#jackson healy x reader

[hoppingonjim]

ACTION ! - holland march + jackson healy x reader

summary: holland cannot resist but record you getting eaten out by mr healy.

cw: oral (f receiving), afab!reader, mention of thickness around thighs, recording, cuck?? idk holland likes watching you be a mess, 3some somewhat, aspects of dom&sub. dom!jackson healy. dom!holland march. sub!reader. mocking/degrading kink.

༺♡︎༻

his recording is driving you mad.

ever since his partner had been finding his way around your body with his tongue, he couldn't hit the stop button. for some reason, a reason he couldn't quite explain, it was incredibly sexy to watch you lose all control under someone else. especially jackson.

the brunette is forcing stars upon you with the way he thrusts his tongue in and out of your weeping pussy. with heavy eyelids you attempt to keep your gaze on the enforcer but it proves to be too difficult. lacking will-power, you allow your head to fall back. letting him have total control of over you. until soft fingers gripped your cheeks, imprinting on them before tugging your head to view jackson once again, “c'mon baby, don't you wanna watch what he's doing to you?”

aged fingers explore the gentleness of your thighs. clawing the supple skin and tugging, kneading the dough coarsely. the way you're rutting your hips like an animal in heat so desperately against his gaping mouth is enough for his cock to bulge against his jeans. aching to be touched.

keeping your eyes open for the working man is tough, but your real man eyes you as prey, ensuring your eyes don't close unless you're blinking. the sensations being thrown upon you are too much. with quivering legs and a weeping clit, you can feel your high wave close. the camera lingers in front of your face and hypnotizes you. the consistent flash kissing your irises only adds to the sudden sensations. jackson isn't letting up, his tongue reaching desperately for whatever he can. hopefully your g-spot. the thrusts he blows inside of your sopping slit are enough to already make you cum. but holland's above you, tauntingly peering down and devouring the helpless sight below him. licking his lips he encourages you to hold out longer. let jackson work some more of his magic.

except jackson's hands grow savage. nails dig into your hips and mark his terriorty on the thickness of your thighs. crescents littering your once chaste skin. the way his tongue abuses your clit suddenly is too much. it's all an overkill. your legs quiver as you let go, cumming hard and heavy for the muscle man beneath you.

“fuck, fuck yeah.. damn baby, keep fucking moaning oh fuck yeah, fuck you sound so pretty..” complementing his words is the slender movements of his fingers caressing your cheeks. his thumb moves to swipe the deserted strands of hair away from your dazzling eyes. like a hawk observing prey, narrowed eyes never fall from your sight. to him the melodic sounds pouring through your lips in the form of helpless cries. the mascara once twirling your lashes is suddenly clumping around the thin hairs. collecting around the waterline and smudging towards your undereye. there's no prettier sight in holland's eyes and he feels a need to point the camera obnoxiously into your face. your messy face.

lapping up all of your sweet cum, jackson pulls away with a hefty sigh, a curiosity twinkles in his eye as he stares at his associate, “so.. do i get to feel her for real now? i think she wants that, huh princess? you want that?” so badly you do. the man is strong, similar to your holland, but this one is rough. he's not suave. leather and brass share his stature, fighting over their own sections.

it's not completely your decision though. and that's the way you like it.

holland is only able to shake his head. within seconds he's ushering his, friend, out the door. towards the door. then out the door.

“think i want my girl to myself now jackson, uh buh bye .”

suddenly, hands fall down to his belt buckle. game on.

[stupidfuckingwindow]

Three's company // Holland March, Jackson Healy.

Word count: 1.5k

Content/Warnings: NSFW, Holland cums a lot. Gets romantic real fast. Takes place after an upcoming fic. Slight crack in the beginning, emotional at the end.

Big thanks to @hoppingonjim for writing Jackson Healy fics. He just does something to my mind and I need him, I fear. I love their fics, go check them out. I reread their stuff to help me with writing my own version of Healy.

It's barely been thirty minutes and Holland's already cum twice, flecks of white splattered onto his chest. (And, by God, listen when I fucking tell you that it's an absurd amount of cum, Jesus CHRIST.) His suit- the blue and orange one you like so much- is nothing short of a disheveled mess, and his hair is in a similar state of disarray. At this point, it seems like Holland is having the most fun between you and his partner, despite the fact he's barely even been touched. Despite that fact, he's literally panting.

Going back to his made mess of cumming, he'd actually managed to get both you and Healy, who's a good enough distance away that you could almost consider Holland's unorthodox ability impressive. No matter how surprising that little idea seems to be, Jackson sure isn't impressed.

"We've barely even taken off your damn clothes," he tells Holland. He isn't given a response that's coherent, just a loud 'Fuck!' from March when his hips jolt upwards at the feeling of your hand wrapped around his cock. And, even with that, your grip is relatively light and Holland is doing all the work, fucking into your hand again like countless nights before this. The cigarette hanging from his mouth is on the verge of leaving him, just barely managing to stay between his lips.

Jackson mutters something under his breath along the lines of "Oh, Jesus fucking Christ," before he's tugging off Holland's suit jacket for him and starting to peel clothes off the older man. Even though he seems annoyed at best and irritated at worst, the erection straining against his jeans tells you that he's anything but.

..Maybe a little annoyed, definitely frustrated- You know that for sure.

You're in a similar state of arousal, heat having simmered in your lower half. But you and Healy had simultaneously and wordlessly agreed that it'd be best if you dealt with Holland before helping one another out. The only problem now is that Holland is still hard, still going, and is making such a racket that you're sure someone'll be at your door to complain in the early hours.

In an attempt to start pulling off the rest of Holland's clothes, the P.I. starts to grind his cock against your still clothed hips, letting out a low moan. His head falls back, eyes squeezing shut and making the skin around his nose scrunch up when he accidentally hits the back of his head too hard.

It takes you a minute, but you finally slide his boxers and dress pants off of him, haphazardly tossing the articles of clothing to the floor. His hips shift a little, legs moving to trap you between his thighs and keep you there. You squeeze the base of his cock in a positive response, and another curse leaves Holland. His whole body jumps in its attempt to seek more pleasure out of your grasp.

