll. You're my doll." He started to kiss your neck, making you freeze. "You're always gonna be my doll."

Without warning he pulled you back, making your head plop softly onto the pillows as placed both his knees on each side of your body.

"Bucky!" Your eyes were wide, wondering what had gotten into him all of a sudden. But he only shushed you once again, taking his hand that wasn't on your throat and ripping the frilly pillow you had in your arms away.

"I've wanted to touch you for so long, doll." You gulped, watching his eyes turn dark as he licked his lips. "I've wanted to make you mine ever since I saw Steve kiss you at that party in sophomore year."

"We didn't do anything, Buck. Steve didn't-" "But he took something from me, see, doll." Bucky moved closer, wrapping your legs around his waist, "I wanted to be your first."

He moved his hand, taking your socks off without you even realizing. "Your first kiss," Then placing his hand on the waistband of your leggings, "Your first date." He removed his hand from your throat, tucking his fingers under the band of your leggings and ripping them down your legs.

You shrieked, trying to hide yourself but failing. "The first person who ever got to taste you, doll." "Bucky, I've- I've never." You stuttered only to have Bucky place a finger on your lips. "Don't worry, I'll go slow, honey."

You wanted to object, tell him it was wrong but the tingling sensation you felt in your lower belly made you keep quiet. You wanted more.

Bucky delved down, placing an open-mouthed kiss on your covered pussy. "Ahhh," You arched your back, never having felt these feelings, these sensations before. Bucky only looked up, seeing your heavy-lidded eyes as you watched him make out with your covered clit.

He licked and sucked at your pussy, only satisfied when he saw the substantial wet spot that now soaked your panties.

"P-please Bucky." He stopped, holding both sides of your cotton thong in his hands as he looked up at you. "What, doll?"

"M-more."

He smirked, "What do you want, baby? I need words." You gulped, your hand coming down to clench your comforter in your palm. "I don't know, Buck. Just.. more." Bucky smirked, "That's alright, doll. Don't worry." He placed a soft kiss on your pussy. "I'll give you everything you need."

Without warning he ripped down your thong, a red mark coming to your thighs from the sudden roughness. Placing soft kissing in between your legs, Bucky dove in, licking a long stripe up from your entrance to your clit.

Your back arched once more, feeling the way he sucked, pulled, and licked your clit. You moaned, your eyes falling closed as you tugged on the bed sheets harder. One particular amazing feeling made you grip onto Bucky's hair instead; making him groan into you. The vibrations only spurring you and him on more.

He moved his hand, suddenly urging his middle finger into your entrance, making your eyes fly open as you looked down at him staring right at you. "B-buck, It hurts." Bucky lifted his face from your pussy, licking his lips. "I know, doll. But I gotta loosen you up a bit." You groaned, feeling his larger middle finger pushing in. "It'll feel good soon, I promise, honey."

And it did, once Bucky again started sucking on your clit while slowly moving his middle finger in and out you started to feel something you never had before.

Sure, you had played with yourself down there before. Even tried to sit on the washing machine when Natasha told you that's what she did before she and Wanda got together but THIS?

This was something you had never felt.

"Bucky! Bucky, I think I'm gonna-" "Just let it out, doll," He kissed your thigh as he slipped a second finger in, "Let it happen, sweetheart."

And you did, you felt white-hot flashes of any and everything shooting through your body as your first orgasm hit, making your legs convulse as Bucky worked you through it.

"Good girl." He continued giving you small kitten licks to your clit, "Such a good doll for me." You felt your whole body preen at the praise as you started to come down.

You breathed heavily, aware of Bucky slipping his fingers out of you before moving off the bed to shed his own jeans and boxers.

"Bucky?" You finally opened your eyes, seeing him hovering over you, moving your legs so he was snuggly in between them. "You're so good for me, doll." A soft kiss was placed on your lips.

You bit your lip, feeling the tip of his dick as he rubbed it through the lips of your pussy. You held onto his arms as he positioned his dick to your entrance, looking back into your eyes.

Maintaining eye contact, Bucky started to push his hips down, making you squirm upwards. He groaned, placing a hand above your shoulder to stop you from moving as his other palm placed itself on your hip; keeping you still.

"B-Bucky! S-stop, it hurts!!" But he kept going, rubbing your clit with the hand that was on your hip. "It'll feel so good, doll. Just gotta get it in."

He pushed all the way in without warning, making you shriek as your nails clamped down into Bucky's skin, drawing blood. "Bucky!"

"You're so tight, doll." His voice was husky, his hair now in his face as his eyes shut, "Fuckin' made for me, baby."

You felt tears come to your eyes from the stretch, wanting nothing but to push him off of you. But then when his hips moved out and forward once again you felt a tingling in your lower belly. Bucky was moving his length in and out of you at a rough pace.

The pain had subsided, now you only felt pleasure. His hips snapped as he rubbed your clit. "Here baby, let me show you." He moved your hand from his bicep, making you place two fingers on your clit and moving them in circles. "Keep doing that for me, doll."

You obeyed, watching as he moved his hand to your throat, pressing his thumb and pointer finger to the sides of your neck. Your eyes widened once again as you felt the air constrict.

"Keep rubbing yourself just like I taught you, baby." Your mouth fell open in response to him squeezing your throat. "Just like that, doll." His hips kept snapping forward, hitting that spot inside of you that you didn't even know existed.

Once again white hot flashes of pleasure shot through every single nerve ending in your body. Bucky could sense you were close as he closed his hand a little tighter on your throat, making you speed up the movements on your clit. "Come on, doll. Cum for me baby."

You nodded, wanting to please Bucky. Your eyes shut closed as he sped up his thrusts at an inhuman speed, wanting to make you cum first. "Come on, I know you can do it. You've been such a good girl for me," He moved down, lips as the shell of your ear. "Fucking cum, doll."

And you did, clenching down hard on his dick as your legs shook. Bucky felt you start to orgasm as his cum shot deep inside of you, making him groan as his own legs shook a little on yours.

He let the grip on your throat go, replacing his lips with kisses to the spots he knew would bruise. You felt a heating sensation as Bucky slipped out of you, making you look down as he collected his cum with his middle and index finger.

"Taste what you made me do, doll." He brought his fingers up to your lips, making you taste yours and his cum on your tongue. "Swallow." He ordered, which you instantly obeyed, feeling the sweet yet salty taste go down your throat.

Placing the throw blanket over your two bodies, he collected you into his arms. Bucky planted a soft kiss on the crown of your head, moving his hand to your jaw to make you look at him.

"This is just how we say goodbye from now on, alright doll?" You nod, smiling up at him. "Okay, Bucky."

---

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unnuevosoltransformalarealidad · 1 month

Text

His innocent girl | Ari Levinson

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> DBF!Ari Levinson x Innocent!Virgin!Female!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> He can’t stand the desire you’re causing with your little outfits and the innocence you show him. Ari needs you — he needs to ruin you for every other man.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 5.349 (a lot smut, almost only smut)

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> 18+, Minors DNI, smut, age gap (Reader in her early 20’s, Ari in his early 40’s), innocent!Reader, oral (fem!receiving), fingering, loosing of virginity, unprotected p in v, daddy kink, crying during sex, pussy slapping, belly bulge, squirting, creampie, multiple orgasm, degradation, praises, bit of dirty talk

𝐀/𝐍 -> The idea for the Oneshot is filled with @amathslutsguidetofandom and my dirty thoughts about Ari. So thank you so much. I also wanna thank my best friend @imtryingbuck for proofreading. I love you so much, thank youuuuu.❤️❤️

Masterlist | Ari Levinson Masterlist

The pink, fluffy bunny ears fit perfectly on top of your head, making your outfit look perfect. You're standing in front of the mirror with a pink little skirt, overknees, and a short pink top covering most of your body. You turn to the left, then to the right, letting the skirt slowly fly higher and revealing the sweet, white cotton panties you're wearing underneath. You're smirking at yourself and sliding your hand over your skirt before you turn around and open the door of your room.

When you do so, you hear the voices of your parents and another familiar voice. Deep but soft, and you already know who is sitting downstairs in the kitchen with a coffee in front of him and a big grin on his lips. Ari Levinson - your dad's best friend.

With a grin on your lips, you walk downstairs, slightly jumping up and down, when you enter the kitchen, where Steve — your dad — and Ari are sitting. Your father turns his head toward you, smiling when you walk closer and kissing his cheek softly.

"Good morning, daddy," you say in your sweetest voice.

"Morning, sweetheart."

Then you turn around to face Ari, and he smiles nicely at you. His blue eyes are glistening, and he licks his lips with his tongue. His hand is gripping the cup of coffee in front of him, and his knuckles are turning white. The little skirt that covers just a bit more than half your ass and the tight top, the pink you're always wearing — Ari can't stop his fantasies even though your outfit doesn't give much to his imagination. And the sweet, fluffy bunny ears you're wearing make him go crazy.

"Hello, Mr. Levinson," you say, smiling before you turn around to make yourself breakfast.

Ari needs to hide the groan that is creeping up his throat. You can't just look innocent and talk to him while you call him by his last name. He feels his pants tightening, his dick is pressing uncomfortable against the fabric, to the point he needs to lean back in the chair. It gets even worse when you bend down to reach for the cereals on the counter. Your skirt is sliding up and revealing your panties, Ari's eyes are focused on your ass and on your cunt, and he can't bring himself to look somewhere else. Luckily, Steve is sitting in front of him, so it looks like Ari is looking at him.

You're taking the cereal and the milk, and with a bowl your dad gave you already and make your way to sit next to Ari, putting everything into the bowl while you sing quietly. Steve tells Ari something about the barbecue later, but Ari's eyes are focused on you. He looks at you while you eat your cereal and sing quietly.

"I need to go shopping for that. Do you wanna come with me, sweetheart?" Your dad asks, but you shake your head.

"I have to do a speech for uni," you say with a nice smile.

