#sexy irish man

[marshmallow--3]

I dreamt about a (Templar outfit) Shay cosplayer popping up who's appeared in my dreams previously, in the last dream, he didn't have time to stop and take photos and this time there was a massive queue forming for him again but I managed to get quite near the front and talk to him

And basically my interaction with cosplayers is that I'm fully aware that it isn't real, but it gives my life some temporary joy to be like a kid at Disneyland and interact and talk to them as though they're the real character (and I love it in return, I dressed in a Pikachu kigurumi once at a con and someone dressed as a trainer threw a Pokéball at me in passing, and in another shot, an Ash made me fight against a legendary Pokémon which hits the nail on the head for his character 😂 actually I still have that photo...)

But anyway in the dream, I told Shay that he's my favourite assassin even though I know he's not actually an assassin anymore and that red looks so good on him and asked if I could hug him (you'd think I would have learnt my lesson after trying to high-five a Jacob on his hidden gauntlet hand and ended up getting scratched lololol), and he said of course so I got a big hug with him and then a selfie

And then I dreamt about reading a fic where Reader sleeps with Shay one last time before he goes Rogue (🥁), because anytime you fall off the map, you do not return to any places that the people know or might know you frequent, you'd be asking to get caught, so unfortunately for the angst, Reader's gotta get ghosted

But in the fic, Reader and Shay use an alias to book an inn room for the night anytime they wanna hook up and they pretend to be a married couple, and the name my brain came up with was "Fanny McBride", and I was like, sold, it's got fanny (UK: vagina) it's got bride, it's got everything relevant

And it wasn't until I woke up that I realised that that's a Scottish name, not Irish

But I don't know much about 18th century America, I reckon Scottish-heritaged people and Irish-heritaged people could have probably banged

"I hate the English"

"I hate the English too"

"Omg we have so much in common, let's fuck"

Basically how I imagine people met in those days 😂

Sucks but being non-binary, ace and autistic gives me worse problems than being English, a character might probably hate me because I'm English, but it's harder to work out whether they'd accept my gender & asexuality, or whether they'd be progressive and not offensive towards Autism

[daddies-i-love]

Seán Ó Fearghaíl

[mrs-bond]

[neotradpsyche]

Unpopular(meaning no one’s) opinion:

I think they should give Buck a new boyfriend, but only if he’s played by Paul Mescal.

[thekingofspin]

here's my unbiased descriptions of the 3 biggest hozier albums:

Hozier: Happy, love and respect

unreal unearth: dramatic, sad

wasteland baby: HOT AS FUCK.

[xxxobadb1tches]

i’m so mad!! i’m ovulating so hard rn and sure i could go literally slut out but no one in this world is packie fucking mcreary

[thecrystalalice]

There's no Alice...

Only VENOM!

[charliekellysbitch]

i want him to crush me with his arm

[kairiscorner]

Kairi, I have been curious and confused for a while.

I seen/skimmed through some fics with Miguel O’Hara’s family being involved and I know his brother, Gabriel seems to be a literal sunshine with some issues. His parents on the other hand, I read somewhere they aren’t the best role models.

I could be wrong about everything, but I want to learn about his family history since maybe in the future I would also write them in my work for plot reasons.

- ☃️ Anon

hello ☃️ anon :DD okay, so it was explained in the younger miguel o'hara parts of the comics that he and gabriel didn't have the best family life. their parents were, yes, not the best role models–when they fought, miguel would always protect gabriel. his parents weren't the best, and oh, spoiler !!

miguel's father isn't even george o'hara (gabri's dad) it's his boss (tyler stone) who he FUCKING HATES. he met him face to face back then and happened upon him a lot when he was testifying against tyler's son, kron (who's his half brother), for his bullying towards miguel and attempted murder in the locker rooms

miguel only finds this out when he spies on his mom and tyler stone talking, and then his whole world crumbles when he discovers tyler's his dad

:)

bonus: it was also stated in the comic that bc kron hates miguel's guts and gabri hates spider man (bc kasey, his gf then, was only with gabri bc she thought he was spider man and kept telling her that wasn't the case-y even though it FUCKING WAS) when you put the two two of them together, it's like miguel has a whole brother who hates every bit of him

hope this helps !!

[spacefan]

anyone else really insecure about their voice . wish i could open my mouth and the sounds of a beautiful shy cooing dove would flow forth but alas. death by goofy voice beam

[mrs-bond]

[whyaminamedafterapresident]

fucking wheeling around with my broken knees

[101-android-luvr-001]

Come on, miracles can happen!

ID: a star trek screenshot of data saying, "the irish unification of 2024," with the words "there is still time, never give up" edited over it. /end ID

[ladywuvly]

♱ press release (declano’hara x journalist!f!reader)

summary|| Being part of Corinium has always been a dream come true. However, when your boss, Tony Baddingham, brings on board the boisterous Irishman from the city, you realize that your once pleasant workplace is about to change for the worse. wc: 5.5k

warnings|| MDNI; 18+ content, smut, infidelity/cheating, dirty talk+swearing, size kink, fingering/oral/spanking (f!receiving), choking, unprotected sex (p!v), rough sex, bodily fluids (cum), agegap, begging, breeding;

masterlist. socials. recs.

Declan O'hara; an Irishman, determined journalist, cutthroat talk show host, loving father, and devoted husband. 

As well as the most sexy, intelligent man you'd ever met. 

The time you'd spent working at the studio, you'd never met anyone like him. Compared to him, James Vereker looked like a schoolboy, and Sebastian Burrows a child. Declan O'Hara had been more man than anyone you'd met, and it was hard to ignore. 

The way his voice carried around the office. It was earthy, his vowels were long and soft, but there was a flatness that gave it roots. You'd come accustomed to it, echoing around the building the more he tested Lord Baddingham and Cameron Cook. 

It had been New Year's Eve the first time the two of you had spoken. You were leaving early for the day, hoping to get a table at your favorite restaurant before going back to your humble abode. 

You entered the elevator turning around to press the lobby button only to be met with the front of Declan O'hara's chest. 

Taking a quick step back before you crashed straight into him, he crowded your space, pushing you farther into the elevator. 

"Floor." His voice was harsh, as it hummed in your ears. The look on his face was stern and impatient. 

"Excuse me?" You asked in confusion. 

His face relaxed and his voice softened. "Which floor, love?"

oh! "Lobby." You said quickly, stepping to the side, creating more space between the two of you.

The ride down felt awkwardly long, the tension lingering. You anxiously stood next to him. Fixing the strap of the bag slung over your shoulder and adjusting the jacket folded across your arm. 

His gaze, not leaving you as the elevator continued its descent. You definitely could feel the way his eyes shamelessly gawked at your figure. The buttons on your blouse became tighter, and the length of your skirt suddenly felt too short. 

"Declan." His name broke the silence, causing you to look over at him. His hand was stretched out toward you, waiting for your own. 