There's already pre-cum starting to collect on the head of his dick, pooling down your knuckles and onto your thighs that rest beneath him. More leaks out and spreads over your fingers, and your thumb brushes over the sensitive tip.

But you've already paid enough attention to Holland, you think. Your grip loosens around him, but you keep it there. Still, your attention switches to Healy (who's much more patient than you'd given him credit for, in all honesty). His focus is on you, too. Interest in those blues of his that you find to be lighter than Holland's. It's a subtle detail, but one to still be noticed and kept in mind for whatever reason. It's not important, it shouldn't be, but it is, to you, and you don't know why.

With your free hand, you wipe away a little of Holland's ejaculate from his face and bring your lips to his. Something new pokes through his usual exterior, surprise at your movements. He doesn't make any move to pull away or resist or even hesitate, his tongue against yours. You doubt he's been touched in a while. You think he'd admitted it himself to you, once, but you can't exactly recall.

Not like this, with Holland fucking your hand and his enforcer of a partner kissing you. In your home, because Holland didn't have the patience to drive to his place. Because Holland had wanted this now, with you and Jackson and no one else.

And, now that you think about it, Holland hasn't been touched in a while either. He's pent up, has been for a while, ever since his wife passed.

But, even knowing that he could have picked someone else, he didn't. He knows you, he chose you. And, even if he's not yet ready to say 'I love you', yet, you know he does. Some part of him cares, bothers enough to still talk to you. And it makes you feel wanted, even if this is a somewhat unconventional pairing, you and Holland and Jackson.

Even Jackson seems to care, as you two finally part for air. He's paid to protect, but that's not what this is anymore. It's unconditional at this point.

There's a faint string of saliva still connecting you and him when your attention turns back to Holland. And you were so lost in thought and the feeling, that he'd cum again unnoticed, large cock finally going soft in your hand while he gasps for air. "Jesus," You hear him mutter, to himself, see his eyes flutter shut. You let him go, leave him to curl on his side and sleepily mumble to himself about indecipherable nonsense.

You and Jackson are on one another pretty quickly, still a little slower and shy with one another as you get a feel for what the two of you even want to do. The two of you are still covered in Holland's release, but it's not a problem. The most it gets in the way is in the form of a taste between the two of your tongues, adding a tang of salt.

Your clothes are off before his, warm hands embracing your hips to pull you further against him while you work on undressing him. Your hand slips into the front of his jeans, pumping slow strokes up the length of his cock. He groans into your lips, hands squeezing your hips a little at the feeling.

And, just as the attention had just been stuck on Holland, now it's on you.

Another set of hands join your hips from behind; Holland is up again, already. Jesus Christ. And he's already hard, grinding his erection against your ass while he whispers praise into your bare shoulder. Kisses trail the back of your neck, and you feel his hair tickle the side of your face. His breath is hot on your shoulder, naked body flush against yours. His scent is cigarettes and peppery cologne that he can't even smell.

"You're so good for us," He quietly tells you, nose buried in your shoulder while he rocks his hips against yours. The movement pushes you slightly against Healy, as well, pleasure shared between everyone involved. Thick fingers stroke at your hips soothingly, passion exchanged for a quiet, calm moment. It's less like the heavy, heated tension of arousal and more similar to the sweet focus of romance, only heightened by Holland's sweet kisses that are peppered across your skin.

Healy takes a second to remove the rest of his clothes, leaving you in his partner's embrace and care. But his presence is drawn close again, bringing back warmth to your front.

Holland shifts you and himself so that your legs will wrap around Jackson's waist, and his head moves to your other shoulder, chin resting in the crook of your neck. He kneads loving circles into your right thigh, keeping your legs open for his partner. Two of Healy's fingers slide into your cunt, thumb pressing against your clit. His eyes switch between your face to his fingers, watching how they move in and out of your wet centre.

As Healy fucks you on his fingers, Holland's free hand traces little shapes and patterns into your skin, his eyes fluttering shut. He's still tired, no doubt, but it doesn't matter more to him than this does.

Every side of you is warm, seen and touched and handled with care.

And when the tip of Healy's cock finally pushes past your folds, Holland's praise is just as unwavering. His kisses are slow and deliberate, matching in perfect timing with each drag of Jackson's hips against yours. Holland's arms wrap around your torso, practically radiating warmth into your skin that settles along your body.

"I love you," Holland finally admits, long after you and Healy have cummed together. Once the three of you had finally curled into bed together and Holland and Jackson held you. Long after the lights had turned off. And it's a confession that matters, to you. One telling the truth. He's fully sober as he says it. And even if Healy is asleep and no one but you can hear it, it's a step in the right direction.

[danime25]

Doing a little thing with @drivinmeinsane for the holiday season! Thank you for writing with me during this

Here is the masterlist for my 12 days of Goosemas fics! Fics starring characters played by Ryan Gosling. I hope you'll all enjoy!

My timezone is GMT-9 and I'll be posting starting on December 12th at Midnight, with a fic uploaded every day until the 24th.

ALT Text:

' Last Christmas: Colt Seavers/Reader (SFW)

Wrapped Up In You: Sierra Six/Reader (SFW)

Nog On The Noggin': Holland March/Reader (SFW)

Silent Night: Lars Lindstrom/Reader (NSFW)

Wonderful Christmastime: Lars Lindstrom/Reader (NSFW)

Santa Baby: Holland March/Jackson Healy (SFW)

Rockin' Around: Sebastian Wilder/Reader (SFW)

Silver Bells and Silver Screens: Ken/Reader (SFW)

Mistletoe: Holland March/Reader (NSFW)

Winter Wonderland: Driver/Ken (SFW)

Jingle All The Way: Sierra Six/Reader (SFW)

A Christmas Miracle: Sebastian Wilder/Reader (NSFW)

[ken-dom]

∘₊✧ Ryan Gosling ✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Masterlist ✧₊∘

All works are x reader unless otherwise stated - interships are highlighted by character names in blue

I don’t take requests in the traditional sense, but I’m always up for talking about my faves and sometimes it inspires a fic!

Don’t be afraid to ask if you want to see more of a certain character, it’s good for me to know and I’ll try my best!

