#strokes my long veiny beard

[rpfisfine]

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Nothing More Than An Animal

Title: Nothing More Than An Animal

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Henry!Wolverine (Cavillrine) x Female!Reader

Word Count: 2.6K

Summary: After entering a dangerous biker bar alone, you’re almost assaulted. You are saved by a mutant with metal claws who might be more animal than man.

Warnings: alcohol use, swearing, unwanted attention, bar fight, Wolvie being Wolvie, unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie, mention of bodily fluids, claw kink

Beta: @peyton-warren

A/N: The title is taken from this quote from Savage Wolverine #13: “Most people think I'm nothing more than an animal!” Thank you to my amazing beta, Peyton, for giving me this idea in the first place.

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

You couldn’t help yourself. You stand across the street from the biker bar, a flickering streetlamp above you casting an off-white haze. The only thing keeping you from entering the establishment is your sense of self-preservation. This place, Torque Tavern, screams danger. But that only draws you in further.

You’re dressed in your usual style: your favorite Joan Jett shirt with the sleeves cut off, a denim jacket, a pair of figure-hugging black jeans, and a pair of Doc Martens boots. While normally you walk around with a sense of power, tonight was different.

A chill in the air makes you wrap your arms around yourself. You step off the curb into a dirty puddle, crossing the street after looking both ways. With your hand on the bar door, you pull it open and step inside.

The smell of stale beer and tobacco smoke hits your nostrils as the door closes behind you. A dozen heads turn to you, and your heart pounds. You look across the dimly lit room and notice one person who hasn’t paid you any attention, sitting on a stool at the L-shaped bar. You walk up and sit on a stool, a couple of seats away from the large man.

While you wait for the bartender to attend to you, you peek at the behemoth that sits near you. Wild, dark hair that comes to a point on each side, bushy sideburns, and a non-connecting beard outline his face. A white tank top stretches across his wide, thick frame. Bulbous, sweaty biceps glisten in the glow of the lights behind the bar. Hairy, veiny forearms lead down to strong hands: one grips around a lowball of amber liquid so tight that his knuckles are white, and the other balances a fat cigar between two fingers.

“Take a picture, bub, it’ll last longer,” the stranger says, letting out a plume of smoke from his chapped lips before turning his tidepool blue eyes on you.

After a few seconds that feel like minutes, you’re finally able to turn around and look away, mumbling an apology. You can still feel his eyes on you for a bit before he turns back to his drink and his solitude.

Your eyes shoot up once the bartender knocks on the bartop in front of you. “What’ll you have?”

“Uh, yeah. Moosehead and a shot of J.P. Wiser’s,” you reply, unsurprised when the bartender raises a brow at you. He then shrugs, cracks open a bottle of lager, and sets it in front of you. Grabbing a shot glass, he pours you a bit of the blended whiskey.

As soon as the light golden liquor is pushed toward you, you lift it and inhale the vanilla aroma. Tossing it back, the taste of licorice and cinnamon cascades over your tongue and down your throat. You exhale the burn and turn your attention to your lager.

You notice the murmurs behind you. A chair is pushed away from a table, and heavy boots are walking up behind you. A strong hand lands on your shoulder, and you freeze. “Hey, doll. Can I buy you a drink?”

You hold up your beer and decline, “I’m fine, honey.”

“Aw, come on. Just one drink. Promise I don’t bite, ‘less you want me to,” the source of the voice laughs, coming around to lean on the bar between you and the cigar-smoking stranger, his bald head glistening in the low light as he strokes his long, scraggly beard. His beer belly is barely contained in a Limp Bizkit shirt. This man is a walking red flag, and you roll your eyes and shake your head.

“Look, pal. Let me enjoy the drink I have, ok? This is my one fucking night off this week, and I’m not in the mood to let you ruin it with any of your shitty pick-up lines or the promise of hanging out with you and the rest of the rejects from Sons of Anarchy, got it?” You surprised yourself by bellowing these words to a stranger, one who could probably benchpress you with ease.

You flinch as his expression turns dark and he raises a hand. “You stuck-up little bitch, I ought to—”

The cigar-smoking stranger interrupts, seizing him by the throat and lifting him effortlessly off the ground as if he were a mere feather. While holding him aloft with one hand, the other hand balls into a fist while sharp blades appear from his knuckles.

He’s a mutant! You’d never seen anyone use their abilities up close, but now a man with incredible strength and metal claws is gallantly defending your honor.

“I think the lady has everything she needs, so why don’t you and your little friends scurry along before I get really angry and carve you up in front of everyone, eh?”

The sound of a pump-action shotgun being cocked has every head whipping to the bartender. “Get out of my bar, freak!”

The mutant simply turns and deposits the asshole on the ground in a crumpled mess. Blowing another puff of smoke into the ceiling, he throws back the rest of his drink before grabbing a bottle of whiskey from behind the bar and walking out. Halfway to the door, he turns to you and asks, “You coming or what, bub?”

You couldn’t scramble off your stool quick enough after he challenged you to follow him. Stepping over the man left on the floor, you scurry after your mutant savior. Once back in the night air, you look over as he stuffs the bottle into the storage of his Harley-Davidson. As he swings his leg over the bike and settles into the seat, you can't help but notice the bike sagging under his weight, as if he weighs a ton.

He turns back to his storage, taking out a helmet and holding it out to you. You’ve seen enough movies to know that riding with a stranger is a dumb idea. However, if that mysterious stranger happens to be attractive and cruising on a Harley, who could resist the allure of a thrilling adventure?

Taking the helmet, you pull it down over your head and lift a leg to get onto the bike behind him. As he turns the key, you clench your thighs at the vibration and wrap your arms around his waist.

“You don’t have to hold me so tight,” he informs.

“Oh, this isn’t tight," you remark, suddenly realizing that you don't know what to call this man. You offer your name, and he repeats it before giving his own.

“The name’s Logan.” He drops his cigar butt on the asphalt and stubs it out with his boot before putting up the kickstand and backing out of the parking spot. He revs the engine, and you are off on your way to wherever Logan wants to take you.

The drive is smooth, the city whizzing past you as Logan speeds down the highway. You end up at a garage that houses a few more Harleys in various states of repair. Logan puts the kickstand down and lets you get off the bike first. He watches as you take off the helmet and look around at where he’s taken you.

Exiting the bike, he takes the helmet when you hold it out to him. You don’t miss the way his fingers lingered on yours for a beat. He takes the bottle out of his bike pack and takes a hefty swig, then hands it to you.

You read the label, ‘Forty Creek Confederation Oak’, and put the bottle to your lips. Tipping it, you are delighted to taste the honey flavor. Handing him the bottle, you hold the liquor in your mouth until it starts to burn, and then you swallow and exhale the nutty finish.

He appears to be quite taken aback that you managed to drink without gagging, and his intrigue deepens as you begin to move closer into his personal space. The warmth in your chest from the alcohol has you feeling full and content. The heat coming off of his body as you stand close enough to breathe in his air has you feeling something completely overwhelming: pheromone-induced arousal.

Your libido is making itself known as you watch him watch you. Unable to stop your hands, they find themselves smoothing up his tank-covered torso until you tug at the collar. He gets the hint and sets the bottle down before removing his shirt.

