#Soft Skull Press

[poetsandwriters]

Colin Winnette, author of Users (Soft Skull Press, 2023), in a recent installment of “Ten Questions.” 

[rustbeltjessie]

This is my favorite novel I’ve read in a while. One of those ones that I haven’t been able to put down since I started reading it. If you’ve ever been obsessed with punk music, or annotated a mix tape, and especially if you’ve ever been in an intense, codependent friendship, or if you just love great writing—READ IT.

[taylorbyas1]

Sharing here because I’m STILL so excited and Tumblr deserves book love too! Here is the gorgeous cover of my forthcoming debut full-length poetry collection, I DONE CLICKED MY HEELS THREE TIMES, from Soft Skull Press this August!! My ode to Chicago, to Black women having to redefine home over and over again in this country, to family. The pre-order link will be available in a few weeks! 😁

[razorsadness]

letters to a dead reader

Dead girls, dead girls. You want to know, where are the boys? Where are the dead boys? The easy answer is, can't you see them?

They're here, hanging out under the name of the father, the law of the father, the non/the nom/the know of the father. Every word means "no". It's not anything else.

Which means the text is full of deaths, absences. Look into the abbess and who looks back? The text is full of deaths, absences. Holes. Girls. They're that nothing. And if you peep through them? There are the dead boys, pressed right up against the other side of the page.

Being both dead and text, they slide towards every each other, the girls and boys, the dead and the text. Under phallologocentrism, this is what we call slippage. All dead boys begin as dead girls. All words are approximate. Your mileage may vary.

This text, this dead girl, this dead boy, and all the dead in between are promiscuous, producing and freeing signs at the cost of their own bodies. History writes over those who write it. Movies repicture the star. When we can no longer dance in the minefield, we can still tango in the graveyard, a full turn each 24 hours.

The author, of course, is quite dead. But the words, they're quivering right now, undulating like a dead girl, writhing like a dead boy. All of this. Right in your hands. Right now.

—Daphne Gottlieb, from Kissing Dead Girls (Soft Skull Press, 2008)

[scumgristle]

oh PLEASE tell me that the pieces i submitted to Soft Skull Press in 05-06 were rejected by goddamn Hannah Horvath.

[theblackestofsuns]

Superworse: The Novel (2004)

Ben Greenman

Soft Skull Press

[simonz-angel]

“fuckin’ look at me.”

the growl of words bounces in your mushy skull, watery eyes blinking till pretty crystal tears drip down the apples of your cheeks.

you’re lost, fluttering eyes fighting the fog, the way he reaches into your guts. it has you struggling and gasping.

yet, when simon’s fingers curl tight round your jaw, thick digits pressing dimples into the fat of your cheeks, you finally start to snap into reality.

“yeah, baby,” he laughs down into your face, teeth glistening in the soft bedside lamp. “i’m here, i’m here.”

and it’s not a sweet coo, it’s a harsh taunting, a mere joke to him to watch your eyes cross, and roll.

“t-too much, si, n-no” and it’s a broken, desperate cry, hands violently pawing at the backs of his thighs when he shoves himself meters into you.

you can feel every ridge, every vein, the way the tip of his pretty cock lays sweet frenchies against your cervix. and he stills, letting you really accommodate to the mere length, the width of him.

“let me see your pretty eyes, baby,” he huffs, breath heavy against your face in a way that does nothing but suffocate you. “you tired? you done?”

and your silence speaks for you, eyes bouncing back and forth from pupil to pupil. you can’t focus, the tips of your toes digging deep into his calves almost angrily.

it feels too good, in a way that has you squirming up like you’re under some spell.

“that’s what i thought,” he coughs up in a laugh, taking you by the lips aggressively. he lets his tongue open you up, and he explores your mouth carefully, hips pulling back as he readies himself. “now just be pretty for me and take it, yeah, hun?”

ion even know, this is so fucked 🤦‍♀️ send mama requests.

[makismei]

❝ YOU A SUPERMAN? OR… A MINUTE MAN?

♡ fem!reader x various

featuring…. gojo satoru, nanami kento & fushiguro toji

cw: 18+, minors dni, squirting, overstim, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, anal play (nanami)

synopsis: who’s pounding till the sun rises and who’s clocking out after one round?!

notes from mei! tbh the title doesn’t really make sense… i listened to mcnasty(?) by jay park when it came out a while back and that lyric really resounded in my soul

GOJO ♡ a quick shot. but his dick stays hard. pretty superman-esque if you ask me.

“you idiot—fuuuck, stop moving your hips!” the sound of both of your cum sloshing together rings in your ears. you’re pushing at his tummy, quivering legs haphazardly thrown over his shoulders and tears bubbling in your lash line.

it feels so full inside of you. you’ve both been going at it for god knows how long; his release smeared on your lower tummy and inner thighs.

satoru moves your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours as he starts to press weight into each thrust.

“ahh, mmaahhh!” head shaking back and forth on the pillow, “‘m gonna cum! i can’t—satoru, m’ gonna die!”

he’s practically whining, ignoring your pleas with sweat beading down his temple as he plows you relentlessly. “baby, i can’t hold out.”

his head’s thrown back, feeling his dick twitch whenever he kisses your cervix just right, eyes rolling back into his skull.

“y’feel so good baby, why do you feel so good?” he pants, not realizing he’s filling you up with hot ropes of cum. he’s still thrusting and you swear if he keeps this up your bottom half is going to be numb.

still absolutely rock hard inside of you, he turns you on your side, one leg still on his shoulder while he grinds against that one spot that renders you speechless.

“let me have one more, baby.” he whines, legs shaking, “‘m still so hard f’you.”

NANAMI ♡ depends. he’s good at holding himself off, but he also enjoys stuffing you with multiple loads of his cum.

he’s groaning, eyes lidded as he watches you align his cock with your leaky slit. globs of his cum seep from your pussy, soiling his faintly coloured pubic hairs. someway, somehow, you managed to flip your previous positions and he’s the one laying on the mattress instead of you.

