#V belt problems

[pedrospatch]

strawberry

Daddy Dom! Joel Miller x Sub! Female Reader

summary: You feel ashamed for using your safe word with Joel during a session—he assures you you’re his good girl no matter what.

warnings/tags: 18+ only, MINORS DNI. (TW) daddy kink, lots of dd/lg lifestyle elements, reader is collared (day collar) age gap that is self indulgent, reader is mid to late 20’s and Joel is in his 50’s but tweak that to your imaginations if you like. SMUT; p in v sex, rough sex (that reader asks to try), spanking, possible overstimulation (if you squint??) Joel basically fucks reader too much and too hard. USE OF SAFE WORD. aftercare and lots of fluff, references to a pop culture film that i haven’t seen in forever but it’s fine. PLEASE BE MINDFUL OF TAGS AND WARNINGS. if this isn’t your thing, no worries just scroll on by.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION.

word count: 2.4k

a/n: this is totally self indulgent, all for me as someone who has dabbled in the lifestyle before. if this is not your thing, no problem at all but kindly keep any negative comments to yourself. huge shoutout to the lovely @swiftispunk for inspiring this with the snippets of her own upcoming series that i am oh so excited for, darling han thank you for not only inspiring this, but for listening to me talk about it and encouraging it! and also to sweet mya @cavillscurls because truth be told her own fic brought back so many memories of a time in my life where i was genuinely so happy, in love, and felt safe with a partner. okay, i am gonna run away to the gym now to listen to 1989 tv (again) and pretend posting this is not nerve wracking as hell.

He’s fucked you plenty of times before.

But never like this. No, never, ever like this.

He’s relentless.

His thrusts are coming quicker, sloppier, harsher.

It doesn’t hurt, but it’s intense. Too intense.

Joel Miller is truly testing your limits tonight.

No, he was pushing you past your limits.

Because that’s what you’d asked him to do.

“Alright, sweet girl. This is the last time I’m gonna ask you before we get started. Are you absolutely, one hundred—no, one thousand percent sure that you wanna try this out tonight?” he had asked you beforehand, skimming the strap of your light pink, lace lingerie with his index finger, his feathery soft touch sending a plesant little chill down the length of your spinal column. Of all the sets you owned, it had to be Joel’s absolute favorite. Normally, it was him who would pick out what you would wear, but tonight he’d decided to let you choose for yourself and oh, you did not disappoint. He fucking adored you in the color pink; loved how sickeningly sweet, precious, and innocent you appeared in the hue as you did the filthiest things to him, with him. When you nodded eagerly in reply to his question, a sigh fell from his lips, the doubt written all over his face as he remarked, “I really don’t think you’re ready. I think we should wait just a little a while longer.”

“I’m ready,” you’d insisted, stubbornly. “I promise. I wouldn’t be asking for it if I thought I wasn’t. But I am, I promise, promise, promise I am.”

“Daddy knows what’s best for you, sweetheart—”

Fingers curled around his bicep, you’d batted your eyelashes, giving him those eyes that brought him down to his knees for you a lot more often than he cared to admit, those eyes that made Joel feel like he was learning his role all over again, despite over two decades of experience under his belt. He used to pride himself for his ability to stand firm against pouting lips, fluttering lashes, and pleading gazes. And then you come along and suddenly it’s like he is in his thirties again and he’s navigating this kind of dynamic for the first time. Even after a year and a half with you, he’s still trying to figure out how to completely unwrap himself from your little finger.

“Please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

Christ, you made things so goddamn difficult.

“You really think you’re gonna be able to handle it? You think you’re gonna be able to handle me when I get real rough with you, baby? Hm?”

Without missing a beat, you replied, “Yes, Daddy. I can handle it. I know I can.”

You had been so certain that you could.

Confident, even. So confident that when he began going over the rules and reminded you to use your safe word if you needed him to stop, you’d giggled and stated, “I’ve never needed to use it before and I don’t plan on using it tonight.”

Oh, how very wrong you had been about it all.

You’d overestimated yourself, and underestimated Joel. Severely.

His hips snap roughly into yours without an ounce of mercy, over and over, again and again. Beads of perspiration start trailing their way down the sides of his face, the tip of his nose. His chest is flushed, red, and also slicked with a thin sheen of sweat.

You’ve already shattered, unraveled, come undone all over his cock several times—every time with his granted permission, of course. Because you knew better than to come without Daddy’s permission.

Your cunt is swollen, sensitive, too sensitive and at a point where it could start aching if he doesn’t let up soon. However, it seems like Joel’s only getting rougher and rougher as he chases another release.

“Joel—Daddy,” you manage to correct yourself at the very last second through a slew of frantic little gasps for air. “Daddy, please! Daddy please—”

His large hand tightens around both of your wrists pinned to the mattress above your head. Surely he must think you’re begging him for more, when the reality is you’re about to start begging him to stop because it’s just too much and you can’t handle it; but there’s a part of you that doesn’t want to stop, the part of you that doesn’t want to disappoint the man who means the whole, entire world to you.

The man you belonged to, the man you loved.

Even through the haze, you try telling yourself that it’s all mind over matter, mind over matter, mind—

“Stop,” you whine, squirming underneath him. “I—can’t take it anymore, Daddy, I can’t take it—!”

Releasing your wrists, Joel pulls himself out of you and you breathe out in relief, until he flips you over onto your stomach without warning. You let out an audibly loud gasp when his hands reach down and take your hips, pulling them up off his bed, putting you on your hands and knees. He brings down one of his hands on your ass in a stinging slap. “That is just too bad, ‘cause Daddy ain’t done with you yet, darlin’ girl. Not even close to bein’ done with you.” Wrapping his other hand around his base, he grins to himself as he glides the head of his cock up and down your slick folds. When it grazes your clit, you jerk forward, away from him, and he tuts, bringing you back to him, his fingers digging into the pillow soft flesh of your hips. “Oh no baby, you ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

“But Daddy, I just can’t—”

You’re cut off by your own cry when you feel Joel’s length stretching your walls all over again. It’s just too much.

And you really, really can’t.

He leans over you and presses his lips to your ear. “You asked for this, didn’tcha? Asked to be fucked like a big girl, huh?” He bucks forward into you, eliciting another strangled cry followed by a string of pathetic whimpers. Bringing his palm down in a second strike, he demands, “Answer me when I’m takin’ to you. You wanted this, said that you could handle Daddy bein’ rough with you, ain’t that right now?”

“Strawberry.” You say the word so quietly, you can hardly hear it over the ringing in your ears.

Joel spanks you for a third time, in the exact same spot—so hard, there was simply no way you would wake up without a mark in the morning. “I need’ya to speak up. You’re such a big girl after all—”

“Strawberry!” You grasp fistfuls of bedsheets and the signal for it all to end tears itself from the back of your throat. “Strawberry, Joel! Strawberry!”

It’s only a millisecond that he freezes, if that.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Joel curses under his breath, pulling out of you. The bed shifts as he climbs off of it and scrambles to pull on his sweatpants before he’s at your side—you’re still on your hands and knees, an unmistakable look of panic on your face. He puts a gentle hand on your back. “Baby, are you alright?”

Your heart is pounding, your breathing labored but you manage a small, tight nod of your head. “I-I’m fine. I just—” Stopping, you grip the sheets tighter, warm tears brimming your eyes. Shame over what you’ve just done is already creeping in and sinking into your bones.

“Are you hurt, sweetheart? Did I hurt you?”

Joel’s voice is calm, but you can hear the concern that laces his tone.

“No.” Your own voice is small. “No. You didn’t hurt me.”

“Is it alright if I move you?” he asks. When you nod your head, he reaches out for you and helps you to sit on the side of the bed. Dropping to his knees in front of you, he takes your hands and his and feels his stomach sink when he realizes they’re ice cold; he begins rubbing them between his own to warm them up. “Baby if I hurt you, you need to tell m—”

“I promise, you didn’t hurt me,” you reassure him, swallowing the thickness rising in the back of your throat. You clock the skepticism in his dark brown eyes and a tear slips out, rolls down your face, and splatters onto your bare thigh. “I’m not lying, Joel. I swear.” Tugging one of your hands out of his, you reach up and instinctively clasp it around the blue sapphire pendant hanging from the delicate, gold chain around your neck—he’d presented you with his birthstone last year, not only as a symbol of his ownership of you, but also as a beautiful reminder of your commitment to one another. “You believe me, don’t you? You believe I’m telling the truth?”

Joel’s expression softens. “‘Course I do, baby.” He cups the side of your face gently, brushing away a second teardrop with his thumb. “But I’d really like to know what happened so I can figure out how to best help, okay? Can you tell me what happened?”

Embarrassed, you try turning your head away, but he holds your cheek in his hand, gentle but firm.

“S’okay. You can talk to me,” he encourages softly, his gaze meeting yours once again. “Tell me.”

“It was just too much,” you mumble, meekly. “And too intense.” Heat floods your face as you admit to him, “You were right. I just wasn’t—I wasn’t ready for that yet.”

In an effort to lighten your mood, Joel lightly gives your cheek a delicate pinch and chuckles.

“Daddy’s got that real annoyin’ habit of bein’ right ‘bout a lot of things, don’t he?”

“I’m sorry.” Your bottom lip quivers. “I’m so sorry.”

His smile falters. “Sorry for what?”

“For using the safe word—”

Joel’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Y’know you ain’t supposed to apologize for needin’ to use your safe word, right? That ain’t how it works, darlin’.”

Dropping your necklace, you place your hand over his on your cheek. “But I feel bad,” you confess. “It makes me feel like—like I let you down, you know? And that’s the last thing I want to do. I just wanted to be really good for you.”

“Oh baby.” Joel lifts himself from the floor. He sits on the bed and pulls you onto his lap, brushing his lips against your temple. “You are such a good girl for me, sweetheart.”

“But I couldn’t take it,” you sniff. “I had to stop.”

“And that’s okay,” he assures you. He wraps you in his arms and gives your body a gentle squeeze. “It ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed ‘bout. You’re still really new to a lot of this stuff, y’know? S’why I told you I didn’t think you were ready.”

“I should’ve listened to you.”

He winks. “You should always listen to Daddy.”

You offer him a tiny, watery smile. “I know.”

“And say we try this again one day and it’s just not somethin’ you like or that makes you feel good—or maybe you never wanna try it again at all,” he says with a nonchalant shrug. “That’s okay too. You are still my good girl no matter what—my perfect girl. Always. You understand me?”

“Really? You promise?”

Joel holds up his pinky.

“Oh, you’re being really serious,” you tease him.

“Sure as hell am, darlin’.”

You lock your finger around his and he pulls you in for a sweet kiss.

“I love you, Joel,” you murmur against his lips. You giggle again when he clears his throat and smacks your ass lightly, playfully. “I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you too, baby.” Joel pulls away and touches the tip of his nose to yours. “How’s ‘bout we get in the bath and get all cleaned up? Hm?”

“A bath?” You instantly perk up. “With bubbles?”

“With bubbles. And I’ll even let you throw in one of those smelly ball things you fuckin’ love so much.”

You swat at his chest. “Hey! My bath bombs smell really good, thank you very much!”

Joel doesn’t particularly like emerging from a bath smelling like a petunia, but for you, he’s more than happy to bathe in a sea of them, glitter and all.

You trace his collarbone with your index finger.

“Daddy? After our bath can we just cuddle in bed? Maybe watch a movie?” He raises an eyebrow and you smile sheepishly, adding, “Please?”

“‘Course. Pick any movie you want, sweetheart.”

“And can we have ice cream while we watch too?”

He pins you with a stern look. “Alright, now you’re just pushin’ it and takin’ advantage.”

You jut your lower lip. “Please, Daddy?”

There’s no arguing with that, not tonight.

Joel decides to let you have your way. “Alright.”

The two of you spend quite some time in the bath; normally a bath together ends with him inside you all over again, but tonight, all he’s doing is running a soapy wash cloth with your favorite shower gel—japanese cherry blossom—all over your body as he sits behind you, lips pressed against your ear. Joel washes you slowly, carefully, and all the while he’s whispering sweet, tender praise.

My good girl.

My perfect girl.

I’m s’proud of you.

I’m the luckiest man in the whole world.

After the bath, once you’re both dried and dressed in comfortable clothes—him in a clean pair of gray sweatpants and you in nothing but his t-shirt, Joel gives you the remote and instructs you to pick out a movie to watch.

“Make yourself real comfortable, baby,” he says to you, kissing the top of your head. “I’ll be back with that ice cream.”

You shoot him a hopeful glance. “Strawberry?”

“You tryin’ to be funny with me, darlin’?”

“No! That’s just my favorite flavor, silly.”

Joel grins to himself as he leaves the bedroom.

He knows that. Of course he knows that.

It’s why he always keeps a pint of it in his freezer.

You hop into bed and pull the blankets around you as your scan through the guide for a movie—you’d just decided on The Notebook when Joel appears again, a bowl and two spoons in his hands.

“You picked The Notebook again, didn’t you?” he asks without even looking at the flat screen that’s mounted on his wall over the fireplace.

“You said I could pick any movie I wanted.”

“Was just hopin’ you’d pick one we haven’t seen a thousand times,” he chuckled, sliding into his bed next to you. Joel places the bowl of strawberry ice cream in his lap and hands you a spoon. “C’mere, my sweet girl. Come closer.”

You snuggle up to him, and the two of you dig into the frozen dessert as the movie begins to play.

“Baby?” Joel speaks after a while, just as Allie and Noah share a passionate kiss in the pouring rain.

“Hm?” you ask, your fixed eyes on the flat screen, your mouth full of ice cream.

“You sure you’re okay?”

Swallowing, you look up at Joel, meeting his gaze.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you answer honestly.

“‘Cause if there’s anythin’ else I can do for you…”

You purse your lips together and let out a tiny hum as you mull it over for a moment.

“You can hold me closer?” you finally suggest.

Joel shifts in his spot. “I can definitely do that—”

You stop him and point to the empty bowl.

“After you go and get us some more ice cream?”

He exhales an amused snort through his nose and shuffles out of bed, taking the bowl with him.

“Don’t get so used to bossin’ Daddy around,” Joel warns you playfully over his shoulder.

“Too late.”

divider credit to @saradika ��

[tauvesims]

UNAPOLOGETIC - CLOTHING SET

You will get:

Tie top

10 Swatches | HQ Compatible

Female Frame | Teen - Elder

New mesh | All lods

Custom thumbnails

Buttons V blouse

14 Swatches | HQ Compatible

Female Frame | Teen - Elder

New mesh | All lods

Custom thumbnails

American football shirt

9 Swatches | HQ Compatible

Female Frame | Teen - Elder

New mesh | All lods

Custom thumbnails

Belt mini skirt

12 Swatches | HQ Compatible

Female Frame | Teen - Elder

New mesh | All lods

Custom thumbnails

Sporty shorts

12 Swatches | HQ Compatible

Female Frame | Teen - Elder

New mesh | All lods

Custom thumbnails

Mule heels

8 Swatches | HQ Compatible

Female Frame | Teen - Elder

New mesh | All lods

Custom thumbnails

Belt boots

7 Swatches | HQ Compatible

Female Frame | Teen - Elder

New mesh | All lods

Custom thumbnails

Cross necklace

7 Swatches | HQ Compatible

Female Frame | Teen - Elder

New mesh | All lods

Custom thumbnails

Square bracelet

6 Swatches | HQ Compatible

Female Frame | Teen - Elder

New mesh | All lods

Custom thumbnails

some ground rules:

do not- claim them as your own

do not- upload them anywhere for download (please)

do- @ me so i can see you!

do- lmk if you have ANY problems

Also, a big thank you to azahhyat, trashbunzy, rosiewhimz  and angelicalsims for modelling!