Relevant warnings are included in the individual fic posts

∘₊✧─────────────────────���₊∘

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

KEN ✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Ken blurbs, imagines, scenarios etc.

Fluff ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Comfort headcanons

∘₊✧ Lavender Ken worries he’s not good enough (includes original artwork)

NSFW ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ NSFW headcanons

∘₊✧ Sex On The Beach Ken learns about the cocktail and gets curious

∘₊✧ Ken After Dark Ken has a dirty secret that you’ll only discover if you skip girls night (includes original artwork)

∘₊✧ Ken’s Glitter Ken’s stuff ✧₊∘ is not like other humans

∘₊✧ Ken’s First Orgasm Exactly what it says on the tin!

∘₊✧ Ken Can't Do Flips But He Sure Can Strip Ken wants to put on a little show for you

∘₊✧ Pretty Doll (Lars Lindstrom x Ken) Lars has a new doll

∘₊✧ It's Crazy How I Need Your Friction (Driver x Ken) Driver leaves a gift for Ken

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

DRIVER ✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Driver blurbs, imagines, scenarios etc.

NSFW ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Kiss Driver has been fantasising about kissing you so much that when you do, it’s overwhelming

∘₊✧ Gloves Driver keeps his gloves on for you

∘₊✧ Lips You give Driver a blowjob

∘₊✧ Short Stories: Driver Three stories shipping Driver with Julian Thompson, Luke Glanton and Lars Lindstrom

∘₊✧ Bite My Lip ‘Til You Break It solo Driver, kissing kink

∘₊✧ It's Crazy How I Need Your Friction (Driver x Ken) Driver leaves a gift for Ken

∘₊✧ Everything Looks Better When The Sun Goes Down Driver gets hard from a car chase (and breaks into your house)

∘₊✧ Might Wanna Kiss Before The End of This Song You like Driver riled up, so you push him

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HENRY LETHAM ✧₊∘

Fluff ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Your Voice Henry thinks he recognises you and finds comfort in your kiss

NSFW ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Make You Worse you encourage Henry to be what he considers his worst

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

HOLLAND MARCH ✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Holland March blurbs, imagines, scenarios etc.

NSFW ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ NSFW alphabet

∘₊✧ A Long Time Holland wants you, but he's scared to move on

∘₊✧ A Nice House (With Nice Carpets) You mess up the carpet in Holland’s nice house

∘₊✧ Did I Dream That? Holland had a great time last night. You were amazing, apparently.

∘₊✧ Perfect Match Holland’s first time in a long time

∘₊✧ Cumming For Days Holland wants you filled to the brim with him

∘₊✧ I Can Fix Him Holland can’t perform when he’s wasted (part of a triple threat with @hollandstrophyhusband and @webbo0 — fics linked in post)

∘₊✧ Interview With The Mermaid Holland gets curious about mermaid anatomy

∘₊✧ One More Night Holland’s horny while you’re away

∘₊✧ Did You Get It? Holland gets horny in the middle of the day. And Healy is waiting right outside

∘₊✧ Forever (Holland March x Jackson Healy) Healy is amused with how much cum Holland can produce

∘₊✧ Dare To Dream (Holland March x Jackson Healy) There’s only one bed! And oops… Holland has a wet dream

∘₊✧ A Few Things About Holland You blindfold Holland

∘₊✧ Accidental Innuendo (Holland March x Jackson Healy) Holland needs to jerk off. Right. Now.

∘₊✧ March Magic Three times Holland couldn’t get it up and one time he did

Angst ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Come Back To Me Nightmare or dream? Why not both. (part one of a two part series with @heresthestorymorningglory — fic linked in post)

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LARS LINDSTROM ✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Lars photo collection series

∘₊✧ Lars blurbs, imagines, scenarios, etc.

Fluff ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ K-I-S-S Scrabble night ends with a flustered Lars

∘₊✧ Home Lars has a question for you (includes art)

∘₊✧ Signs Of A Lifetime Lars’s first New Years Eve

∘₊✧ My Body’s A Zombie Lars sings to you (includes art)

NSFW ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Thank You Lars’s first time

∘₊✧ Possession Lars needs to know you belong to him

∘₊✧ Prioritise Pleasure Lars is nervous about cumming

∘₊✧ Part 2 Lars wants to return the favour

∘₊✧ Pretty Doll (Lars Lindstrom x Ken) Lars has a new doll

∘₊✧ Training Wheels Lars is such a dirty boy, getting hard for you at a party. Only one thing for it: bathroom hand job

∘₊✧ What’s Left In Me (Lars Lindstrom x Bianca) Lars needs Bianca to know she’s his

∘₊✧ Riding Lars Lindstrom’s Thick Thighs Exactly what it says on the tin!

∘₊✧ Wake Up To Me Every Morning Lars gets a taste for you

∘₊✧ Lars and sexual desire thoughts and an imagine about Lars’s sexiness

∘₊✧ Thoughts on eating Lars’s pussy

∘₊✧ Lingered Lips you move in next door. Lars helps you settle in (and warm up)

∘₊✧ Lay With Me, I'll Lay With You (afab!Lars) Lars follows your directions when he’s desperately turned on but can’t take any more touching

∘₊✧ I Guess I’m Already There Lars has a wet dream

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SIERRA SIX ✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Sierra Six blurbs, imagines, scenarios etc.

Fluff ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Alone Together you share a carnival date with Six

NSFW ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Aftercare headcanons

∘₊✧ Sense drabble - Six can sense what you want

∘₊✧ Just Another Wednesday Six surprises you after a long day

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STEVEN WINGDINGS ✧₊∘

NSFW ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Keyboard Smash Steven is not pleased with the font you’ve used. Until you find one he really likes

∘₊✧ Keyboard Caress Steven makes peace with Papyrus

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JULIAN THOMPSON ✧₊∘

NSFW ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Touch Julian needs to learn he’s worthy of being touched

∘₊✧ Comfort Hurt/comfort and smut with Julian after the fight

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OFFICER K ✧₊∘

∘₊✧ K blurbs, imagines, scenarios etc.

NSFW ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Take Me Home A sleepy morning with K

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

NOAH CALHOUN ✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Noah blurbs, imagines, scenarios etc.