You hesitated before reaching out, and when your fingers brushed, shocks shot through your hand. You mewled out your name, followed by a "...nice to meet you".

With a nod of his head, you bitterly slipped your hand from his, letting it fall back to your side. 

Casually eyeing you up and down. His gaze raking over you, his eyes seem to betray a mixture of desire and restlessness. 

There was something so enticing about you and the more he looked at you, the more his interest piqued. All this time he'd been working here and he hadn't noticed a woman like you walking around. 

The silence dragged, and he felt the words build on his tongue. "Are you going somewhere?" He asked.

"What?" You answered, surprised he was still speaking to you. 

He chuckled deeply at your tone, leaning his shoulder against the wall, getting closer. His head turned in your direction, his gaze fixed intently upon you. 

"For New Year's, are you going somewhere?" He repeated slowly, his eyes never leaving yours once as he waited for a response. 

The lilt of his voice made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. The Irish was thick and sultry on his tongue, his accent like rolling thunder.

"I was going to dinner." You answered hesitantly, unsure why he was even asking. In the soft light of the elevator, he took in the details of your face, the way your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you fidgeted nervously. 

You were a quiet one, most women he'd come in contact with had done anything to gain his attention. Yet you stayed quiet, reserved, shy. A woman so beautiful, so… alluring, could have easily caught his eye, yet he'd never even noticed you. "Was?"

"I'm afraid I've waited too long, missed the reservation window." You told him, and he chuckled again. That earthy sound that seemed to completely fill the space. 

Taking in a deep breath, you were suddenly encompassed by his scent, a mix of musk, and tobacco, something manly. You'd never known a man to have such a presence, the way he filled the room made you feel so small next to him. 

"Pity." He hummed, the corners of his mouth twitched into a small smile, his gaze roaming your face slowly, taking in every fine feature. "You should come by my wife's party tonight, then. She's invited the whole office, you're welcome to join." 

"Thank you, Declan. That's very kind of you." You said quietly, your eyes falling down to the floor. The butterflies in your stomach were fluttering around in a panic. 

Did he just invite you to his house for New Year's?

Your mind was still racing, unsure of how to respond. You had just met the man, but the way he was looking at you made your head feel fuzzy, and you couldn't bring yourself to say no. 

The thought of spending an evening in his presence was both thrilling and terrifying. "Of course..." You stuttered, trying to keep your voice steady. "...I'll try and make it."

As soon as the words left your lips, a satisfied smile spread across his face. "The party starts at eight o'clock." He spoke, tilting his head. 

The elevator dinged loudly, signaling that you'd reached the lobby. The doors opened slowly and Declan stepped out of the lift. "I hope to see you there." His accent seemed to make his words sound almost teasing as he said his farewell, and you felt a blush creep up on your cheeks. 

I hope to see you there…

The words echoed through your mind like a mantra.

The doors started to close, blocking him from sight, and it brought you back to reality. You quickly shot your arm out to stop them from shutting and stepped into the lobby, taking a deep breath. 

The party was in full swing, and you arrived in the midst of it all. It was a typical extravagant upper-class party, the house was lit with an array of colorful, sparkling lights. The house was filled, everywhere you looked there was a person.

You caught glimpses of unfamiliar faces, all blending together into a sea of strangers. You took a moment to look around the room, in search of that familiar head of dark chestnut hair. 

The warm ambiance of the room helped ease the tension in your shoulders, and you couldn't help but hope, looking for any sign of Declan, he wasn't a hard man to miss.

Despite the crowd, it didn't seem like Declan was anywhere to be found. You couldn't help but wonder where he was, the thought of spending the night searching for him made you anxious. 

Across the room, leaning against the wall beside his daughter's, was Declan; his arms crossed over his chest as he scanned the room with a watchful eye. His gaze roamed over your figure shamelessly, taking in the way your dress clung to you. 

Your petite frame, the way your skirt hung around your thighs, the length of your hair. There was a shyness, something timid and he fixated on your body, the way your eyes darted around the room.

A loud commotion caused everyone to turn their heads in the direction of the entrance to the living-room. A woman dressed in a bright green dress entered, riding in on a camel?! 

"Jesus christ." Declan said, the sound of his voice drawing you to him.

He stood a few feet away, dressed handsomely, his dark hair slicked back, and a hint of a five o'clock shadow on his jaw. He was wearing a crisp, tailored suit that accentuated his broad shoulders, and a pair of trousers that hugged his muscular legs. The sight of him was almost intoxicating.

The crowd of guests parted as the woman in the vibrant green dress dismounted from the camel. Cheers erupted throughout the room as she stood there victoriously. You watched as people congratulated and welcomed her. 

Your eyes went to Declan, seeing his gaze had already made it back to you. Standing solely amongst the crowd, looking like a mouse in the center of a lion's den. 

He almost looked embarrassed, Declan could feel his shoulders tense in annoyance, a scoff escaping his lips. He hated when Maud did things like this, rightfully so when he was the one paying for it. It was one thing that had initially attracted Declan to her, but now, it felt like an old pony trick. 

He'd never understood her need for attention. There was no doubt in Declan's mind that this party was more for her than it was for their son. She was thriving off it, soaking up every last bit. He clenched his jaw, frustration building within him. 

The night pressed on. The room slowly returned to its normal pace as people continued with their conversations, drinks in hand. 

The guests now mingling together comfortably, the music softer, more gentle. The lights were dimmer now, allowing for a much more intimate setting. 

Declan, stood among the others, and his eyes caught sight of you once more. 

You were sitting on the couch, legs tucked up underneath you. A soft smile appeared on his face as he watched you, unable to take his eyes away. 

You looked up, your eyes meeting his as he approached. "Having fun?" He asked, his deep voice, gravelly and laced with whiskey. 

He gives you a charming smile as he steps closer, his gaze drifting down your figure, pausing at the low plunge of your dress before returning to your face.

Taking a seat next to you, he leaned back, his body turned towards you; his eyes drifting over your figure. 

A sly smile tugged at his lips as he watched you blush under his intense stare. He chuckled gruffly, finding your reaction endearing. The way you tried to hide your bashfulness, but couldn't help the way your body betrayed you.

He noticed the way you fidgeted nervously. It made his heart swell in his chest. He couldn't help but enjoy the effect he had on you, as your cheeks flushing an attractive shade of pink. 

The tips of your ears burned when you realized just how close he was. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to keep your eyes on him while resisting the urge to look away.

Why the hell was he looking at you like that?

He was older than you, a man of authority and power, and yet, right now he made you feel like a shy schoolgirl with a crush. You couldn't remember the last time someone had looked at you this way, like you were the only person in the room

"I'm glad you decided to come tonight." He spoke low enough that nobody else could hear him but you. His voice rumbled in your ears, and sent a shudder through your body.

His gaze drifted down to your neck, a soft smirk forming on his lips as he watched the chill run down your spine. 

"So am I. Thank you, for inviting me ...and for the booze." 