-------------------------------

DOWNLOAD (EA: 12/24)

DOWNLOAD BLENDER VER (only available for my 3rd tier)

[ma1dita]

Hi Jo! So excited for your monster mash 🥰 Can I get one ticket for the graveyard mash starring Spencer Reid with a 🍫 and 🌭 please. Thank you!

freaks come out at night

[STARRING: SPENCER REID x reader ; “Really? Now? God, you have terrible timing.” “Please just play along.”] wc: 1.9k warnings: MDNI — afab!reader, semi-public van sex, choking with a belt, no protection p in v, totally against regulation, errrr i saw discourse that spencer doesn’t fuck but with the amount of smut on this hellsite… yeah right. anyways. that man is a freak. consent is sexy, enjoy. title from the whodini song

monster mash-terlist

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“Excuse me? Mr. Officer?”

Your heels clacking against the pavement catches Reid & Morgan’s attention. It’s dark on the street you’re on, the shadows of your face illuminated by the red and blue hues of light from the squad cars that surround the house where the unsub was apprehended. They've been on this case for a week, and everyone’s ready to shake hands and go home. And so are you, it seems; your confidence always gets you into difficult situations; however, asking cops for a ride home instead of staying with the creep at the club sounds like a better idea.

“Hi sweetheart, what’s wrong? This is a crime scene,” Morgan croons smoothly, leaning against the van as he looks you up and down, “you don’t look like you belong here.” It’s condescending almost, the suave tenor of his voice making you feel like you’re being talked down on.

All you want to do is go home, charge your phone, and go to bed. Spencer is too busy fidgeting with the buttons on his dress shirt as he rolls his sleeves back down to look more professional. But it’s hard to impress a pretty girl in a sparkly dress at three in the morning, especially when you don’t even glance his way.

“Yeah, there’s been this guy following me for a few blocks now. Can I get one of you to drive me home? It’s not too far,” you say dismissively, crossing your arms over your chest as the wind picks up. You shiver slightly, hands brushing the skirt of your dress down. Someone calls their attention from near the house, closing down the investigation and Morgan nods lightly with Spencer looking into the distance behind you, trying to find the person giving you trouble.

“Who’s giving you a problem? Want me to talk to him?”

He means it so earnestly, but nothing about Spencer Reid screams intimidating. Tweed blazer, clubmaster glasses, and Converse adorning his frame—-he looks like the kids you knew got bullied in middle school. It makes you giggle, “No offense, you’re not scary, Mr. Officer. Please just play along and let me ride it out.” Morgan hides a smile behind his shoulder and claps Reid on the back as if to say, all yours, pretty boy. You’re pointing at the black van, tapping it with your hand, “This one okay?” But you’ve already opened the door to the passenger seat and climbed in, dress riding up your thighs and giving them a view of your underwear. He swallows hard, looking at his friend who will surely never let him live this down, “Wanna come? I don’t like driving.”

Morgan rolls his eyes at how dumb the smartest man he knows can be when it comes to women, “Just get in the van and take her home, Reid. I’ll meet you back at the hotel.” The car keys are thrown (ie. fumbled) into Spencer’s hands as he sighs and walks around the front of the vehicle, mumbling, “Actually, I’m a doctor…”

“Your badge says you’re an agent,” you quip, watching him slide in and start the ignition. He turns the car lights on, looking your way as he pulls out onto the street, “I’m both.” 

Impressive.

Giving him the directions, you sit back and admire the profile of his face in the dark. He’s cute, you suppose—pushing his glasses up to avoid the glare of passing headlights, nose scrunched up in concentration as he tries to not let his mind wander while you tell him about your night.

“Yeah, and then after he was being nice to me, he groped me on the dancefloor. I mean, what a jerk! Can you imagine that, Doctor?”

“Spencer,” he mumbles, making you hum in acknowledgment. And no he cannot. He’s really trying not to. You’re expressive when you speak, hands flying in the air and touching everywhere from the dashboard, to his arm, and then his thigh. His hands clench around the steering wheel, wondering how you’re able to be so blunt with a complete stranger.

“You look like a Spencer.”

“Do I?”

Crossing your legs and leaning against the window to face him more, you look sinful in the passing shadows that blur behind your head. He blinks, reminding himself that he’s in control of the car, and redirects his focus on the road.

“Yeah. Too bad I’m not into nice guys,” you smirk, biting your lip, “Nice guys try to fuck me in public without even asking, apparently.” The car swerves the slightest bit, and neither of you says anything until he pulls into your apartment parking lot.

“Right here should be fine.”

He puts the car into park, lights flicking on as he unlocks the doors and the only thing you can see is his boner straining through the material of his slacks. The sheer sight of it and the hilarity of the situation make you bark out in laughter, “Really? Now? After I tell you about my shitshow of a night, you get hard after hearing that?” His cheeks redden in the dim light as he folds his hands in his lap, sputtering out a response, “I d-didn’t mean to… I’m sorry!”

“I’m not like him, I promise!” But you’re already getting out of the van and Spencer quickly files this into the section of his brain where he keeps suppressed memories because this is humiliating for him, actually— and then you’re opening the door to the backseat.

“Not like what, Spencer?”

His brows furrow as he watches you, frozen and calculating every possible way that tonight will go because it’s rare that Spencer Reid is surprised— “What?”

“Are you a nice guy, or are you a creep?”

And he pushes his glasses up, expression pressed into something you can’t read—maybe it’s something they’ve taught him in the FBI, you think, and he clears his throat, insisting, “I’m a nice guy. I’m one of the good guys.”

“You have terrible timing. Are you moving back here or not? I’m not fucking you in my apartment. I barely know you after all.”

So your confidence does put you into difficult situations. 

But you never thought it would get you bent over and fucked in the back seat of a cruiser with half your body sprawled over the center console. It’s a tight fit, your slick skin sliding against the leather and you don’t suppose a nice guy would do half the things Spencer is doing to you now, and his big hands are gripping the fat of your hips as he watches you bounce on his thick cock with bated breath.

The difference between him and other ‘nice guys’ you’ve encountered is that he’s verbal with his wants and makes sure that you’re enjoying yourself—and despite your eyes rolling to the back of your head and fervent moans, you’re still not sure he believes you.

“Ngh—fuck! Just like that…” you whine as he takes control, maneuvering you so that he can pull you up and down by his hold on your forearms. Spencer eagerly lifts his hips to meet yours, his length pistoning into your tight hole, the sound of skin and squelch echoing through the vehicle as he groans loudly, “This okay? Does this…feel good?”

“More! Mmm…harder, Spencer…I—”

“Not what I was asking, pretty,” he pants, thrusting into your soaked pussy with a jolt and stopping. Your cheek smacks against the gear shift and you cry, knees going weak at the sound of his voice, “I said, is this okay?”

“Yes! Stop asking!”

He slams into you again at the sound of your agreement, your belly hitting the console and squeezing around his cock as you lay there almost begging for him to do it again. But spit drips down the side of your mouth, along with the words you can’t string into a coherent sentence. The material of your dress is bunched around your torso, and his hands slither up your spine, feeling the way you breathe under his touch; you can’t see him from here but you know he’s smiling.

“I need to hear it, pretty girl,” he coos, tracing the letters of his name across your shoulder blades, and all you can do is laugh.

“Yes, your cock feels really good,” you hum, looking back at him and biting your lip, “In fact, you could go harder. You’ddo that for me, wouldn’t you, Mr. Nice Guy?”

“Doctor Reid…” 

He’s breathing heavily at your stare, noting the streaks of mascara down your cheeks and how your eyes seem to glint at him in the moonlight. So he yanks you up into the backseat with him, pressing you into the same position; ass up and face down and you shiver at the sound of his belt buckle clinking in the dark, “What are you doing?” you mumble, catchingyour breath while you can.

“M’gonna choke you if that’s okay.” 

It sounds so innocent coming out of his mouth and you’re grinning at the feeling of leather wrapping around your neck, fastened tight but not so much so that you’ll asphyxiate. You know he’ll be taking your breath away regardless, and he’s whispering into the shell of your ear, asking if you’re comfortable and pressing a soft kiss that feels incandescent against your skin.

One of Spencer’s hands spreads your cheeks open for his dick to make its way through your warm flesh, arching your back into his hold as the other hand tugs on the belt to pull you up. The choked sound that leaves your lungs is so filthy he has to try not to cum right then and there. 

“Please,” you whine, wiggling your hips as your hand slips down the glass pane, “Need you to fuck me.” Every inch that slides in has you moaning louder, and Spencer’s the one laughing now, “Should I still ask if you’re doing okay?”

“Oh…Just fuck me already Spencer!”

His jaw clenches as he starts fucking himself into your warmth, one hand on your shoulder and the other wrapped around his belt making you wheeze. Your ass shakes with the car, the force of his cock pounding into you with vigor, and Spencer moans, “F-fuck! You’re shaking…” His balls clap against the plump of your body as your throat feels the pressure of his efforts, and big hands pull you into a seated position so he can get a better look at your face. It’s puffed up with the lack of air and your pupils are unfocused, fucked stupid, and happy at the feeling of his rigid cock against the soft of your walls, mumbling incoherently as your eyes connect.

“Yes, yes, yes…So fucking deep…”

Spencer slides his hand around your torso, putting his fingers beneath sweaty fabric so he can touch your skin, thumb rubbing against your belly button and tongue licking up the side of your collarbone, still rocking into you as he loses it, finally letting go of the belt. You fall over with a shaking gasp and hear him groan, hot spurts of cum painting your motionless back. Noticing the car windows are foggy, you smile to yourself. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into? Reaching down to grab your underwear, you stop when you feel Spencer delicately wiping his cum off you with a handkerchief.

“Mmm. You really are a nice guy.”

He helps you readjust your clothes first before his, “I told you that.” It’s quiet in the car again, and you’re not sure what to say, but there’s no point in being shy now.

“You wanna see my apartment?” you muse, smiling sweetly at him, and he quirks his brow, “I thought you didn’t let strangers into your apartment.”

“I think we’re past that, don’t you?”

Spencer doesn't make it back to the hotel until right before check out the next morning.

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ma1dita's monster mash is closed for requests but ongoing for the rest of october!

[cryptfile]

★ kinktober file 01 — wandering star, d. winchester

based on this request here, fem! reader, 18+ mdni, warnings of established relationship, degradation, dumbification, edging, p in v, oral sex, praise kink, english is not my first lenguage (thank god!) any mistakes? i’m not sorry for it, feel free to hit me up with requests in my inbox to keep kinktober going! <3 also, dividers by @cafekitsune!

He’s cocky after a hunt goes the way he wants.

Dean Winchester’s always a damn headache after a sucessful solved case. He gets in this mood where he feels invincible and well, he just feels like he could win the lottery if he puts his mind into it.

Sam’s done by the time you guys are in the next town, checking into another cheap motel. The older Winchester has been a damn pain in the ass the whole ride so the first thing he does when you guys ask for separate rooms? Ditch the problem to you.

“He’s your boyfriend,” he’d say, obviously done with his sassy attitude as he left to his own private space — Sacred space he values since you appeared. “You deal with him.”

You love your boyfriend that’s for sure but after a hunt? Your muscles are sore, you feel like you’re going to get sick and on top of all? You been dying for a hot shower and bed.

Dean’s plans are way different, cause by the time Sam leaves saying he’s going to buy burgers in any open restaurant, he’s all over you. Literally.

“Why are you so needy?” you ask furrowing your brows, he’s in a good mood now that he survived a violent ghost who’s bones you had to burn, and honestly, it doesn’t make any sense: The rush of adrenaline? The near death experience? Usually he’s deep in his third dream by now, but that night? He got this grin in his face when he’s pushing you to the motel bed despite any response he could recieve—. “Dean.”

“Just want to make m’lady feel on cloud nine,” he says, planting soft kisses on the exposed skin of your neck, a fight you cannot possibly win. “Can I do that? Take care of my girl?”

Thing is, deep down, you don’t want to win any fight. Not that one at least when Dean’s pulling you to the edge of the bed, unblucking his belt as he lets the fabric of his jeans fall to the floor, he’s craving you ever since you pulled this show up in the morning when you said there was no time to shower together since the case was so important. Naked, standing in a foggy bathroom: You won’t let him have you? Not even ten minutes? Fucking unfair.

He can do a lot in ten. You do love it even when it’s rushed, when Sam’s pushing on the other side of the door screaming something about being late, his only goal is to take whatever he needs, so in ten minutes he can do plenty. He can kneel on the slippery floor, filthy thoughts as he helps you lift up your leg — “Such a pretty pussy, already dripping for me?” he would said, the sound of his voice imprinted in your memory. The warm water burns on your skin as he uses a hand to spread you open, buring his face in your cunt without a previous warning.

Even under the shower he makes you sweat. Dean’s damn skilled so he knows what spot he needs to hit to get you there, the wet sounds that fill the bathroom on random mornings — He knows you’re getting there when his digits finally fill you up in a way you can even describe, his tongue lapping over your clit, taking his time, savouring each sound he manages to get out of you, the way you say his name when he’s nose-deep in what he claims belongs to him.

And god you’re a mess. A fucking mess every single time.

“You owe me,” Dean says confident, “We solve the case, job done here. I want your full attention now.”

He has it soon after. Every ounce of it.

He’s not patient enough to play with you before like he would do in the morning, in the dirty motel you’re now at the hunter would mumble something about not giving a single fuck about preparing you cause you’re already wet enough for him, something about being already used to his size cause he’d fucked you plenty of times before, that your warm and tight cunt is already prepared for him cause you’ve been his for months, convinced that you can take him. No problem at all.

“You were such a bitch to me this morning,” he says, pushing your cheek against the matress, not caring enough about your comfort as he forces himself inside you, muffling the sounds of your moans as he places his hand on your mouth, keeping you in place—. “Do you have any idea of how hard is to concentrate on a ghost when all I can think is to have you beneath?”

He’s rough when he’s needy, straight up filthy as he lets his primal desires take over. Dean forgets about it all. His hand collides against your ass a couple of times, spanking hard enough so the skin is red to be visibly noticiable, to make you think about another pain more than the one you felt as he’s finally buried inside you.

“Atta girl” he praises, leaning to place kisses on your shoulders, giving you just enough time to adjust— “Lookin’ so pretty when full of my cock.”

