#mans is lettin it breathe

[bogor-o]

actually while ime still awake take this,,, I did more bunnysuit but for @kyoukorpse bc he got too many ideas on his plate so I told him I'd do this heehee :3

[bunny-jpeg]

"ex" husband

simon "ghost" riley

cw: pwp/smut, ex husband!simon, possessive!simon, dark themes, mirror sex & other smut, major red flags, proceed with caution, bad husband!simon, manipulation

bunny says: once you fuck crazy, you never not fuck crazy

simon didn't believe in divorce. he made a vow to be with you till death, he wasn't going to skimp out on the years you could spend together. he wouldn't accept that you wanted to be without him.

he had you on the floor of your shared bedroom, you were holding onto him behind yourself while his hands were on your hips. he was rubbing his cock up against your slick entrance.

"have you had any other guys over? fuckin' them in my bed, in my home that i paid for?" he held it over your head as he watched your face contort with pleasure. he continued to rub his tip up against your slit.

"no, simon." you panted. your heart raced with every moment that passed. your body was hot all over. "i haven't had anyone else, not since you." your pussy clenched around nothing in anticipation for what was to come. you were almost certain that your cunt was formed to the size of his cock.

"good, good. i don't want some fuckin' prick comin' to my home and fuckin' my girl." his voice was low as he got a hand between your legs and touched your clit with his rough fingers.

you arched your back and moaned out loud. you could be as loud as you needed to be. he kept his wife in a home far enough from everything that you could whimper and whine to your heart's content. your eyes fluttered closed as you felt the thrill of pleasure through your body.

"nothin' can have ya. no stupid asshole who thinks he can have what is mine. you made a promise, love. to be loyal to your husband." he growled as he gripped your jaw with his other hand and made you look into the mirror, "i don't think someone who wants to leave her husband would be lettin' him fuck her in their bedroom."

"simon, please." you whimper.

"nah, nah, love.' he said, accent heavier due to the immense lust in his body, "i was a good man to you. lovin', carin', did everythin' for ya. and you turn around like an ungrateful brat and try to leave me." his voice was getting deadly. his hand still held your jaw and his other played with your clit. you were stuck to him, "fuckin' slag. surprised you haven't fucked your way through the neighborhood to find a new man. because you'd never find one like me. or you're scared. scared i'd find him, and make him go missin'."

you swallowed, fear struck through you, "simon. i didn't sleep with anyone."

he buried his nose into your hair and groaned as his cock still prodded your pussy lips, "i know, i know. you don't actually want to leave me. your girlfriends got these thoughts into your head that i don't think are true. better without me? love, i made you."

you panted heavily, it was hard to look into the mirror with his hot words into your mouth. maybe he was right, maybe you didn't want to leave him. he had given you everything throughout your entire marriage. why would you sacrifice it?

he pulled his hand away from your pussy and guided his cock into your pussy. the stretch had you gripping onto him. the angle was awkward but he had you contorted to fit his pleasure.

"my good wife." he purred, "i'll always love you. even when you're not usin' that head of yours right. but don't worry." he kissed your cheek, "i'll always take care of my girl."

you held onto him as he thrusted into your from behind. you felt the air leave your lungs whenever he pushed into you. it was an intense feeling on your behalf. you had never imagined that fucking your soon-to-be ex-husband would feel so good.

"like that, love?"

you nodded meekly, "it feels good."

"that's a good girl." he groaned, "made perfectly for me. you are such a good girl for me, love. why would you want to go anywhere? stay with me, keep your vow."

your thighs quivered from the intense feeling of pleasure. your breathing was heavy and your head felt full. your heart leapt every time his cock nudged against a sensitive spot.

"please, simon. i can't be your wife."

"you can. and you will." he took you by the face and tilted your head back so he could kiss you passionately.

you melted into the kiss, as did the last of your resolve. your core throbbed with a need for him. he melted away all your problems. the more he fucked you, the more you wanted to stay with him.

he was your husband after all.

the sex between you two was hot and messy. it made you core soaked as he continued to bully his cock into your sweet cunt with every hard thrust.

"say you love me."

"i love you." you replied, your eyes hooded.

"good girl." he groaned, "i want to hear that every day until you can no longer speak." he licked across your bottom lip, "my good girl."

you whined as your body shook with each thrust of his hips. your pussy clenched around his cock. you felt your mouth to be dry and you voice strained.

simon loved taking you apart, only to put you back together. he continued to fuck you with abandon. he gazed at you with his nose in your hair as he thrusted up into you.

your noises were so cute, you really just were so small compared to him. you needed him! what were you thinking leaving him? you needed your big strong military husband to make sure that you were safe. don't be silly now!

he kissed your neck as he felt the surge of pleasure in his gut. his heart hammered with each every thrust. you were made for him. as he kissed the tip of your ear, he felt the blush that spread across your skin.

"please, simon."

"i got ya, love." he said, "i got ya." with a few more thrusts that hit in just the right place. you saw stars as you climaxed around his cock. his was soon to follow as his cum hit the back of your womb.

where it belonged.

as you rested your face on the carpet of the bedroom in an effort to cool down, simon grabbed your hips and started to thrust into you once more. his cock still painfully hard.

"you've done enough damage, love. so just sit there and let your husband take care of you." his voice was low and deadly. your best option would to just let simon do what he wanted.

-

"so mrs. riley. you've decided against the divorce. any particular reason why?"

you relaxed a little bit in the sleek office chair across the desk from your lawyer. your hand was on your middle as you smiled, "well, we're having a son soon, and he needs his father in his life. so i reconsidered."

"the case against your husband is fairly strong. broken locks on the door, his overly possessive behaviour, the text messages and voice mails, all of it. you could be granted a divorce quite easily."

you shook your head, "no need. we've worked it out." you smiled at the lawyer. you knew your simon was waiting for you in the car. his words echoed in your mind as you assured your lawyer that her services weren't needed.

you and simon were properly a family now. you didn't need to tear it apart. after all, how else were you going to end up with many little rileys running around?

[rsepetals]

pretty boy ren who just wants to devour you whole, literally. ♡ sucking your toes, biting you . . he’s soooooo pussy drunk over his cute little girlfriend. nsfw! minors do not interact or i’ll get you! this was supposed to be a short drabble, buttttt i got carried away. oops.

carnal.

𐙚

"renny, you gotta slow down!" manicured fingers feebly attempt to slow the man's cruel pace. choked sobs fall on deaf ears, calloused hands clinging to the back of your weak knees. pressing your legs back until baby-pink painted feet hang over his broad shoulders. eren's nothing short of fucking mean as he folds and squishes you against the car door, each fluid roll of his hips reverberating your head against the door with a thump. you can feel his fat cockhead scraping against your cervix. it hurts. and his hands are gripping you so tight you feel like you might break. he forgets how heavy he is, leaning all his weight onto you as he slides into your soppy pussy.

and despite how much it stings, you love it. you love him. every thrust brings a new wave of pleasure that makes your head spin. you can barely breathe, the air punched out of you every time he pushes in. salty tears stream down your face as you cling to the man for dear life. and just when you think he can't get any rougher, eren forces you even further against the car door. "stop runnin’ baby, you can take it.” the wet squelch of his dick sliding into you almost too embarrassing. your legs shake, pussy pulsing around his thick length. painfully, you're cumming. again. you don't know how many times you've cum at this point. eren drives you through it, groaning and muttering sweet words. the way he's fucking you, you'd think he was the one who just came. nails scratch against his sweaty back, body shuddering with the effort of keeping up with his brutal pace.

he slaps a hand against the car window, pushing off you and fucking his dick as far as he can into you. you feel him in your stomach, the slight bulge in your stomach a testimony. you mewl, legs trembling as the brunette continues to abuse your cunt. you're tired. everything hurts. "i know you're sleepy baby, just a little more. i-fuck, i swear." his words are barely intelligible, a string of curses, promises, and praises falling from his lips. the way his face contorts is beautiful. his eyebrows are furrowed, eyes screwed shut, and mouth hanging open as his thrusts grow sloppy. "oh my gosh," you're whimpering as he wraps his lips around your big toe, tongue swirling around the painted nail. the sensation is odd.

but it's not enough to deter your pleasure. if anything it heightens the feeling. the warmth that spreads through your body is overwhelming. your heat squeezing his cock, the muscles spasming as you cum again. he swears he could eat your pretty ass up. gently, pecking sloppy wet kisses on your feet, giving each foot the same attention. he kisses from the top of your toes to the golden ankle bracelet adorning your leg, you smell so good. "pretty as fuck," he's slurring, pussy drunk as he fucks you. you know he's close, the way he's babbling and whining.

eren has never been a biter, well, until tonight. he’s sinking his teeth into your calves as he holds your bottom half up, a poor attempt to stifle his moans. they were so loud they could almost drown out your own. you had never heard him so desperate before. your hips were moving on their own accord, rolling in tight circles and pressing back against him. he was desperate, and that only egged you on more. his nails dig into the soft skin of your thigh. “shittttt, my pretty baby lettin’ me use her sooo good.” his voice now cranked an octave.

the man is cumming shortly after. the feeling of your tightening walls pulling him to the edge. hot ropes of cum fill you. he pushes in as far as he can go, cock throbbing as he empties his balls. you can't tell what the hell he's saying anymore. his words are garbled, slurred together and almost incoherent. the only word you can make out is baby. it's a chant, the brunette calling you that over and over again. eren finally stills, his cock pulsating with the last spurts of his orgasm. the compact space is silent aside from the sound of labored breathing.

it's not until a few minutes later, after your heart rate has gone back to normal and your body isn't on fire anymore that eren slowly pulls his spent cock out of your pussy. cum leaks out, the pearly substance dripping onto the car floor. you feel so empty without his fat cock inside you. gently, he sets your feet back down on the car floor. he grabs his boxers off and wipes your leaking hole. the white fabric is covered in your juices and his cum. but he doesn't give a fuck, tossing it into the darkness. promising to clean it later. he tucks himself back into his sweatpants and looks down at you, eyes raking over your body.

his heart aches at the sight. puffy red eyes. a blotchy tear-stained face. pouty lips swollen from being bitten. a sheen of sweat covers your body, his fingerprints littering your waist. you look fucking ruined, and he can't help but smirk at the damage he's done. "erennnnn," you whine, reaching your arms out to him. the burly man obliges, his large body hovering over yours. "what?" his tone is teasing, lips pulled into a smirk.

"you gotta tell me what you want baby," you huff, brows furrowing. "you already know," you're pouting, arms still stretched out towards him. eren is smiling cheekily as he leans over, lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss. his fingers brush against your cheek as he cups your face, tongue swiping along your bottom lip. you moan into his mouth, sore body arching into his touch. "didn't know you had a foot fetish renny.” you tease against his lips, eren can't stop the laughter that falls from his lips, eyes are sparkling as he looks at you. flushed cherks and a grin on his lips. he really is so handsome. you're delirious.

"i don't," he kisses his teeth, "just love your feet."

[starkeyisthelastname]

We need trailerpark!rafe and reader doing anal for the first time

warning‼️ we all know he is very dirty

Rafe couldn’t believe the beautiful sight he had in front of him. He watched with hooded blue eyes as his fat cock slowly began sliding in and out your tight little untouched hole. His innocent babydoll was letting him fuck her in the ass for the first time and he couldn’t wait to really start pounding. Your sweet whines above pulled his attention back up to you, watching your small hands try and grab onto something. Poor thing. “Sugar, keep runnin’ from me and it’s gonna fuckin’ hurt.” His voice rough.

You were completely fucked out, getting your little asshole reamed by his thick cock. You couldn’t even form words, pathetic babbles leaving your mouth instead as he thrusted harder. “S-such a good fuckin’ girl lettin’ me teach ya how to get fucked in the ass.” He rasped out, his large hands squeezing your fleshy hips.

Your pretty moans only grew increasingly louder throughout the old trailer as the funny feeling he always gave you came to your tummy. Your cheeks were flushed, and breaths were quick the rougher he got with you. “D-daddy!!!” You mewled, your drooling cunt clenching around nothing as your orgasm started washing over your sweet self. “I’m cumming…I’m cumming…” You mumbled, thighs shaking as he continued to stretch your tight little asshole out.

“My sweet babydoll loves dick in her ass now doesn’t she?” He asked with a dark laugh, slowly pulling out to see the damage he had done. You were not usually one for being bratty as Rafe got even more mean and you never wanted to be bad for him. But, the feeling of your hole now being empty made you let out a loud huff. “P-put it back in.” You pleaded, looking back at him with big eyes as you batted your long lashes.

The way he had you learning all his filthy ways, being a good little obedient trailer park slut for him had his cerulean eyes flashing dark. Wrapping a hand around his length, he slid it in your puckered hole without warning only to watch your mouth fall open. “You are just a good little slut for me, ain’t you? Do anything I fuckin’ ask and let a dirty man like me ruin your holes.”

[cameronsprincess]

p!link thinking of… older!rafe cameron fucking you in a bar bathroom.

CW: public sex, age gap, unprotected piv sex, hair pulling, degrading, older!rafe, confident!reader.

daydreams

from the moment you made eye contact from across the bar… you knew you needed just a taste of him. he was definitely older than you— maybe mid to late thirties — but older had always been your type. you couldn’t help but go and talk to him, make your move and hope he’s just as horny as you..

aaaand that’s how you ended up in your current position… bent over the counter in the men’s restroom of the bar you were at, the older man— who you now know by the name of rafe cameron— ruthlessly pounding his cock into your slick, tight cunt.