Ari licks his lips once again. He told your dad to prepare everything while he goes shopping and to know you're there with him. He feels his dick twitch in his pants; he wants to bend you over the table right now, ruining your innocence. He wants to hear those sweet moans leaving your lips when he slides his dick in and out of you.

When your dad goes shopping, you're alone with Ari. He smirks at you, running his fingers through his long-brown hair and looking at the counter for everything you need for the barbecue. You're looking at Ari, your arms resting on the table while you have your hands under your chin. Your legs are swining forward and backward.

"Do you want to help me, babygirl?" Ari asks.

"Yes, Mr. Levinson."

Ari feels his dick hardening once again while you're walking around the kitchen island. Ari is tall; he has high-defined muscles, and you need to look up to look into his face. He smirks when he points to the bowls he needs from another counter. You nod and give them to him, then you turn around once again and bend over to look for some sweets you want to offer him. Your dad loves them; you love them, so maybe Ari loves them as well?

When you bend over, Ari's eyes are immediately focused on your ass once again. He groans softly, and when you grab the sweets and turn back, you see the way his ocean-blue eyes darken. You're not sure why he groaned, but Ari just bits his lips and looks your body up and down, then back into your eyes. His hand reaches out for you, grasping your waist and pulling you close against him.

"A sweet little pink diamont plug would fit perfectly into your pretty little ass."

"A- A pl- What?" You ask, and you narrow your eybrows.

Ari closes his eyes, swallowing the low groan. How can someone so sweet be so innocent at the same time? His grip tightens, and he slides his other hand along your side until his hand is placed on your ass.

“A plug, baby. Making you feel good here,” he says, slapping softly with his palm on your ass.

You gasp, looking up at him with a confused expression. Ari slips his hand underneath your skirt, caressing the soft skin of your ass. You whimper. Ari leans closer, kissing your nose and your forehead softly, while he slides his other hand to your ass cheeks as well. He then grabs them, pulling them apart and groaning when you press yourself more against him.

“Mr. L— Levinson, what are you doing?” You ask.

Your eyes are widening, and Ari can’t stop himself from groaning once again. His dick is leaking and pressing against his pants. You’re feeling something against your lower stomach; it’s big, and you wonder if he has his keys in his pants.

“Do— Do you have your keys in your pocket?”

“No,” Ari says, chuckling about your innocence. “That’s my dick. Feeling how hard it is just for you?”

You shake your head. Why should his cock grow because of you? You didn’t do anything, so why should there be something he is getting hard from? He leans down closer to your lips, and you can feel his hot breath on your lips. You close your eyes instinctively, and Ari chuckles. You whimper when he doesn’t break the distance between your lips. When you close your eyes to look into his steel blue ones, he just grins at you.

“Please, Mr. Levi—“

“Call me daddy, can you do this?”

You nod, confused about why he wants you to call him like you call your daddy but you don’t mind. You just want him to kiss you like you have always seen it in those romantic movies.

“And what do you want, babygirl?”

“C— Can you kiss me?”

He smirks, leaning in and capturing your lips with his. It’s a short but sweet kiss, and your knees are suddenly weak, and you feel a tingling feeling in your stomach. One that slides down between your legs and causes you to press your thighs together.

“You’re oke, baby?”

“It’s tingling,” you mumble, blushing.

“What’s tingling. Tell Daddy, where is it tingling?”

Ari knows what you mean, but he wants to hear it from you. He wants to hear that innocent, sweet girl say that she is dripping her panties because of the big, broad men in front of him.

“Down there,” you say quietly, and turn your head away.

He lets go of your ass with one of his hands and grips your chin, making you look up at him again. His blue eyes piercing in yours, he smirks, while his thumb slides over your bottom lip, pressing into your mouth. You take it and twirl your tongue around his thumb, causing more tingles in your stomach. Ari removes his thumb with a plop and licks his lips.

“Do you need help with that tingling feeling in your belly?”

You nod, your eyes pleading. Ari grabs you by your waist and lifts you up, placing you on the surface of the counter. His hands slide up and down your thighs, closer to your pussy and he pushes your skirt up, revealing your wet panties. Ari groans, getting on his knees and pushing his head between your legs. He inhales deeply when his nose touches your covered pussy. You shiver slightly, moaning about the sudden feeling of him between your legs. Ari brings his hand to shove your pants away, and a low chuckle leaves his lips when he sees your dripping cunt.

“You’re so wet for me,” he says, kissing your pussy.

You moan softly. His tongue glides through your folds, and you can’t help but grip his long hair, tugging at it. You’re not sure if you want him to continue or stop; it’s a new sensation and feels good and weird at the same time.

“D— Daddy, what are you doing?”

Ari lets go of your pussy for a moment; this innocence of yours makes him so fucking desperate that he just wants to bend you over the counter and fuck you. He knows he would ruin you for everyone else.

“I have a taste of your pretty little cunt, babygirl.”

He lowers his head between your legs once again, lapping at your pussy, making you moan and arch your back in pleasure. Ari’s beard is scratching your thighs and clit slightly, masking the feeling even more intensely. A feeling you never had before grows in your stomach, and you worry for a moment since it feels like you really need to pee. But Ari’s grip on your thighs is so strong that you can’t move away to get down the counter and go to pee.

“Daddy—“ you moan, your eyes watering.

“What’s wrong, babygirl?”

“I— I need to pee.”

Ari looks confused for a moment, removing his tongue from in between your folds. Instead, he shoves his chunky fingers along your folds, circling your entrance before he pushes a finger into your tight entrance.

“Don’t worry, baby. You don’t need to pee; let go for me. Can you do it?”

You nod, and Ari pumps his finger inside of you. He hits your sweet spot, still tasting you on his tongue and lips. Your moan shamelessly, his finger moving slowly inside of your tight pussy, and he can’t help but imagine his cock in your pussy.

“Have you ever touched yourself?”

“Nu—uh.”

Ari almost comes in his pants when you tell him that you never touched yourself. You’re so fucking tight that he just wants to burry his huge dick into you, splitting you open. He pushes his finger deeper into you, hitting your sweet spot and making you almost scream. Ari smirked, feeling you clench around him. He speeds up slightly, pushing another of his thick fingers into your pussy.

“Daddy, feeling that tingle so much.”

“Let go; come for Daddy.”

And you do. You arch your back and come all over his fingers, creaming them in your slick while he fucks you with his fingers through your high. Your pussy is squeezing him violently, sucking him deeper into you.

“Good girl, such a good girl,” he praises.

He slowly pulls his fingers out of your cunt, making you whimper about the sudden emptiness. Your legs are shaking, and your breath is heavy while you look at Ari. He brings his fingers to his lips and takes them into his mouth, sucking them clean while he groans about your sweet taste. You look at him, whimpering softly about the feeling growing between your legs. Something like desire, where you need Ari to take care of your cunt.

“Daddy, that tingling—“

“Shhh— Daddy’s gonna take care of his pussy.”

You nod, pouting slightly, and Ari chuckles. He gets off the floor and leans closer, capturing your cheeks with his big hands and pressing his lips softly on yours. His tongue glides over your lips; you part them slightly, and Ari pushes his tongue into your mouth. His hands slide along your body, removing your panties. Then he unbuckles his belt and opens his pants before he slides them down, revealing his boxers with the outline of his fat, hard cock and a little spot where his tip is pressed against the fabric already wet from his pre-cum.

“Wanna see daddy’s fat cock, little girl?”

“I—“

Ari doesn’t give you much time to answer; he hooks his fingers into the waistband of his boxers and shoves them down his thick thighs. He would love to take off all your clothes, would worship every bit of your body, and kiss every inch of your skin, but he is so desperate to feel you. And the outfit turns him on beyond belief. You look at his weeping cock, which just springs free; the tip is red, and you see the veins running along it. He sees the struggle in your eyes. What should you do know? Touch it, or let himself touch it?

“You can touch it; just be careful,” he says, holding out his hand to place yours into his.

When your small hand is placed in his big one, he walks a step closer, letting his fingers slide over the soft skin of his cock. You follow every movement of your fingers with your eyes, furrowing softly while you’re concentrated on the way his tip feels. When you swipe your thumb over the slit, Ari pushes his hips forward and groans.

“Do— Does it feel good?” You ask innocently and look into his eyes.

He nods, smirking when your smile grows. You wrap your fingers around his huge length, pumping his cock slowly into your hand. Ari throws his head back, thrusting it into your hand. When you see the way he reacts to your touches, you use your other hand and take his balls into it, grinning when he groans and hums in response.

When Ari feels the pleasure in his belly growing, he takes a step back and pushes you by your shoulders down. You whimper, and when his cock taps your pussy, he is smearing his pre-cum all over your pussy. You’re wiggling your ass, earning a slap on your thigh. Tears build up in the corner of your eyes, and Ari captures your cheeks with his hands, kissing you softly.

He then takes his cock into his hand, giving himself a few strokes and slapping the tip against your pussy. You moan softly, and he does it again. Then he pushes his dick between your folds, still not entering you. With his thumb, he holds his dick in between your wet folds while he thrusts slowly forward. Your eyes are almost closed when his cock always hits your clit whenever he pushes forward. Your lips are slightly parted, and you whimper, gripping the surface of the counter to steady yourself. Ari grinds against you over and over again until you’re a moaning mess underneath him. Sweat is covering your forehead, and your hair is messy, but for Ari, you’re beautiful as always. You mumble his name and ‘daddy’ over and over again.

So cock drunk, and he hasn’t even pushed in yet. Ari loves the way you’re whimpering for more, pushing yourself against him even though you’re such an innocent little girl. Not really knowing what you're asking him for — for a fat cock that will ruin her tiny pussy for everyone else — just the thought makes Ari come almost immediately.

“Do you want Daddy to make you feel good? Are you daddy’s little slut?” He asks, and you nod, slightly confused about him making you feel good and calling you a slut.

You don’t even know what the word means, but when he uses it, it’s probably nothing bad, right? So you just nod, and Ari smirks, still thrusting his dick through your folds and hitting your clit. Your moans grow louder, your back arches, and your legs are shaking when the feeling in your pussy appears once again.