He enjoys the view so much. So damn much Dean chuckles for a second, almost proud of the mess he’s done with you, always so damn tight, already clenching on his dick as you squirm desesperate to move. He got you where he wants you to be.

“Move that nice ass for me,” he says seconds after, demanding you to take him faster as he moves you at the rythm he needs—. “That’s it, fuck yourself pretty witch, work for it.”

“Dean,” you whine, the sound distant thanks to his fingers covering your mouth— “Dean-please”

“What are you begging for?” he chuckles, the sound of his laugh making your skin shiver as his hips buckle up to meet the pace you’ve been setting— “My girl is dumb for my cock already? Only a few minutes in and my baby is talking nonsense?”

He’s giving you exactly what you need, that nice pace as he grabs you by the tights, fingers buried in your skin as his movements become more erratic, desesperate as the time passes.

Dean waits. Cause he can be a cruel son of a bitch sometimes, drive you fucking mad cause he knows when’s you’re close to release, when you’re ready to cum as he slides his cock off, leaving you hollow as you loudly gasp.

“What the actual-fuck?” you ask clearly annoyed, looking over your shoulder as he offers you a sly grin—. “Dean, what the fuck?”

“We are goint to work in some manners here,” he says, grabbing you by the hair, roughly pulling your head to the side so he can look at your face while speaking—. “Cause you’re not doing to me what you did in the morning ever again. Teasing me all fucking day, acting all innocent about it. No. You’re gonna cum when I say so. And we’re gonna start all over again ‘till that big brains of yours finally gets it: No more leaving Dean Winchester all hard in the bathroom.”

next kinktober file [ art donaldson ] // masterlist

[covetyou]

tool time

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: cock worship, self imposed denial, blue balls for all, that tool belt, pet names (darlin', baby), mentions of oral sex and p in v, very brief mention of alcohol, no/pre-outbreak TLOU, no use of y/n. word count: 3k summary: He was always there to pull you both back from the brink, though you weren't sure there was any saving you this time. And it was all because of something as simple as a tool belt.

A/N: it has been one year to the day (and almost to the minute) since I published sleepless in 2023. happy anniversary to the fic that started it all. thanks to all of you for sticking with me, and thanks to Joel Miller for always being That Man.

thank you to @sp00kymulderr and a conversation months ago at this point that inspired this fic 💛

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"Y'Starin'?"

You were. From the moment he walked in, actually.

Then, from the moment he slung that thing low around his hips this morning, you knew you were done for. Four weeks of pain and struggle, all for nothing.

The best laid plans, you guess, as you grunt back at him with a shrug.

It was on you, really. You were probably setting yourself up for failure the moment you had your first grownup sleepover with one Joel Miller. Sensible people don't do that to themselves. Not when they have rules to keep to. They may have been your own rules, but that was besides the point. Rules were rules, and you never did like breaking them.

Watching Joel move and shift, his bulge in his denim framed neatly by the leather of his work belt, you had a feeling breaking this particular rule wouldn't upset you for long.

Six weeks. That was the rule. Just two painful weeks away. Six weeks, and then you'd be free from this forced celibacy you'd put yourself into. It was a test for yourself more than anything - always too eager to throw yourself into intimacy with people who didn't care and, if you were being honest, with people who you didn't care about either. You figured if you wanted different, you'd have to make it different.

You just didn't account for the first man in your life after a months long dry spell to be Joel Miller.

From the day you said those words into his mouth - six weeks, give me six weeks and I'm all yours - he'd been all in. He told you he could wait as long as you needed, and from the moment he said it you believed him. The problem was, from the moment he said it, you also wanted to fuck him about it.

But you couldn't, because that was exactly the rule you were trying to keep to. No sex for six fucking weeks.

You weren't even sure why you picked six weeks in the first place. The exact whys of it all went out of your head the moment Joel committed to your stupid, self-imposed rule without question. Those reasons why grew further from you each and every week he calmly stopped your dates from going too far with a gruff don't wanna break your rules, baby.

Even when you were forced to stay the night after one too many drinks, or when a make-out session got too heated, there he was to pull you both back from the brink.

Though, you weren't sure there was any saving you this time.

And it was all because of something as simple as a tool belt.

You'd seen him in it before. It wasn't new. It was quite old, and worn, actually. Usually you'd simply see him throw it into the back seat of his truck, or onto his counter, or over his shoulder. On one occasion you'd caught him on his knees, belt strapped around his hips as he fixed up a broken cabinet in his garage.

It did the same to you then as it did now, but this time it was staying on and not being hastily discarded with an oh shit, I'm runnin' late.

Now, he stands and shifts his hips, legs crossed at the ankle, the bulge in his denim so perfectly framed you're sure the sight will be burned into your vision for ever.

"You're doing that on purpose."

Your eyes are looking through him. Fuck knows you can't look at him. Not right now, not when two billion reasons not to break your one rule couldn't hold you back from just doing it.

"Doin' what?" he asks in a voice so innocent you almost believe him. Until he shifts once again, hips rocking in your direction, the denim bunching between his legs over his soft bulge.

"Stop it, Joel."

"Stop doin' what?"

Maybe he doesn't have a clue what he's doing to you - what he's been doing to you every day for weeks. Maybe he's oblivious, or too innocent and pure and good to know just how ravenous you're feeling for him right this moment, or maybe he's hoping he isn't seeing the way you're looking at him, ready to devour him in one, so he stands some chance of getting to work on time.

Yes, you could be strong and ignore the way his hand engulfs the coffee mug he's drinking from - strong but delicate in a way you know it to be by how he lets his fingertips dance up and down your side in the dead of the night. You could look past how his eyes flick down your body, stood stiff and still as far away from him as you can get in your tiny little kitchen. You could even ignore the way he licks the dregs of coffee from his lips, swiping his hand across his chin as his cup clinks down on the counter.

But then, those strong, delicate hands find purchase on his belt, hooking through a loop you saw him tuck a hammer into that day in his garage, and - as though you hadn't decided from the moment he put the belt on his hips - the last crumbling ruins of your resolve crash to the ground.

"Fuck it."

"Darlin', you -"

You cut him off with a kiss - striding across the kitchen to grab him by the shirt before he could even realize what was happening.

"Shut up," you breath into his mouth, silencing him more with the pressure of your lips on his than with the words on your tongue.

Joel, still trying to be a gentleman, keeps his one hand planted on the counter, the other on his belt, white knuckle gripping as he tries to keep up with your frantic kisses. You bite and nip at his lips, the fire in your belly not letting up even though you're well aware neither of you have time for this. And, though his hands are still, he kisses back with a fire to match, setting the ruins of your rules ablaze right there on the kitchen floor.

But then you're gone, and he's chasing a mouth that's no longer there.

His eyes snap open just as you slip down his body, your hands releasing from his shirt to slide down the length of his torso as you descend.

"Darlin', I -"

"Shut up, Joel," you growl again as your knees collide with the kitchen tile. It's not comfortable, and it's certainly not romantic, but it's what you need, so you'll take it.

"Your rule, baby, I don't wanna -"

"Fuck my rule, Joel."

Your eyes drop from his to the belt in front of you, then lower still to the soft lump in worn denim. You'd only been this close in your dreams - and there had been a lot of them lately. Waking up wet and sticky between your legs after a Joel sleepover was something you were now well accustomed to. While the you of your dreams could make the man come in two seconds flat some nights, the real you - the one on their knees in their kitchen - didn't have a clue what got his blood pumping and his heart racing.

You press a lingering kiss to the front of his jeans anyway. Just to see, really. Then, by the way his eyes widen, pupils blowing black in his warm eyes, and his breath hitches, you have a feeling you won't have much trouble at all finding out what makes Joel Miller tick.

You chain together another kiss, and then another, and then another, pressing your soft lips to the rough denim as you listen to his ragged breaths.

"I -"

"Shut up."

You don't want him to speak. You don't want him to be sensible, or to stop you, not when you've already waited so long. Not when his cock is right in front of you, separated by nothing but a zipper and some fabric.

You press a firmer kiss to him, breathing deeply and letting your eyes slip closed as you inhale. He always smells so clean in the mornings, but this time it's mixed with something else. The soft scent of his laundry detergent is still there, but there's the earthy smell of his leather belt, just a few inches away from your face. It smells of wood and dust and metal - the fixtures and undoubtedly a few errant screws and nails dumped into the pockets and pouches accounting for the latter. Then there's something else too, as you take another breath, groaning against the denim that you nuzzle your face into, feeling him twitch beneath your cheek.

He likes this. If the stiffening lump beneath your lips, pressed against your nose, rubbed against your cheek is anything to go by, he likes this a lot. Who could blame the man, really. He'd waited as long as you had. Four weeks for you had been four weeks for him. Four weeks of you trying to break through his resolve, to crack him so he was to blame for your broken rule and not you. Four weeks of you edging closer and closer to his waistband each time you kissed on the couch. Four weeks of your hips shifting back into his crotch every night you went to sleep.

"You smell so good, Joel," you groan into his crotch, letting your head rest against his thigh as you sink lower on your knees. Your head feels floaty on your shoulders, and you wonder if he can feel the hot warmth of your breath against his cock through his jeans.

His thighs tense beneath your palms as you steady yourself on him. You should probably slow down, you think, but no sooner is the thought in your head when your fingers are already creeping up and up to stroke across the soft leather of his belt.

You want to pull it off and pull his jeans down and finally taste him. You want to leave it on, slung around his hips as it is, holding onto it to anchor yourself to him as he slides into you. You want to feel it slapping against your ass as he fucks you, face down into the mattress screaming his name.

Instead you pull, tugging his hips closer to your face. He grunts above you, shifting his own hips again as his cock swells in his pants, undoubtedly uncomfortable in the confines of his jeans. You want to take it out - you could take it out. You could see it for the first time right now, right here. You could taste it if you wanted to. You'd imagined it enough.

But you don't.

Even through your desperation, there were things you still wanted for that first time with Joel Miller. Fantasies of the belt, and the need you had for him right now couldn't sway you from that, at least.

You'd have him stripped bare, and you would be too. Hands and mouths and tongues would explore first. And then, when the desperation got too much to bear, he'd slip into you like he'd always belonged there, sliding down to the root and burrowing himself in you.

"I don't want you to do anything you'll regret, baby," he whispers, holding your hand against his thigh, stilling you for just a second.

You could sob at how good he is, even now as you try to ruin him on your knees.

"How could I regret this," you murmur, white hot heat radiating off his cock as it throbs right beneath your chin. "Please, Joel. Fuck my rule. I don't care. I just want you."

You watch as his resolve begins to crack, shattering first in his eyes as he spares a heated glance down at you between his legs.

"Fuck."

You begin in earnest then. Your hands that were stilled go back to kneading, pawing at his thighs, reaching round to grab a handful of his ass as you press kiss after kiss to his cock, dampening the fabric of his jeans with your saliva.

"Wanted it for so long," you breath. "Need it. Fuck, Joel."

You're babbling into his crotch. You know you are. You don't care. All you care is about the wet heat between your legs and the cock in front of you, swollen and desperate as you are wet and dripping. In this moment you're made for each other, your pussy desperately clenching around nothing, as he throbs, pulsating with each kiss you press to him.

He gasps suddenly and you're pulled out of your trance, looking up at him as a wet patch blooms on the front of his jeans.

"Baby, you can't -"

"Don't you want to?" you ask breathlessly. "Don't you want to know what it's like?"

"I do - jesus fuck - I do, we just don't got the time."

You groan into his crotch. He's right. Of course he is. Still, you don't stop. He can feel your breath hot on him through the denim, you're sure of it. You want - need - him to know how much you want him. You need him to carry it with him all damn day until he's aching and desperate and ready to fuck you the moment he sees you.

He's not looking down at you the next time you cast your eyes up. Instead his head is titled skyward and his jaw is open in a soft moan you can barely hear from the blood pumping in your ears. The hand that was on his belt has joined the other, gripping the counter, twitching as if itching to grab at you when you run your teeth over the now solid mass in his pants.

"I want you," you whisper. "Wanted you for weeks."

You let your hands take over, cascading up and down his strong thighs, scraping nails down and dragging delicate finger tips up. With one more kiss to the heavy weight at the front of his jeans, you bring your hand up to cup him, palming the heat between his legs and gasping at the feel of it.

He feels so heavy, and warm, and perfect in your hand.

"Fuck," you hiss, squeezing gently at his covered cock. "Joel."

"Unngh."

He's wrecked. If his breathing and the way he can't look down at you is anything to go by, he may be past the point of no return. It sends a thrill through you, ruining your clean panties even more as the realization strikes you.

You could make him come like this.

And you shouldn't. The sensible part of you knows that. You know he doesn't have anything else to change into, and you know that time is rapidly ticking away by the ache gradually throbbing in your knees.

But, you could - and that just makes to too hard to resist.

So, you continue on, pressing kisses to his cock, wishing desperately you could cradle the heft of his balls in your hand as you took his head into your mouth. Your teeth nip at his thighs, scrape gently across the sides of his bulge. And then, your tongue slips out from between your swollen lips, and you lick gently at the precum seeping through his jeans.

You moan. Whine, really. Whimper, if you were being really honest with yourself. The rough fabric on your tongue and the bitter salt of his precum on your tongue almost have you coming right there on the kitchen floor. You quiver instead, holding it back as you spread your legs, desperate for relief that you don't have time for.

"Fuck, baby, you're gonna make me -"

The vibration of his phone in his pocket, twinned with a harsh beep, startles both of you. You look around, confused for a moment, before Joel scrambles for his back pocket.

"Tommy, hey," he says, clearing his throat. Tommy's voice booms back down the receiver. He's outside. Sorry I'm late, he says, and you could laugh if you weren't so painfully turned on and wrecked from the few minutes you'd spent on your knees acquanting yourself with Joel's cock.

"Yep. Uh-huh. Be out in a sec. Sure."

There's nothing but silence and the sound of your breathing when he hangs up. You can't bring yourself to get up any more than he can bring himself to walk away.

"We gotta get goin'," Joel finally says, hearing an impatient beep of a car horn outside.

"Tonight," you say with certainty, still on your knees. "You're fucking me tonight, Joel."

He helps you up, fingers twitching as they hold your waist. You don't have time for what you both want. Even a kiss could turn into something neither of you could pull back from now. You move to the door, together and desperate and messy in ways neither of you can say out loud, because the clock is ticking.

"Joel," you say, holding back a smile as you walk to your car. "Might wanna check the front of your pants."

He looks down, his cock still hard and uncomfortable in the confines of his jeans. He'd hoped the short walk to the door would releave some of the pressure, but it doesn't. And then he sees it - the dark bloom of wet denim, evidence of the twin effort between you and his cock to ruin his day in the best possible way.

Joel shifts his tool belt, letting it sit lopsided on his hips. You can see by the look in his eye that he wants to push you up against your car and kiss you like he means it. You can see by the way his fingers grip that loop in his tool belt once more, holding onto it for dear life, biting at his inner cheek.

"Tonight," he growls, when he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek, before stalking away to the waiting shadow of Tommy's truck.