He continued to look at you, his gaze roaming over you openly without any shame or reservation. He took a sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving your face. You were a sight to behold in this light, soft skin, wide eyes, it was almost hypnotizing. 

"You look lovely." He hummed, his eyes still wandering over you. His gaze was intense, his voice deep, and velvety. 

You thanked him softly, your breath catching in your throat when you noticed the desire in his burning gaze. His body was pressed up against you; his thighs touching yours, you could feel each breath with the rise and fall of his chest against your arm. 

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, the tension in the air thick. You tried to distract yourself, but there was a dangerous gleam in his eyes that made you feel like a bird trapped in a cage. 

Your heart rate quickening, and a warmth spreading through your chest. His gaze felt like a physical touch, making your skin tingle. His deep voice rolling off his tongue, the sound was like a low rumble, making your body hum with something you'd never felt before.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" He asked, breaking the silence. His voice was soft, quiet, meant just for you. 

"Y-yes." You managed to stutter, your heart racing. "Quite."

"You looked a bit lost earlier." He chuckled in reply, his eyes never straying.

"Not lost." You confessed, your voice small in the presence of his dominating aura.

His eyes narrowed as he leaned closer, his body almost pressed flush against your shoulder. "Then what?" He asked, his voice now a mere whisper, deep and seductive  

His hand reached out, fingers brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face, his touch linger for a moment longer than necessary. His fingertips were rough but warm, as he gently brushed the hair behind your ear.

You could feel his hot breath against your neck, his eyes fixed upon you intently, like a man possessed. You tried to maintain a sense of composure, but it was difficult when he was this close to you, his face was inches away from yours.

He was close enough that you could make out every small detail; the indentations in his lips, the faint shadow of stubble around his jawline, the way his eyes seemed to darken with each passing minute.

"I've noticed you've spent most of your evening alone." He began, his lips almost brushing your ear. 

His fingers still playing with the loose locks of your hair, his knuckles just barely grazing your skin. You felt your heart skip a beat at his touch. His hand lingered on your cheek for a moment too long, leaving your skin buzzing with electricity. 

He leaned back, his demeanor calm and collected, but a hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I haven’t been a very good host, have I?" He said softly, taking a deep breath, his eyes still fixed on you.

For a moment, the room around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in this secluded little corner. The sounds of chatter and laughter felt distant, as the world seemed to slow to a halt. 

Your breath hitched in your throat as you looked back at him. He was watching you again, his eyes boring into yours, drinking you in. Your body was alive, your skin burned where it touched his. 

He was older, more experienced, and had a presence that demanded attention. There was something dangerous about him, like a predator stalking its prey. Yet, he was charming and smooth, and there was an undeniable attraction pulling you to him. 

"Declan..." You stuttered, feeling your nerves kicking in.  

His eyes scanned your face, pausing briefly on your lips. His dark eyes seemed to look right through you, and you found yourself unable to pull away from him.

"Just hear me out..." He rushed, his hands getting comfortable as they slid down your hips, but the glimmer of his wedding band on his finger made your stomach sink. 

You stood up quickly, stumbling as your legs adjusted to the amount of alcohol you'd consumed. "No... I-I don't... you're married, Declan."

Declan watched as you stumbled, a look of surprise etched on his features. He stood up quickly, reaching out to catch you, his hands gripping your waist for stability.

He held you like that for a moment, your eyes filled a mix of fear and contemplation. His fingers tightened involuntarily against the softness of your hip. The heat from his touch burned through the fabric of your dress.

"Wait-" He spoke, his voice a deep grumble, almost primal, that made your hairs stand on end.

"Let me go..." You muttered breathlessly, trying to break free from his firm grasp. He held you tighter, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hip.

He paused for a moment, his jaw clenching, his eyes flickering down to your trembling lips. He slowly let go of your waist, his hands lingering for a moment before they fell.

He still had you trapped, a few feet from the nearest group of people, the only way out was through him. His breathing was uneven, hot against your face, and the only thing you could hear was your heart thudding loudly in your ears.

"Can we just go somewhere quiet …to talk." His voice was commanding, but laced with desperation. 

You swallowed hard, the thought of being alone with him made your heart skip a beat. 

You gave him a slight nod, and his body turned, angling away from the crowd.

He slowly began making his way through the crowd, his hand resting on your lower back, gently guiding you. 

Everywhere his skin met yours left you burning, his touch sending a wave of fire through you. He led you through the room and into a hallway.

The music and chatter faded as you turned the corner, and suddenly it was just the two of you. 

Declan pushed a door open at the end of the hallway, guiding you into what appeared to be his office. You stood awkwardly for a moment, the room was small but cozy, a desk and a chair were positioned in the corner along with a leather couch.  

The glow of a lone desk lamp illuminated the room, casting dancing shadows across the walls - which were covered in framed pictures; various awards, certificates, and one lined in bookshelves.

He leaned his back against the door, and for a long moment he stayed silent, watching you. His eyes were sharp underneath the dim light, his lips parted slightly, before his jaw clenched.

He couldn't keep the desire hidden, he let his eyes roam up and down your body. The way the dress hung on your hips, the way your chest rose and fell with each breath, the way your hair fell around your face. It was enough to drive him mad. 

He looked relaxed yet on edge. He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a deep breath. This time there was something different in his eyes, something you couldn't quite place. Still a mixture of desire, and frustration, but something else. 

"You're right. I'm married." He said, his voice firm, almost cold. "And I'm not trying to pretend otherwise." He began, his eyes fixated on your face.

He stepped closer, his body pressing against yours as he spoke. His hands reach out towards you again. He touched your chin, gently tilting your head back, forcing you to look at him. Your breath shuddered as his touch sent a shiver down your spine. 

Declan's brow was low, making him look almost intimidating, but his eyes remained soft, almost pleading. "I'll just say one thing?"

"It's …complicated ...bird." He spoke slowly, his voice a low rumble. "I can't tell you it's perfect ...but I'll be damned if I don't admit that I want you."

The look in his eyes was fierce, possessive almost. His eyes watched every minute reaction your body had to the way his hands held you. 

He wanted to keep you close, the way you leaned into him made his pulse race. His fingers moved from your hip, slowly trailing down the side of your exposed thigh, his touch was hot.

Your breath caught in your throat as his hand glided down your skin, leaving a trail of fire on your flesh. His words echoed in your mind, confusing you and sending your heart racing. You should be outraged, you should be pushing him away. 

Declan's mouth dropped open as you forcibly shoved him away. Your hand sting as it connected with his cheek. 

He stood there for a moment, heart hammering against his chest. His fingers brushing the red mark appearing on his cheek where you'd just struck him.

He looked at you, brow furrowed as his wild eyes searched your face, trying to gauge the situation.

Finally, he spoke from behind his hand. His voice low, almost a whisper. "I'm sorry."

The room was deadly silent, the only thing you could hear was the faint hum of music as your heart pounded heavily in your ears. 

"You're sorry?" You repeated, your voice trembling as you spoke. "You're married, and that's all you have to say?" You said incredulously, your voice shaky. "You're sorry?"