“goddamn you feel so fuckin’ good, such a little fucking slut, lettin’ the older man you just met get you drunk and fuck you in the bar bathroom, yeah? say it! say you’re a fucking slut who loves to be fucked.”

his long, thick cock pushing in and out of you at a brutal pace had your mind fuzzy, your entire body on fire with each thrust of his hips. the swollen head of his cock hitting at your g-spot has you moaning loudly, lifting onto your toes.

“ffffuck… i-i’m a.. i’m a slut who loves to be fucked!”

his large palm slaps at your ass, the smack ringing through your ears and making your pussy clench around his length. he places one hand in your hair, wrapping the loose strands around his palm before tugging you back, pulling your back flush against his front.

he dips his head down, his lips so close to your ear. the warmth of his breath against your ear as he whispers has your entire body shuddering, “that’s right, sweetheart. you are a fucking slut. lucky for you… i love good little sluts.”

his words have your pussy clenching, that warm euphoric feeling rushing through your body as you near your orgasm.

“gonna cum all over this pretty little ass of yours, sweetheart. you want that? wanna wear my cum on your ass?”

a whimper escapes you as his thrusts pick up in pace, the sounds of your wetness and skin slapping skin as he pounds his cock inside you fills the small bathroom. the red lights that glow on the ceiling begin to blur as tears fill your eyes.

“y-yes. please?” you breathe out, the intense pleasure growing in your belly. you’re close, and he is too.

his thrusts grow sloppier and you feel his dick swell inside you, twitching before he pulls out. he releases your hair, letting you slump forward against the counter. his low grunts fill the bathroom as he jerks his throbbing cock, pushing himself to release his warm cum on your bare ass.

i’m actually not proud of myself with this, but oh well🤠

[hellishjoel]

wild like the west

3.3k / pairing: cowboy!joel miller x cowgirl!reader

main masterlist | notifications blog

summary: joel and his cowgirl warnings/information:  MA 18+ (minors DNI), implied but unspecified age gap, joel is technically reader's boss (so power dynamic stuff), swearing, dirty talk, pet names (baby girl, brat, etc.), unprotected p in v, pussy pronouns, asphyxiation kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, clean up on aisle reader's stomach, reader is described having hair but otherwise (I believe) reader is a blank slate, no use of y/n, barely edited A/N: I unfortunately have not stopped thinking about a game joel miller x yellowstone crossover, and I feel like he would like this to be his long, happy life. I also haven't written for joel since may which feels like a sin! sorry baby!

It doesn’t matter how many ass bruises you get, or the pain of repeated thrashes to your knees from getting bucked off; this unruly horse will bend its spirit to your will. 

Half the job of purchasing new horses for the Miller Ridge Ranch is breaking them in like a pair of new shoes. 

Any cowboy, or for you, cowgirl, knows that a horse can sense your personality and fear from a mile away. If you sprout fear, it won’t trust you to be the guide on its back. It’s a mutual thing to trust one another. It’s the trust Joel thrust upon you after loyally working at the ranch for a handful of years. Sure, you were young, but you had a good head on your shoulders.

He perches his cowboy boot on the low fence rail, teeth gnawing at a toothpick as he watches you with careful eyes. The morning dew settles over the long grass and tall trees, untouched by man, fostered by nature. With the sun clawing at the horizon, the land turns from a pale blue to a beaming orange glow.  It’s beautiful here, peaceful. You imagine this is the life that Joel always wanted, craved. He’s not from around here, he’s got too much Southern twang to be from these northern Montana woods. 

Life guided him up here and he never turned back. 

You can feel the horse grow agitated under your haunches, whinnying with anxiety as it takes a few rough steps backward in the ground-up dirt. 

“S’okay, boy, take it easy, easy,” you coo in a gentle voice that lets the horse breathe through its panic. You grip the colt’s mane at the very base of his neck, right by the horn of your saddle, gently scratching that sweet spot that seems to bring him some tranquility.

You’re the only one who seems to calm these beautiful boys. 

“You got a habit of gettin’ in’ta trouble before it even knows to start lookin’ for ya.” Joel’s southern drawl rumbles deep from his chest, stepping into the training ring and crooking his first two fingers in your direction. 

“I got it, Joel,” you say insistently, guiding the horse by a little squeeze of your boots to its belly in Joel’s direction. 

“Know ya do.” Joel stops at the horse’s chest and pats its neck, large and calloused hand stroking down its coarse mane as he stares up at you, squinting from the morning sunlight. 

His eyes are starkly brilliant in this light, typically a dark brown, now a glowy amber under the brim of his black cowboy hat. “You know that part of learnin’ how to be a cowboy is lettin’ them break in their own horse. Hop down.”

A sigh leaves your parted lips as you unhook one boot from the stirrups and throw yourself off. Taking the reigns, you walk with Joel back to the main fence. 

“You’re too nice to ‘em. I hired you to be a bit more…” He pauses indefinitely, tilting his head.

“Ruthless. I know.” Your eyes connect, both hardened after years of this long life. One day of being a cowboy felt like a year at any other job. 

The plan was plain and simple, a route you’d taken a hundred times with a crew that changed on and off for the past couple of years. The cattle were in need of fresh resources, lush grass to graze on, and streams of pristine crystal water. Up through the valley they’d go. 

The cowboys and cowgirls were gathered on their horses, Joel sat atop his beautiful black mare, eyes piercing his crew even behind his tinted sunglasses. Any season besides summer in this state demanded thick, warm work wear. Joel adorned a chocolate brown Carhartt and thick denim jeans under old, worn-out brown chaps. 

“I want Wyatt and Jack to take front, Bo and Sadie, swing, Jess and June on the flank, Tucker and Sammy on the drag. Wear your bandanas, it’s gonna get dusty back there,” your eyes flick up to a string of confused faces, “any questions?” 

“Why do we have to go through the valley? We’d have to push hundreds of cows through open water,” Bo mutters, disdain for a woman making all these choices for him, perhaps. 

“Yeah, n’I can’t swim. Never learned.” Another pipes in. 

“Then you’re a goddamn idiot,” old man Wyatt gurgles up a chuckle. Wyatt has been a cowboy longer than you have been alive. He raised you up to be tough with a streak of kindness that could never be washed away. He gives you a tight nod of reassurance as you sigh weakly. 

All this tomfoolery seems to be a bit much for Joel’s taste. “She’s takin’ questions about the plan, not your ‘pinions on it. I tell her what to do, she tells ya’ll what to do. You question her, you question me. So do as she says, or you answer to me.”

Joel’s always had a tight hand on the crew. He intimidates them. He is their boss, after all. They have a problem with you or this ranch or anyone else, they answer to him. Joel takes off his sunglasses and narrows his eyes on Bo, the newest cowboy with a pretty big mouth on him who bucks just as bad as your new colts. And his dead eyes are set on you. 

The rest of the crew sets off towards the direction of the cattle herd, everyone except Bo. 

Your head jerks upward in his direction, your own eyes narrowed. “You wanna say somethin’?” You ride alongside Bo, who seems to be wrestling with his stupid thoughts. But before he gets a chance to say anything, Joel intervenes. 

“Got a fight in you? It starts an’ ends with me.”

Bo looks between both of you, simply scoffing before he backs his horse off and trots along towards the crew. 

The view from the top of the valley is beautiful, all yellow and golden, with a pale blue sky and tall trees that harbor the secrets of the forest. Joel used to tell you it would whisper to him, warn him. Your chestnut-colored horse stands tall next to Joel’s, and both of you are overseeing the herd and the crew working together. 

“Not as bad as I thought this was gonna be,” Joel mutters, turning his head in your direction. You’re unrecognizably quiet. He’s never known you to be so still. 

He watches as your fingers anxiously twirl your horse’s mane. “You undermine me in front of them, and they don’t respect me, Joel.” 

So that’s what got you so stiff. He takes in a deep breath of mountain air, crossing his wrists over the horn of his saddle and glancing over at you out of the corner of his eye. Your hair blows in the wind, gentle and flowing. Almost graceful if it wasn’t in this wild west. Your beauty was city beauty, he was surprised you ever found your way out here. 

“Bo’s as green as grass. He needs to learn not t’talk to you like that. And if he needs to learn from me, so be it.”

Keeping your lips zipped, your eyes scan the points that use the dogs to guide the herd in the right direction. The swings and flanks work the mid to back-mid to maintain movement, and the drags stationed at the back ensure that any loose stragglers keep up. 

Joel rolls his eyes and sighs, reaching his hand across to your horse’s reigns, keeping your horse tucked to his side. 

“C’mon, Cowgirl. Spit it out.” 

“You go about defendin’ me, it looks like we’re sleepin’ together,” you gripe, “and I don’t need our crew slingin’ the slander that I got my job fuckin’ the boss. I don’t want that shit, Joel.”

Joel shifts his jaw from side to side, silent as he usually is. His tongue muscles over the right words, the words that will settle that ball of uncertainty you have nestled in your gut. 

He settles on the truth. 

“We are sleepin’ together.” 

Shaking your head, you steal your reigns back from Joel and gently nuzzle your boots against the horse’s underbelly. “Well, maybe that should end.” 

Joel watches on with a small smirk as your horse is set in motion down the grassy hill. He shouts loud enough for his voice to carry down from the high ground. “You set those boys straight, or I’ll have to keep doin’ it for ya.”

You sling back your middle finger in his direction, both of your horses riding side by side now as you follow the crew through to the valley. 

Joel sighs upon entering his large, private cabin, resting his cowboy hat to air out on a hook by the front door. His clothes wreak of his musky sweat, and the shower calls his name. He walks stiffly. Joel’s thick thigh muscles are as strong as iron from riding his horse, and his back cracks each time he inhales.

But he can’t deny that this life was made for him. 

Training to be a carpenter, earning pennies on the dollar to work in the hot Texas sun, and for what? Building someone else’s dream property? He had his own dreams. 

The ranch was his dream.

He always had a profound appreciation for nature and the outdoors. 

Fuck the city, fuck car horns honking obnoxiously, fuck the traffic. He found more fulfillment in listening to the wind flutter through the trees and would much rather hear the moos of his cattle than impatient commuters at six in the morning. 

Plus, he’s never felt more free or independent. This was his land, and he made the decisions on how it was run. Hiring the sassy cowgirl from the metropolis just happened to be a nice bonus on lonely nights when there wasn’t much left to his whiskey bottle, and the ride into town was more than twenty minutes for a new one. She sated him all the same, better, even.  

Despite years of riding and wrangling, you’re so fucking soft. You have soft eyes, a pretty voice, and satiny thighs. Your lips are plush against his weathered ones, and you don’t seem to mind sitting in his lap with his rougher-than-barbwire hands feeling over your body. 

But in turn, you’ve made a little soft spot in his wild like the west heart of his. And he swore he’d never settle down; you seem to have the same intentions. 

Things were easy. Nice and easy. Almost routine. 

The bunkhouse would be busy with cowboys and cowgirls playing card games, drinking their beers, singing to the music on the radio, and talking nonsense. You’d slip out after dark and wind up upstairs in his bed. 

He recalls you saying something about how his bed is more comfy than the ones in the bunkhouse. 

“Whatever you say, darlin’.” 

Tonight was no different. Fresh from his shower with a towel secured low on his waist, he hums curiously at the sight of you sprawled out across his bed. No more than a minute later, you are tugging it loose from his frame and letting it pool around his ankles. 

“Thought you said you were done,” Joel muses with a hint of teasing. You sit up from the bed on your knees and wrap your arms around his broad trap and shoulder muscles. 

“I ain’t a quitter,” you mutter against Joel’s mouth, feeling his tongue glide along yours as he explores you freely. 

He sheds your clothes, feeling your freshly showered skin and hair under his rough palms. He can’t help but touch you like you’re his, like he owns you. But no man can possess the wind. 

You kiss as he slips you under the bed’s cool sheets, drunk on the way you move so pliantly under his guidance. His lips move to the slope of your neck, his greying whiskers scratching your skin before he washes over the irritation with more kisses. 

Joel’s hands slip between your legs, cupping your clothed center in one hand. Your eyes light up at the friction, mewling up a moan of his name as he massages over the wet spot growing on your panties. 

“She’s already soaked, darlin’. You been thinkin’ ‘bout this?” Joel muses, sitting up properly to peel your shirt off your body, two fingers curling around the hem of your panties and chucking them mindlessly on the floor. 

“Joel,” you whisper breathlessly as he’s about to slip down between those pretty legs of yours. 

“What?” He asks, damn near annoyed. 

“I can’t wait,” you beg breathlessly, his eyes meeting yours. “I-I can’t, I’m beggin’ you, please. It’s been a long day.” 

Joel sighs but ultimately nods. It’s not what he wants, but sometimes you both need a quick fix. 

Joel’s body parts your legs, a grunt escaping the depth of his throat as he ruts his hips against your own. 

“Good idea,” he mutters against your mouth, leaning down and distracting himself with your kisses as he lines his length up and down your soaking center. 