“my love,” he breathes, his large hand; callused from his work but still so gentle, caresses your hip, “i’m not going anywhere.”

it’s as if you’re in a rush, scrambling like he’s going to disappear.

you whine, legs quivering when his tip swipes against your entrance. “please, nami, i want you to cum again… it feels s’good.”

he smiles, his other hand reaching out to hold your face, thumb gently stroking against your cheek. “so needy today… have i been neglecting you?”

leaning down, you bury your face into his neck, grinding your soaked pussy onto his hardening cock. you hum shyly, distracting yourself by leaving wet kisses on his neck and shoulder.

he hums, your shyness making him all smug and sappy. “so that’s what it is, huh?”

you feel him harden, before he’s lifting you and dropping you down on his cock. you tense, squealing into his shoulder. languidly, he’s making you fuck down onto him, his own hips jolting up to meet you halfway.

sneakily, a hand makes it’s way down to your ass. he swats playfully before gathering slick at the point where you’re both connected. surprised, your eyes widen when you feel his finger start playing with your rim. it’s gentle, soft massaging as he’s jackhammering into you.

with your legs shaking, he doesn’t bother trying to move your hips, simply doing the work for you.

you’re gushing, liquid drooling from your pusey before you force yourself off of him, practically screaming as you squirt all over his lap. nanami groans, pulling you back down onto him to chase his release.

“oh my god—oh, fuuucckk!!” nails digging into his skin, your eyes roll back from the onslaught of pleasure. “‘s shoo gooood!”

he chuckles in your ear, but it gets cut off with a moan, flooding your cunt with his seed. kissing your tear-soaked cheeks, he smiles against your skin. “still feeling neglected, baby?”

TOJI ♡ one round and he’s hooonkkk mimimi… but he’s fucks nawwstyyy. like. he fucks you so good one round has you nearly passed out and quivering—drool and tears all over the pillow and your squirt leaving a niceee puddle right underneath you.

“that’s right, doll.” he whistles lowly, watching your legs tense, knees lifting themselves off the bed as he continues to bury his fingers into your cunt, his pupils practically dilating as he continuously prods against your sweet spot.

it’s wet and sticky between your legs, pussy glistening under the cheap glow of your bedside night light.

you’re damn near in a downward dog, face smushed into the mattress as your squirt soaks the bed. toji doesn’t let up, toying with your clit as he grins, cock twitching in his boxers.

when you slump face first into the bed, you’re practically drooling as you know what’s coming next. sturdy, thickset fingers knead the globes of your ass, before you feel his heavy cock sneaking it’s way into your slit.

“look at you,” he jeers, leaky tip pressing into your cunt. “being such a sweetheart after i made you squirt a few times.”

he buries himself to the hilt and you think you’re going cross-eyed. “yeah,” he croons, hips finding rhythm and bouncing on the fat of your ass, “you just wanna cum, ain’t that right?”

“yeesshh!” you cry. this position allows him too much control. you’re flat on your stomach, barely holding yourself up from your elbows. toji bares his weight on you, practically humping you and you know, he’s about to cum.

his tip kisses your g-spot repeatedly, scarred lips leaving wet kisses on your shoulder. “‘m gonna cum, baby,” he breathes, “you’ll take it, won’t’cha?”

you nod, eyes teary, “mmhm!”

you feel his lips against your skin, grinning. “cum with me baby, c’mon. you got it.”

as if his words have magic, he thrusts a couple more times before he feels you squeeze, and he’s a goner. groaning, he has a feeling you’re squirting again while he’s shooting rope after rope inside of you. he’s dizzy, practically blacking out after he pulls out, wiping you down with his shirt that he’s mistaken for a towel.

he slumps beside you, with his eyes closed, he slings a hefty arm over your waist. you adjust as he pulls you closer, lips brushing against your scapula.

he’s snoring before you know it.

panel is from i’ve become the target of his affection ^.^

[your-internet-bf]

We hadn't always gotten along. When our parents got married, we could barely stand each other. How could we get along with some brat we barely knew? Luckily, I had an idea. I bought a clicker - you know, the one they use to train dogs? - and got to work.

I started with "thank you". Every time you said it, maybe at dinner, in the car, at a restaurant, I pressed the clicker. You couldn't tell where the sound was coming from, and nobody else seemed to know what you were talking about. But soon, I started helping you with chores around the house and when we finished, *click*. And without really thinking about it, you'd say "thank you."

A few months passed, and you'd started to notice things about me. I took care of myself. I was clean, and I exercised regularly. You'd hang around when you knew I'd be back from the gym just to catch a whiff of the sweat and metal on me when I returned - our eyes caught once when you got a little too close, and for the first time you saw something primal, a little dark, in my gaze. But it passed in an instant.

We started getting along better, now. So one day, when you were lying on the couch with a snack bowl, I snatched it up and motioned to throw it into your mouth. Well, innocent enough, right? And it wasn't like I was eating much, so it's fine, right? Every time you open your mouth to catch, *click*, *click*, *click*.

Then, I invited you to come work out with me. Every time you did a squat, *click*. I told you it was a metronome to keep your intensity up, but you noticed the bulge in my sweatpants was bigger than usual. Wait, when did you start noticing my bulge, especially enough to know that...?

Finally, it was time. I'd been listening outside your bedroom door for weeks now, and I knew when you'd be asleep. I quietly opened your door and stepped into your room, locking it behind me. You stirred at the sound of the lock clicking, but I wasn't afraid.

I gingerly pulled down the covers and just... stared for a while. I'd never taken the time to really look at how beautiful you are, how gorgeous those curves were. I could hardly stand it. As you lay on your side, I took out the clicker, and *click* it once. Laying on your side, like you were on the couch with the snacks, you obediently open your mouth.