Declan's eyes are glued to yours, a mix of regret, shock and pain etched across his face. He looked almost guilty, his eyes falling to the floor.

Your breathing was heavy, your chest rising and falling quickly, a mix of anger and attraction coursing through you.

This man, this married man, had just told you that he wanted you, had just touched you in a way no man should ever touch a woman who's not his wife, and it sent pleasure through your entire being. 

He winced as you spoke, his jaw twitching as he clenched his teeth. He looked at you with a mixture of remorse and hurt, you knew better, he didn't deserve your sympathy. 

Declan took a deep breath, his eyes flickering back to you. "It's not…" He paused, his voice low and rough. "…that simple." Even still, something about the way he looked at you, the way he spoke, it tugged at something deep inside your chest. 

He wearily took a step forwards, reaching ever so slowly to hold you. Only you backed away quickly, trying to put distance between the two of you. 

"That's what they all say." The words come out harsher than you intended, and you watch a flicker of pain in his eyes. 

You stumbled back against the wall as he quickly closed the distance between you. "For god's sake …it's the truth." He breathed, his pleading eyes never straying from yours. 

It was a strange feeling, to feel pity for a man who had just confessed his feelings for you. 

Yet, watching his pained expression, and the way his eyes seemed to implore you, it made your stomach twist. "That's a bit unfair, don't you think?"

Declan's body pressed against yours, trapping you against him. "Fair?" His accent thick as he spoke in a low rumble under his breath, almost like a growl. "You think I give a fuck about fair?"

Declan made the space between you completely non-existent. One hand rested on the wall beside your head, his face inches away from yours. His other moved up to your cheek, fingers tracing the side, before cupping your jaw. 

He could see the hurt, the fear, the confusion. Yet, underneath it all, he could see the heat, the want, the need in your eyes. 

He leaned forwards, his lips hovering just above yours. You swallowed hard, your mind racing. You knew he was wrong, you knew this was wrong, your body betraying you as you fought against yourself. 

His kiss made you feel unsteady. The way his hand tangled in your hair, his arm wrapped around your back kept you close to him, and his firm hold on your hip made your head fuzzy.

You breathed him in, and the soft sound of vanquish that escaped your lips filled him with pride as he savored the flavor of you for the first time.

With a hand pressed firmly against his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt to ground yourself. The other, clutched at the wrist of his that had drawn you into him.

"You know what's unfair? How much you torture me in this dress. How I've had to hold myself back from pulling you into the nearest room just to rip it off of you ...and you want to talk about being fair?"

Declan gently turned you around, guiding you a few steps backwards until your lower back met the surface of his desk. His lips kept you quiet as you wrestled with the realization of what was happening.

Suddenly, he took you by the shoulders, spun you around, and bent you over the wooden surface. With your arms down at your sides, you felt his presence looming over you, his hands gliding down your back and across your hips.

Standing on your tiptoes, barely grazing the floor, as he pressed himself against you from behind.

You could feel him everywhere; tangling through your hair, delivering a playful smack to your backside that made you gasp, humping against your core as your skirt rose higher and higher.

"There ...now we're even." He hummed teasingly, soothing the sting by gently massaging your heated skin.

You let out a scoff, subconsciously rocking into him. A smirk played on his lips as he slowly sank to his knees.

With a swift motion, he lifted the hem of your skirt, his strong hands parted your thighs before he pressed his warm mouth against your panty-clad center.

You gasped his name, your back arching as you shot up from the table. Your feet nearly slip out from beneath you, threatening to send you tumbling face-first into the desk.

He stood back up quickly, keeping you from moving anymore. His face crowded your senses, his mouth was wet and hot as he buried it into your cheek.

His hand gripped the nape of your neck, as he swept your disheveled hair to one side. "You like that, birdie? You want my mouth on you, is that it? Need to get off on my tongue before you're wet enough to slip my cock into, hmm?"

Your eyes closed as you tried to take a breath, only that was a mistake.

The subtle scent of alcohol mixed with desire enveloped you; he smelt like sex and temptation.The image of him leaning in to kiss his wife goodnight, the lingering taste of you on his lips, was undeniably provocative. Scandalous and enticing, and yet you felt yourself become even wetter at the thought.

He gently pushed you back down, laying you flat on his desk, the cool wood contrasting with the warmth of your flushed cheek.

He pressed another kiss to your neck, his lips lingering, before capturing your hands and guiding them to rest beside your thighs at the table's edge.

"Sit still." He whispered softly while trailing down your body, eventually finding himself back on his knees.

His fingers danced along the edge of your panties before gently pulling them aside. Your hips fell limp against the edge of his desk, your knees buckling beneath you. His hot breath fanned across your soaked core.

His slick tongue flattened, delivering a long, tantalizing stroke, before enveloping your cunt with his mouth. His mustache rough against the tender skin of your supple thighs, igniting a searing heat that flowed like molten lava, feeding into the deep ache in your belly.

"ohmygod..." You shrieked, a hand shooting out to grip onto his hair. "Declan!"

You bit down on your lip, trying to suppress the moans that threatened to escape as he eagerly devoured every inch of you.

Your fingers tangled in his hair; you began to tug his mouth off of you, as the overstimulation became almost too much to bear.

He yanked your hands away, pinning them down, crossing your wrist over your lower back, before you felt the slip of his fingers part your wet folds. He pressing them into your entrance.

The combination of both, his fingering and his tongue prodding you open quickly sent you over the edge, and you shuttered against his parted lips. "Please, Declan ...don't stop.”

You cried out his name, as his tongue drank up the mess you made all over his mouth- which remained attentive but gentle, even once your body stopped convulsing, and you could only shiver at the overstimulation.

Standing up as quickly you could on fawn-legs, you spun around to face him. His lips met yours, as his hands found their way to your hips. Bunching up your skirt, he laid you out over his desk.

He pushed you back, his strong hands reaching up, peeling your dress off your shoulders and chest, gripping at every new part of your soft skin he exposed.

Pinning you in place by your neck, he reached down. The pinching and snapping of flimsy fabric felt raw, carnal, against your skin as he tore your panties from your body. "You like it when I'm rough with you, don't you birdie?"

His hand reached down to undo his belt, you squirmed beneath him, pulling your arms the rest of the way out of your dress. You reach for the buttons of his shirt, despite the anxious shake of your hands, meeting him half-way, after he'd rid himself of his tie.

You pushed his pants down just enough to reach inside and pull out his aching cock, swollen and eager, leaking pearls of translucent pre-cum. Gently thumbing at the tip of him, red hot and slick in your grasp as you coated him in his own release.

His hands reached for you, gripping your hips to help line himself up with your entrance, before taking your face gently in his other. A gasp escaped your lips, as the tip of him brushed against your sensitive clit while he parted your swollen cunt.

He pushed into you eagerly, and the stretch of him filling up you was thrilling. Declan caged you between him and the sturdy desk, his body like a furnace against your skin.