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SEBASTIAN WILDER ✧₊∘

Fluff ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Dreams post-canon comfort drabble

NSFW ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Midnight Thoughts (Sebastian Wilder x Jacob Palmer) sexting

∘₊✧ All of Your Flaws are Aligned with This Mood of Mine Seb goes too far during an argument

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LUKE GLANTON ✧₊∘

NSFW ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ I've Got You On My Lips Luke gifts you lipstick. It's for you, and for him

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COLT SEAVERS ✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Colt blurbs, imagines, scenarios etc.

NSFW ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ I’ll Do Anything You Say If You Say It With Your Hands Long hair Colt + praise + overstimulation

∘₊✧ Stay Quiet, Stay Near, Stay Close You help Colt unwind with a hot bath and a massage

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

RYLAND GRACE ✧₊∘

NSFW ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ The Stars Look Very Different Today Ryland is relieved to carry out a new command from the computer

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

JACOB PALMER ✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Jacob blurbs, imagines, scenarios etc.

NSFW ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Midnight Thoughts (Sebastian Wilder x Jacob Palmer) sexting

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[drivinmeinsane]

what pairings are going to be in the 12 days of christmas collection?

I'll be posting a masterlist with these pairings and the associated prompts on the 12th. All of the fics will be holiday/winter related with a touch of Christmas theming here and there depending on the specific fic. ☃️🎄

Colt Seavers x Reader (2x)

Driver x Reader (2x)

Driver x Ken

Henry Letham x Reader

Henry Letham x Sam Foster

Holland March x Jackson Healy

Julian Thompson x Reader

Ken x Reader

Officer K x Reader

Sebastian Wilder x Reader

+ a surprise pairing ('tis the season after all)

I couldn't resist from tripling up on fics for Driver. He's my specialist boy unfortunately.

[hoppingonjim]

I just love how much you love Jackson Healy too! I had a fun little idea if you wanted to explore it for him. On an unexpectedly rainy day in LA, Jackson pulls over to give the reader a ride so she decides to thank him by riding him too 🤭

RIDING DIRTY- healy !

note: he's my fav, ever. i'm so uggggh in love w him. #jacksonarmy . i'm more in love w this idea though omg but so sorry for the wait on this! if it sucks, lmk and i'll rewrite ofc

cw warnings: riding, afab!reader, sex as payment, car sex, dad bods, pet names, unprotected sex (dont be silly, cover your willie), fat cocks, jackson healy and his stupid little rants, p in v, nipple suckling, brief spanking cause jackson loves ass, mentions of aftercare, horny fucks.

the forecast forgot to mention the abundance of moody clouds that doomed the sky. their tears hammering down on your head. you didn't prepare for this, you were overjoyed in the morning with the proposal of a jog. you didn't need your car to get to work, you didn't need your car to get back from work. the day was supposed to bloom with hues of blue and green, bubbling from every surface.

except the meteorologists must've not predicted anything right. read all of the signs wrong. here you were, sidewalk, thumb up, begging in the persistent rain for a stranger's commitment to kindness.

a 66 healy pulls up. the cream color molding in with the rain. you vigorously raise your thumb, bobbing it upwards repeatedly. just to catch his attention. it's a miracle when he pulls over, opening the door for you.

"thank you, thank you-" you're stammering over your own grattiude as you hop into shotgun. then you get a full view of the man. he's tall, you can tell that by his posture- he's bigger, scruffy, looks almost like the danger that follows you home on an empty street, but those eyes are soft. the smile is gentle and almost like grandma's homemade treats. though despite the bigger figure of the man, there's strength in his grip. his knuckles clutching tightly onto the wheel, his triceps peeping through only slightly through the tropical shirt he wore.

a deep laugh bellows from the man once he resumes driving, "no problem, where you headed?" like his laugh, his voice is even low. deep. like his facial hair, his voice is scruffy.

you smile, "home. two rights, then a left.. i didn't expect it to be raining today."

"don't think anyone did honestly, damn meteorologists. y'know- i always wanted that job. can be wrong every damn day and still make a good living. i'm just not good with.. science and that- crap."

his own vernacular slips from his curved lips in a homely fashion and it's clear to you that it embarrasses him. there's a flush on his cheeks, he wants to seem more proper to you. as if you should feel completely fine about being in the car, on a rainy night, with a stranger. a man, for that matter.

though his eyes widened slightly when you laugh, the flushed color on his cheeks wisping away, "my dad used to always say that!"

"dad's a smart fella then." he nods, his wipers squeaking just slightly. clearly the beaut of a ride isn't so creamy wheeling as the colors leads you to believe, "names jackson, jackson healy- and yours?"

you smile as you tell him your name before perking an eyebrow upwards, "healy? is.. that a reason why you bought this car then? an austin-healy?"

a small shrug complements another chuckle, "i guess so, yeah. jimmy-rigged it a bit though, had to for days like today. but i mainly bought it because of the look. it's classic- don't find many classics today, and this new generation wants to keep up with the minimalist colors. i wish people could still appreciate the beauty in color." with passion he drives more cautiously, eyes flickering over towards you. taking in the sight he didn't observe before.

though his rants translates into something more poetic for you. you've known the man, jackson, for nearly five minutes- or was it ten? in such a short time he was sharing concerns with you, leveling a conversation. it was magnetic. sure his outward appearance pulled you in, you liked the dad bod type, but now his words kept you there. this stranger had a force you just couldn't seem to halt.

"i like the classics too, a lot prettier. mustangs, my dad had one.. always my favorite. a green one too, i like that color."

"green is a nice color."

the car ride goes slightly silent. he's concentrated on the slippery road, not wanting to danger either one of you. the directions you provided him repeat in his mind. his turns are graceful, he slows down, he checks every which way, you see it through the stare in his eyes that safety is the most important thing to him. it only fuels your attraction.

it wasn't like the sun was out moments before, the rain dulled it away. though now it only seemed to be a memory, the dark sky implanted with foreign light screeching from posts down the street. flickering in their neglect.

"tell me which one it is, then i'll be on my way." the gentle air of his voice never deserts him, it sweeps you closer.

nodding, you wait till he reaches the small, narrow box you call home. his tires slip just a tad when he pulls into your driveway, he expects you'll be rushing out the door- eager to get away from the stranger.

