pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her, use of the word girl)
rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.)
word count: 7.6k
requested: yes
summary: “Joel was a mean, mean man. and you eat it up like a woman starved for months.”
warnings: mentions of food/eating, drinking alcohol, age gap (unspecified), Jackson era, Ellie gets a splinter, Joel is honestly rude to Ellie in this and reader is judgy about Joel’s parenting practices lol. but really, this is just filthy smut (PiV, unprotected), dirty talk, sir kink, use of the word slut a LOT, one use of the word bitch, humiliation/degradation, hints of masochism, choking, exhibitionism, public smut, rough sex, dom!Joel, mean joel, lots of fighting/anger, cumplay, dirty talk, ass spanking, pussy spanking, mentions of blood (reader gets scraped knees), throat/facefucking, rough oral (m!receiving), overstimulation, dacryphilia, multiple orgasms. lmk if i missed any please lmfao
notes: okay jesus fucking christ!!! i wrote this so fasst lol but it was fun and highly requested. hope yall like it. as always reblogs/asks/comments are always great motivations :’) this is not reread because as i have said before im lazy and INSANE!
[this is a sequel to Mr Miller. other Joel fics: fever landmines ]
★
this was a mistake. you shouldn’t have done this….this was a terrible idea.
i saw his fingers in this gif and diED so enjoy this
**gif not mine
Part 2 to There You Go [can be read as a standalone, p1 is not crucial to this!]
a/n: this is dirtyyy bc i love you smut sluts & i want to feed into ur dirty desires hehehe. also there’s more spacing than normal between paragraphs bc i’m not editing on my computer, so i hope it’s not an issue!! ok i’ll let you read now ♡ enjoy :)
warnings: smut (minors dni), rough + light fingering, fluffy!joel, squirting (sorry guys it's just so fun to write about hehe), dirty talk, praise, slight (?) degradation, overstimulation, male ejaculation, cursing duh, multiple orgasms, narrator slightly objectifying herself :)))) lots of pet names & quite a bit of “good girls”
wc: 3k
My eyes flutter open when I feel fingers tracing the side of my face and though my first instinct is to move away from the body beneath me I smell the familiar scent of Joel and calm down. I look up at him and watch a smile spread across his face.
“Mornin’, pretty girl,” he gruffly says while still tracing my skin. “How’d you sleep?”
I plant a soft kiss on his clothed shoulder and sit up a little bit. His eyes are wider than usual and his normally flat cheekbones are poking high and bright, a sheer layer of red coating them.
“I slept fine. Why didn’t you wake me up for second watch, asshole?” I poke his arm and reach behind his head to take a drink of his water.
“Well, I shook you a couple of times, but you just pushed my face away and held me tighter,” he laughs.
“Mmm, you didn’t shake me hard enough then because I wake up easy as a lemon squeeze.”
“No, I didn’t try that hard to wake you up… You looked like you could use the sleep the way I wore you out yesterday,” he teases with a smug grin, his eyes still wide like he is in awe of me.
“Fuck off,” I chuckle. “Your ass woulda been wore out had you not been so damn stubborn, not letting me do any of the work.”
“Don’t act like it upset you… Being cared for.”
“It didn’t upset me… Just means I have to outdo you now.”
Joel lets out a belly laugh and I sit up completely. I stare at his salt and pepper beard while his eyes trail down to my blue tank top, and he looks up at me as if to ask permission but without waiting for an answer his hand rests on my ribcage and his thumb flattens over my perky nipple. I sharply inhale and my lips part wide enough to let his cock in if he wanted, Lord knows I do.
“This okay?” He asks softly.
I only nod, afraid that if I speak my voice will crack from how tense my body is getting.
“Yeah?” He whispers, kissing my shoulder before moving from the side of me to sit up behind me. “Come sit between my legs, baby.” I listen to his instructions and press my back to his chest, earning a kiss on my cheek from his supple lips. “You know… You really shouldn’t sleep half naked…“
“Because of danger?” I sarcastically tease.
“That too… But if I were to wake you up last night it wouldn’t have been for watch.” His hands roam around my chest and stomach roughly and his cock begins pressing against the small of my back. I try to reach for it but his grip remains firm on me as he whispers, “Let me take care of you again, baby girl.”
I choose not to argue out of being mentally drained from how much sleep I got. I figure I’d need the mental stamina later on.
“Can you take your panties off for me?” Joel coos against the lining of my ear, softly nibbling on it as I obey him. “Mmkay, now spread your legs for me. Good girl.”
He loops his legs through my open ones to ensure I can’t close them and his feverish hand spreads across the peak of my tummy, inching towards my throbbing vulva which is definitely soaking the blanket beneath us. He sucks hard on the curve of my neck making me ache to turn around and ride him then and there, but his “good girl” keeps replaying in my head and I’d do anything to hear him say it again. Even if it means depriving myself of pleasure for just a little longer.
“Soft or hard?” He asks gently, almost as if he were afraid his words would break me.
I hum and throw my head back to his broad shoulder. “Why not both?” I flirt.
His eyelashes tickle my jaw from his blinking and he skips his hand past my clit to curl over inside of me. I cry out his name instantaneously, feeling his smooth fingertips press against my swollen g-spot every few seconds. With my nails digging into his hairy thighs and my legs squeezing around his calves, I look at him. I don’t know what I’m looking for but when I find his eyes narrow and lustful I can’t resist turning my head and slipping my tongue into his wet mouth.
His thick digits slip out of me to spread my soaked lips; he drags the buds of his fingers up and down the inside of my folds, shoving his tongue deeper into my mouth and drinking every moan I let out. His fingers spread to either side of my clit giving me goosebumps and his other hand snakes its way to fondle one of my breasts over my top. I lean my back into his hard cock to give him some tension release and he pulls his head up from mine to watch me as he begins his work.
He watches my eyebrows furrow when he starts to rub little circles over my swollen clit. He watches my eyes squeeze shut and open wide. He watches my throat swallow at how good he’s making me feel. He watches my heaving body fight the grip he has on mine.
He watches me like I’m his favorite movie.
He couldn’t have been rubbing my clit any longer than five minutes when my knees tighten against his legs when my climax swims through my stomach and swallows me whole. Neither of us had words, I just paw at his arms and trust his body to hold all of my weight. His breaths pour over my neck and he chooses to be gentle and slowly ease up on me so that I can have a full orgasm without the overstimulation.
Joel takes a few moments while I catch my breath to rub his calloused palms around my thighs and belly, sharing a few more kisses with me.
I open my eyes softly to smile as I give him a butterfly kiss which he took as an invitation to shove his fingers inside of me again; I focus on how it feels to have his fingers reach as far as the angle would let him, noting how it stung a bit being stretched out by just two of his fingers but feels so sweet at the same time. I let out a high-pitched moan when he rubs tiny circles on my g-spot, occasionally pushing it up.
His free arm wraps itself above my chest and squeezes me in closer to his big frame before asking, “That feel good?”