You encounter a soft, furry chest that invites you to sink your fingers into its warmth. Tightening your digits in the hair on his pretty pecs, you revel in the growl he makes. He then levels the playing field, grabbing you by the nape of the neck with one large paw and bringing your face to his.

As you part your lips, a soft whimper slips out, unable to be contained, while he teasingly brushes his tongue against your lower lip. Growling again, he dips further to slot your mouth with his. He devours the moans that come out of you as he grabs a handful of your ass, chuckling into the kiss as you let him take the lead. His tongue licks into your mouth, and you feel drunk on his whiskey-laden kiss.

Breaking the kiss, he pushes down on your shoulders until you are kneeling at his feet. You start to unfasten his tight-fitting jeans, but he swats your hands away.

“Not yet, bub,” he warns. “I wanna try something.”

With that, he has you pass him the bottle. He takes a drink and then holds your cheek against his denim-covered cock. You can sense that he’s packing quite a surprise down there, and you’re eagerly anticipating the moment it’s unleashed.

“Eyes on me,” he commands.

You watch as he takes the bottle and pours about a shot’s worth of liquor over his chest. Watching as the liquid washes over him, you are more than eager to taste it directly from his skin. After you’ve cleaned his chest of all traces, he takes another drink. This time, he holds your face by the jaw and leans down, spitting the whiskey directly into your mouth.

You gulp it down eagerly, on the verge of pleading for another sip, when he scoops you up from the ground and twirls you around, positioning you over the bike you arrived on. He yanks down your jeans, your panties going with them. He lands a slap on each cheek before you hear him unzip his pants and feel his heavy dick teasing your clit.

He kicks your legs open further, pulls your denim jacket off, and lines himself up with your soaked entrance. Sliding in, he hisses at the heat of your tightness. You whine at his girth, stretching you more than any other cock you’ve ever taken. Once he bottoms out, the tip kisses your cervix, and his hairy ball sac rests against your puffy pussy. He pauses to let you get used to his size, but as he continues to take his time, it seems he is just tormenting you.

“Logan, please. Need you to move,” you plead, wiggling your hips to get any kind of friction.

You don’t see the toothy grin that covers his face, but you know by the way he tightens his grip on your hips that he is about to fuck you ten ways from Sunday.

Gradually withdrawing his hips, he eases out until only the tip of his shaft stays nestled within you, and then he thrusts back in with force. Doing it again, and then again, he pauses after each thrust to tease you. But on the third plunge, he doesn’t stop; he just keeps driving into you.

The rhythmic sounds of your sweat-soaked skin colliding form a captivating tune, harmonizing with the slick, squelching rhythm of his thrusts deep inside you. Coupled with Logan's deep, primal growls and your breathy moans, it creates an intoxicating symphony of desire.

You sense one of his hands sliding away from your hip, pushing your top up your back, and then a sharp SNIKT! pierces the air. You almost turn to inquire where the sound came from, but you soon feel something razor-sharp and hot to the touch sliding down your back. Once you realize that he’s touching you with his claws, you’re overcome with arousal, and your walls flutter around him. He fucks you through your orgasm and retracts his claws.

He slows his hips, pulling out and moving you both over to a nearby armchair. Sitting down first, he crooks a finger at you, and you remove your jeans and boots before straddling his hips. As you lower yourself onto him, you feel him fill you once more, the sensation overwhelming as you settle in.

You close your eyes and begin to ride him slower than before. Before you know it, you feel hot steel, or what you assume to be steel, at your neck and open your eyes to see his fist a few inches from your face. The claws, held within a millimeter of your jugular, glide across your skin.

“Hey, bub? You gonna keep pussyfooting around, or are you gonna ride this cock like the good little slut I know you are?” He asks, his pupils dilated until there is barely any blue left.

Your mouth opens and closes, but there is no sound coming out besides whimpers of fear that he might push those claws through your neck. Honestly, it added an extra little something to the experience, feeling that he might cut you at any moment.

The claws disappear back into the skin between his knuckles, and instead, he wraps a hand around your neck, guiding you to ride his length exactly as he wants. Your hands hold his thick wrist as you impale yourself over and over again.

“That’s it. Ride my cock just like that,” he praises, sticking two fingers in your mouth that you gluttonously suck. He locks his gaze on yours while you reach another peak of pleasure, your inner walls tightening around him as you release a wave of warmth that cascades down his length and between his legs.

When you threaten to slow down, he fucks into you, chasing his release. At this point, you are drooling over his fingers and looking like the fucked-out little doll that you are. You can tell that he is close as his hips stutter and his brows furrow as he removes his fingers from your mouth.

“Come inside me, Logan. Want it, need it so bad,” you beg, moving your hips as he drives into you with an intensity that leaves you breathless. He lets out a throaty growl and buries himself to the hilt inside of you. Feeling him twitch inside you, rope after rope of his cum painting your cervix, you reach back and play with his balls.

It’s minutes before his cock softens enough to slip out of you, and you rest your head on his chest as his jizz drips from your thoroughly used hole. To your astonishment, his hand rises to gently stroke your back while you find yourself gripping his chest hair.

Little did you know, this was only round one with the big lug. He’ll let you get some shut-eye for now, but later? He’d like to fuck you on every available surface in his garage. And what he wants, he always gets.

A/N: I intentionally used a line from the X-Men (2000), but then failed at “Chekov’s Gun” sort of. But this story only has two acts. So, fuck Chekov. I hope you all enjoyed my little fuckfest here, and please do let me know what you thought!! Writers are fed by comments!

**Tag List**

@littlefreya @mrs-solo-walker @viking-raider

Let me know if you want to be added (or removed). 😁

[pantherxrogers]

A Long Night - Mike Schmidt x Reader (18+ ONLY)

Content warnings: SMUT (18+ ONLY), oral (m receiving), dom/sub elements, degradation, explicit language, p*rn w/o plot, established relationship

A/N: Love this movie and love this man fr 😪 No one asked for this, but he's sexy so I had to write it 🫦 This is a little more intense than what I usually write, so read trigger warnings plz!

Summary: Mike gets home from work. The reader sucks him off. That's literally it, but it's hot! (Also, we're pretending that Mike & Abby have a much better relationship with Aunt Jane and that she's still alive 😀).

You've got him by the balls. Literally.

Mike is all you can see, hear, and feel. His head rests against the back of your couch, eyes squeezed together in pleasure. It takes all of your concentration to keep sucking his dick and not get lost in his pretty face.

"Fuuuuuuuck..." Mike mumbles out, his hips bucking into the warmth of your mouth. You use one hand to cup his balls, feeling them tighten when you gag around him. You take in the way his body reacts, a shiver overtaking him. 

"Does that feel good, baby?" Your voice is slightly hoarse when you pull off of him. Shifting on the pillow below, you've been on your knees for him since he got home. He lifts his head, peering down at you. 

You squeeze your thighs together, needing some sort of pressure on your clit. His dark brown eyes sweep over your frame, slightly hooded from the pleasure you've given him. He's still wearing his vest, with tousled hair and an unshaven beard. His veiny hands grip your couch cushions, needing something to ground himself.