Your hands fell to his chest, dragging the nails of one over his shoulder, and latching onto his muscular back.

A shaky moan slipped from your lips as he delved even deeper, his tip igniting a spot you'd never been able to reach. You could feel every vein and ridge as he pulled back slowly, then dove back in forcefully.

It was tight, the sheer size of him had you second guessing your confidence, yet as the tip of his head grazed your cervix it eased the ache in your lower abdomen. Your heart races at the realization that he has completely ruined you for anyone else.

You flushed, the feeling of his body against yours was too much; the smell of his skin, the way his chest hummed against yours with every groan he released against the crease of your neck, his breath a cloud of spiced whiskey and you.

The hand gripping your hip, tangled in your hair, gently cradling the back of your head as he pressed his wet lips against yours. The pressure of his kiss and the warmth of his breath pulled the air from your lungs, instinctively parting your lips and allowing his tongue to lick into your eager mouth.

The coarse hair of his pelvis brushed against your clit, causing your eyebrows to furrow in delight. "Declan!" His name, a prayer on your lips as he leaned his forehead against yours.

"Shh, Shh, Shh..." You could feel him in your throat. Each thrust was forceful, causing the desk to shake with every merciful connection of your hips.

"Jesus ...you feel so good, birdy. Gripping me so tight, such a good girl." He mumbled breathlessly against your skin.

He couldn't stop himself from gripping onto you tighter, his nails digging into the soft flesh as his hips rut into you over and over, continuing their own steady rhythm, perfectly meeting every one of your thrusts.

The sensation is overwhelmingly intoxicating; it’s a perfect blend of pleasure and pain. You’ve never experienced anything quite like this, intertwining soft cries of bliss with whimpers of overstimulation, creating the most beautiful symphony of pleasure.

Your hands grip onto his shoulders, anchoring you as you fell apart in his hands, your hips moving eagerly, chasing that sweet moment of release.

"You're so well behaved when you finally get some cock in you."You flutter around him, his tongue teasingly tracing your pulse, your walls gripping him tightly too helpless to reply.

A gasp of delight escaped your lips as he, as he continued to abuse your sensitive cunt.

"So warm, and tight ...so good to me when you're getting what you want." He breathed heavily, his thrust remained unwavering.

"Declan, please..."

"What? What is it birdy, use your words." Declan playfully taunted, gently nibbling on your lower lip.

"P-please-oh god! Please d-don't stop ...please, I'm gonna cum."

Your hands tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, fingers weaving through his tousled strands as you drew him down for a searing kiss.

He silenced your moans of pleasure, your cries for him fading away as your body writhed beneath him.

It only took a few moments before he joined you. With a firm grip on your hip, he pulled you closer to him. His body stilled, pumping you full of his seed while your tongues danced together in tandem until his shoulders sagged and you began to tremble.

"You're mine now, birdy ...y'understand that."

© ladywuvly please do not steal, copy, or translate any of my work onto other platforms!

[bunny-jpeg]

Hi hello good day! May I order an extra spicy mille-feuille with a side of mocha coffee for John Price please?

bakery menu

want to order your own dessert? the bakery is still open! always accepting prompts especially from call of duty and formula one! get kinky! get sexy! order up!

mille-feuille (“that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”) + mocha coffee (breeding kink) served by capt. john price!

cw: smut/pwp, breeding kink, rough sex, wife!reader, husband!price, age gap (20s/40s), doggy style

price had a pretty wife! price had a pretty wife! johnny said in a sing-song voice when price returned to base after a "sabbatical", the other men knew what was up the moment he took off his gloves and there was a shiny gold band on his left ring finger.

captain jonathan price of task force 141 had bagged himself a missus!

while johnny's comments were juvinile, it was all in good fun. price never talked about you a lot on base. off base, the boys of 141 had met you and eaten your cooking. but, price kept you close to his chest.

he didn't want anything to happen to you.

when johnny gave him a shove of congratulations, price narrowed his eyes at the younger man, "i am still your captain. don't forget that mactavish."

"of course sir!" johnny laughed as he scratched his jaw, "just 'appy for ya!"

"so what's the plan now?" kyle asked as he gave his captain a firm handshake. in all fairness all three men were curious. you had the house, the ring, what was next for the price's?

price leaned back a little in his chair and shrugged, "well, we're tryin' for a kid when i get back. she's worried by the time i finally retire all her eggs will have dried up!" then gave a hearty laugh, "feels good bein' married to my wife. she a good woman!"

-

price was anxious to go home the second he left home for the next mission for the task force. so the day he got to return to his wife, he was all smiles as he took his belongings back home.

his cock was also painfully hard. he hadn't had the chance to relieve himself in a few days, so his cock was aching for a release. and no better place to put it than in his pretty wife.

he pulled up to the house that you two had been living in before you got married. he got his belongings and headed to the front door. when he knocked on the door, he heard the yapping of your dog.

"pumpkin! stop! down!" he heard your voice and smiled. when the door finally opened, he was instantly met with your arms around him. he held you as best as he could.

"hello, love." he smiled.

you kissed him off the lips and took his boonie hat off. you put it on your head before you giggled and took his hand. you brought him inside and price got a full view of what you were wearing.

the tank top was too tight and the sleeping shorts were too short. he made a face and said, "you've been wearin' that while i'm gone?"

you looked at him and said, "yeah? and the ring too!" then burst into laughter, "i'm joking, honey. i put this on for you. i was excited to see my husband."

price knew from the moment he met you, that he could never say no to you. he just loved you so much, it was almost an ache when he was apart from you.

he knew very well that you were leading him upstairs to the bedroom. he gave pumpkin, your german shepherd a pet and a promise they'll watch coronation street when he was done with her "mama."

price waved to the dog who was sitting there confused what her mama and papa were doing. he closed the door and you were on the bed, the tank top and shorts were off. leaving you in a cute mismatched pair of bra and panties.

you looked so adorable. it made price's cock twitch in his pants. such a pretty little wife. a wife he wanted to dick down and breed until you were nice and round with his children.

oh, he hoped you weren't stopping at one price baby. he was thinking at least three, maybe five if he can stick a pair of twins into you. (irish twins would just have to do if that didn't work! price was a man of many plans!)

he got out of his clothes, his hairy body made you drool. along with the strength in his muscles. you swallowed when he invaded your space and took off your under garments. it was like opening a present.

"my beautiful wife." he said. he took you and got you on your elbows and knees, even getting your pillow to put under your head. he took in the sight of you, back arched for him. ready to accept all he'll give you. he rubbed your ass “that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”

you whimpered against the pillow and felt your husband behind you. you held onto the covers under your head and sighed contently. your pussy was wet, he could clearly see that.

usually he had a cup of tea when he got home, but this was just as good. if not better. he knelt behind you and stroked his cock a few times at the sight of you.

his tip was leaky and his balls felt heavy. such a pretty sight, a submissive little wife (it was the only time you were actually submissive. price knew he married a firecracker!). he rubbed the slick tip up against your slit.