I pull down my pants, my long, thick cock swinging between my thighs. I brush the back of my hand over your cheek, then set it firmly against the back of your head, and push into your mouth.

You wake up almost immediately, but my hand stops you from pulling back as I force inch after throbbing inch down your throat. The more you struggle, the tighter you feel, the harder I push, until you felt your nose press into my hips. You push as hard as you can against me, but I'm so much bigger and stronger than you it doesn't do anything. I don't even budge.

I start to grind into your skull, making you swallow the thick, heavy head of my cock again and again, as I groan in pleasure. I start thrusting harder and harder, making your eyes water as I slam my hips into your face again and again, until finally, mercifully, I release inside you, deep inside your throat. You feel me pulse with your whole mouth, and you struggle to swallow each load of thick, hot, sticky cum while I'm still inside you.

With a shuddering breath, I pull out, letting you breathe properly for the first time in minutes. I watch while you cough and catch your breath, and then I ask, "what do you say?"

You breathe in intending to scream, but then you hear it, just one soft *click*, and all you can say is "thank you".

You stare at me, confused. I wipe my cum off your chin with my thumb, and *click* again. "Thank you", you say.

"I knew it. You're such a good girl, aren't you? Now," I push you onto your back, "spread for me."

*click*

You raise your legs to either side, exactly like you're doing a squat.

"I don't - I don't understand," you whimper, legs still in the air.

"You don't have to," I reply, reaching one hand between your legs to feel how wet you are.

"You're soaking, little girl," as I bring my hand up for you to see... Then make you taste it. I reach back down and slip in two of my thick, strong fingers, and cover your mouth with my other hand as you moan. I press up in just the right spot, rubbing in tight, quick circles so deliciously that you can't help but arch your back and grind into me. You feel the pleasure build and all thought leaves your mind; the only thing that matters is my fingers inside you, the scent of my hand over your mouth, and the lingering taste of me.

But before you can finish I pull my fingers out, pressing up and out, leaving you twitching and gasping. "Not yet," I mutter, and I move myself down between your legs. I line up my cock, slapping it down on your tummy first. It reaches your navel, and you feel a wave of fear that only makes you wetter. I pull back, then start pushing in.

It's thick, thick, thick, and heavy. I stretch you out wider than you thought possible, pressuring you in every direction, spreading your aching cunt and making you feel full inside for the first time in your life. Long, deep strokes, moving your whole body with every thrust, reaching inside you, my breath coming fast and hard.

And you hear it again.

*click*

"Thank you," you choke out between sobs.

*click*

"Thank you," you moan.

*click*

"Thank you," you plead, tears in your eyes.

My strokes come faster now, slamming inside you like an animal as you continue to thank me for raping you. Finally, finally, finally, you feel me tense up and slam deep, deep, deep inside you, pressing your whole body into the bed, as I cum again. Huge, hot, sticky white loads of my cum shoot inside you, filling you, as my breath comes in gasps, and as I do you feel it too, now, the wave of pleasure cresting, and you cum, your legs squeezing together, your face screwed tight, moaning with the release of months of tension. And as you cum, you hear a new sound, a familiar sound, but it's deeper than the others...

*click*

And you cum harder, knowing I'm training you like a bitch in heat.

I climb up next to you, and just gaze into your eyes for a moment. Then I smile. "Let's go again."

*click*

[gojosprettyprincess]

TOJI N MEGUMI’S SWEET GIRLFRIEND!!!

Cheating, breeding kink, forbidden relationship. Megumi is 20 n reader is a bit older, Brief Toji x reader. Not proofread

★彡

Imagine Megumi walking around the house shirtless, exposing every inch of his skin from his hips up, His smooth skin glistening under the warn-toned light as he walked into the kitchen for a snack but then Toji spots the fresh series of red, angry lines scattered across his upper back. He’s not dumb, he’s a grown man in his early 40s, he’s basically an expert at that shit considering the fact that he has them too. He knows exactly what it is and what caused it.

He starts teasing Megumi about it, about how his boring, grumpy ass is actually getting some pussy—not knowing that the pussy he’s getting is his sweet little girlfriend’s while he’s away on missions, absolutely oblivious to what happens between his son and girlfriend while he’s not there. The harsh markings from your sharp manicured nails mauling his son’s toned back as he fucked your slutty brains out and digs his cock deep into your insides while giving you one of the best dicking of your life, right on top of you and Toji’s bed.

–––

જ⁀➴ The “pussy” he’s getting is from the same sweet girlfriend of his that wakes up at 5am sharp to make breakfast and see him off to his 3-day mission just to have his son’s throbbing hard dick nestled deep into your greedy cunt—stuffing you full to the brim while his tip nudges against the deepest part of your pussy just a few hours later.

Megumi was three years younger than you, never had a girlfriend before and you felt bad for the poor boy and was soo tired and annoyed of having to keep buying new panties since the old ones were used to wrap around his preverted cock to jerk off, staining it with his seed instead of doing you and his father’s laundry so you had to find a way to deal with it…

જ⁀➴ The “pussy” he’s getting is from the same sweet girlfriend he calls every evening while he's away to make sure you’re alright and if you’ve eaten dinner, not knowing that his son is eating dinner right now—behind you, on this knees as his rough hands spreads your soft cheeks apart, nose pressed deep into your creamy folds while he sucks on your twitching little clit with fervor and intensity, sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body.

Your juices drips down his chin disgustingly as he devours you like a homeless man eating his favorite meal for the first time in years, groaning vibrantly against your twitching core as he tastes your sweet pussy—desperately lapping up every bit of pussy juice he can suck out of you, making you audibly stutter but Toji doesn’t question it, maybe you’re just tired and miss him too much or something. You bit your lips, moving a hand down to push Megumi’s eager face further into your horny pussy as you teasingly wiggled your cheeks in his face. Your eyes roll back when you felt Megumi’s sly tongue dragging flat against your asshole, licking a long stripe at the fluttery hole before attempting to pry it open with the tip of his tongue, “Mmm, don’t worry baby I’m fine—just have a sore throat that’s all” you reassumed your older boyfriend on the other end, reasoning why you’re making odd noises.

