#Raked Gravel Press

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"Tokyo Tempos" by Michael Pronko

Unique Perspective on Living in Tokyo #books #bookreview #reading #readerviews

Tokyo Tempos Michael PronkoRaked Gravel Press (2024)ISBN Number: 978-1942410348Reviewed by Richard Bist for Reader Views (11/2024) As the fourth installment in Michael Pronko’s Tokyo Moments Series, “Tokyo Tempos” offers a unique perspective on living in this incredible city. Panko, a Kansas-born writer who has lived in Japan for over twenty years, provides the reader with his experiences…

[rizzanon]

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The door slammed open so hard it reverberated through the sterile hospital room. Bruce didn’t flinch. He barely blinked. He just sat there, slumped in the hard plastic chair, his hand resting on yours—cold and lifeless beneath his touch.

“What the fuck am I looking at?”

Bruce didn’t answer, didn’t lift his head.

“Bruce.”

Nothing.

The last fraying thread snapped. The figure crossed the room in a hearbeat, and the next thing Bruce registered was a fist colliding with his jaw.

Crack.

Bruce hit the ground with a heavy thud, his head snapping to the side as the impact split his lip and bruised the skin around his cheekbone. He didn’t move to defend himself, didn’t even try to stand. He just lay there on the cold tile, blood pooling in his mouth, the metallic tang sharp on his tongue.

He deserved this.

“Get up,” Jason spat, towering over him. His chest rose and fell like a man drowning in rage. “Get the fuck up!”

Bruce pushed himself into a seated position, back against the chair he’d fallen from. Slowly, he wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. “Jason…”

“What the hell happened? Tell me, Bruce. Tell me why—“ Jason’s voice shook as he gestured wildly toward your body. You, lying there on the hospital bed, covered with a sheet up to your chest. Still. Too still.

“Tell me why the hell am I looking at her like this?!”

Bruce closed his eyes for a moment, his own voice hoarse, like gravel scraping against stone. “She went after a drug ring. Alone.”

Jason froze. A muscle ticked in his jaw, his eyes blazing. “What?”

Bruce hands dropped into his lap, empty and useless. “She tracked them down herself. She found out where they were moving shipments. I don’t know when she left—by the time I realized, it was already too late. She—“

“And you let her??!” Jason’s shout rang through the small room, loud enough that the walls almost shook. He pointed at Bruce, his hand trembling. “You let her go after them?! Alone?!”

“She didn’t tell me.”

“She didn’t tell you?” Jason’s voice cracked, raw and vicious. He let out a bitter, humourless laugh. “Are you fucking kidding me, Bruce? You’re BATMAN. You’re supposed to KNOW when this kind of shit is about to go down!”

Bruce finally lifted his gaze to Jason, his face haggard, the bruising around his jaw already deepening. “She didn’t tell me, Jason,” he repeated quietly, like the words were an admission of failure. “She went on her own.”

Jason’s fists clenched at his sides, knucles white. “You should’ve known she’d do this! You should’ve stopped her! You’re supposed to keep her safe—that was your job!”

Jason’s voice cracked again on the last word, and Bruce couldn’t meet his eyes.

“She made her choice.”

“Bullshit!” Jason snarled, stepping forward like he might hit him again.

He should, he thinks.

“She shouldn’t have had to make that choice. She wouldn’t have done it if she thought she didn’t have to. She—“ Jason’s voice faltered for the first time, his fury cracking around the edges, breaking apart into something more brittle. He turned his head sharply toward your still form, his chest heaving.

Jason’s voice dropped, quiet and shaking. “She’s dead.”

The words hung in the air, terrible and final.

You were dead.

His sister was dead.

Jason let out a shaky breath, raking a hand through his hair. He turned toward the wall, his vision blurring, the tight knot in his chest turning into something he couldn’t contain. Before he knew it, his fist collided with the drywall, the sound loud and violent as it split under the force.

“Goddamnit!” Jason’s voice broke, raw and thick, the cracks in the wall mirroring the fractures in his heart. His chest heaved, his legs suddenly feeling too weak to hold him. He stumbled back a step, then two, before his knees hit the ground.

Bruce didn’t move.

Jason leaned back against the cracked wall, his forehead dropping against his knees as he struggled to breathe through the sickening weight pressing down on him. His voice was barely audible now, a broken rasp.

“She’s dead,” he whispered again, like saying it out loud would make it easier to believe. “Damnit, Bruce, she’s gone. She’s gone.”

He was furious at Bruce. For allowing this to happen. First him, then Alfred, and now… you.

He was furious at himself. If he’d just been there…. If he hadn’t stayed away like a selfish coward, like he thought pushing you away would protect you, like he thought pushing you away would make you drop the mantle, maybe—maybe—this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe you wouldn’t be lying there, cold and lifeless.

“Goddamnit,” Jason choked out, his fingers gripping his hair as he tried to keep himself from shattering completely. “I should’ve stopped her. I should’ve been there.”

Bruce, still on the floor across from him, watched Jason quietly. His voice, when it came, was low and rough. “I promised myself I wouldn’t fail her.”

Jason’s head snapped up, his eyes red-rimmed, furious. “You did. You failed her.”

He bowed his head down, and gritted his teeth. “….And I did too.”

With that, Jason fell silent. He stayed there, crumpled on the floor, staring at your lifeless form as the weight of it all—your death, Bruce’s failure, his own failure, his regrets—settled over him like a suffocating shroud.

And for the first time in a long time, Jason didn’t know how to pick himself back up.

The night was deceptively calm, a quiet blanket over Gotham that felt almost serene. But Dick’s heart was anything but that. It hammered in his chest like a war drum, each beat fueling the storm that raged inside him. In the shadowed alleys and dimly lit streets, he moved like a storm, tearing through the remnants of the drug ring that belied the peaceful night.

Every punch, every kick was driven by something deeper—something raw and consuming. His movements were precise, brutal, and unrelenting, each strike a wordless scream of anguish. This wasn’t just justice. It wasn’t even revenge.

This was the drug ring you had been chasing. The one responsible for your death.

And Dick wasn’t stopping until they felt the full weight of what they had taken from him.

One of the thugs came at him with a crowbar, swinging wildly. Dick ducked low, his movements precise, and drove his elbow into the man's ribs. The thug stumbled, wheezing, but before he could recover, Dick caught him with a roundhouse kick to the temple. He went down hard, blood streaking his face.

Another rushed him from behind, but Dick anticipated it, pivoting sharply and catching the man's wrist mid-swing. He wrenched it back with brutal efficiency, the crack of bone echoing in the alley. The man screamed, but Dick silenced him with a punch to the throat, sending him crumpling to the ground.

A third lunged at him with a knife, slashing at his chest. Dick sidestepped, grabbed the thug by the wrist, and twisted hard enough to disarm him. The blade clattered to the ground as Dick's fist connected with his jaw, snapping the thug's head back. He didn't let up, grabbing the man by the collar and slamming him into the nearest wall.

“Where are the rest of you?” Dick snarled, his voice venomous. The man whimpered, struggling against his grip, but before he could answer, another figure charged at Dick.

This one didn't even make it close. Dick spun, releasing the man he'd been holding and delivering a brutal flying knee to the newcomer's chest. The thug crumpled on impact, choking and gasping for air. The alley was littered with bodies-groaning, bloodied, broken.

But it wasn't enough.

It would never be enough.

Dick's eyes locked on the last thug, the one who'd been cowering in the shadows, trying to make a quiet escape. His boots crunched on the asphalt as he closed the distance, his heart pounding in his chest like a war drum. The man froze, wide-eyed, as Dick grabbed him by the front of his jacket and slammed him against the wall.

“Where's the rest of your crew?” Dick growled, his voice low and dangerous.

“I-I don't—“

The man's excuse was cut off as Dick slammed him against the wall again, harder this time.

“Don't lie to me,” Dick hissed, his grip tightening. His knuckles were already sore and bloodied, but he barely noticed.

“Where are they?”

The thug whimpered, trembling under Dick's glare. “Warehouse... on 14th... Please, man, I'm just—”

“Shut up.” Dick's voice was ice, his eyes dark with fury. He raised his fist, ready to deliver another blow, but a voice crackled in his ear, sharp and commanding.

“Nightwing!”

Dick froze, his fist hovering in the air.

“Dick, that's enough!” Barbara's voice was firm, but there was a crack in it—a tremor that cut through the haze of rage clouding his mind. “They're down. He's down. You've got what you need.”

For a moment, Dick didn't move, his chest heaving, his fist still trembling in the air. Then, slowly, he let the man drop. The thug collapsed to the ground, coughing and clutching his chest, too terrified to move. Dick turned away, his hands shaking as he secured the thugs with cuffs. He didn't bother calling it in to the GCPD. He just fired his grappling hook and ascended to the nearest rooftop, the wind whipping at his face as the adrenaline began to fade.

And then the guilt hit.

The rooftop was silent save for the distant hum of Gotham below. Dick leaned heavily against the ledge, staring down at the city that had taken so much from him. He pressed two fingers to his comm.

“Oracle,” he rasped, his voice raw. “You there?”

“I'm here.”

There was a beat of silence before Dick spoke again, his voice trembling. “I should've been there, Babs. I should've been there for her.”

Barbara's breath hitched over the comm. “Dick—”

“I was supposed to protect her.” The words came out sharp, biting, the anguish behind them bleeding through. “I'm her big brother, Barbara. I'm supposed to protect my family. Protect her.” His fists clenched, nails digging into his palms hard enough to break skin. “But I wasn't there. I wasn't there, and now, she's...” His voice cracked, the rest of the sentence dying in his throat.

Barbara's voice was soft but steady. “You couldn't have known, Dick. You were-”

“Don't,” he snapped, his anger flaring again. “Don't tell me I couldn't have known. I should have known. I should've been paying attention. I was in Bludhaven, dealing with lowlifes while she was...” He trailed off, his chest heaving as he struggled to find the words.

“She was dying, Babs,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I wasn't there. (Name) is dead.”

Barbara was silent for a moment, and when she spoke, her voice was laced with pain. “You're not the only one who feels this, Dick. Don't act like you're the only one who lost her.”

Dick let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You don't get it—”

“Don't I?” Barbara's voice cracked, sharp and raw.

Dick froze, his breath catching.

“She died as Batgirl,” Barbara said, her tone trembling with emotion. “She died wearing my mantle. Do you think I don't blame myself for that? Do you think I don't feel like it's my fault she's gone?”

Dick turned, guilt twisting in his gut as he heard the crack in her voice.

“She was under my guidance,” Barbara continued, her voice rising. “She was wearing my symbol. That's on me, Dick. Just like how you thought Jason’s death was on you.”

Dick flinched at the name, his chest tightening painfully. That was a low blow. A low moment in his life in which he didn’t want to go through again. But here he was—

“So don't you dare think for a second that I don't understand,” Barbara said, her voice breaking now. “Because I do. I know exactly how this feels for you. Every second of each day, I feel it. And it’s killing me inside.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Finally, Dick spoke, his voice barely audible. “I can't lose another one of us, Babs. I can't. Jason came back, but she...” His voice cracked again. “(Name)’s not coming back.”

Barbara's voice softened, though her pain was still evident. “I know.”

Dick closed his eyes, the weight of his guilt pressing down on him like a physical force. “This is my fault, Babs” he admitted, his voice trembling.

“Not just yours… mine as well,” Barbara replied, her voice thick with emotion.

For a moment, neither of them said anything, the silence between them heavy with shared grief.

there was too much fluff (mlb asks + uf trio asks) posted tdy, i needed to balance it out 🥰🫶 i love it when dick goes feral in the comics lol (its hot)

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[aliteralsemicolon]

Bad, bad news - 18+

Main masterlist

"Bad, bad news, one of us is gonna lose, I'm the powder you're the fuse...just add some friction." You and Spencer play to see who can control themselves the longest. Loser is at the winner's mercy for the rest of the night.

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

DISCLAIMER You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Minors do not interact at all. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read.

WARNING: Smut: Switch!/dom! Spencer, switch!/sub! reader, cock-warming, nipple play, dirty talk, edging/orgasm denial, clit stimulation, one singular spank, no use of protection, pet names (sweet girl, good girl, etc). Not proofread. Proceed at your own risk.

Word count: 2.9K See notes at end for authors note & spoilers.

Rolling around half naked in your bed sheets is like a harmonious duet on most days. You and Spencer mindlessly slip into your roles using non-verbal cues. Today was not one of those days. Today was a messy battle for dominance and your sheets bore the brunt. 

“Give in,” Spencer whispers, his knee strategically pressed against your heat. “You know you want to.”

You wiggle your wrists out of his grasp above your head and flatten your palms against his chest as you push him back down. He doesn't react fast enough and you’re straddling him again. You claim his mouth in a roaring kiss and swallow a desperate moan.

“Baby, if anyone’s going to give in it’s you.” You taunt, pulling away.

Without warning, Spencer bucks his hips up, rubbing his hardness against your core. It makes you jolt. 

“Yeah?” He licks his lips and flashes you a cocky smile.

“Y-yes.” You’re quick to regain composure, not wanting to let him rob you of the upper hand. “You can barely control yourself.”

He harshly cups your jaw in retaliation and pushes himself up until his lips are almost brushing yours. You have to brace yourself against his shoulder and his eyes lock in on yours. He lingers there for a second, his breath tickles your skin. Your eyes flicker between his eyes and his lips. His hold on your jaw loosens as the two of you slowly lean in. 

“I’m not the one that needs to be controlled.” It’s a low gravel that vibrates against your mouth as he retracts his head, making you chase after the kiss. 

Before you can catch his lips, he rolls you over and pushes himself on his knees. The noise that leaves you upon impact is something between a squeak and a grunt. He doesn’t give you time to assimilate, flipping you over and yanking you by your hips. Your cunt slams against his bulge and you groan, gripping the sheets. He grabs your hands, pinning them behind your back. You try to squirm out of his grip, but he’s got you pinned firmly. 

“Hey, that is not fair!” You whine. 

“Oh? Why not?” 

“You’re biologically stronger than I am!”

“Aw, poor baby.” He pouts with a mocking coo. 

You huff and make another futile attempt to set yourself free.

“Just give in and I’ll let go.” He chuckles. 

“Fuck off–ah!” A firm smack on your behind cuts you off. 

If that wasn’t so hot you could have at least pretended to be upset, but the way you involuntarily grind your hips gives you away before you can even make the effort. Spencer hisses in response. His eyes rake down your back to your ass pressed against him. So that backfired. 

You’re just as stubborn as he is and he doesn’t have the patience to wear you down. He needs to watch you squirm as you beg for him. He wants to feel how desperate you are for him. Using a featherlight touch, his hand travels up your back. He leans in, torso hovering over your back and brings his lips to your ear. 

“How about I make you a deal, hmm?” A trail of kisses starts from below your ear to your jaw.

“A deal?” You repeat, falling into a slight daze.