"I asked you a question, baby" You tease, using one hand to stroke his cock, your saliva acting as a lube. His dick stands proudly, thick and hard in your soft palm. 

"Shit-, yes, feels fuckin' amazing," he pants, hips bucking, pre cum bubbling from the angry red tip. You can barely fit your hand around him, wetness seeping out of your pussy, imagining his veiny cock inside of you. 

You lock eyes with him, leaning down to place soft kisses around the tip. He groans out, the sound adding to your arousal. Gathering spit in your mouth, you hold his gaze, before letting the saliva drip out onto his dick.

"Fuck, such a dirty girl," he groans, bucking his hips up into nothing. You smirk at his desperation, loving the way he's falling apart in front of you. 

"C'mon baby, wanna feel your lips back on my dick," he whines, before you put him out of his misery. 

He lets out a guttural moan when you take him back into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock. You're lost in the taste and feel of having him in your mouth.  

Your eyes water slightly, taking more of his cock in your mouth until you feel it hit the back of your throat. He lets out a steady stream of moans, littered with profanities. You breathe through your nostrils, looking up at him while you massage his sensitive balls. 

"You're so fuckin' sexy," he murmurs, bringing up a hand to cradle the back of your head. You love the feeling, relishing in the control he has over you. Relaxing your throat, he fucks your mouth, gently gripping your head with both hands.

"Look at you, on your knees before I can even take a shower," he punctuates the words with sharp thrusts, making you gag around him. Warmth spreads over your body, loving the way he talks to you.

"Such a fuckin' slut, aren't you?" he mocks, a smirk taking over his face. Your eyes light up at the words, loving when he gets like this. So close to the edge and just a little mean with you.

You do your best to nod your head, humming in agreement. The vibrations cause his dick to stir, pushing him closer to the edge.

"Fuck, 'm gonna cum," he huffs, locking your head into place while he sloppily thrusts into your warmth. 

You babble around him, helping him chase his orgasm. He's lost in pleasure, jaw slightly agape. You're grinding down onto the pillow below, unable to control yourself. 

"Fuckin' take it," he groans, more wetness pooling into your panties. "'M gonna cum in your mouth, then fuck that tight pussy," he mutters, your low moan adding to his pleasure. 

The vibrations cause hot spurts of cum hit the back of your throat, salty and thick. You lift your head slightly, trying to relax your throat against the steady stream. 

"Shiiiiiiiit," Mike huffs out, arms slumping to his sides. You stare up at him in awe, sliding off of his cock. 

He looks down at you, raising an eyebrow. You feel your cheeks burn, sticking your clean tongue. His answering smirk makes your pussy throb.

"Such a good girl," he mumbles, reaching down to shove his cock back into his pants before he helps you up. You settle into his side on the worn couch, nestling into his warmth, pressing kisses along his neck. 

He turns his head to capture your soft lips, forcing his tongue into your mouth. His rough vest brushes against your sensitive nipples, your skimpy pajama top doing little to act as a barrier. The way his tongue invades your mouth makes your head swim. 

Peppering kisses down your throat, his strong hand reaches across to knead your ass through your pants. Goosebumps follow everywhere he touches, your heart still beating out of your chest. He starts to slip his hands into your pants, before a knock sounds at the door.

"Damn it," he groans, the disappointment in his voice making you giggle. 

"Open the door!" You both bristle at the sound of his aunt's voice, likely bringing Abby home for the night. The thought of the sweet girl makes you smile, untangling yourself from your boyfriend.

"C'mon, Mike, answer the door," you tell him, almost laughing at the disappointed look on his face. 

"Babe, c'mon, we'll finish later," you giggle, as he untangles himself with a scowl on his face. He presses a firm kiss on your lips before he stands. 

Your heart thuds when he bends down, hovering over you, both arms trapping you in your spot on the couch. 

"Say hi to Abby, and then go wait in my room until I get there," he commands.

You squirm, subtly grinding your clit against your heel, before nodding. He chuckles, pressing one last kiss to your lips before heading to the door. 

It's going to be a long night. 

[little-diable]

Your drunken foolishness – Professor Aaron Hotchner (Profiling 101 Series, Part 4/?)

Chapter four, here we go! Finally we have some smut going on! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader enrolls in professor Hotchner's class "Profiling 101", a man she has always looked up to, a man who treats her like an asshole from day one. Will her need for academic validation manage to push the two closer together? Will her bright mind push her into the world of Aaron Hotchner and the BAU team? Will he manage to keep his distance before the world he tries to protect her from can get its grasp on her?

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (m), lots of tension, descriptions of violence, Aaron is a jerk in this

Pairing: Professor!Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader (2.3k words)

Profiling 101 Series Masterlist

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Five

She woke with a quiet groan rumbling through her, eyes pressed together, trying to distract herself from her pounding headache. It took (y/n) a few moments to realise where she was, and who was laying next to her, still fast asleep. Her eyes fluttered open slowly, adjusting to the gloomy morning, to the features of Aaron Hotchner, not used to seeing him this relaxed.

(Y/n) almost cursed herself for being this stupid, for asking him to stay when she had disturbed his evening, too drunk to realise what she was doing. But now, as she was laying there next to him, with his arm protectively placed over her middle, no curse managed to leave her, somewhat grateful for the confidence her drunken mind had focused on. 

“I can feel you staring.” Aaron’s rough morning voice reverberated through the room, leaving (y/n) chuckling as a soft “Sorry” rolled off her tongue. He opened his eyes, slowly, almost carefully as if he wasn’t sure how to react to their closeness. Their eyes held contact, waiting until either one looked away, and yet neither of them did.

Her hand started moving before she could stop herself from cupping his warm cheek, feeling the stubble of his beard pressing against her fingertips. A hum left Aaron as (y/n) stroked his skin, wondering how she’d ever be able to pull away from the man her heart was longing for. Perhaps it was the calmness of the moment, perhaps it was the fact that for the first time in months Aaron didn’t feel the need to frown, to listen to his racing thoughts, whatever it was, (y/n) couldn’t help but thank her lucky stars for it as he finally closed the gap between them. 

The kiss was hesitant at first, giving one another the chance to pull away, to put an end to this before things could escalate, but neither Aaron nor (y/n) wanted to end this. He shuffled around, laying flat on his back, with (y/n) pulled on top of him. Their lips kept meeting, allowing the kiss to grow deeper as their bodies guided them, urged on by their longings. 

A whimper left her as her clothed heat met his growing bulge, making them groan in desperation, needing to cling to whatever the other wanted and could offer. Her hands started moving down his upper body, feeling the muscles tense beneath her touch, but Aaron didn’t stop her, allowing her to find her way to his sweatpants.

“Can I?” She murmured her words against his slightly swollen lips, waiting for him to speak up, to allow her to touch him or to pull back. It took Aaron a few moments to speak up, murmuring a soft “Go ahead, sweetheart” that left her heart skipping beats. Her hands trembled as she freed his cock, unable to stop her breath from hitching in her chest as she slowly wrapped her fingers around his twitching length. 