“Mm-hmm,” is all my body would let me say.
He pulls his fingers out, lands a firm smack on my clit, and then inserts his fingers inside of me again. My eyes screw shut at the mix of pain and pleasure and my chest heaves from my deep gasps. He grunts and starts to finger me so fast I could barely process when his fingers were actually moving. I watch him drill in and out of my sore pussy, grimacing at how overwhelmingly hard he’s fucking me with his perfect hands.
“You like that?” He whispers against the back of my head. “You’re such a good girl. You get so wet for me. You want daddy a’take care a’you? Hmm?” My thighs tremble at his filthy words, more so at his repetition of good girl. I dig my nails into his skin, waiting for ecstasy to engulf me again. “My pretty girl giving all of her sweet cum to me? That’s my girl.” There’s something about the way he talks to me that sounds…different. He speaks with certainty, but his tone is still asking for permission from my body.
The cocky son of a bitch knows the effect he has on me and could use my obedience to only please himself, but instead, he just gives me that sappy little look with his heavy eyes like he doesn’t suspect a thing about the way I feel for him.
He likes to pay attention to me and every muscle I move, hoping to read me like a book. Somehow he can tell that my leg is locking up from another orgasm rising as opposed to being uncomfortable. That’s what I love about Joel: how even on his darkest days he still managed to find enough light for me. He never forgets about me, and how to tend to my needs, and I’m noticing the same applies especially during sex.
“J—oh, fuck… Joel,” I stutter.
“What is it, doll? Talk to me.”
“I’m gonn—oh! I’m gonna cum f—for you.”
Joel nods against my damp head, somehow keeping the speed of his arm up. “Show me how pretty that cum is,” he grunts. “Fuck. You take it so good, sweetheart.”
While squeezing his thighs my back painfully arches off of him and I am just waiting, craving that final rub that sends me to the calmest parts of my mind.
Suddenly all of the tension that mounted inside of me explodes. I cry out his name as if it was my dying breath and his fingers keep reaching into me for more of my juices. He slides his digits as far up as they could go before curling them against my sweet spot, trying to gain as much depth as my body would allow.
“I can’t! I c-an’t, Jo—Joel!” I beg. My arms and legs fight him, but he remains as still as a mountain against me. “Please, Joel, I can’t take anymore!” The passion and pleasure turn into just aching, but he doesn’t give up despite my pleas. I close my eyes just when he speaks up again.
“Just a little longer, it’ll feel good again, I promise.” He pecks my cheek and rubs my chest to calm my breath. “I know you got it in you, doll, just need you to relax.”
“It’s too much,” I breathe out tiredly. The pain inside of me subsides, but from where his fingers are curving there is this wave of shocks rising to the surface of my clit. Pressure increases in my pelvis as his pace slows but his force strengthens. I wipe some of the sweat off of my forehead and slightly adjust my body against his; I wonder how he knows exactly what to do and how to do it. I couldn’t even begin to know how to make myself feel this on edge to where the pain was worth it, but Joel did it effortlessly. He knows the inside of me better than myself and knows how to make me crave the pain because with him I know it’ll always be worth it.
“I want you to cum for me again, baby,” he desperately begs while taking his other hand to rub large circles on my clit, “give me that pretty pussy. I need you to cum for me again. Don’t hold back. Just give it all to me, mmm, fuck, give it all. To. Me.”
I fold, caving my body to him and shuddering at the love taps he gives inside of me. His movements send shivers up my spine and then back down like a seesaw.
I hear my pussy squelch around his thick fingers and a gush of water makes my eyes pop open to see what it was, but I felt it before I saw it; his pads looping around my clit paired with his fingers inside of me had built up so much more than just cum.
Once he sees me squirting himself he lays all four of his fingers flat and taut, rubbing side to side over the bud to get my stream to splash everywhere — and I mean everywhere. I managed enough squirt to cover both of our legs and the blanket beneath us. I can’t even feel his fingers anymore as my body slowly numbs itself, but my orgasm wouldn’t stop which made me sink further into the bed and I ended up squirting all over my chest and face. I flinch and close my eyes, repeatedly smacking his arm to tell him I tap out once tears leave my eyes from the overwhelming state my body is currently in. I scream at an embarrassingly high volume but he doesn’t seem to mind. No, he loves it.
He laughs loudly and removes his fingers from inside of me, but not the ones on top of me. His rubbing slows down as does my gushing, but a little bit still comes out in short intervals. My hair is glued to my forehead and cheeks and my eyelids are stuck halfway down my pupils.
After a few more seconds he completely lets my core breathe, using his stocky hands to carefully push my hair from my face so that he could admire his work. I take a few seconds to breathe and twist my face to look up at him, and my goodness does he look happy to see me like this. He beams down at me before placing a smooch on my upper lip.
“You did so good, baby doll.”
“You got me all wet,” I pout wiping my lips dry.
Nodding shamelessly his hand finds its way back to my clit. “Lemme get one more outta you, just look at me, baby girl, mmkay?”
I suck on my bottom lip nervously and wrap my arm around his neck. “Mhm, anything you say,” I hum. To be honest I’m too tired to argue with him, and I love how he has his way with me. “I’ll do anything for you, Joel.”
He presses his fingers to my swollen clit, dragging them down to my opening and slowly pushing inside of me. He rigs his fingers to explore the forgotten parts of me craving to memorize every ridge along my walls. I gasp when his middle fingers reach past my sweet spot, clenching tight enough around him to hear more of my cum squish out of me.
“Such a pretty girl,” he moans, gasping with me when he slides against a curve inside of me.
His bushy eyebrows pinch together tightly at the sight of me curling up in his arms. I manage to move one of my outstretched legs back to the center of his legs, opting to hold it up by my head for comfort. He continues exploring my peaks and valleys, calling me all sorts of pretty names.
“Your fingers feel so good,” I coo, maintaining eye contact with him.
He tilts his head up in admiration and rewards me by touching me where I needed him the most. “You look so pretty when you cum, mnh,” he grunts. I feel his cock pressing against my back again, throbbing hard against his zipper. “I love feeling you squeeze around my fingers, you do so well for me, you love it don’t you?”
I give him a desperate nod, pushing myself harder against his warm strain. “I fucking love the way you fuck me, Joel.”
“Yeah?”
“I love the way you take care of me.”
He watches my needy body spasm for him, practically drooling over me. “You came all over yourself just for me?” I nod at his question. “Look at you… All wet and soaked for me,” he says before pausing to remove his fingers and squeeze my cheeks in his cum-covered hand. “You crying from how hard I made you cum?” He says like he was pretending to feel bad for me. “Awe you crying for me? …You poor thing.”
The way he shook my head a little when he said that—you poor thing—I can’t even compare this feeling to anything in this entire fucking world. My chest rises and falls harder than ever at his borderline degradation, and again I obnoxiously whine at his fingers entering me again. With another climax rising, his raspy voice whispering in my ear, and his throbbing cock aching beneath me, I couldn’t help but let the feeling consume me again.