જ⁀➴ The “pussy” he’s getting is from the same sweet girlfriend he calls Megumi for—to check up and make sure you’re safe and okay. After all, while Toji is away, Megumi is the man of the house, not knowing that you’re on your knees as they speak, both hands digging into his muscular legs for stability as he fucks his thick cock deep into your skull, his leaking tip oozing with pre-cum, dripping at the back of your throat as you look up at him with pleading eyes as your mascara mixed with tears drips down your pretty face while he just smiles down at you darkly—reassuring Toji that his girlfriend is well taken care of.

જ⁀➴ The “pussy” he’s getting is from the same sweet girlfriend who he promises to breed, babbling about how much he wants to give Megumi a sibling and watch your belly swell with his kid as he’s pounding you deep and hard in full Nelson, his huge tip nudging against your bruised cervix, brutally splitting apart your cunt while whispering into your ear. “Hah—fuckkk doll, your tight pussy is swallowing my dick so good, fuckk imagine if I fill you up and breed this pretty little pussy with my seed, How does that sound darling? Wanna give lonely Megumi a sibling to take care of?” He questions your fucked out self as he licks away the trail of salty tears lingering on your face. Not knowing that Megumi is just like him. Their minds are sooo alike. “Shitshitshit—such a good little horny slut, this pussy’s taking my cock sooo well baby. Whaddya say we make old man Toji a grandpa? Fuck he wouldn’t even have a clue it’s not his” he laughs into your ears as he licks your earlobe while drilling his swollen cock into your soppy cunt from behind, against the kitchen counter just 20 minutes before toji gets home.

જ⁀➴ The “pussy” he’s getting is from the same sweet girlfriend who gets her sweet cunt and tight asshole stuffed full with his son’s seed almost every other day. Megumi would brutally fucked your tight pussy against the bathroom sink while he’s taking a nap, your panties bearly hanging around the sides of your ankles as Megumi manhandles your body back onto his cock—forcing you to meet his thrust halfway as he pounds it into you, he's so girthy and big, definitely not as big as Toji’s but it’s definitely a lot more stiff and eager, his tip bullyingly grazes against your g-spot as you cried out, making him grunt before quickly slapping a hand over your mouth to shut you up. “Can’t a nasty whore shut the fuck up? Or do you want him to wake up and see you creaming on his son’s cock? Is that what you want? Such a cock-hungry little slut.”

જ⁀➴ The “pussy” he’s getting is from the same sweet girlfriend that he buys sexy lingerie for, to wear and model them for him and he finishes off the show by ripping them to shreds off of you and fucking you into a brainless whore—but like father, like son, Megumi does the exact same when he’s not there. It’s like they both think alike when it comes to certain things—that being sex. No wonder sometimes some of them tend to go “missing” leading him to buy you even more for his son Megumi to fuck you in. He loves seeing you all dolled up with your matching pink panties and bra. It makes both of them absolutely feral.

જ⁀➴ The “pussy” he’s getting is from the adoring girlfriend who he fucks absolutely stupid and good, to the point where your toes curled as your eyes roll back to your skull—a moaning mess as he forces out orgasms after orgasms out to you till the whole mattress is drenched and soaked with cum. The only (downside?) would be Megumi hearing everything from the next room, brows furred together has he angrily fist fuck his pulsating cock, imagining he was the one drilling deep into you instead. The next day he’d corner you while your sitting on the couch and manhandle your body so you’ll be face down and ass up—stuffing three thick, long fingers into your tight asshole, stretching it apart while he snakes his tongue deep into your hungry pussy—exploring your insides. Your asshole taking in his fingers with pure pleasure as you buckle your hips back onto his face, like a whore—eagered for more.

[mystra-midnight]

The Devil and I

summary: logan might have looked like an ordinary man, but the weight of his metal-laced bones pressing against your back was intoxicating—deliciously so. and he knew this with the same certainty with which he knew the earth revolved around the sun.

warnings: 18+ only. dom!logan. rough sex. messy sex. spanking. tiny hint of anal play.

words: 1.8k.

notes: i am not even sorry. not one bit. this was inspired entirely by this post by @i-spit-on-your-garage and dedicated to her also. thank you for sharing your horny thoughts with me.

"That's it, baby, taking me so well."

Logan's voice was a gruff growl against your ear, crawling up his throat and over your skin like whiskey, full-bodied. His breath, warm and tinged with a hint of smoke, sent shivers down your spine. His large hands kneaded the flesh of your hips as he dragged you against his pelvis again, the sound of skin hitting skin loud, leaving your arse stinging from the impact.

You'd never given much thought to his body until now. What had started as harmless flirting—a dirty fantasy about fucking the mutant called Wolverine—had taken a turn. It wasn't that he wasn't attractive; in fact, Logan was the epitome of a woman's wildest dreams. He was tall and impossibly strong, his muscles rippling under your fingertips. But what surprised you most was his weight, the heaviness that came from the adamantium skeleton beneath his warm flesh.

Logan might have looked like an ordinary man, but the weight of his metal-laced bones pressing against your back was intoxicating—deliciously so. And he knew this with the same certainty with which he knew the Earth revolved around the Sun. 

That's why he kept you in this position: on your knees, face pressed into the mattress, hips raised, your slick folds stretched around his girth. Logan relished seeing his women like this—whiny and cock-drunk, the perfect plaything for his pleasure. Your voice was muffled, fingers digging into the sheets so tightly they hurt. You could barely make a sound as he thrust into you, each powerful stroke forcing gasps from your lungs. He didn't mind.