No words left either one of them as she shuffled further down his legs, giving herself enough room to lean down, tongue meeting his red tip. A groan ripped through Aaron as he pushed his head further into the pillow, veiny hands resting on her thighs. She was spurred on by the sinful sounds leaving him, lips parted to take as much of him as she could. 

The sight of him would forever race through her mind, his dark hair slightly dishevelled, his lips bruised from their kisses, his Adam's apple bobbing with every swallow. It was a sight she’d dream of, a sight she’d think back to whenever she’d have to take care of her longings, hand buried between her thighs, eyes squeezed shut. 

“Fuck, feels so good, you’re doing so well, sweetheart.” His praises left (y/n) grinning, hallowing her cheeks as she tried to take even more of him, with tears instantly welling up in her eyes. Aaron couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering over her features, trying to memorise every single inch, thanking whoever was listening for pushing her into his grasp. 

One of her hands let go of his cock to slide up his upper body, disappearing underneath his shirt. The feeling of his muscles tensing beneath her touch, while his cock twitched in her mouth, left (y/n) trembling with pride, clinging to the thought of being the only one who was able to make Aaron Hotchner feel whatever he was now guided by. 

“I should have known your chatty mouth would be my death. I‘m close, baby.” Their eyes met as he tugged on her forearm, pulling her hand from his shirt to interlace their fingers. The moment had something almost sweet to it, forcing her to bob her head even faster, pushing Aaron over the edge with a moan clawing through him. His cum filled her cheeks, allowing (y/n) to properly taste him as she swallowed every drop. 

With a shaky breath exhaled she rose from her position, squealing in surprise as Aaron pulled her closer, flipping her down onto the mattress. Their lips met for a bruising kiss, a kiss that forced (y/n)’s hands to move, finding their way around his neck, trying to pull him even closer. His lips kissed their way down her neck, hands tugging on the hemline of her shirt, wanting to pull it over her head just as the sound of his phone going off ripped them apart. 

She didn’t miss the sigh leaving him as he reached for his phone, features instantly shifting back to the all too familiar frown she was more than used to by now. Suddenly the air around them began to shift, as if Aaron had been ripped out of a daydream, once again forced to face the life he had wanted to escape from. With her fingertips stroking up and down his arm, feeling his muscles beneath them just like she had done moments ago, (y/n) kept on watching him.

“There’s a new case waiting.” No longer was his voice sweet, no longer did it carry the same adoration it had carried moments ago. “Should I drive you home?” 

She didn’t manage to hide her expression of surprise as the question left Aaron, not expecting him to push her away that quickly, secretly hoping that he’d invite her to join him once again. (Y/n) found herself getting lost in his pupils for a few more seconds before she cleared her throat, only shaking her head with a small “No, thank you” leaving her.  

……

Ever since that morning at Aaron’s place, (y/n)’s heart had been aching, torn between the pain his sudden switch of emotions had inflicted upon her and between the harshness of her thoughts, reminding her that he didn’t owe her a thing, that he had been in no obligation to tug her along. But now, as she was sitting in her usual spot, watching him present a new case, (y/n) couldn’t help but direct her anger at the frowning man. She felt his eyes on her at any given chance, and yet she avoided his gaze at any cost, not daring to meet his eyes once. 

“Can anybody tell me what you can pick up from these pictures?” All eyes were drawn to the projected pictures, bloody pictures, cruel pictures that would need a heavy trigger warning in any other context. And yet a few gasps still filled the room, sounds that carried the disgust thumping through some of the students' systems. Even (y/n) had to heavily swallow, staring at the first picture that was taken in what appeared to be a slaughter house, showing blood covering the ground, followed by a second picture showing the beheaded body of a male victim, placed down in a completely different spot. 

“The victim was clearly beheaded.” A student called out, forcing a sigh out of Aaron as he stared the guy down, murmuring something under his breath neither (y/n) nor any other student could pick up on. 

“Let's go into the details, the pictures are filled with clues you should be able to pick up on by now.” His voice carried boredom, disappointment almost, eyes searching through the rows till he found (y/n)’s frame once again. For the first time since the start of this class almost an hour ago, she dared to look at him, watching his eyebrows furry, wordlessly daring her to speak up. 

“It seems as if he was dragged out of the first place, taking into consideration the clear escalation of the murder, it appears to be something personal, perhaps it was about money, or about love. The slaughterhouse must have been either the victim or the unsub’s workplace, which adds another personal layer. Did they find the head?” (Y/n)’s voice boomed through the room, all students had their focus on her, speaking about details that perfectly fit into the profile. Aaron wore a proud smile on his lips, a rather unusual burst of happiness none of the other students had ever expected to tug on the man’s features. 

“Yes, the unsub had forced his way into another man’s house, he left it there.” Once again the room was filled with silence, big eyes staring at the professor who couldn’t help but curse himself for building this class, already fed up with those that couldn’t follow some basic instructions. “I want you all to write a three page essay about what these pictures and the details I’ve uploaded can tell you, build a profile, don’t hesitate to add as many details as you can think of. As always, you’ll have time till Friday to upload your homework. Have a good week.”

Chatter suddenly filled the room, words and voices (y/n) didn’t spare any attention to, eyes still focused on Aaron, who kept looking at her. For a few seconds neither of them moved, till he nodded his head towards the hallway, wordlessly asking (y/n) to meet him outside. She moved slowly, taking her time to pack her bag, leaving him waiting outside with a massive wave of students suddenly passing by the tall professor. 

“Come, let's go to my office.” He didn’t give her a choice, Aaron had started walking before (y/n) could either deny or accept the invitation, forced to keep up with his long strides, pushing past students who stared at him with either adoration or fright laced in their gazes. Only as they stepped into his quiet office did the two finally manage to let go of the tension clinging to their bodies.

(Y/n) didn’t dare move, she watched him place his folders down, watched him pour two cups of coffee, placing hers down on his desk. Aaron pointed to the chair close to his, the one she had been sitting in days ago, dark eyes wandering up and down her frame as she slowly moved closer, taking her seat. 

“What am I doing here, professor?” A sigh left Aaron at the use of his title, not used to her voice sounding this cold and distanced. His hand rubbed his tired features before he took a sip of his coffee, eyes not leaving hers once. 

“Please, it’s Aaron when it's just us,” a sigh left him. “I am sorry for not taking you with me that day. But, as you heard just now, the case is quite brutal. I didn’t know what was expecting us, so I didn’t want to drag you along before knowing what it was about.” A humourless laugh left (y/n), head being shaked as she straightened her posture, keeping her gaze as cold as her voice. 

“It’s not about that, and you know that, Aaron. It’s about you pushing me away, about making me feel like I was just there for you to use, and after you had enough you let go. I couldn’t care less about you not wanting to take me with you to the BAU, even though you know just as well as I do that I am more competent than any other student trying to get into the FBI.” His features grew hard once again, matching the way she now talked to him, no longer trying to ease the hurt his actions had clearly pushed upon her. 