“D—Daddy, so tingling down there.”

“‘S oke, come for me; make a mess,” he says, smirking when you throw your head back.

Your walls are clenching, and your whines are needier when you come a second time. Ari still moves his dick in between your folds, pressing his tip against your clit, causing you to inhale deeply and push your hips up to get more of his cock.

“Such a slut, trying to get my cock, huh?”

Your legs are shaking, and your chest raises and falls while you slowly clam down from your orgasm. Ari didn’t come yet, and you wonder why he didn’t; maybe he doesn’t feel as tingly as you do?

“Daddy?”

“Mhm?”

“Don’t you feel tingly?” You ask, pouting slightly.

“I do. But my cock needs to be warm and wet, babygirl,” he explains with a grin.

Ari’s hand is still holding his cock in between your folds, slapping it a few times on your pussy before he moves himself further down to your tight entrance. Even when it’s an odd feeling, it gives you at the same time pleasure when his dick touches your entrance. Ari tries to push the tip of his cock into your pussy, but it doesn’t really work, and he immediately slips out of there.

“Aww, babygirl. Don’t you wanna have Daddy inside of you?” He asks, amused.

“I want, Daddy,” you whimper, feeling the tears falling down your cheeks.

“Shh— it’s fine. I will make it fit, baby,” he coos, caressing your cheek.

Ari tries again, pushing his cock slowly into your tight entrance. You grip his muscular arms, digging your nails into his skin while he stretches your entrance with his dick. You squirm, trying to escape the slight pain he causes in your pussy. Ari’s just pushing a tiny bit into you before he pauses, your walls already clenching around him, squeezing his cock.

“Do you know that you make me go crazy with that little outfit? Or with all your outfits, showing almost your ass,” Ari says and smirks when you blush about his comments.

“I— It’s so big, Daddy,” you mumble, digging your fingers even more into his arm.

Ari smirks, leaning closer to capture your lips with his, soft and warm. When he leans closer, his dick slides deeper into your tight hole. You bite into his lip, causing him to chuckle. When he leans back, your eyes are almost closed. You moan, arching your back, and he pushes his tip completely into you. Ari groans about the sudden tightness around his cock; you’re squeezing him, and Ari just wants to push deeper into you, getting more of your warm, tight pussy.

“Breathe deeply, oke?”

You do, inhaling deeply, but it gets interrupted when you suddenly scream in pain. Tears are building in the corner of your eyes, and they roll down your cheeks. Your eyes are red, watering even more when Ari doesn’t stop from pushing inside of you.

“Pl— Please, stop. M—My belly,” you whine, trying to get away from him while you’re still holding his arms.

“Sh— It’s oke, it feels better when I’m inside of you,” Ari mumbles, smirking when you nod.

He didn’t know that your tears would make his cock twitch, but they do. You’re pretty when you cry because of his cock. When it’s because of him splitting you in half with his fat dick, turning you into his own little sex toy. He knows he shouldn’t ruin you for another man, but he just can’t hold back when you’re underneath him with that cute outfit, the bunny eyes on your head, and the tears all over your cheeks while you take his cock like a good girl. And when he is the only one who fucks you, when he is the one who loves you, then he doesn’t ruin you for others because you’re his — and only his.

Ari is just a bit deeper inside of you than he was before, with most of his cock still outside of your cunt. He wipes the tears on your cheeks away, kissing the tip of your nose, and continues to push into you. He is stretching you open in a way you never thought it could be possible to stretch something. Ari is huge; you feel the vein of his cock inside of you, and even though it burns, it kinda feels great.

“Doing so well for Daddy. Daddy’s good girl, aren’t you?”

You nod; the pain gets worse once he pushes himself faster into you. He just can’t and doesn’t want to wait to be completely in the warm wetness of your pussy. Ari needs you to be inside your pussy, to clench around his cock, and to see more of those pretty tears of yours while he fucks you senseless. He wants to hear you screaming when you come all over his dick, making a mess and squeezing him even tighter.

“D—daddy,” you squeal when he grips your waist harshly to guide his dick better into you.

Ari laughs, pulling you closer against him and shoving his cock deeper. Tears fall down your cheeks, and you squeeze your eyes shut while he rams his dick in your pussy. He is rough this time, not giving you time to adjust to his length. Ari needs all of his control to not come immediately; you fit so perfectly around him, sucking him in, and the warmth that surrounds his cock makes him go crazy. He digs his fingers into your soft skin, bringing his cock completely into your tight hole. You squirm, clenching hard around him, while he splits you open. You pussy burns, and you feel like your tight cunt just can’t get used to his fat cock.

“I’m sorry, babygirl. I just couldn’t hold back any longer. Shhhh— breathe; you’re doing so well. Taking Daddy’s cock like a good girl. You’re so pretty when you cry on my cock; you’re so pretty, baby,” he coos, leaning closer to kiss the tears away.

Even when you’re still crying, he kisses them away, making sure you’re feeling better with his dick inside of you. He knows he should pull out, give you time to adjust slowly, and work you open with his fingers, but he was holding back for so long, and he just wants to feel the warmth around his cock. The clenching feeling of you and the tears that cover your cheeks because he is just too fat for your baby cunt to take him.

“Daddy, I— I can feel you so deep in my belly,” you whimper.

“Yes. See that?” Ari asks, pulling your shirt up and revealing your soft belly with the bugle of his dick. “That’s my cock.”

You whimper, sliding your head down to where his cock is visible. You slide your fingers over it and make him smile even wider. He adores the way you’re looking so innocent and now with his cock inside of you, seeing him poking in your belly and touching the bulge he is causing with his cock. Ari slowly pulls out of you, making you hiss about the sudden feeling. You whimper when you feel every inch of his cock moving inside of you.

“Nuuu—Daddy, please stay there.”

"Aww, do you need my cock inside of you? Pretty little slut for me,” he says, smirking when you nod eagerly.

He pushes back inside of you, and you immediately sigh in relief. His dick stretches you painfully, but when he pulls out, you feel so empty, and when he just stays like that, the pain slowly fades away. Ari just pushes slightly forward and backward, making you furrow your eyebrows.

“Don’t! Daddy!”

“Oh— baby, not like that; be nice,” he says, bringing his hand to your pussy and slapping softly on it.

You gasp, your eyes watering, and Ari does it again, causing more tears in your eyes. He then presses his thumb against your clit, circling it softly. You wiggle underneath him, and his dick slides deeper into you until he is balls deep inside your pussy. You squeeze him even more, and when he rubs circles on your clit, the feeling you had earlier appears once again in your stomach.

“Daddy— tingling.”

“It’s oke, come for daddy; come all around his fat cock, little slut.”

And you do, your walls clenching violently around his dick. You’re moaning loudly, throwing your head back and pushing your hips more against him, and his fingers continue to circle your clit. Ari starts thrusting into you slowly and only a bit, but you feel every tiny movement of his cock and every vein along his shaft. His eyes are piercing in yours while he fucks you through your high.

“You’re squeezing me so fucking good, pretty girl.”

Ari throws his head back when you look through your lashes at him. Your eyes are still filled with tears, but the desire in his eyes makes him thrust into you. You’re sucking him in every time he pulls out of you. When another sharp pain suddenly appears in your skin, you look at the place where the two of you are connected. He slaps your pussy slightly, but enough to cause a sharp pain in your overstimulated pussy. Ari moves his hips at a steady but faster pace against yours. His balls are slapping against your ass whenever he thrusts forward. Your arousal is covering his dick; the sound when he pushes back into you makes him feral, and his thrusts are harder. The juice that is dripping out of you lands in his balls. They are heavy, and it gets even worse when he thinks about the way he is pushing his seeds into you.

“Feels so good—“

“Yeah? Are you daddy’s little slut?”

You nod, pushing yourself against him when he tries to pull out of you. Ari chuckles, slapping on your pussy once again, causing you to squeal and look at him with widening eyes.

“D— Faster, please.”

Ari groans, but obeys. He is thrusting his dick faster into your tight cunt, making you cry on his cock even more. Your pussy slightly hurts, but the feeling of his cock inside of you feels just too good.

“You’re such a little desperate slut, so cock drunk, aren’t you, baby? Asking your dad’s best friend to fuck you like a little fuck toy.”

You whimper, and Ari smirks, fucking harder into you, getting more of those sweet moans from you. Ari feels his dick twitch, your walls clenching and making it almost impossible for him to move inside of you. He circles your clit with his thumb once again, making your eyes shut up, and you throw your head back in pleasure.

“D— Please, I need to come,” you shout, your hands gripping his arm.

Your nails dig into his skin, and you’re feeling his grip on your waist tighten while he fucks you closer to your orgasm. Ari isn’t far behind you; you feel just so perfect around his dick.

“It’s so sensitive, daddy,” you whimper.

He grins, pushing his thumb further down on your clit. Making you gasp and making eye contact with him.

“My pretty little slut. See, I’ve ruined you for every other man. You’re mine, aren’t you? Tell me you’re mine, and you can come.”

“I’m yours. I’m yours, Daddy.”

He speeds his thrusts up, pushing harder into you. Ari loves to hear the soft whimpers and moans slipping over your lips while he fucks you like his little slut — the little slut you are for him. His dick is pulsing, and he is moaning low when you clench more than before. Your legs are shaking, your bodies are covered in sweat, and his breath is just as heavy as yours. You’re just about to come, and Ari knows. He rubs his fingers over your clit, your eyes widen, and you come. Squirting all over his dick and making a mess. Ari laughs, looking at your juices all over his dick and lower belly. He just comes a moment after you, pushing his cum deep into your tight hole and painting your walls with it.

“So— so sensitive, Daddy,” you mumble, letting your head fall down on the surface of the kitchen counter.

Ari pushes his dick slower into you, riding both of your orgasms out while you try to catch your breath. His hand slides from your clit to your sides, caressing your soft skin while his dick softens inside of you.