Your entire body trembled when his hand moved up your sweaty back, each fingertip tracing the delicate curve of your spine with deliberate tenderness. The sensation was electric, a shiver-inducing journey that left your skin prickling with goosebumps. He paused at each vertebra, applying just enough pressure to make you arch before continuing his path upward. When his fingers finally reached the nape of your neck, they didn't simply rest there—they curled possessively, his grip firm and unyielding, as if he was claiming ownership of your very being.

He pinned you against the mattress with effortless dominance, his weight pressing you down, keeping you exactly where he wanted you. The warmth of his breath ghosted over your ear, a tantalising promise of what was to come. His presence was overwhelming, a dark force looming over you like a stalking shadow, enveloping you in his warmth.

Somehow, you managed to suck in a shaky breath, a soft whine escaping your lips as he turned your face towards his, and then his lips crashed into yours with a fierce hunger. The kiss was made entirely of tongue, teeth, and saliva. His tongue invaded your mouth, exploring every corner with a desperation that matched your own. His teeth grazed and nipped, a blend of pleasure and pain that sent jolts of heat straight to your core. Saliva mixed and smeared, creating a mess neither of you cared to clean.

As he slowed the piston of his hips, switching to a slow deep grind that had the crown of his cock abusing that sweet spot inside your pussy, your eyes rolled so far into your skull that, for a fleeting moment, you thought you saw your own brain. It was like he was carving his way into your guts and hitting the back of your throat. "Lo-gan!" You gasped as a sob welled in your chest, your tears finally falling, leaving streaks of mascara and eyeliner down your cheeks. "M-more, faster, please," you begged.

He tutted mockingly behind you, each sound dripping with condescension and the unmistakable arrogance of pure male dominance. Before you could react, his open palm came down hard on your arse, the sudden, stinging impact tearing a surprised shriek from your lips. The sharp zing of pain cut through your already-burning skin, sending a fresh wave of moisture surging through your core. The sensation caused your inner muscles to tighten around the length of his shaft, gripping him firmly as he bottomed out inside you, his cock buried to the hilt.

He stilled for a moment, savouring the feeling of being completely enveloped by your slick heat. Without warning, he spanked you again, the loud crack of his hand against your flesh echoing through the room. You hissed at the sharp sting, your pussy clenching around him. He growled in response, the sensation of your tight walls driving him wild.

"Greedy girl," he grunted against your ear. His hand came down again, delivering another hard spank that resonated through your body, the sting of it sending a jolt of pleasurable pain straight to your clit. His hand lingered there, palming the globe of your arse as he admired the perfect handprint he'd left, the outline of his fingers vivid against your flushed skin. He could feel the slickness coating your inner thighs, the evidence of your arousal mixing with the sweat on your skin, dripping from his balls as he thrust hard into you.

The air was thick with the sounds of your shared pleasure, the wet slap of skin against skin as he thrust into you, driving deep, setting a fast pace. "Fuck," he groaned, his voice a rough, guttural sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Keep squeezing me like that, and I'm gonna blow right fucking now."

Logan's gaze remained fixed on your arse, his cock twitching inside you at the thought of what it would be like to actually fuck you there. The idea consumed him, driving him to act on his desires. With a growl, he slipped his thumb into his mouth, wetting it thoroughly before bringing it down to your tight hole. He smeared his spit around your sensitive entrance, groaning deeply as your pussy tightened around him in response.

"Logan!" you cried out, his name slipping from your lips in a breathless plea.

His grin widened at the sound, his expression smug, and he tightened his grip on the nape of your neck, pulling you up onto your hands and knees. “You gonna let me fuck you back here next, bub?” he asked, already knowing what your answer would be.

You moaned wantonly, nodding as you pushed back against him, meeting his powerful thrusts halfway and impaling yourself on his thick cock. “Gods, please, I want it so bad,” you begged, sounding like a common whore.

“Atta girl.”

This was all he said, his voice so arrogant and condescending, before grabbing both your hips tightly, steadying you, his fingers leaving bruises on your skin. The force of his thrusts was maddening, driving you to claw at the sheets, your body teetering on the brink of orgasm embarrassingly quickly. Your walls clamped tightly around him, each movement sending you closer to the edge. It felt like a thunderstorm was tearing through your head, igniting every one of your nerves.

You could hear him grunting, feel the droplets of sweat dripping from his hair onto your back and how his fingers bruised harder into your hips, holding so tightly that your bones were sure to bend and break. But none of this registered in your mind the way it should have. You were lost in the moment, drowning in the overwhelming pleasure about to ruin you.

"Gonna cum—right there, right there—please, please, Logan. I need to cum. Fuck me—ah, harder, fuck, fuck—Logan!"

He was wild and feral—an animal.

Without warning, the air was punched out of your lungs as the orgasm struck you like a bolt of lightning, turning your blood into electricity and your limbs into live wires. You came hard, crying out a pretty symphony of his name as pleasure wracked your body. At the same time, he bottomed out, burying himself balls deep and filling you completely, shooting thick, ivory ropes of cum deep inside you, coating your walls.

Fisting a hand in your hair, he wound the silken strands around his fingers, using the grip to force your face back down against the mattress. His hips ground against your arse, rocking gently back and forth, his movements sending waves of pleasure through your trembling body. And as he came with a guttural growl, his release surged into you, hot and overwhelming, flooding your still-fluttering walls.

The fullness was almost too much, his cum filling you completely until it had nowhere else to go. It began to seep out, slick and warm, trailing down the seam of your pussy where your tight grip on his cock created a barrier. Warmth spread through your body like fire racing through your veins, an intoxicating heat that intensified as he filled, fucked, and possessed you entirely.

His teeth sank into your shoulder in a savage bite as you panted his name in sweet nymphomania, wriggling beneath him, his weight comforting—like a heavy blanket. Logan's tongue followed, laving over your flushed flesh, soothing the sting left by his canines. He growled deeply, savouring the taste of you as his abdominal muscles flexed and his cock ached, twitching inside you with every pulse of your body.