“Let me make something clear, (y/n).” She almost flinched at the harsh tone of his voice, not used to him using this very coldness to address her, not even matching their first few interactions. “You’re my student, nothing more. Yes, you are by far more competent than the others in the Profiling 101 class, but that’s all. Seeing you outside of class and the BAU was a mistake, but that is on you and your drunk foolishness. I shouldn’t have touched you, and I apologise for crossing that line.” 

An almost eerie silence engulfed the two, quiet moments (y/n) used to bite down her tears, the angry sobs threatening to break through her. She cleared her throat, reached for her bag and rose from the chair. Wordlessly she stared down on the frowning man, and with a shake of her head she murmured a sharp “Fuck you, Aaron.” 

She didn’t wait for a reply, body forcing her to stumble out of his office with tears welling up in her eyes, blurring her vision as (y/n) forced herself to keep walking, chasing the once again growing distance between her and Aaron Hotchner. 

[queenhunter102]

John Price Silly thought

Hello, my little loves. How are we? Before we begin, this is a silly thought—nothing too drastic. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride. Don't forget to Reblog and comment, alright? I love to hear and see from you, as many of you sit and wait for the following drops of the parts/chapters of my two stories. And remember, my loves, I am more than happy to write your requests if you have them. alright, talk soon, my little loves. I'm warning you that this may be a little NSFW, as it talks about the adult industry! Ok? just a warning before I begin.

ANYWAY

I've seen a lot of Simon as a porn star as well as Johnny, but what about Price? Like hello?

That man depending on how you think of him, is either the sweetest man alive or the meanest, most vicious man alive in his pornos, like come on!

I could see him having a long veiny cock that is a little fat at the bottom and can be like super sensitive…(I could say more, but that's for another silly thought)

Depending on how the first meeting with him may determine how he treats you in the video if you come in all haughty and arrogant, he will knock you down SEVERAL pegs, and I do mean SEVERAL! Like he will ruin you even if that meant going off script and pissing off his director, like him making your ass red, leaving bruises and bites, little beard burns everywhere (Like he means to make it the roughest sex you would ever have)

Now, if you were as sweet as pie? So kind and almost wide-eyed in the first meeting, I could see him being so kind, almost like you would expect a boyfriend to be: gentle caresses, sweet words, soothing strokes, gentle kisses. I could see him bending over backwards to adore you on camera, almost showing you off.

But I can also see him, probably by 2016, retiring, still kicking about here and there, making the pairings and the writings.

But I imagine a series of videos of him getting leaked of him talking some newbies through their first scene, or 'Correcting' their positions and such, that brings him back into the spotlight, every one failing in love with a side of him, this now sweet older man, who takes excellent care of his stars.

But what throws him back into the spotlight, making him front page news everywhere on most news sources, is a clip of him going viral because someone refused to take the word no. The picture used most was a screenshot of his fist blurry as he swung.

[waypens]

strokes my long veiny beard

[rpfisfine]

do you guys think i should remake the alex VS aleksa poll be honest with me...

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒆

week 4 - day 16 - kinktober - monsterfucking, public sex and sex pollen - were-bear ari levinson x fairy reader

warning - monsterfucking, public sex and sex pollen

kinktober masterlist

18+ only please, the gifs and headers aren’t mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

The tiny fairy flutters over to where she hears grunts and groans. Knowing about other creatures in the woods, she is mindful and careful of what she may come across. Once she comes into view of an open field with flowers no creature should ever go near, she notices a man. He’s at least seven feet in height, his chest is covered in hair, and the sight of his face is scrunched up. His beard was unkempt, and his long hair blew in the breeze.

The fairy is unsure, trying to call out to the man. But his grunts and groans were too loud for him to hear. She looked down at the flowers, brows furrowed, knowing that no creature was to go into this field but not wanting this poor man to continue to suffer. She huffs before flying over to where he stands. As she gets close, she gasps. His giant veiny hand is wrapped around his monstrous cock, an angry tip and throbbing veins, and his head snaps up at the sound. Golden eyes connect with the small figure, and growls leave his canine mouth before his clawed hand reaches up and grabs her.

Y/n struggles, her tiny hands trying to push herself out of the beast's hand. Ari brings her close to him, smelling her as the hand around his cock has now grabbed a flower, tearing it from the ground and crushing it between his grasp. Bringing it close as the powder from the petals entered Y/n’s senses, causing her eyes to darken with lust and slick to gather between her thighs. Whines of desperation leave her as she tries to hump one of his fingers, needing to be filled by the beast.

Ari lays her body against his palm, his giant finger coming close to where her tiny white dress lifts and exposing the fairy’s forbidden fruit. His finger is practically the size of the fairy’s body. Ari’s golden eyes zone in on her bare cunt, sniffing the air and smelling the sweet nectar that gathers within her glistening folds before he begins to rub her, his finger managing to touch every part of her. Tiny whimpers exit Y/n as the beast continues to stroke her before a sharp gasp leaves her lips when Ari begins to push his finger into the small hole.

He growls as he’s met with resistance, “tiny fairy needs to relax. Ari only wants to help.” He can feel her slowly fall deep into her subconscious as her body relaxes and she welcomes him to her. Y/n’s magic flows through her, opening her up and allowing big things to enter her tiny form. Ari lets out a growl as his finger slips in easy, and his cock throbs as the fairy arches her back. His finger hits all of the right places inside her as he curls and thrusts them. “Good fairy, make bear happy.” Her cunt flutters around his finger before he adds another, creating more pleasure inside her.

Ari stretches Y/n out. Moans and giggles fill the air as she is high on the sex pollen in these flowers. You can’t blame the beast for his sexual desires, as he was out in the field and exposed. Ari continues to thrust and curl his fingers before taking them out and placing them in his mouth. His eyes widen before he lets out a pleasured growl, bringing the woman up and sitting her on top of his face, his tongue lapping up all of her sweet nectar. The smooth but wet muscle slithers inside her small hole. He groans as her tiny hand's grips whatever hair she can reach as his tongue fucks her.

Ari laps up all the juices that flow out of her as she cums, before bringing her down to his throbbing member. “Nearly done, little fairy.” He prods her hole with the thick tip of his cock, before slowly pushing in. His cock stretches her body as it appears in her stomach. Ari throws his head back and groans, never experiencing something so tight. “Fairy so small, fairy mine now.” He growls out before gripping her tiny body and fucking her onto his cock, feeling her small walls squeeze the life out of his monstrous cock. “Little fairy squeezing bear so good, never want to stop feeling this.” Ari picks up his pace, fucking her harder and faster against him. Y/n’s eyes roll to the back of her head as her tongue hangs out of her mouth.

The fairies were told about the other creatures, but none had ever experienced the feel of a werebear before. One of the reasons was the sheer size difference between the species, but Y/n knows she will never be able to return to anything so small after experiencing Ari.

Her mind has gone entirely dumb. The sensation of being fucked out was probably the best thing that anyone has had the pleasure of experiencing. Her tiny hands try to grip Ari’s large ones, feeling his member split her apart as he continues to pound her against him. She feels as though he’s entered her mind. Fucking her from the inside out, her limbs hang loosely, body tingling when she feels her end approaching, feeling it in her toes, through her spine and at the tip of her head.