His fingers stop skimming over your back when he reaches the clasp of your bra and he undoes it in one swift motion. You can feel your heartbeat as your breasts spring free. 

“Mhm.” He releases his hold on you and moves off you to sit up against the headboard. 

“What deal?” You question as you sit up, eyeing him curiously.

“Well, it’s more of a bet.” 

Part of the reason you and Spencer work so well is because of your ability to keep up with each other's competitive nature. 

“Go on.” You rid yourself of the bra hanging on your shoulders. 

He tries to hide it, but, being met with your bare chest has an immediate effect on him. The silent but sharp inhale, the way he tries oh so hard to keep his eyes on your face and the way his lip rolls between his teeth. You can practically feel your arousal pooling in your underwear. 

“Come here.” He beckons you closer with his fingers.

A shrewd smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth. You position yourself on your hands and knees, effectively crawling toward him. It shouldn’t feel as alluring as it does, but the sight makes his cock twitch. Part of him wants to grab you and pull you onto his lap the second you’re within reach, but he waits for you to get there on your own, watching you intently with every step. 

His palms caress the sides of your ribcage as you straddle him and he swipes his tongue between his lips. You drape your arms on his shoulders, wrapping them so your fingers run through his hair. You let him kiss you on the chin, jaw and shoulder, but when he tries to go lower, you pull on his hair by the base. He turns his head back up to you and you both rest your foreheads together.

“You are impossibly stubborn.” He groans. 

“I wouldn’t have to be if you would simply do as I say.” 

“I should tie you up and make you watch as I take care of myself in front of you.” There’s an underlying playfulness in his sigh. 

“That sounds like a punishment.” You quirk your eyebrow.

“I wouldn’t have to if you had let me take care of you as I’ve wanted from the start.” 

“You won’t. At all.” You state point blank, indicating he's not the one in charge.

Spencer tsks and brushes his thumb against your nipple. You playfully slap his hand away. You don’t know it yet, but he’s already noting everything he’ll punish you for when the time comes. 

“Do you trust me?” 

You nod, giving him a cautious stare. 

“Do. you. trust. me?” He repeats, unsatisfied with the non-verbal confirmation. 

“Yes!” You huff. 

“Up.” He drops his hands to your hips, gripping the flesh and pushing it away from him. 

You lift yourself off him and on your knees. Spencer then lifts his hips, tugging his boxers down providing ample room for his length to bounce out. Looking down you can see just how hard he is. His tip’s swollen, pink and leaking with pre-cum. If you weren’t so turned on right now, you’d question what he’s up to. 

There is no shortage of things you want to do to him and he can tell as much when he runs a finger through your slit, pushing the fabric to the side. The action is unexpected and you have to use his shoulders for support, a whimper escaping your lips. You glare at him but he pays you no mind.

“Fuucck,” He breathily groans, “you are soaked.” 

It always takes you a little off guard when Spencer swears. He rarely does, saving it for when he feels very passionately about something. It makes you clench around nothing. Spencer guides your hips a little lower and runs his tip between your folds. You can only chuff in desperation as you try to keep yourself composed. 

“Sit.” He commands, lining himself up with your entrance. 

You’re sceptical but comply nonetheless. You slowly sink on his length and his fingers dig into the plush of your hips. The two of you exchange a gasp as you attempt to ground yourselves. Something about how he stretches your walls open is so delicious and palatable, that it makes you forget all sense or reason.

“Now what?” 

“Now,” his voice floats in and out of short breaths, “you sit still.” 

“I beg you pardon? Still?” Your perplexity makes him chuckle.

Shock waves travel between your cores and you squirm. 

“Uh-uh.” His grip on your body tightens as he holds you in place. “You heard me. Sit still.” 

You mull over his words and it clicks.

“Cockwarming?” 

“Precisely.” 

“That’s your deal?”

“Bet.” He corrects. 

A silent pause takes over the conversation. You try to study his challenging stare, but honestly, all you can focus on is how enchanting his eyes are. How ethereal they look when you have him begging for you. You’re smart enough to recognise that the only shot you have of making that happen is if you indulge him for now. 

“Okay, genius, I’ll bite. What are we betting on?” 

“Control. More specifically, which one of us is better at exhibiting control.”

“So not you.” You snort. 

He rolls his eyes but he’s unsure if it’s because of your comment or how warm you feel around his cock. He doesn’t point out that he’s already demonstrating a great amount of control by not flipping you over and fucking the shit out of you, because it might not work in his favour.

“What happens when I win?” 

Your follow-up question brings him back to you with brows raised in astonishment. 

“When you win?” 

“Or when you lose. Whatever way you wanna look at it.” 

His eyes narrow and his tongue swipes the inside of his cheek. Maybe if he brought up how good he is at holding his tongue, he could make a point about how much more control he’s in. 

“Whoever wins gets to do whatever they want to the other. For tonight.” 

You twist your lips to the side in contemplation. Spencer tracks every shift in your features. 

“Deal.” You answer with a genuine smile. 

“Thank you.” His gratitude is relayed in a husky whisper.

You don’t know if it’s the way he speaks or the words he says, but it makes you clench. You don’t realise until he hisses and throws his head back. 

“You can’t be doing that.” His thumbs caress the skin they’re resting on. 

“What? This?” You repeat the action intentionally and give him your most convincing doe eyes. 

Oh the things he plans to do to you. His thoughts hide behind a half-smirk and his eyes drop to your breasts. The look on his face borders between unsettling and erotic, sending shivers down your spine. Spencer lets his hand drift up your sides, stopping so his thumbs brush your nipples again. The feeling provokes goosebumps all over. 

You unintentionally whimper when he gently rolls them between his thumbs and forefingers. At first, Spencer was only trying to tease you for your antics, but the sound of your voice made him want to coax more out of you. He adds pressure to his hold and tugs. Your walls tighten around him again and he lessens the pressure to keep himself composed. If you don’t stop, he will. Your hands move to cup his wrists in place and you try to hold back the pathetic sounds threatening to spill out of you. 

“Can’t have your cake and eat it too, sweet girl. Tell me what you want.” His voice is a coo masking a command. 

“For you to stop playing games and give up already.” You try to keep your voice steady but fail. 

“You’re just delaying the inevitable at this point. The longer you fight, the harder you’ll have to beg.” He relays it like a scientific fact that can’t be proven wrong. 

“And you’re delusional if you think that’s happening. I won’t beg for you.” 

“That’s two bets you’re losing tonight.” 

You scoff but before you can get another word in, he pulls your taut nubs with a tighter grip than before. You have to fight the urge to lean away and roll your hips. Your breathing quickens, it’s almost as if you're quietly heaving. Then you make the mistake of looking down. Slender fingers toying with your hardened peaks and cock so deep inside you that your cores are touching at the base. 

Your senses feel heightened. Everything you sense is jumbled. You can practically taste the sweet ecstasy that fills your body when he’s driving into you so hard that he’s pressing against your stomach. You don’t realise how close you are to the edge, but Spencer does. He can tell by the slight shake in your legs as you try to keep yourself still. And the way your nails dig into his wrists. 

All your focus is on keeping yourself from clenching because you don’t want him to stop. The coil in your stomach has almost completely unravelled; you just need to sit still for a few more seconds. 

Seven. In your distracted state you let a few tiny moans slip out. 

Six. It elates Spencer, he almost feels bad for what he’s about to do. 

Five. As you grow louder, Spencer begins shushing you in his soft voice. 

Four. You shut your eyes, anticipating your release.

Three. Almost there, your lip rolls between your teeth. 

Two–

Your efforts are wasted because Spencer lets go right as you’re on the brink. 

“NofuckWHY?!” You speak so fast that you join your sentence into one word. 

A brash chuckle erupts from him. He releases his wrists from your grip.

“Come on, you didn’t actually think I was going to let you cum.” 

You let out a frustrated huff. 

“Only good girls get to come. Are you a good girl?” He adds, intertwining his hands with yours. 

It seems like an intimate act, but you can see past it. As always, the sneaky bastard has found himself a loophole. The truth is, Spencer doesn’t have more patience, he’s just too good at achieving results. He’s basically admitted defeat and you’ll still be the one to lose. You can only give him a narrowed stare, scouring his eyes with your jaw hanging.

“No?” He prompts when your silence is too long. 

This time, he only gives attention to one of your nubs and his other hand lands on your clit without warning. He doesn’t ease you into his brutal pace, flicking over your bud with his middle finger. The strain against your sensitive nipple, the stimulation on your inflamed bud and his erection still buried inside you. It’s an overwhelming sensation and you’re unsure of what to focus on. The result is a loud, strangled moan you try to muffle in the crook of his neck.

“Fuck! Spencer!” 

It doesn’t take long for the tension in your abdomen to start building again. You try to focus on your breathing and relieve the intensity by pressing your nails into his shoulders. Spencer remains undeterred and you can’t escape the feeling. It’s building fast and it’s going to run through you like a tidal wave. 

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck– oh God– oh fuck–” 

Your stringed obscenities are matched by Spencer's more silent hums and groans. He’s enjoying this, probably more than you are. His begins to twitch inside you at random intervals, he could cum just from this. 

“You’re close. Maybe I should stop. Hmm?” He mumbles his words as close to your ear as he can. 

“Pleaseplease–fucking–please– don’t stop. Don’t stop!” 

“Admit that you’re my good girl.”

“Spenc– mmh–” 

It’s too much but not enough at the same time. The tension inside is brewing too thick, you’re about to snap. 

“You’re not cumming until you say it,” Spencer warns sternly, “say you’re my good girl.” 

The sound of his voice only adds to your desperation. All you give him in return is your lewd mewls. He’s brought you back to the edge, you only need one final push. 

“Still nothing? You must not want it bad enough.” He starts to slow down his pace, indicating that he’s about to stop. 

The threat alone makes you break. 

“No!” You yelp. “Nonono– I’m a good girl– I’m your good girl! Please don’t stop!”

You’re panting frantically. He’s won.

“Yeah? You think so?” 

Yet he’s still going to make you work for it. He quickens his pace again and you don’t even try to keep yourself still anymore, squirming in his lap. 

“Mhm..” It’s a broken beg, your face still hiding in his neck. 

“Look at me.” He hisses gently, struggling against the friction you’ve started to build. 

You lazily lift your head to meet his eyes. He has a victorious smirk on his face. Your eyes struggle to stay open and you flutter your lids.  

“Oh, you look so pretty. All flushed and desperate.” He teases. “Tell me, what are you?”

You need release, now. Your legs try to close around his body. 

“I– ah– shit– I’m–fuck your g–good girl!” Your words exit as more of a moan than a coherent sentence. The coil in your stomach is about to burst any second. 

“I’m sorry. I can’t hear you.” He’s relishing in your struggle. 

You let out a frustrated whine. 

“I’m your good girl!” 

Spencer chuckles at just how agreeable you’ve become because of how badly you want to cum. Your brows furrow and you throw your head back, eyes squeezing shut. Just as you’re about to get your sweet release, Spencer stops. You snap your sights on him, utterly dazed, annoyed and confused. Spencer leans in, getting close enough for his whisper to reach you.

“Prove it.” 

Spoilers: Smut.

AN - When I said edging, I meant it. We’re all getting edged. Anyway first kinktober piece, I can’t promise I’ll deliver all of them in October. I’m just a girl (uni takes priority sorry guys). Also, this is kinda overdue now but thank you for 1K <3

TT has ruined so many things for me. I couldn’t write this without thinking of “asserting dominance” and giggling.

Thank you for reading!

[slvbun]

HIS BIGGEST FAN ♡ Drew Starkey

Drew's plus one for the SAG Awards was his lovely and very proud girlfriend.

content: drew x bimbo reader!, fluff, lovey dovey girlfriend, mentions of sex, a bit cheesy.

a/n: this is my first love dovey publication (got a ton unpublished), so OMG, I'M SCAREEEED!!!

english's not my first language, so sorry 4 the mistakes, lol

The SAG Awards glittered like a chandelier-lit fantasyland, and she was practically vibrating with excitement in her plush velvet seat. She’d tagged along as Drew’s plus-one, her boyfriend who’d swept her off her glitter-dusted feet six months ago with a smirk and a wink at some swanky premiere afterparty. Tonight, he was presenting an award, and she was a giddy mess, her pink Dior slip dress clinging to her like a second skin. The satin shimmered with every wiggle, barely containing her curves, the hem riding high on her tanned thighs. Her long blonde hair spilled in loose, beachy waves down her back, brushing the diamond necklace that drizzled across her collarbone, fat, teardrop gems that matched the chandelier earrings swaying against her neck. She looked like a Barbie doll dipped in stardust, and she knew it.

Her glossy pink nails clutched her bedazzled phone as the host’s voice boomed, “Presenting the award for Outstanding Performance by a Female Actor in a Drama Series, Drew Starkey and Millir Bobby Brown!”

She squealed, a high-pitched “Eeee!” escaping her pouty lips as Drew strode onto the stage.

He was perfect in his Valentino fit (she choose it for him), buzz cut that gave him that effortlessly hot look of him. Beside him, Millie glittered in a pink gown that screamed Old Hollywood, but she barely noticed her. Drew was all she saw, standing there with that kilowatt smile, being a gentleman as he adjusted the mic.

His voice smooth as whiskey, a little gravel in it that made her knees weak even from her seat. She fumbled her phone, snapping pics like a soccer mom at a recital, click-click-click, zooming in on his sharp jawline, the way his lips curled.

“He’s so freakin’ hot, ohmy, that’s my man!” she whispered, her breath hitching as she squirmed, the satin dress sliding against her skin. The guy next to her, an older director, raised an eyebrow, but she just grinned wider, snapping one last shot of her boyfriend as he waved to the audience.

The crowd erupted as he left the stage, and she was up before the applause died, her pink platform heels clacking as she bounced on her toes. Drew wove through the tables, past sequined gowns and champagne flutes, his eyes locking on her the second he got close. She couldn’t hold it in; she launched herself at him, arms wrapping around his neck as she smashed her glossy lips against his in a wet, eager kiss.

“You were so freakin’ amazing!” she gushed, voice a sugary squeak. “I’m so proud of you, like, prouder than anything ever!”

She pressed herself tighter, her curves squishing against his chest, the scent of her vanilla perfume mixing with his cedar cologne.

Drew chuckled, deep and rumbling, his big hands sliding down to grip her hips, fingers digging into the satin.

“Thanks, princess,” he murmured, lips brushing her forehead, then her cheek, before stealing a slower, hungrier kiss that left her gloss smeared on his mouth. “Couldn’t have done it without my favorite girl cheering me on.”

His blue eyes darkened, raking over her, and she felt heat pool low in her belly. But she tried to push that feeling away, they were in public.

She giggled, twirling a wave of blonde hair around her finger, batting her lashes. “I took so many pics! You looked like a total heartthrob up there, everyone’s gonna die when they see!”