“Mnh-mnh, look at me, baby,” he tells me; I open my eyes back up and watch the muscles in his face relax and then tense up again. “Look at me when you cum. I need you to cum for me again.”
I hiss when his pace quickens, leaving me feeling so stuffed with his fingers I couldn’t even make a single noise from how good it feels. I feel my orgasm finally explode and he does me a favor by continuing to talk.
His wet lips press to my cum-soaked face and he whimpers again my skin. “You poor little thing. You’re so fucking helpless right now, look at’cha.” His lips form an ‘o’ when a moan finally escapes my mouth. “You look so pretty… Cumming ‘round my fingers like that. Mm, I feel you cumming, princess, just give it all to me. Give it all to me.”
My walls push against his fingers as my discharge pours out of me. I feel so lightheaded from all the orgasms he’s given me back to back and my vision is hazy. I feel him smile against me, moaning when he spread my slit open before rubbing a few gentle circles on my clit.
I hear him whisper a few curse words as though he were troubled, so I peer my eyes open and look at him. “Everything alright?”
“Yeah, yeah, I just…”
I feel his cock throb harder than before against my back and I smile once I realize what happened.
“Don’t—“
“You came in your pants?!” I tease, laughing boastfully.
“Yeah, well you pissed on yourself,” he mumbles begrudgingly.
“Only a little.”
He watches me blow some dripping liquid off of my face, smirking as it continues dripping down my chin. “Mhm.” He gives me a sweet kiss and helps me stand up. I stretch my legs out and let him peel off my shirt before handing me a rag to wipe myself clean. “You look beautiful today.”
I scoff. “You’re just saying that.”
“No… I’m not.” He gives me one of his shirts and lays me back down, kneeling in front of my tired face.
I snicker and giggle like a child. “Can’t believe I made you cum without even touching you.”
summary: while Joel drives, you take care of a desperate need. he doesn’t take kindly to the distraction.
warnings: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader. smut. joel’s hands. fem masturbation. fingering & pussy spanking galore. dirty talk. squirting. no beta.
word count: 1.8k
author’s note: look, i wrote this solely because i want this man to bruise my pussy with his massive hands.
☽ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♁ 𝐎𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞'𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ☾
The scenery is always the same. Unkempt trees, winding roots, and utter devastation. It was tiring looking out the car window passing by the same chaos every day. Joel wasn’t any help as he mostly kept to himself and focused on the task at hand, driving out west to look for Tommy.
Your only saving grace was being able to occasionally gaze at the older man. Living in the QZ for almost two decades left him ravaged. Hard lines permanently etch his forehead as gray has overgrown most of his hair.
𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | beefy frat!rugby player!Ari Levinson x nerd!reader
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | established relationship, size difference: 6’8!Ari. SMUT - minors DNI, rimming (f), spanking, dirty talk, daddy kink, dumbification, hint of dacryphilia, size kink, wet and messy.
𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | You’ll always be his number one fan.
𝗪/𝗖 | 741
𝗔/𝗡 | hi besties, here’s a drabble from this poll, i didn’t list it but wrote it anyway shh. There’s no masterlist for this au, everything is under #thick frat boy ari and drabbles are linked on my polls drabble masterlist (linked below).
Shudders rock through your body and your sweaty skin sticks to the cold metal as you gasp for air. A sharp slap echoes through the room, rattling off the walls of lockers, and the stark view of the entrance reminds you of just how much trouble you could be in if you were caught.
“You gonna come for me, baby?” Wet, sloppy kisses pepper across your ass, leaving heat in its wake, “Gonna come with daddy’s tongue in your ass?”
You whine, “d-don’t say it like that—” You’re cut off by a yelp when his teeth pierce into your cheeks hard, right where his palm landed a mean spank.
“You don’t get to act all innocent now, not when you showed up in this.” He fists the tiny cheerleader skirt around your hips, the white fabric rolled up so he could feast. Your panties are another story and lying half-torn on the tiled floor with three letters hand-stitched on the back.
He could fuck you against the wall, hoist you up in his arms and bounce you on his cock like a little toy, but his name was on your ass—he had to get his mouth on you.
He showered before sneaking you into the locker room and he’ll have to shower again before you leave, but he doesn’t care. He can’t fucking care when his girl was the loudest in the crowd and holding up the cutest sign: ‘THE BULL/NUMBER 3 TACKLED MY HEART’ and the cherry on top was the beautiful bouquet of roses you brought down the field after they won.
No one has ever bought him flowers before. He often wondered how the hell you were so adorable and perfect, and how he even got the chance to be with you. Luck. He was so fucking lucky.
Saliva is smeared all over his lips, your essence evident in his thick beard, and Ari is seconds away from coming but he forces himself to hold back. Under his towel, he squeezes the fat base of his cock, “use daddy’s mouth, fuck yourself on my tongue. Or is that too dirty for you?” He spanks you again and soothes the burning flesh with his rough hand.
“No…”
Another slap, “then fucking do it.”
With a quiet cry, you rock back against his face, your hands searching for something to hold onto but it’s futile. That is until you reach behind and fist his hair. You yank him close, pathetic uh-uh-uhs escape your throat with every thrust of his tongue that meets your grinds. His muffled groans send shivers up your spine, you can hear how messy it is back there.
The tightening in your stomach intensifies when he traces your rim, slobbery kisses and suckles creep to your folds and creamy hole. He can’t resist tasting your cunt and grabs your hips, forcing you to arch your back, but then he gets a better idea.
“Rub your clit.”
“But I l-like when you do it.” You murmur, craning your neck to look down at him, only the toes of your sneakers on the floor. “My fingers don’t feel as good, daddy.”
“For someone so smart, you’re a fucking dummy sometimes.” He spits on your puckered hole then dips forward with his flat tongue, groaning lowly when you push back against him. “You want me to be sweet with your button, baby? Or do you want me to mean? Bully it, slap it, make it hurt ‘cause it’s so puffy.”
“Pl-Please be nice…” You sniffle, eyes rolling back when his thumb penetrates your tight wet rosebud. His other hand trails up your sticky thighs, teasing your slit. “I have an essay to do, can’t be hurtin’, daddy.”
“No? But don’t you love it when I’m mean?” He gently spreads your slick to your clit, rubbing slowly and sweetly, “Don’t you love when your button is so sensitive that I can’t even kiss it without you crying? You’re so pretty when you cry.”
With every passing second, you sink deeper into that floaty pool of pleasure. He was to blame, he was always to blame. His raspy voice, his thumb pumping in and out of your ass, and his delicate touch on your nub.
“I luh when you kiss it, daddy.”
“That’s not what I asked, little cub.” He chuckles softly, nibbling and kissing your flesh, “it’s okay, you get as dumb as you want, daddy’ll take care of you.”
𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: mhmhmh big boys mmmh
𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! check in tomorrow for a drabble about fuckboys!ari & curtis x reader !!