When he finally began to pull out, you couldn't suppress the whine that escaped your lips, the sound filled with a sense of loss. The feeling of emptiness was stark, save for where the head of his cock remained nestled just inside your snug walls, a final intimate connection.

Logan sat back on his haunches, taking a moment to admire the view before him. Your arse was flushed the most beautiful shade of pink, marked by his handprints and the forceful impact of his hips. Thick ribbons of cum dripped from your swollen folds, which were slick with the evidence of your release. The mixture of your arousal and his seed connected you to his cock in a vivid tapestry of desire, each drop falling to the mattress below.

He watched as the thick fluid dripped from both of you, creating a small, glistening pool beneath your bodies. With a rough but affectionate touch, Logan patted your arse, the force making it jiggle and your hips twitch involuntarily. His satisfaction was evident in the low, gravelly tone of his voice. "That felt like a good one," he remarked, a hint of pride lacing his words as he continued to drink in the sight of you, thoroughly used and utterly beautiful.

He snapped his hips forward, rutting into you with surprising vigour, filling you again and relishing in the wet squelching that echoed through the room. Each thrust forced his cum to leak from your well-used pussy, the slick evidence of your coupling escaping with every movement. You gasped, the sensation almost too much to bear, your hips wriggling as though to escape the overwhelming pleasure that teetered on the edge of overstimulation. But Logan only laughed as he thoroughly enjoyed how your body remained so tightly wound, so damn sensitive and ready to take him.

His stamina, just like the weight of his skeleton, was a marvel. It shouldn't have been surprising, given his mutation. His body was in a constant state of peak performance, always regenerating and healing. Logan 'Wolverine' Howlett had never been a one-and-done type of man; he was relentless and insatiable.

"Hope you don't think we're done, bub," he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly promise against your ear. "'Cause we've got all night."

[rafeysbunny]

bf! jj eating you out in the twinkie

your hips buckle impatiently against jj's face, pretty eyes looking through the window of the twinkie to make sure no one's around. he's peppering a bunch of wet kisses all over your creamy thighs, lips gently suckling at the sensitive flesh, which has you panting heavily already.

"c'mon, jay..." you whimper softly, and there's a pleading tone to your sweet voice. "gotta be quick."

only your crazy boyfriend could convince you that it's a good idea to let him eat you out in the back of john b's van in broad daylight, when it's clearly not. not when you're in the middle of a parking lot and your friends are in harbor freight, getting some shopping done for the poguelandia renovation. they could come back at any moment, for god's sake.

"relax, princess. i'll have you cumming in less than five minutes," he whispers cockily, hands sliding up your thighs to push your pretty, floral dress up and around your waist. "just lemme enjoy this for a bit, yeah?"

precisely, it's the dress which has gotten you into this situation in the first place, the piece of clothing making your gorgeous body look so good that jj has been dying to get his hands on you the whole day. "so fuckin' pretty." his warm breath brushes your skin while he talks, his face a few inches from your covered sex, to which he presses a chaste kiss; the action makes you shudder.

he'd keep teasing you with featherlight touches and little kisses for a bit more, relishing in the way your body arches and your hips rock upwards desperately— until he finally hooks his fingers in the gusset of your white cotton panties and pushes them aside gently, exposing your soaked pussy.

"such a dirty girl, huh?" he teases, gliding his fingers through your slit to part your slick folds. "gettin' all wet f'me, knowing our friends could walk in on me eating out this sweet cunt..."

cool air caresses your overheated flesh before he leans in and drags the flat of his tongue up your centre, nice and slow, which makes your whole body shake. your mouth drops open in response as you grab a handful of his soft, blonde hair, hips jerking unconsciously.

he moans at your taste, his piercing, blue eyes locked on yours as he closes his lips around your sensitive clit, his fingers hooking around your supple thighs to keep you spread open for him. you can feel the cool metal of his rings biting into your skin due to his hard grip. that, added to the feeling of his skilled mouth sucking onto your pussy, has your head swimming.

you'd be panting heavily and whimpering in no time, your pussy a sopping mess from your own arousal and his spit. he easily slips two thick digits inside your dripping hole, alternating between sucking and flicking your throbbing bundle of nerves. his fingers crook to rub against that spongy spot at the front that makes your vision blur and your pretty eyes roll back into your skull as you moan, not caring that someone might hear.

the orgasm builds rapidly, the coil in your tummy tightening while your pussy flutters around his fingers and your pretty little toes wiggle inside your converse. as promised, he has you cumming in less than five minutes, the pleasure so much that you squirt onto his handsome face with a whiny whimper, completely soaking everything inside john b's car.

the sight almost makes him cream his pants.

"fuck, jay, how are we gonna clean this shit up?" you'd mutter, still trying catch your breath, just before you both hear your friends' chatter getting close to the twinkie.

hell, you're screwed.

more.

[ozarkthedog]

𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚

summary: Joel Miller loves how responsive you are.

warnings: 18+ mdni. feral!joel miller x afab!reader. smut. feels. dirty talk. pussy & cock pronouns. Joel calls himself “Daddy” one time.

word count: 867

author's note: idk what this is. it probably doesn't make sense but i'm posting it anyways so i can work on other things. xo.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐬 ⋅ 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

Joel Miller loves how responsive you are.

He's being a tease, but with the unholy moans he is pulling from your lips, he can't seem to stop. All of your airy gasps and desperate whines make every inch of his cock throb.

"He makin' you feel good?" Joel asks, kissing the underside of your jaw, scraping his graying scruff along the soft skin. "With all those pretty noises, he must be."

You clutch your limbs around his broad, sun-kissed shoulders and sturdy abdomen as he devastatingly fucks you into his matress, forcing you to cling to him for support as he saws his hips back and forth.

An intoxicating thrill of power surges. Joel's lips quirk, tugging into a grin. It's selfish, but he loves how much you depend on him.

"Thatta girl, takin' e'ery inch just like I knew you could." he husks, enjoying the shiver his praise gives you.