“You’re doing so well. Squirting all over me. You’re all mine,” he says, leaning closer to kiss your lips. “But that’s our little secret, baby. I love you, my pretty girl.”

“I— I love you too, daddy.”

Ari smiles; he helps you sit up and slips his cock out of you. You whimper about the emptiness inside your pussy. He then looks at your pulsing pussy, admiring the way your cum is dripping out of your cunt. He pulls you closer and grasps your tights to pick you up. He carries you upstairs to the bathroom, placing you on the toilet.

“You need to pee,” he says, turning around and walking out of the room.

He closes the door behind him and lets you pee. After you finish, you open the door quietly and look at the broad man who is standing with some new clothes for you in front of the door.

“Take a seat, and I will clean you, oke?”

You nod, sitting on the edge of the bathtub, and look at Ari, who gets on his knees in front of you. He has a wet washcloth in his hand and spreads your legs, cleaning your thighs. Ari moves his hand higher to your pussy, cleaning your folds and wiping your mixed juices from your pussy. You whimper, your cunt still sensitive from his dick inside of you.

“Daddy’s so empty down there.”

“It’s oke. Let’s just dress you, and then Daddy needs to clean himself. But I will put my dick into your baby cunt next time your daddy isn’t home,” he says, kissing the pout away from your lips.

After cleaning the two of you, you changed your outfit, still wearing similar clothes and the cute bunny ears on top of your head. Ari was grabbing your ass when you walked past him out of the bathroom, smirking when you squirmed in surprise.

Now you’re sitting on the kitchen counter while Ari stands between your legs, kissing your lips softly. His hands are on your waist, and his finger is digging into your soft skin.

“All mine, my little girl, my pretty girl,” he says, smirking when you blush softly. “Now let’s get the barbecue ready; otherwise, Steve is going to ask what we did the whole time.”

You giggle, grasping his shirt to pull him closer and kiss him again. Ari chuckles, then he pulls away and gets the barbecue ready.

“You’re so beautiful, my pretty girl,” Ari tells you.

When he walks through the kitchen and reaches you, he kisses you softly while his hand trails along your thigh.

“I’m home!” Steve shouts and walks toward the two of you.

You smile at him, your cheeks red, and Ari smirks widely, but Steve doesn’t say anything. It’s pretty warm in there, so he doesn’t even recognize what’s happened between you and Ari. You had sex together, and he took your virginity and claimed you and your pussy as his. And even better, Ari loves you; he really fell for you.

“I love you,” he mumbles into your ear while he walks outside with your dad.

“I love you too, Ari,” you say, jumping off the counter.

Ari’s grin gets wider when his name slips past your lips. He is a lucky man to have such a pretty girl like you by his side.

Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @cevansbaby-dove @patzammit @bigtreefest @hawkeyes-queen

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unnuevosoltransformalarealidad · 1 month

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Don’t Get Sad, Get Even

Boyfriend’s Roommate!Ari Levinson x Fem!Reader

Summary: After finding out your boyfriend is cheating on you, you decide to get back at him by sleeping with the one person he was always insecure about throughout your relationship, his roommate.

Prompt: For making me believe that you could be faithful to me - Rihanna, Take a Bow

Warnings: strictly 18+, cheating & revenge sex, use of toys (dildo & vibrator), masturbation, unprotected vaginal sex, creampie

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: this is my entry for my darling friend @flordeamatista’s Loveeeeeee Song Writing Challenge. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Library

You can’t deny that the sight of your boyfriend stumbling upstairs, lips locked with some young, college chick, fumbling to unhook her bra, makes your heart drop below your stomach.

You knew, even from the outset of your relationship, that Bryce wasn’t going to be the guy you walked down an aisle and pledged ‘I do’ to, but he had, at least initially, been attentive and put in the effort to make you feel beautiful. Your chest aches at the thought that it only took a couple drinks and a pretty girl seductively sucking on a straw, for him to break the four month long commitment you made to each other.

That he didn’t have the decency to break up with you before not so subtly sliping away from a party he himself dragged you to, to fuck some stranger a mere wall away from where he left you minutes earlier with the promise to fix you both a drink.

With your head held high, despite the slight sting behind your eyes and a lump forming in your throat, you stand and stalk out of the house, tuning out the disparaging whispers of his friends as you leave.

Fuck him for not being able to recognise your worth, and fuck settling for his unsatisfying, vanilla, one minute performances he was no doubt be subjecting that luckless college girl to right now.

If he’s going to fuck whoever he wanted, you’re going do the same. And you’ll start with the person Bryce was the most insecure about during your relationship - his roommate.

* * *

Ari enters his shared apartment and notices the sound of the shower running, which is odd considering he distinctly remembered his roommate telling him he’d have the place to himself this Saturday night.

Knowing Bryce could in fact be dumb enough to forget to turn the water off before heading out, Ari begrudgingly goes to do it for him, only to realise that it isn’t Bryce’s shower that’s running.

Surely he couldn’t have been stupid enough to do it himself? Cursing the insanely high water bill they were sure to get this month, Ari rushes to turn the shower off in his own private bathroom.

Once he storms in and his brain has time to realise what he’s actually witnessing, he’s already harder than a rock.

“Hey Ari.” You say so casually, almost devilishly, even though you’re completely naked and masturbating in his bathroom. You’ve left the door to the small shower open, giving Ari a perfect view of you riding a dildo stuck to the floor, steamy water flowing down your back and dripping onto the tiled floor from your ass. And by the faint buzzing sound reverberating off the tiled walls, he’s also fairly certain you’re using a vibrator. The thought makes him even more painfully hard.

“Ugh Sunshine, you do know this is my shower, don’t you?” Your heart flutters at his nickname for you. You suspect he only playfully called you that because of how it upset Bryce each time the moniker left his lips, but it still manages to slip out when it’s just the two of you and he’s found you in this downright pornographic scene.

“Yeah, I know. It's just… I saw Bryce cheating on me tonight and I thought fuck it, I always thought you were really hot.” Ari takes a prudent step closer to the shower, swearing under his breath as he watches the thick dildo disappearing into your pussy with each twerk of your hips. “I wanted to see if you could fuck me better than he can.”

“You think there’s even a contest?” Ari asks rhetorically as he adjusts himself in his shorts, desperate for any type of friction to ease his painful throbbing need. “I’ve heard how unsatisfied he’s left you through these very walls.”

“Guess you’ll just have to prove it to me then.” This time Ari wastes no time in accepting your challenge. Turning off the running water, his large hands pick you up from the shower floor and squeeze your ass as you wrap your legs around his waist.

He kisses you with urgency and need, swiping his tongue into your mouth as if his life depends upon it, but the ardent kiss is over far too quickly as in three long strides Ari’s already at the foot of his bed, laying you down and pulling his shirt over his head.

You’re practically drooling watching him undress, his broad shoulders, strong arms and toned abs could fool anyone into thinking he was a god carved from stone. And when he finally strips himself of his shorts and underwear, you actually salivate at the sight of his deliciously large dick already hard and ready for you.

“Fuck, you’re so much bigger than Bryce.” Your brain is practically malfunctioning at the view of the naked, burly man in front of you and these words are all you can think to say.

“This is what you’ve been missing out on, Sunshine.” Ari comments with a smirk.

He kisses you again, with the same intensity as before, but now he takes his time to explore your mouth, his hands desperate to feel every inch of you, every beautiful swell and dip, every exquisite curve he gets to claim for the night.

“Turn around for me, I wanna see that ass.” You do as he commands, face and chest to his bed, arching your back with your ass in the air, giving him prime view of exactly what he wants. You grab your vibrator, switch it on your preferred setting and hold it at the angle you’ve come to know with experience gives you the most pleasure, humming in satisfaction when you find just the right spot. “Fuck, you’re so sexy when you use that toy.”

You feel him teasingly drag the head of his dick through your folds, coating himself in your arousal, which in turn makes you wetter.

“Shit, that’s a pretty pussy. So wet for me. You’ve been thinking about fucking me for a while, haven’t you?”

You breathlessly admit you have during the beat where he pauses and lines himself up with your entrance. A chorus of moans echoes through the room as he pushes into you for the first time. He fills you up agonisingly slowly, but his bruising grip on your hips prevents you from pushing back into him. The burn of your walls stretching to accommodate him dissipates once he’s fully sheathed within you and all you can think about is how completely and utterly full you feel.

“Holy shit, you’re so tight.” Ari gives himself a moment to savour the sensation of how your soft walls grip him and seemingly pull him further into you before he begins to move, quickening his pace with every new thrust.

“Fuck, you feel so good. Fill me up so deep, Ari.” The combination of the vibrator continuously stimulating your clit and the feel of Ari’s every inch driving in and out of you already has your toes curling.

“Say my name again baby, let the neighbours know who’s fucking you so good.” You do as he requests, chanting his name with every plunge of his cock.

His bed creaks with each rocking movement, the sound of the headboard thumping into the wall rhythmically fills the room along with your moaning and the salacious sound of skin slapping skin.

“Shit, right there, Ari. Don’t fucking stop!” You think perhaps there should be a part of you that’s embarrassed at how quickly you’re finding your release, but with how neglected and needy Bryce has left you, you’re utterly desperate to feel that pent up tension snap like a rubber band.

“That’s it, pretty girl, cum for me, wanna feel you squeezing my cock.” Ari can feel how close you are, your velvety walls fluttering around him, teetering on the edge of ecstasy. With one strong thrust, your long awaited release washes through you like a wave. Every cell in your body floods with pleasure, blinding your vision and losing control of all motor function, causing you to let go of the vibrator.

As if Ari can sense the future, he’s ready when you go slack, taking the toy from your limp hand and maintaining the perfect pressure on your clit, never breaking rhythm with his thrusts, prolonging your orgasm to the point where you’re desperately mewling for him to stop and tugging at his sheets to escape the tsunami of overwhelming pleasure.