She bounced again, her dress riding up a smidge, and Drew tugged her down beside him at their table, his thigh pressing against hers. Her hand slipped into his, manicured nails tracing his knuckles as she beamed, proud as hell.

“You’re too fuckin’ cute, doll,” he said, leaning close, his breath hot against her ear. “And this dress? Shit, it’s killing me. That little slip’s begging me to rip it off you later, gonna fuck you silly in the limo, bet you’d love that.” His voice was a low growl, teasing and filthy, and her blue eyes popped wide, her cheeks flaming cherry-red.

“Drew!” she gasped, swatting his chest with a playful little smack, but her giggle was shaky, her thighs squeezing together under the table. “Naughty!” She loved it, though, his dirty mouth made her all fluttery and needy. She snuggled into his side, her head on his shoulder, diamonds glinting as she sighed, “I love you so much, you’re my superstar.”

“Love you more, baby doll,” he shot back, dripping with adoration, lifting her hand to kiss her fingertips, then her wrist, his lips lingering. She squeaked, overwhelmed, and peppered his jaw with sticky kisses, leaving faint gloss prints he didn’t bother wiping off.

The night blurred on, speeches, laughter, clinking glasses, but she was lost in him. His hand stayed on her thigh, possessive and warm, and every whispered promise of what he’d do to her later sent shivers down her spine.

When they finally spilled into the limo, her giggling and him yanking her onto his lap, her dress rucked up to her hips, Drew’s hands were everywhere, groping, teasing, his mouth hot on her neck.

“Proud of me, huh?” he purred, nipping her earlobe. “Gonna show you how proud I am of this body all night.”

She melted, a puddle of love, knowing she’d never tire of being his silly, smitten doll and he’d never tire of proving it.

[dulcescorderitas]

dean seeing you wearing his leather jacket

parings: dean winchester x reader

warnings: 18+, implied smut

the sound of the motel door clicking shut barely registered, your focus locked on the way dean froze in his tracks. his boots scuffed against the cheap carpet as his green eyes swept over you, darkening with every second they lingered. his leather jacket hung loose on your shoulders, the sleeves just a little too long, the worn fabric brushing your thighs. underneath, there was nothing but your skin and the thin scrap of lace you called panties, the kind he liked so much—the ones he always swore he’d tear off one day.

his breath hitched, his jaw tightening as he raked a hand through his hair, the gesture doing little to tame the mess of it. "jesus christ," he muttered, his voice low, rough, like gravel under a slow-moving car. "you’re tryin’ to kill me, aren’t you?"

you smiled, a sly, knowing curve of your lips, and turned slightly, letting the jacket part just enough to give him a better view of the bare skin beneath. "you left this behind," you teased, your voice soft, sweet, laced with heat. "thought I’d try it on."

he took a step closer, his boots heavy against the floor, and you saw the muscle in his jaw tick again. "looks better on you than it ever did on me," he murmured, his voice thick with something darker now, his eyes glued to the expanse of your thighs where the hem of the jacket just barely covered you. "but you knew that already, didn’t you?"

his hands were on you before you could answer, rough palms sliding under the leather to grab your waist, his fingers pressing into your skin like he needed to prove to himself you were real. he tugged you closer, your chest brushing his as he bent his head, his lips hovering just above yours.

"what am i supposed to do with you, huh?" he rasped, his breath hot against your mouth, his eyes flicking between your face and the sliver of lace peeking out from beneath the jacket. "wearin’ my jacket... lookin’ like this..."

you wrapped your arms around his neck, the worn leather creaking softly as it shifted with you. "i don’t know," you whispered, letting your lips ghost over his. "but i’m sure you’ll think of something."

he growled low in his throat, the sound sending a shiver through you, and suddenly his lips were on yours, hard and claiming. his hands moved to your thighs, gripping them firmly as he walked you backward until your legs hit the edge of the bed. the jacket slipped from your shoulders as he pushed you down, his body covering yours in an instant.

"you drive me fuckin’ crazy," he muttered against your skin, his lips trailing down your neck, his stubble scratching deliciously as he kissed and bit his way lower. "always pushin’ my buttons, always knowin’ exactly what you’re doin’ to me."

his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, tugging them down with one sharp motion, his eyes dark and hungry as he looked at you laid out beneath him. "you wanna tease me, baby?" he said, his voice low, dangerous in the best way. "then you’d better be ready to take what’s comin’."

and with that, he was on you, his hands and mouth leaving no inch of you untouched, the night stretching out into something wild, something unforgettable, something that felt like it belonged to just the two of you and the leather jacket tossed carelessly to the floor.

taglist: @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @legalmente-loca @bluemerakis @whisperingdaze

[littlelamy]

𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓼𝓽 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮

the night was heavy with anticipation, the kind that pressed against your chest and made your heart race. the dim glow of the bedside lamp bathed rafe’s room in a golden hue, shadows stretching across the walls as you sat on his bed, your legs tucked beneath you. the air between you was thick, electrified, and his presence—tall, broad, and exuding a quiet intensity—felt like gravity pulling you in.

rafe stood at the edge of the bed, his sharp features softened by the vulnerability etched into his expression. his pupils were blown wide, swallowing the icy blue of his eyes, and his brows knitted together in a way that made your stomach twist with need. he looked like a man on the verge of breaking, his desire barely leashed.

“baby,” he rasped, his voice low and rough, like gravel and silk all at once. he raked a hand through his messy hair, his movements tense. “are you sure? i mean… really fucking sure? ‘cause if we do this—if i have you like this—there’s no turning back. you’ll be mine. all mine.”

you swallowed, your throat dry, and nodded. “i’m sure,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly but filled with conviction. “i want you, rafe. i need you.”

his jaw ticked at your words, and for a moment, he didn’t move, his chest heaving as he took in the sight of you. then, like a dam breaking, he surged forward, his knees hitting the mattress as his hands cupped your face. his touch was firm yet tender, his calloused fingers brushing against your skin like he was memorizing the feel of you.

“y/n,” he muttered before his lips crashed into yours. the kiss was searing, his mouth claiming yours with an urgency that sent heat pooling low in your belly. his hands slid down your sides, gripping you tightly as he pulled you closer, pressing you flush against him. your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging slightly, and the low groan he let out made you shiver.

“you’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with awe. “you have no idea how much i want you. how long i’ve wanted this.”

“then take me,” you whispered back, your voice barely audible but filled with need. “please, rafe.”

that was all it took for his restraint to snap. his hands roamed your body, mapping every inch of you as he peeled your clothes away, leaving you bare and vulnerable under his intense gaze. he paused, his eyes raking over you like he was committing every curve, every dip, every freckle to memory.

“jesus christ,” he breathed, his voice shaky. “you’re perfect, baby. absolutely fucking perfect.”

your cheeks flushed under his praise, but before you could respond, he leaned down, his lips and hands trailing over your skin, igniting a fire wherever they touched. when his mouth moved lower, pressing kisses along your stomach and thighs, your breath hitched, your body arching toward him instinctively.

“spread for me, princess,” he murmured, his voice a husky command. “let me see you.”

heat flooded your face, but you obeyed, your thighs parting to reveal yourself to him. his sharp inhale was audible, and when his gaze locked onto your puffy folds, glistening with arousal, his expression darkened with primal hunger.

“fuck, baby,” he groaned, his voice strained. “you’re so wet for me. so fucking ready. goddamn, you’re gonna ruin me.”

his hands gripped your thighs, holding you open as he leaned down, his breath ghosting over your most sensitive places. when his tongue flicked out, tasting you for the first time, a broken moan escaped your lips. he groaned against you, his voice low and guttural. “you taste like heaven, baby. so sweet. so fucking perfect.”

he didn’t rush, taking his time to explore every inch of you with his mouth, his tongue delving between your folds and teasing your clit until you were a trembling, gasping mess. your hands fisted the sheets, your hips bucking against his face as he worked you over, his groans of satisfaction sending vibrations straight through you.

“fuck, rafe,” you whimpered, your voice breathy and desperate. “i can’t—i’m gonna—”

“do it,” he growled, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. “come for me, baby. i wanna taste every fucking drop.”

and you did. your release crashed over you like a tidal wave, your body shaking as he held you down, his mouth relentless as he wrung every last ounce of pleasure from you. when he finally pulled back, his lips glistened with your arousal, and the sight sent a fresh wave of heat through you.

“you’re a fucking dream, baby,” he said, his voice rough as he climbed back up to kiss you. you could taste yourself on his lips, the intimacy of it making your head spin. “but we’re not done yet. not even close.”

he shed the rest of his clothes quickly, and when he settled between your thighs, the weight of him pressed against you, you felt utterly consumed. his cock was thick and hard, and when he slid it through your folds, coating himself in your slickness, you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“you ready, baby?” he asked, his voice gentler now, his eyes searching yours. “i don’t wanna hurt you.”

“i’m ready,” you assured him, your voice trembling with anticipation. “please, rafe.”

with a groan, he pushed inside, inch by inch, stretching you in a way that was both overwhelming and intoxicating. he stilled once he was fully seated, his forehead dropping to yours as he took a shuddering breath.

“shit,” he muttered, his voice strained. “you’re so tight. so fucking perfect.”

you moaned, your hands clutching at his back as you adjusted to the fullness of him. when you nodded, giving him the go-ahead, he began to move, slow and deliberate at first, his thrusts deep and measured. but it didn’t take long for the intensity to build, his pace quickening as he lost himself in you.

“look at me,” he rasped, his voice rough. “i need to see you, baby. need to see how good you’re taking me.”

you locked eyes with him, your breath hitching at the raw hunger and emotion in his gaze. his brows were furrowed, his jaw tight, and his pupils were blown wide, his expression a mix of pleasure and desperation.

“you’re mine,” he growled, his voice thick with possession. “every fucking inch of you is mine.”

“i’m yours,” you gasped, your voice breaking as pleasure surged through you. “and you’re mine, rafe. always.”

the world around you dissolved as the two of you moved together, your bodies and souls completely in sync. it was messy, intense, and utterly perfect, every moan, every gasp, every whispered curse a testament to the depth of your connection.

when it was over, you lay tangled in his arms, your head resting on his chest as his fingers traced lazy circles on your back. he pressed a kiss to your hair, his voice soft and full of contentment as he murmured, “you’re mine, baby. forever.”

“and you’re mine, bubba,” you replied, your voice barely audible as sleep began to pull you under.

the night stretched on, the two of you wrapped up in each other, the world outside forgotten as your hearts beat in perfect unison.

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd d @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah

[rafesbows]

u keep comin back to rafe (ヽ´ω`)

rafe leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, looking down at you with that lazy smirk that makes your stomach twist. "knew you’d come back," he murmurs, eyes raking over your teary face, the way you shift like you're embarrassed. "so predictable, baby."

you sniffle, tugging at the hem of your tiny skirt, lip trembling as you stare up at him. "didn’t mean it," you whisper. "missed you."

he exhales through his nose, shaking his head like you’re pathetic, but he still steps aside, letting you in. and the second the door shuts, he’s got you pinned against it, big hands spreading your thighs as he presses his hips into yours.

"missed me, huh?" he taunts, his voice all gravel as his fingers slip under your skirt. "bet you were layin’ in bed, all pouty ‘n lonely, thinking about how bad you fucked up."

you nod frantically, already breathless, already melting as he cups you over your panties, feeling how warm and soaked you are for him.

"poor baby," he coos, mock sympathy dripping from his tone. "needy little thing doesn’t know what to do without me, huh?"

you shake your head, whimpering, fingers clutching his shirt as he slides your panties aside, rubbing slow, teasing circles over your clit.

rafe chuckles, deep and low. "s’fine. lucky for you, i like you pathetic."

rafe’s got you face-down on the couch, back arched, your cheek pressed against the cushion as he presses his weight over you. his chest is hot against your back, his breath heavy by your ear as he grinds his cock between your folds, teasing, making you whimper.

“this what you wanted?” he murmurs, lips brushing your temple. “wanted me to fuck the attitude outta you?”

you nod frantically, fingers clawing at the cushions as he finally pushes in, stretching you open, making you gasp.

“fuck, baby,” rafe groans, dragging his hips back before snapping forward, filling you up again. “needy little thing… can’t go a day without me stuffing this pretty pussy, huh?”

his pace is brutal, deep and slow at first, making you feel every inch of him, every drag against your walls. but when you start squirming, moaning, pushing your hips back to meet him, he growls, gripping your wrists and pinning them behind your back.

“so desperate,” he taunts, his thrusts getting rougher, faster, his cock hitting that perfect spot that has you whining. “bet you thought about this all night, didn’t you? cryin’ into your pillow, wishin’ i’d just take you back and fuck you stupid.”

you can only moan in response, eyes rolling back as his hand slides under your body, fingers circling your clit.

“gonna let me hear it, baby?” he rasps, his voice tight as he fucks you harder, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “gonna show me how bad you missed me?”

and when you do, when you break apart with a whimpering cry, shaking, soaking his cock—he groans, pulling you flush against him as he spills inside you, filling you up like he owns you.

rafe presses his lips to the back of your neck, panting, still buried deep. then, with a smirk, he murmurs, “knew you’d come back for this.”

@ rafesbows

[vanteguccir]

idk if this is allowed cuz it’s hella freaky but dom!chris cumming in your panties as a punishment and you go out to run errands and if you must behave he rubs it in your cunt

── ୨୧ !　SMUT BLURB

pervert!chris sturniolo x reader

where chris came in your panties while you were out and now he's gonna make you cum while rubbing it in you

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The air in the room was thick, charged with tension, and the strong scent of arousal. Y/N lay sprawled across the bed, her body fully exposed to Chris’s intense gaze. Her skin was hot, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she watched him kneel at the edge of the mattress.

"Y'look so pretty like this." He hums thoughtfully, raking long, slim fingers around Y/N's ankle, traveling his short nails across her hypersensitive skin. "Should keep you like this forever."

The way his eyes roamed over her - hungry, possessive, and filled with desire - made her heart race, and her thighs press together instinctively.

But Chris wasn’t having that.

"Uh uh. Spread them, princess." He commanded, his voice low and rough, a tone that sent a shiver straight down her spine.

A whine escaped her throat as her body obeyed, her legs falling open to reveal her aching core. She felt exposed and vulnerable, but the fire in his eyes made her feel anything but ashamed. If anything, the intensity of his gaze only made her wetter.

In his hand, he held the delicate lace of her underwear - the pair she’d pulled out of their shared closet earlier, damp and wrinkled, full of his white and almost dry cum. He brought them up to his face, inhaling deeply, and his eyes fluttered shut for a moment as if reliving the moment he'd came so fucking hard between the fabric. When he opened his eyes again, they were darker, his smirk dripping with sin.

"You smell so fucking good." He murmured, his voice like gravel. "I couldn’t help m'self, y'know? I had to touch my dick while thinking about this pretty little pussy of yours."

Y/N whimpered, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her as a flood of heat pooled above her gaping hole, feeling her head spinning.