Y/n lets out a small scream, her throat sore from all the pleasing sounds she’s been letting out. Her fairy cunt gripping Ari’s member as she reaches pure bliss, spasming around the throbbing base. Her juices squirt out and cover her tiny body and the base of Ari’s cock, causing him to fuck it back into her as he chases his release.

Ari can feel his cock swell, his knot beginning to grow and lock inside the tiny fairy. No longer able to thrust anymore, he lets go of the built-up release and streams of cum fill Y/n up, stream after stream goes through her body and comes out of any hole it can. She tastes the saltiness of his cum as it flows out of her mouth. Her eyes begin to close as Ari starts to soften, and they wait for his knot to die down. The effects of the sex pollen begin to wear off. He slowly slips out of her and carries the sleeping fairy to his den, cradling her sore body carefully.

Once they’ve reached his home, her eyes begin to flutter open, and she looks around, confused, before Ari’s form comes into view. “It’s okay, little fairy. Bear not going to hurt you. How are you feeling? I’m so sorry. Do you want some water or food?” Her soft giggles fill the room as the giant man worries. His head tilts to the side as he looks at her, confused.

“I’m okay. Thank you for taking care of me. Are you okay?” His bright blue eyes stare at her as he crouches down, giving her a small smile whilst nodding. Ari’s hand comes closer and uses his fingers to stroke her hair, careful not to hurt her with his massive size. His other hand places it on his chest and points to himself.

“Ari, bear.” Before he points to you, “you, little fairy. Mine.” Ari beams as you nod your head, nuzzling against his giant hand. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[the-iceni-bitch]

53, 65, 100 w/ Nomad Steve?

53) “Is that a tattoo?”

65) “Pull my hair!”

100) “Call me selfish, but I don’t ever want anyone else to touch you.”

Ahh, nomad!Steve with a tattoo kink and a bit of a possessive streak? With hair pulling?

Nonnie, it’s like you came up with this to torment me specifically.

Smutty smut, no minors!!

You groaned as you tried to take off your shirt, your ribs creaking and a jolt of pain shooting up your side where Sam has caught you.

This almost never happened. You were faster than Wilson, and prided yourself on your ability to dodge every strike he tried to land and turn him into a frustrated mess. You thought you could handle him and Nat at the same time but she was so fucking sneaky that her slap caught you off guard and gave Sam the chance to land a solid kick to your midsection that had sent you flying across the mat.

You could still hear him apologizing as you winced, chewing your lip as you tried to assess whether anything was broken.

“Hey Y/N... what the fuck happened to you?”

“Rogers, perfect! I can’t get out of my shirt.” You said, turning to the giant and flapping your useless arm at him as he looked at you with concern.

“Ok, what do you want me to do exactly?” He said, cocking an eyebrow at you as he watched you struggling.

“Just... just fucking rip it off.” You huffed. “I can’t move my arm.”

He grunted as he stepped forward and gripped your shirt in his hands and shredded it easily, smirking at you as you let out a relieved sigh.

“Oh god, that’s it.” You moaned, rolling your shoulder and pressing your palm to your side as you started moving to the freezer to grab an ice pack.

“Wilson finally manage to land a hit?” He asked as he gazed at you, shaking his head when you hissed at the sensation of the ice on your ribs.

“Yeah, but only because Romanoff fights dirty.” You scowled, sinking onto the bench and lying down as you did your best to take deep breaths.

“Yeah, I could’ve told you that.” He said as he sat next to you. “Is that a tattoo?”

“What?” You said before realizing he’d never seen you with this little clothing on before. “Uh, yeah it’s a tattoo.”

“It’s beautiful.” He muttered, his hand reaching out hesitantly as if he wanted to run his fingers over the skin below your breasts but stopped himself at the last second. “What is it?”

“It’s a rosemaling.” You muttered, watching him closely as his eyes raked over the intricate pattern. “Norwegian folk art.”

“Can I see the rest of it?” He asked, his eyes dark as he gazed at you, his fingers still itching to reach for your chest.

“Steve, I’d have to take my bra off.” You mumbled as you chewed on your lip.

You’d never seen him like this. Sure, you’d joked with each other and flirted with no real intention before but this heavy exchange was different. Your breath was coming in shallow little pants and you could feel arousal soaking your panties as he scooted closer to you on the bench.

“That’s fine.” He grumbled, his gaze still tracing the path of the ink where it disappeared below the fabric.

He reached out and tugged at the zipper at the front of your bra, his eyes moving to yours as he drew it down slowly, inspecting you closely for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. You just bit your bottom lip and dropped the ice pack to the floor, your injury completely forgotten as he freed your breasts.

“Jesus Christ.” He hissed, running his thumb over the swirls of ink that ran between and under your breasts, tracing the swell of your tits and making you throb with need as you arched into his hand and let out a moan. “How long did this take?”

“Five hours.” You murmured, trying to focus on his questions as the sensation of his fingers on your skin overwhelmed you.

“God, that’s amazing.” He growled before pulling you into his lap and nuzzling himself into your skin.

You gasped as his tongue flicked out to run over the tattoo, the flat of his tongue tracing the curve of your breast as he followed the pattern over your chest. He groaned as he felt the slightly raised ridges of ink against his lips, his mouth insistent against your breasts as he worshipped the art of your skin.

His arms wrapped around you, pressing you into his face as he worked you over. You tangled your fingers in his hair as his beard scratched at you and he trailed over your ink with his lips and tongue. You cried out when he suddenly laved his tongue over your nipple before sucking it between his lips and making you clench around nothing.

“Fuck, Steve! I’m gonna come!” You whined as he moved to your other nipple and repeated the same process.

His only answer was to growl against your chest and press you into his lap as you swallowed a scream, your grip on his hair growing painful as your pussy fluttered wildly and your whole body shook. He held you tightly as you came down, panting against your chest.

“You have any other ink, sweetheart?” He purred as he finally felt you relax, your breath returning to a regular rhythm while you sank into his lap and he started to press soft kisses up your chest until he was mouthing at your throat.

“Yeah.” You grinned as his teeth scraped over your jaw. “Why? You wanna see?”

“Don’t fucking tease me gorgeous.” He growled. “Where is it?”

“Right leg.” You whimpered as he pressed you against his growing erection.

He moved to cover your mouth with his as he tore your leggings off you, his tongue curling against yours in slow smooth strokes as he laid you down on the bench and ground against you. He pulled away to sit up over you, leaving you breathless and needy as he gazed at your thigh.

His breath hitched as he took in the delicate pattern of vines and flowers that covered your entire leg, disappearing under the fabric of you panties as it moved up your hip. He ripped your panties off and traced over the ink lightly with his fingertips as he ran his tongue over his lower lip.

“Beautiful.” He whispered, taking a beat to gaze at you, your spine twisted to the side as you stared up at him.

You gasped as he ran his hand over the back of your thigh, teasing his thumb over your glistening pussy where it was peeking out from between your legs.

He let out a feral growl and then ripped off his clothes in a frenzy. Your mouth started watering when you got a look at his cock, thick and veiny and you weren’t totally sure you could take all of him but damn if you weren’t gonna give it a try.