As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼
I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲
“This was an initial idea for #CaptainAmerica for #InfinityWar. We tried a lot of different things for him and one of them was that he had left his Cap costume totally behind.” — Ryan Meinerding, Character Designer, Concept Artist and Marvel Studios Head of Visual Development
Summary: When the fraternity your son is pledging crosses a line, you decide to go give two of the members a piece of your mind.
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, Bucky and Steve are ASSHOLES consider this your warning, reader is married, heavy references of hazing/bullying, one instance of fat shaming(not directed at the reader), drug use/alcohol consumption(not by reader), DUBCON, humiliation, degradation, coercive bargaining, fingering, oral sex/throat fucking (m receiving), rimming (m receiving), name calling, double vaginal penetration, double creampie, bukkake, photographing without consent, 18+.
Word Count: 4.7k
A/N: Thank you to @msmarvelwrites, @cockslutpadalecki, @sgt-seabass, @christywantspizza and @dreamlessinparis for all your help, read throughs and hype! And thank you to @navybrat817 for helping with some of the FILTH in here and coming up with the hardest part - the summary that I was stuck on for about a week 🤣 I started this fic in December 2021, so I'm sorry if I forgot anybody who helped me, encouraged me or read it through for me. It wasn't intentional if I did 💗
All my works are 18+. If you click the read more tab, you are agreeing that you are 18 or over, have read the warnings and take responsibility for your own media consumption. I do not consent to having my work translated or posted anywhere else.
You strum your manicured nails against the steering wheel, trying to reach your husband’s phone for the fifth time that afternoon. Nothing. You stare up at the frat house at the top of the driveway, ire rising inside you as you cast your mind back to this morning.
Josh, your son, has never been so upset. You knew he was too sweet – too sensitive – to join a fraternity but he insisted. He wanted to fit in, to make friends. That was a month ago. Having been a sorority member in college yourself, and knowing what frat life entails, you were less than surprised to find out about the disturbing hazing he’d been made to partake in.
What you weren’t expecting was just how cruel and downright humiliating the two assholes in charge had been.
Making your way up the driveway, you straighten up your shoulders, not an ounce of anxiety dwelling within. If there’s one thing you can’t stand, it’s a bully. And you were more than happy to confront them if it meant your son could start enjoying college life like he deserves.
The front door swings open before you have the chance to knock, the stench of marijuana and stale beer wafting up your wrinkled nose. “Steve, you order a hooker or something?”
You recognise the male in front of you from the video you’d seen on social media earlier that day. James ‘Bucky’ Barnes. If you didn’t know any better – and he didn’t have such a vile manner about him already – you’d think he was a nice guy. Brown hair, bright blue eyes and that baby faced smile. But you know he’s anything but.
"I'm Josh's mother." You don't wait for him to invite you in, pushing past him and walking into the house. It's messy but nothing compared to what you expected, empty solo cups strewn around on the sideboard and discarded sneakers littering the hallway floor. "I came here to discuss your treatment of him. It's unacceptable and it stops now."
A blonde man appears in the kitchen doorway, amused stare looking you over and his chest puffed out, silently attempting to assert his arrogance. "You're hotter than your photo." Your brow furrows slightly, confused. "Nineteen years old and still got his mama as his screensaver. It'd be cute if it wasn't so fucking sad."
You despise the way your thighs clench at the sight of his bicep flexing when he lifts a beer bottle to his mouth, a thick vein protruding against the surface of his skin. He reminds you of your college boyfriend, Ransom. Pushing the memory of that asshole from your mind, you collect yourself, focusing on the one in front of you, one hand resting on your hip and your car keys dangling in the other.
"What you're doing is cruel. He's very upset."
"Has Joshy been crying to his mother? He's more of a sap than I thought." You scowl when Bucky passes you, lighting the joint in his hand and taking a long drag. The scent takes you back to your own college days. He exhales. "You know how this shit works, babe? It's not s'posed to be a breeze. Fuckers gotta prove himself before we can accept him. It's nothing personal."
"I'm not your babe," you scowl, folding your arms across your chest. "Nothing personal? You made him send his girlfriend pictures of another girl's breasts. Surely even a prick like you can see that's crossing a line. She was distraught."
"Actually, that was my idea. Fuckin' love that shit," Steve gloats, reaching beneath the waistband of his shorts and readjusting himself. Your eyes linger on his crotch longer than you intended and his lips curl up when you force your gaze away. "She'll get over it. She is over it. Trust me."
You don't want to know what that means, choosing not to press this particular subject further.
“You washed his mouth out with soap because he forgot to refer to you as 'Master'. You think that’s an acceptable way to treat a human being, James?” you ask, disgusted by the way he smirks against the rim of his beer bottle. Disgusted by the way your tongue darts out to catch the imaginary droplet of beer as one happens to spill from the corner of his own mouth. “Oh, that’s funny, huh? I’ve had it. I won’t let you get away with it. I’m reporting you to the Dean.”
Steve barks out a laugh and it only irritates you more. “Something amusing?”
“He’s my uncle, but good luck with that.”
"Oh, great. A nepo baby."
It all makes sense now. How else would they get away with this excessive humiliation?
"A bit rich coming from you, Mrs Stark."
You have nothing to say to that. You suppose, in a way, he's right. The cogs in your brain begin to turn, and you can't help but think that Josh's parentage might have something to do with their excessively harsh treatment. It wasn't exactly a secret amongst the staff that Tony had gifted a hefty grant to the college Dean in order to secure your son's place here.
"I'll tell you what, Mama. I'll go easy on your boy. I'm not an unreasonable guy." You can't stop the scoff that comes from your mouth, arms folded across your chest as you eye the blonde popping the cap off a beer bottle and letting it fall to the floor at his feet. "What? I will. I'll go easy on him. But considering it could be classed as preferential treatment, don't you think you oughta do a little something for us in return?"
The sly grin that spreads across his face unsettles you, and you find yourself shuffling from left to right as you contemplate what it is that they could possibly want from you. You can tell the pair were born with silver spoons in their mouths. That much has been evident since the moment you stepped into the frat house. It wasn't as if they needed money, but you couldn't think of anything else they'd be seeking from you.
"I'm not paying you to quit harassing my son," you tell the brunette, stepping back as he takes a short stride forward. The backs of your knees brush against the couch behind you, and you begin to feel trapped in his presence. Bucky simply laughs, looking over at a smirking Steve. Like they're in on some private joke that you're not yet privy to. "Just cut the bullshit and tell me what you want. My husband didn't work his fingers to the damn bone every day for the last 19 years for our son to drop out of college because of two losers on a power trip."
Your face is stern, your words dripping in faux bravery, and your brow crumpled in frustration; but what you're feeling inside is anything but courageous. Not when Bucky takes another step forward, lifting the joint between his fingers to his lips and toking it.
You turn your nose up at the stench that fills your nostrils, pursing your lips to express your disgust. If your sorority sisters were here, they'd poke fun at you over your prudeness. You weren't exactly a stranger to their ways, but these two didn't need to know that.