You watch the leather of his belt slap against the full meat of his ass with every step, and you smile. Just one more day - ten more hours - and the denial would be over, the belt would be off and you'd finally, finally, get what you so desperately wanted.

Fuck your rule.

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[symbiomancy]

be aware wolf —werewolf

—summary: you venture into the woods to hunt for werewolves | 1.5k | AO3 | monster masterlist

—warnings: monster x human, monsterfucking, p in v sex, knotting, creampie, stomach bulge, mounting, outdoor sex, implied voyeurism

It’s a simple cycle. Enter the woods. Keep the local werewolf population under control. Retrieve any animal carcasses you come across in the woods. Make pelts out of said carcasses. Keep them or sell them. Receive payment from the town for your hard work. Pack your things and find the next town with a werewolf problem.

There are quite a few steps, but it’s a simple, straightforward cycle.

You sling your shotgun onto your back and place a hand onto the handgun at your hip. Your other hand rests on the belt of silver bullets around your hips. The ground is dry and this place hasn’t seen rain in weeks. There are no tracks to go off so you settle for scouting tufts of fur.

Something catches in the corner of your eye as you step around a grand oak.

You whip your head to the side and meet the pair of yellow eyes from the distance. It’s late August, and the blessing of the summer solstice only lasts so long. The sun is long gone and the full moon has crested. Darkness creeps around you, the tall trees shielding you from the moon’s glow. A cool breeze caresses your bare arms. You can just about make out the creature’s outline in the shadows. It’s large, maybe about 6 feet tall.

Slowly, you slip the shotgun from your shoulder and raise the barrel in the wolf’s direction. You whistle.

“Here boy,” you call. The pair of eyes blink at you languidly. “C’mere. I got treats for ya.” Indeed, you do; an opened pack of beef jerky in your back pocket. “C’mon, I have a whole pack of you to hunt tonight and I like to be efficient with my time.”

The werewolf rises onto its hind legs. Oh, great, you think, there’s different species in the same genus for these fucks. Perhaps 8 feet tall is more accurate.

You adjust your hold and cock the shotgun.

The werewolf is gone in a blink.

Your pulse picks up and you whirl on your heel, shotgun still raised. These things are fast, always are but they’re also big. How hard is it to shoot one?

The sound of a branch breaking has you whirling around, finger on the trigger to take the shot —

A claw strikes out at you and catches on your belt, ripping it like it’s paper. Your belt and the bullets in their holster disappear from your waist, your pants ripped and a superficial gash in your hip. You lose your footing on a protruding root and fall onto your back, barely keeping your head from slamming against a thick root.

The werewolf drops onto all fours legs, standing over you, its front paws planted on either side of your head. Its warm breath fans against your face, your arms. Its teeth are bared. Saliva dribbles from its maw.

You spare a glance away from its face to assess your situation — maybe there’s a way to roll out from underneath it and scramble towards your shotgun, wherever it landed. Instead, you find yourself staring at its bulbous member, fully erect. It’s long and thick, precum glistening on its tip. You look away, heat flooding to your cheeks and cunt. In your defense, it looked at you first.

You slowly draw your foot back and strike out, hit the beast’s hind leg. It howls in pain and you scramble out from underneath it, roll onto your stomach and stumble upright. Your shotgun is just a few steps to the right.

A heavy weight slams into you from behind and sends you onto the ground. Your jaw collides with the ground and your teeth snap together. You groan, rest your weight on one elbow and place your free hand against your jaw, pressing against the sore muscles. Hot breath fans the back of your exposed neck and something heavy and slick presses against the flesh of your hip. U kick again and scramble forward, your gun just about in reach. Claws swipe at ur body, snag on your shirt and tatter ur barely intact pants.

The cool night air hits your throbbing cunt. You try to ignore it, want to ignore it so bad, to finish the job and go take care of yourself — the werewolf shoves its fanged snout against the back of your neck. You still, heart leaping in your chest. Its heavy member rests on the swell of your ass, hips rocking back and forth, shallow thrusts as if it’s looking for a warm hole. Your pussy clenches at the thought.

It finds that warm hole, pressing its cock against your entrance, just barely breaching it, and you groan. It’s not going to fit but damned if the beast won’t try to make it fit. Maybe it will fit. The wolf grabs your waist — fuck, it’s hand is big enough to nearly wrap around your entire torso — and jerks its hips forward. You gasp as it pushes in all at once, filling you so completely, so deliciously that you nearly see stars. It’s so big and thick, you swear you can feel every vein and ridge of it.

The wolf snarls, beads of saliva dripping onto the back of your neck and thrusts forward shallowly. You struggle onto your knees. It pulls out shallowly and thrusts back in until the bulb at the bottom of its shaft nudges against your pussy.

Heat pools in your stomach as the werewolf drags its cock in and out of your hot cunt. The ridges and veins of his cock feel like bliss, have you gasping for air. Its furry hips connect with yours, the sound of your bodies colliding muffled by his coat. But you’re so wet, every thrust into your sopping cunt is nothing but a wet squelch. It thrusts in without resistance, going in all the way and pulling out with ease. It pushes so deep into you, drags against your walls like nobody ever has. Your thighs are wet, almost shaking at the strain of holding yourself up on all fours.

Your hand slips out from underneath you and your shoulder collides with the ground. The werewolf presses forward — it mounts you, places a clawed hand next to your head for balance and drives in with newfound vigor. The tip of its cock hit so deep in you that you nearly see stars, try to blabber something, something incoherent between ‘no’ and ‘yes’ and ‘more’ and ‘please please please please’. The wolf pistons in and out of our shopping cunt. Its tongue lolls out of its mouth, slobbers onto the back of your neck. The bulb at his crotch nudges against our opening with every thrust and dives slightly in each time. It’s wide and big and you gasp a pitiful sound when it slips into you with a painful stretch. It’s too much and too little at the same time. You try to clench around it.

The werewolf pauses and you want to cry out, beg it to keep going, to bully its way into your pussy until you can take its knot. You’re so full, so full, this thing is everywhere, in your pussy, in your guts, in the back of your throat. All you can manage is a pitiful croak before the beast is back on you again, resting its weight on your back. It picks up the pace, ruthlessly pistoning into you, bullying your throbbing, leaking pussy, rutting his bulb against it, almost stuffing it inside. It places one large clawed hand onto your thigh and pulls it to the side like that will give it more room. Perhaps it does but the stretch of your cunt and your thighs is too overwhelming to not focus on.

You press back against him as much as u can from your contorted position, meet his hips with urs in a frantic attempt to get your release. Your chest heaves as you attempt to match his pace, pressure building in the pit of your stomach. You’re babbling now, you absolutely are, begging for it to push you over the edge and stuff you full. It speeds up as if it understands you, pressing its weight on top you. Your cheek scrapes against the ground and in the corner of your eye, you can make out the bulge in your stomach as the werewolf thrusts in. It’s too much, too good, too deep, rubbing against that spot, knocking the breath from your lungs with every thrust.

You come with a wail, pussy throbbing and clenching around its cock, sucking it back in to keep it there. The wolf howls, head thrown back and buries its knot inside you. Its cock spasms and spills into you. Rope after rope of hot cum coasts your insides until you’re full, and then some. You feel it slide down your thighs, dribble from your pussy. You try to adjust yourself to get a look and clench involuntarily around the beast when you spot the shape of his cock protruding from your stomach.

The cool night air feels pleasant against your heated skin.

You look away from the unholy sight buried in your guts and let your eyes unfocus to bask in your post-orgasmic bliss.

One, two, three, four —

There are at least four pairs of yellow eyes observing you from the darkness.

note: I'm open to hearing about dead batteries!! be as graphic or non-graphic as you'd like:)

banner & divider by @/cafekitsune

[serendipitylily]

Just A Ride pt. 2

Logan Howlett x fem!reader x Scott Summers

Summary: Scott decides to share with Logan.

Warnings: nsfw, smut, threesome, oral (m. receiving), p in v, motorcycle sex?, no use of y/n, not proofread

word count: 1.3k

Part one here!

“What the fuck?” Scott’s voice boomed through the hanger, the door slamming shut behind him. He stood frozen for a moment, his chest heaving hard. You felt a sinking sense of dread in the pit of your stomach. 

Scott's eyes were hidden under his crimson shades, but you knew they were staring daggers at you.

Logan slipped his hand out from your jeans, his other hand still remaining on your hip. Logan, who was always quick with an insult, stayed silent with his eyes narrowed at Scott.

"Is this what you want?" He asked, his hands balled up into fists.

“Scott…” you whispered, the word barely escaping your lips, your heart hammering in your chest. You were caught off guard by his demeanor, a determination in him that you hadn't seen.

Scott reached you in his stride, his hand moving to grip your waists. Logan pulled back, slightly surprising him—surprising you both.

His lips crashed against yours, kissing you with a fever you had never felt from him before. It was as if he was trying to reclaim you, to remind you of who you belonged to. You felt yourself melting into the familiar but rough touch. You felt a thrill, an excitement in the way Scott was touching you.

He pulled away, his breath ragged as he turned his head to look at Logan. "You think you can take her away from me?" He asked, his voice a low grumble.

Logan raised his eyebrow at the challenge, "Maybe I don't have to" he smirked. "Maybe she wants us both" he got up from the bike to stand next to Scott.

The implications of his words sent a shock through you. You had never imagined Scott being willing to share you; especially with Logan.

Scott's gaze turned back to you, "Is that what you want?" He asked, his hand moving to cup your face. You looked between the two men who were now standing in front of you, their eyes hungry.

With a shaky breath, you nodded, the words barely a whisper. "I want you both."

Without another words Scott pulled you up from the seat into a fierce and demanding kiss. "If you're going to touch her, do it right."

Logan laughed at his words, "Don't think she had any problem with the way I was touching her bub." He moved behind you, his hands gripping your waist to press against his growing bulge.

Scott ignored him, his hands now snaking your shirt up to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. Your breath hitched as you were sandwiched between the two of them, their bodies pressing against you in a heated battle of control.

“Please…” you whimpered, your voice trembling with intensity. “I need… I need…”

"Shh baby, I know. I'll take care of you," Scott whispered into the skin of your neck. He moved you over to the bike, pressing your stomach to the seat as he bent you over it.

The feeling of the cool leather against your heated skin sent a shiver through your body.

Scott was positioned behind you, his hands resting possessively on your hips, and Logan in front of you, his intense gaze locked on yours.

"Come on bub, let's give the girl what she wants," Logan said, his voice low and husky. He looked down at you, "You want us both, don't you princess? You want to feel our hands all over you, our cocks inside you?"

You nodded, your breath coming out in short gasps. "Yes," you whispered. "Please, I need you both."

Logan smirked, stepping closer and moving to unbuckle his belt. You could feel Scott behind you, tugging down your pants to reveal your soaked panties.

"Spread your legs baby" Scott purred, his palm pushing your thighs apart. You heard a small moan fall from his lips as he pulled your panties to the side.

You gasped when his finger teased your hole before delving inside, his other arm wrapped around your waist to circle your clit.

Logan couldn't wait any longer and growled as he tugged his jeans down, his girthy cock springing out of its confines. He put his hand on the back of your head, pushing your face against it. "Let me feel that pretty mouth around my cock."

You obeyed immediately, parting your lips and letting him push into your mouth. The feeling of his thick cock sliding into your throat mixed with Scott's fingers thrusting slowly in and out of you sent a wave of pleasure through you.

Scott's fingers curled, hitting that perfect spot that made your knees buckle. He was relentless, his other hand still rubbing your aching clit. Your moans of ecstasy were muffled by Logan's cock.

He moved his fingers out of you, whining at the loss of contact. You were quickly silenced when you felt his cock rubbing against your slick folds.

With a firm grip on your hips, Scott finally pushed into you, his cock stretching you in a way that was both familiar and new. "Fuck baby," he moaned as he completely sheathed himself inside you, .his hips moving in a slow, steady rhythm, his cock feeling the tightness of your pussy.

Logan groaned, feeling your throat tense around his cock. You squeezed your eyes shut, each thrust from Scott driving you forward onto Logan, who grunted with each deep push into your throat.

“Fuck, she’s so wet,” Scott murmured from behind you. 

“Such a good girl,” Logan praised, his voice rough with arousal as he watched you, his free hand moving to cup your breast, his fingers pinching your sensitive nipple. “Taking us both like this.”

Scott, feeling your body tense, increased his pace, his thrusts becoming harder and faster. "You like that, baby? You like having both of us inside you?"

Logan felt his cock twitch in your hot mouth, your throat working around his hard length, his balls slapping against your chin. You were trying your best not to gag as his tip brushed the back of your throat. 

You felt his hand grip your hair, tugging on it hard. Your eyes screwed shut, a whimper leaving your lips as you gripped Logan’s thighs for support. 

“Shh baby you can take it” Scott told you, leaning over you and leaving kisses down your spine as he thrusts into you. 

“She’s fine Summers” Logan growled, “don’t pretend she doesn’t like it a little rough.” He was staring down at you, reveling in the sight of your mouth filled with his cock. 

Scott’s grip on your hips tightened slightly in response, his breath hot against your ear as he leaned down to kiss the side of your neck, his lips trailing down to your shoulder. 

He could feel your walls pulsating around his cock, a signal you were reaching your peak. “She’s close,” Scott murmured, his voice low. 

“Is that right darlin’?” Logan growled, “you gonna come for us?” All you could do in groan around his cock in affirmation. 

Your body was on fire, your body feeling every sensation with a new intensity. Logan pulled out of your mouth, stroking himself vigorously as he watched your face contorted in pleasure. 

Scott’s fingers continued to massage and pinch your clit, pushing you to the brink. Your back arched, a guttural moan leaving your throat. The orgasm waved through you as if there was an explosion inside you.

Logan grunted, “come here” he demanded, shoving his cock in your throat. He didn’t give you a chance to recover, both his hands pushed the back of your head, using your mouth to chase his releases. 

“Fuck” He cursed, his hips pistoning himself in and out of your mouth. It wasn’t long until you felt his seed shoot down your throat. You quickly

Scott pulled out of you, his cock leaving a trail of cum between your thighs. He leaned over you, kissing the side of your neck.

"You did great." His hands lingered on your hips. 

Logan smirked, wiping a stray tear from the corner of your eye with a rough thumb, then planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

You took a shaky breath, feeling a wave of contentment wash over you. "You okay?" Scott asked.

You nodded, smiling faintly. "More than okay."

So sorry this took so long! Classes just started for me so i've been busy hehe :3 Tags: @junnniiieee07 @edenoir @starlightszzs @bontensbabygirl @twinky-wink @journal3sposts @pwpwppeepeoor @izzy-stradlin-1991

[gh0stsp1d3r]

hii not sure if your taking requests but maybe luke castellan x reader being enemies and luke gets jealous and fucks her?

A/n: I’d love to! I’m so sorry this is short, I lowkey had no clue what to do so I’m sorry ):

Warnings: p in v, enemies to luvers hehe, strong language.