You sharply inhale as he enters and the sound is music to his ears. He feels your nails carving into his back muscles as he sinks himself in deeper deeper deeper, both of you panting with eagerness by the time his hips are flush with your own, lost in where you end and he begins.

You let out a string of moans as he reels himself back, only to return to your depths with a snap of his hips that releases a shrill whine of his name from your throat. His forearms are buried in the fluff of the pillows on either side of your head, forehead against forehead, his hips grinding against you now. 

The friction is enough to make your head spin. You can feel the coarse hair of his happy trail tickling your already anxious pearl. 

“Fuck,” you huff out, letting your hands slip down his back, knowing that if you want him to pick up the pace, you’ll have to ignite his fire. In one quick movement, your hands drag themselves up Joel’s back, your nails creating etched lines that raise red once you finish at the very tops of his shoulders. 

Joel releases a long, low groan in response as his eyes snap open to meet yours. The sting of pain creates heat along Joel’s spine. His jaw is wound tight as he brings his large hand to wrap around your pretty throat, thumb on your chin to force you into staring straight at him. 

“Such a goddamn brat,” he growls, adding pressure to the column of your throat as he begins to pound into you harder and harder with each thrust of his hips. You cry out his name, a cacophony of your panting moans and your slick squelching against his hips fill your ears. The ecstasy of losing just a smidge of air is enough to make your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

He’s obsessed with the way your eyes gloss over in lust, your body jerking up the bed with each powerful thrust he gives you. Your mouth hangs open, gasping for air that’s just out of your reach. 

“You take it, baby girl, you keep takin’ it. She’s so fuckin’- goddamit, so fuckin’ good for me,” he pants, feeling the warm air dissolve against your skin as Joel begins to swell fatter inside of you. 

Perfectly slick and warm, he loses himself in your pussy. You squeeze and choke him, his orgasm only building as you whimper how good he feels. 

“Holy fuck, Joel, please please please, right there, ohmygod you’re gonna make me-” you gasp, your back arching off the mattress as you grip onto his forearm that’s still holding your delicate throat, your other hand gripping the hair at the nape of his neck. He knows to squeeze a little harder as you fall apart, the euphoria of the combination sending you over the edge. 

Joel’s holding on for dear life, always focused on putting you first, always trying to prove your jokes of him being an old man wrong. But he can’t deny he’s nearly finished twice now, your pretty cunt all nice and warm for him. 

What’s wrong with pushing you over the edge a little?

Joel abandons the hold on your throat as you still are witnessing the aftershocks of your orgasm, his two thick fingers circling over your swollen clit. 

Joel smirks as your eyes snap open, your jaw dropping wide as you silently scream in pleasure. He nods sadistically, smirking as he overstimulates your already twitchy clit.

“You’re gonna give me another, right here, right now,” Joel grunts, stilling his hips as he’s buried to the hilt inside you, feeling your pussy clench around his cock as your gasps and strangled moans fill the room. 

“Fuck, Joel I don’t think I can,” you cry out, bracing the wrist of the hand that’s still working figure-eights around your pearl. Joel watches as your chest rises and falls quickly, nipples at peaks as you continue to clench repeatedly around his cock. 

 “Know you can, baby, cum on this cock again. You’re a strong cowgirl, ain’t’cha? You been thinkin’ ‘bout this all day, getting this pretty girl drilled by me, know ya have.”

And he’s right. Shamefully so. Denying Joel looks good in and out of his cowboy attire is just nonsense. The way he rides his horse with his thighs snagged tight around its middle, gnawing on his toothpicks to ward off the need to smoke a cigarette or chew; at this point, it’s everything that he does that turns you on. 

And maybe that’s why it’s so easy to give him a second one. 

Your nails pierce into his skin as your hands grip his biceps, mewling and moaning something wrecked, feeling the warmth gather deep in your belly once more. 

“Keep fuckin’ me, I didn’t say to stop,” you pant.

Joel disguises his laughter by meeting your lips with his own, giving you messy kisses that taste better than perfect ones. His hips and fingers work in tandem to force you over the edge. You’re shaking under him, your thigh muscles twitching with excitement, legs wrapping around his middle as he grows closer to his own finish. 

Just as he feels like he’s going to give way, he can feel your pussy clenching around his aching cock, his tip brushing so perfectly against that spongy spot that sets your insides alight. 

“Fuck,” he grits, ripping himself loose of your perfectly wasted cunt as he yanks over his length. One, two, three more times, and he’s spilling warm spend across your belly. The pretty splatters are like a Jackson Pollock. He stares in awe at how pretty you look getting finished on. 

The bed dips as he falls into place beside you. He doesn’t lay idle. He reaches for some tissues from his bedside table, politely wiping away his mess as you stare at him with lustful eyes. You were so fucked out. Sorta cute. 

“Quit,” he mutters, avoiding your eyes. 

“You ain’t as old as I thought you were.” You whisper, a smirk tugging on the corners of your mouth. 

Joel chuckles softly at your familiar tease. He's heard it countless times, but it never ceases to make him roll his eyes and pull you closer to him. He kisses your forehead affectionately, his voice carrying a hint of playful banter.

“You gonna keep remindin' me about my age every chance you get? Don’t stop ya from comin’ back each night.”

You lay your head on his chest and listen to his heart thump. 

Joel’s got one arm slung around your shoulders, the other on your thigh that’s draped across his middle. His strong hand works slowly into your tired muscles. You play with the greying curls on his chest, taking note of the dark, nearly black ones still speckled throughout. 

“Goodnight, old cowboy.” You say, patting his chest, hearing his slow laughter rumble from his chest. 

“G’night, pain in my ass.” 

main masterlist | notifications blog

[sbcdh]

"You're a pervert."

"I'm sorry?"

"Your brain. It's tens of thousands of tiny cocks and holes fucking each other in a line. Take a deep breath and hold it, it's a neurochemical orgy busting a million little nuts an hour. There's no bottom buddy. It's cocks all the way down."

"Sure."

"Sure. Fuck off. Pervert. That's all you are. Youve never been on the rough stuff."

"Pervert? You keep using that word."

"Yeah. Pervert. You like to watch. World is full of people fucking each other. That's the whole economy. Our great nation. Just a bunch of dicks and holes and eyeballs takin' it all in. It's nervebag shit. Weighing your options, thinking about the future. Opportunity cost. Shit makes me hurl just thinking about it. You know why? You're edging yourself big man. Letting those nerves run hot. So, so hot. But you're not buying. Just lettin' em sit there, idling right on the runway. Blast off, Major Tom. Live a little."

"I will take that into advisement."

"Rough shit."

[nemo-writes]

𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝖿 141 𝗁𝗎𝖻𝖻y 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗄𝗂𝖽(𝗌) 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝗂𝖼 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗈𝗇𝗌 ; 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝗇𝖾 ── .✦

masterlist

── .✦ 𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗌𝗍 ; "𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋."

you’re in the kitchen, halfway through wiping down the counter, when the unmistakable ding-dong of the doorbell chimes through the house. not even a second later, there’s a series of sharp, almost aggressive knocks—thud thud thud—the kind that screams authority.

you don’t flinch. you know who it is.

from the living room, your son—a chubby little thing with a wobble to his steps and a belly that strains his tiny shirt. “dada! paw-paw!” he squeals with glee as he toddles to the front door like it’s the gateway to the best surprise ever.

you glance out into the hallway and, sure enough, there’s your husband looming behind the glass pane. he’s in his trademark mask, black and imposing, arms crossed as if he’s inspecting a breach. for someone knocking on a suburban door, he’s got the presence of a man leading an op.

your son, thrilled to pieces, presses his hands and face against the door, smudging the glass. “dada!”

on the other side, simon tilts his head slightly and points at the handle with a slow jab of his gloved finger.

“oi,” his mancunian drawl rumbles through the door. “open the door proper. c’mon, you know how.” he points again, voice firm but somehow patient. “handle. go on, then.”

your son grabs the door handle with all the determination of a kid on a mission. his little tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth as he pulls it down, and the door finally creaks open just a smidge.

and then your husband moves.

before your son can blink, simon reaches through the crack, grabs the front of the boy’s shirt—not roughly, just enough to yank—and hauls him up like he’s a piece of luggage.

“gotcha,” simon announces, his voice low but laced with just a hint of smug satisfaction. your son’s giggle erupts like a firework as he dangles in mid-air, limbs flailing with giddy excitement.

“you’re laughin’, mate?” simon asks, deadpan under the mask, holding your son just in front of his chest. “that’s not funny, you daft little thing. stranger knocks on your door, and you’re lettin’ ‘em in? what’re you thinkin’?” he gives him a little shake—not enough to scare him, just to punctuate his point—and your son’s delighted squeal fills the air.

you’re doubled over in laughter at this point, tears pricking your eyes as you lean against the wall for support. “simon, he’s two. you grabbed him like a rogue operative!”

your husband turns slightly, his masked face angled toward you. “yeah? he’ll remember next time, won’t he?” he looks back at the boy, who’s now practically vibrating with joy. “you lettin’ strangers in your house, lad? that how it works?”

“dada!” your son cries again, trying to clap his hands together despite still being held mid-air.

simon grumbles as he sets the boy down on the welcome mat with a soft thud, kneeling so they’re eye-level. “right. lesson one: don’t open the bloody door unless your mum says so. you got that?” he points a gloved finger at the boy’s chubby belly for emphasis.

your son responds by grabbing simon’s finger with both hands, his whole face lit up in pure joy. “paw-paw!”

simon freezes for half a second, caught off guard by the name before muttering under his breath, “...i’m not your paw-paw, you little menace. i'm a stranger, a bad man."

you snort so hard you nearly choke. “oh, come on, love. he’s trying his best!”

“trying? he’s a menace,” simon shoots back, though there’s no mistaking the affection under the gruff tone. he stands up, brushing his hands off like he’s just completed an important mission. “fine. lesson’s over. next time, i’m bringin’ a lock and some bricks for this door.”

“dada!” your son calls out yet again, his little voice bright and sweet, as he waves a tiny hand at him.

with a sigh so deep it seems to come from his soul, he stops just in front of you, head tilted down at the boy, eyes crinkling slightly under the mask as he studies the wiggling child. without a word, he raises a hand and hooks his fingers under the edge of his mask.

slowly, he tugs it off and shoves it into the pocket of his jacket, revealing that sharp jawline, the stubble along his chin, and—most of all—those softer eyes that never quite match the ghost everyone else knows.

“come here, then,” simon says, his accent soft, as he steps closer and reaches for his son. his large, gloved hands are careful as he takes the boy from your arms and settles him against his chest.

your son immediately tangled his pudgy fingers into simon’s hair and patted his face like he’s inspecting it.

he huffs a quiet laugh, the corner of his mouth twitching upward into something resembling a smile. simon lets the boy tug on him a little more, his patience seemingly endless as he cradles him securely in his arms.

you can’t help but grin as you watch the two of them—simon, all six-foot-something of intimidating soldier, holding this chubby little bundle like he’s something precious. “so much for teaching him a lesson, huh?”

your son then leans forward to smush his face against simon’s stubbly cheek, a sloppy kiss of sorts that makes him snort softly.

“oi,” simon mutters, his tone gentler than you’ve ever heard it. “you’re lucky you’re cute, lad.” he pauses, pressing his forehead softly to the boy’s. “don’t you forget—doors stay closed ‘til your me or mum says otherwise, yeah?”

your son beams at him, blissfully unaware of any “life lesson,” already prepared for the next round of ghost-approved fun.

── .✦ 𝗌𝗈𝖺𝗉 ; "𝗇𝗈 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾."

you were just inside for a few minutes—just long enough to grab some snacks and a drink, trusting your husband to keep an eye on the boys. the backyard had been peaceful when you left, the twins chasing each other around while johnny sprawled out on a nearby chair, keeping a lazy but watchful eye on them.

then it happened.

the unmistakable boom of a small explosion rattled the windows, sending your heart straight into your throat. snacks forgotten, you practically flew toward the back door, skidding to a stop as you threw it open.

the sight that greeted you? absolute chaos.

johnny stood in the middle of the yard, holding both boys���one squirming under each arm—while a tiny, controlled fire smoldered on the grass nearby. bits of scorched dirt and debris dotted the area, evidence of a hasty but clearly deliberate detonation.

“right, lads!” johnny declared, his voice carrying that unmistakable scottish lilt as he adjusted the wriggling toddlers in his grip. “see that? that’s what happens when ye mess wi’ fire!” he pointed with exaggerated emphasis toward the remains of the explosion, his tone somewhere between a warning and a showman’s enthusiasm.

your sons, however, didn’t seem to be taking the lesson in stride.

instead of being appropriately terrified—or even mildly concerned—they were cackling.

the twin on johnny’s left wiggled furiously, laughing like this was the best game in the world. “boom!” he shouted gleefully, pointing toward the fire with chubby fingers.

the other one wasn’t any better. “fire!” he yelled, his high-pitched giggle ringing out as he made a valiant attempt to lunge from his father's grip toward the smoldering patch of earth.