"I don't think it's clicked in that pretty little head just yet, Buck." Your head snaps to the left of you, your eyes glaring a hole through Steve as he walks a little closer, taking a swig of his beer and shooting you a wink.
You open your mouth to speak, but your words are replaced by the dry tang of smoke billowing against your lips. Fanning the fumes from your face, anger bubbling away in your veins and an unwanted heat stoking between your thighs, you point a finger firmly against Bucky's chest. "Wipe that stupid grin off your face and quit wasting my time. What do you want?"
He's quiet for a moment, stretching his arm out by his side to pass the joint to Steve who takes it happily. Your mouth curls in disdain when his fingers find their way to the buttons of your blouse, and you're hit with the very obvious request he's about to make of you. You don't even give him the chance to say it before you're shaking your head.
"No," you tell him firmly; looking back and forth between the two young men.
"No?" he chuckles, toying with your collar before pulling his hand away completely. You breathe a small sigh of relief, staring him down. “You don't even know what I'm gonna say yet.”
Those eyes could make the most devout of nuns drop their panties.
Stop it.
You part your lips to speak, but Steve is quick to cut you off before you even begin. "Look, you can walk out of here with your self respect intact and your boy will get it the hardest out of all those desperate morons."
He pauses to down the remainder of his drink, and you try to look anywhere else but at the pair of bright, cerulean eyes staring you down.
"Or," he continues, setting the empty bottle on the large, oak coffee table in front of him, "you can get down on your knees and show us exactly how desperate you are for us to leave him alone."
Your heart beats frantically in your chest, sidestepping the brunette and putting some space between the two of you. You feel like your airway is closing up, your cheeks hot from the obscene proposal.
"You can leave. You know where the door is," Bucky says, motioning to the hallway behind you, "or you can stay. You never know. You might enjoy yourself more than you think. How long's it been since that pussy got a good pounding?"
“Last night, actually.” You’re lying, of course. It’s been months.
“I’ve seen your husband, baby. The only thing he’s pounding is the Wendy’s drive-thru.” Bucky catches your wrist just before your palm can meet his cheek, his grip firm and a sick grin forming on his face. “Maybe next time he can use the grease to lube up his cock. Fuck knows you must be drier than the Nevada desert with that on top of you every night.”
He’s disgusting, his darkened chuckle vibrating through your whole body like molasses, anger simmering and prickling at your skin.
“So, what’s it gonna be? Run to the Dean and see how fast Rogers can get your kid kicked out altogether or get down on your knees and do something useful with that mouth?”
This was Josh’s dream college. This was the one he’d dreamt of attending since 8th grade. The same one you and your husband attended all those years ago. You had to ask yourself, was your pride worth his heartbreak? If you did this for him, his life would undoubtedly improve, right?
“If you tell him—”
“Our lips are sealed. Right, Rogers?” He smirks. “But yours won't be.”
You wince at the feel of Steve’s rough hand squeezing your ass, your body trapped between the two of them and the scent of them swimming all around you. His smiling lips brush your ear and you don’t even bother to suppress the shudder. “Get on your knees. We don’t have all day.”
"Not so mouthy now, are you?" Bucky grins, taking a sip of his beer and watching as you glare up at him; lips stretching around his girth, pussy shamefully clenching at the feel of Steve's palm dragging up the inside of your thigh. "Well actually, I guess you are, huh?"
You pull Bucky's cock free of your mouth, spit dripping from your lower lip and down your chin. The hand that curls around the back of your throat startles you, Steve's body leaning over you and his lips inches from your ear.
"Don't want your boy to know what a slut you are, do you?" Steve taunts, the outline of his erection pressing up against the curve of your ass through his basketball shorts. "Do your part and it'll be our little secret."
You'd be lying if you said you weren't changing your tune real fast, your cunt hungry for attention and your lips gravitating back towards the fat cock in front of you. You can't help but hum at the salty taste on your tongue when you lap at the head, lips working their way down his shaft inch by inch.
"Bet she's fuckin' drenched just from having her mouth stuffed," Bucky teases, looking right past you and nodding with silent instruction to Steve. "Go ahead, bet you bucks I'm right."
A moan vibrates through him when you feel two thick fingers glide through your drenched folds, a sardonic laugh ringing in your ears as they probe at your entrance teasingly. Your eyes catch sight of the $50 bill being tossed forward over your shoulder, landing on Bucky's thigh before he snatches it up with his fingers.
"I'm never wrong about this kinda shit. I can tell when they want it." He has the sheer audacity to wave the money in front of your face, a smug look on his undoubtedly handsome features. "Hey, do a great job and you might leave with a tip."
You hate the way your thighs clench together, and the distinct sound of your slick squelching between your pussy lips makes you cringe. You hate that you walked in here ready to tear them a new asshole, and now here you are, willing to give anything for them to tear up yours.
You don't know where the urge to please them is coming from, but with each soft grunt that falls from his mouth, every little whisper of praise from Steve's lips - it makes you want more. So much more.
"Yeah, you love it don't you? Being down on your knees like a worthless little whore?" Steve goads, thumb swiping back and forth over your clit. You find yourself nodding, bobbing your head further down onto Bucky's cock, because it's true. Years of boring, vanilla sex was finally catching up with you. "Still think you can do better. Not makin' anywhere near as much mess we like. C'mere."
Steve yanks your head backwards away from Bucky's lap, your neck craning to its limit as he holds your mouth open with his fingers; a thick glob of saliva dripping from his mouth onto your waiting tongue. It's disgusting, the way your lips wrap themselves around his fingers when he pushes them between your lips, pressing down against your tongue and making you gag at the foreign intrusion.
"That's better," Steve hums, withdrawing his fingers and leaning down to leave the sloppiest of kisses against your parted lips. "Say Buck, remember Tiffany from last week? The cheerleader? You think our new toy can throat it as deep as she did?"
"I don't know, Steve. That was one hell of a blow job. I'm not sure she's got it in her," Bucky laughs, and the determination that rises inside you has you leaning back in, taking him further than you have yet, the tip of him prodding against your uvula. "Would you look at that? Someone's feeling competitive."
You could care less about the noises you're making as you take him deeper, forcing yourself down until your nose is nestled in the coarse hair at the base of him. One hand reaches for the soft sac between his thighs, the other stretching behind you for, well, you don't really know.
All you know is that you want Steve's fingers back on your cunt.
You drag your swollen, smeared lips down the underside of Bucky's shaft, your tongue seeking out his balls, sucking them into your mouth one after the other. You can tell by the blissed out look on his face that he's in heaven. Tiffany, who?
The sensation of Steve's fingers easing slowly inside your cunt has you gasping, your cheek resting against Bucky's bare thigh as you adjust to the stretch. You can't remember the last time Tony initiated any kind of foreplay, and the way his fingertips curl up against that long forgotten soft spot inside you has you sighing with lusty relief.