MASTERLIST

“Luke, what the fuck is your problem?” You snapped, shoving his hand off of your arm. His grip had left a mark, you glanced down at it before looking back at him.

“Why were you all up on him?” He asked you.

“Uh, because I can be…?” You scoffed. “Why the fuck do you even care?”

He slammed his lips against yours, your eyes widening in confusion. But it was like it was natural when your lips moved against his, your eyes shutting and your hands moving to the back of his head. His hands roamed your back, before going to your front and shoving you back onto the bed behind you.

His lips were quickly back on yours as he hovered over you, hands working at his belt underneath him. He shoved his pants off, throwing them to the ground. He took your pants off before ripping off your panties.

You looked down. “Luke! What the fuck?!”

“I’ll buy you new ones.” He rolled his eyes at you, already lining his cock up with your soaked hole.

“You’re so fucking infuriating.” You groaned out as he pushed inside of you, your nails digging into his back.

“That’s not what your pussies saying.” He murmured, feeling your walls clench down on his length, a smirk on his face as he looked down at your face.

[chuuyasheaven]

“ ➸ Nothing matches your touch !! ”

SCENARIO. Chuuya was on a week long mission, and you missed him and his touch very dearly. You tried to wait for him but couldn’t, even hearing his voice through the other end of the line was turning you on. You tried touching yourself but he does it the best, so once he’s back, he gonna make up for those touches you were longing for.

TAGS. C. NAKAHARA / FEM! READER, husband! Chuuya, wife! Reader, pet names, masturbation mentioned, eating out, p in v, praise, overstimulation, slight teasing?, they are fucking but making love at the same time (if it makes sense), short probably, grammar, etc.

NOTES. This was started on the morning of my math final, idk when I’ll finish it (I FINISHED IT ON SATURDAY!!’) .. enjoy! And were are JUMPING into the story :3

Your fingers were running through his ginger locks as he grabbed onto your waist, never letting you go while his lips were on yours. It’s been only a week but it felt like several weeks going by slowly. Chuuya couldn’t admit how much he missed you, how much he missed your touch on his body. But you had no problem to, you were telling him that as soon as he went through that door.

“Missed me that much, sweetheart?”, he asked in a teasing tone as he placed you on the bed. He knew you did, way more than he probably did. You nodded as you leaned back, waiting for his next move. Chuuya got his knee between your thighs when he also got on the bed, hovering over you with a smirk. “Want me to make up for every night I wasn’t here?”, Chuuya didn’t really give you a chance to answer that, he simply just kissed you again, god how much he missed those soft lips of yours. When he pulled away once more, he shoved his knee against your cunt slightly, you let out a strained whimper at that. “Fuck, you’re probably wet right now, aren’t you?”, you nodded desperately, getting more worked up as more time passed. “Please, Chuuya, I missed you.”, the lust in your voice made his dick twitch in his pants. “Don’t worry, I got you, baby.”, he cooed.

The shorts you were wearing gave him easy access to remove them quickly along your panties. “Did you try to touch yourself while I was gone, doll?”, you nodded slowly, waiting for him to finally touch your wet cunt. “It didn’t feel as good as you do.”, Chuuya placed a quick kiss on your lips before slowly going lower to sit between your thighs. “Yeah?”, you nodded again as you felt Chuuya caressing your thighs while spreading them to get closer to your cunt. “Can’t wait to taste you again.”, he admitted with slight excitement, digging into your cunt immediately. Once he started to eat you out, your head threw itself back in pleasure. Chuuya ate you out like a starved man, god, he didn’t know how he survived so long without tasing you for about a week. Your fingers found themselves tangled up in Chuuya’s red locks again, unintentionally pushing him in deeper. His hands found themselves on your thighs and held onto them for more stability. “Ah– Chuuya, I’m close!”, you moaned out, this only made him eat you out sloppier, his tongue knowing which places to hit to make you see stars. Your thighs began to slightly shake, the knot in your gut was close to snapping, and Chuuya kept on giving you more pleasure until you cum undone on his tongue. “Fuck, c’mon, cum on my tongue, doll. Let me taste you more.”, his words rather muffled as he was still between your thighs, still very close to your cunt. The vibrations from his words sent you over the edge, making you cum almost instantly. When Chuuya got back up from between your legs, he was smirking, licking up any of your essence that was trying to escape. “Good girl,”, he praised you, walking towards you slowly while undoing his belt. “Ready for the rest? Or are you already tired?”, Chuuya knew the answer to that one, and his guess was confirmed when you gave him a short response on it. “N–no. Please, I need you so bad.”, all he could do was chuckle low as he was staring down at you, his cock hard and excited. “Yeah? You need me this bad, sweetheart?”, Chuuya bent halfway down to get close to your face, stroking his cock slowly before lining it up. “Want me to fuck you as good as I can, hm? You want me to make you scream my name as loud as you can?”, Chuuya whispered against your lips as his tip was teasing your now sensitive cunt while he was talking dirty to you, slowly letting it drag itself up and down your folds. His teasing got you even wetter than before, you were whimpering from the stimulation he was putting you through. “Chuuya. . please.”, you begged him in a desperate whisper, making him smirk.

“Please what, baby? Can’t wait any longer?”, you shook your head, he chuckled low once again, pressing his tip on your cunt, not pushing it in just yet. “So desperate f’me. . I can feel how wet you are, baby. Who am I to make you wait any longer?”, and with that, he pushed himself in slowly, capturing your lips into a kiss quickly before cursing under his breath. “Shit, you’re so fuckin’ tight for me, you might squeeze me dry, doll.”, Chuuya started to move, starting off slow so you would get used to the feeling. Soon enough, he started to get faster, chasing after your orgasms. You had to grip the sheets from how fast he was getting, his tip continuously hitting your sweet spot. God, you might never get over how big he actually is. “You’re doin’ so good, princess.”, he praises in between grunts and thrusts, his grip on your waist tightening. All you managed to do was to scream out his name in between moans, locking your legs around his waist to get a better angle. It didn’t take long for you to feel your second climax nearing itself, clenching down on his cock at least twice. “Chuuya!”, was all you managed to say that wasn’t slurred. Chuuya, on the other hand, was grunting from all this, he wasn’t able to fuck you this good for a week! His cock started to twitch inside your overstimulated cunt, letting him know that he was growing close too. “Chuuya, g–gonna cum!”, you warned him again, Chuuya was speeding up even more. “Can you hold on f’me, princess? Promise I’ll make this fast.”, you nodded, trying your best to wait for him. After a couple of fast thrusts, which hit your sweet spot way too good, he felt himself starting to cum. “Cum, sweetheart! Fuckin’ cum for me.”, his cock was twitching inside you again as you finally came over it. While Chuuya was emptying his load into you, the last couple of curses fell under his breath. “Fuh–huck. .”, your tight grip on the sheets got loose again, both of your chests falling up and down from breathing heavily after the session you both had.

“ You did so good for me, baby. Let’s just stay like this for a little, yeah? ” ♥

[viperify]

Smutmas 2024 | ᴍᴀᴛᴛʜᴇᴏ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ X ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Cool Down.

Short summary: After having spent a night in a cabin up the mountains with your boyfriend, you find yourself stuck the next morning with a massive amount of snow blocking your way. When Mattheo’s finally had enough of your complaints, he finds a way to get you to calm down.

Warnings: 18+ only! temperature play, impact play, unprotected p in v, slight degradation, slight brat taming??

A/N: based on this request by @jolly4holly. I know it’s a little different, I hope it’s still alright tho!! 💜

wordcount: 1,5k

It was supposed to be a short trip – two days only. A surprise from your boyfriend to take your mind off your upcoming exams for a while, as he knew just how stressed you were. It had been such a great day, exploring the area and then finally falling asleep cuddled up with him near the chimney, which radiated a pleasant warmth throughout the tiny room.

As your eyes fluttered open the next morning, waking up from probably the best, most carefree night‘s rest you have had in a long time, the cabin was almost entirely dark. The fire had gone out over the course of the night, only a dim light from the windows illuminating your shared cabin. You were sure it must be morning already, so you got up and opened the front door slightly. Instead of sunshine, a thick layer of snow greeted you, cutting you both off from the outside entirely.

It’s been three days since, with the snow only melting bit by bit each day. You have increasingly grown more nervous and there wasn’t much Mattheo could do to calm you down. He has been trying everything to reassure you, but with your exams so soon, and you not having studied yet, nothing could possibly help.

The snow level had gone down enough that you could now at least leave the cabin, up to where Mattheo and you had cleared most of the snow. You had been pacing around the tiny room, rambling all day about your studies, how tired you are of being stuck up here and what not. He’d been listening to it, just like the days before, until he had finally had enough of your antics and led you outside.

He currently has you kneeling just outside the cabin, the biting cold spreading through your body, sending shivers down your spine as you inhale a shaky breath. This is Mattheo’s way of getting you to listen to him, always “solving” your problems in his own, unique way. The clang of his belt dropping to the floor with a thud has your head turn to face him, your lips turning into a pout.

“Please Mattheo, it’s cold!”

“Well, no shit. You are kneeling on snow.” he scoffs, casting a charm on himself to keep warm before he gets down behind you, the snow crunching under his weight. “That’s what bitching around the entire day gets you. Always need me to fuck that damn attitude out of you.”

“But-“ you try to protest, though his palm coming down on the flesh of your ass cuts you off with a gasp. “You have complained enough. It’s time out for that bratty mouth of yours.”

One of his hands covers your mouth, the other reaching between the both of you to guide his tip between your already slick folds, collecting some of your arousal before he nudges at your entrance. Mattheo then steadily sinks his length into your anticipating cunt, a low groan falling over his parted lips as he does so, your warm walls a welcoming contrast to the freezing temperature outside. “Fuckkk. Complaining it’s cold, yet your pussy is fuckin’ radiating warmth. Wish you could feel that now, huh?” he taunts you, and although you aren’t able to see his expression, you can hear the stupid grin he is wearing while he says it.

Mattheo’s hand leaves your mouth hastily, both sets of his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips instead. He then slowly, agonizingly so, drags his cock out of your pulsating heat, making sure you feel every single inch of his length before he slams back inside of you.

He sets a steady rhythm, your combined moans and the sound of your skin smacking against his fill your otherwise tranquil surroundings. You struggle against the cold, tiny clouds forming in the crisp winter air each time you breathe, your fingers tingling from the lack of blood circulating through them.

A shriek escapes your lips as a splash of water lands on your bare skin, wandering down your back until Mattheo wipes it away, stilling his movements. “You just squeezed me so fucking tight. Icy water making you feel good now?” the brunette mocks, reaching beside him as you hear the crunch of snow. Before you can react, a shockingly cold sensation forms on your lower back and you lurch forward, though quickly stopped by your boyfriend.

“Mattheo! What the-“ you hiss, and although you shiver in response, it oddly intensifies the feeling of him inside of you. Again, he grabs some snow and trails it over your neck and shoulders, following the damp path with his tongue. “Mhm. I knew you would love this, filthy girl. Can’t deny it when all I feel is your pussy begging for more.”

You open your mouth to argue, which finally is the last straw for the embodiment of impatience behind you. “Givin’ me no other choice now. Always need something in your mouth to stop whining.” he hisses through gritted teeth, the sound of cracking ice reaching your ears. “Open your mouth and keep it there. If you dare complain again before I am done with you, it’s not only your knees that will be sore tomorrow.”

Mattheo brings something frozen to your mouth, something you make out to be an icicle. As you try to protest, his fingers firmly wrap around your hair, pulling your head back to rest on his shoulder. You innocently look up, meeting his sharp expression, eyebrows raised expectantly. “Okay, okay!” you finally give in, and he lets you go, pushing you forward again. “I thought so.”

Reluctantly, you wrap your lips around the frozen spear, holding it up sideways like he instructed you to. Your whines are muffled and he doesn’t waste another second before he thrusts up into your warm cunt once more, having you almost drop the provisional gag as you gasp in surprise.

“Knew she would love this. Dripping all over me, makin’ a fuckin’ mess on my cock.”  Mattheo growls as he pounds into your pulsating, wet walls wrapped snugly around him, your mixed arousal evident on both of you. You have always loved how vocal Mattheo gets when he is close to his release, groaning and whimpering as he hits your cervix with every single thrust, his tight grip on your hips surely leaving bruises you’d be able to see for days to come.

“Fuck- just like that, don’t stop!” you cry out best you can as he brushes against that sensitive, spongey spot inside of you, your cunt greedily clenching around your boyfriend’s swollen length in return. “So- fucking- impossibly- tight.” he gasps loudly, punctuating his words with particularly rough thrusts.

His palm repeatedly comes down on the plush curve of your ass, each strike sending a sharp, blissful sting straight to your core. “Coming, baby. Fuck-“ he exclaims, collecting your hair in a messy ponytail just to push you forward into the snow, his hips slamming against yours as he hovers over you.

In the meanwhile, the icicle has slipped from your lips, and you whimper as the last bit of warmth leaves your body when it touches the freezing cold snow. It doesn’t take long until all the sensations you are feeling become too much, having you tumble over the edge with a cry. Mattheo’s breaths become ragged and hot against your neck, as a low, guttural groan slips from his parted lips. He soon too finds his release, painting your velvety walls with thick ropes of his white cum.

Mattheo pants heavily, lowering himself to rest on top of you to catch his breath, placing soft kisses on your shoulder. You were quite certain that any second longer of this would turn you into an icicle yourself.

“Mattheo. Could you-“

“Oh shit, baby wait,“ he says, pulling out of you and getting up instantly, dragging you with him. His eyes hurriedly travel up and down your form to check if you were alright as you stand before him. “You okay? Wasn’t too much?” he asks, voice laced with worry.

You shake your head, grinning. “It was perfect.”

Immediate relief floods the brunette’s face, a sly smirk forming on his lips as he pulls you into a tight embrace, praising you for how well you did for him. With a flick of his wand, he casts a drying spell on you before getting you back inside the cabin to warm up.

Mattheo wraps a blanket around your shivering form, guiding you towards the fireplace he had already lit beforehand. Your head rests on top of his shoulder as he helps you get warm, gently stroking your back and pressing a kiss to your forehead. Then, you two are silent for a few minutes, enjoying each other’s company before he turns his head toward you slightly, his brown eyes meeting yours, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.

“Just needed me to fill this pretty pussy up to get you to calm down, huh?”

“Mattheo!”

thank u sm for ur help @leona-hawthorne 💜💜

[m4rv3l-girl]

Bucky and reader are FWB because bucky is scared to commit and reader has feelings for bucky but doesn't tell him so reader finds other ways to push them feelings away and because reader isn't really talking to bucky he steals readers phone to catch readers attention and the phone pings and a message from john walker comes through and bucky clicks on it and sees the pictures of reader in a lingerie set he gets jealous and asks her why she is sending those pictures to John walker and reader replies why you jealous? Not like I'm yours and bucky pins reader to the wall and says "doll you're mine" gives reader the best night of her life and in the morning deletes John's number from her phone

Yours, Only

Bucky x Y/N

Warnings: smut. Unprotected p in v sex. Slight angst.