"pretty girl." he purred, then slowly sank into your sweet pussy. his hands on your hips as he pushed in. he heard a sweet moan and watched your back arch more.

"john. please." you panted as you held onto the covers.

"i got ya, love. always got ya." he started his pace, his thrusts were hard but steady. sex was rough, but it made it all feel so good in your bones. it felt like two parts of the same whole.

you were perfect for one another, even when he was breeding your sweet little pussy. he thrust against you, watching your ass jiggle at the force of his movements.

he felt the sweat dip down his back as he moved against you, his heart raced as he felt snug in his wife's pussy. you were just perfect, the most amazing little thing he had ever laid his eyes on. a gift from the heavens for him.

his sweet woman.

"john. please, i love you so much. i can't wait to start a family with you. you're perfect, i love you. you've made me the happiest i could be!" you whined into the pillow. you held onto it under your head.

"i love when you say my name, love. sounds so right on your tongue." he laughed as if he didn't have the most common name in the world. but the way it rolled off your tongue while he was balls deep inside of you made him feel good.

you whined in between your giggle as his soft words. even if his thrusts were hard. he melted you to your core and made you hot all over. it was erotic and it made you sweat.

the two of you continued to move together, his calloused fingers dug into the meat of your hips, enough to leave bruises.

"such a pretty girl."

the sex became harder, like a carnal need for the two of you to reach climax. for him to breed you, he pressed his chest against your back and wrapped both of those strong arms around your middle.

you whined and he panted heavily in your ear. he ached all over for you. his cock bullied into you and his breath was ragged.

"john."

"my girl. my wife." he purred and it sent you over the edge. like fire in your veins.

you clutched onto the bed under you, your back arched and you climaxed. you felt it take the air out of your lungs as he continued to batter your pussy. all in the name of growing your family.

your core throb as his continued movements. you panted heavily and let him get close to his own orgasm. his forearms clenched around you as he

he finished inside of you, and dropped his arms from around you waist. he slowed down and then pulled out. he took you into his arms and kissed at your sweaty neck.

"mmm, my good wife." he said with love in his voice. his cock was still painfully hard. one round wasn't going to make sure his little missus got knocked up! he rubbed his slick cock against your back and said, "perfect for me. we're gonna make a big family, love."

you smiled while still panting and held onto him tightly. you could feel your husband's love as he spooned you. he kissed your neck tenderly and you said, "get me some water and we can go again."

-

you rubbed your achy middle when you felt your son shift against your kidneys. you then poked your belly, "you calm down there." currently he was known as john jr. but you were convincing your amazing, lovely, handsome husband that there were more names than just john.

for now, he was known as peanut. you checked the noodles for the pasta dinner while price was chopping up the mushrooms for the sauce. his sleeves were rolled and those strong arms were on display.

you made a face,

you looked at pumpkin who was seated by your feet, waiting for her chance to have just one noodle. you chuckled and looked at price while you bent down a little to feed the german shepherd one of the penne noodles before you went back to the noodles

"i saw that." price said with a chuckle even if he back was turned to you. he was smiling however. he wouldn't expect anything different from you. when he finished with the mushrooms, he slung a bulky arm around your middle and kissed your cheek.

you turned your head to look at him and giggled, "i love you."

he kissed you on the lips then said, "i love you more. now and forever."

[cherrycranes]

The Perfect Gift (Chris x Fem!Reader) [+18]

Pairing: Chris O´Doyle x Fem!Reader Summary: It´s christmas eve and you´re stuck at the airport because of the snow. Thankfully, a handsome stranger will make sure that you don´t spend your christmas alone.... Word count: 3,548 Contents: (Minors DNI). Drinking/tipsy sex, tit play, unprotected sex, cream pie, semi public sex. Author's notes: A new collab with @fuckiingloser. The draft of this fic has been in the backburner for over a month now. Also, I´m 90% sure that O´Doyle is a fan-given last name but it´s ok, it´s canon to me. Mandatory "english is not my first language" disclaimer. Pinterest moodboard and a playlist at the end so you can visualize!

The heels of your white tall boots clicked loudly over the near emptiness of the Boston Logan Airport. Luck was seemingly not on your side that night. It was christmas eve of 1977 and the snow storm outside had intended to hold you back for long. Your flight to Chicago had been canceled and no taxis were running this late with the weather. Against your will, you would have to spend your christmas eve and christmas morning on one of those uncomfortable terminal seats until another flight became available. 

Resigned, you walked towards a more secluded part of the dead airport. A small handful of people were asleep in chairs, smoking or reading a book. What at your arrival had been a chaotic, bustling center was now a still image of patience.

You set down your bags, thankfully a few vending machines were nearby. The packaged snacks were a far cry from a christmas dinner, but enough to keep you at ease. Quietly, you settled down on an empty chair and opened a book, the words your only company as you ate from a crinkly little bag.

The story was interesting, you had barely had time to read more than a few pages during your stay in Boston, so your curiosity aided your distraction. Time started to flow as fast as the snow outside fell. The howling wind and sometimes a few distant coughs or murmurs were imperceptible to your rolling imagination. It wasn’t until a masculine irish voice spoke to you, that you got pulled out of your trance.

“Excuse me, miss…” You looked up from the page to see a rather handsome man standing next to you. “Just wondering if this seat is taken?” He asked with a small smirk. You looked around, and confirmed that in your time distracted nothing had changed. The sea of empty seats still surrounded you. Yet, this handsome stranger wanted to sit right next to you…

You smirked back, taking in the sight of him: the shaggy brown hair, the perfect blue eyes, the sexy moustache. He was wearing a dark brown leather jacket, a button up shirt and dark pants. The preview of what you assumed to be a catholic golden medal peeked out from the confines of his shirt. He stood there with a confidence that was difficult to ignore.

“It's not taken…” You spoke with a smile, trying to not blush.

Your eyes discreetly roamed over his frame as he set down his bag and sat right next to you. The man was confident, he didn’t hesitate to face you right away and look over you, his pale blue eyes fixated on your mini skirt and the exposed softness of your legs that ended with your tall boots. Then, when his gaze went back up, he followed the curve of your black turtleneck and your chest, your lack of bra so noticeable it was almost endearing. In the end, he finally admired your beautiful face in all its glory.

“Couldn’t have a pretty thing like you all by yourself on christmas eve... So I figured I'd keep you company for the night…” The handsome stranger said with a cocky smile. 

“How sweet of you…” You replied with a soft little laugh. Any other man who would have tried that on you wouldn’t have seen such cuteness from you, but he was just so good looking and so sincere. The airport atmosphere, while quiet, was not completely empty. And he was right, you could use the company on this lonely christmas eve…

His name was Chris O’Doyle, and your ears hadn’t fooled you, he was as Irish as whiskey. Dublin born and raised and very proud of it. His deep, confident voice made you forget all about your book as you caught all his flirty hints and returned the sentiment. What a shame this was temporary, the snow canceled his flight as well, and just like you, he would wait until the morning for things to get better. The only difference was that you would get on a plane to your home in Chicago and Chris to his home in Dublin. 