"Hey," Bucky nudges, the heavy thud of his cock stinging your spit-slick cheek, "you better not be slackin' off now you've got a cunt full. Keep goin'."
"Yes Sir," you smirk, wrapping your fist around his throbbing appendage and squeezing it in your palm. Your confidence is rising with each passing moment, now that you know exactly what having you down here on your knees does to him. To both of them.
"You hear that, Rogers? Yes, Sir. I like that," he groans, your tongue bravely dipping lower, the tip of it tickling his perineum as his thighs spread wider as if by instinct. "Oh yeah, I like that. I knew she was a nasty bitch. Can't fool me with the fancy clothes and expensive jewelry."
Your back arches, Steve's hand splayed out against it as his fingers work delightfully in and out of your trembling walls. Bucky repositions himself, feet resting on the cusp of the couch and his hips shuffling a little closer to the edge. You know what he's asking for, and you're not about to refuse him. Not when he looks down at you like you hung all the stars in the fucking sky.
"You gonna do it, baby? You gonna eat his ass? Fuck it, why should he have all the fun?" You whine pathetically, cunt empty as Steve moves from behind you, taking a seat on the sofa next to Bucky and sagging back against the cushions. "Least you can do is jerk me off while you work that nasty little mouth."
You don't even hesitate to reach beneath the waistband of his sweats, your fingers barely touching as you tug him free. He's not packing as much length as the man in front of you, but his girth is mouth watering.
Your tongue wiggles its way down, flattening against the tight, pink ring of muscle between Bucky's cheeks, and the groan that leaves his throat is nothing short of sinful. You don't hold back, burying your face against him as Steve takes hold of your palm, spitting in it and leading it back towards his cock.
"Fuck, look at her.” Bucky groans, unashamedly letting his head fall back against the cushions as you feast on his asshole. You take a moment to breathe, sitting back on your knees and taking hold of Bucky’s length in your free hand; jerking the two men simultaneously and letting your tongue lap at your bottom lip. “Who’s cock you gonna bounce on first, hm? Seein’ as though you’ve been such a good little fucktoy, I’ll let you choose.”
It’s an impossible choice. How the fuck are you supposed to decide when both look so tempting, so capable of stretching you beyond belief? “I—I can’t. I can’t choose."
Four strong arms hoist you up onto the couch, your body landing on Bucky’s lap and your thighs forcefully straddled either side of his. Steve pinches your cheeks, hooking his fingers at the corners of your mouth as your tongue rolls out; drool spilling down onto your chest and a kitten-like mewl coming from your throat.
“She can’t decide, Buck.” Steve grins then, menacing and full of obscene intent. “Guess that means she’ll just have to take both.”
A wave of panic runs through you, Steve maneuvering himself off the couch, his jeans around his ankles and the fleshy weight of his cock smacking against your ass. Your mind tries to wander to your husband, a glimmer of guilt sparking in your chest, but it vanishes just as fast as it appears; Bucky’s tongue sinking into your mouth and the tip of his dick spanking your swollen clit. “Oh, fuck!”
“You think she can take two cocks in this cunt, Rogers?” His words bring you out of your lustful reverie, anxiety and trepidation shaking you to the core. You tremble, sandwiched between the two of them, their body heat causing your temperature to rise, skin dewy with perspiration.
“No, wait. I don't think I c—"
"Oh, you can. I know you can," Steve purrs against your ear, a single bead of sweat dripping down your spine. "Don't worry. We've done this before, haven't we? They always start off a little tense, but fuck, once they open up to it they can't get enough."
Steve grips your waist, holding you still as Bucky’s cock sinks up into your drenched hole. “Fuck, there we fuckin’ go. Knew it’d be worth dealing with that bitch mouth.”
If your insides weren't melting like warm butter you'd snipe back in retaliation to his insult, but the head of Steve's length poking against your perineum has you stock still, every muscle in your body tensing as you brace yourself for the excessive intrusion. "Please–please go slow."
"Hey." Bucky's knuckles nudge at your chin as your forehead rests against his shoulder, tilting your gaze up to meet his deep azure state, his features set softer now. "It's no fun for us if it's not fun for you. We ain't gonna hurt you. If it hurts, you tell us to stop. We'll stop. Alright?"
The stinging stretch causes such pressure on your gut that your eyes glaze over, a subtle wave of nausea washing over your body and a pressure so overwhelming, it's almost beyond comprehension. You've never been this full but they've clearly done this plenty of times before. You can tell by the ease of their movements when they gently begin to thrust [can't think of the word] in and out of your cunt.
You lose track of all sense of time, fucked to within an inch of your own sanity, tugged around like a ragdoll and your limbs manipulated without your own consideration. And you've never felt pleasure like it.
Your body limpens against Bucky's chest, Steve's gliding against your back, a slither of drool seeping from the corner of your mouth and onto his sweat-slick skin. It's torture and nirvana all at once, their eager grunts ringing in your ears as you allow them to use your body for their own obscene pleasure.
The cool relief of the wood against your back as they lay you down on the coffee table in the center of the room has you whimpering, your body draped across the sturdy oak and your head hanging off the side. A light tap to your cheek has you struggling to focus on Steve's face as it comes into view, a cocky smirk plastered on his face. "Hey, where you goin'? You still in there mama?"
You open your mouth to attempt an answer, immediately muffled by his girth as he feeds it between your lips, your cheeks hollowing instantly and suckling clumsily while he ruts against your face.
Bucky's fingers plucking at your nipples has a heady whine emitting from your stuffed throat, his cock sliding into your oozing cunt causing your thighs to shake. They've already spilled inside you once. Surely they can't go much longer. Your body is exhausted. "Got you nice n open now, huh? Bet we could keep you here all fuckin' day and you'd still wanna come back for more."
"Would you like that? You wanna come back?" Steve chuckles, knowing full well you can't answer, spluttering around him each time he drives himself into your mouth. "Yeah, I'll bet you would. Nasty fuckin' whore. You just wanna be a dirty little pleasure pit for college dick, don't you?"
"Mmph." It's all you can manage, your lips stretched to capacity and your insides wrecked.
Bucky's surprisingly deft fingers work your clit, softly pinching and strumming, walls beating around his dick like a lusty heartbeat. "She's gonna cum again, aren't you, baby? What's that? Three times now?"
"I count four. Not that I give a shit."
If you could talk, you'd say Steve absolutely does give a shit. Nobody puts this much effort into ruining a woman when they don't give a shit. But you're happy to focus on milking his dick with your mouth instead. It keeps you from zoning out completely.
You’re on the edge of stupid when Steve yanks himself free of your sore throat, thick strings of spit connecting your lips to the tip of his cock. Before you can focus your vision, he's spilling his cum all over your face; sticky, hot droplets landing on your cheeks, lips and chin.
“There we go. Doesn’t she look pretty, Buck? God, I gotta get a shot of this shit.” Bucky’s thrusts stagger when Steve reaches for his phone, snapping a photograph of your cum-soaked features and grunting in satisfaction at the picture on his screen.