The tension in the air between Bucky Barnes and Y/N had become a living, breathing thing. It was the kind of dynamic that friends didn’t typically have—heated stares, lingering touches, and shared nights where boundaries blurred. Friends with benefits, they called it, but to Y/N, it felt like so much more. To Bucky, however, it seemed to be just enough.

It had been fine at first, thrilling even. But the more time they spent together, the more her heart yearned for something more substantial. The way he made her laugh with his dry humor, the quiet moments they shared after their escapades—those were the moments Y/N cherished the most.

But Bucky was a man weighed down by his past, and commitment wasn’t something he thought he could offer. So Y/N bottled her feelings, afraid of losing him entirely. The problem was, bottling up emotions had its consequences.

🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇

Recently, Y/N had been pulling back. She still showed up for missions, worked alongside the team, and exchanged casual conversations with Bucky. But the teasing texts had slowed, the playful touches became distant, and their "arrangements" ceased altogether. Bucky noticed.

It started as a gnawing irritation that grew with each day she kept him at arm’s length. He tried to play it cool—he wasn’t her boyfriend, after all—but he couldn’t stop the pang of frustration when he caught her smiling at someone else or, worse, leaving the room the second he entered.

“What’s going on with you?” he asked one night when they crossed paths in the common room.

“Nothing, Barnes,” she replied coolly, not even glancing up from her phone. The way she called him "Barnes" stung more than it should have.

His blue eyes narrowed, but he didn’t push her. Instead, he let her retreat—again.

🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆

Bucky was never one to snoop, but desperate times called for desperate measures. When Y/N left her phone on the table after a team briefing, he made his move. Sam had stepped out to grab lunch, Steve was busy with paperwork, and Natasha had raised an eyebrow but let him be.

Grabbing the phone, he flipped it open to the lock screen. A swipe revealed no password, a fact that made him smirk. "Careless," he muttered under his breath.

A soft chime pinged from the phone. Glancing down, his smirk faltered. A message from John Walker flashed across the screen, accompanied by a photo preview that made his jaw tighten.

Y/N, in a lingerie set, her curves accentuated perfectly by the sheer material. It was undeniably alluring—and it sent a surge of possessive anger through him. The scarlet lingerie a fiery halo around her form. The plunge of the bra, a daring invitation, reveals the swells of her breasts, their softness seemingly begging to be touched. The fabric clings to her body like a second skin, tracing the contours of her waist and hips in a sensual dance of shadow and light. Her legs, elegantly placed, stretch out before her, the garter belt a playful accent that speaks to the promise of what lies beneath the matching thong. Her stockings, sheer and whisper-thin, are held up by those garters, hinting at the act of peeling them away layer by layer.

Bucky clicked on the message without hesitation.

🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠

When Y/N came looking for her phone an hour later, Bucky was waiting in the training room, leaning against the wall with an expression she couldn’t quite read.

“Have you seen my phone?” she asked, scanning the area.

He held it up between his fingers, his grip firm. “Looking for this?”

“Yeah, thanks,” she replied, reaching for it. But Bucky didn’t let go. Instead, he tilted his head and fixed her with a sharp gaze.

“Mind telling me why Walker has pictures of you like this?” he growled, flipping the phone to show her the image.

Y/N froze, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. “You went through my phone?”

“You left it unlocked,” he shot back. “Don’t change the subject.”

“Why do you care, Barnes?” she snapped, crossing her arms defensively. “It’s none of your business.”

“None of my business?” His voice lowered dangerously. “You think I’m just going to let this slide?”

Y/N’s chest tightened as anger flared within her. “Let what slide? It’s not like I’m yours, Bucky.”

The words hit their mark, and for a moment, she saw something flicker in his eyes—something raw and unguarded. Then, faster than she could react, he closed the distance between them, pinning her against the wall.

“Doll,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

“You’ve always been mine.”

His declaration left her breathless, her heart hammering against her ribs. She searched his face for any sign that he was joking, but all she found was unwavering certainty.

“Bucky,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

smut————smut———smut———smut————-smut————smut

He didn’t let her finish. His lips captured hers with a fervor that left no room for doubt. The pent-up tension between them exploded in a kiss that was both demanding and tender, a mix of frustration and longing.

Their bodies pressed together as if trying to erase the space that had grown between them. His hands slid to her hips, gripping her tightly, while hers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss grew more intense with each passing second, their tongues dancing a passionate ballet of desire. Y/N could feel the warmth of his breath, tasting the mint on his lips.

Breaking the kiss, Bucky searched her eyes. “I can’t keep pretending this isn’t more, Y/N. It’s killing me.”

Her eyes searched his, a silent question hanging in the air. Was this a confession? Or a declaration of his own feelings? She didn’t know, but she felt something shift inside her—a hope she’d been too scared to acknowledge.

“What do you want from me, Bucky?” she asked, her voice trembling.

He took a deep, ragged breath. “Everything,” he whispered, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. “But I don’t know if I deserve it.”

The honesty in his voice broke down the final barriers she’d built around her heart. Tears welled in her eyes as she placed a hand over his, holding it in place. “You do. More than you know.”

With a growl of need, Bucky’s hands moved to her ass, lifting her so that she was forced to wrap her legs around his waist. He grinded into her, the friction between them setting her nerves alight. Y/N gasped, her core clenching at the delicious pressure. She’d missed this, missed him, missed the way he made her feel—like she was the most important person in the world to him.

“Prove you want it,” she challenged, her voice thick with desire.

Bucky didn’t waste any time. He carried her out of the training room and down the hallway, ignoring the surprised looks from passing agents. His movements were swift, yet gentle, driven by an urgency that matched the pounding of his heart.

Reaching her apartment, he kicked the door open, setting her down just long enough to lock it behind them. Then, without breaking their heated gaze, he scooped her up again, walking her backwards until the backs of her legs hit the bed.

He laid her down, his body hovering above hers. The weight of his gaze was heavy, filled with a hunger that made her pulse race. Y/N could feel his erection pressing against her through their clothes, a silent testament to his need for her. She reached for his belt, but Bucky stopped her, his hand capturing hers.

“Let me,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving hers as he unbuttoned her shirt. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if savoring every inch of skin revealed. He pushed the fabric aside, exposing her bra-covered breasts to the cool air. His breath hitched, and for a moment, he just stared, his pupils dilated with desire.

With a gentle tug, he removed her bra, revealing her hardened nipples to his view. He leaned down, brushing his lips against them, and she arched her back with a moan. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through her, making her ache for more. Bucky’s touch was reverent, almost as if he were afraid she’d vanish if he applied too much pressure.

Her hands found his shoulders, urging him closer. The fabric of his shirt was rough against her palms as she slid them down his back, feeling the taut muscles beneath. His skin was warm to the touch, and she craved the feel of him against her, bare and unyielding.

With a sudden surge of strength, she flipped their positions, straddling him. Her eyes searched his, looking for any sign of protest. Finding none, she began to kiss him again, her hands moving to unbuckle his belt. Bucky’s breath hitched, and he wrapped his arms around her, his hands sliding up her back, urging her closer.

The sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor was like a gunshot in the quiet room. His shirt was next, tossed aside with a growl. His skin was a canvas of scars and muscles, a testament to the battles he’d survived. Y/N kissed each one, her mouth tracing the path of his pain. His chest heaved under her touch, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Take me, Bucky,” she whispered, her voice thick with need.

He didn’t need any more encouragement. His hands found the hem of her pants, and with a swift move, he had her bare before him. The heat in his gaze was almost tangible as he took in the sight of her, his eyes darkening with desire.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, his voice hoarse.

Y/N felt a thrill at his words, a warmth that spread through her body like wildfire. She leaned down, capturing his mouth in another kiss, her hips moving against his erection.

Bucky’s hands gripped her ass, urging her closer. His thumbs traced the lines of her panties, and she moaned into his mouth. With a sudden, surprising tenderness, he hooked his fingers into the waistband and slid them down her legs, leaving her completely exposed.

He took a moment to drink in the sight of her, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. Then, with a gentle push, he had her lying beneath him again, his body aligning with hers. The head of his cock nudged against her, and she spread her legs wider, silently begging for him to fill her.

With one swift thrust, he was inside her, the sensation so intense she saw stars. They moved together, their rhythm natural and unspoken, as if their bodies had known each other for lifetimes. The friction between them was exquisite, a symphony of pleasure that grew louder with each passing moment.

Their kisses grew deeper, more urgent, as their bodies tangled together. Y/N’s nails dug into Bucky’s back, her legs wrapping around his waist. The room spun around them, their worlds collapsing into a single point of heat and passion.

“I need you to know,” Bucky panted between kisses, his voice strained. “I need you to feel it—how much you mean to me. How much I want this to be more than just this—more than just a fuck.”

Y/N’s eyes widened at his words, a tear slipping down her cheek. “Bucky, I—”

He silenced her with another kiss, his hips rolling into her with a force that made her toes curl. The sound of their skin slapping together filled the room, punctuated by their ragged breaths and gasps. Bucky’s hands roamed her body, exploring every inch of her with a newfound sense of urgency. His thumbs circled her nipples, teasing and taunting, until she was writhing beneath him.

Y/N’s hips met his every thrust, her legs tightening around his waist, urging him deeper. She felt herself climbing higher and higher, the tension in her body coiling tightly. Bucky’s movements grew more erratic, his grip on her hips tightening until she knew she’d have bruises. But she didn’t care. All that mattered was the feeling of him inside her, the way his eyes searched hers as if trying to drown in the depths of her soul.

As the waves of pleasure crashed over her, Y/N’s nails dug deeper into his back. She cried out his name, her body shuddering with the force of her orgasm. Bucky groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as he continued to pump into her, chasing his own release. The tension in the room was palpable, the air thick with desire and emotion.

When he finally came, it was with a roar that seemed to shake the very foundation of the room. He buried his face in her neck, his teeth grazing her skin gently as he emptied himself inside her.

Y/N felt a strange thrill at his words. It was as if he’d branded her with his very essence, claimed her in a way that went beyond the physical. Her walls crumbled, and she realized that she’d been waiting for this—for him to acknowledge what she’d been feeling all along.

Bucky’s breathing slowly returned to normal, his body relaxing into hers. He kissed the spot where he’d bitten her, his lips lingering. “Mine,” he murmured against her skin, his voice hoarse with emotion.

The possessiveness in his tone sent a shiver down her spine. In that moment, she knew that she’d never be the same. She’d been marked by the Winter Soldier, claimed by the man she’d tried so hard not to love. And she didn’t want to be anyone else’s.

They laid there for a while, their hearts beating in sync, the silence speaking volumes. Y/N felt a sense of belonging that she hadn’t experienced in a long time—perhaps ever.

Slowly, Bucky pulled out of her, his eyes never leaving hers. He rolled over onto his side, pulling her with him so that she was nestled against his chest. His arms wrapped around her protectively, as if he feared she might disappear if he didn’t hold her tight enough.

————————————-end of smut————————————————

Y/N rested her head on his shoulder, listening to the steady beat of his heart. She felt his thumb rub circles into her back, soothing her, grounding her.

“You know you’re stuck with me now, right, doll?” he whispered, his voice a gentle rumble in her ear.

The words sent a warm glow through her. For the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to believe that maybe she could have more with Bucky—that maybe he could be her everything.

“Bucky, what do you mean by that?” Y/N’s voice was small, filled with a mix of fear and hope.

He sighed, his chest moving against her with the force of his breath. “It’s complicated, doll,” he murmured. “But the simple version is that I don’t want to be the one who’s just good for a night anymore. I want to be the one who’s good for forever.”

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. She’d been dreaming of this moment, but hearing it from him was different. It was real—and terrifying. She didn’t know how to respond, so she buried her face into his neck, breathing in the scent of him, letting it fill her lungs.

They laid there in silence for a few moments longer before Bucky spoke again, his voice a low rumble in her ear. “We should talk about this, Y/N. I don’t want to scare you off, but I can’t keep pretending like this isn’t happening between us.”

Y/N took a deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation she’d been both dreading and longing for. She pulled back slightly to look at him, her eyes searching his. “Okay,” she said, her voice strong despite the tremble in her chest. “Talk to me.”

Bucky rolled onto his back, bringing her with him so she was draped over his chest, her head nestled in the crook of his neck. His hand traced idle patterns on her back as he spoke. “You know my past, all the things I’ve done. I’ve never felt like I could offer someone like you anything real—anything that would make you happy. But when I’m with you, I feel…different. Like maybe I could be the man you deserve.”

Her eyes filled with tears as she listened to his words, feeling the weight of his confession in every beat of his heart beneath her cheek. “You are that man, Bucky,” she whispered. “You’ve always been that man to me.”

He swallowed hard, his thumb brushing away the tear that had slipped down her face. “But what if I’m not enough?” he asked, his voice raw.

Y/N propped herself up on one elbow, looking down at him. “You are enough. More than enough. And if you can’t see that, then I’ll just have to show you every day.”

The tension in the room had shifted, the air now thick with a new kind of anticipation. Bucky’s hand slid up her arm, his thumb caressing the sensitive skin of her inner wrist before moving to cup her cheek. He pulled her down for another kiss, this one slower, more deliberate than the ones before.

When they finally broke apart, Y/N could feel the change in him—the tension in his muscles had relaxed, his eyes had softened. He was looking at her with something new—a kind of hope she’d never seen in them before.

“Okay,” he said, his voice low and firm. “We’ll figure this out together. But I’m not letting you go, not now that I know what you mean to me.”

A smile spread across her face, genuine and warm. “Good,” she whispered. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

Their eyes held for a long moment before Bucky leaned in and kissed her again, his hand sliding down to rest over her heart. The beat beneath his palm was a steady reminder of what she meant to him—what they meant to each other.

🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄

Sunlight streamed through the curtains the next morning, warming Y/N’s bare shoulders. She stretched languidly, the memories of the night before flooding back in vivid detail. Turning over, she found Bucky already awake, leaning back against the headboard with a satisfied smirk.

“Morning, doll,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

Y/N flushed under his gaze, her lips quirking into a small smile. “Morning.”

As she reached for her phone on the bedside table, Bucky stopped her, his hand wrapping around her wrist. “You won’t be needing this.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, confused.

He unlocked the phone with a swipe and handed it to her. The screen showed her contacts list, now missing a particular name.

“Bucky!” she gasped, sitting up. “You deleted John’s number?”

“Damn right I did,” he replied unapologetically. “He doesn’t get to see you like that. That’s for my eyes only.”

She gaped at him, torn between exasperation and affection. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Maybe,” he said, pulling her back into his arms. “But you’re mine, doll. And that’s all that matters.”

Epilogue

From that day forward, things between them were different. Bucky didn’t run from his feelings anymore, and Y/N didn’t have to push hers away. Their relationship was messy and imperfect, but it was real—and it was theirs.

And John Walker? Well, he didn’t need to know what he was missing…

——————————————————————————————————

Hi! I really hope you enjoyed this. It wasn’t specified if you wanted smut, so I opted to make it a part that you could skip if you wanted. 🫶

Requests Open!