“What brought you to Boston?” You asked, prompting a smile out of him.

“Just some business.” Chris said ominously, not giving any more details and no hints present in his body language. “What about you, love?” 

“I was here to see a friend for the week.” You answered simply with a little smile.

“A boyfriend?” He questioned with an eyebrow raised, curiosity and a faint mixture of caution and the foundations of healthy envy breaking a simmer in him.

“No boyfriend…” You laughed a little with a  headshake. “I was visiting a friend who just had a baby, actually.” Chris grinned at your answer, the simmer cooling off.

“Gotta say… I’m shocked that a pretty girl like you isn’t spoken for… But I guess it’s my lucky day…” It was hard to not feel the heat making your cheeks burn and the space between your legs tingle when he said that. Damn him for being so charming, and damn him for having those beautiful attentive pale blue eyes that made you understand why there was a whole song named like that. You crossed your legs in an attempt to snuff out the burning desire you had for this handsome stranger.

“I guess so…” You flirted back, and his smile grew. Goodbye to your attempt to keep your desires in check. 

Chris leaned in a bit closer to you, engulfed in the conversation and anchored to your gaze. In between words, he decided to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear very gently, the warmth brewing between you making you forget about the freezing hell outside. 

The passage of time was imperceptible in his company, the silence of the airport felt even comforting in a way, nobody to interrupt his flirty jokes, his talks about life in Ireland and his full undivided attention towards you. Not hard to believe you had grown infatuated with this handsome Irishman in the course of an hour.

“I was saving this for the plane ride...” Chris murmured, a little secret between the two of you. He reached down into his bag and pulled out a silver flask. “But I figure if we’ve gotta spend the night shacked up in the airport… We could have a little fun, hm? Whaddaya say?” 

His deep voice made everything inside you scream “yes”, but your actions just made you nod calmly with an accepting smirk. You took the flask and took a swig that made your throat burn. You coughed, whatever alcohol that was, it had nothing to do with the fun martinis and beer you were used to. Chris chuckled heartily at the face you made.

“That's real irish whiskey love. Strong stuff.” He announced really late, a laugh still echoing in his words. He took the flask from your hands and downed some of it for himself like it was water. 

Even if it had almost set your throat on fire, you sucked it up, taking turns sharing the flask with him until only one sip remained. Chris, being a gentleman, gave it to you, the last act of chivalry that survived since the whiskey made him progressively more touchy with you. His calloused fingertips brushed against your knee, then his hand gradually rested on it. Soon enough his entire palm laid comfortably over the soft flesh of your thigh, strategically positioned so it covered all your exposed skin and not the fabric of your skirt. But even tipsy and handsy, Chris still listened to you. 

“God, you’re just gorgeous…” he said somewhat out of the blue, making you smile, your face already warm thanks to the whiskey. “Pretty face… Even prettier body…” he added, his voice husky and heavily accented, caressing your ears like velvet and like his hand caressed your thigh. Your pussy immediately clenched at the touch of his rough palm. 

Chris’ attention, for the first time in a while, diverted from your face and found the clock upon the wall. It read 2 minutes after midnight.

“Well, would ya look at that? it’s christmas…” He announced, turning back to look into your eyes. “A pretty girl like you should always get a gift on christmas day…” 

His thumb rubbed slow circles over your thigh. His eyes gleamed, locked on yours.

“...and I think I have just the idea for the perfect present…” He whispered, and with that, his smile turned into a devious smirk. He stood up firmly and held his hand out to you, tempting the devils out of you.

“C'mon.. follow me, love.” Chris smiled just so charmingly, you didn’t think twice. Whiskey and charm were such a powerful tool for you. Happily, you obliged and took his hand, leaving the emptiness of the dead airport until a sign appeared in front of your eyes: Maintenance Closet. 

Chris took a chance and discovered the door was unlocked, a rush of cocky triumph running in his veins. 

“After you, love.” He practically purred to you and you made your way into the small room. Shelves of cleaning products, mops, brooms and a small desk tucked in the corner welcomed you two in between the dim light.

With the door locked behind you, Chris slowly started to back you against the wall, keeping you well placed between his chest and a safety poster hanging there.

“I-I’ve never done anything like this before… Always been a good girl...” You spoke so softly, playing the innocent angel when you knew very well your panties were getting wetter by the second. He smiled as if he could tell, one hand coming up to touch your hip and the other stroking your cheek in delight.

“Well… Being naughty gets you on my nice list...” His whisper was magnetic, imperceptibly so, you didn’t know when you leaned so close to him, to his whiskey lips. “Now let me give you that present I promised you…” 

Without another word his lips crashed against yours, his tongue slipped into your warm mouth like it belonged there and tangled with yours. Your soft hands buried in his curls for some needed leverage, desperation soaking the kiss. You groaned softly when his body pressed harder against you, sandwiching you between his torso and the wall and making you feel his hard cock through his jeans. 

You both knew just how risky this was, whoever worked in this closet would definitely come back at some unknown time, the possibility of it happening while Chris fucked you was just as slim as it was huge. But, in the very end, with your cunt clenching around nothing and his tongue swirling hotly in your mouth, you did not care at all if anyone found you. 

Chris shared the sentiment, his teeth gently nipped at your lower lip and pulled it deliciously before releasing it to whisper in your ear.

“I’m gonna fuck your pretty pussy till you come all over my cock…” He purred, his words going straight to your already aching cunt and making you moan a little. Pleased by your reaction, Chris’ hand pushed up your skirt over your hips and exposed the black lace panties underneath. 

“Mmm, you like that idea, huh?” He asked, moving to look into your eyes with a smirk. The pride of making a beautiful woman like you feel like this with mere words made his chest swell. His thumb found its way right to your clothed clit and gave it an experienced rub. The texture of the lace and the size of his fingertip sent a jolt of electricity to you, and more slick to your needy cunt.

“Fuck- you’re already soaked..” He said with a smirk. “All that because of me?” You nodded eagerly, it was the whole and only truth.

 “All for you…” You whispered back, another roll of his thumb on your clit making you moan. Chris smiled, more than satisfied with your submission. 

“You won’t be needing these anymore.” He whispered, pushing your panties down until they were a puddle on the well cleaned floor. Instinctively, you stepped out of them, and Chris couldn’t resist the temptation of picking them up and shoving them in his pocket like a thief. 

“Now as for your gift to me…” He started. “I need to see these perfect tits I've been trying not to drool over in this tight sweater of yours…” 

His bluntness made you giggle, and your inner christmas spirit made you comply with his request. Slowly, you pulled your black turtleneck up your chest, revealing that his early suspicions were very real: you had no bra on. Pale blue eyes fell from your face to your tits.