“Best pussy I’ve ever felt. I bet Bryce doesn’t fuck you this good.” Ari says as he lazily pulls out of you, wiping stray, sweaty strands of hair from his eyes as he lays beside you on his bed, gently tapping his thighs as his indication he wants you to get on top.

“Not even close.” You say breathlessly with a smirk, a little insecure about how your legs wobble as you straddle him, though Ari doesn’t seem fazed by it. In fact, he looks overjoyed watching you look down at him, a hint of endearment swirling in his lust blown pupils you hadn’t been expecting to notice.

Ari lets out a rumbling moan as you sink down onto him, his hands instinctively finding your hips as he helps you through the motions of grinding down on his dick.

“Work it pretty girl, yeah, just like that. Use me, use this fat cock, it’s all yours.” Once you have worked up a rhythm Ari removes his hands from your sides, appreciating the sight of your pussy swallowing his shaft whole, before his itching fingers caress your breasts, rolling your nipples into stiffened peaks. “You’re so beautiful riding me like this. Look at these tits, they’re fucking perfect.”

“Oh God, I’m close, Ari.”

“Me too, Sunshine.” You barely hear Ari’s words as his strong arms engulf you, flipping you into his mattress. His heavy body presses you even further into the memory foam which is permanently infused with his intoxicating musky scent, trapping you so you have no choice but to take everything he’s giving you.

His long hair falls into his eyes, but it doesn’t stop him from making adoring eye contact. Did his eyes always soften when they gazed at you? Or are you only noticing it now that you are so much closer than you have ever been before?

You loved the angel he hit inside you while you were riding him, but it’s nothing compared to the mesmerising drag of his cock in this position, his hips rolling fervently into yours as his hands interlock with yours above your head and his lips suck on the sensitive skin of your neck.

The sex feels much more intimate than you were expecting when you essentially broke into his apartment to provocatively display yourself, wishing he’d be interested enough in an easy lay to give you one climax for the night. You’re not complaining though, you always did had a soft spot for Ari, and Bryce was rightfully jealous of the effortless connection you share.

“Oh fuck, Ari! Please, you're gonna make me cum!” You cry, his pistoning movements becoming more erratic as he chases both of your highs, his pelvis grinding against your clit repeatedly with each thrust.

“Cum with me, pretty girl.” Ari growls into your ear, your admission only spurring him on. The coil in the pit of your stomach winding tighter with each stroke of his tip against the spongy spot inside you that makes your legs shake uncontrollably and blinding stars burn behind your eyes. The same spot Bryce was never able to find, yet Ari sought out so easily.

Euphoria takes over you for the second time with a strained cry of his name, ecstasy shivers down your spine and out to the endings of every nerve in your body. You feel like you’re floating on a cloud of pure bliss as Ari captures your moans in an ardent kiss.

Your soft walls squeeze him deliciously and contrast to the sharp sting of your nails raking down his back. It’s enough to push him over the edge with you.

“Holy shit, I’m cumming!” Ari announces before a deep, husky grunt rumbles from his chest. The muscles in his abdomen tense as he spills his large load deep inside you with a drawn out groan.

When Ari finally pulls out, he takes a moment to appreciate the sight of your mixed releases dripping from your core, before he dashes into his bathroom to fetch a warm, damp cloth to clean you up. You flinch at the sensation, your body oversensitive after the two mind blowing orgasms he pulled from you, but your heart soars at the thought in his gesture.

Once he’s done, Ari’s sweaty form lays down beside you, pulling you into him, gently kissing down your neck and over your shoulder. A shiver runs down your spine at how much tenderness each small kiss is filled with.

“You know, I’ve kinda had a thing for you ever since Bryce introduced us, but I’ve never been that guy who makes a move on someone else’s girl.” You flip over so you’re looking at him, his eyes search yours for a sign that he is more than a convenient one night stand and this meant more than just getting revenge on his dickhead roommate.

“Well, I’m no longer Bryce’s girl…” You point out, which is met with a smile.

“No, you’re mine now.”

* * *

Before going another round, one where Ari vows to finally taste you, you suggest grabbing some bottled water to keep hydrated. You’ll need to replenish your fluids if he plans on having his way with you the entire night and into the morning.

When you open the bedroom door, you see a familiar figure lounging on the couch.

“Oh, hey Bryce.” You say nonchalantly, feigning ignorance that you knew he lived here, though it is a welcome surprise to see him home so early from the party where he would have heard every sinful detail of your genuine climax with Ari minutes before, something he had never experienced in your four months together.

He simply stares at you, mouth agape and eyes wide in disbelief as you casually walk over to the kitchen au naturel. You make sure to sway your hips seductively as you return to Ari’s bedroom, giving him a view of exactly what he’s missing out on.

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unnuevosoltransformalarealidad · 1 month

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Drown In You

Summary: Ari might be your dad’s best friend but that’s not stopping him from taking you every chance he can get.

Pairing: DBF!Ari x Reader

Word Count: 4K.

Warnings: Age gap (reader is over 18, Ari is 40), Ari is 6'6", smut, public smut, oral (fem receiving), praise kink, major size kink, slight spanking, choking kink, dirty talk, jealous, possessive Ari.

A/N: Beta’d by the wonderful @maladaptivexxdaydreaming, @soldatsass & @offcast-plus1 . Divider by @maysdigitalarts.

|Masterlist|Ari Levinson Masterlist|Coffee|

A breeze, salt-tinged and warm, sweeps across your face, carrying the fresh scent of evergreen from the tall, majestic trees lining the beach. The wind catches the bottom of your dress, sending it fluttering around your legs; the lacy material sways back and forth, ballooning out in a sea of lavender, the urge to twirl like a ballerina seeps into your skin and you rise on your toes.

Hearing your name, you settle back on your heels and spin around with a carefree grin, and wave at your dad.

“Really?” your smile falters at the sight of him struggling to carry all his gear, his ‘tools for success’ as he calls them. The bottom of his prized grill is hooked under his arm, spatulas, and knives precariously balanced in his hand, bags of god knows what are flung over both shoulders, making him waddle from the strain of their weight as he approaches you.

You try not to laugh. You really do. But then, you see he’s carrying a bottle of seasoning between his teeth and you lose it. Your bright laughter travels across the beach in loud spurts, almost snorting despite your efforts to rein it in.

“Help please,” he mumbles around the dented container of the old bay.

Sprinting across the warm sand, you manage to catch a few bags before they hit the ground. “You know I would have helped, right?” You ask, nudging him with your shoulder. “Or you could have made two trips.”

Your dad throws you an offended look as he pushes the legs of the grill into the sand. “Two trips? You know we aren’t a two trip household.” He puffs his chest out with pride. “I made it, didn’t I?”

“Barely.” More laughter spills out. You take the knives from his hand and set them down on a plate you rummaged out of one of the bags by your feet.

“And I accept help all the time. I even let Ari grab the steaks.” He mutters distractedly, too busy analyzing his setup to notice your eyes widening; brows nearly hitting your hairline. “He’ll be here any minute.”

You almost choke on your spit. Hitting the top of your chest, you swallow a few times to clear your throat. “Excuse me,” you croak out, leaning down to snag a bottle of water.

“Oh yeah, I told him about our annual trip and the poor guy was going to spend the weekend all alone and I-” he cuts off, waving his arm in the air. “Ari, we’re down here!”

“He’s going to be here the whole weekend,” you whisper, anticipation coursing through you.

Seguir leyendo

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unnuevosoltransformalarealidad · 1 month

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A virgin at a sex store masterlist

Summary: Your great aunt bequeathed her fortune to you. Her successful store in town. Problem is – it’s a sex store and you are a virgin.

Pairing: AU!Dean x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, age gap (the reader is 25; Dean 34), shy reader, virgin reader, cocky Dean, teasing, smut, crack, fluff

A/N: So, get this. My best friend and I talked about her first time at a sex store when she turned 18. She was like the reader a virgin and got so nervous she ran out of the store. My friend wanted me to write a story about it but I made the reader 25 as I didn’t want Dean to be a creep and hit on a girl almost half his age.

Divider by @firefly-graphics

A virgin at a sex store (1) - New in business

A virgin at a sex store (2) - Tongue twister

A virgin at a sex store (3) - Sweet seducer

A virgin at a sex store (4) - Caring cuddler

A virgin at a sex store (5) - Breath stealer

A virgin at a sex store (6) - Panties burner

A virgin at a sex store (7) - Brain melter

A virgin at a sex store (8) - Good girl ruiner

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unnuevosoltransformalarealidad · 1 month

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Ladies With Experience

Paring(s): Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: When Dean makes an off-handed comment about "preferring ladies with experience", you try (and fail) to not let it get under your skin. You're a virgin, but you've done just about everything else, and when you talk to Dean about it, he offers to be your first. He's your best friend, and you've been in love with him forever... who are you to deny him?

Tags: smut, first time, virgin!reader, dom/sub dynamics, dom!dean, p in v, oral (female receiving), spanking, fingering, not-so-innocent reader

Word Count: 5k

A/N: As always, thank you to my loves @wayward-dreamer and @makeadealwithdean for beta-ing. Would be nowhere without you two 🥰

You can also read me on Ao3!

DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST | SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

“Anyways, let’s say you’re right, fine. Who would want virgins?”

You know Sam didn’t mean it like that , and you felt stupid for letting it bother you. For letting this case bother you.

“You got me,” Dean replied with a shrug. “I prefer ladies with experience.”

And there it was, like a punch straight to the gut. You hated that it hurt you as much as it did. So what, you’ve never had sex. But you’ve done almost everything else. You knew what you liked and what you didn't. You’ve been around the block a few times with the various sex toys in your nightstand drawer. It’s not like you weren’t experienced at all . But that didn’t make Dean’s words hurt any less. You swallowed down the burger and fries from lunch that were threatening to come up, before standing up from your seat at the small motel room table.

The brothers looked at you, eyebrows raised.

“I — bathroom,” you managed, before quickly making your way there, slamming the door shut behind you.