“whoa now, none o’ that!” johnny barked, hauling the second twin back before he could escape. “what did I just say, eh? fire’s no’ for wee bairns like you!”

but his lecture fell on deaf ears. the twins, emboldened by their father’s antics and utterly thrilled by the explosion, began squirming even harder, each of them trying to wriggle free. johnny was quick, though, catching them every time they came close to slipping his grasp.

you finally found your voice, leaning against the doorframe for support as you tried to process what the hell was going on. “john mactavish! what in the world are you doing?!”

he turned to you with a sheepish grin, still clutching your wild, laughing children. “teachin’ ‘em a lesson, love!” he called, gesturing toward the charred ground with his chin. “see? controlled detonation—perfectly safe.”

“safe?” you threw your hands up, incredulous. “you just set off an explosion with toddlers watching!”

“aye, and now they know!” he argued, as if that was a perfectly logical explanation. he hoisted one of the twins higher on his hip as the boy reached for the fire again. “oi! no. look but don’t touch. lesson one o’ demolition—respect the flames, or they’ll bite ye!”

the twin let out a shriek of laughter, kicking his legs. “boom, boom!”

the other one giggled in agreement, trying again to squirm free. “again, daddy!”

“again?” you gaped at him. “johnny, they’re trying to run toward it! this isn’t a lesson—it’s a game to them!”

johnny groaned dramatically, letting his head fall back for a second before leveling a serious (well, semi-serious) look at the boys. “right, that’s it. we’re tryin’ again.” he crouched down, planting the squirming twins on the grass but keeping a firm grip on the back of their shirts.

“now listen here, you two,” he began, his voice low and serious as if speaking to a couple of recruits. “fire’s no’ somethin’ to mess about with, aye? you get too close, and poof! you’re singed. nobody wants to be singed, do they?”

both boys, completely ignoring the gravity of the situation, burst into another fit of giggles.

“no, daddy!” one of them squealed, pulling at his shirt to try and escape.

johnny growled playfully, dragging him back by his collar. “oh no ye don’t, lad. not toward the flames. away. away, i said!”

the other twin took advantage of the distraction to make his own break for it, toddling determinedly toward the still-smoldering patch of grass. johnny however was faster, swiftly catching him with one arm and hauling him up like a sack of potatoes. “caught ye, ya wee rascal! you think I wouldn’t notice?”

you couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of the scene. “johnny, they’re laughing at you!”

he looked up at you with an exaggeratedly exasperated expression, one arm full of giggling toddler while the other twin dangled in his grip. “aye, well, they’ll stop laughin’ when they learn i’m bloody right!”

you crossed your arms, still grinning. “oh sure. by the time they’re teenagers, they’ll be building their own bombs.”

johnny flashed you a cheeky grin, one that was entirely too proud of itself. “and they’ll be damn good at it, too!”

you rolled your eyes, shaking your head, but you couldn’t stop the warmth spreading in your chest as you watched him wrestle with your boys. it wasn’t the lesson you would’ve chosen, but there was no denying the way their laughter lit up the yard—and how johnny seemed to soak up every second of it, chaos and all.

divider credit

[littlelamy]

cowboy!rafe x farmer's!daughter!reader

a/n: cowboy!rafe x !reader inspired by rafecameroninterlude <3

the cicadas hummed in the background, their steady rhythm mingling with the soft rustling of leaves in the evening breeze. rafe's hand slid from your hip to the small of your back, his touch possessive as he held you close, the warmth of his body seeping into yours. you could feel the rough calluses on his fingers, a testament to his hard work on the ranch, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

"y/n," he murmured against your lips, his voice low and filled with a need that mirrored your own. "i can't keep sneakin' around like this. it ain't right, keepin' you a secret."

you looked up into those piercing blue eyes of his, the ones that always saw right through you, straight to your heart. "i don't care 'bout whats right, rafe. I care about you," you whispered, your voice trembling with the intensity of your feelings. "nobody gonna keep me from you."

he groaned softly, his forehead resting against yours as he struggled with the weight of your words. "you don't know what you're sayin', baby. if your daddy found out… if my old man got wind of this… they'd tear us apart."

you shook your head, the stubborn streak in you flaring up. "let 'em try. I ain't scared of 'em. you’re worth the fight, rafe. i'd go to war for you."

rafe let out a shaky breath, his hand coming up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek with a tenderness that made your heart ache. "you're somethin' else, y/n. ain’t no woman ever made me feel like this."

you leaned into his touch, feeling the world fade away until it was just the two of you, standing at the edge of everything. you felt his breath hitch as you pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, then another, your lips trailing down to his jaw, tasting the salt of his skin.

he pulled you tighter against him, his hand sliding up your back, fingers tangling in your hair as he tilted your head to capture your lips once more. this kiss was different—slower, deeper—like he was trying to memorize the feel of you, the way you fit so perfectly against him.

his other hand slipped down to your thigh, lifting you slightly as he backed you up against the rough bark of the oak tree. the sensation of the hard wood against your back and the solid strength of rafe’s body against your front was dizzying, intoxicating. you let out a soft moan as his lips moved to your neck, trailing hot kisses along your skin, making you arch into him, desperate for more.

"rafe…" you breathed, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you lost yourself in the moment, in the heat that surged between you. the world outside ceased to exist—there was only the two of you, tangled up in each other, driven by a desire that neither of you could resist.

his lips found yours again, and this time the kiss was fierce, almost desperate, as if he was trying to convey all the things words couldn't. you matched his intensity, your heart pounding in your chest, the thrill of the forbidden making your blood run hot.

"baby," he whispers, his voice rough with emotion, "i ain't ever lettin' you go. they can say what they want, but this… this is real."

you nodded, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as you held him close, your bodies pressed together as if you could somehow fuse yourselves into one. "we’ll find a way," you promised, your voice barely more than a whisper. "we’ll make it work, rafe. i’ll follow you anywhere."

he smiled against your lips, that familiar smirk that never failed to make your heart skip a beat. "damn right you will, darlin'. we got somethin' worth fightin' for."

and as the night deepened around you, the stars twinkling above like a million silent witnesses to your love, you knew that no matter what came next, you and rafe would face it together. because in this moment, with his arms around you and his heart beating in time with yours, nothing else mattered.

[kingkatsuki]

— sleepy

I’m still deciding how to characterise him because I feel like he’s got so much depth😫

Togame hates having his naps interrupted— unless it’s by you.

Pairing: Togame Jo x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, dirty talk, established relationship, handjobs, cockwarming, lazy sex, one spank, dick riding, creampie.

Word Count: 2.1k.

Togame Jo is handsome like this. Thick brows softened behind circular glasses as his dark lashes tickled the lenses, eyes shut softly as his chest rose and fell steadily with the rhythm of his breathing. His yellow Shishitoren jacket is strewn over the back of the couch, sandals are kicked off on the floor as he spreads his thick thighs.

You’re happy to feel him half-hard when you settle yourself on top of him, plush thighs on either side of his hips as you press your weight against his crotch. You’d expect him to wake with a jolt if you didn’t know him any better, so used to having to stay alert to avoid the conflict from Furin or any other rival gangs that may filter into unknown territory. But Togame already has you mapped out like the back of his hand, warm palms immediately smooth along the exposed skin of your thighs as his lashes flutter. Staring up at you through half-lidded eyes as he stifles a yawn.

“You ain’t ever lettin’ me nap, huh?” His voice is laced with sleep as calloused fingers dig into the plush of your thighs, shifting slightly beneath you as he feels the warmth between your thighs press against his crotch from the motion. The way you tighten your grip around his shoulders at the contact doesn’t go unnoticed. He slides his outstretched legs back in as he shifts you on his lap, bringing you closer to him.

“You can nap later” You tease, pressing a kiss to his lips as his tongue juts out to taste your lipgloss, “I missed you today.”

You loved having Togame like this— soft and vulnerable, a side of him that no one else got to see.

“I missed you too.” He hums, tilting his head against the back of the couch to get a better look at you as you grind yourself against his crotch again, “Oh? You missed me like that—” He feigns ignorance— he knows exactly what you want.

“Been thinking about you all day,” You admit, feeling your skin flush as the heat inside you continues to rise, a neglected throb pulses between your thighs as your cunt begs for attention.

“Ah, so that’s the real reason you woke a sleeping man up, hm?” He pretended to grumble, his fingers already dipping into your thighs in response, “Tell me what you need?”

“Need your cock, Jo,” You mumbled, leaving glossy kisses against his jawline, “Please?”

“Take whatever you want, sweetheart.” He goads, “It’s yours.”

You love when he indulges you, leaning back just enough to pull his pants down as he mutters complaints under his breath as he’s forced to raise his hips just enough to leave the fabric nestled around the curve of his ass. A soft pout appears on his lips that you can’t help but kiss away before you take in the sight of his cock, hot and heavy as it lays against his pelvis.

Gently taking him into your hands as you pump him softly, your thumb swipes at the bead of pre that pearls at the tip as you smooth it along the length of him. Togame is so pliant when he’s like this, allowing you to take the reigns and use him how you see fit.

“You’re such a tease,” He chastises, his head strewn against the back of the couch as your eyes follow the column of his neck. His Adam’s apple bobs when you press your thumb against his slit, swallowing thickly as his hips jerk into your grip.

“I dunno,” You smile back, “You seem to like it.”

“Your hand’s wrapped around my dick, what’s not to like?” He drawls, squeezing your thigh gently.

“So why don’t you wanna fuck me?” You press, and you feel his grip tighten against your plush skin.

“Believe me, sweetheart,” He yawns, not bothering to cover his mouth as he flashes sharp canines, “I always wanna fuck you.”

“So why don’t you?” You pout, running your thumb along the underside of his cock.

“I just like seeing you needy,” Togame grins, and it has your brows furrowing in annoyance.

“I’m not needy,” You gasp in mock offence as you jab a finger against his chest, “You’re the one that’s been out fighting all morning.”

“You always need my cock to shut you up, yeah?” He ignores you with a dull smirk, staring at you with half-lidded eyes.

Togame his calloused palm along your thigh to the curve of your ass as he pulls your body against his, your face buried in the apex of his neck as he grips his cock steady. Giving himself a languid pump with a flick of his wrist as his other hand pulls your panties to the side, too tired to even attempt to undress you. His slender fingers curl around the fabric as he helps guide the tip of his cock towards your drooling hole, holding you steady as you meet resistance and begin to drop yourself down on his cock.

“Fuck,” You sigh as you feel the delicious ache of him stretching you out. Grinding your hips against him as you feel your body begin to relax and mould to him, taking inch after inch as he finally bottoms out inside you.

“Jo,” You murmur against the column of his neck, feeling him shift beneath you as he palms the swell of your ass, “Pay attention to me.”

“You always have my attention, sweetheart,” He replies, smoothing a palm along your spine as he holds you to his chest, “But it’s bedtime.”

“It’s four in the afternoon,” Your lips curl into a grin against his pulse point as he delights in the saccharine tone of laughter that tumbles from your lips.

Togame breaks off into a guttural groan that rumbles deep in his throat when he feels your tight heat clench around him from the rhythm of your laughter, a sound that vibrates all the way through his neck as you feel it against your lips.

“Yeah, see—” He agrees, tightening his grip around your frame to prevent you from grinding yourself down on his lap, “Bedtime.”

He tries to resist the urge to rut into you like this, to feel the blunt head of his cock carve away at your insides as you pulse and whine above him. Your fingers tease through the short hair at the back of his neck as you wriggle your hips in defiance.

“You never let me nap, woman.” Togame grunts.

“We can’t fall asleep like this.” You coo, warm breath fans his ear as you try to find purchase against his broad shoulders.

“Sure we can.” He counters, “Just close your eyes.”

Togame was certain he could quite happily die like this— the last thing he feels as he takes his dying breath is the sensation of your perfect walls wrapped tight around his cock. What better way to go?

“You’re so silly,” You scoff, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you continue to roll your hips above him, lifting yourself before dropping yourself down on his length as you deliberately press against his pelvis with each forward motion to add some friction to your clit.

You think he’s maybe falling asleep until he strokes his palms along your waist, mapping a path along your sides until he finds the curve of your chest. Pushing your shirt over your breasts as he palms them through the thin cups of your bra. The corners of his lips curl into a content smile when he feels you clench around him in response, your pace faltering when his thumbs graze your nipples. Feeling them pebble beneath his touch as he pulls the cups of your bra down to settle below your tits.

“You’re so pretty,” Togame mumbles, rolling the stiff peaks between his thumb and forefinger as you scoff.

“You’re not even looking at me.”

“I don’t have to look to know.” He shoots back, catching you off guard with a rough smack against your ass.

“Oh,” Your hips jerk, velvety walls clenching around him in response as you feel your skin begin to prickle under his touch.

“You’re always pretty.” He parts his eyes into a tired squint, just enough to adjust to the afternoon sunlight streaming into the room as he watches you. Using him for your pleasure as you keep a sloppy pace, hips rolling as his cock moulds you into the shape of him.

You reward him with a kiss— a slow sensual one with tongues clashing and swallowed breaths as a groan rises in his throat.

“Jo,” You mumble against his lips, “I’m tired.”

“Oh?” He goads, “You’re tired? When you woke me up to do this.”

“Please, Jo.” You plead, tugging his bottom lip between your teeth.

“I suppose I’ll have to do the work, huh?” He rasps, squeezing your ass playfully.

“Fuck me, please?” You whine, and Tokgame feels it. The way your walls tremble around him with desire, desperately trying to milk him of his seed as he feels your slick drool down to his balls. His eyes are still shut behind circular glasses as he moves his fingers to where your bodies are connected, stroking along the length of him that pokes out of your tight cunt to feel how wet you are.