"Chris." She whispered, her voice shaky, barely audible over the pounding of her heart.

He leaned over her, bracing one hand on the bed beside her as he brought the lace between her thighs. The damp fabric brushed against her folds, and she gasped, her back arching off the mattress at the sensation. It was cool and sticky.

"Feel that?" He growled, his lips brushing against her ear as he moved the fabric with slow strokes. "That’s me, baby. All over your underwear."

Y/N’s breathing hitched, her body trembling as the fabric dragged over her clit, spreading the mixture of his cum and her arousal. It was filthy, decadent, and unlike anything she’d ever experienced.

"You're sick." She mutters, spreading her legs even more to his eyes and hand.

"Mm." Chris ignores her comment. She was right. He was probably just as sick as she was. "You’re cute like this." He teases instead, wetting his lips.

The damp lace clung to her sensitive skin, massaging her bud of nerves, the texture creating an amazing warm friction that had her thighs quivering.

"Chris." She gasped, her hands reaching out to grip his forearms, needing something - anything - to ground herself. "It feels so- oh, God- dirty."

He chuckled darkly, his free hand sliding up her body to cup her tit, his thumb flicking over her hardened nipple.

"That’s because it is, princess." He murmured, his tone dripping with lust. "And I know that you're loving it, huh?"

Her head fell back against the pillows, a moan tearing from her lips as her hips bucked against the underwear, feeling his middle finger covered with the fabric teasing her hole.

"Yes." She admitted, her voice a broken whisper. "I love it."

Chris groaned, pressing his palm against her clit, his movements becoming more deliberate, her pussy taking on an irritated red color by the second.

"You’re so fucking wet." He groaned, his eyes glued to the way her pussy moved under his touch. "So messy, all covered in me, right, doll?"

Y/N hums, then nods.

"Yeah, Chris." She agrees, forcing their eyes to meet as his hand kept moving. "S'your stupid fault."

Chris buckles his hips under her gaze, breath hitching and eyes lidding as he tries not to grind against Y/N’s legs.

"Can't' blame me for everything, pretty girl."

He smirked, leaning down to capture her lips in a rough kiss. His tongue delved into her mouth, tangling with hers, creating a wet, messy kiss, their moans mingling as the tension in her body coiled tighter and tighter.

Without warning, he shifted the lace, wrapping it tightly around one of his fingers. He moved slowly while keeping her distracted with his tongue, pressing the covered digit against her entrance, teasing her with the slick, rough texture.

Her breath hitched, her eyes flying open to meet his already opened ones as he pushed it inside her in one unrelenting thrust. The sensation was immediate - raw, dirty, and deliciously invasive.

"Oh, God- Jesus." She cried out, her hips jolting at the unknown intrusion. The lace scraped against her walls, the friction bringing her the best feeling of pain and pleasure as he twisted his finger inside her.

"Feels good, doesn’t it?" Chris cooed, slowing his movements for a beat, drawing it out and making Y/N cry out in protest.

"Yes." She choked out, her nails clawing at his biceps skin. "Feels so good." Her clit throbbed so hard she swore she could feel it in her head. "M'so close." She whimpered, her voice desperate as her hips bucked into his hand, forcing his finger deeper inside her.

"Yeah? Then cum for me, princess." He growled, his voice rough and commanding. "I want to feel you soak this. Show me how good it feels."

The combination of his words, the relentless thrust of his finger, and the rough texture inside her was too much. Her body arched off the bed, her thighs squeezing around his hand as her orgasm crashed over her in a violent, blinding wave.

"Chris!" She screamed, her voice breaking as her release flooded over him, soaking the lace even more. The mess was obscene, dripping down her ass cheeks, her entire body trembling uncontrollably as the pleasure consumed her.

Chris moaned, his eyes dark with satisfaction as he watched her fall apart beneath him.

"That’s it." He murmured, his voice thick with arousal. "Fuck, that's so hot."

He slowly pulled his finger out, the lace slick and dripping, and held it up to her lips.

"Open." He ordered, his voice rough with arousal. When she obeyed, he slipped the soaked fabric between her lips, letting her taste their mixed releases as he pressed it against her tongue. "Good girl."

He leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss from her forehead to her lips, tossing the ruined panties somewhere onto the floor without a second thought.

"You’re so beautiful." Chris muttered against Y/N's mouth, hand now pressing down into the small of her stomach. "I’ll never get enough of you."

She smiled weakly, breath hitching when Chris's fingers dip down towards her pulsing pussy before skirting back up.

"No way you're ever topping this." She mutters.

Chris grins.

"Is that a challenge, princess?"

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"!

[mountainsandmayhem]

Shhh...Just A Little Bit More

DBF!Joel x Fem!Reader

18+ MDNI

Masterlist || Part Two || Part Three (Soft Version) || Part Three (Spicy Version)

Summary: Joel catches you somewhere you shouldn't be, twice. CW: all p no plot! age gap, spanking, dirty talk, parental guilt, brat and brat tamer, sub/dom dynamics, edging and degradation kinks if you squint AN: I found the bottom right photo on Pinterest and @mermaidgirl30 said it screamed DBF!Joel. I have never written for DBF before so please be kind. Dividers by @saradika-graphics - thank you for all your amazing graphics and dividers, I'd be lost without your page.

“Let go of me, you fucking psycho!” You’re practically yelling over the music of the club, wrenching your arm from Joel’s strong grasp. The security guard approaches and Joel shoots him a glare so dark that he holds his hands up and steps back. “What the fuck, Joel?”

“What are ya doin’ here, sweetheart” he demands, one eyebrow raised. 

“I’m working!” You stomp your foot and then get right up in his face, pointing a finger at him. Joel Miller, your dad’s best friend, hanging out in a strip club one town over. “The real question is, what are YOU doin here?” 

You’re only a bottle girl, you don’t get on the stage and have no intentions of stripping. It’s good money, great money actually. At 22 you’re already well on your way to having a down payment on a condo, it’s just too bad you’re having to lie to your parents. 

“With my crew, they picked the place. I’m takin’ you home. Go get your coat.” He crosses his arms over his chest, staring at you sternly. The music is pounding in your ears, the air thick with smoke. Even in the dimly lit hallway you can see the way Joel’s eyes rake over your body, taking in the very tiny Jean shorts and bralette you’re wearing. 

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you spin and flip him the bird as you walk away. You know he’s staring so you give a little extra wiggle of your ass as you walk away. Joel Miller, staring at your ass. The fourteen year old inside you does a happy dance - that version of yourself had a tiny crush on him. Too bad he’s a stuffy, grumpy asshole now. You miss the fun, young Joel. He used to do cannonballs in the pool with you and his daughter Sarah. She was a few years older than you, but he was much more fun than your father. But now? Now he’s a certified prick. Thinking he can drag you away like some sort of barbaric caveman. He’s not your dad, even if he was, you’re an adult. 

When you finish your shift you head outside and pull up your Uber app, men often want to do shots with you so even though you never get drunk at work you also don’t drive there. 

See, Joel. I’m responsible. 

“Let’s go,” his voice is deep, still angry with you. You didn’t see him waiting by the door so you jump. 

“Jesus. You fucking scared me.” 

“Watch your language. Get in the truck.” 

You grumble under your breath that he should kiss your ass as he holds the door open for you. He stalks around to his side of the truck while furrowing his brow and shaking his head. 

“Got somethin’ to say young lady?” 

“Ya,” you say, slumping in the seat and putting your white vans on his dashboard, “kiss my ass.” 

He presses his lips in a thin line, you can see him eyeing your long toned legs from your peripheral vision before the engine roars to life and he speeds off down the gravel highway. 

When you pull up to the house he hops out of the truck and is right on your heels as you open the door. 

“I’m fine, Mister Miller.” You say with a sneer. You know he hates that, he has told everyone he’s ever been introduced to to call him Joel. 

Joel steps into your parents house and calls your dad’s name. “What the fuck! Joel! Shut up!” 

He calls for him again and your dad comes stumbling from his room, tying his robe around his sleeping attire. “Joel? What’s going on?” He flicks on the light, squinting against the brightness. “It’s 3 in the morning.” 

“Just thought I’d let you now know that the guys at work wanted to go to The Skin tonight. Caught your daughter working there.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me, Joel?!” You yell, pushing at his broad chest. Your dad stands there stunned. Eyes wide and mouth agape. He thought you were working as a nurses aide overnight at the hospital on weekends. He’s even seen you leave the house in scrubs. All a part of the web of lies you have weaved. 

“Don’t speak to Joel that way,” your dad snaps. “Go to your room young lady. We’ll talk about this later.” 

“Kiss my ass, cowboy.” You practically spit at him as you stomp to your room. As you round the corner your mom is standing in the hallway clutching her crucifix necklace. You have a sudden urge to hiss at her with the way she’s looking at you, like you’re a disappointment. A sinner, the worst kind of person in her eyes. 

The next morning was the fight of all fights with your parents. Your dad tried to ground you, your mom started shoving church pamphlets at you. They wouldn’t even fucking listen. 

“IM NOT A STRIPPER,” you yelled at them over and over again. 

Finally, when the yelling ceased, your dad said in a very quiet anger, “young lady. I FORBID you from going there again. Is that clear? I don’t care if you’re 22 or 42, if you live under my roof, you live by my rules. You’re going to go to continue going to your university classes during the week, and on weekends you will be home. Studying. Helping your mother with the chores. You will go to bed at respectable hour. If you need money, you ask us. Is that clear?” 

You blink back tears and head to your room, slamming the door behind you. You are NOT quitting that job. 

When the next weekend rolls around you say goodnight to your parents at 10pm and head to your room. You worked it out with your boss to work the midnight to 4 am shift. So you wait - ear pressed to your door until you finally hear your parents go to bed. You sneak out the same way you’ve been sneaking out for years and run down the street with your newly embroidered denim shorts in hand to meet your Uber. 

You peel yourself away from the men and the booze around 2am to get some fresh air, exiting through the back to the dimly lit alley. You take a big inhale through your nose before you see it. The truck. Joel’s truck. And Joel. Leaning against the truck box, arms crossed, one foot up on the tire. 

You flip him off and then turn back towards the back entrance to the club. He’s on you so fast, grabbing the back of your bicep in his large hand. “You little brat. You aren’t supposed to be here.” 

“Read the shorts, MISTER Miller.” You say it as much venom as you can muster. 

His eyes rake down your body and you can almost feel them burning into you. It feels so good, you never want him to stop. Your pussy throbbed when he called you a brat and you wouldn’t be surprised if your light jean shorts hadn’t been soaked through already. When his eyes reach the pocket he sees ‘Kiss My Ass, Cowboy’ stitched in baby pink lettering and his grip tightens. 

He’s fucking furious with you. Furious that you’re here. Furious that other men get to see you dressed like this. Furious that he wants you so fucking badly. But mostly, furious because he knows you want him too and he’s a weak weak man when it comes to pretty little things like you. He yanks you back against his body and you let out a pained moan. 

“Don’t make me punish you,” he says coldly in your ear and you fight to stop your knees from buckling. 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you say breathlessly. 

Joel’s lips graze against the shell of your ear, hand gripping so tightly that you’re sure you’ll have bruises tomorrow. “So that’s what you want? You want me to punish you? Put you in your place? Huh?” 

You grind your ass back against him, “you would dare, Joel.” 

His other hand clamps down on your hip as he steers you to his truck, walking you around so no one can see the two of you. He opens the back door and pushes you forward until your legs are against the cold steel frame of the vehicle. “You don’t get to call me that. You call me Mr Miller from now on. Understood?” 

“Go fuck yourself, Joel,” you emphasize every vowel of his name, digging deeper. Pushing him. Pushing to see how far he’ll go. You get off on being a brat, and by the way his hard cock is pressing into your ass, he does too. 

He unbottons your shorts then lifts you slightly and pushes your upper body down onto the seat, the truck is high enough that your feet are dangling, ass stuck out for him. “Look at these slutty little shorts.” He tugs on the hem, your shorts now sitting just above your knees. Your pert ass is exposed to Joel and the night air. He tuts at the sight of you, “No panties. Little fuckin’ tease.” 

You whimper at his words, slick starting to coat your thighs. “You’re the one standing back there doing nothing.” You taunt. 

The cool night air spreads goosebumps across your skin, your clit twitches in anticipation of his touch. Other men have fucked you hard to get you to shut your mouth. And finally, FINALLY, you’re going to get fucked by Joel Miller. However, you grossly underestimated the different between the boys were with before and the man behind you now. 

His hand strikes your cheek hard and you let out a loud pained yell. “What the fuck, Joel!” 

“If you’re gonna be a brat,” his hand lands on your ass again, “you’re going to get a spanking.” His voice is harsh and rough as he hits you a third time. The sound of his skin on yours echoing through the cab of his truck. He hits you again, not caring about your cries of protest. 

You’ve never been spanked before and you’re thrown by your bodies reaction to it. At first you were shocked, then humiliated and then the pain and heat travelled to the base of your spine and you found yourself starting to get turned on. Arousal pools in your belly with each strike of his palm and when your pussy throbs the humiliation starts to creep back in. Are you supposed to be enjoying this so much, is this what Joel wants?

You bend your knees up, trying to make space between your bodies. One of his strong hands wraps around your ankles, pinning them to the back of your thighs as he spanks you again. 

“Stop! I’m sorry. I’ll - “ he strikes you again, harder than the last few times and there’s no more pain, every slap is full of pleasure. You let out a deep moan, your pussy practically gushing onto the leather seats. “Oh fuuuuck.”

Now that it’s turning you on it almost eggs Joel on. “Put your hands out in front of you,” he commands. Your arms shoot out, stretching them across the seat above your head. “Such a needy little slut. You’re drippin’ all over my fucking seat, baby girl.” He strikes you again and your arms flinch. “Keep them there.” 

Your ass is starting to get pink, his splotchy handprints covering it. The world around him starts to fade, all that he can see is you and your ass - and he wants to make it hurt. Then he wants to make it good. So very good. 

His strikes keep coming, he’s like a man possessed. “Stop, Joel. Please.” 

He drops your ankles, then uses his hand to spread your thighs apart, the denim biting into your knees. “Shhh…just a little bit more. Look at this messy pussy. You don’t want me to stop.” 

He hits you again and you start to hate how much he’s right. You don’t want him to stop, you’re on the verge of coming and he hasn’t even touched you yet. You’re sure the second he’s near your clit you’ll explode. 

Both of your cheeks are glowing red and Joel finally stops. You’ve both lost track of how many times he’s hit you. His large palm rubs the marks. You know you should keep your mouth shut, but fuck do you love to rile him up. 

“Are you done now? I have work to get back to.” 

Joel growls behind you. You hear the sound of his belt undoing, the leather whipping out from the demin loops. “I’m sick of your goddamn mouth, baby girl.” 

Your eyes widen in fear, stomach twisting up over the thought of him striking your sore ass with his thick leather belt. Your pussy, however, flutters in excitement. Slut, you think to yourself. 