Staring at your reflection in the dirty bathroom mirror, you let the tears fall. Silently, you wiped them away as Dean’s words echoed in your head, and you hated that you loved him. Hated that you’d never be ballsy enough to admit it to him, especially now.

Something like five minutes passed and you knew you didn’t have long before one of the boys — likely Sam — would come knocking to check on you. You flushed the unused toilet so they wouldn’t suspect anything and turned on the faucet, splashing your tear-soaked face with cold water before using a hand towel to wipe it dry. When you emerged, the guys were packing up their duffels.

“Did you find them?” you asked, hopeful.

Dean checked his gun, before flipping the safety on and stuffing it in the back waistband of his jeans.

“I sure as hell hope so, ‘cause if I’m about to crawl through the goddamn sewers for nothing —”

“They’re down there, Dean,” Sam replied, giving him a pointed look. He turned his attention to you, and if he had noticed anything off, he hadn’t let his face show it. “You coming?”

You grabbed your gun off the dresser and holstered it in reply.

Six hours later, the three of you were sweaty, panting, and splattered in blood after a close fight with dragons in the sewers. Thankfully, you hadn’t had to wade in any actual sewage. You hadn’t said a word to either brother since you had gone to the bathroom six hours ago, and to keep them from growing suspicious of your sudden silence, you opted to take a nap in the backseat of the Impala on the way back to the motel.

You stirred awake as Dean pulled into the parking lot, barely conscious enough to catch the end of the brothers’ conversation.

“I’ll get her,” Dean said.

Sam nodded and got out of the car, gently closing the passenger side door before heading inside.

You rubbed your eyes, blinking away the sleep in them as Dean’s face came into focus. He was looking at you over his shoulder, one arm resting on the top of the front bench seat.

“Mornin’, sunshine.”

It took a moment for the feeling you had been filled with prior to your nap to come back to you, his words from earlier echoing in your head. I prefer ladies with experience . You shot him a cold glare.

“Alright. What’d I do?” he asked, turning in his seat to better angle himself towards you.

The question caught you off guard.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You haven’t said a word since we left for that hunt, Y/N.”

“How do you know Sam didn’t do something?”

He replied with a knowing look.

You stared at your hands, clasped together in your lap, and muttered, “It’s nothing. Stupid.”

“C’mon, talk to me,” he urged.

You hated this. How easy he was to talk to. How you had always been able to tell him what was on your mind.

But not this . You couldn’t tell him this.

You shook your head.

“Hey,” he said softly, shifting in his seat. He was fully turned around now, reaching out to tilt your chin up, forcing you to look at those green eyes. “Talk to me,” he repeated, no room for argument in his words.

“I can’t,” you whispered. You wanted to throw up. He was your best friend, and you were utterly, irrevocably, head-over-heels in love with him. He preferred girls with experience, and you had none. Not in the way that it mattered. And he had known that, thanks to a late-night stake-out game of Never Have I Ever .

His jaw clenched. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

You briefly met his gaze. You couldn’t hold it for long.

“Was it something I said?” he prodded.

You stared at the buttons of his open flannel, your eyes quickly darting up to meet his in silent confirmation.

He sighed, pulling his hand away from your face and folding his arms on top of the backseat, resting his chin on his forearm.

“Do I at least get a hint?”

“Dean, I —”

“C’mon, Y/N. You’ve never not told me anything.”

“Why are you pushing this?”

“Because I can’t stand not talking to you.”

Your heart leaped at that confession, however innocent it might have been.

“I’m talking to you now, aren’t I?”

“Because I’m making you. You would have silent treatmented me into next week.”

You didn’t respond.

He sighed again, defeated. “Y/N, c’mon. Please? Whatever I said, I’m sorry. I’m sure I didn’t mean it.”

“You didn’t mean that you ‘prefer girls with experience’?” you retorted quite sassily. The question tumbled out before you even had time to think of the implication that came with asking it.

Dean opened and closed his mouth like a damn fish.

“Thought so.” You began to move to make your way out of the car, when Dean reached out and grabbed your wrist.

“No,” he finally said. “I didn’t mean it.”

“It’s okay if you do. I told you, it was a dumb thing to be upset about.”

“No, it’s not. I didn’t stop to think about how this case might have been affecting you. You know I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you, right?”

You swallowed, nodded. His hand felt like fire around your wrist.

“But for what it’s worth, I wasn’t serious. I don’t prefer anyone one way or the other. Sex is sex. If anyone’s willing to have it with me, I consider myself lucky.”

“Romantic,” you quipped.

A smile tugged at his lips. “I could show you, y’know.”

You almost threw up right there in the backseat. Your eyes grew wide.

“What?” you croaked.

“Well, if you’re worried about not having any experience… I just mean I’d be happy to, y’know. Show you the ropes.”

“… Of sex?” Really, you thought it was cute that he had this misconception of you. You knew about the ropes. You’d just never been tied up with them.

“Of whatever you want.”

“You think I want to have sex with you?” It came out harsher than you meant it to, like part of you still thought you could hide the fact that you were in love with him. Like if you just joked it off it would go away, and you wouldn’t have to cross this line with him, even though you so badly wanted to. But you had to protect yourself, your heart.

You didn’t miss the flash of hurt in his eyes.

“No, that’s not what I —”

You suddenly felt the need to clarify your question.

“No, I — I didn’t mean it like that either.”

Dean’s face morphed into one of confusion. “…So you do want to have sex with me?”

Your cheeks flushed red, and your throat bobbed. “Uh…”

“Forget it, stupid question, you don’t have to an—”

“Yeah,” you answered, your voice barely above a whisper. Fuck it. Who were you to hold yourself back from the one thing you’ve been wanting for years? You cleared your throat. “Yeah, I really, really do.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Seriously?”

“Oh, cut the shit, Dean. Like you’re surprised. Everyone wants to have sex with you.”

He scoffed. “ Everyone , Y/N, really?”

“There are literally smutty fanfictions written about you,” you replied, reaching into your back pocket for your phone, dead set on proving your point.

“Gross. And Becky doesn’t count as everyone.”

“Actually, Becky only writes for Sam.”

You realized what you said at the same time he did, and he eyed you suspiciously.

“Why do you know that?”

God dammit. “I don’t. I mean — I — like, she obviously loves Sam. So, like, she wouldn’t write porn about you. Obviously.”

“Uh huh…” There was an uncomfortable silence for a beat or three. And then, “How much smut have you read about me?”

Your face felt like it had just been rinsed with fucking lava, and you knew it probably looked as red as it, too.

“None!” you exclaimed, way too quickly.

Dean smirked. “You do really wanna have sex with me,” he remarked, like he couldn’t believe it.

“Trust me, the urge is fading by the second.”

His grin disappeared almost instantly. “Would it help if I told you that I think about fucking you all the time, too?”

“Well, I don’t think about it all the —”

“Y/N.” He said your name like a warning, and the tone of his voice settled right in your core.

“Yeah,” you squeaked. “Yeah, that helps.”

“Good,” he smirked, before grabbing his phone from beside him.

“Uh… What are you doing?” You watched as he scrolled for a second, pressing a button before putting the phone to his ear.

“Telling Sammy to beat it.”

Your eyes grew wide. “What!?” you whisper-yelled. “No! Just — we can just do it back here!”

He gave you a pointed look. “I’m not taking your virginity in the backseat of my car, Y/N.”

“Why not!?”

“Because we’re not sixteen, for one. And for two… I wanna make it special.” He rushed the last bit out, like he was embarrassed to say it. And he should be. You cringed as you heard it.

“Oh my God,” you began.

“Shut up.”

“You did not just say that.”

“Shut up. Sam, answer your phone, God dammit!”

“I have done, like, almost everything else, you know. In the backseats of many, many cars. You don’t need to make it special for me, Deano,” you teased.

“For the last time, shut your mouth, or I’m gonna shut it for you,” he said, the look he gave letting you know he wasn’t in the mood to play. No, he wanted to fuck you. Beyond that, he wanted to dominate you. And you were more than happy to submit.

You might have been a virgin physically, but mentally? Mentally, you’d probably give Dean a run for his money.

Sam didn’t answer. Naturally. He was probably in the shower, but you were kind of grateful because as much as you wanted Dean, you didn’t want to make Sam uncomfortable. Or worse, give him any reason to give you the talk . Because he totally would. After trying his brother two more times, Dean decided it would be better to just get a room of your own, and you were much happier with that decision.

You watched as he unlocked the door, pushing it open and stepping aside, gesturing for you to go ahead.

“Ladies first.”

“You mean you’re not gonna carry me over the threshold?” you joked. “Thought you wanted to make this special .”

He gave you an unamused look, and you shot back a sarcastic closed-mouth smile before you were being swept off of your feet and over his shoulder faster than you could process.

“Dean!” you squealed, as he carried you through the doorway, kicking the door shut behind him before practically throwing you onto the bed.

He was hovering over you seconds later, his face a few inches from yours, and the mood shifted from playful to serious.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.

You nodded, your fingers coming up to play with the collar of his flannel.

“If I tell you something, you promise you won’t make fun of me?” you questioned, your eyes glued to the plaid pattern on his shirt.

“Promise.”

“I was kinda… holding out for you.” You drew your eyes up to meet his.

“Seriously?” he asked, half laughing. You could tell it wasn’t because he thought it was funny. It was because he couldn’t believe it.

You swallowed nervously, nodding again as you stared into those green eyes, and you hoped that this meant as much to him as it did to you. Something told you it did.

“I wasn’t kidding, you know,” he said.

You tilted your head in question.

“About making it special for you. I know it’s like, the grossest thing I could have possibly said but, you deserve so much better than me, and so if —”

“There’s no one better for me, you idiot.” And you almost told him everything. That you’ve been in love with him ever since you met one summer at Bobby’s, back when you were just kids. That everything felt like it led up to this moment. That you wanted him to fuck you and make love to you all at once. That you didn’t want this to be the only time he did. But instead, you grabbed his face in your hands and pulled him towards you, your lips meeting in a kiss that felt like it could have powered an entire country’s electric grid.