"well, here's your place i guess."

a chuckle rumbles his body, you undo your seatbelt, but your door hasn't even been opened yet, "you really helped me out jackson.." you begin, voice almost sultry as you shift your body in order to face him better.

the words you hum force the flushed red color to return to his cheeks. there's an incantation in your tone, he's sure of it, "well it's not problem-"

you're biting your lip now, in that sex icon type way. a bombshell needing to show thanks, "still, you didn't have to do it.. i can pay you back-"

"no." he cuts you off instantly, his breath stuck in his own windpipe. his throat choked out by the thick atmosphere suddenly gassing his car, "you're sweet honey, but i don't need money, i like helping people out.."

it's your turn to cut him off, not with words, but just with a laugh, "who said i would pay you back in money?"

a gulp flushes out his entire flustered demeanor. it's a different man now, one in the driver seat for this conversation. a smirk plays out on his lips, the click of his seatbelt whisking away, "what thought have you got going on in that pretty mind of yours then, huh? you really gonna pay a stranger back, in sex? you don't know me, you barely know me." a predatorial gaze falls onto you, he sees you squirming in your seat. his words driving you mad. your breathing fills up the void, until he pats his thigh.

crawling over the armrest, you situate yourself into his lap. those big hands flock to your waist, already beginning to guide you into the rhythm of grinding, ensuring you feel the affects of your words.

"you're so hard," and you're already letting the man slide down your pants, fingers teasing the dampness slowly ruining your panties.

"my words get you all wet?"

only a stiff nod is given before his thumb drags over your bottom lips. when lips part, his thumb drags down the bottom one, all delicate. though his eyes find more amusement in watching the way yours so intently focus on each move of his. the way he then orders you to kiss him, through a migration of his thumb- down to your chin.

his lips are refreshing. they don't taste of casual smoke or a bottle of whisky. there's no pungent taste, only the refreshment of wannabe crooners and style. he's hungry, he's pulling you closer and a hand is already tugging down your panties. the taste of your tongue is leaving gold in his senses and he feels he needs more. gripping and groping every last inch of you. raising and lowering you. slipping a hand downwards just to feel what he's really done to you- index finger swiping your slick.

"you're so beautiful."

into your lips he mutters more compliments about your scent, your sweetness, he way you turn him on. your beauty, never calls you sexy however. never calls you hot.

with extreme reluctance you pull away, needing every breath you can get, "i need you, let me pay you back-" "fuck yeah, okay, okay.. okay princess." he's finding something to do in the means of lifting off your shirt, unhooking your bra. it's impressive, how swift he is with it. meanwhile you're undoing his jeans, unbuttoning that beach kissed shirt. you attempt to slip the shirt completely off of him, though he shakes his head. if there is a later- you'll ask him about that.

his cock is hard, needy. his tip engorged and dripping with precum. ready for you to rock him properly for payment, "c'mon princess." his encouraging words leave you sliding on top of him. letting his thick cock fill you out.

a groan flees from him in shock at how you didn't even ease into it. his hands migrate to your hips, nails digging into the supple skin, "good girl, such a good girl." after he bucks his own hips upwards, you begin to rock on him.

you start off slow, this time you're easing into it. moans already falling from your throat- begging. begging for yourself to go just a little faster, grow more accustomed to this heavenly sensation. groans fill the car, bouncing off of your pretty sounds. the ones he can't get enough of.

"you're already so good, you know that? so good, so good already?"

the encouragement prompts you to pick up the pace. careful rocks quickly turning reckless. you're attempting to feel every inch of him, squeezing his cock with pleasure. a hand lands a blow onto your ass, but it doesn't sting. it only accelerates the thrill. those moans raise in a pitch, stumbling over one another. a new sound emerges in the car, tangoing with the sinful audio from your mouth and his- the sound of skin slapping, hard. it's as if this will never happen again. every rock, the eventual bounces, they're all desperate. your nails dig into his broad shoulders, feeling his strength. adoring his strength. you want to speak to him, the words won't barge through.

similarly he tries speaking to you, but the low grunts and groans barricade any praises. the most he can do is continue to squeeze your ass cheek, sprinkling in a spank when he deems it necessary.

the sound of rain is drowned out by the payment of sex. with your back arched, jackson realizes he has a better view of your nipples. just to throw you increasingly off the edge, he leans in, suckling on one. swirling his tongue around the hardened bud, groaning against the sensitive skin. begging to feel you release your serendipity onto him.

"holy shit- holy shit what're you- what're you-" it's becoming too much. your hands leave his shoulders and find solace in gripping on tightly to his slicked hair. the premediated waves crashing from your unwavering grasp. victims to the way you pull whenever your bouncing forces his cock to hit a special, sweet spot of yours.

he's twitching now, you can feel it. it sends you into a flight, working overtime to feel every inch of him. losing yourself on his lap. it's hectic and he finds it amazing, heavy breathing and gasps bombarding his conscious.

"gonna cum- gonna cum, oh fuck.."

you do. it's heaven. the gates are in front of you when you are embraced by the enchanting kiss of an orgasm. cum coating his cock, remnants of the way you worked so hard.

"me too, princess, gonna- gonna give it to you-"

the severity of his own forces him to pull away from your suckled, swollen nipples. a string of saliva breaking down onto your breast. with force he takes brief, very brief control, and slams you down upon him. the biggest motivator for him to shoot his load inside of you was feeling you cum. that was enough for him. and an extreme turn on.

it feels otherworldly when you feel him unload inside of you. a stranger. filling you up with his hot cum. decorating your insides with arousing moments.

while trying to catch your breath, you two stare at each other. eyes looking for disapproval in each other. you don't find any. just satisfaction, and hints of longing.

amidst the gasps and beckons for air. helpless pants. the rain peeps through the windows, shattering every sense of urgency. tapping along the hood.

fingers trace circles on your back, gingerly grazing, "stay here for a moment."