“Fuck.” He groans, and you can tell that’s his final piece of resolve wavering.

You’re the only thing that makes him want to go fast— the pulse of your warm hole coaxing him further as he expels a deep breath. Togame’s grip on you tightens as he holds you steady, fingers dig into your hips as he starts a rough pace. The sound of skin against skin echos the room as he fucks up into you with vigour. The harsh movement has your breasts bouncing as you scramble for purchase, clinging onto the back of his neck near the base of his skull as you rest your forearms on strong shoulders.

He loves you like this— so pliant and at his mercy as his balls slap against the swell of your ass with each rough rut. Pulling the prettiest sounds he’s certain he’s ever heard from between your lips as you begin to crescendo, feeling yourself teetering on the edge of your climax as your walls clamp down around him.

“That’s it, baby,” He grunts, as his hips snap roughly, “I know you’re close.”

Pearly tears clump in your lashes as your nails dig into his scalp, the coil inside you dangerously close to unravelling as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix with each pronounced thrust, “Give it to me.”

And you do. Crying out his name as your toes curl and your eyes roll into your skull, euphoria washes over you as it’s all you can do but bask in the pleasure as a mind-numbing orgasm surges through you.

“That’s my girl,” Togame is quick to prolong it, his eyes open and intent on you through polarised lenses as he moves his thumb to rub at your puffy clit. Ignoring your pleas that it’s too much, you can’t— when he knows you can, and you will, “That’s my good fucking girl.”

Your body trembles against him as your second climax hits that much harder than your first. Convulsing against him you pull your face back from his neck, sitting upright as the pleasure wracks through you, flowing through your veins like an addictive drug as he watches you ride it out. Clenching around his cock as your cunt eagerly begs him for his release, wanting to feel every drop of it.

“Fucking hell,” He pants, holding you steady as he begins to use his grip on you to bring your body down to meet his thrusts. Forcing you onto his cock with each rough snap of his hips, “You’re so needy.”

It’s all you can do but sit there and take it as he uses you for his own release, barely managing a handful of thrusts before he reaches his peak. Holding your hips flush with his as he pumps spurt after spurt of warm, white cum inside your velvety walls. Coating you with his spend as he leaves you seated on his cock, basking in the afterglow as he feels your walls continue to pulse and throb around him as he keeps you plugged with his spend.

You whine when you try to pull yourself off him and his harsh grip stops you, leaving you positioned on his cock as he wraps his arms around your body to press you against his chest. Tucking your head onto his shoulder as he presses wet, open-mouthed kisses against your collarbone.

“Not so fast, sweetheart,” He hums, his hands back to tracing lines against the curve of your spine, “You got what you wanted— now we’re takin’ a nap.”

[virginreprise]

✧ ˚ 　 · 　 　 . B L U E M O O N ✩ M O T E L

jackson!joel miller x reader ✧˖ * °

✧. ┊ ddlg dynamics, smut, fluff, edging, mean and soft joel, so basically joel, squirting, daddy kink, unspecified age gap, dirty talk, established relationship, just more of my depravity pretty much

✧ ⁺ ⁺ 　° words: 3.9k

─── ⋆⋅. AO3 .⋅⋆ ──

“C’mon, baby, don’t cry.” 

There’s a hand down your face, another dancing along the skin of your stomach and pressing against the flesh—calming the heaving breaths that come with the tears. 

Both legs are shaking with the exertion, your lips trembling as you rub your thighs together in a desperate attempt to tip yourself over the edge. To finally give yourself relief from the nauseatingly painful ache that leaks between your legs—seeping into the crevasses of your brain and rendering yourself a dumb, whimpering mess at the faux sympathy and shaking determination of the object of your desecration. 

“Joel,” you whisper, throat too sore from where his cock had been inside it previously to open your mouth more than an inch. “D-daddy.” 

“Shhhh, babydoll, s’okay.” 

Through your blurred eyes, you can see his smirk, the undeniable pride that lingers in the pits of every bruise on his body; every scar that disappears when he has you so desperate. 

“It’s not,” you manage to whine. “Daddy, please, it hurts.” 

All he does is laugh, kissing uncharacteristically softly along your body—a distinct difference from the harsh treatment of your poor, abused cunt he had been toying with for the past hour. Sweat was glistening along your skin, naked as the day you were born save for the frilly little socks on your feet he had insisted you keep on in case your toes were to become cold. Couldn’t have that. 

No, Joel’s little angel baby could not have cold feet. That level of discomfort was far too much for the man to allow. It was perfectly fine to have your clit rubbed raw and swollen, however. That was a pain you needed for your own peace of mind. 

“I know it does,” he muttered with little sympathy, thumb running over your nipple—a jolt at the sensation and Joel’s smirk widening at the discovery. “Oh, honey, you’re so sensitive, ain’t ya?” 

You peel your eyes open to scowl at him, the condition he’s worked you up to making you so irritable you could hardly care if he was disappointed in your attitude. 

“Yes!” you whine, hand clawing at his shirt—the object of your desires hovering above you, still fully clothed whilst you lay naked and sweating. “Daddy, please, I haven’t been bad!” 

It was the truth. Joel knew it too. You’d been his perfect girl all these weeks he’d been busy helping control the dangerous amount of infected that had been hoarding the mountains surrounding Jackson. Long days and late nights, a tired and consequently irritable Joel coming home to a sweet and obedient you that didn’t cry, barely even flinched when he snapped at you that time you’d been rambling about your day and he wasn’t in the mood to find it endearing. You’d just quietly apologised and then crawled onto the floor to take your place at his feet—arm wrapping around his leg and face nuzzling into his thigh. 

He’d apologised the next morning and kissed you all over, more forgiving than he was now: hovered over you and pulling away every time you felt the coil tighten and threaten to snap. 

“I know you have,” he said matter-of-factly. “And daddy’s very proud of you but this isn’t a punishment, baby. I’m rewardin’ you.”

“No you’re not-” 

“Hey, now,” he scolded, gripping the hands that fisted at his shirt, wrapping his fingers around your wrists and pushing them against your chest; holding you hostage as he explained himself. “Don’t interrupt me or I ain’t ever lettin’ you finish.” 

You pouted, still defiant as ever but decided forgivingly to hear him out, mumbling a half-hearted apology and letting him speak. 

“I ain’t tryna make you feel bad, baby, daddy would never wanna do that to you. ‘Specially with how good you’ve been and I know it don’t feel too good right now but the payoff is gonna be somethin’ special, I promise you.” The grip of your wrists began to loosen at your quizzical brow, the contempt replaced with confusion. 

“But how-”

“Shh, honey.” He shook his head softly, bringing your hands to his lips and placing kisses along the knuckles. “You have to trust me. You do trust me, don’t ya?” 

You nodded enthusiastically, never one to deny the notion that you trusted him implicitly—he had your whole life and, despite his questioning, he would never doubt your devotion. 

“Then just let daddy take care of you, okay?” he mumbled against your collarbone, fingers sliding along your skin to nestle between your thighs again, stroking and pinching at your poor cunt once more—clit twitching as he played you with the expert precision that years of experience had gifted to him. Those goddamn hands that had your cheeks heating every time they touched softly along your skin; the most innocent of caresses sending you blazing hot. Skin marred. 

Heaving breaths came from your chest when he slipped his fingers inside your wet hole, slick running down your legs and creating a damp spot on the sheets. A stain that you would apologise for and he would clean, promising you that he didn’t care. That this house was as much yours as it was his now. 

It had been a quick transition: the way you began to permeate his space. Angel hairbrush on his dresser, panties hanging from the corner of the headboard and the smell of roses lingering in the bathroom steam. He kept you locked in the house that echoed deafeningly before you came traipsing through the front door—the adoration he had for you growing until there was nothing left except the sweltering, burning love that sparked the wood walls and encouraged the smoke that threatened to flame. 

You loved him; that much you knew. You loved the way that he took care of you, understood the grievances and the strife, understood the need to let go of yourself, to revert to that childlike personality you had lost years before you should’ve. The stunted childhood—lost to the corners of your nostalgic memory of what it was to be carefree. He let you not care. There was no responsibility, there in his arms. Your head was not full with the thoughts that came so dark in those hours of solitude that kept the blood pumping and your heart screaming. 

All you had to do was be loved by him; he made it so easy with the way he spoke to you. The way he loved you. 

“That’s my good girl.” The praise was dragged from him by a choked moan, his fingers curling, thumb playing with your clit and lips along your neck—bruising and marking. Time, as a moving thing, slowly began to soften his paranoia, and those blooming purple splotches along your neck and breasts, nipped along your thighs, were something to be proud of. Something that he looked at from the corner of his eye, smiling softly into his drink when Annie from the bakery worried over you—thinking naively that the marks were injuries from patrols you had been banned from long ago. Smouldering from afar as you tried to explain and then cowering when he would see Tommy’s disproving glare and Maria’s distaste grow stronger than usual. 

Marks that he created again in the sweat of his bed, with you whining and begging him for release. 

“Please, Daddy,” you sniffled, stomach tightening again—so easy to build you up after he’d deprived you so many times already. “Can’t take much more…” 

“Oh, my little girl.” There was a certain lilt to his tone as he cooed, an intentional quickening of his fingers that told you, even in your blissed-out state, that this was not the time. That he would pull away as soon as he felt you clamping around him and panting in the wake of your desperation. 

“Daddy,” you cried again, tears streaming into your temples, trailing along your scalp and making you shiver with the contrasting cooling of your blazing hot skin. “P-please don't.” 

“Don’t what, baby?” You groaned at his question, sobs falling at his laugh. “C’mon, angel, tell Daddy what you want. Don’t leave me wonderin’.” 

Your words were coming out in unintelligible babbles as the fire raged deep in your belly, spreading to your hips and forcing them to buck as they burnt—blisters appearing along your skin as you tried to ask him if you could come, tried to tell him how much you needed it, contemplating uttering that fateful word from your lips that guaranteed your safety. Cry in his arms for a bit and then smile as he softened and gave you exactly what you wanted.  

“C-come, Daddy,” you managed to whimper, ready to scream when he replied. 

“Say again, honey. Didn’t quite catch that.” 

You gripped at the sheets, sweating all over, feet too hot with the socks adorning them and cried into the pillows as he pushed you right to the edge of the cliff, holding you gracefully over the lip, keeping you teetering—stomach spinning. You begged him to let you go, to kick your legs out from under you and let you feel the sweet release. 

“Need to come, p-p-please.” For a moment, you thought you had him, clit tingling, palms sweating, chest heaving, ready to finally jump, and then as quickly as the hope had come, it was squandered as he pulled his hand away from your legs, and began shushing your cries—sobs fully encapsulating you as he took you in his arms and kissed over your face. 

“Breathe, angel, it’s okay,” he murmured into your hair, careful not to press his full weight into you as he pulled your chest to his and kissed the tip of your nose, each cheek, your forehead and then your lips—a choreographed worship that had become the biggest comfort to you in the times where he denied you everything you wanted. 

“Daddy…” you said through the sobs. “Why?”

“It’s okay,” he muttered, dodging your question with no grace and all brute force. “It’ll be worth it, babygirl, I promise. Daddy promises, yeah?” 

You shook your head defiantly, expressing as best as you could your irritation with him—a mood that he would let slide for now because he knew fully that you didn’t deserve what he was inflicting on you. You had been so good, the bestest of girls for him whilst he battled the long days and harsh conditions—staying as sweet as possible and knowing him well enough that being a brat purely because he wasn’t giving you enough attention, was not one of the ways to make him feel better. 

You had been good—his perfect girl. You deserved to come as many times as you comfortably could, and you deserved his love and affection—the softest of touches and the sweetest of nothings. 

But, he needed an outlet. He needed somewhere to put all the irritation and the gruelling mental battles—all the way inside you. He needed to punish you for his own peace of mind but still give you the sweet reward he was hoping to pull from you. 

“Listen to me,” he said sternly, looking you straight in your bleary eyes as you clung to the broad expanse of his back, adding to the maps of scars along the muscle with the unconscious press of your nails into his skin. “Daddy isn’t being mean, baby. I promise. I need you to trust me on this one and if you don’t, you tell me, okay? You know I ain’t gonna be mad.” 

And just like that Joel was there. Joel Miller, who treated everyone he cared about like they were fine china, was shining into the hedonism that darkened the bedroom. It softened your resolve, blessed by the beauty of every complexity that made up the man above you. So you nodded, the harshness of his eyes disappearing, the hint of a smile crossing his wrinkled brow and a promise sealed as he kissed you. 

“Okay,” you murmured, pussy still on fire, eyes still flaming with adoration and depraved desire. “I trust you.” 

The smile you got was an expression reserved only for these moments, times when he wasn’t being the stubborn, stoic man that you used to be so terrified of. The softness that he kept just for you—a woman that had captured him completely and made him feel revitalised by the innocence of your youth and the genuineness of your affections. 

A woman that he would watch squirm under the heat of his beckoning fingers as they slipped inside you once more, a determination in his eyes that smouldered and flickered until you were shuddering against the feeling—hips bucking into his hand, eyes fluttering closed as the tears pressed into your hairline, lingering in the corners of your eyes and spilling when your legs began to shake. 