He deepened it, and the two of you were nothing but tongues and teeth and lips — it wasn’t sexy. It was hungry. Starved, more like. Like he had been thinking about kissing you just as long as you had been thinking about him.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling his hips down towards your denim-covered core, down until you felt the hardness underneath his jeans pressed up against the spot where you needed him most, down until you couldn’t help but grind against it. He moaned as he kissed you, so you did it again. And again. And again. And —

“You need to stop that.” It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a command. You noticed that your arms were above your head, his hands pinning your wrists against the mattress. You don’t know when that happened, but you weren’t complaining. In fact, it spurred you on.

You smiled mischievously and rutted against him once more.

“What’re you gonna do about it, Winchester?”

He dropped his forehead to yours, steadying his breaths.

“I can fuck you like it’s your first time, or I can fuck you how I actually want to.”

“And how’s that?”

He took a shaky breath, like he was actually having a hard time controlling himself. You felt a sense of pride shoot through you at that.

“Like the fucking brat you are.”

You almost came from that alone.

Wanna know some common misconceptions about virgins? That they don’t have kinks. That they don’t watch porn. That they don’t have a plethora of sex toys in their nightstand. That they sit and crochet in their convent dorm room all day. Sure, you were years past the age when girls typically lose their virginity, but you were no saint. In fact, you enjoyed being quite the opposite. And you enjoyed being put in your place.

“Do your worst.”

It was like something in him snapped. His eyes were lust-blown and hungry and you didn’t miss the way his jaw ticked, and then he was undressing you so fast that you could’ve been part of a quick change act. He muttered something about a light system as he took off your clothes, and you nodded in a way that let him know that you already knew how all of that worked.

When you were down to just a black lace bra and panties, he paused as his fingers hooked under your waistband. He stared at you, his expression serious, and you knew that he was going to give you one more warning. One more opportunity to say, “Actually, I’d like to have a totally normal, non-kinky, first time experience, please.” But that wasn’t what you wanted.

“You sure you know what you’re asking for?”

You rolled your eyes. “I trust you. Put me in my goddamn place, Winchester. You’ve only been wanting to do it for the past two hours.”

“Oh, I’ve been waiting to do it for a lot longer than that, sweetheart.”

“Really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, yeah,” he replied, huffing a small laugh before pulling off your panties in one swift motion. His hands came to rest on your bare thighs as he locked his eyes with yours. “Any hard limits?”

You shook your head. “I trust you. I mean, like, don’t pee on me or —”

“Not gonna happen. But… most everything else?”

“Dean,” you began, looking at him pointedly, “I trust you. If it helps, I’ve used like, toys on myself before. And I don’t mean just a vibrator, I mean like… well, you get the gist.”

“So I don’t have to go easy on you, is what you’re saying?”

“Put me in my place,” you repeated.

“Alright,” he replied, his hands gripping the underside of your thighs as he roughly pushed them apart, “but just so we’re clear, that’s the last order you’ll be giving tonight.”

Your throat bobbed and you nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

You meant it as a joke, but it didn’t come out that way. No, the title came out in a way that made his jaw clench and his eyes darken and it stoked the fire raging in your core.

Dean didn’t waste any more time talking after that, his tongue moving through your folds seconds later, drawing gasps and soft moans from your lips. You arched into him, your hands in his hair, silently begging for more. It wasn’t the first time a man had gone down on you, but it was the first time it felt like this .

He pinned your hips down to the bed with one hand splayed over your abdomen and then his tongue was inside you and “eating you out” didn’t come close to describing his ministrations. He was devouring you like his life depended on it, like the sounds you were making were a goddamn Zeppelin song that he wasn’t anywhere near done listening to. And then he added a finger, and then another, and it didn’t matter how many times you had imagined him doing this while you had your own fingers inside you — nothing would have prepared you for how good the real thing felt.

“Oh — fuck,” you gasped, and he chuckled into your sex and you had to actively think about not coming on his face and ending this whole experience early.

“You’re close,” he observed, flicking his tongue over your clit as he continued to pump his fingers in and out, and it was so fucking hot how he just knew that. It was like he had been fucking you for years, the way he knew your body, your tells.

You nodded. “Mmhm,” you confirmed, unable to form words with the way the coil in your abdomen was tightening.

“Hold it,” he ordered.

Your eyes shot open, because it wasn’t the command you were expecting, and you tried to lift your head to shoot him a cold glare but you couldn’t. And he just kept pumping, flicking, licking, chuckling — fucking asshole.

“Mm — fuck — please!” you cried out.

“When you come tonight, it’s gonna be on my cock. So hold it.”

You didn’t think you could. You had played this game with yourself and your vibrator and your self-control was majorly lacking and God his mouth and fingers felt so fucking good and you were there, the coil wound so goddamn tight, it would take nothing for you to let it snap, and then —

He stopped.

He pulled his mouth away from your core, his fingers out of your pussy, and you were writhing underneath him, because you had been right there and you needed him to be touching you again right the fuck now.

You whined.

He spanked your pussy. Not hard or anything, just enough to see if it was okay with you, and fuck, was it.

“Stop whining,” he demanded. He positioned himself so he was hovering over you again, his face inches away from yours as he stared into your eyes. “Or I’ll give you something to whine about.”

You were curious as to what that something would be, but sensed that right now wouldn’t be the best time for that question. You nodded instead.

“Good girl.” He smiled when he said it, like he knew exactly what those two words would do to you.

You squirmed underneath him, it had been too long since he’d last touched you. Too long being thirty seconds at most, but still. It had felt like hours.

“Has anyone ever told you,” he began, dipping his head to place a soft kiss on your collarbone, “that you are very,” another kiss to the other side, “very,” one more to the middle of your chest, “impatient?” He slowly pulled down the left cup of your bra, your breast spilling out of it. “Makes me wanna take my time.”

His eyes stayed glued to yours as his head moved down to your hardened nipple, taking it into his mouth at a goddamn snail’s pace. You arched your back, and he let you this time, chuckling at how easy it was to make your body react. His other hand slipped underneath you, unclasping your bra in a way that reminded you that he had a lot of experience doing so, and you refused to water the seed of jealousy that had sprouted from the thought. It didn’t matter that he had done this a million times. All that mattered was that he was doing it now, with you.

He pulled your bra off and threw it haphazardly over his shoulder, and you were suddenly very aware of the fact that you were completely naked, and he still had 87 fucking layers on, the outermost of which was still speckled with dragon blood, and it’s not that you were anywhere near clean, but you certainly didn’t want those clothes touching your bare skin.

“Dean?” you rasped, and he pulled away from your nipple to give you his full attention.

“You okay, sweetheart? Do you want to st—”

“No! God, no. It’s just —” you sighed, exasperated. This was dumb. You were going to stop him for this? Your eyes landed on a spot of blood on the shoulder of his flannel. Yes, yes you were, because that’s gross. “It’s just that your clothes are covered in monster blood and I’m like, totally naked, and I don’t want —”

He chuckled like you were the most adorable thing he’d ever seen. “I gotchya, baby.”

Baby. Baby ? You tried not to overthink the pet name as he climbed off the bed to take his clothes off, watching you the entire time. Sweetheart, you’d been called a million times. He called everyone sweetheart. But baby? Baby was his car, and no one else. Unless, that’s what you were to him now. His, and no one else’s. You filed the thought away under “Things to Think About After You Lost Your Virginity to Dean Winchester”.

He was in nothing but his boxers now, his cock already hard underneath them, and you bit your lip as he hooked his thumbs under the waistband and slid them off. And then, there he was, exactly like you’d imagined him but also better, because this was real and happening. You gaped at him, at his size. He wasn’t any bigger than the fake one you had in your nightstand, but that one was nine inches and you could never fit it all the way in. He was perfect. All of him.

“You okay?” he asked again, crawling back onto the bed.

“Mhm,” you managed, gulping.

He was on top of you again, his forearm holding up his weight as his free hand came to grab your thigh, hooking it over his hip and leaning down to kiss you. You could feel him against your core, his cock moving between your folds as he moved his hips, teasing you with it.

“Dean,” you breathed.

“Hm?”

“I want…” you couldn’t find it in yourself to finish your request.

“I know, sweetheart,” he whispered.

You decided you liked “baby” better.

“Please.”

“I thought you wanted me to put you in your place?”

You shook your head. “N-next time. Just, please .”

His eyebrows shot up, and you realized what you had said.

“Next time, huh?” he asked, with that shit-eating grin of his.

You rolled your eyes. He stopped moving, the smile wiped off his lips as he gripped you underneath your chin, somewhere between rough and gentle, the look on his face telling you he wasn’t messing around.

“Roll your eyes at me again, and next time I’ll really do my worst.”

You bit back a smile, and you just knew he was thinking, Brat. But you asked your question anyway.

“But not this time?” There was a devilish gleam in your eyes. You were tempting him, and he knew it.

“Do you ever get tired of being such a brat?”

“Dunno,” you shrugged. “Do you ever get tired of it?”

His jaw tensed, and he forced a sardonic, closed-lip smile. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Hm. But not this time, right?”

“Y/N —” he warned.

“Afraid you’re gonna hurt me? Scare me? What’s really keeping you from putting me in my place… Sir?”

For the second time that night, something in him snapped. You yelped as he flipped you over and grabbed your hips, dragging them upwards so your ass was in the air and your chest was on the mattress. Four hits to your cheeks came down in quick succession, and when you reached your hand behind you to block them, it was quickly pinned to the small of your back. Three more hits followed, accompanied by a pathetic, “Ow!” from your lips.

“Color?” he questioned roughly.

“So fucking green,” you replied, dazed.

Seven more hits followed, each one harder than the last, and you didn’t think there was anything better than the sting you were feeling right now. There was nothing more you wanted than for him to mark you up like this.