It’s too late to argue with him, in fact, what’s unfolding doesn’t even register fully in your brain. Your body is still twitching from your last orgasm and you’re certain you can’t take another – and Bucky doesn’t intend on making you suffer through one; pulling out and jerking himself to completion all over your stomach.
Your head is spinning, the loud click of the camera leveling you out as Steve’s fingers scoop up the pearly droplets on your chin and sink into your mouth. You gag at the intrusion, his digits pressing down on your tongue.
“That’s a work of art right there, Rogers.” You try to sit up, your limbs boneless and trembling. The guilt begins to settle in as you listen to them laugh, Bucky pulling two beers from the mini fridge in the corner, popping the caps off and handing one to Steve. The sound of glass clinking together makes you wince, the throbbing between your legs nothing in comparison to the heavy sense of regret building in the pit of your stomach. “What’s the matter, mama? You look a little tense. Thought we fucked that right outta you.”
“You– you took pictures of me.” It’s a statement, not a question. Fear prickles at your skin. What if they show Josh? What if they–
“Calm down, sweetheart. It’s just for my own personal collection. I’m gonna be jerking off over that shit for weeks,” Steve gloats, taking a swig of his beer, your own lips dry and your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. “I guess a mother really will do anything for her kid, huh?”
You want to vomit, tears of self resentment in your eyes as you wipe away Steves cum with the back of your hand. Bucky crouches down next to you, a gym towel in his hand as he swipes at the mess on your stomach. “Better get dressed. Frat meeting in 20.”
Your body aches as you stretch out on your couch, the wine helping to ease your pounding head and the soreness lingering in your throat. The sound of the phone ringing on the side table makes you groan.
“Hello?” you answer, swirling the chardonnay around in your wine glass.
“Mom?” Josh chirps, panic embroiling you. “Hey, listen. I know I said I was thinking of dropping out but I think I’m gonna stick it out.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Yeah, they’ve actually been kinda… nice tonight.”
“Well that’s wonderful, honey.”
“Yeah. Listen, I gotta go.” You can hear the echoes of rowdy voices in the background, a party no doubt. “I just wanted to say thank you. You’re a great mom.”
The phone cuts off and you look to Tony on the opposite end of the couch, a Wendy’s bag on his lap and his arm reaching out to you to offer you some of his fries; fingers coated in shiny grease. “Want one?”
“No. No, thank you.”
I no longer have a tag list, but if you want to keep up to date with what I post follow my sideblog, @sweetersficlibrary, and turn on alerts to be notified whenever I post something new 💕
out of all the cars he could have chosen (and it’s canon that he knows how to steal modern cars) he picked the smallest, most uncomfortable car and stuffed in 3 grown ass beefy men. Incredible. I’m surprised they went along with it.
I guess he assumed the authorities wouldn’t be looking for three big beefy men in a little bitty car. There’s a certain kind of logic to that. Mackie said he kept running it into the wall.
My favorite thing Mackie said about this car wasn’t just that Chris couldn’t drive it for shit, but also that no useable footage exists of Sebastian Stan getting out of the backseat because every time he tried, he’d get stuck and everyone on set completely lost their shit.
"ooooh nooooo but a rail strike around the holidays could cripple the economy" damn sounds like their labor is really really important and you should give them what they fucking want
high school teachers: if you don’t show up with a dress and full makeup or a fitted tuxedo to class everyday to college your professors will execute you
I once had a professor SLAM a thermos down on his desk and say to us “there’s more pressure in my sinuses right now than there is at the bottom of the sea. This thing’s full of NyQuil. I’m going to drink it while I teach, and when your heads are replaced by swirling rainbows, I will cancel the rest of class.”
The class ended up being 17 minutes long.
I was in a class in undergrad, fellow classmate walks in 20, maybe 30 minutes after class started and slightly out of breath. Professor gives a vague look of curiosity and the kid says “my bad. They set up a bouncy castle outside.” The Professor perks up “there’s a bouncy castle?! Class dismissed!” and straight up ran out of the room. It was a 10am class.
Somewhat related to the original post: One time in my university lectures a girl walked in five minutes late wearing full formal wear—I mean like a prom or bridesmaid dress, white gloves, heels, hair done up, the works—and she had to sit down in the front because all the other seats were full.
Professor actually paused the lecture to ask what the occasion was.
“Laundry day,” she answered. “Sorry I’m late.”
“Oh yeah, don’t worry about it,” said the professor, “We’ve all been there.” Then went back to the lecture.
So like seriously high school students don’t even worry about it
summary — Chris needs help applying his sun tan oil.
warnings — DBF!Chris Evans x afab!reader. age gap. dirty talk. hand job. face sitting. oral sex (f). fingering. squirting. light spit play. light spanking. light cum play. the usual filth. chris evans looking like this ☝️ no beta.
word count — 2.1K
author’s note — we were all affected by the “SMA” shoot. this is where my mind went. 😏
“Hey, pretty girl. How’s it going?” Chris asks swimming over to the edge of his massive inground pool.
You drop your things on one of the lounge chairs and stretch your arms over your head, “Oh you know, same old, same old.” You chuckle, grateful to unwind after a long day of job hunting.
Having just completed your third college semester, you enjoyed the sanctuary his backyard lent you. Filled with various palms and vegetation, a trickling waterfall, and the stacked bar, it was heaven on earth.
library genesis is still up (very similar site) and r/freemediaheckyeah and r/piracy have lots of other alternatives. zlib was the GOAT though. fuck tiktok
(originally commented. putting as a reblog as its important)
some sites i use to read online:
- https://libgen.li/
- https://www.pdfdrive.com/
- https://libretexts.org/
- https://openlibrary.org/
- https://novel80.com/
- https://www.allfreenovel.com/
- https://bookreadfree.com/
- https://allbookshub.com/
- http://thefreeonlinenovel.com/
- https://www.epub.pub/
- https://www.readingsanctuary.com/
- https://yes-pdf.com/
- https://www.booksfree.org/
if none of the links work if you just search up "(book title) read online free" there's almost always gonna be a pdf link and those are always good to read from too
summary. — A HARV(AMPIRE)ARD LEGACY — mr. hansen has a mess for you, and as his maid, you have no choice but to clean it up.
pairings. — dark!boss!Lloyd Hansen x maid!fem!reader.
warnings. — DUBCON, dark themes, coercion, manipulation, boss/employee, perversion, smut, Sir kink, balls in mouth, male masturbation, (f) grinding on a shoe, degradation, mild praise, pet names (sweetheart), mentions of licking a shoe, dirty talk, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!
word count. — 1.4k
author’s note. — the purgatory’s masterlist. posting order is the chronological order in this au. MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY! @hansensfics
The way Mr. Hansen whispers your name is a harsh contrast from when he shouted it a few moments before, telling you to come to his office and help him out with something. As his maid, you rushed your way over to his room as soon as you could.