[hoppingonjim]

Hi! Can you write a smut about Jackson getting a blowjob from reader in return to him beating up her stalker? Thank you!

summary: jackson helped you out, you've paid, but you know another way to show him appreciation cw: touch starved jackson, oral (m!recieving) afab!reader. sex in exchange (somewhat) for something else. dom!jackson healy. gagging & choking, swallowing, face fucking, readers a throat goat, jackson needs control.

note: i am so sorry if this didn't turn out how you wanted it to, i'm not the best at writing blow jobs although i do try.. if you want it redone i can certainly do that.

he was supposed to be on his way. the door was meant to be shut. his car was meant to no longer occupy the narrow driveway that belonged to you.

“you really helped me out mr healy, he couldn't stop bothering me.. now he is- i really do appreciate it. i want.. can i just-" you need to take a breath to fix up the right words, "i just .. i figured i could do something, maybe, to show you how much you helped me out.”

a saccharine tone is ringing in his ears now. it breathed curiosity into his lips, "you've paid me already." the ignorant man would laugh in your direction, a teasing shake of the head being gifted to you.

"let me suck your dick, mr healy."

the way he needs you is so much more than want. it's the way no hands have graced him since his ex wife. it's the way he cannot look at the collection of two playboys anymore due to boredom. and still the way he will never step foot into a store and ask for porn.

need is the only label he feels right with. you've backed him up against the wall. glossed wooden floors scrape your knees. he's finally about to feel need again, the pain is worth.

thick fingers interrupt the streams of tresses falling from your head. every wind delicate, intimate. licking his lips is the glass box for his nerves. the centerfold for worries, “you sure you want to do this? i haven't.. i might - cum - too soon. are you sure?”

the rasp registers sweetly in your ears, gravels a fine melody “that means i'm doing something right, mr healy. let me take care of you. let me repay you.”

for that moment he can only provide you a stiff nod. the soft stroking of your hair is put on pause for cautious grips of strand filled handfuls. nothing too hard, he doesn't want to hurt you. never before had he poured delicacy into his fists.

it isn't difficult for you to remove his jeans. the zipper isn't moody. collecting around his ankles, his baggy run jeans bunch in unison with his boxers. a deep breath as he comes to face the fact that he's exposed in front of you. your smile staring directly at his hard cock.

“darling,” he starts off, his voice hesitant but only slightly, “i.. can't take teasing. so you've gotta give mr healy something.”

that's enough for you. cherry stained lips wrap his tip gently. tightening carefully as one hand finds stability on his strong thigh while the other finds enjoyment in massaging his balls. the soft pink insides of your cheek envelope around his tip. ten years without affection towards his dick, and here you were, offering it up as an added bonus payment. like it was just nothing. his breathing no longer can uphold a smooth pace. by the milliseconds it grew bumpy. hitches lodging words in the barrel of his throat. the warmth of your lips deserts his tip for a brief moment until your tongue fills the void. swirling itself teasingly over his tip, brushing over the spilling precum.

where your mouth hasn't ventured your hands soon explore, he wouldn't whine about the loss of touch on his full balls. one hand begins to pump him with an increasingly tight grip. the strong man above you feels helpless against the wall, his head already tilting back as he battles with irises to stay applauding you. you've barely even touched him, you still have so much more to show him. pumping soon conjures into twists. each one abrupt before it becomes consistent. as much as you want to stay focused on his desperate cock, you'd rather flutter your eyelashes at the man above. the rugged man who's shaken hands with death too many times. brass and bruised. he swears to himself he can cum just by the exuberance of youth dashing around your pupils. the glint of mischief.

soon you made a show of swallowing the spit pooling in your mouth, opening wide to show off the glistening cock resting on your tongue to jackson, before your tongue wraps around and licks again, your eyes close for a moment to savor the taste, only to open again. eager as always. with your lips suctioned around his weeping tip you warm his thick cock. the very tightness leaves again, you're aching to just get the man a little wound up. again. you hold the suction till you leave his cock with a pop, returning back to the head to place a gentle kiss. a taunting one, nonetheless.

a low growl flees from his throat at the scene of you. his cock all red, head engorged in unfulfilled need. he doesn't want to be mean, but it's only slightly in his nature. and he falls victim again, “c'mon, don't tease me princess. just- just suck my dick. c'mon.”

how could a man go from warning you to begging?

with lips a sticky mess of spit and precum, you soon are smiling with half his cock stuffed in your mouth. where your mouth doesn't reach again you resume your pumping. each pump slow and wanting. your cheeks hollow as you begin to bob your head. a line of spit hanging recklessly from the bottom of your lip. jackson knows he can't be picky, but he needs more. he's got to have more. but your pumping quickens, the thought of his cum embellishing your taste buds an exciting one. the bobs quicken too, although you grow messier and less organized with each bob.

a scruff decorated jaw would fall leaving his mouth gaping. low groans are soaked up by the thin walls, surprising. the delicacy swimming in his hands dries up as desperation forces him to grasp. the gentle giant seems to be fading. a face etched with lines of fists displays a glare. inadvertently with his newfound tight grasp he pushes your head further down. the room jumps with the chorus of gags from you that follow, eyes already welcoming subtle ponds around the waterline.

but it feels so good. eagerly, you show him how fast you can suck him. beggarly you tighten your lips around his girth. jackson isn't a man of patience, he needs control. whines transcend into constant groans as he drags your head off his cock, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he witnessed your spit smeared lips growing puffier. then with no warning he shoves your head back down the length of his cock. all the way. you're unable to do anything but choke and welcome the lack of room in your throat. even his hips began to join in, savagely bucking themselves against you, introducing your throat rudely to his cock. it became a struggle to even breath, your nostrils flared wide.

he watched as your eyes became floods. mascara all ruined. slamming his cock into you over and over, the enforcer cradles your cheek in his palm. a thumb shakily casting aside stray hands of hair that fall from your disheveled ponytail. as your mouth lets his cock abuse your lips and throat, his thighs grow weak, trembling. as much as he hates it, he throws his head back. it doesn't take long before he's shooting his cum down your throat- but the thrusting halts. instead he uses a hand to strongly keep your head at the base of his cock, your gags and struggle to get some air in arousing him beyond belief, “that's it, be a good girl, take my cum. fuck yeah, take this damn cum. so good.. so fucking good to me.”

you're a good girl, and you swallow. his profanities fondling you as you take in all his release. throat coated in his cum. with gasps for any air you can get, you pull away. wetness painted on the inside of your thighs.

it takes him a moment for him to end his panting. the groans and growls waving goodbye to him once your mouth leaves his cock. softly, he adorns your cheek with his other hand, thumb grazing over the apple.