“Daddy,” you whined, unable to think of anything but that goddamn word—the name that had completely changed your life on the barren plains of a cracked America, the solace of his arms and the comfort of the wondrous space he had provided for you. The safety. 

“Lean into it, babydoll,” he murmured over the squelch coming from in between your legs. “Relax for me…breathe.” 

His words soothed the burns, salve of his love stinging along the blisters and you let out a sharp exhale, chest slowing to a steady in and out. You braced yourself with a hand on his clothed back, whining at the feeling of fabric against his shoulders and trailing your fingers towards the hem of his shirt and tugging. 

The emptiness you felt when he pulled his fingers from you to rip his shirt from his body was almost unbearable, mumbling a high-pitched beg as your ears rang and your head went fuzzy. If you were just a little more conscious, you would’ve smiled at the unbelievable way he seemed to read you, his fingers slipping and thrusting as soon as the cotton hit the floor and his skin was against yours. 

“Better?” he muttered against your skin, a short laugh falling from his lips when you nodded eagerly and pulled him closer to you—desperate to feel him against you. You always were. You knew you were in trouble when he fucked you with his clothes on, the man knowing how much you adored feeling the heat of him against you, sweat against sweat, bodies completely entangled. You craved it. You breathed it. You devoted your life to the feeling of his body pressed against you and his forehead against yours as he breathed in every expelled depravity. 

It was building there again, clamping around his fingers, slick dripping and eyes squeezing shut as he pressed kisses all over your face—wherever his lips could reach. Devotion squeezed inside the domination, an overpowering feeling overcoming you as he began intentionally stroking at that damned spot inside you that he found with the same precision he killed—bloodied hands blooming inside you, scraping against the sponge and pressing his free palm against your stomach. 

The added pressure, the thumb against your clit had your brain ascending to euphoria, madness clawing at you as you tugged him closer; whimpering and shaking. 

“There we go,” he said proudly. “We found it, huh? I can feel you squeezing me. Gonna cut off my damn circulation.” 

“I’m sorry,” you cried pathetically, only recognising the scolding tone of his voice and not the jest that it was meant to be taken as, your hazy mind distracting you from yourself—pulling your body from its resting place and draping you amongst the clouds in heaven. A paradisiacal lunacy overcoming the sensibilities and leaving you in his hold. Trusting completely. 

“Don’t be sorry, sweet girl. Just focus on that feeling for me,” he requested, fingers still stroking, feeling still growing and transitioning. Something new. “It feel different?” he asked as if he were reading your thoughts. Half the time you believed that he really could see inside your mind and when you muttered a broken ‘yes,’ he nodded along with you, muttering praises that were laced with a fascination with your body’s workings—the mechanisms that brought you to such a brink. 

“Feels like-,” you heaved, moans deepening, fingers digging into his shoulders, marring the skin with sensual flagellation and scarring him with your love and desperation. 

“Like you’re gonna pee?” He finished for you and you nodded in confirmation, his fingers working double time now, pressing against your stomach as this foreign feeling brewed inside you—indescribably terrifying and equally enthralling. 

“D-don’t…can’t,” you babbled and a reassuring kiss was placed to the tip of your nose. 

“It’s okay, baby, just lean into it. Let yourself feel it, you ain’t gonna piss on me, I promise.” 

His strokes were so intentional, each swipe built to make you feel something so beautifully incandescent and sinful. His hand was flat against your stomach, his fingers guiding your hips upwards as he reached deep inside you, pulling cries from your mouth you had never heard before, thankful for the thickness of the walls and the security of his comforting words as he took everything from you. Swallowed every moan, every tear, every devotional that echoed along the four walls, seeped into the crevasses of the mattress and stained the sheets with a connection that could not be scrubbed from the fabric. 

“Feels- Daddy, it feels-”

“I know, honey, I know.” 

You begin to shake, thighs twitching and head spinning. Fingers scissoring inside you, a shit-eating grin on his face that you could only just make out through your tear-streaked vision and a gust of wind passing through your hair, sending it flying into the night as you reach the edge of the sea cliff and gazed at the crashing waves. 

It happened quicker than expected, more sudden than even Joel had anticipated when you begin to seize and go hurtling over the edge, gushing around his fingers, feeling the wetness spray all over him—all over the sheets that become soaked with the essence of you. 

“Fuck,” Joel whispered, enamoured with the way you arch and sing for him, trying to keep his own arousal at bay as you cry in his arms. “There we go,” he murmurs, coming back to himself as he feels you clinging to him; needing him close to you. “That's my precious girl…exactly what daddy wanted.” 

You’re jerking and writhing when he finally pulls away, dragging the slickness up through your folds, your legs closing around his hand when he brushes against your clit. 

“N-n-no, daddy,” you beg. “No more.” 

He laughs at the juxtaposition, the exhaustion that had replaced your desperation to come, the sensations that had overcome you: leaving you braindead. A state that he knew should not be taken lightly. 

“Oh, my baby,” he muttered. “You were perfect.” 

Your eyes were slow to open, his praise basking you in a light glow, illuminating the depths of your soul and replacing the broken pieces that he had just left strewn across the bed. 

“What…” you breathed out, legs squeezing together and a light moan gracing the room at the oversensitivity. “What did I just do?” 

“You just squirted, honey. Been wantin’ to try that with ya for a while now.” He said it so casually, like he hadn’t just given you an orgasm that rivalled every other release you’d had in your life—coerced by an hour of edging and begging; your body exploding into a diabolical rapture that replayed in your mind as he stroked your hair from your face. “Daddy’s so proud of you, baby.” 

You just whined in response, tugging him as close as possible, letting him rest on his side of the bed and pull you on top of him. You clung to him like he was your life source, breaths still steadying, cunt still tingling and three mumbled words on your lips that had been uttered so many times now you could hardly even remember your life before you adored him so ardently. 

“Love you, Daddy.” You buried your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent, happy with his hands all over you and his chest against yours. “Missed you so much.” 

He knew what you were referring to, he knew that you had needed his undivided attention—edged or not—for some time now. He hadn’t been as good to you as he’d wanted to be, quick fucks slowly replacing the languid strokes by the fireplace and the whispered words of devotion against the wall; it had been tough on the both of you. All those hours spent in the snow;  ugly, malnourished, infected lunging for him when he took a wrong step, fighting with all his might to survive. For you and the prospects that clouded your union. 

“I know, babygirl, I missed you too,” he confessed, pressing his cheek into the side of your head, lips pressing feather-light into your hair and his arms tight around your waist. He would not let you go. Could not bear it if you were to slip from his hold. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere now. You know I’ve got the next few weeks off. Gonna spend all of it with my girl. Gonna keep you fucked and fed, how bout that.” 

You giggled and shook your head, squeezing him tight and pulling your face from your hiding place to look him in the eyes. 

“Sounds perfect, Daddy.” 

He looked up at you, eyes scanning your face with a smile that lightened his old features, your hands cupping his cheeks and smoothing along the wrinkles around his eyes. And he let you touch him, let you admire his pretty eyes and strong jaw. All man and not mild. Strong and sturdy. Looking to protect you from the horrors that he daredn’t speak of, from the judgements of others until he’d convinced you that keeping you locked away was normal. That your contributions to the community was keeping him happy. 

A beat, silence permeating the tranquility and then you: managing to fluster the Adonis that lay underneath you. 

“You’re so handsome, Daddy,” you muttered. “The most handsome daddy ever.” 

Joel stared with poorly contained adoration, a smile playing at his lips, a glint in his eyes as he mirrored your movements and took your face in his hands. Thumbs stroked your cheekbones, playing at the softness of your lips and then trailing down the bridge of your nose. 

“And you’re the prettiest little babydoll I’ve ever seen,” he said softly. “My bestest girl.” 

Your cheeks grew hot, his praise and compliments that came far too often, always leaving you a grinning, sweating mess and you hid yourself in his chest, feeling the vibrations of his laugh as you rested your ear against his heartbeat and brought your thumb to your lips. 

You’d stay there forever if you could, naked, not afraid of the consequences of your vulnerability. Just completely safe in his arms, loved by a man who was so full of care he was bursting at the seams with a desire to protect someone. To protect you. And with a mumbled “I love you,” on his lips, a squeeze of your waist as he rolled onto his side, taking you with him, you understand what it felt like to be loved completely. To have every semblance of your being desired and wanted. 

If he ever left, you would have no idea how to reconcile the grief—how to cope with the loss of someone who gave you everything. 

So, you lay there and didn’t think about the next time he’d be on patrol. You lay there, in his arms, not thinking of the possibilities. He promised he would always come back to you. 

He would always come back.

© virginreprise

i have no idea what this is. i'm so tired i can't even be bothered to write this note. i wrote this in the past few hours and its now five in the fucking morning and i can barely see. please appreciate my effort.

[princessbrunette]

oofff flashing criminal!rafe through the divider glass when you visit him in prison 🥰🥰🥰

𐙚 ㅤ  ❦︎ ㅤ ₍ᐢᐢ₎

you promise yourself you won’t cry, and you don’t — brows etched in a permanent knit as the stoic officer leads you through to the visitation centre. you’re seated infront of a glass window and a telephone, awaiting the men in uniform to escort your boyfriend into the room.

he’d been in jail for a few weeks now, and today was finally the day you were able to visit him. it had been long and lonely without him, your communication wittled down to measly 2 minute phone calls that was likely listened in on by guards or other prisoners. you’d only hoped he had been doing okay, trying to put the horror stories you’d heard of prison out of your mind.

they bring in rafe, the man looking already more bulky from his time away, head shaved and orange uniform worn lazily, the shirt open to reveal a wife beater. you try to swallow down the urge to fully check him out, the concern getting the better of you as you snatch the phone to your ear, staring at him with wide glassy eyes. a smirk tugs at his lips at the eagerness as he raises his own to his ear.

“hi, baby.” his voice comes through drawled but clear as day.

“hi, are you okay in there? do you need me to send you anything? i— i just recently got in touch with this lawyer who said there may be a loophole —”

“yeah uh, let’s not talk about that a’ight? another time. i’m… i’m in here now, okay so— let’s just talk. normal shit.” he raises his eyebrows, to show it’s not a request but more so a demand— however at the end his expression melts into a reassuring smile. you sink a little in your seat, sucking in a deep breath.

“yeah, sorry.” you shake your head and he waves you off with a hand to show he didn’t mind, leaning back in his seat with his legs spread a little, phone still pressed to his ear. you stare at eachother in silence for a moment before he speaks again. “that dress… i haven’t seen that one.”

“its new.” you nod, looking down at yourself. he presses a few fingers over his lips, nodding slowly as he stares at the way the fabric is taught around your chest.

“mm… walkin’ round lettin’ other guys see you like that, huh?” he speaks but it’s soft, like he’s not really accusing you of anything — but old habits die hard. you frown, shaking your head anyway and he returns your gaze with his eyes hung low.

“wore it for you.”

“yeah…” he glances at the robotic officers stood stationed at the back of the booth, minding their business whilst simply doing there job. “why don’t you uh… gimme somethin’ to remember when i head back in? hm?” he cocks his head, eyes jumping down to your chest again.

“like what?” you sit forward slightly. you wanted to help him with whatever you could, you just wasn’t so sure what he was getting at.

“like… why don’t you pull that dress down for a sec? just real quick baby, i’m tryna see something.” he lowers his voice, and your eyes naturally flutter at the nasally rich-boy drawl that comes through the phones receiver. you burst into a giggle, looking around at the other visitors.

“rafe!” you sweetly scold, and whilst his lips jump up just a tad, he sits forward like he means business.

“m’not joking, okay? look if— if i could reach through this glass n’grab those fuckin’ titties right now i would, but i can not so i’m beggin’ you to work with me here. you don’t know what it’s like in here, kid — i’m a man starved, a’ight, please.” he drops his voice even more to hiss in a desperate whisper and you look around, wetting your lips as you consider making your move.

you return your gaze to him, and as your dress was strapless all you had to do was pull it down. you giggle mischievously as you do so, pushing your tits together with your hands, squeezing at them a little before yanking your dress up after you suspected the officer taking peeks. rafe grins, pleased — before shifting in his seat, adjusting his crotch area and glancing around. “mm, s’what i’m talkin’ about baby.”

“i miss you.” you’re still giggling, the smiling gently fading into a pout and he presses his lips together with a nod.

“miss you too. when i get outta here it’s fucking over for you, hope you know that. don’t expect to be walkin’ for a few days. that’s a damn promise.”

“well, i look forward to it, big bad rafe cameron.”

𐙚 ㅤ  ❦︎ ㅤ ₍ᐢᐢ₎

[luv-lock]

⸻ ᴡ ᴏ ʟ ᴠ ᴇ ʀ ɪ ɴ ᴇ ⸻

Pairing: James Howlett x Fem Reader

Headcanon: how would he be when he's obsessed?

Note: English is not my first language. Requested by lovely @fexi626. Hope you enjoy!

Logan first notices you when you move into the same small town he’s been hiding out in. It’s supposed to be a temporary stop for him—stay low, avoid attention, move on. But then there’s you, sweet and quiet, with a kindness that catches him completely off guard. It’s the way you smile when you pass him at the local diner or the soft “Good morning” you murmur when you see him on the street. It sparks something primal inside him.