“Fuck, you’re dripping,” he commented. Five more hits.

“Oh, fuck!” you cried out at the last hit, one that felt like it reverberated through your entire body. One that definitely left a handprint behind.

“Yeah, but you like it, don’t you?” It was a rhetorical question. He spanked you four more times. “You just wanted me to mark you up, is that it? Think of me every time you sit down for the next few days, hm?” Three more.

“Mmph!” Your cries were muffled by the comforter.

“Yeah, I can tell. Look at this fucking mess.” He dragged his fingers through your soaked folds. “Jesus Christ,” he said under his breath, and then he was flipping you back over. He nestled himself between your legs, his tip teasing your entrance. His expression softened as he stared into your eyes. “Are you sure?”

You nodded. “Yeah,” you replied breathily.

He slid into you slow and easy, your mouth open in a silent moan as he bottomed out.

“Good?” he asked.

“So fucking good.”

When he started to move, you thought you were going to die. In a good way. In a way that made you decide right there and then that when the time did come, this was how you wanted to go out.

“Harder,” you encouraged, and he obliged. “Faster.”

He was properly fucking you now. Hard and fast and dirty. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, your heels digging into his ass, forcing him to go deeper. His head was buried in your neck, your nails were clawing up his back, and the room was filled with moans and pants and expletives that put a sailor’s mouth to shame.

“Shit, baby,” he panted into your neck. “God damn, you feel good. So fucking tight.” He sped up his thrusts, and the bed was squeaking so much that you thought it was going to fall apart underneath you, but you were too far gone to care. He reached a hand down in between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit, circling it expertly. You were on the precipice of your release in seconds. And then —

“Come. Soak that fucking cock, baby. Come for me.”

And you screamed loud enough to get both you and him kicked out of the motel if they cared enough as your orgasm ripped through you. He fucked you through it, his pace only faltering moments later, right before he pulled out and painted your stomach white. It looked like a Jackson Pollock on your abdomen. Kinda hot, actually.

“You okay?” Dean asked, looking down at you as he finally caught his breath.

“More than,” you smiled.

He mirrored the look on your face before crawling off the bed and heading to the bathroom. He came back moments later with a damp washcloth, gently cleaning his masterpiece off of your skin. When he was done, he threw it across the room, aiming for the bathroom, and it landed on the tile in front of the toilet. He laid down next to you, pulling you into his chest as he pressed a soft kiss into your hair, and you wanted to ask so many questions, all at once. What were you two now? How long had he been wanting this? Would there be a next time? Instead, you opted for —

“You know in fanfictions, they write you as a submissive most of the time.”

He snorted. “They’re half right.”

“A switch?” you asked, surprised. “Lucky me.”

He chuckled softly. “Sorry about your ass.”

You shrugged. “I was asking for it.”

“Oh, you were definitely asking for it. Still, I… I dunno. It was your first time, I didn’t want to get too —”

“It was perfect, Dean.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded, smiling, dozing off already. “Yeah.”

2K notes · View notes

unnuevosoltransformalarealidad · 1 month

Text

All the Difference

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous and Anonymous (I combined to similar requests)

Synopsis: The brothers help you through one of your frequent migraines.

Warnings: migraines, pain, honestly it’s mostly fluff. I’m no expert on migraines but I had a few in high school so I’m going off that experience, there could be some mistakes.

You went to the library of the bunker with a familiar sense of foreboding. It had started with your vision, as it always did. An annoying little spot at the corner of your eyes that was oddly blurry. It continued like that for nearly half an hour, and after that was when the pain started.

“Hey, how’d you sleep?” Sam greeted as you entered the library. His jovial tone dropped when he saw the look on your face. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“It’s happening again,” you mumbled, coming to stand in front of your brother.

“Does it hurt yet?” He asked gently, reaching out and grabbing your hands.

“Only a little,” you sighed. But it would get worse, it always did.

“Do you want to try and sleep?” Sam asked, his thumbs brushing over the back of your hands.

You shook your head.

“You wanna eat something?”

Another shake.

“Hey guys,” Dean greeted much too loudly, and Sam frowned when he saw you flinch.

“Easy man,” he chided. “She’s got a migraine.”

“Sorry,” Dean all but whispered. “How bad is it?”

“I think it’s gonna be a bad one,” you said gloomily. Bad migraines could last for days; you were in for a rough week.

“Alright, c’mon,” Dean said, grabbing his jacket.

“What?” You frowned up at him.

“No use just sitting around waiting for it to get worse. Let’s go for a drive.”

…

Dean reclined your seat before stepping back to let you get in. You did without argument, and Dean ran around the front to his own seat. The roar of the engine should’ve made you flinch, but despite how loud it was there was something comforting about the familiar sound.

Dean turned on the radio, but to your surprise it wasn’t his head-banging Metallica; instead he had one of your favorite songs, turned down low enough that it didn’t bother you.

Neither of you spoke as Dean pulled away from the bunker and started down the open road. You didn’t have to. He was humming softly to your songs, and you were relaxing in the passenger seat, lulled by Baby’s gentle purr and the soft music. Your migraine was steadily getting worse, and every bump on the road had you cringing, but all-in-all it was better than sitting in the artificial light of the bunker, moping and waiting for it to get worse.

Eventually, though, the bumps became unbearable, and so did the sunlight creeping over the hood of the Impala and reflecting past your eyes and straight into your head, like it was shining onto your migraine itself.

“Dean?” You mumbled finally, and he hummed in acknowledgement. “Can we go back now?”

“You ok?” He asked even as he swung the Impala into a U-turn.

“Hurts.” You brought your hands up to cover your eyes, but it didn’t help.

“Ok it’s ok, we’re not far, just hang in there.”

Dean lowered the volume on the radio even more, and you could tell he was taking extra care to miss the potholes lining the road. He pulled out his phone and made a call.

“Hey, Sammy? Yeah we’re headed back now. Blackout.”

“Blackout” meant that Sam would turn off all the lights in the bunker, except for some candles or dim lights to see by. You always told your brothers that they didn’t have to do it; you could always just hibernate in your room. But they wanted the whole bunker migraine-friendly whenever you were in pain, so they did it anyway.

“You doin’ ok over there?” Dean asked after he hung up. You nodded, unwilling to speak as your head pounded.

“Ok, well I want you to drink some water when we get back to the bunker. I know that won’t make it go away, but it can’t hurt either.”

You knew arguing would be futile, and you didn’t have the energy to do it anyway.

When you got back to the bunker, you waved you hand blindly for the car door, hesitant to open your eyes. You didn’t have to; your door opened up without your aid, and Dean was there, lifting you into his arms.

“It’s my head that’s broken, not my legs,” you protested even as you relaxed against your brother’s shoulder.

“Shut up,” Dean replied, and the rumble of his voice in his chest felt oddly good against your aching forehead. “I’m gonna take you to the couch, ok?”

Your head hurt too much for words or even a nod, so you just let silence be your assent.

Dean carried you into the bunker and straight to the couch, and you had to admit that it was nice without the glaring lights on.

Dean had you on the couch with your favorite fluffy blanket over you in record time, and a few minutes later he had you surrounded by water bottles as though they were guards protecting you.

“I’ve gotta head to the library and catch up on some lore,” he said finally. “So it’s Sam’s turn to play nursemaid for a while.”

“You don’t have to—“ you started, but Dean was already gone, and within minutes Sam arrived to take his place, a steaming bowl in his hands.

“I know you don’t want food,” he said before you could speak. “But you should probably get something in you, so I brought you some broth. Think you can handle that?”

You nodded wearily, hesitant to sit up. You were getting hungry, but the last thing you wanted was to give your stomach something to reject later.

“Alright.”

You groaned as Sam put a hand behind your back and lifted you to sit up.

“Yeah yeah,” he said, not sounding quite as pitying anymore. “You gotta sit up to eat.”

This brought a tiny smile to the corner of your lips, but it dropped fast as your head pounded in retribution for your movements. At your wince, Sam frowned.

“Sorry, honey,” he said softly.

“Not your fault,” you mumbled, making grabby hands for the bowl in his hands.

Once you had about half the bowl finished, you offered it back to Sam and he took it, satisfied enough.

He set it on the side table before coming to sit next to you on the couch.

“I was gonna lay there,” you protested.

“I know,” Sam said, lifting his giant hand up to pull your head down. Cradling the back of your head, he lowered you slowly to lay down, your head resting in his lap. Your eyes fluttered closed as your big brother ran his fingers feather-light through your hair.

After a few minutes, his hands left your hair, and you peaked one eye open to see him straining for a book on the bookshelf. He reached it and pulled it back, and you closed your eyes again as Sam cracked it open, before continuing to brush his fingers through your hair.

He started to read aloud, his voice loud enough so you didn’t have to strain but quiet enough that it felt soothing.

You appreciated this more than just about anything; screens were a definite no during migraines, and there were very few things that you could do to keep yourself from going insane with boredom when your head hurt too much to sleep.

That was how the whole afternoon was spent; at some point you and maybe even Sam dozed off before continuing, but for the most part he spent his whole afternoon reading to you.

After a dinner of some more reheated broth, Dean emerged from the library and came to sit with you and Sam.

“Hey sweetheart,” Dean greeted. “How we doing?”

“We have a migraine,” you mumbled sarcastically.

“Oh really?” Dean quipped as he lifted your legs, sitting on the couch and then lowering your legs back down and into his lap.

“Not funny,” you huffed even as you made yourself comfortable.

The three of you lapsed into a comfortable silence for the rest of the night. Neither of the brothers went to their beds, and they didn’t offer to bring you to yours either; they knew that you wanted to be with them when you were hurting. You were certain that you could live through a million more migraines as long as you had your big brothers.

Sam taking time out of his busy life to relax with you and distract you from the pain for a bit was the best thing he could do for you. The same was true with Dean taking you out in Baby.

Though nothing they did could take away your pain, they did everything they could to make sure you could still have good times between the pain, and that made all the difference in the world.

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