He hooked his hand under your knee and spread your legs apart, using his other hand to tease his tip against your puffy lips. You let out an obscene moan as he pushed into you, arching your back even more as he slid his tip into your warm cavern.

“Shit, Steve, keep going!” You whined as he kept pulling you down on his length, your pussy fluttering wildly around his length as he stretched you open, a slight sting accompanying the immensely full feeling af being stuffed to the brim.

He hissed through his teeth when his hips met yours and you started mewling and whimpering like an idiot as you adjusted to him.

“Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking tight.” He muttered, pulling out of you halfway before sliding back in again at a deliciously slow pace.

He pulled out of you again but this time snapped his hips forward viciously, making you scream. His hands kept running over the tattoo on your thigh as he fucked you, his gaze trained on the tattoo under your breasts as your tits bounced with each thrust of his hips. You whined when he hooked your knee over his shoulder, spreading you open even further as he bent over you and ground his pubic bone against your clit.

“Oh fuck, Steve!” You cried as he did the same thing and you started clenching around him with each push of his hips. “Pull my hair! I’m so fucking close!”

He bent over you and pressed his face to yours, his lips tugging at yours insistently until you opened up to him. His hand gripped the hair at the back of your skull and wrenched your head back as he shoved his tongue down your throat.

“Do it. I wanna feel you come all over my cock.” He murmured against your lips as you sobbed with pleasure.

You shrieked as your entire body went rigid before vibrating around his cock as you squirted all over his abs and your eyes rolled back in your skull.

“Shit.” He growled as he buried his face in your neck, his cock throbbing inside you before he filled you with thick white ropes of his cum, fucking it into you with a series of staggered thrusts as the two of you collapsed against the bench.

“So,” you panted as he smothered you under his body weight. “You like tattoos?”

“Love tattoos.” He murmured, pressing his lips to the hollow behind your ear before sitting up and giving you a sloppy grin.

“Maybe I’ll let you watch when I get my next one.” You sighed as he pulled out of you, aftershocks still coursing through your body.

“That may not be the best idea.” He chuckled darkly as he went to grab a towel, biting his lip when he got a view of his cum leaking out of your swollen pussy. “Call me selfish, but I don’t ever want anyone else to touch you.”

You rolled your eyes at him, catching the towel he tossed you in mid-air and running it over the inside of your thighs.

“Well, unless you’re gonna give me the tattoo Rogers, I don’t really see how that’s gonna be possible.” Your ribs were starting to ache again, making you wince.

He didn’t have a chance to respond before Nat came strolling into the locker room like nothing was happening, laughing lightly as Steve dove behind the line of lockers and let out a steady stream of curses.

“Goddamn it Romanoff!” He swore at her while you rolled your eyes and tossed his sweats over the lockers to him. “Ever heard of knocking?”

“Ever heard of not fucking in the shared locker room?” She said with a shrug as you wrapped a towel around yourself and gave her an apologetic shrug. “Hey Wilson! They’re finished, you can finally pee!”

——————————————————————————

A/N: Welp, this has officially killed me. I’m gonna go shower now and cool down. 🥵🥵🥵🥵

[causeimhappinesss]

Warm me up, Captain - Chris Redfield (smut)

Pairing: Chris Redfield x reader

Warnings: smut + wrap your biscuit, please + slight spoilers (RE village) I guess?

Disclaimer: I’m french and even if I’m learning English for ten fucking years, it’s not perfect and I’m sorry if there are spelling or grammar mistakes. If English is your native language (or if you’re bilingual), I would really appreciate it if you could help me by correcting my errors. Just don’t be too harsh, please. :)

***

"I'm so sick of this shit..." you sighed. You knew you couldn't give up on your efforts so easily, let alone so close to the goal. You had to find Ethan first to stop him from doing anything and no matter how many times you begged Chris to tell him the truth because Winters was known for never giving up, he refused to listen to you. What a stubborn man!

You chattered your teeth, it was so cold, much colder than you imagined in the Carpathians, in Romania. Although you were wrapped up in relatively warm winter clothes, it didn't change the fact that the snow and the freezing wind in the middle of the night made it difficult for you to move forward. Shivers kept running through your body. The only thing that kept you from being totally frozen was the activity, the running, the eliminating of enemies; it warmed you up.

"You look freezing... Are you going to be okay? "

"Yes, Captain. "

You had joined his team for good reason and you had fought to be one of the best, you didn't intend to let your fragility faced with temperatures get the better of you. When you entered Heisenberg's factory, that crazy German or Austrian guy, you quickly encountered enemies to take down and soon you found yourself running through this creepy place from the first to the last level... During the operation, the team members scattered, looking for the master of the place and possibly Miranda. Arriving at the fifth level, Chris and you decided to take a break and examine the tank at your disposal... Taking advantage of the calm and the refuge that the place offered for the moment, immersed in the darkness, you rubbed your arms in reaction to the shivers that ran down your spine.

"I'm going to look around, to see if there's anything interesting. " you indicated, in a solemn voice, in order to scan the place with your eyes. Then you started to look around, in case you find a weapon, ammunition, a grenade or something else. Why not find a new lead, which would allow you to meet your objectives much faster.

"A cartridge! "you exclaimed with a thin smile. You bent down to pick up the bullets and put them away, aware that you would need them. It wasn't out of the question that you might run out at some point.

Chris studying the tank, ready to call your name, turned and froze when his gaze lingered on your ass. Suddenly he felt hot and couldn't rest his gaze on that part of your body. You hadn't known each other for months, the situation was horrible and complicated, but he was an older man with good taste in women. He had always thought you were beautiful and you were in front of him, in an exciting position. He wished he could stroke your curves, fuck you here and hear your moans, even though it wasn't safe to do it here... Why was he imagining all this? Now? He wasn't a twenty year old with raging hormones anymore! While fantasizing about you for less than a minute, he felt his cock harden in his black pants.

"Shit..." he swore into his beard as he looked down at his nearly invisible boner before feeling himself. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, trying to scroll through the most sickening images before his eyes that his brain could produce. His erection didn’t subside. When he opened his eyes, he swiveled slightly to the side, you had stood up and turned your beautiful and cute face towards him.

Without noticing his crotch problem thanks to the dim light and his dark pants, you moved closer to him, still rubbing your arms. It didn't escape his gaze and instinctively, he helped you to warm up with these frictions, much more efficient than you with his thick and chalky hands.

"T-Thank you, Captain..." you stammered, as your cheeks flushed with the closeness. You had always been attracted to Redfield, from the first time you saw him and talked to him. You liked everything about him: his kindness, his open-mindedness, his grumpy and stubborn side, his authority... Your face so close to his muscular chest, his hands on your arms, you dreamed of a simple hug, but you couldn't afford it... He was your superior! Suddenly, a bang and a shake from below pulled you out of your little bubble moment. You clung to his biceps, bumped into his chest and your lower abdomen pressed against his erection.

Your cheekbones flushed even more, if that's possible. You weren't that naive, you knew you were the reason for his erection. Your heart missed a beat. Your whole body was on fire. You had wanted Chris... for a long time. Some nights you dreamed of him, of him fucking you so hard. He was completely your type, even though you were in the middle of a major operation, you needed to kiss him, to enjoy the moment. Your breath quickened and you both stood up, bewildered

"I'm sorry, Y/N...” He sighed, scratching the back of his neck.