You hear his buckle clinking, he grabs you by the hair and jerks your head back. “Open you mouth,” he says with a snarl. You obey him and he slides the folded up leather between your teeth. “Bite down on this. You can speak to me again once you’ve learned your lesson.” 

You press your teeth into the rough leather, waiting for his next move. His hand comes across the back of your thigh and it’s a whole different sensation. The pain shoots straight to your core, the walls of your pussy clenching harder than your teeth do as you whine out a high pitched squeal. On instinct your hands shoot back, knees bending to protect yourself from him. He steps back from you, without his heat you’re left in the cold air. 

“Arms up and legs down,” he says in an eerily calm voice. 

You whimper again, grinding your teeth against the leather of his belt before slowly peeling your arms and legs away from your body, returning to Joel’s desired position. You’re so wet that it’s staring pool along the leather seat of Joel’s truck, your hips slipping slightly. 

“Dirty little thing. I’m tryin to punish you and you’re sopping wet.” He steps forward and lays a loud sharp slap with perfect precision right across your sore thigh. 

You yelp again, whining as your lash line fills with tears. This is not what you thought would happen when Joel threatened to punish you. And you definitely didn’t expect to fucking love it. You’re so turned on that you feel dizzy. 

Joel’s lips come to your thigh. Light kisses and his scratchy facial hair peppering along your red hot skin. “Fuck me,” you say around the leather clamped between your teeth. 

Joel laughs into your skin, kissing along the handprints he’s left on your ass. You’re squirming underneath him, pushing your ass towards his face, desperate for him to make you come. His hands grip around your shorts and your whole body relaxes at the thought of him finally fucking you. “I need you to listen to me now, ok?” 

You nod fervently and he lets out an amused laugh. You arch your back at him invitingly, but instead of removing your shorts he yanks them back up. You moan out in protest as he lifts you down from the truck. His strong fingers work to do up your shorts before he spins you. You look like a wreck; mascara smudged under your eyes, cheeks pink, eyes glazed and dopey looking. Cock drunk and he hasn’t even given it to you. He grabs the belt and you release it for him. It’s killing him not to fuck you right here and now. 

His hand cups your chin, squeezing your cheeks and locking eyes with you. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

You try to nod but he’s gripping you so tightly. “Yea? Then you need to do what I say. Ok?” 

“Mm-hmm” 

“Go in there and quit. Then come back out here and I will fuck you so hard that you’ll feel it in your throat.” 

Taglist:

@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44 @keylimebeag  @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot @lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @baar-ur @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog @pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde  @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @iloveenya @javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @mermaidgirl30

[bitterrfruit]

Wild Cherries

John Price x f!Reader tags/cw: modern western AU, cowboys, mean!John Price, chasing, spanking, light sadomasochism, age gap (ish), brat taming, dubcon if you squint, smut wc: 4.9k 18+ mdni

Jonathan Price owns the ranch that neighbours your family's. You've got a bad habit of hopping the fence between them, snooping and stealing, leaving little traces of your misbehaviour behind. What happens when you poke the bear?

✼ Read the full chapter on Ao3 ✼

Jonathan was almost as tall, near as wide as the doorframe he stood in. He glanced above you, expecting someone taller, before he craned his head downward to look at you, and you felt your heart flip behind your sternum.

“Well,” he huffed, voice hoarse from a day’s worth of yelling. His stare narrowed as he soaked you in, crow’s-feet creased; piercing eyes raked from your head to your feet, painfully slowly, and back up again. “Ain’t you a nice surprise.” 

His cocksure voice was rumbling and deep, it sunk under your skin and made you turn pink. You had only ever heard him shouting, heard his roars in the distance when he chastised either you or his ranchmen. Now he uttered his words so low that you could hear the gravel in his throat, it made you want to press your ear to his padded chest and feel the vibrations of his sonorous voice directly from its origin. 

You took the same time to inspect him - realising you hadn’t ever seen him up this close, close enough to smell him. He smelt of hard work and cigar smoke, salt and musk, the warmth of his mammoth body reached out and touched you as if the evening air was suddenly cold. His smoky blue t-shirt had stains of sweat between his broad pectorals and down from his neck, the cotton coated in dust - he had only just turned in from a long day of wrangling, hadn’t yet had the chance to shower or to change. 

He lifted a bronzed and furry arm to lean his elbow against the jamb of the door, so thick with well-earned muscle they threatened to tear the sleeves of his shirt with the slightest flex. You wondered if he picked up his cows with his bare arms, carried them around like they weighed no more than bales of hay. 

His cheeks were ruddy with sunburn and vigour, his firm jaw coated by a dark and barely kempt beard, specked with silvers. His expression was stern, though a glimmer of interest in his steel-blue eyes belied his severity. Heavy lids hung low by virtue of looking down at you, his lips in an analytical curl under the thick moustache that grew under his nose. 

You blinked up at him, and opened your lips to speak - but a gruff snicker from him sucked the air from your lungs before you could utter a word to greet him. 

“Brought me a gift?” He asked richly, glare stuck on you and not the sack of ruby-red jam you hung from your fingers. 

Finding yourself, you gave him a pursed smile. “Lawrence made me come and say hi.” 

“Made you, did he?” He snorted, oozing a knowing arrogance. 

“Yep,” you said, lifting the bag to present it to him. “Eve cooked up some jam.” 

You saw his temples bulge as his jaw clenched tightly, expression sinking into what looked to you like twisted disappointment. 

“Nice o’ you,” he grunted disinterestedly, paying no mind to your olive branch. After a troubled sigh, he asked; “Where’ve you been, lil’ miss Honeybee?” 

The use of your nickname made gooseflesh shiver down your spine. He could only have heard that from your siblings or their ranchmen - how often had they spoken to him? Discussed you while you weren’t there to hear it? Last you thought, they never interacted at all. Now, he seemed to mock you with it. 

But he uttered it so casually, with such a coating of sugar, that it rinsed you like praise. 

“Just working,” you replied flatly, shuffling on your feet, vaguely embarrassed to admit you had abandoned the job already. “In the city.” 

“Mh,” he hummed, giving you a placid nod. “Back for good?”

You bit back the smirk that coaxed your lips. “Maybe.” 

“I’ll have to build a taller fence, then, won’t I?” 

Unable to discern if there was any humour in the forcefulness of his tone, your tongue curled behind your teeth as you tried to find a response that wouldn’t incriminate you. 

And you failed. “I’m a good climber.” 

He didn’t quite smile, you saw his chest rise and fall with a hounded breath. 

“I bet you are.” 

an: hey y'all, as some may recognise, this is the extendo version of my old drabble 'cowboy price'. Not yet the part 3 that many of you were asking for (i'm sorry), but there will be many more parts to come, and I hope they will sate our collective hunger for horny western Price!!

Above is only a snippet, the rest is on my Ao3. love youuuu <3

[shybluebirdninja]

Dominate

Summary: He doesn’t care about the wedding vows—Bucky’s version of marriage is total control, and he’ll make sure you know it.

Pairings           : Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader

Note                 : non-consensual elements, forced marriage

You should’ve known better than to think Bucky would play by any of the rules. The minute the ring slid on your finger, it wasn’t just a vow to love and cherish—it was a goddamn ownership. That’s what he wanted, what he made sure you understood every time his metal hand gripped your throat just a little too tight, his eyes dark with something dangerous.

Tonight, it felt heavier.

The room was dim, the air thick, and you could feel his presence before he even stepped in. Like a storm about to break, tension crackling all around. Bucky didn’t do soft and sweet. He didn’t do gentle. He did control. Every damn breath you took belonged to him now.

The door creaked, and your stomach tightened. You heard the heavy footsteps, the subtle clink of his metal fingers flexing, the way the air shifted as his massive frame filled the doorway.

“Get up.”

It wasn’t a request. His voice was a low growl, dark, commanding. Your body reacted instantly, muscles tight, your pulse quickening like prey caught in a predator’s snare. You couldn’t defy him, not now. Not ever. The bed was suddenly too soft, too confining, but as you stood, the heat between your legs was undeniable.

Bucky’s eyes raked over you, slow and heavy, as if stripping you with nothing but his gaze. His flesh hand reached out, hooking around your waist, dragging you close enough that you could feel the hard edge of his body pressed against yours. The way his chest rose and fell, the hunger in his eyes—it sent a shiver straight down your spine.

“You scared, doll?” His lips curled into a smirk, breath hot against your ear. “You should be. You belong to me now. Completely.”

His words weren’t romantic. They were a threat, wrapped up in something much darker, much more twisted. He was staking his claim, making sure you knew just how deep this went.

His hands gripped the thin fabric of your dress, tearing it down the middle with a sharp pull. “Fuck the pretty vows,” he growled, his voice like gravel. “You think I care about that shit? I don't give a damn about promises. I only care about you, every fucking inch of you being mine.”

His metal hand traced along your bare skin, cold and unyielding. You whimpered, but the sound only seemed to encourage him, his lips finding the sensitive spot on your neck, biting down hard enough to make you gasp. He chuckled, low and dark. “That’s right, baby. I like hearing you beg.”

You didn’t say anything. Hell, you couldn’t. Words were caught in your throat as his hand slid lower, brushing over your thigh, making you quiver beneath his touch. The roughness of it all—the dominance, the intensity—had your body aching for him in ways that were far from innocent.

“Look at you,” he rasped, his voice rough against your skin. “All needy already, huh? You like being owned, don’t you? Knew you would.” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, biting again, harder this time. “Tell me you fucking love it.”

Your lips parted, the words barely coming out, but that didn’t stop him. His hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your head spin. “Say it.”

“I… I love it,” you whispered, breath hitching.

“Good girl.” His smirk deepened, and his grip tightened, the power behind it leaving you dizzy, craving more. “Gonna make sure you never forget who you belong to.”

And just like that, he had you pinned against the wall, his hips grinding into yours, hard and demanding. You could feel his arousal pressing against you, and it only made the heat between your legs intensify. His lips found yours, but it wasn’t a kiss—it was an invasion, his tongue dominating yours, owning every bit of you in the process.

He pulled back, panting slightly as he grabbed your jaw roughly, forcing you to look him in the eyes. “You think you can walk away from me?” His tone was mocking, dangerous. “Nah. I’ll fuck you so hard, you won’t even want to.”

Without warning, he flipped you around, your chest pressed against the cold wall as his metal hand gripped your wrists, pinning them above your head. You were completely at his mercy. And Bucky? He fucking loved it.

“You’re gonna scream my name,” he growled into your ear, his breath hot against your neck. “And when you do, you’ll remember this is forever, doll.”

You could feel him behind you, the raw heat of his body pressing into yours as he pushed your legs apart. The tension in the room was thick, electric, as he took his time teasing you, dragging his fingers over your soaked folds. Your body arched, a moan slipping past your lips, but he wasn’t satisfied.

“Not yet,” he hissed, yanking you back by your hair. “You don’t come until I say. Understand?”

Your breath was ragged, heart racing as you nodded frantically. “Y-Yes, Bucky.”

“Good.” He chuckled, dark and low. “You’ll learn to obey.”

Then, without warning, he thrust into you, hard and deep, forcing a cry from your throat. His grip on your hair tightened, pulling you back against him as he moved, relentless and rough, every thrust making your knees buckle. The sound of skin against skin filled the room, and you couldn’t hold back the moans that spilled from your lips.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby,” he groaned, his voice thick with lust. “Take it. Fucking take it.”

His pace quickened, each thrust more brutal than the last, his body dominating yours in every way possible. The intensity, the rawness—it was overwhelming, consuming, and you loved every second of it.

“I’ll never let you go,” he growled, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he drove into you harder. “You’re mine. Forever.”

You could feel the pressure building, your body trembling as his hand slipped between your legs, rubbing your clit with rough, practiced strokes. He knew exactly how to push you over the edge, and he did it mercilessly.

“Come for me,” he demanded, his breath hot against your ear. “Come on, doll. Let go.”

And you did—shuddering and gasping as the pleasure crashed over you, your body convulsing in his arms. But Bucky wasn’t done. He held you there, his movements never slowing, dragging you through wave after wave of overwhelming pleasure until you were a trembling mess beneath him.

When he finally released you, his grip loosened, and you collapsed against the wall, panting and spent. But Bucky? He was still rock hard, still hungry.

“You think we’re done?” he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement as he pulled you back up. “We’ve only just started, doll.” And as his lips found yours again, rough and demanding, you knew—this wasn’t a marriage. This was a fucking surrender.

[readerviews]

MEET THE AUTHOR! A conversation with Michael Pronko – Author of “Shitamachi Scam,” part of the Detective Hiroshi Series

Today, Reader Views talks with Michael Pronko about his book, Shitamachi Scam #reading #meettheauthor #authorinterview #readerviews

Shitamachi Scam Michael PronkoRaked Gravel Press (2023)ISBN:  978-1942410317Reviewed by Tammy Ruggles for Reader Views (12/2023) Michael Pronko is a Tokyo-based author who writes in three genres—murder, memoir, and music. He has written about Japanese culture, art, jazz, society, architecture, and politics for Newsweek Japan, The Japan Times, Artscape Japan, as well as other publications. He…

[anonomano]

Connection ~ Carlos Sainz

Part three

Mafia!Carlos Sainz x Fem,Arranged!Reader

Prolouge Part one Part two

synopsis: The beginning of the marriage

warnings: Mean carlos

You hadn’t seen Carlos since your wedding night. It had been three weeks; for all of those three weeks Carlos had been off on a business trip. A trip nobody would tell you any details about. You suppose you were thankful for the space, you couldn’t stop thinking about your wedding night; how he walked out right after.

As the days passed, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief and anxiety. On one hand, you were grateful for the distance between you and Carlos, it gave you time to process what had happened on your wedding night.

On the other hand, the uncertainty of his return weighed heavily on your mind. You wondered what kind of mood he would be in when he finally returned home. Would he still be indifferent towards you, or would he have changed in some way during his absence?

You tried to distract yourself from your thoughts by throwing yourself into your daily routine. You cooked, cleaned, and took care of the house. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the back of your mind.

Every time you heard a car outside, your heart would skip a beat, wondering if it was Carlos returning home.

As the time ticked on, the anticipation grew even stronger. You tried to occupy yourself with other things, but your eyes kept drifting towards the clock, counting down the minutes until Carlos's return.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. Your heart leapt into your throat as you froze in place, waiting for the inevitable sound of the front door opening.

You heard the car door slam shut, followed by the sound of footsteps on the gravel path leading up to the front door. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you waited, your hands clenched into fists at your sides.

The door handle turned, and Carlos stepped into the house. He looked tired and travel-worn, his clothes rumpled and his hair disheveled.

He paused in the doorway, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on you. He looked at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable.

He didn't say anything, simply standing there and taking you in. You could feel his gaze raking over your body, as if he was trying to see if anything had changed since he left.