Logan’s the kind of guy who tries to convince himself to stay out of it. "Don’t need to drag her into my mess," he tells himself, nursing a beer at the bar while you laugh with your friends a few tables over. But he keeps looking your way, and when some jackass sidles up to you and tries getting handsy, Logan’s out of his chair before he’s even thought it through.

The guy gets the message fast—hard not to when Logan slams him into the nearest wall. "You touch her again, you’re leavin’ here in pieces. Got it?" The look in his eyes isn’t one anyone would argue with, not if they wanted to keep breathing.

After that, Logan decides he’s gonna keep an eye on you. For your own good, he tells himself. You’re too damn sweet, too damn trusting, and the world’s full of people who’d take advantage of that. He’s doing you a favor, really. "You don’t even know how much trouble’s out there, darlin’," he mutters, walking a few steps behind you on your way home, just close enough to make sure nothing happens.

Logan’s not subtle, though he thinks he is. You start noticing him everywhere—leaning against the counter at the diner where you work, walking past your building more times than coincidence could explain. When you ask him about it, he just shrugs. "Town ain’t that big. Guess we keep runnin’ into each other." But there’s something in his tone, in the way his eyes linger on you, that makes it feel like more.

He starts inserting himself into your life. Fixing your car when it won’t start. Showing up at the bar when you’re out with friends. "Just lookin’ out for you," he says gruffly when you question it. "Not like anyone else around here’s got the balls to."

Logan’s protectiveness is… intense. If someone so much as looks at you wrong, he’s ready to start a fight. And if someone flirts with you? Forget it. You don’t even hear about half the times he’s dealt with someone behind the scenes. He doesn’t see it as a problem—it’s just him taking care of things. "Don’t need you worryin’ about shit like that. That’s my job."

Despite the rough edges, there’s a softness to him when it comes to you. When you’re upset, he doesn’t say much—just pulls you close, lets you bury your face in his chest while he rubs your back. "I got you," he murmurs, his voice low and steady. "Ain’t nothin’ gonna hurt you while I’m around."

But make no mistake—his love comes with a possessive streak a mile wide. If you ever tried to pull away, Logan wouldn’t take it well. He wouldn’t yell or plead; he’d just… make sure you understood. "You don’t get it, do you? You’re mine, darlin’. Always gonna be. Doesn’t matter where you go—I’ll find you. And I’ll bring you back."

Logan doesn’t think of himself as a good man, but when it comes to you, he’s downright delusional. "You deserve better, I know that. But better ain’t what you got. You got me. And I ain’t lettin’ go."

His jealousy burns hot, but his devotion runs even deeper. You’re the one thing in his life that makes him feel… human. And he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, even if it means crossing every line he swore he wouldn’t. "The world’s a shitshow, sweetheart. But you? You’re the only good thing in it. Don’t expect me to let that go."

Logan’s a rough-around-the-edges—possessive, protective, and dangerously loyal. He doesn’t sugarcoat things, doesn’t try to hide who he is. His love is raw, fierce, and unrelenting, just like the man himself.

𝒍𝒖𝒗-𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌 ☆ 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Heaven High (logan)

Summary: Logan tells you how much he adores you.

WC: 1K

Warnings: angst

A/N; there was a mistake that I placed this under a fluff. I was mistaking it with another Logan fic that I have in the works. I apologize.

Read on Ao3!

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The quiet hum of the hospital room buzzed in your ears, a dull contrast to the chaos roaring in your heart. You laid still, eyes half-lidded, body fragile and weak. The steady beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound marking time, but you didn’t need to hear it to know the truth. Time was running out.

Logan sat by your side, his calloused hand wrapped around yours. His thumb absently traced circles over your skin, a soothing rhythm he had adopted without thinking, like he was trying to will your heart to beat a little longer. He didn’t say much; he never did when the silence felt this heavy. But you knew he was there. He always was.

“Logan…” you whispered, your voice a raspy shadow of what it once was. The simple act of speaking felt like it took more energy than you had left.

He turned his head toward you instantly, his expression softening at the sound of your voice. The fierce intensity he carried everywhere, the weight of the world he seemed to bear on his shoulders, faded for a moment as his gaze met yours.

“Hey,” he said softly, leaning closer. His voice was gravelly, rough around the edges like everything about him, but there was warmth in it that only you ever really got to hear. “Don’t talk. Just rest.”

A weak smile tugged at the corners of your lips, but the effort was too much. “I don’t… have time to rest,” you murmured, your chest aching with the weight of what was coming. “Not anymore.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his face tightening as if he could physically stop the truth from sinking in. He had fought for you—God, how he had fought—but not even the Wolverine could win this battle. His healing factor couldn’t heal you.

“You don’t get to talk like that,” he growled, though there was no real anger behind his words. Just pain. The kind of pain he couldn’t fix, and it was tearing him apart. “You’re not done yet.”

You closed your eyes briefly, trying to summon the strength to push through, if only for him. The man who had been your rock, your shelter in the storm. The man who had loved you in ways he hadn’t thought he was capable of.

“I wish…” Your breath caught, and Logan immediately reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle. “I wish I could stay longer. With you.”

He didn’t say anything at first, but his grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly, as if holding you a little closer would keep you from slipping away. His brows furrowed, the strain of holding it together evident in the tense line of his mouth.

“You’re not leavin’ me yet,” he said, his voice low, almost desperate. “I’m not lettin’ you go.”

A tear slid down your cheek, the weight of your reality settling between the two of you like a shadow you couldn’t escape. You had been through so much together—more battles than either of you could count, more heartache than most could endure. But this? This was the fight Logan couldn’t win.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, the words breaking your heart as much as his. “I’m sorry I can’t stay.”

Logan’s breath hitched, and for the first time since you had known him, you saw the crack in his armor. The Wolverine, unbreakable, unstoppable—shattered.

“Don’t say that,” he choked out, his hand trembling slightly as he cupped your face. “You don’t have to be sorry. You didn’t ask for this.”

You let out a soft, shaky breath, your hand reaching up weakly to cover his. His skin felt rough under your fingertips, but it was warm—comforting. You had always felt safe with him, even when the world around you had been anything but.

“I wish I could tell you… how much you’ve meant to me,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “How much I love you.”

Logan closed his eyes, his forehead pressing gently against yours. He stayed like that, silent for a moment, as if trying to memorize the feel of you, the sound of your breath, the warmth of your skin. When he pulled back, his eyes were glassy, filled with emotions he couldn’t contain any longer.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he murmured, his voice raw, breaking. “I know. I’ve always known.”

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you gazed up at him. Even now, even with the end so close, you couldn’t help but marvel at the way he looked at you—like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

“Good,” you breathed, closing your eyes for a moment, feeling the exhaustion pulling at you. “Because I adore you, Logan. I hope… I hope the heavens know how much.”

Logan’s grip on your hand tightened, his thumb brushing over your knuckles like he could hold you there with him just a little longer. He looked away for a moment, as if he couldn’t bear to hear those words. But then he turned back, his voice a broken whisper as he leaned closer to you.

“They know,” he rasped, his lips brushing your temple. “And if they don’t… I’ll make sure they do.”

A tear slipped down his cheek, but you were too weak to wipe it away this time. You just stared up at him, your vision fading, but all you could see was him—the man who had been so much more than a hero to you. He had been your everything.

“Logan…”

“I’m right here, darlin’,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’m not goin’ anywhere. Not without you.”

You smiled weakly, your eyelids fluttering as the world grew dimmer. You wanted to say more, to tell him just how much he had saved you—how much his love had meant. But the words wouldn’t come. Your breath was shallow now, the end closer than ever.

Logan stayed there, holding you close, his own heart breaking as yours faltered.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. “More than I ever knew how to say.”

And as your eyes finally closed, you felt his lips press against your skin, his voice the last thing you heard before the darkness took you.

“I hope heaven knows how much I adore you too.”

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Dom!Eddie Munson x Reader

Includes: oral & vaginal sex, cum play, spanking, somnophilia, Eddie comes on Reader’s bush, thigh riding, & a bit of degradation

Eddie’s voice is calm, as if pinning you against his lap is an effortless action. For him, it probably is. “You can squirm around all you want,” he murmurs. “I’m not lettin’ go of you anytime soon...”

You believe him. There are few things stronger than Eddie’s grip, except maybe his love for you.

The steady blur of interstate traffic rumbles outside the motel window. Eddie brought you here as a little treat. It’s nothing fancy; nothing ever is with Eddie. He’s a simple man. He knew how much you needed a change of scenery, even if it’s just a few nights staying in a cheap hotel on the other side of the highway. It’s easy to please you, Eddie has learned. The only thing you really want from him, he gives in abundance: his love. Apart from that, everything else is just material, superficial. Not having expensive things like designer clothes and jewelry doesn’t bother you, especially since when you’re with Eddie, you’re usually naked anyway...

He bounces his knee, and you along with it. Eddie won’t let you sit on his cock, not yet…not when you make such pretty sounds on his lap like this, your naked cunt spreading a little damp patch on his thigh. Eddie gives you his cock as a reward; you’ll have to earn it. And the way to earn Eddie’s cock is to show him what a good girl you can be by controlling yourself and not disobeying him by coming on his lap. Tonight, you’re only allowed to come on his cock.

Your eyes shift to Eddie’s erection, where it rests against his other thigh. He’s hard as a rock, leaking precum onto the hair covering his leg, his cock rising now and then as it pulses. You bury your face again in the safe space of Eddie’s neck, your lips parting to taste his skin. His big hand presses against the small of your back, holding you in place as he gently rocks you forward and back on his knee. You coo against his neck, soft little sounds that force Eddie to touch himself. His eyes close in pleasure as he strokes himself, three slow pumps from his base to his tip, but no more than that. Eddie isn’t just edging himself; he’s saving his cum for you.

He tilts his head to yours, nuzzling your cheek. “How bad do you need it?” Eddie asks, his breath soft and warm against your ear. He lets go of his cock and brings his hand to your lips, feeding you the slippery precum collected on his fingertips. You moan around his touch, sucking the pearly liquid off his skin. One finger isn’t enough, Eddie decides. He needs to see your mouth full, just like it is when his cock is buried inside it. Eddie presses a second finger between your lips, and then a third, feeling the pad of your tongue curve as you’re forced to make room for him, the softness of your inner cheeks spread by his fingers.

Being so full of Eddie in this way reminds you of his cock, and you begin to feel your self control faltering. You know you’re not supposed to come yet, and you’re trying hard not to, honestly…But it feels too good on Eddie’s lap, your pussy weeping gently onto his thigh, his fingers pumping shallow thrusts between your lips as you suck them, wishing they were his cock…

You grind down against Eddie’s thigh, scooting back and forth at a deliberate pace. Eddie knows that you’re trying to come, and he won’t stop you, even though it’s ‘against the rules.’ He knows you’re well aware of what awaits your disobedience.

You come on Eddie’s thigh, whimpering and gurgling around his fingers, your body trembling in his arms. He lets you finish, then spanks your ass hard, once. “Did I say you were allowed to come?” Eddie asks, his tone full of authority. Your voice is breathy and strained as you drift down from your climax. “N-no Eddie, I’m sorry-.”

He spanks you again, harder than the first time. You wince, giggling immediately after the sting subsides.

*spank!* You bite your lip, stifling another giggle. “Somethin’ funny?” Eddie growls. “You think making a mess all over my lap is something to laugh about? Answer me-.”

*spank!*

“Mm-no, I d-don’t,” you reply, your brain fuzzy and stupid. “Just feels so good when you hurt me; can’t help but smile about it…”

“Hmm,” Eddie nods. He lifts you off his lap, placing you on the floor between his knees. He pats his thigh, the sound of your wetness audible. “Go on,” Eddie gently commands. “Clean up your mess, and if you do a good job, maybe I’ll let you sit on my cock...”

You release your lip from between your teeth, scooting forward slightly so your head is suspended over Eddie’s thigh. You place your lips to his skin, kissing and sucking at the moisture your orgasm left there. Eddie clutches your hair inside his fist. He presses your face into his leg, smearing your nose and lips with your own cum. “Gotta treat y’like a fuckin’ dog, don’t I honey?” Eddie muses. “Have to rub your face in your mess just to teach you a lesson…”

Eddie guides your head sideways and places your face against the underside of his balls. You continue to lick and suck; Eddie’s cock bobs against your nose and forehead. “Open your mouth wider,” Eddie says, and you oblige. With his hand still bunched in your hair, Eddie eases his balls inside your mouth, as much as you can take, anyway. “Stay still,” he instructs, spitting on his hand and wrapping it around his cock. “Keep my balls warm for me while I stroke it.”

You feel Eddie’s fist moving above you, pumping along his shaft. Drops of precum land on your forehead and in your hair as he fucks himself. You stay on your knees dutifully, holding as much of Eddie’s balls in your mouth as you can fit, while he masturbates above you. After a few minutes, Eddie can tell he’s getting close. His voice is huskier when he speaks, his breath shallow, needy. “You’ve been such a good girl for me,” he praises. “Go ahead and climb back up on my lap, angel.”