[miyaren]

What I Like | Osamu Miya

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✪ Osamu smut 18+ minors PLEASE dni

CW: manipulation a teensy bit , thigh riding (ゝз╹), one friendly clit slap (we're so back), unspoken pining , its kind of tender ok

When your fwb cancels on you, your best friend Osamu kindly offers to help you out with your problem. And in a crazy turn events, you agree.

an: I promised this fic a year ago 💔. That's not to say it took a year to write but that it's just been collecting dust in my docs. I love this one, it's my favorite flavor of friends to lovers and I might have to do a part 2! If you enjoy it, I would love to hear what you think xoxo

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“I’ll do it.” Osamu offered to you nonchalantly. 

You nearly spit out your drink. This was Osamu, your best friend since you both started college, the one who had introduced you to his brother in the first place.

 Atsumu was the guy you hooked up with semi regularly, who ruffled your hair and called you pipsqueak and acted like he hadn’t just rearranged your guts only minutes before. It was unserious in every sense of the word. 

Your friendship with Osamu? Serious. And important to you. Maybe you had stroked out. Maybe he had.

“What are you saying ‘Samu?”

He shrugged like the two of you were discussing the weather, “You seem upset Atsumu flaked and I'm offering to help you take care of it.” 

“Stop saying it like we’re talking about my dog. You’re talking about fucking me!”

Osamu’s calm expression broke into a cheshire grin, “It's a generous offer, you know. You should be grateful.”

“How are you so blase about this?”

“Y/n, you have been telling me how horny you are for the last twenty minutes, you can’t tell me this is phasing you.”

“But still-”

His laugh cut through your strangled words, “Such a big baby.”

Your ears heated up as he said it. He always called you that starting back to your freshman year when he found out you were an only child. He had mumbled that it made a lot of sense, and you had promptly swatted his arm. Just like then, it riled you up now. He knew it would. 

You pushed out of your seat to stand, “Alright. We’re going to my room.”

Osamu’s expression flashed with surprise, but it was gone as soon as it came. Wordlessly, he followed you into your room and closed the door.

The two of you stared at each other for a good minute. 

He tsked, “Y/n, don’t make this awkward.”

“I’m not. Just take off your clothes.” You directed as you pulled your shirt over your head. He moved to do the same.

“You’re making this clinical.” As he pulled his shirt off you saw the wry smile playing at his lips. 

You started unbuttoning your pants, “I’m not. Order is good, rules are good.”

“Any more rules before we start?” His hands were making quick work of his belt. 

Did you really need rules with Osamu? Obviously he’d never do anything to hurt you. But still. There was another potential issue. “No kissing. It's too intimate.”

He looked like he wanted to argue the point but he held his tongue. That lasted for only a second though. “I’m literally going to be inside you.”

“Potatoe potato.”

“The big baby that you are.”

You couldn’t waver on this, “Them’s the rules.”

He nodded with understanding and moved to take his boxers off. At the same time, you stepped out of your panties and unclasped your bra, letting it fall to the floor. 

When you looked up, of course Osamu was staring at you. And of course you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. He was perfectly sculpted all the way down to his V line. And he was big. It was a little weird to compare him to Atsumu, a little weird that you were going to have had sex with both twins in general. But he seemed bigger than what you were used to.

“You’re gorgeous.” Osamu’s eyes were unabashedly trailing up and down your body. You wanted to brush him off, and tell him he was being stupid. But your cheeks were flushed and you found yourself at a loss for words. 

He has said to not make this awkward. But how could you not? He was your best friend, so attractive that you had to pretend he wasn’t to function normally. And he was looking at you like that. 

Your mouth was open and you willed words to come out. He beat you to it.

“You have condoms? And lube?” Of course you did.

He took a seat on the edge of your bed as you dug through your drawers and fished the bottle of lube out. A condom following shortly after. 

“Here.” You handed him both. You wanted to finally touch him. Your palm landed on his chest and trailed down to hold him there. 

Osamu caught your wrist and mumbled, “Not yet. C’mere.” He beckoned you to climb into his lap and ushered you on top of him-hovering above his thighs-, the heat of his hands searing on your hips. Opening up the bottle, he poured a little out onto his thigh.

Your brows pinched, “What are you-”

“Ride my thigh.” His eyes bored right into yours.

“‘Samu, please I just want you to-”

One of his hands ran up the inside of your thigh before carding his fingers through your folds. You almost jolted at the feel of his cold fingertips. With featherlight pressure, he teased your clit, “Can you please just let me take care of you?”

He started to draw circles and you nodded dumbly as you sank down further, pussy bare against his thigh. Sliding his palms down to your ass, he guided you forward and then back and then forward again. When his mouth found your neck, an uncontrolled sound left your lips. 

You could hear him laugh but you didn’t seem to care as you rutted against him. The slick of the lube had you gliding along his thigh, the friction just right against your clit. 

All the while Osamu was littering your neck with red purple marks, one hand abandoning your hip in favor of rolling your nipples between his thumb and index. He pinched and watched you suck in a breath. Really, he wanted to hear you. He pinched again. 

You whined as you rode him, “‘Samu, please.” 

Smirking he pulled your nipple into his mouth, sucking and circling with his tongue. Osamu’s mouth paired with the delicious friction between your legs had you soaking his thigh. 

“You’re so pretty like this.” He whispered at your ear.

Your hips stuttered at the praise. As good as you were feeling, you felt you could never get close enough to his thigh, even as you ground against it. Your hands found purchase on his shoulders and you moved faster, harder. Not enough. “Osamu, please. I need more.”

He nipped at your neck before pulling back to watch you, “What do you want, Y/n?”

“Touch me, please. Like before.”

With a nod, he brought his fingers against you, “How does this feel, baby?”

Like he commanded it, your heart thundered and your clit pulsed at what he said. You swallowed hard, “So good, ‘Samu.”

He gave your clit a pinch and impishly smiled when you yelped, before kissing your neck in apology and circling one finger gently to soothe the sting, “Do you like it like this? Or like this?”

Instead of gentle, now he deepened the pressure on your clit and sped up with precision. In his lap you jolted, the tension in your body stacking. 

“Tell me, baby.”

You took a breath, “The second one.” He continued and licked up the column of your neck and you knew you were a goner. “I’m gonna cum, I-”

All at once, his fingers were gone from your throbbing core. Oh this was sick.

“Osamu what the hell?”

Both of his hands slid up your stomach to grope your tits, his thumbs rolling your nipples simultaneously, making you shiver, “I’ll let you come but. . .”

“But what?” 

Skimming his hand back down your body, his eyes flickered to your puffy cunt before he moved and cupped it gently. His hand was unmoving, but you could feel yourself throbbing in his palm. 

When he looked up his eyes met yours and though he had called you a big baby your entire friendship, he’d never seen you this needy in your life. Osamu’s face leaned closer to yours, “You have to kiss me.”

100% he had expected you to hesitate, definitely you were going to argue the point. Nothing could have prepared him for the way your small hands grabbed his face and you pulled him closer still, the way you kissed him like you might die. 

He moved his fingers back to where you needed most and he touched you the exact way you liked. As he sped up, you moaned into his mouth and Osamu’s tongue brushed against your bottom lip before you greeted it with your own. 

The dam inside you was so close to spilling over. Osamu’s fingers were unrelenting on your clit, tight little circles that never stopped. Hungrily, his tongue stroked against yours and you felt your body seize up, stars bursting behind your eyes. You were lost to the high of your release and you had to break apart from your kiss to writhe against his shoulder. He didn’t stop, rubbing you all the way through your orgasm with consistent pressure, not stopping even as your pelvis jumped against hand.

All through your cries he continued, finally stopping when you bit down into the crook of his neck. 

You stayed silent in his arms, your body rising and falling against him like you had just run a marathon.

Subtly you lifted your chin to peer up at him and found him watching you. You rolled your eyes, “I think you broke a rule just then.”

He smiled before stealing a chaste kiss from you, “And I think you liked it.”

You couldn’t argue the point, your lips were still tingling. Really the whole thing would have your mind spinning for quite a while. If you thought about it-

“Aghh.” Your back arched when Osamu gave your cunt a light slap. He was grinning down at you.

“I said don’t make it awkward.”

“I’m not.” You frowned against your will.

Osamu huffed out a laugh as his hand trailed down the love bites he left on your neck, “Such a big baby.”

Against your will, you shivered against him, remembering the way he had spoke to you just minutes before. Of course he noticed, he noticed everything about you. He leaned down so his mouth was at the shell of your ear and his thumb was stroking back and forth as he cupped your cheek, almost like he was holding you there so you couldn’t escape. 

“You like it when I call you baby, huh?” He whispered to you.

Undoubtedly you did. More than you should. 

But you needed to keep things normal. The two of you were best friends and you had to stay that way.

Don’t make it awkward. 

You could do that. 

You smacked his hand away from your face, “You gonna fuck me or are you gonna keep talking?”

The corner of his mouth pulled up into a smirk, “There she is.”

Before you could blink, he was tackling you down to the bed.

[paulyenvol6]

Take it

Daemon Targaryen x reader (OS)

You are Daemon Targaryen's wife and one night he comes back to your chambers after long and exhausting discussions with the small council. He is angry and hot-tempered and only one thing can calm him now and you both know it.

Contains: detailed smut, oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, kissing, touching, orgasm denial, slapping, choking, gagging, dirty talk, VERY degrading, objectification, mean/dom!Daemon, sub!reader, slight aftercare (Daemon being sweet in the end)

Wordcount: ~2.44k

Masterlist

Daemon Targaryen wasn't a patient man. And after 4 years of marriage you knew that.

He wasn't a very even-tempered person either. When there was something bothering him you knew. You could see it in the way his jaw tensed or how he observed his surroundings with small eyes or how they glistened at you.

And when Daemon entered your chambers tonight, you knew he was upset. At this moment it was mainly his heavy breathing that gave it away. On nights like this you knew exactly how to help him best.

He needed you. He didn't need you to talk to him or comfort him, no, he needed you to be his good little pet to throw around the way he wanted it. At first you had thought that this wasn't a very healthy way to deal with his issues but by now you knew it was almost the only way to calm him.

A lot of the times when your husband came to your chambers with this sort of temper you knew that there was a good chance it had to do with Otto Hightower, the king or perhaps even both. You never asked though because from the moment Daemon entered your rooms your priority was to please him and make him relax and not analyse his problems. You did what you knew helped him best in a situation like this even if it meant to give him complete and utter control over your body. Because that was what he needed. Daemon needed to have something that he could control, something that made him feel powerful. You were definitely the most fit for this job because you were willing to let him ravish you in every possible way.

So that night he only glanced at you for a brief moment and then loosened the belt around his waist. Carelessly he threw it on the table which hinted at his anger as well so you expectantly waited for him to command you to take a position to his liking.

"On your knees.", was all he said and you immediately dropped to your knees.

You felt the familiar stoney ground underneath you. Daemon liked to claim your mouth while you knelt on the floor though of course the bed would be more comfortable for you. He liked the way you looked there, small and vulnerable and you truthfully preferred it as well. Not only because you enjoyed pain while being with your husband, but also because he always degraded you when you were on the ground and so you knew you were in for a treat.

You watched him with anticipation and he actually did you the favor of not making you wait long. He approached you and unlaced his briefs with his swift hands and didn't waste any time once his cock was freed. He just shoved it into your mouth not caring about whether you could take it all or it was too fast for you. He exhaled and threw his head back and you truly felt like nothing but a sex toy for him. He used you like you were a present he got to unwrap and claim after a long and hard day. You were merely there for his satisfaction and though you were ashamed of it, the thought made you press your thighs together.

His cock filled your mouth and you would lie if you said that you didn't struggle. You couldn't properly breathe, your gagging reflex was triggered and you felt the need to cough. But Daemon didn't grant you any comfortability and neither did you complain. You knew well that this image of you, clinging helplessly to his thighs while desperately trying to take all of him only fueled his desire for you further. He liked to see how he was too much for you, how he could use you the way he wanted and how you fought to take it all. You were at his mercy and you were the one thing he had unconditional power over. This was what he desired after the tiresome discussions with Otto Hightower all day.

"Fucking hells.", Daemon now growled and grabbed a fistful of your hair. "Stupid little slut."

Yes, that was what you were now. No 'Sweet love' or 'Little one', no, you weren't really his wife right now, you were a toy. A plaything. He moved his hips to thrust into your mouth and slowly you started to adjust your breathing and managed to relax your mouth while air entered your lungs through your nose. Sometimes that turned out to be a difficulty as well because your nose was pressed to his pubic hair but your purpose right now was to make Daemon feel good. So you didn't lodge a complaint.

His grip on your hair was tight and demanding. He held his head to his liking which mostly meant that he held you in place while his cock ravished your mouth. Sometimes his thrusts were slow and deep, other times he went quick. The sound of wetness and slickness filled the room, along with your little moans and gulps and Daemon's rapid panting. His hips snapped against you and you knew by now your face was probably covered with saliva and tears. It was messy and hot and you loved everything about it.

But just when you prepared yourself for his seed you were certain to shoot down your throat soon, he suddenly stopped and yanked your hair upwards. Your scalp stung and quickly you stood up. Daemon examined your face and a crooked smirk appeared on his lips. He grabbed your chin tightly and drew you closer to him.

Then he held your chin with his left hand while two of his fingers of his right hand opened your mouth. You let him shove them deep inside until you gagged and your husband chuckled.

"Did you like that, mhm? Did you like how I destroyed that little mouth of yours? I bet you did. You like it too much seeing me angry, don't you?"

You shook your head with big eyes, unable to answer and Daemon's eyes darkened.

"Can't bring yourself to answer me. What a pity. You will soon though."

With these words he pulled his fingers out of your mouth which made you gasp for air but he didn't grant you a second to collect yourself.

"Hands and knees.", he ordered and you hasted towards the bed. You did as he had told you and adjusted your arse high up in the air while waiting for him with throbbing knees. Soon you heard him approach you and felt a hand surprisingly softly parting your legs. Usually Daemon would now prepare you for his cock, fingering and rubbing your pearl or licking it until you were dripping with your arousal but not tonight. He simply didn't care about you and your wishes, Daemon would just take what he wanted.

So he stood behind you while holding on to your hips with his left hand and his right wrapped around his cock. He guided the tip to your hole and thrusted into you with one movement. The sting brought tears to your eyes but it was in the best way possible. Your cunt definitely hadn't been dry but you weren't soaked either so it was a little uncomfortable at first. Daemon didn't give you a moment to adjust and immediately fucked you mercilessly.

"Oh seven hells. This tight cunt is a fucking dream. Fuck…. I will take this little hole now how I want and you'll take it. You'll take it without a complaint. I don't fucking care how much you'll cry or beg for me."

You whimpered at his words and your knees threatened to give in. Soon he had found a rhythm and the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed from the walls. Each thrust made you gasp because he hit so deep and intense and you squirmed now and then which made Daemon growl in dissatisfaction. He slapped your arse twice which made you whine and his grip on your hips tightened.