As Carlos continued to look at you, he couldn't help but notice the changes in your appearance. You looked more mature, more refined. Your features had lost some of their youthful softness, replaced by a more defined and elegant look.

He let out a low whistle, a small smirk playing on his lips as he took a step closer to you.

He closed the distance between you, standing mere inches away from you. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch surprisingly gentle.

"You've grown up." he said, his voice low and rough.

He let his hand linger on your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. His eyes roamed over your face, taking in every detail.

He moved even closer, his body now pressed against yours. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, making your skin tingle.

He leaned in, his face now mere inches away from yours. His breath was warm against your skin as he spoke again, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

"You look absolutely stunning." he whispered, his eyes darkening with desire.

He seemed to notice the change in your demeanor, the way you stiffened slightly at his touch and the indifferent look in your eyes.

He chuckled softly, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Still playing hard to get, I see." he said, pulling away slightly.

He took a step back, a smirk still playing on his lips. He looked you up and down again, his eyes lingering on your body for a moment before meeting your gaze once more.

"You know, it's cute when you try to resist me." he said, his tone teasing.

He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall as he continued to look at you. His smirk widened as he spoke again.

"But we both know that eventually, you'll give in."

“To what, Carlos?”

He pushed himself off the wall and took a step closer to you again, his voice taking on a more commanding tone.

"To me." he said simply, his eyes glinting with a hint of possessiveness.

——————————————————————————

The longer Carlos was home the more difficult things got for you. He would walk around sweaty and shirtless in the mornings; you had to admit, no matter how irritating you found him, he was a very attractive man.

You would overhear him talking with his sisters about the changes to the business since his father died, you would also overhear him with other women. That hurt. It especially hurt considering you coincidentally found yourself surrounded by only women when he was not around. He didn’t trust you.

——————————————————————————

“So… when are you thinking of having children?”

the question struck you. You thought back to a conversation you had with your mother before getting married. That you should focus on having children and raising a family. The only problem was that you weren’t sure if Carlos was interested in that.

“I…I’m not sure. Don’t get me wrong..I would love one..but I am not sure if Carlos is ready”

“Can’t you just talk to him?”

That was a question that struck you deeply.

@formulas-bitch @ini3103

[schlobba]

⋆.ೃ࿔* :･ lasso.ᐟ ft. erwin smith

( 🗒️: love erwin smsmsm )

⋆.ೃ࿔*𐔌 synopsis゛ remorsefully, your fiancé makes up for trying your patience. reassuring you he has no intention of dodging the responsibility of marriage, in fact, he wants to practice consummation as many times as you allow.

⋆.ೃ࿔*𐔌 ♯: fem!readr; most lowercase intended; breedingg ofc; mating press; oral (f); country life; domestic/homestead; engaged; pet names: diamond, sugar ‎ ‎ ‎ ⓘ wrd count: 3.2k

ꉂ`⟡···· “y’know my dress might needa be a little bigger by then, right?” “’course, diamond… how else are we gonna fit that behind?”

➜ darby, montana

( 1898 ) 12:02 pm

fall sent whipping breezes throughout the acres of land erwin had so lovingly tended, the head of his horse emerging first from the thick tree ridge. your nape greeted him in place of that sweet as syrup smile he’d grown accustomed to. a ways down the hill divided by a dirt path, carving knife warm with your sweat cutting into an apple, nectar running down your wrists while taking pieces for yourself.

the herd stayed closely knitted, expecting ewes grazing peacefully under the territorial eye of your unruly ram byström who also spared glances at the hound dog. with such dense clouds above, the shifting trees surrounding your little washboard and seating provide an unneeded shade, branches supporting a sprawling line of linen above your head.

a wooden table shaved of any splinters supported your elbows, brown eyes taken with how autumn sweeped this ranch not even days after your engagement. tutting your lips in intellection, there wouldn’t possibly be any time to plan a ceremony with erwin making preparations for winter. it was as if snow already coated the ground, seeing as you’d all but noticed hooves heartily beating against gravel.

the rusted whine of the gated entrance finally caught your attention. schulz obediently follows the statuesque blonde, yankee blue eyes digesting you. from that shirred cotton embroidered in floral design to your bare feet — he would turn his trouser pockets inside out all over again.

“one of these days you’re gonna step on something,” he shouts all proper in passing while guiding the chestnut stallion to an open pasture. always speaking chaste yet possessing the unique ability to understand your nonsense.

“not with all these leaves,” one leg over the bench already – you sat the knife aside, “we needs a rake ‘fore snowfall.” you insisted. adjusting the hem of one’s gown, pulling it above your buxom and rushing over.

carefully shutting the enclosure he turned to your nosey expression, “I’ll pick it up with my sheers.” he assured. the man’s lips couldn’t help but curl as you were now inches away from him. though his affections were promptly rejected, “what?” erwin asked.

“ya’ talks about your sheers more than anything,” eyes rolling you ignored that knit forming in his thick brows.

“come on now…” the blonde’s voice faltered in the skin of your neck, pulling away just to see if anything changed.

“spring or summer then?” you scrutinized all but those things that tempted you to drop it like his cupid’s bow.

“elaborate.” his brows fell with an air of unamusement.

even upspoken he knew you were serious. your persiflage continued, “well d’you think white would look good on me in july heat?”

“I think it’s timeless on you.” he gushed against your cheek and settled for the corners of your mouth since you kept moving.

“well then - I just wants to know why you’re so nervous.” your forearms interrupted his rough, calloused hands sliding down your waist. in that moment you glared through him, truly trusting he’d answer accordingly.

“it’s been two months.” erwin stated. “I don’t wanna rush it, diamond.”

the fleeting gaze you unknowingly gave sent aches to his chest, his adam’s apple bobbing before you parted your lips, “why not? are you not excited?”

“please.” eyes cutting to the tip of your nose and pillowy lips, he scoffed. “I want to make sure everything is right before we start a family.”

you giddily flashed your crooked teeth. “who said anything about that?”

“we’re getting married,” he knocked his forehead against yours like a bull. “you’re having my babies.” grin across his face toward the end, finally planting a kiss more becoming than the last few.

analogous to a whirling current of wind gathering you up, erwin’s hands now firmly hoisted your weight in a candid fashion. a brief glimpse of concern lit in his pendulous eyes when your breath hitched in response to such suddenness, subsequently washing over as soon as your hand began blithely unbuttoning his blouse.

your lover’s snug embrace radiated a warmth, twirling with your nerves. for the first time during this lazy october afternoon you’re finally looking like you’ve lifted a finger throughout, erwin hungrily watching these beads of anticipation fall below your collarbone.

“do you wanna start practicing?” he fondly asked, words steady despite his haste. effortlessly carrying you toward the porch of his ancestral farmhouse, authentic leather boots sounding off creaks in the steps he feverly trekked.

“what’d you call it before?” you played with the strands of hair laid thick across his chest, ahead of sitting up in his arms to kiss along his jaw as he jangled the doorknob.

“extracurriculars—” a sharp air left his nose, earning your laughter. the blonde’s support altered to where his palms now held your behind, your legs wrapped around his waist tightly as to stick along for where he’d take you.

the house smelled of sweet spices and vegetables, thoroughly flavoring the meat you had been slow cooking for hours in hopes of a tender finish. its scent wafted through the foyer and pleasantly met erwin’s nostrils, surprisingly arousing him even more.

“christ, how’d I get so lucky...” he deeply spoke into your mouth amidst the hissing breaths and smothered noises you both let out without discipline. the tent in his pants growing larger under the white gold buckle of his cowboy belt, poking at your heat needily.

the blonde didn’t care for sheets or hide blankets, he marched straight into the dining room like one of them soldiers.

“what?” you broke the sloppy kisses to watch the hallway staircase grow distant, eventually out of sight once he passed the kitchen countertops. “y’wanna eat first?”

“mhm.” erwin answered. prompting his placement of you directly on the table yet to be set, hiking your frills up above your thighs. cotton panties gated with a bow, that of which haloed over a stain of longing just for him. a finger of his pressed against your wetness absent of novelty, exploring your folds and watching as they ate up the fabric, cloth roughing up against your more sensitive flesh.

the man had since kneeled, practically breathing into such supple skin whilst pressuring more against your clothed cunt with his thumb. he often caught himself wolfing down the spit collecting in his mouth, salivating at the thought of you on his tongue. it wouldn’t be the first time he considered himself at your mercy.

“yous gone let me take ‘em off all by myself?” you queried, looking down at him with an expectant stare. your fiancé’s gaze was more occupied by your other set of lips then, but he eventually adhered and reached his hands up your spread thighs.

he slid your pretty underwear down the skin of your legs, a hand helping you wriggle the rest of the way. your body tensed when he kissed one of your feet which were damn near filthy from chasing chickens, but erwin was just as ribalding. he simply won’t admit the times his languish left him cumming to only the scent of your worn panties. as if he really needed to, his expression outwardly famished at the sight of you dripping onto the polished oak, smooching up your inner thigh whilst holding a vehement glare.

a gratuitous groan rattles from your depths, enduring the waves of pleasure ensuing as his tongue greedily laps at your juices. those rigid palms of his subconsciously found themselves hooking your thighs over his broad shoulders, allowing himself to suckle at your intimacy more aggressively. your precious hums and squeezing legs encourage the blonde, his pronounced nose bumping up against your shorthairs, jaw slacked so his tongue could properly punch in and out of your twitching cunt.

erwin’s cock had been weeping between his legs, jumping at the sound of his spit bubbling against the bud of your cunnie. you didn’t think his tongue could reach any further but he soon required deeper conversation with such a talkative pussy, forcing you backward onto the sanded tabletop. his hairy forearms wrapped around your legs to urge them apart, fingers creating little indents in your thighs while his face buried itself snug between those soaking folds. the blonde loudly smacked and sucked like a bitch to a bone, licking stripes up and down your cunt interchangeably with tongue fucking you, bottom lip firmly pressed under your slit.

“that feel good?” he slobbered. your yelps and drawn out vowels were complimented by his attentive croons. he empathized with how starved your hole was for his girth, feeling it tighten around his saliva coated muscle in prayer for something shaped just like him to guzzle down.

amidst reply your chin bunched up under the downward look you gave him, reaching lower to spread yourself wider. “go up—“ you insisted breathlessly, heaving in and out while a ball of yarn unraveled inside your tummy.

spoiling you similarly to a debutante made it so erwin rarely put his needs first during sex. only when you began bucking into his face after around twenty minutes of nonstop devouring did he become the slightest impatient. still he chose to satisfy himself with your climax on his taste buds, ensuring his girl’s cunt drooled ahead of pounding it senseless. but even in this pussy-whipped daze the blonde’s cock kept him mindful. the man would never be devoid of any purpose, not when your plump pussy’s sitting all gorgeous, practically begging for his attention.

this time you didn’t have to yank his head of angel hair to shoo him in light of your overstimulation. he’d already stood on the soles of his boots, breathing through his mouth like an exasperated idiot, deftly undoing his belt to release some of the tension.

“diamond,” erwin murmured under his breath only to realize he’s called on you, “mnh, don’t eye me like that.” knitting his wild brows did he whisper. your lover boy could barely stroke his cock he was so close, and your repeatedly renewed expression of excitement at his length was incredibly rousing. “can I…?” words laced with perversion did he query, gently pushing his fat cockhead against your gushy cunt, a groan leaving him as his eyes ate away at your beautiful body.

your meek smile melted him with embarrassment, “hmph, I gots to say it?” you asked, lips forming to wince while you elevated up onto your elbows in search of a better listen.

“no, s’just—“ erwin’s voice rasped out, only when he discarded anything from his waist down and began climbing up onto the table did your face morph with curiosity. “let me lift your legs a bit.” he kindly requested, breath now clashing with yours.

your movement lasted little without his assistance, softly guiding you back to fold your legs. he was now looming over you with an ounce of uncertainty, analyzing the scrunch of your nose and wrinkle ridden strain. words of concern were promptly exchanged, initiating an adjustment beneath his large stature. now that the burning in your hamstring subsided, you had more room to experience this relatively new position, his pelvis hovering a ways above yours — sheer length of his manhood all but making up for the distance.

he grinded his stiffness in a specific motion, teasing himself with your slick while securely grasping the skin under your knees. your moans goaded him to pass the surface, heightening once a few inches actually did. in this state erwin felt he could thrust deeper than ever, sweat running down his hefty ballsack in temptation. all your devoted fiancé could think about was jerking his dick against the hugging walls beyond your entrance, desperate to fill up his barn cat of a woman.

after a few moments of torturously paced action, erwin finally honed how hard he’d let his shaft slap against the plush skin of your ass. grinding his forehead into yours while rhythmically thrusting into you, drinking up your adorable faces if he wasn’t occupied with blinking in that very second. his voice had periodically joined that of your own each time you gripped particularly tight, sucking him in a spoiled fashion each time he reared back. the plap plap plap of his dick made your brain rattle ’round, eyes half lidded and mouth wide with moans like a brothel girl. when words were coherent they implored he continued, begging like the submissive wife everyone expects of you.

the table rammed back and forth on its four legs, parallel to erwin’s ploughs that became harsher each time his cock plunged inside your saturated mess. you couldn’t recall exactly how your dress turned into a flimsy skirt around your waist, folded a dozen for erwin’s gawking. but it was his regards that centered you — his constant presence no matter how primitively he may have fucked into you. the blonde didn’t relent in his shower of love across your exposed skin, passionately kissing over your shut eyes and such when you’re much too engrossed to return said kisses. even minding his off white teeth against your breasts, pampering you delicately akin to a hand sculpted china doll. such precise movements yet the furniture beneath you still moved with exuberance, and you still frothed around him in melded bouts of ecstasy.

“feels nice, don’t it?” erwin exhaled, experiencing himself flex inside you sensitively. the heat of the kitchen spilling into the room, droplets on one’s skin illuminated by a warm rustic lighting. he wondered what you thought of him, pinning you down like that of a roman trying to win a brawl.

“god almighty…” your voice eased out between hiccups of enjoyment, “don’t stop!” you need not ask but he’d developed some liking for the nagging - the reassurance.

“gone have to wed in spring then,” the blonde happily reaffirmed his position with blue collar arms, “seeing as you’ll be a mama by tonight.” he lovingly said before weighing into you more, damn near flattening your thighs onto the table just to allow more room for his shaft to grind against your swollen bundle of nerves.

your reply was written roughly, forcing your tongue past his supple lips and somehow pulling him in closer, imagining your hands cradling his head like this under sunlight stained by fancy colored glass. neither of you let up for air — breathing between this salivating exchange in an animalistic intensity, daydreaming of one another, comfortably naive.

“you’re squeezing me so tight.” he spoke into your loose lips, watching you break away with pitiful squeals once his dick began repeatedly bullying a certain spot near your cervix. erwin relished in your expression, all gobsmacked like an innocent southern belle, only to be broken in by some rugged stud. those beady brown eyes grew wide, and he could only buck at the thought of you cumming around his girth. “what’s that sugar? can’t take no more?” he nibbled at your chin.