“Christ-“ He said breathlessly, his eyes wide. Your pretty tits bounced free for your sweater that now laid on the floor. “No bra… good girl.” He cooed, his large hand coming up to cup one in reverent greed, then his rough fingers grabbed your hard nipple and rolled it, earning a moan from you.

“They’re sensitive…” You whined softly.

“Mmm, I can tell love…” He whispered and did exactly what you imagined he would do: lean down and capture your nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling over it mercilessly. You gasped and buried your hands in his dark hair, his hand squeezing your other breast softly to balance things out for your sensitive tits. Quite the difficult task, as his moustache tickled the soft skin on your breasts and sent shivers down your spine and into your cunt.

You tugged on his hair, getting a groan from him and an increase in the intensity of his mouth. He sucked your nipple hungrily, letting it go with a loud pop before switching to the other side.

“These tits… Fuckin’ perfect...” He mumbled as his tongue flicked over the sensitive bud. 

“Chris..” You whispered, followed by an exquisite series of moans. He hummed happily hearing you moan his name. 

Swiftly, he catched your nipple between his teeth gently, your eyes fluttering open to meet his in a silent conversation. He bit down ever so gently, the same care as if he bit his own hand. All you could do was moan loudly at the delicious junction of pain and pleasure.

“Chris, please… Need you…” You managed to beg so prettily that he released your nipple from his gentle bite. He stood up again and smirked. 

“I need you too, pretty girl…” He admitted, looking between you two at his painfully hard erection in his pants. “You’ve got me so fuckin hard…  Need to bury my cock in your wet cunt..” He growled at you, his hands yanked down his zipper and he pulled his briefs and pants off in one go. His thick uncut cock sprung free immediately, and you bit your lip at the sight.

“Big…” You whispered mindlessly, your eyes fixated on a drop of precum leaking from the head. 

“We'll make it fit baby… Don’t worry.” He groaned out, using a finger to tilt your face up. Then, he placed a hot searing kiss on your lips, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him close in response. 

Chris showed off his strength to you when he picked you up effortlessly in one motion, putting your back against the wall and wrapping your legs around his hips. His hands gripped the underside of your thighs and held you up. Breaking the kiss with a wet sound, he looks between you, his eyes devouring your wet pussy before looking back up at your face.

“Are you ready for me?” He purred with a smirk. You bit your lip and nodded so obediently, it was cute.

“Good girl…” He growled, gently pushing you forward and guiding himself into your tight, hot entrance that had been ready for him ever since he said ‘hello’ hours ago… 

As his tip slid into you both moaned in unison, his thick cock stretching you deliciously. Your inner walls throb around him, slowly but surely getting used to his girth. You whimpered, letting your head fall back against the wall. 

“Fuuuuuuck…” Chris groaned loudly. “This cunt’s squeezing me so good… So tight n’ wet for me…” the lust in his voice fanned your neck and sent ripples through you, a few open mouthed kisses and nibbles following suit. He gave you the chance to adjust, more than aware of the sheer size of his cock. You felt him everywhere, almost splitting you apart, only moans came from your lips as a form of coherent sound. All your energies were focused on making his thick cock fit. At this rate, you were convinced that neither of you was going to last long.

Clinging to him, you felt him starting to move his hips, fucking you against the wall with your thighs held up. He had no time to waste, the faint rattle of the safety poster on the wall that your back hit with every thrust served as a reminder of the riskiness of it all. He pistoned his hips harder, desperate for release just like you.

“Fuck-oh-oh my god...” You babbled, he pounded relentlessly. Your cunt throbbed in racing desire against every vein and curve of his cock.

“You fuckin like it, baby?” He purred to you, his hot breath caressing your ear. His hips kept up their rhythm well. “This pussy is like heaven… It’s beggin’ me to come inside...” 

You moaned loudly at the thought, and he groaned when his cock got a tight squeeze from you. 

“Yes.. yes please…” You whimpered so desperately, pathetically but beautifully begging for a perfect stranger’s cum.

“‘Please’ what, love…? You gotta say it… Tell me what you need.” Your handsome stranger commanded between heavy breaths, fucking you hard into the closet wall. In between your blanking brain, you found the correct words in you to beg for the tight pressure in your lower stomach to turn into a needed orgasm.

“Please... Please, come deep.” You moaned, his hips pistoning in you and interrupting your speech. Chris felt his own brain short circuit at that moment, his fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs.

“Fucking hell…  I’m not gonna last long…” He warned, keeping up his rhythm and leaning into your ear. “But this pretty pussy is gonna come first baby…” He then promised, nibbling on your earlobe like it was edible.

This man was pure magic, your pussy knew it. You moaned loudly at his words, not knowing what words were anymore. Your legs wrapped greedily around him and pulled him much closer, squishing your bouncing tits against his chest. A low growl of desire took over his huffs of hot air and he moved his hips harder and faster, going impossibly deep and hitting places barely explored. 

 “Oh my God…” You cried loudly, not even caring who could hear anymore. Chris was hitting all the right spots over and over again, making you melt in his strong arms. “Please…” You whimpered, clinging to him.

“Come for me… Come on my fuckin’ cock, baby…” He urged you desperately, mirroring the way he fucked you. Your eyes fluttered close, feeling overwhelmed with pleasure and finding yourself seconds away from an orgasm. His lips crashed into yours in a hot and messy kiss that just did it for your throbbing cunt.

You felt it. The pressure boiled over and your orgasm hit you hard, nearly senseless. 

“Oh fuck... Chris… I-I’m coming!” You whimpered as best as you could, letting out a series of moans against his lips. Your pussy clenched around him repeatedly, almost possessively, soaking his thick cock in your juices. Your legs around him trembled out of control, only the grip of his strong hands kept you nice and steady against the wall.

“Fuck.. me too.” He groaned loudly, his rhythm slowing down. “This pussy feels so good milking my cock..” 

Like clockwork, you felt him pulse inside you and heard his rough groan of pleasure. His hips finally stopped and he held you there, pinned against the wall, his hot cum dripping down inside you and down his softening cock. 

He rested his forehead against yours so gently, finishing. You panted heavily, reeling from the intensity and danger of what you just did and where you did it… 

“Holy shit..” He whispered after a minute, pulling out of your cunt. Carefully, he set you down on your feet and wobbling legs, the structure of your high boots keeping you steady.

Chris didn’t speak much as he pulled his jeans up and covered his well spent cock. He helped you adjust your miniskirt like a gentleman then put his hand on the wall next to your head like a flirt. The other hand was on your cheek, stroking your soft skin before leaning in to kiss you softly and sweetly. Butterflies in your chest and stomach at the gentleness.

When he pulled back, he looked into your eyes like he was trying to memorize the color of your iris, his thumbs gently brushing over your bottom lip leaving tingles on their wake. With a cheeky smile and a glint of mischief in his pale blue eyes, he spoke:

“How's that for a christmas gift, pretty girl?”

Pinterest moodboard by my dear @fuckiingloser.

Chris playlist made by me with mostly time accurate songs!