You spread your legs around Eddie’s waist, sinking onto his cock. His chest dips in a deep exhale of relief, of gratitude, as your pillowy walls hug his cock in a perfect fit. You hum softly against Eddie’s neck, little tears forming in your eyes because the sensation of him filling you after you already came so hard is overwhelming. You’re sleepy and horny all at once, snuggled in Eddie’s arms, cuddled from the inside out as he bucks you gently on his lap. He holds you tightly, knowing how sleepy and needy you are. “You can relax baby,” Eddie murmurs at your ear. “I’ll do all the work from here on, alright?”

A happy little tear drips down your cheek and lands on Eddie’s shoulder. You nuzzle against his neck, feeling sleepier and sleepier by the second. Eddie humps up into you gently, tenderly, letting you fall asleep in his arms. When he realizes you’ve drifted off, he carefully hoists you up, carrying you to the bed with his cock still nestled inside you.

He lowers you onto the mattress, your body limp and pliant beneath his, a contented smile on your face as you softly dream. Eddie hovers over you, admiring the beautiful angel in his arms, pressing kisses to your cheeks, your neck, your breasts. He strokes your hair, fanned out across the pillow, his cock pulsing deep inside you. Eddie knows he’s going to come any second. He’s afraid he’ll disturb your sleep if he finishes inside you, so very carefully, he pulls out.

Eddie strokes himself over your body, teasing apart your labia with the head of his cock. He spreads your cum up and down his shaft, using it as a lubricant. With the head of his cock aimed between your legs, Eddie ejaculates into your pubic hair, covering the soft tuft in milky white. The image of your hair covered in his cum is unexpectedly beautiful to Eddie. With a delicate touch, he ghosts his fingers over your pubic mound, spreading his cum inside the hair there.

The glossy liquid shimmers in the fading light of evening, a lavender sunset visible through the motel window. Eddie doesn’t know if he’s ever seen anything as beautiful as you wearing his cum this way. He’s finished on your face and your back countless times; but there’s something so intimate and private about seeing this part of you covered in his cum that has left Eddie awestruck.

He lowers his face to plant a tender kiss between your legs, and then another, and another…because now that he’s gotten a taste of your pussy, Eddie can’t stop. His tongue wakes you, a sharp gasp leaving your lips as he catches your clit just right. “Eddie…” you purr, arching your back against the bed. “I fell asleep; I’m sorry.”

He smiles up at you from between your legs, his expression assuring you he’s not upset. “I know, angel,” Eddie replies, his lips wet with you. “It’s okay. I told you, I’ll take care of everything.” He licks a fat swipe up your center, prompting your entire body to seize in a shiver of pleasure. “And now,” Eddie adds. “I’m gonna take care of you…”

He sinks his mouth over your lips, sliding his tongue inside you. Looking between your legs, you can’t be sure where your pussy ends and Eddie’s mouth begins; he’s eating you up like a dessert. His mouth searches your most sacred space, making love to your pussy with every stroke of his tongue. The sheets are balled in one of your fists, while your other hand is in Eddie’s hair, locking him in place between your thighs.

A string of incoherent words leaves your lips as you climax around Eddie’s tongue. You can feel yourself squirting, cum gushing against his mouth and dripping down your ass to the bed. He murmurs praises against your cunt, words neither of you can hear over the sound of your moaning Eddie’s name. He eats you through your orgasm, and the one after, and the one after that, till you’re so sensitive you’re begging him to stop.

By this point, Eddie is hard again. He climbs up between your legs and enters you easily. “Such a greedy little cunt,” he grunts as he sinks inside. Sweat and cum drip off his chin and onto your tits. As he fucks you, Eddie feels his previous ejaculate rub against his belly, now cold and sticky where it’s matted in your pubic hair. When he’s close to coming, he pulls out of you and presses his tip against the coarse hair below your belly. You both watch his ruddy tip empty into your pubic hair, a deep growl leaving Eddie’s lips as he relieves himself onto you.

He uses his finger to scoop some cum from your bush, bringing it to your lips, feeding it to you. “Such a good girl,” Eddie praises. He kisses his way up your body, pausing for a moment at your breasts, tugging your nipple lightly between his lips. You reach for Eddie and he lets you pull him close, resting his head against your breasts, his breath warm on your skin. “Sweet dreams, Eddie,” you whisper, watching his eyes go heavy, stroking back his hair. Eddie falls asleep with his head against your heartbeat, and the taste of your cunt on his lips…

[cameronsprincess]

— summary: you get trained and ruined by steve harrington. really no plot. just some filthy smut with daddy harrington🤪

— warnings: smut! 18+ dom!steve, innocent!inexperienced!reader, thigh riding, fingering, oral (male&fem receiving), unprotected sex, loss of virginity, praise kink, degrading, slight daddy/sir kink.

— note: this idea was requested by @wdsara48 & then @babygorewhore !!! so i’m writing it bc i love it and missed writing for stevie baby🥰 i hope y’all love it !! 🤍 also to add, i totally pictured season 1 stevie while writing this😮‍💨

❥ pretty, dumb thing — s.h

you’d never been touched by a man, you’d never even touched yourself. you were pure, innocent, wanting to save yourself for that right person.

with all your rules, and all of your self control, you never expected yourself to end up in this position. hips grinding against steve harrington’s clothed thigh, the most pathetic whimpers falling from your lips as he whispered the filthiest words into your ear.

“stevie.. ‘m so close..” you whine, his hands gripping at your hips tighter and pushing your core further into his thigh, a delicious pressure on your clit that has your toes curling.

steve breathes out a laugh, running one hand up your side and gripping tightly at one of your exposed tits, “gonna cum f’me? such a pretty, dumb thing huh? lettin’ me train you to be a good girl? to ruin this little innocence act?”

the band in your belly tightens, finally snapping after one more grind of your hips. you fall forward, head buried in the crook of his neck as you cry out his name, his hands on your hips helping you ride out your first ever orgasm.

steve slowly lifts you from his lap, dropping you onto his bed and pulling his shirt over his head. you sit yourself up onto your knees and watch him intently, nerves running on high as you think of all the things he had planned for you.

he moves his fingers down to the button on his jeans, quickly undoing it and moving to slide his zipper down. your eyes nearly pop out of your head when you see his large cock pressed firmly against his thigh, his briefs not leaving much to the imagination.

a smirk works its way onto his face, his chocolate brown eyes finding yours, “like what you see baby? gonna be a good girl and suck daddy’s cock?”

saliva pools in your mouth, your bottom lip brought between your teeth as you nod your head slowly.

steve climbs onto the bed, his large hand wrapping around your throat as pushing your neck backward, forcing your head into an uncomfortable upward position. “words. you know i don’t like that nodding shit”

you stutter out a response, “y-yes sir”

he lets out a low groan at your response, the word ‘sir’ making his cock throb. he swiftly pulls his briefs down his legs, letting his rock hard cock spring free, already dripping with precum.

he releases your throat, both hands making their way to the back of your head and grasping at your hair tightly. you spit into your palm, timidly grasping at his cock, running it slowly up and down the soft skin.

steve shoves your head down, forcing your lips to lightly brush against the swollen head of his cock. precum coats your lips, your tongue swiping out to lick them clean. your eyes trail up to find steve’s face, “i- i’ve never…”

steve looks down at you, his eyes glazed over with lust and need. a slightly sincere look takes over his features, “right. ‘innocent girl’ and all. just wrap your lips around it, i’ll help you”

you quickly obey, wrapping your lips around his tip, sucking on it lightly before pushing more of him into your mouth. steve lets out a low groan, a small “fuck” falling from his lips.

he tightens the grip in your hair, pushing your head all the way down until his tip kisses at the back of your throat, making you gag around him. he slowly pulls you back up his length before harshly slamming his hips forward again. tears begin to prick at your eyes, your brain short circuiting with each push and pull of his cock.

“go on, do it yourself. find a pace, no teeth. you can do it, gonna make you my own personal fucktoy by the end of the night”

you begin bobbing your head up and down his length at a slow and steady pace. steve keeps his fingers dug into your hair, helping you push his cock all the way down your throat. you begin gagging around him, drool running down the sides of your mouth and soaking steve’s balls.

you feel his hips stuttering, his dick twitching in your mouth. he lets out low and raspy moans, the grip he had on your hair now bruising as he harshly pulls you back, strings of spit being attached to his cock.

you gasp for air, a hand clutched to your chest as steve gazes down at you, “fuck, i can’t wait to cum down your pretty little throat, but for now, ‘m gonna go down on you, okay baby?”

“o-okay..” you say softly.

steve lightly pushes you back onto the bed, your tits bouncing slightly when your back hits the mattress. you instinctively clamp your legs shut, trying to hide yourself from him but his large palms grip at your thighs, forcing them back open.

“aht aht, stop trying to hide from me baby” he pauses, sucking in a sharp breath and running two fingers through your arousal soaked pussy, “such a fucking pretty pussy. so fucking wet, holy shit”

he sinks two fingers inside of you, pulling a high pitched squeal from you. he slowly thrusts his fingers in and out of your tight cunt, dropping onto his stomach and flicking his tongue over your sensitive clit.

you begin whimpering out soft moans, the feel of his fingers massaging your inner walls as his tongue licked and flicked over your clit felt so good, like nothing you’d ever experienced in your life.

steve wraps his lips around your clit, sucking at the bundle of nerves softly while he continued pushing his fingers in and out of your weeping cunt. you feel that new yet familiar feeling building inside you once more, your orgasm threatening to burst as steve continues working at your pussy with his lips and fingers.

he slowly pulls his fingers from you, lips releasing your clit with a pop, dragging his tongue through your folds, your juices coating his tongue.

steve laps at your core like a man starved, dragging his tongue from your hole to your clit over and over, his tongue flicking over your clit and pushing you over the edge.

your hands fly into his perfect hair, fingertips digging into the soft brown locks and tugging harshly as your second orgasm of the day rushes through you, arousal soaking steve’s face as your legs shake.

steve pushes himself up and onto his knees, wiping your juices from his face with the back of his hand. he smirks down at your weak figure below him, letting a dark chuckle fall past his lips, “fuck, that was so goddamn hot”

he crawls on top of your body, arms caging you in. he rakes his fingertips up your side and to your face, his thumb lightly stroking at your cheek, head dipped down to your ear as he whispers, “almost done, ‘m gonna fuck you now, okay? gonna stretch this sweet pussy out, gonna have you only thinking of me after today”

he gives you no time to respond, his free hand now grasping at his cock and giving it a few slow pumps. he drags his swollen tip through your slick folds, pushing it inside of you slowly before pulling it back out. you whimper, too sensitive for anymore, but also craving the feel of his thick cock buried deep inside of you.

“d-daddy.. please” you whimper out, causing him to darkly chuckle.

“needy lil thing aren’t you sweetheart, don’t worry, daddy’s gonna take care of you”

he slowly pushes his head into you, making you whine out in pain. you press your palms firmly against his chest, fingers pulling at the hair as he slowly pushes more of his thick cock into you.

inch by inch steve fills you up, finally sinking the last inch inside. he stays still for a moment, letting you adjust to his length, but you whimper, your hands flying to this shoulders, fingernails digging into his soft skin.

steve begins to slowly pull himself out, his eyes flickering down to where the two of you connected, a smirk taking over his face when he sees you’ve already left a creamy ring of arousal and blood on his cock.

you loudly gasp, tears slipping past your eyes when he begins to slowly roll his hips, slowly thrusting himself in and out of your pussy. the pain finally subsides, pleasure taking over your entire body.

“f-faster daddy! please!”

steve’s tongue swipes across his bottom lip, his hips snapping faster, his swollen head repeatedly hitting at your gspot. your hips buck forward, meeting each of steve’s thrusts, “fuck you’re takin’ me so good baby, fuckin’ squeezin’ me so tight! god i knew you were a fuckin’ slut— shit!”

you wrap your arms around steve’s torso, legs wrapping around his hips and pulling him further into you, “wanna ride me baby? hmm? wanna learn how to bounce on daddy’s cock?”

you whimper out a pathetic “yes sir”, trapping your bottom lip between your teeth as steve grins, flipping your bodies, making you straddle his waist. you gasp loudly, the new position making his cock push deep into your cunt, swollen head kissing at your gspot and making the band in your belly tighten again.

“s’close daddy! g-gonna cum!”

you fall forward, burying your face in steve’s neck as you roll your hips around his length.

you begin clenching around him repeatedly, his hands tightly gripping at your ass as he begins bucking his hip upward, fucking himself into you. his hips begin stuttering, dick twitching inside of you, his thick, white ropes of cum painting your inner walls.

he continues thrusting up into you, trying to help you reach your final high of the night. a few more thrusts of his hips has you tumbling over the edge, the band snapping as you come undone around him, your arousal soaking your inner thighs and steve’s cock.

he helps you ride out your high, your body falling limp on top of him. you rake your fingers up and down his arms, your lips placing soft kisses up the length of his neck and jaw.

steve exhales deeply, his arms wrapping around your waist as he whispers in your ear, “y’know, that wasn’t bad kid, but i still have a lot to teach. you’re mine now”

STEVE TAGLIST: @rafeism @jjmaybankswifes-blog @moremaybank @unsaidjaelinrose @m-1234 @mel119g @softlilacarrest @fayerite @presleyanswrites @sierraluvz @halflifejess @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols @skyesthebomb @nirvanaissogood @superlegend216 @digitaldiary111 @redhead1180 @crgirlsworld @buckyisveryhot @pradabambie

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