“mphhm—“ you hum and swore all at once, subtly nodding while a pressure built up just below the surface of your abdomen, brows knitting almost painfully.

your fiancé struck hard opposed to fast now, letting his pelvis slam against yours with every coo and comment. “y’ain’t bailing on me now, are you? not when y’got me all worked up…” he muttered, his lovely blue eyes sitting drunk on a determined expression. “…not when I got so much to give you, hm?”

it was erwin’s actions that were more demanding compared to his words, usually. but the tone he’s giving you more than beckons you let him hammer you til’ the next harvest moon. his breath hit against your face in wild pants like some dog in heat, and you more than obliged with your digits digging into his shoulders. nose brushing against yours, he continued rutting inside your squelching cunt until your voice was giving out, grasping behind your knees tighter than ever before just to keep his soon-to-be wife still for his thick ropes of cum.

“m’not, mmm’not,” you slurred incoherently. “y’just gonna get me knocked uuuup!” how cute it was to watch your lip quiver with restraint. erwin wondered if you measured your affect on him. certainly not — not when you walk around here asking to be barefoot and pregnant.

sounding like a babbling fool, your trembling legs fought the urge to lock around his defined back, toes curling so hard a knuckle or two may have popped. the blonde’s baritone voice encouraged you almost frantically, pacing his breaths in hopes you would follow said motions, thoroughly guiding your unruly reactions beneath him. all while pumping back and forth, ruts getting sloppy and short as to keep any semblance of your alluring warmth and maintain the perfect environment for his seed.

his ears perked to your groans of relief, listening as you came undone around him with an expression only he got to see. ‘twas a matter of time before your cunt made way for his gluttonously dense amounts of cum, weakly throbbing with each tense of his balls against your gaping hole, pussy lips impressively parted by his sheer mass alone. erwin intrinsically held you under the grip of his large farm-hands, placidly shuttering in response to the tranquil lull your body provided. he was no longer overladen with energy as you more than sucked every bit of it out of him, all your love could do was slowly flutter his lashes back open, witnessing your edible expression stare back into his own unexplainable countenance.

“did y’mean it?” you ask, voice labored with exhaustion and knees still surrounding your pretty lil’ head.

his grapple became lazy and slick with mixing sweat, “huh?” erwin grew perplexed at such a persistent thing like you. though accompanied by how persuasive you are, he learned to love it years ago. pet name on his tongue, he inwardly hushed himself and filled the silence with a considerate gaze.

“‘bout me being a mama ‘n stuff.” you tried to avert your eyes but not only was he still brooding over you, he followed the turn of your head so he never left your field of view, all to kiss you once more.

“a million times over—” erwin muffled into the plump skin of your cheek, marking you from your forehead to your chin with good loving. “you know that.”

“and the wedding?” another familiar question soaked with insecurity left your nectar flavored lips, those of which erwin often had to ignore just to hear you clear.

“hmph…” he freed your legs at last, sitting up but not slipping out just yet. “may. when the sun lasts longer and you won’t need sleeves.” erwin said thoughtfully. the blonde’s sentence narrated the image he envisioned, his wife amidst fields of green dawning victorian lace and warm silver.

“y’know my dress might needa be a little bigger by then, right?” you said cautiously. a hand of yours grazed your belly, heavy with implication and overall fatigue.

“’course, diamond…” you could hear his toothy smile before cutting your eyes to him, both his palms now encapsulating the waist they fit so perfectly around. “how else are we gonna fit that behind?”

ᯓᡣ𐭩

[siriuslovebot]

˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪ 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒆𝒇 ➸ 𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒖𝒔 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌 ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: smut (18+, minors dni!), oral (f!receiving), shy!reader, unprotected sex, praise kink (kinda), some teasing, dirty talk, etc.

𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀: sirius really likes it when the reader wears his clothes.

𝑨/𝑵: hi everyone! i’m very excited for my first post on this blog. please go easy on me as i’m a bit rusty when it comes to writing (also this is completely unedited, so apologies in advance for any mistakes). i’m still deciding how i want to format these posts, so forgive me if it’s a bit of an eyesore. i also accidentally posted this on my main at first, so if you saw that... no you didn’t ;) as always, lowercase is intended. feel free to send me a request if you like. feedback is always appreciated!

𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻: 3.1k 𓂃♡₊⭑

·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺

       “is that my shirt, dove?”

       the low, silken gravel of his tired voice startles you as you sit perched in the little window seat of your shared bedroom, the window thrust open to let the night breeze in.

       “hmmm?” you muse, distracted as you slowly paint a top coat on your toenails. you fan them with one hand as you glance behind you. sirius stands in the doorway, lithe figure leaned against the frame as he watches you. his shirtsleeves are rolled up over his forearms, hair skirting his shoulders messily, eyes foggy from a long day at work. a soft smile plays over his lips, quieter than his usual wide, wolfish grin.

       he nods towards his shirt draped over your frame, the fabric pooling around your hips to expose the fabric of your panties. “been looking for that all over,” he says simply.

       you make a sheepish face, twisting the cap onto the bottle of nail polish. “‘m sorry,” you mutter, smiling apologetically. you turn towards him, bare legs dangling over the edge of the seat. you are a sight for sore eyes; his gaze trails over your exposed skin, eyes darkening as they trace your figure draped in his shirt. a warmth blooms in your stomach as you watch him watch you. the look is familiar–though it never fails to send your chest aflutter.

       “want me to take it off?” you ask, mostly because you’re at the point where it’s getting hard not to squirm beneath his hungry gaze. the silence is deafening, unspoken words bubbling to the surface. you have the sudden feeling that sirius may not be as tired from work as you thought.

       “not at all.” there’s that mischievous glint behind his eyes, darkening the clear grey to a stormy shade. you sit another second, skin burning as his eyes rake over you, and then you stand and pad over to your vanity.

        sirius should be getting undressed, preparing for bed. he’s too busy watching you. his eyes skirt over the curve of one bare shoulder as you return the little bottle of polish to its rightful place. you swipe a hand through your mussed hair, trying to ignore his attention. he always knows how to get you squirming, the easiest ways to set your cheeks alight with embarrassment. he lives for it, watching his shy girl crumble between his fingers.

       it seems he can’t contain himself any longer as he approaches you, fingers sidling up beneath the hem of the shirt. his lips are on you in an instant, pressing gently against that irresistible patch of exposed skin on your shoulder. a sigh falls from your lips and you melt into his touch. you close your eyes. his calloused palms knead over the flesh of your hips, earning a soft groan from you.

        he smirks against your skin. “quiet tonight, hmm?” his breath fans along your neck as he kisses up towards your ear. goosebumps rise on your skin, a shiver threatening to snake down your spine.

        “it’s late,” you mutter. there’s a knowing second of quiet, both of you knowing you’ve fooled around much, much later. you’re flustered, trying to deflect his teasing words. the butterflies fluttering in your stomach have long since morphed into flames, burning like your skin as you wait for his next move.

       “you want me to stop?” his whisper is soft, the undertone of huskiness becoming feather light. you shift, eyes meeting his in the reflection of the vanity. his eyes are clear, curious. you know he’d stop at the word, no questions asked. but he knows you better than that, knows the way your legs twist together at the feeling of his hands holding you firmly means you don’t want him to stop. sirius wagers you would beg him not to stop, if he wanted you to.

        “no,” you shake your head. there’s that grin again, and his lips are back on you. a sharp breath slices the air as he nips at your skin with his teeth. “sirius–”

        his grasp tightens at the gasp of his name. he chuckles quietly, snaking a hand up over your stomach. the rough pad of his hand finds your breast, kneading it in his palm whilst his other hand holds you firm against him. he’s hardening behind you, bulge pressed against your scantily clad frame. his gaze is still trained on you in the mirror, dragging over the lush sight of your flushed face, your lips parted in small pants, the dark look in your eyes. he loves watching you fall apart at his smallest ministrations. more than half of his pleasure comes just from working you up like this, pushing you to the brink without even trying.

       “please,” you manage, voice constricted as you writhe against him. the ache between your legs is incessant, throbbing as you watch his salacious expression in the mirror.

       “please what, my lovely girl?” he sucks a dark mark into the soft patch of skin behind your ear, earning a cry from you. he rolls your nipple between his fingers. you chew on your bottom lip, hips rocking as best they can despite his hold.

       “sirius–”

       there it is again, his favorite sound in the world. but he doesn’t give in so easily. you know better.

       “words, please, darling,” he mutters. the arm caged around your stomach loosens for a second, his flat-palm tracing down your stomach. he’s approaching the place where you need him most, but he’s not going to give in until he gets what he wants.

        you whimper at his teasing, head falling back to rest on his shoulder. “please,” you rasp desperately, “just touch me.”

        “ah,” he tuts at you, “but i am touching you…” the jest in his voice goes unnoticed by you, your head swimming as he inches closer and closer to your center. you wonder, in the back of your foggy mind, if he’ll give up without those magic words, if he’ll send you off to bed with soaked panties and a fluttering stomach. surely not…

        you contemplate being a brat, refusing to tell him what you want just to see how far you can push it. but you know he’s tired, and the need growing in your center is becoming almost unbearable. you let your pride crumble and you force yourself to meet his eyes in the mirror. “your fingers–your mouth, merlin–” your voice is choked as he smirks and gives in, his middle finger delving into your slick to circle around your engorged clit.

       “there’s my obedient girl,” he says approvingly, the praise in his voice like music to your ears. you cry out, voice cracking as he applies pressure to the bundle of nerves with expertise. he knows your body like the back of his hand, knows exactly what drives you crazy. the pad of his finger dips further down, swirling through the mess of juices shining on your lips.

       mewling moans tear from your lips as he works you towards the edge. his lips are attached to your neck, abusing your skin to the point of saccharine tenderness. rosy marks bloom over your skin. his hand falls away from your breast to toy with the hem of the shirt, lifting it up in the front just enough so that he can watch himself pleasuring you.

       “fuck, take it off, please,” you plead, hips bucking against his hand.

       he shakes his head, releasing another patch of bruised skin with a hearty pop. “can’t,” he says, “wanna fuck you in it…” he mutters, voice low. he drags his teeth over your shoulder again, and then his fingers are slipping out of your panties. you whine at the loss of contact, your thighs clenching together automatically at the lack of stimulation.

       he pats your bum gently, head nodding in the direction of your bed. “go on, dove,” he says, “lay down f’me…”

        you do as he says, your heart thumping in anticipation. your legs are already quivering, weakened from his skilled fingers. he’s taking his time, watching as you sprawl back over the mussed blankets, frame draped in his clothes. he’s never been so enamoured, the sight of you wearing something of his just furthering his claim that you’re his sweet little angel. only, it makes him want to fuck you like you’re his little slut, makes him want to split you open on his cock and make you cry for hours and hours.

        you get comfortable, spreading your legs to reveal the soaked-through fabric of your panties. he groans, running a hand through his dark hair before he begins unbuttoning his shirt. the dark fabric is discarded quickly, though he doesn’t bother removing his trousers as he kneels on the bed between your legs.

        “sirius…” you breathe, aching for him by now. he’s observing, hands gently massaging the skin of your legs starting at your ankles. you squirm, following his gaze to the fabric plastered to your core. a second passes, and he dips his head between your legs, hands splayed over your thighs to keep your legs apart. a shrill cry comes from you as he licks a long stripe up your center, tongue gently flicking around your clit through your underwear. “please!”

       he smiles, against you. “so sweet,” his voice comes as a whisper. you tremble as his eyes meet yours, the stormy grey churning with lust for you. teasing you, he places tiny kitten licks against your center, just enough friction to have your hips rolling up into his mouth. but he’s stronger than you, and he’s got you right where he wants you. he has a knack for turning you into a whining, wriggling mess, drunk on his touch.

        “i– fuck, i can’t take it,” you hiss through clenched teeth at his teasing. you watch him through hooded eyes, biting on your bottom lip so hard that it hurts. he catches your eye, swirling the flat of his tongue over your clit. your back arches off of the bed, earning a raised eyebrow from him.

        “poor baby,” he says, tongue swiping over his swollen lips. he sits back on his knees, using one hand to flick open the clasp of his belt. “shall i send you off to bed, then? let you get your beauty sleep, hmm?” his eyes flicker with amusement. his other hand rubs soft circles into the silken skin of your inner thigh. you breathe sharply at the needing ache between your legs. you need him inside of you, badly enough you feel as if you could burst into tears.

       “no, why would i–” you start, shaking your head. he narrows his gaze at you, a warning. you know what he’ll do if you act like a brat, and although you’d enjoy it you don’t think you have the energy tonight. he pats your thigh softly, then finally, painstakingly drags the zipper of his trousers down.

       “be m’good girl then, yeah?” he prompts, moving closer as he palms his bulge through his boxers, then drags the waistband down just enough to let his length spring free. you hum at the sight, licking your lips as he swipes a thumb over the angry red tip, spreading a bead of precum over it. he spits into his hand, pumping the moisture over his cock before positioning himself above you. two of his fingers push the fabric of your panties out of the way, and he drags the cockhead through your folds, coating it in your arousal.

        a high-pitched, breathy noise graces his ears as his length drags over your clit. you bring your hand to your face, pushing your sweat-slicked hair off of your forehead. he breathes sharply above you, brows screwing together as he nudges your entrance with his length.

        “need you, siri,” you say, pleading. “need you inside me so bad…”

         “i know, dove,” his voice is soft as he leans down, peppering kisses over your face. “been dying to stretch you open since i got home.” he pushes into you, a chorus of pleasured sounds destroying the quiet in your bedroom.

        you cry out, the feeling of him pushing into you driving you mad. it’s been ages since you last had him inside of you, and there’s a sliver of pain as he bottoms out inside of your dripping cunt. waves of pleasure accompany the sting of the stretch, and your eyes flutter as he rocks slowly into you. he’s watching the way his cock splits you open, low grunts coming from deep in his chest. he shifts, one hand pressing on your lower stomach, thumb swirling over your clit. you cry out, head falling back onto the pillows. the other hand lifts one of your legs, pushing it towards your chest.

        “oh my fuck–” you cry out, hands reaching for him, fingertips finding his as they dig into your fleshy thigh. he holds your leg there still, hooking one finger with your own without even thinking. his pace is steady, and his cock is dragging deep against your walls. you’re fluttering around him, doing your best to keep your eyes open and drink in his blissed expression.

        “look at you,” he grunts, brows pulled together as he snaps his hips into yours with particular force. “makin’ a mess everywhere, dove…” the fabric of his trousers and exposed patch of pubic hair are both shining with your juices, and you’re sure there’s a damp spot pooled on the sheets beneath you. he’s eyeing your swollen cunt, his thumb massaging a steady pattern into the bundle of nerves. you clench around him involuntarily, your insides so swollen and tender that you imagine you can feel the ridges of his veins pulsing against your walls.

        your orgasm approaches unrelentingly. he leans back onto his heels, the angle causing the head of his cock to prod at the spongy flesh of your sweet spot. stars bloom at the edges of your vision, and his name breaks from your lips in a hoarse cry.