Every shove of his hips leaves you breathless and panting. It's as if each thrust is your very first. Joel splitting you open, for him and only him.

Your 'O' shaped lips, the way your brows pinch above your wary eyes, and the delicate mewls set him ablaze. Joel wonders if he should be concerned with how much he wants to wring every sound from those pretty lips, which are still swollen from earlier in the night.

As you sat naked between his thighs, swallowing his cock, your muffled moans were enough to have him leaking over your tongue. The way your hands curled around his thick, hairy thighs like you couldn't get enough, forcing yourself to gag when his bulbous crown hit your tonsils.

Joel tenderly cupped the back of your head, prepared to soothe your insecurities. Still, you stayed latched, happily drooling down his veiny shaft.

A giggle rumbled through the tight confines of your throat. It caught Joel off guard as you smiled up at him with spit-drenched lips and eyes so bright they sparkled like a Texas midnight sky.

From that moment on, Joel knew he didn't want anyone else.

He wants to play your body like the aged acoustic leaning against the wall in his bedroom. Strum and pluck all the right spots that create the finest tunes and melodies.

Joel eases off his elbows and kisses his way down your body before sitting back on his heels, watching with intrigue as he withdraws from your silky vice lock; your begging cries are a choir of angels to his ears. His girthy tip is still notched at your opening, keeping him warm and safe while you squirm and sob under his stormy gaze.

Turmoil sinks beneath his skin. He wants to comfort your cries and give you all that you ask, but never cease those sinful sounds.

Joel hooks a thumb past your lips and presses down on your tongue, keeping you open and pliant. He rests his forehead on yours, staring down into your watery eyes.  

"Shh, s'ok. Daddy's got you," he purrs before sharply thrusting into your velvet cunt.

A choked sob catches in your throat, your lips forced to close, but Joel's thumb doesn't move; he wants to hear it all.

"No, no, lemme hear those pretty noises," he shakes his head and cants his hips, spreading you even wider for him.

A wave of intangible moans vibrates his thumb. It makes him hard, so hard, it feels like his cock will never soften. Every rapturous moan slinks up his spine until it punctures his skull and takes root in his brain.

"Such'a good girl, come on, get him all messy," Joel grunts, cutting himself off with a groan as your cunt grips his girth.

His lips pull into a feral snarl when a fresh wave of sticky arousal coats his heavy sack, enticing him to quicken his pace. It's brutal and unforgiving, bruising his pelvis and the backs of your thighs, but your corrupt moans are a drug; he only wants more.

If it wasn't for his stubborn hold on your hip and jaw, he would've fucked your blissful, ragdoll body up the bed, grunting like a wild beast.

"Gettin' real tight. She tryin' 'ta milk me dry?" Joel demands, lightly squeezing the back of your neck when your eyes begin to flutter from the impending pleasure.

A wet hiccup breaches your lips, and you dumbly nod.

Joel covers you with his body, shielding you from the outside world. He slides his thumb back further, pressing down on the meat of your tongue. His cock pulses and grazes your cervix when you gag on the imposing digit.

"Thatta girl." He splays a hand on the crest of your plump mound before landing a heavy thumb over your swollen, glistening clit. "Come on, show me how tight she can get."

Joel draws tight circles around your tiny, slick coated button, relishing the way your body stiffens and erupts with a hoarse cry as you shatter in his hold. He has to bite his cheek to avoid coming just from the perverse noises that spill from your parted lips.

In a depraved way, Joel thinks he wants to be haunted by your obscene melodies for the rest of eternity.

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

reblogs & comments are extremely appreciated! follow @ozzieslibrary for new fic updates!

[dmitriene]

bouncing on simon's fat cock that nestled deep into your slimy, squelching cunt, you're wearing his pajama shirt with a cracked, frayed skull print on the dark fabric that lifts up with every slap of your supple ass against his muscular, lightly hairy thighs.

shirt flutters up every time you plunk down on his meaty shaft with a loud squelch of your gooey pussy, throbbing tip oozing pearly precum against your sleek walls as simon rolls back his head with noisy sighs and growling moans, beefy hands pawing at your pretty body through the black fabric.

you don't let him get under the shirt to squeeze and stroke your naked skin, slide up to tease your perky nipples, you only lean closer to cover his neck with sharp bites and hot kisses, watching the fair skin turn burning red under your soft lips.

your delicate fingers crawl between your own legs, touching the slick of juices that smear the inside of your willowy thighs, finding the throbbing nub of your engorged clit, flicking the puffy flesh and making the walls of your cunt pulse and clench, which pulls chocked, whiny moan out of simon's thin lips

— “bloody hell, g-god — i'm close, s-sweetheart, slow the heck down!„ yet you don't hear his plea, all the sounds in your ears are incoherent buzz as you arch your back like a cat, white flash of pleasure rolls through your body, making your gooey cunt clamp on simon's fat cock, spurting with your sweet, creamy cum.

it triggers his own orgasm, causing simon to twitch as his dark eyes roll back back into his skull, calloused hands roughly grip the curve of your waist, pinning you in place, letting his cock press into your spongy spot and jerk with spurting ropes of his thick load.

simon's ragged gasps lost against the background of your sweet, slurred mewls of — “s-si! fuckfuckfuck, feels good!„ as he fills you with jerking hips and shallow pumps till your combined cum leaks from your creamed pussy back towards his hairy pelvis.

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3.