“you did so good for me.. so good. looked so pretty just now, choking on my cock. you like that? choking on mr healy's cock?”

the name you so often referred to him as haunts you, though you greet it with open arms, “i loved tasting you, mr healy.” collecting the mess of yourself, you stand up, still feeling like something close to prey beside him.

in a movement perhaps guised as loving, he pulls you in and houses your body within his arms, thick and brawny, ready to keep you by his heaving chest.

“no ones given me that in ten years.. maybe more- thank you holy fuck thank you.”

[hoppingonjim]

learning love again (i) - holland march

chapter one. summary: i really wanted to make a little fic about holland meeting his old love again and again throughout the course of his life. so here we go! cw: mentions of losing virginity, talk of america/political views of war, brief mentions of the vietnam war

she was eighteen when they met. and nineteen when the military swept him away. it was for america and back then she could understand, there was no higher pleasure for a man than dying with stars and stripes adorning his heart. there was no greater shame than hiding behind a borderline. 

a street lamp was the first time his eyes soaked her up. limbs crossed over, back against a void of color. with the eyes of bardot and the body of cardinale he swore he fell in love. did her mind possess curie? a streep lamp stalked above him as he inquired her for her name.

“mary.”

“that's my mom's name. that was also jesus' mom's name.”

“that's nice.”

the woman only gave a smile. eyes glanced upwards to the canopy that flickered above, “what's your name?” the boy would only watch for a brief second, fingering his pocket for a pack and lighter.

“holland,” soon a companion of a light screamed between them, making messy love to the stick suddenly dangling below his cupids bow, “my mom liked the country holland. so. now i'm named holland.”

“ah.” the closeness grew far. the repellence of smoke sniggering in her nostrils. until they flared, “i don't like people who smoke.”

in a matter of seconds the cigarette found the soles of his boot, “that better for you?”

a smile dressed itself in the light swirling above, “yes.” when her wrist grew itchy of her curfew she suddenly kept the distance between the two close, “i'll catch you later, okay holland?”

she was eighteen when he dressed her in a luxury menu. treated her eyes to the cul-de-sac of spaghetti. the vines and checkered table cloths that draped over glossed wood. an ambiance of gold and the adriatic.

“what's the cheapest thing on the menu?”

“you're not getting the cheapest thing.”

a crinkle popped from the furrowing of her eyebrows, quizzically she watched him, “what do you mean? it's not cheap here. i don't want to blow money..”

that sentence would see its hand once holland gave her a swooshed hand motion, “you're yapping. i'm paying. buy what you want.”

she was eighteen when he alleviated a confession with a staggering stutter.

“i t-think i l-love you.”

tangled limbs resting in limp sheets. joints deep in discombobulated slumber while the sun beckoned for a crowing rooster. navy coating her clothed back. navy encapsulating his matching boxers.

“think or you do?” her voice bore no volume. a mingling whisper.

“i do.”

“i do too.”

she was eighteen when he held a virgin in his arms, nineteen when his sheets were the last to feel virginity. nineteen and lonesome, she wore the title of his only companion. in those navy sheets roses fell scattered and trampled. his parents enjoyed their slumber next door as they made love, innocently. giving their minds over to passion and their bodies to the palm of the other. with moans waltzing with low groans, the gentle sun remained hushed. the sudden man snapped his hips, celestial bodies tuned into comic ballads. beethoven's symphony ringing out with every muffled crack that leaped from her voice. breathless and panting.

"holland, how are you not worried about- holland, oh my god you're inside of me- oh my god your dick is- oh-"

"doesn't it feel wonderous?"

the suns kiss on the wavering weeds outside stood a void from inside the window pane. and when she gave herself to him, and he found a climax, their bodies fell into one. the velvet curtain closing as the scent of diminished chastity grew thick. a question echoed about his first time and in came a lie. vulnerability husky under the guise. and while they tip toed under their new title to the washing machine he swore to himself his lips would never behold the truth. his virginity was washed up on those sheets too.

she was nineteen when home seemed like a good option. here was the time for picnic play of war to unveil a realistic shoulder. for little boys to mold into their mossed figurines. under a street lamp she found squalor plucked on her knees. the collection of rain fall staining a once stunning plaid hem. the velvet curtain withdrawing to the sight of her hands gripping onto the bulk of his jean clad thigh.

“stay, please-america will never know. just stay, stay?”

the girl he had assisted into transcending womanhood mirrored a child once more. breaking over. porcelain lips shattering with every deafening word. his own were lost on the train he was sure he would be taking. a mind heavy on decision and a heart torn with two sacrifices.

“i love my country mary, right now america needs to be my love.”

“will america remember if you die though? i will! i'll remember if you die! i'll remember your name holland, and your eyes.. america will call you lifeless and put you in a bin of meaningless men. just stay with me.. please.”

“get off the sidewalk mary.” a tone imitating the wading winds that croaked the downfall.

“you aren't being made to.”

“i'm staying with america, mary.”

“but i love-”

“go home mary.”

she was nineteen when she was thrown the pitiful ending with her knees soaking up abandoned down pours. the array of dusted water pooling around her once pure white dress. on the sidewalk she surrendered to fate with rain soaking her flag.

he was twenty one when he took a train. when he casted aside her letters that piled on his front stoop. distractions were something he couldn't tear himself from. on the train he sat with empty pads beside him, the others crammed ahead. their eyes gaunt at the faces of their weeping future widows. swallowing his affection, his eyes found his creased palms. still he felt blessed to feel her touch, to dance with streams of her stranded tresses. to guide her into the land of absolute pleasure he could grant. with a grumbling stomach he continued to feel full of home made mac and cheese. the only dinner she could properly serve. in his lips he could taste the entire year he knew her for. from when he questioned her identity to when he left her questioning his heart.

she was twenty one when she spotted a doppelgänger of the man she wasted pens on. where she discarded stamps.