"Stay still or I'll paint your arse red.", he hissed and you believed every word. It would've been tempting actually to have him do it but not tonight. Not tonight when he actually disapproved of your behaviour.

So you tried your best to stay still but after a while it wasn't enough for Daemon. He wanted to control you, have you at his mercy. And so he pressed himself closer against your core until you fell over on your stomach and he hovered over you. Now each thrust pressed you into the bed and his hand that had gripped your hair shoved your face into the pillow so your cries were muffled.

"Seven hells.", he grunted. "Fuck. Yeah, that's what you are. My little whore to do with as I like. Always available and always all her holes spread open for me. I only have to say the fucking word."

He was so rough with you that you didn't even want to imagine what it would be like to walk in the morrow. It didn't matter to you. Nothing mattered besides Daemon. He bruised your cunt with every thrust, his hand came down to slap your butt every few seconds and his hand pulled at your hair whenever he felt the wish to. You cried out at a particular sharp thrust and even through the pillow Daemon was able to hear it and he yanked your head to the side so he could see your face. Tears ran down your face and your mouth formed an 'O'.

"Aww, it's too much for you?", he asked and your lower lip trembled but you shook your head. "I think it's what this filthy little cunt deserves. She likes it rough, doesn't she?"

You nodded and moaned. "Yes. Please, Daemon."

He chuckled in response and smacked your arse. "It doesn't matter what she likes. You're my toy, did you forget that? You're here to make me happy. To satisfy me whenever and however I want to."

He caressed the hair out of your face so the side of your face was exposed to him, a gesture that seemed almost suspiciously gentle right now.

"Cry if you feel the wish to. Let me see those pretty tears."

Your wet eyes glared at him and you sniffed when he ran his thumb over the little droplets.

"Beautiful. Such beautiful tears for such a dirty whore. Do you think this will make me stop? Do you think this will make me feel for you? I will stop when I'm finished."

Of course you didn't want him to stop. You never wanted him to stop no matter how rough or overwhelming he was. His pounding in your cunt continued and you savoured each moment.

His hand now wandered to wrap around your throat and he put some force on it, just enough to choke you and hear these sweet noises leaving your mouth. He smirked contently and also used your neck as leverage in order to fuck you deeper and faster. You felt so incredibly small and powerless while he used your body to his liking as if you indeed were nothing but a doll for him to destroy. Your breathing went faster and unsteadier and you felt Daemon's movements getting sloppy which indicated that he was close.

"Gods be good. Ohh I'm gonna fill this tight cunt of yours with my seed. Fuck… such a good plaything. You fucking exist to serve me, little whore. I own that body of yours."

Your cunt clenched around him which earned you another growl against your ear and you rubbed your core against the sheets with the little space that he granted you. It was an attempt to stimulate your pearl, which you definitely needed to be able to reach your high but Daemon, who sensed your movement and understood your intentions slapped your arse.

"No. You will come if I allow you to and I'm not sure I do today."

So you stopped though your aching nub was yearning for any friction. But he was in charge and he enjoyed this power so much that he liked to make you feel it even if he was cruel while doing it.

And so he fucked your cunt until Daemon released and collapsed on top of you. You heard him pant heavily against the crouch of your neck and he let out little groans every now and then.

"Fuck. Oh shit.", he made and pressed his face against your skin. You hadn't come which of course wasn't amazing but you hadn't expected it either. Also, you were feeling way too small and needy to care so you just laid while your husband tried to regain his breath. His weight pressed you into the bed and then after a while Daemon slightly lifted himself off you and gently turned you around on your back.

Your eyes were half-closed, your mouth parted and your face was covered with sweat, tears, saliva and prints from the creases in the bedsheets underneath you. Daemon smirked lightly and caressed your skin which made your eyes flutter.

"Daemon.", you whimpered and twitched because the contact of your sore arse with the bed hurt you.

"Shhhh, it's alright, little one."

It was as though he had switched his personality. Seconds ago he had degraded the shit out of you and now he couldn't be more caring and sensitive. Your hands reached out to grab his shirt and he let you. He knew that it would give you comfort. Daemon leaned down to kiss your lips and then left kisses on your nose and cheeks as well.

"I need to get you cleaned, little love.", he purred but panick creeped up on you.

"Please. Please no, I want to be with you. Here.", you begged him with teary eyes and Daemon sensed how deep he had driven you into feeling little. You were always a little needy and sensitive after he had bedded you but when he was rough while doing it, you needed him to be extra loving and caring.

"But my little girl, I'll be with you."

But you pouted at him and he saw your lower lip tremble. "Please no. I'm tired, I want to lay here with you.", you whispered and Daemon's heart softened.

"Fine. I'll stay here with you. We'll clean you up later."

And so you contendly closed your eyes and it took only seconds until your aching body relaxed and you fell asleep in Daemon's arms.

[jwonsite]

taesan (boynextdoor) smut drabble

warnings: he’s kinda mean,, rough,, reader tries to top him,, does not work,, unprotected (wrap it up!), oral (m receiving), p in v, he cums inside, slight breath kink..?

wc: uhhhh around 1k

when i tell you this is my fav taesan to write,,, i mean it cuz he quite literally LOVES this dynamic most definitely his fav. loves being able to put you in your place when you’re not listening and show you who’s in charge🥰

probably would start w you just teasing him in little ways thru out the day,, rubbing your ass against him as you pass by,, “accidentally” brushing your hand over his dick when you’re sitting next to him,, bending down right in front of him to grab something off the floor,, literally just doing everything you can to drive him insane enough for him to finally say something to you. def just grabbing you by the wrist as you pass by a little too closely and saying something like “what the fuck is your problem today??”,,, and just seeing how annoyed he gets when you answer back “i don’t know what you’re talking about baby🤕” as you free yourself from his grip and keep walking.

he would def just run a hand thru his hair before following you to your room,, watching as you change out of your clothes into a pair of shorts and one of his t shirts before continuing to talk,,, saying something like “you’ve been acting like a slut all day,, is what i’m talking about”,, crossing his arms and leaning against the door frame as you slip his t shirt over your frame. “ohh that?”,, sitting on the edge of the bed as you talk to him,, watching as he walks over to stand above you,, arms still crossed as he runs his eyes down your figure,, “yeah that,, you wanna say sorry for acting like a slut all day while i was trying to get some work done?”

his hands coming down to unbuckle his belt and pull down his pants to show his hard on straining against his underwear. “mm,,, i don’t think i will,,, gonna get what i want anyways” you say as you lean back onto your hands,, watching as his dick is practically leaking at the sound of your voice. taesan probably just letting out a small laugh under his breath,, before wrapping his hand around your neck to pull your face right up against his dick,, pushing your face down onto him to relieve some of the pressure,, “yeah? you think i’m gonna give you what you want after you were being a brat all day?” he says as he forces two of his fingers into your mouth to yank your jaw open,,, quickly pulling down his underwear to shove his dick in your mouth,, pushing your nose all the way down to his pelvis so he can hear you choking on his dick🤕

he would love feeling the way you push against his thighs,, trying your best to come up for air as he’s holding you down,, watching how your eyes start to tear up at the intrusion at the back of your throat💔 literally just using your throat like a fucktoy,,, thrusting in and out of your so hard until he’s holding your face down and cumming straight down your throat,, pulling your face off of him as he says smth like “you wanna keep acting like a brat and choke on my dick again or are you gonna be a good girl and listen so i can finally fuck you like the slut that you are?”,, watching as you try to catch your breath,,

his breath suddenly hitching as your hand reaches out to pump his dick,, running your thumb over his slit as he tried to grab your wrist to stop the overstimulation,, you just keep pumping him until he’s cumming again all over your hands,, smirking as he lets out low groans and moans,, “what happened baby boy? can’t handle being overstimulated?” you say with a fake pout,, smiling to yourself as you lick his cum off your hands. without saying a word he’s flipping you onto your stomach,, pushing your face into the mattress as he pulls your hips up and pushes into you,, filling you up all in one go,, and just pumping into you hard af,, “is this what you wanted?? hm?? to be fucked like a slut??” as he grips your hair to pull your back against him,, biting the shell of your ear before letting you fall back down onto your hands,, then pushing your face back into the mattress to make you arch more. def slapping your ass so fucking much,, you’re going to have handprints on your ass for days.

could see this being one of the days where you’re more vocal too,, taesan would fucking love ts. just hearing how you whine and moan for him as he’s balls deep in you he’s going to be so close to cumming but would hold off for as long as he can,, wanting to make sure you cum first. would grab the hair on the back of your head and pull on it,, just using it as something to hold onto as he’s fucking into you hard enough to leave bruises on your ass🤕

would slip his hand around your chest and play with your nipples when you get close,, using his other hand to play with your clit to have you cumming so hard around him,, feeling the way you clench around his dick as he keeps pumping into you to chase his high,, cumming soon after and just pushing his load so deep in you before pulling out to watch how his cum seeps out of you,, using two fingers to push it back in before sticking his fingers down your throat so you can taste the mixture you both made🤕 def just collapsing onto the bed beside you and pulling you onto his chest for a bit,, kissing your head and laying there for a bit before getting up to run you both a bath to clean up💔

[preqwells]

cw: 18+, afab, fingering, p in v, read part 1 of mechanic konig here

mechanic! konig would definitely become clingy after what you thought was your one-night stand.

staying true to his word, your new lovely mechanic named könig followed through with teaching you the basics of a car. how to check the dipstick that was in your oil tank so you'd know when you needed an oil change, checking the tire pressure so you didn't find yourself in a situation you didn't want to end up in-- he was thorough, diligent-- he found himself caring more than usual as he explained these things to you. "so, when it gets to this mark?" you softly inquired, pressing your fingernail to the mark you assumed he had pointed to. "no, maus-- here. if you base it off where you just pointed, well… good luck." he mumbled, a tinge of amusement in his tone. he kept his thick digit on the dipstick, slick oil making his index finger glisten under the sun. you attempted to train your brain to think of anything but what it wanted to think, honestly. you let out another sheepish chuckle, nodding obediently at any pointers he was kind enough to give you.

call it luck or fate, but könig didn't have the serpentine belt you so desperately needed to have installed in your car to get to work tomorrow. könig felt a hint of excitement-- this meant you needed a ride home, right? könig was kind enough to offer you a ride… well, an actual ride which you vehemently refused at first. you had never been one to ask favors of others, certainly not a stranger you just met even if your conscience screamed at you to do otherwise. "i can't-- i can't cover any additional costs…" you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as your eyes fell to the ground out of embarrassment. your helplessness was cute-- the pout that tugged at the fullness of your lips, your shy demeanor-- how had he gone so long without seeing such a sweetheart around town? "nein, it won't cut into what you already owe me. it'll be cheaper taking a ride from me than getting an uber, anyways." he insisted, catching onto the way you previously mentioned cutting back on expenses. you couldn't argue with him-- or more like, you didn't want to.

during the car ride home, könig would sneak glances at you-- whether it be at red lights or when he turned the corner. he couldn't help the way his eyes would roam your figure, and you even caught glimpses of his lingering gaze. you weren't stupid, and neither was he-- the tension was palpable, almost tangible. he guided you to your door, his hand splayed across the small of your back, thick digits bracing you. "um… well, thanks-- for everything." you quickly got out, wanting the interaction to be over so you wouldn't make a fool out of yourself. everything felt so intimate-- the way he touched you, stole glances at you-- it felt out of character for you since you had only known him maybe for half the day. könig remained quiet for a moment, drinking in every reaction you had. your head tilted upward, looking up at him through your lashes as he kept your gaze. the atmosphere suddenly felt thick, intense. "no problem. couldn't let you go home without knowing you were safe." his voice dropped an octave, his head dipping lower to insert himself in your personal bubble. your breath hitched as you nodded, opening the door as his forearms leaned against the doorframe, the heavy tools on his belt exposing a sliver of skin along with a tuft of hair right above his groin.

"well… i'm safe." "are you?" "mhm." "how're you gonna get back to my shop tomorrow?"

your brain short-circuited at the heady mix of the bluntness of his words and his stature, your mouth slightly agape. he let out a low chuckle before his index finger found the belt loop of your pants, pulling you into his space. you mumbled out a weak 'i dunno'-- that answer wasn't good enough for him. "… i could stay the night… won't cut into what you already owe me, maus." he reiterated his earlier point, the boldness of his words coated in mirth. his face was brought closer to your own, his black lashes hanging low over his eyes. your hands found purchase on his biceps before his lips brushed against yours, putting a silence to any lingering tension from earlier as your eyes fluttered closed. he put every ounce of being into the kiss-- hell, he wished you could've broken your serpentine belt earlier if it meant a pretty thing like you could've stepped into his shop sooner than you did. he backed you into your apartment, his hand closing the door hurriedly. "fuck-- you just had to walk into my shop, didn't you?" he gruffed out between kisses, annoyed at the feeling of how quickly he already found himself half-hard.

you parted your lips to squeak out a half-hearted apology before könig used this opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, coaxing a sweet moan from you which elicited a wicked grin from könig. könig led you into your bedroom, gently placing you at the head of the bed as his teeth nipped at every area of skin he could think of-- your neck, your collarbone, underneath your breast when he managed to get your shirt off. the whines and whimpers that escaped you only urged him to continue, didn't you know? stupid of you, really-- to think you weren't going to end the night with his fingers readying you to split you open on his heavy cock. his head lolled back when he did eventually find his length rubbing snugly against the slickness of your walls, your eyes blinking away tears from the initial stretch. he quickly caught wind of this as he halted his movements, arching down as his lips pressed against your cheek.

"s'okay, maus-- know i'm kind of a fit, eh? just tell me when it's okay to move." he cooed to which you quickly nodded, exhaling a sigh you didn't know you were holding. as you signaled for him to start moving, his thrusts were almost borderline calculated, precise-- you didn't seem to be complaining about it from the string of moans you were letting out, anyway. it didn't take long for his thrusts to grow sloppy, a mix of your wetness and the sound of skin slapping together filling the room. the way you keened, your brows knitted so closely together from pleasure, your lips swollen and red from the earlier make-out session-- yeah, this is where könig needed to be; buried deep into your drooling pussy.

the night came to an end as did your time with könig-- hell, you could barely remember falling asleep. you went to sleep with the thought that you'd wake up to an empty bed, trying to conjure ways for it not to be so awkward when you did eventually go to pick up a car. you'd never really had a one-night stand before-- how do you even face someone who was practically balls-deep in you the night before? what you didn't expect when morning came was the soft kisses that rained upon your cheek, waking you out of a well-deserved sleep. your eyes slowly opened, scanning the room and taking in the sight of yourself under the covers. you were… clean? no traces of stickiness between your legs, no sweat sticking to your skin. your head turned to the side to be greeted with the sight of könig with bed-head, his hair twisted in every way imaginable. your eyebrows furrowed together out of confusion-- you were fully expecting him to leave. könig caught on quickly to your confusion, his elbow propped up on the mattress as his palm rested on the side of his cheek. he returned your look of confusion as if daring you to say something.

"what? we have to go pick up your car today, don't we?"