        “siri, i’m close,” you sob, your voice shaking. you feel his hips snap against yours, skin slapping in the quiet night as he drills you into the mattress. you bunch his shirt up in your free hand, wringing the fabric desperately as you hold onto him with your other hand. the fabric smells of him, like cigarettes and cologne and something woody, and it drives you even closer to the edge. he’s taking over your senses; the sight of him hovering over you, muscles in his abdomen clenching and rippling as he fucks into you is enough to make you scream on its own.

        “oh, is m’good girl gonna come for me? gonna make a mess of my cock, are you?” that silken voice drowns out everything else in the world. sirius is the only thing on your mind, his ministrations setting your body aflame. pleasure courses through your veins, spreading through your whole body until it’s all you can do to keep yourself from screaming until your throat goes hoarse.

       you cry for him as you come, your entire body seizing and shivering as he guides you through your release. “that’s it,” he says throatily, “oh, you’re doing so good f’me… look at this sweet little cunt pulling me in…” he’s groaning at the feeling of you tightening around him, closer to his own orgasm by the second. you’re still shaking, riding the waves of one of the longest orgasms of your life, and you’re sure a second one is piggybacking on this one, not far from sending your body into violent tremors.

       “siri, it– ah, it’s so sensitive,” you breathe, voice weak. he’s continued his pace both inside of you and on your clit. he’s determined to drain ever ounce of pleasure from your body that he can, his eyes watching your cunt weep around him with pride.

       “you can take it, dove,” he soothes, voice soft. “just one more f’me, can you do that? make me happy, love, just one more…”

        “one–one more?” you breathe, jerking as he slows his hips, allowing you to feel him inside of you more intensely. your mouth falls open involuntarily, your features crumbling into pure bliss as he nods. his movements grow more erratic as his release approaches now.

        “one more,” he repeats, leaning down over you to place a gentle kiss on your lips. his tongue drags over your bottom lip before pushing into your mouth. the kiss is messy, teeth gnashing and tongues swirling as he fucks you with renewed vigor. the coil in your stomach tightens again, and his movements quicken.

        you’re both drenched in sweat, shaking, as his pubic bone drags over your clit. both of his hands are now pinned to the mattress, caging you in on either side of your head. your hands slide over his ribs, up his back, nails biting into the skin as your second orgasm washes over you.

       he’s not far behind, hips meeting yours with a force that is almost painful, though you’re far too distracted by the fireworks blooming behind your eyelids. you feel him spill into you, hot seed pouring into your soaked cunt and making your thighs shake. his groans are hoarse, a couple grunted curses and growls of your name joining your chorus of moans in the room. he sits up once you’ve both ridden out your high, heads swimming as he watches his cum spill from between your legs when he pulls out.

        “my lovely girl,” he mutters, swiping a finger through the mess between your legs. the mix of your arousal glistens on his finger, the sight making your head spin as he brings his digit to your lips. you open your mouth, tongue darting out to swirl around the pad of his finger. you moan at the tang of your mixed release spreading over your tongue. he chuckles, leaning over to swirl his tongue against yours in a heated kiss. you’re panting when he finally pulls away, nipping at your jawline before he sits up, stretching his arms above his head. the sight of him, shimmering with sweat, scratches adorning his ribs and shoulders, hair curled up around his hairline and ears from the humidity, makes your stomach do flips. you shift, leaning up on your elbows as he pads away from the bed.

       “where are you going?” you wonder, frowning at his departure. he’s in the bathroom, the sound of the shower quickly following his footsteps. a second later, he returns to the bedroom.

       “gotta get cleaned up, darling,” he says. he tugs on one of your ankles as you lay there, and you oblige despite the fatigue in your limbs. “c’mon, let’s get this off.” he tugs at the hem of the shirt as he directs you into the bathroom.

        “can you wash my hair?” you ask, yawning as he pulls the shirt over your head.

        “‘course i can, dove. now, in we go...”

[blueicequeen19]

Hint

Warnings: unprotected car creampie, oral, face fucking, hate fucking with JJ, Kook mean girl

I roll my eyes as I cross the parking lot to my Mercedes. This Pogue could not take a fucking hint. His constant flirting was on my last nerve. Sure he was cute but he was a Pogue. I had guys lining up to fuck me. I could have any guy I wanted so why waste time on this loser?

“Stop following me.” I snap, hitting the unlock button on my key fob. Why did I park at the back of the damn parking lot?

“You’ve been drinking. At least let me drive you home. Or my home.” The smile in his voice is clear and I shake my head just as I stumble in my heels over another fucking piece of gravel.

“Fuck.” I stop, reaching down to kick off these monstrosities when he’s suddenly crouching in front of me, crowding my space as he lifts my foot and starts to unfasten the straps.

“Are you always this annoying?” I grumble, using one hand on his shoulder to balance myself. The hand on my ankle is hot against my skin as he finally works the strap free and gently sits my foot down.

“Usually.” He peeks up at my under his messy blonde hair, flashing a panty dropping smile as he switches to the other foot.

“At least you’re honest.”

“Not used to that?”

“You don’t know me at all so don’t assume anything.” God he gets under my skin so badly but he doesn’t seem phased as he chuckles before raising to his full height, towering over me and dangerously close.

“I know enough.” His voice is lower, seductive even as his playful blue eyes rake down my body and back up.

“You know what’s on the outside. You don’t know what’s on the inside.” I blurt in frustration, shoving his chest but he doesn’t even budge. His lips curl into a taunting smirk.

“I want to be inside you. Does that count?” My jaw drops in surprise. This Pogue was so bold. I scoff, attempting to shove past him but pain shoots up through my feet from the gravel. It’s so sudden that I barely comprehend him scooping me in his arms until we’re moving towards my car again.

“I didn’t need your help.” I grumble, my heels dangling from one hand as I wrap the other around his neck.

“A simple thank you would suffice.”

“Oh so you’re not going to use this as a way to gain a sexual favor?” I narrowed my eyes at him as a bright smile formed across his face, his boots crunching along the gravel.

“I won’t say no to a blow job.”

“I can’t stand you.”

“You can sit on my face if you don’t feel like standing.” A laugh burst from me and I quickly looked away, his smile practically blinding as we came up on my car.

“You can put me down now.” I muttered awkwardly as he pulled the drivers door open.

“Eager to get home?” He lowered me so that my toes rested on his boots, keeping me from hurting my feet. The move felt intimate with how tightly our bodies were pressed together and I struggled to maintain eye contact.

“Why do you care? This is never going to happen.” I snap, his eyes widening for a moment before he schools his features. Anger I could deal with. Anything soft was off the table.

“I’m not going to sleep with you. Not just because you’re a filthy Pogue but because you’re probably some vanilla pretty boy and that’s not my thing. You probably like sweet words and taking your time but I like to be fucked. So take the hint.” My heart races with my outburst, my cheeks red with anger but I can’t help the sudden panic from the look in his eyes. He looked pissed but also wanted to eat me alive. Like he wanted to give me exactly what I said I wanted.

“Take the hint, huh?” His voice is low in warning, raising the hair on my neck like I’m being stalked by a predator. Suddenly he jerks open my passenger door and shoves me in the back seat by the back of my neck.

“What the—.” The door shuts and he’s manhandling me onto my knees, yanking my dress up to bare myself to him.

“You want to be fucked? I’ll show you how we Pogues like to fuck.” I nearly moan at his words, my body already on board with whatever he has planned. His fingers cup my sex, teasing my folds over my thong before yanking it down my thighs.

“Don’t you dare.” I gasp, still hanging on to the need for this to be all his idea. He slaps my pussy, making me squeal in pain and surprise.

“Open up for me, princess.” He slaps my thighs wider apart, the flesh of his cock suddenly between my thighs and making my eyes bug out. He was fucking huge.

“So goddamn wet for a Kook Princess.” JJ taunts, rubbing his cock through my slit. Every pass over my clit made me shudder, begging to be filled. I open my mouth to do just that when he shoves his way inside, making me moan loudly as my head drops down on the leather seats.

“Shit. You better be quiet or one of your friends will find you getting fucked by a filthy Pogue.” JJ’s words are strained as his fingers bite into my hips and he starts to move. I can’t control the whimpers and mewls that leave me. He delivers on his promise, fucking me hard and fast. I don’t even have to demand more because he keeps up with everything my body wants without instruction.

“So hot and tight.” JJ groans, yanking me back into every hard thrust of his hips as the car rocks. His cock was so hard and deep. I could barely think or breathe until I hear a giggle in the distance. I try to jerk away but he shoves me back down, holding me in place. His pace lessens so the car doesn’t rock but he doesn’t stop fucking me as he looks around.

“Grab the door.”

“Who— is it? We have to stop.” My words come out on a whimper, my body wound so tight as I do as he says.

“Guess you’re not the only one getting fucked by a Pogue tonight.” JJ chuckles darkly, shoving me flat onto the seat and coming down on top of me. My hair is twisted in his fist as his lips find my neck. I try to listen to determine if I know the identity of the other couple but I can’t hear over the sound of JJ panting in my ear and his pelvis slamming against my ass.

“Here?” A girl hisses too close to my car for liking and I instantly recognize the voice as my two-faced Pogue hating best friend.

“Fuck, I love having you under me. Not so mouthy now, are ya?”

I hear a thump and JJ chuckles in my ear, rolling his hips so he hits that sweet spot deep inside me. I bite back a mewl, turning my head and slamming my mouth to his without even thinking. If I thought fucking him was insane then kissing was even worse. His tongue demands entrance into my mouth and I can’t stop the orgasm that barrels forward. His hand is over my mouth in the next moment, silencing me as he fucks me into the seat until I’m trembling for relief.

“What’s the matter? I thought you wanted to be fucked?” I fight the urge to roll my eyes at him as I reach back to dig my nails into his thigh, with shorts still around his legs.

“Who is she fucking?” I demand in a whisper, shaking his hand off my mouth.

“Doesn’t matter.”

A cry of pleasure echos outside the car and JJ’s pace picks up. I can tell by his breathing that he’s close. He’s already lasted a lot longer than I expected.

“J—.” His nickname is a plea on my lips, the sensitivity being too much. The leather against my nipples. His weight on top of mine. His husky breathing in my ear.

“I like the thought of you driving home with me inside you. Then every time you drive this car you’ll be reminded of this. How your mouth begged for relief but your body demanded more. I can feel how close you are.” His vulgar words had my inner walls clenching, my eyes squeezing shut as pleasure pulsed through me. My hips lift on their own, aching for him to reach deeper.

“I didn’t say you could cum inside me.” I growl, fighting off the orgasm that threatens to rip through me and give us away. JJ’s hand dips between my thighs to press on my clit and a choked sound leaves me as my body detonates.

“I didn’t ask.” He whispers as I cum hard, my body jerking beneath his as I bite my own arm to keep from screaming my release. A deep, sexy moan echos in my ear as he finishes inside me, fucking me slow and deep until we’re both spent and fighting to catch our breath. The windows have fogged and I can feel his sweat on my back. Minutes pass and I don’t hear the couple outside anymore so I motion for him to let me up.

“This isn’t ever happening again.” I declare, looking along the floorboard for my panties. I don’t find them and I level him with a glare as he relaxes back against the seat, his legs spread and cock still hard. I fight hard not to stare at the cum stains along his shaft.

“If you say so.” His eyes are dark as he watches me, a sexy smirk on his lips. Like someone who was awfully proud of their accomplishments. The after effects of bliss make it hard to cling to my anger, especially with him looking at me the way he is.

“Clean up your mess and I’ll go.”

“Excuse me?”

“I didn’t stutter.”

“I heard you. I was just giving you a chance to rethink what you just said.”

A beat of tense silence stretches between us, our eyes never wavering from each others even as his cum drips out of me and onto the leather seats.

“Here, I’ll show you.” JJ lunges, wrapping his hand in my hair and yanking me over his lap. His free hand holds his hard cock firmly as he presses my head down until the smooth tip meets my lips. I grit my teeth, refusing to open but the hand in my hair tightens painfully, nearly ripping the strands out so I reluctantly open, letting him hit the back of my throat. I gag loudly, attempting to pull back but he holds me firmly, a hand sliding between my legs to stroke my slick slit. I want to shake my head or tell him I can’t take anymore but he refuses to let me up as he fucks my throat.

“More tongue, less teeth. Relax your throat.” I’m tempted to bite down, wishing I could tell him I know how to give a damn blow job. It wouldn’t be so bad if he’d stop treating me like I don’t need to breathe. But goddamn the pulsing between my legs is almost agonizing. I feel on fire.

I move my tongue so it’s dragging up and down his shaft and I feel his body tighten as he hisses through his teeth.

“That’s it.” JJ groans, his fingers relaxing slightly in my hair as I start to move with him. The hand between my legs starts to move quicker against my clit, my legs shaking as I try to finish him before he finishes me. I hum around his shaft, tears blurring my eyes as every nerve ending starts to feel on fire.

“I’m cumming.” His head hits the seat as he holds my head down, shooting down my throat as my own body is thrown into oblivion. I can barely swallow as stars line my vision and my body shakes uncontrollably. The lack of oxygen didn’t help.

Finally, he releases the hold on my hair and I slide into the floorboard on my knees, makeup burning my eyes as I look up at him. My throat was raw and my pussy was on fire but I’d never felt more sated. JJ looked as satisfied as I felt as he slowly zipped his shorts back up and wiped sweat from his brow.

“I hate you.” My voice is hoarse and I desperately needed water. I also needed to know who my best friend was fucking right outside my car.

“But you love how I felt inside you.”

“You didn’t wear a condom.”

“Hopefully you’re on something.”

“Hopefully you don’t have something.”

JJ smirks as he leans forward on his knees, eyeing me like we didn’t just have amazing orgasms together.

“I guess next time I need to fuck you harder. Take care of all that attitude.” I narrow my eyes at him until his hand is suddenly around my throat and he’s pulling me into a sizzling kiss. I moan into his mouth, twisting my fingers in his hair as our tongues collide. I’d never been a fan of kissing but his mouth was otherworldly. I kiss him harder, feeling the slight stubble along his upper lip. I nearly whimper when he pulls away, a string of saliva connecting our lips.

“Next time I’m eating that tight fucking pussy until you cum all over my face. Then I’m going to tie you up and play with you until you make an absolute mess. After that I’m gonna lay back and watch as you use me to get yourself off. You’ll use me however you want me while I don’t lift a finger.” JJ kisses me again as my insides turned molten, a cocky smirk pulling at his lips.

“I’ll see you later, princess.”

Then the car door opens and is slammed in my face as I try to figure out what the fuck just happened.