“is that, holland?”

her sister, tall and eclectic, wondered aloud. her neck claimed by a dangling ring gifted by the man that had rang their doorbell numerous times in one week. all mary could remember about the man was that he was taller, muscular, his name was either jackson or jake- mary was unable to remember.

with a tense throat she glanced at the man who had clutched her butterfly heart in the creased palm of his hand before he'd drop the butterfly into a discarded moth. the man who ushered her thorned moans into his ears, the boy who made earnest love to her on navy sheets.

“no.. i don't- no..” a stammer pushed through. the sight of a scraggly man holding the mature hand of a golden decorated lady.

mary glanced down at her very own strands of hair. plain brown.

she was twenty one when she realized it indeed was the real man. the con artist bishop.

[hoppingonjim]

COLD ! jackson healy + holland march

summary: you're jackson's wife, and your mouth is warming his cock, holland is his business partner, and your pussy is warming his cock. #goclevelandbrowns

cw: cock warming of the pussy + mouth, mentions of lowkey prostitution??, poly-ish mentions/relationship, afab!reader, squint and you'll see a possessive jackson. sub!reader, dom!jackson, dom-ish!holland. oral-sorta!male receiving. penetration, brief mention of hard thrusting, manspreading, mockery, mentions of creampie, gagging, impact play!

note: thank you to (@bluthcoceo) for always being there when i need to get my feeling out about how much i wanna fuck jackson- this erupted from one of our convos a week or so back!

in a distant room of their building resides a mancave. That's where you're sucking your husband's dick while keeping his business associate's dick warm, also.

the games on, it's the browns against the rams, and frankly you couldn't care. you'd cheer for the browns, you like the underdog, it didn't matter if you were stationed in la.

what did matter was outside the north pole dropped in to remind you of the month. you couldn't recall a time of snow in la but now would seem like a sublime time to refresh your buffering memory. importantly, in the new office, they couldn't afford heat. holland realized too late that his jeans ran thin, and jackson realized that you sounded better than a jacket. or even a heater.

jim donovan hollers through the television until his velvet curtain is clamped by the distant mutters of the two frenemies.

jackson tilts his head towards you, the way you encapsulate his cock in your mouth. your gensority keeping him warm. holland can't keep his eyes away from your ass- don't get the man wrong, he isn't an ass guy, but your skirt is rolling up and it's sixty degrees out. goosebumps adorn your bare skin until they cease towards your pink thong. the one embroidered with the sweetly possesive j.h. don't get the man wrong- holland isn't an ass guy- but he just has to admire a bare as when he sees one. and so does his cock that strains against his jeans similarly.

suddenly the quiet mutters and collective ideas become louder and volumous, “pussy's warm holland, use your words and ask her. 'm sure she won't mind.”

you sprout up from comforting position of a mouth filled with dick, your eyes wide at jackson, “my pussy?”

a small tap of the roof of his mouth is heard before his finger is cruising down the highway of your jawline, “what other pussy is here baby? use those eyes of yours.”

it's slight mocking but you roll your eyes, you can feel your own heat begin to rise, “why are you talking about my, y'know.”

for the first time with you, that night, holland chimes in, “can i stick my dick inside of you-” a few complaints erupt from jackson due to hollland's phrasing, “it's fucking cold, i heard your pussys warm, help a guy out? i'll pay you..”

“my wife isn't a prostitute.”

“do you wanna be a prostitute?”

holland's strange question can only emit a shrug from you. a shrug that is followed by you engulfing jackson's cock once again. the larger man's fingers delicately brush away your hair from the beauty of your face, a faint groan rolling by when he's greeted with your temperate mouth. a finger even ghosting the cheek his tip bulges from. that's before a dainty pat is felt, a moan vibrates from your tongue to his slick cock.

without wasting a second holland finds himself unzipping your skirt to reach the level where he can slide your thong down, letting it fall on the floor without a care. haphazardly, his fingers work on his own zipper to bail out his aching cock. a tip engorged, red, and swimming in traces of precum, it's paradise when his jeans bunch at the beginning of his jointed knees. it's heaven when he's finally inside of your warm pussy.

holland bottoms out inside of your warm cunt. he's groaning quietly, nodding in the direction of his partner who continues to mindlessly comb your stranded wisps of hair.

this isn't new for you. it's practiced often with jackson during these cool nights, you don't grind yourself against his pulsing cock, or moan at the way you can feel little traces of precum coating your slit.

"she feels incredible, how long have you been keeping this from me?" the question floated from holland's lips as he continued to shift around, get himself extra comfortable for the game. his and jackson's legs an incantation of masculinity.

the scruffy chuckle bellowed from the man occupying your mouth, "bout a few months. pussy warm?"

a groan tangos with his possible response, "fuck yeah.."

in a few moments you find the feeling of holland's hands kneading your bare thighs to trickle down your senses. jackson's still hard in your mouth, over time drool slings to his balls from your mouth. holland lets you similarly feel his balls as he presses himself further into your slit.

then the game turned off, jackson's fingers reach to your chin once more, tilting your delicate head up, "is it okay if mr march fucks that pretty pussy of yours?" a small tap meets your cheek to decorate his words.

you muster out a nod, a mouth stuffed with cock.

"go ahead march, fill that pretty pussy up, look at her, she fucking wants it, go on, say it baby, say you want mr march to fuck you and fll you up."

with your attempts you soon find it's useless. every word you try to mobilize comes out destructed in garbles, muffled by his thick cock. but by the eager glint in the shallow of your irises, he knows your approval is existent.

"'s hard to talk when your mouth is stuffed with dick, huh baby?" another tap lands on your cheek, luckily it's still gentle.

holland isn't wasting time once it's aware that you've agreed. his balls are already learning to slap against your ass, crescents overtake your hips when he lazily slams you over, and over onto him.

"gonna, gonna fill her up jackson, gonna have her begging to stay full with my- fucking load.."

jackson can only smirk, a thumb grazing your cheek.

[hoppingonjim]

heLP i have a request for a jackson smut and i need to decide which one

[hoppingonjim]

guys pls give nice guys requests. i’ll take anything. please, i need to know what to write 😭😭