[tojisun]

john price and omegaverse and marking and how he thinks he's too old for it; that he's missed the opportunity, the timing, what with his duties and loyalties. and now that he's retired, he's tired and weary for a bond. he has nothing else to give a mate; no desire for a family or to start a pack because he's already got his own - the boys are his, no matter wherever they are, scattered by the years that crawled by - but.

finding you threw a wrench in his plans; ruining the quiet life he's envisioned, cycling through his rut with tentative partners and partial commitments. of a life, banal but one that he had so wanted during his prime years when he was there, cupped hands full of blood. of decay.

but you.

oh how sweet you are.

beautiful as you mewl, tears and hiccups just much more endearing as you wriggle underneath him, trapped between the bed and his bulk. the pleasure exceeds everything he's already experienced, turning him over - a new leaf, a new season. unchartered desires cross the roof of his mouth, building. the froth is thick, clogging his throat.

your neck is bare. unmarked. ripe for the taking.

john's gums ache, pulsing. saliva trickles, viscous as they bathe his teeth - poisoned fangs poised for a strike. he bows forward, pitching close, his nose brushing over the sweaty strands of your hair, only-

"n'yet," you hiccup, a sad little thing, and john agrees.

not yet.

there is so much more to be done, so much more he needs to prove to you; in the courting, the bonding, even with your heat.

but the hunger has reached its peak, ready for the strike, and john presses back against his skull, fighting against instinct-

blood bursts in his jowls, slipping down his tongue and into his throat. it closes up at the familiar tang - john had covered your nape with the back of his arm and sunk his teeth into his own skin.

this will leave a mark. a proof of his devotion. a show of his restraint.

his omega purrs, pleased, and john feels elated; so drunken by the scent of your happiness that his bones feel liquified, like ample jellies have replaced the marrows.

the copper in his throat is drying by the time he pulls out and turns you so you could meet his gaze. your eyes are puffy with tears but you draw him close for a kiss anyway, your tender tongue lapping at the corner of his lips, tasting himself.

you hum in delight, and john rumbles, nuzzling into the soft press of your neck.

he kisses at a tender spot.

"here," he murmurs as he breathes you in. "i'll sink it here."

"yes," you gasp out, voice breathless. "yes, please."

[shotmrmiller]

dacryphilia baby!

simon's never really liked tears. people cry ugly, in his opinion. they get puffy-eyed, sclera bloodshot. their features twist ungracefully in their anguish, cheeks damp and ruddy. snot drips down their nose; clear, viscous. their mouths gape mid-sob, their shoulders tremble violently as they snort and gasp between fragmented words.

(never mind that the only time he's ever around a crying someone is when he stands in an interrogation room with a broken man who has crumbled under the pain he's inflicted, begging for mercy, coughing up anything and everything he needs to know.)

until he met you, with your bright eyes, soft lips, and gentle spirit.

tears suddenly make his cock throb. the first time he'd seen them, you'd been straddling his lap, wet heat struggling to stretch and accommodate to his size. your eyes glistened with unshed tears as you sank onto him, keening at feeling so full and he's barely halfway in. brave, little pet. sinking your teeth into your bottom lip to keep from making too much noise. you'd looked a dream when your cunt finally swallowed him whole, thighs flush against his, looking up at him triumphantly with beads of moisture on your clumped lashes.

the second time, you'd been stressed from work, nerves raw and frayed, and patience nonexistent. nothing he couldn't fix with his head between your thighs. he plopped you on the kitchen counter, ignoring your snarling protests, and lapped up your slick with the thirst of a man lost in a desert. you came in minutes, hiccupping his name through sharp gasps of breath. you'd been spent after, body slumping with fatigue post torrent of cathartic release. he'd held your face in one hand, fingers dimpling your cheeks as he fucked your thighs, covering your cunt with his spend when a singular tear spilled from the corner of your eye.

and now. he clings to the idea of making you cry from overstimulation. he wants to see tears track down your dampened cheeks, yearns to taste salt on his tongue, aches to see your eyes glimmering under the warm glow of the bedroom lamp in the bedroom. the mere thought of your tears flowing down your face in rivulets leaves him momentarily unbalanced. he could burst in his pants untouched.

you're always so pliable beneath him, so giving when he wants to take. simon slides a finger through your wet folds, gently prodding your entrance, teasing. he knows exactly what to do to get you to the brink and keep you there— teetering that knife's sharpened edge of biting discomfort and searing ecstasy. "so close, m'so close," you garble as you try to buck your hips (he pins them down to the bed firmly, you will receive what he gives and nothing more) and he keeps at it until your throbbing pussy hurts from being held back from the edge. until you beg him with shimmering eyes to please, please, let you come. you'll be good, so good, just— please.

he gives it to you, satisfied with how delicious you look— all glossy-lipped and luminous eyes— swirling your swollen pearl under his thumb until you climax, pushing two fingers into your cunt so you can have something to clench around. your soul is barely coming back down from the heavens when he's pressing your thighs against your chest, knees almost to shoulders, feeling the air in your lungs being punched out of you when he bottoms out in one long stroke. the angle is on the verge of too much, feeling that deep pinch in your stomach you'd felt the very first time he rut his cock into you.

simon can see your eyes well with fresh tears, his throat drying at the sight. he starts to put his weight behind each thrust, hearing the squeaks that fall past your lips. you take what he gives you so well, pride prickling in the base of his skull. it tightens the coil that's spooling oh so ever tighter beneath his navel but it's not enough. he wants what he wants.

he weaves a hand down to your sensitive clit, rubbing tight circles on it until he feels your walls fluttering and squeeze him like a vicious vise. it rips the breath out of him, almost has him fucking his cum into you but he sharpens his focus— gritting his teeth to keep from ending the fun. his iron will has never been so useful. you're wriggling beneath him now as if trying to get away from him (as if you could) because he keeps touching your clit. your legs are shaking, your mewls are loud enough to cause a ringing in his ears but he quickly gets you to another orgasm. you're a sobbing mess now; hiccups, gasps, high-pitched squeals.

and tears. full-blown tears spill, roll down your pretty face, sticking strands of your hair to cheeks. he wants to see this forever. wants it etched behind his eyelids, wants it inked on his skin (what a thought. he just might, no one has to know.)

he relents, abandoning your over-sensitized clit to grab at your fleshy hips to piston into you until he comes with a groan (and salt on his lips)