“That’s it—there you go, slut,” he grunts, left hand pushing your head further towards his balls and his other fists his cock. Beads of pre-cum leak from his tip, dripping down the side of his shaft to his sack, where you drink it all up. “What a fucking cockwhore.”
Lloyd strokes his dick as you enthusiastically lap at his balls with your tongue. He keeps his gaze trained on you, admiring the glazed-over look on your face and your desperation to help your boss out. “Good girl. Always knew you’d love suckin’ on my balls, bitch.”
His foot wiggles side to side just a little bit, but it’s enough to have you whining even louder. Your hips gyrate as you heed one of sir’s orders—rub that cunt on my foot, sweetheart. The leather shines with your slick, not polish. The tip of the loafer nudges at your drooling fuckhole, arousal making a mess everywhere.
“Look at that… My cock’s bigger than your fuckin’ face, sweetheart,” Lloyd chuckles, the size difference making him throb in his hand. Or is that from the vibrations your lewd sounds are causing? “My god...”
You slobber all over his sack, trying to fit both of his balls in your mouth because you figure it’ll make the pleasure come in tenfold for him. It’s amusing to your boss—how much of a slut you are for him. He doesn’t even have to ask you to do better—in fact, he may have to tell you to take it easy, or else you’re going to choke.
But maybe Lloyd wants to see you gag and sputter while you try to take more of his sack into your mouth. You suck on his balls with the perfect amount of determination. Your eyebrows are raised slightly, and you drag your tongue against the heavy skin.
“Such a dirty little girl. Sucking on my fat balls and humping my foot like a bitch in heat. You’re lucky you’re cute, even if you look pathetic,” Lloyd spits, cock glistening as he catches some of his pre-cum and uses it as lube. “Bet you can barely think straight down there. Just focused on making me feel good.”
You hum against his sack, and Lloyd curses loudly from the sensation. If he had known you’d be such an eager little thing, he’d have shoved his balls into your mouth way earlier.
While your boss’s hand glides on his shaft, your pussy rubs against his shoe with equal ease. The nerves on your clit are alight with a pleasurable fire that spreads heat through your entire body. You alternate between kissing, licking, and sucking lightly.
The pop that resounds when you let go makes you whine—and you quickly try and get him back in your mouth. “Atta girl. I might as well give you a promotion with the way you’re working so hard for my cum.”
It’s almost as if you lose control of your movements, too caught up in making Lloyd feel good. Your hips come to a halt, but when he immediately squeezes your neck, you resume your quick, needy humping.
“But it doesn’t matter, does it? You were my slut since day one, sweetheart,” he grunts before pulling you away from his crotch. He slows down the pace at which he fucks his hand. Lloyd leans down a bit, tilting your head back and he squints his eyes. “Pretty, pretty girl… You’re all ruined, baby. You don’t care, do you? You just want to please Mr. Hansen.”
He watches you carefully, admiring your tears and spit-covered mouth. The tinted lip gloss he applied for you when you arrived is all smeared, and even its remnants are gone with the way you’re all messy. Strings of saliva keep you connected to his cock, and you try to move forward and resume playing with his balls.
“Nuh-uh-uh. Good sluts like you don’t call the shots. I do. And you’re my good little whore, aren’t you, baby?” Lloyd questions, shifting his foot against to make you cry out softly. “Uh-huh. ‘M your good little wh– whore, Sir,” you repeat, learnt from the other men in your life.
“That’s right, sweetheart. You want my cock so badly, don’t you? Just wanna get that slut-mouth on my balls and slobber all over them, hm?” Mr. Hansen further prods. You make the arms you’ve got wrapped around his calf even tighter, wanting to be close to him in some way. Too out of breath, you simply nod your head.
“Poor thing. You’re addicted to cock, aren’t you?”
Again, you nod your head. Lloyd coos at you. “Can barely go without it—always begging for it. Is that why you’re such a cocktease? Making me so hard all the damn time.”
He pulls you back towards his cock, but he tells you to pick up the pace before that. “Can’t wait to see you come all over my shoes, sweetheart. These are expensive, y’know, and I’d hate to have to get another pair…”
Your body moves at a pace that tries to rival your mouth. You suck on one of his balls, and you use one of your hands to cradle the other, stroking it lightly. You try to give both equal attention, but it’s hard as your climax begins to rise.
The noises you make are louder and more pathetic, moans causing vibrations that bring Lloyd closer to his own release. Your mouth parts as wide as it can and you try to take his entire sack again.
Mr. Hansen says all kinds of dirty, mean things about your desperation. Things that your step dad said when he learned about it, but in contrast, Ari soothed the burn of his words immediately.
Lloyd doesn’t.
“C’mon. Make a mess on my shoe, sweetheart. Cover it in your cream, baby,” he urges, and on his demand, your body seizes before thrashing as much as the lack of space lets you. “Good girl—good whore,” Lloyd marvels, watching as your eyes squeeze shut.
Though your cunt is spasming on his foot, your mouth doesn’t relent. Your clit throbs and jolts are sent throughout your body when you try to ride out your orgasm, unable to handle the feeling. It’s adorable, really.
Usually, it’s someone else who’s torturing your itty bitty cunt. And when you (try to) run away, they manage to pull you back and bully your pussy even more. Lloyd’s mean—quite possibly meaner than Daddy or Ransom. So it’s odd to be granted such freedom to just stop when he is the most likely—most obvious, person to make you keep going.
“Aw, poor baby… That little snatch can’t handle a li’l bit of rubbin’? How cute,” Mr. Hansen coos, and he picks up the pace of his hand. The older man is close, groans and growls rumbling in his chest. “If you didn’t have my balls stuffed in your pretty mouth, I’d make you keep going ‘till you’re squirting all over my shoe.”
You whimper—he’s just like them. The men who bring you to the land of pleasure and make you tread on the line of pain that you can’t get enough of. Even when you’re crying and begging you still take it like a good girl.
“Either way, you’re still gonna clean up after yourself, right, sweetheart?” he roughly questions, eyebrows furrowing slightly. With one of his heavy balls in your mouth, you nod your head and lick at the skin like it’s your favourite popsicle. “Good girl. Gonna lick it all up for me, shine my shoe with that cock-loving mouth.”
Before you can even say or think of anything, Lloyd pulls you away from his sack and moves you upwards. He shoves the bulbous head of his cock into your mouth, and the musky taste of his balls is dulled away from the saltiness of his cum.
Ribbons of spunk shoot into your mouth and fill it up. It’s almost neverending with the way he’s emptying his seed. Afraid of ruining the moment for him, you swallow like how Stevie taught you. Lloyd sighs softly when your lips and cheeks tighten around him slightly.
“Shit… Such a talented little mouth. And an eager whore, too,” your boss whispers, locking eyes with your doe-like ones. He pulls you off gently, cock sensitive yet still hard. “How about you put it to use and make my shoe look all brand new? That’s what maids are for, anyway.”
vaporwave
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