Too late to apologize, you wanted him to do everything you'd been dreaming of for months... Fuck you to the point you forget your own name.

"Kiss me." You cut him off, nervously. Was it right? No one could judge you at the time, but morally... You were a little confused. After all, he was your captain, your leader!

Without hesitation, Chris framed your face between his two thick, stubby hands. He pressed his lips to yours for a passionate kiss. One of his hands slid to your waist as your tongues danced wildly. It didn't feel wrong. You were ecstatic. It was as if you had known him for years and trusted him with your heart. Desire... Something that was hard to avoid. Hands everywhere, seeking body heat, discovering a new body. You admired his toned chest, tracing his abs and smooth skin with your fingertips, sensually.

It was a dangerous game to embark on a quick fuck, in such a place, that day, but you needed this. You couldn't imagine what was going to happen in the next few hours and you reminded yourself that life was short, especially these days... As much as possible, you needed to enjoy this sweet, sexual moment.

In a few moments, he ran his fingers over your body, pulled up your sweater, pulled down your bra to reveal your breasts, which he enjoyed titillating and kissing with fervor. Shivers ran through your whole body. Your pussy was getting wet and your wetness was sticking to the fabric of your panties. He got rid of your pants, while you opened his, lowered them, along with his boxers. With joy, you discovered a large and long veiny penis, reddish, twitching with desire. His kisses and embraces warmed your skin, feeling his lips brush against your chest, a teasing look on his face, to excite you like you'd never been before.

"Captain... Warm me up... I'm freezing..." you whispered in the hollow of his ear, mischievously.

His thumb traveled to your warm, wet center, between your thighs, before he gets ride of your panties. As he tickled your most sensitive part, you closed your eyes and a soft moan escaped your lips. He was experienced, that was obvious. He varied the pressure and movements on your clit to bring you up to cloud nine. His expert fingers plunged into your warmth, coming to tickle your oh-so-sensitive vaginal walls, while you craved his huge cock. You were trembling and exuding desire. You bit your lower lip to avoid being loud, at the same time you felt your first orgasm rising and before you could reach it, he stopped his movements. You opened your eyelids and came to caress his erect, hard member, its red head, covered with precum... You salivated with impatience. You made some movements of back and forth with your hand and if you dreamed to suck him, to make him beg you to make him cum, you knew that you didn't have much time, but you kissed the tip. Sighs of pleasure, almost inaudible, passed the barrier of his lips, as he threw his head back.

"Let me warm you up, Y/N..."

Finally, he stopped you in your tracks and with a simple gesture, you jumped. Your legs were wrapped around his pelvis as he supported you by your buttocks. With your back pressed against the wall behind you, you couldn't move as he was about to lead the way. The head of his pinkish cock titillated your wet, hot entrance, which begged him to take you. He knew how to drive you crazy, to the point where you dreamed of forcing him to impale you. Seeming to guess in your thoughts, to read in your eyes veiled with desire, he was in you with a single thrust.

"Oh fuck..." he moaned. You whined slightly together at the sensation. He let you adjust to his size before he began to move back and forth. The faster and more intense his thrusts were, the more you struggled to stay quiet. With one hand, he pressed his hand against your mouth as you tightened your legs around his hips, one hand on his buttocks to push his member further into you while the other played with his hair. You were drunk with love, with sex.

“Faster… Harder…” you wanted to say.

He quickened the pace, so much so that the pleasure became intense. Raucous moans escaped from his lips as you sobbed against his hand. You were gradually approaching orgasm, both at the same pace... At that moment, we could just hear your skins snapping, your faint moans, and the sound of your juices.

"You feel so good... So tight…" he whispered.

As your vagina tightened around his member during your orgasm, he lost control of his rhythm, he pounded into you brutally and it didn't take him long to ride his own orgasm. The feeling of intense well-being and euphoria took hold of him, letting his hot cum pour into your clenching pussy, filling you completely. Gradually, his movements stopped, although he was still supporting you... He finally withdrew, as droplets of his semen flowed from your orifice, reddened, until then martyred by his cock. A smile of satisfaction and euphoria stretched his lips.

"We should do this again when we leave this fucking village. " he annouced while sending you a wink.

***

Instagram (writer) : @carolinemertz_ 

AO3 : maybe one day? Still waiting to create an account aha

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Dark Side of the Gentleman - A Steve Rogers/Reader One Shot Story.

A quick and hot bit of Steve Rogers smut, as promised!

Word count - 1,013

Warnings - 18+, smut, rough sex, slightly dark!Steve

Tag list - @denisemarieangelina @hannel0re-blog  @movingmusically @ce-vans @thummbelina @dumb-ass-writer​ @mostly-marvel-musings​ @justjulie1105​

He’s unhappy, his bad mood still lingering upon his face, the way he grips you, fucks up into you with powerful purpose, trying to alleviate himself of the feeling as he pounds into you savagely. Your flesh smacks together, coupled by the lewd noise of his cock slamming into your slick pussy again and again, hands at your waist, short nails digging in.

You’re nothing but his vessel at that moment, but he wouldn’t use you as such if he didn’t know you loved it. Bracing your hands against his chest, your mouth drops open, releasing the groans evoked by his hardness battering against your cervix again and again, your legs tensing, pain and pleasure shooting through you in equal measures.  

He’s so savage, when he’s like this, and you? You can’t get enough.  

“Fuck me harder, Steve,” you demand, his hands moving to pull you down against him, arms locking around your frame, hips then driving up into you, a merciless jackhammer, taking out his temper on your sumptuous wetness, aggression riddling him as he moves your hair, sucking purple welts onto your neck, his teeth imprinting, hand smacking your ass hard.

“Is that what you want? Want me to ruin you, baby?”  

“Yes.” You breathe, eyes filling with tears as he spanks you again. You grip his thick shoulders, his teeth setting to your throat and biting so hard, you wail, making you fearful for a few moments. He’s never been quite this rough before. Grabbing your jaw, he pulls your head to look at him, slowing for a few moments.  

There in his eyes, past the fact he’s pissed off, past the fact his day has been the catalyst to this, is the love he has for you. You no longer feel scared.  

He continues to assail you with frenzied thrusts, cock plunging to your very depths, slippery with a thick gloss of your arousal, your moans animalistic in sound, completely annihilated by the rapacious delivery of his fuck. “My horny little whore. Like it when I fuck you rough, huh, princess?”  

You can barely form words, he’s nailing you so aggressively, the first tingles building and glowing before your lightning hits home, nails lacerating his chest as you rip them down his defined torso, cursing and shaking. His mouth dips, sucking your nipples as you come back down, cock still entering you keenly, his groans vibrating at your breasts.

The only recovery he gives you is slip out from beneath you, moving to kneel behind your quivering body and sink himself back inside your pulsing cunt. You thrum all over, Steve grabbing a handful of your hair to tear your head back, starting to arrow you with vigour all over again.

Telling him how incredible he feels, you reach back for yourself to stroke his slippery hardness as it shunts away within you, hot and wet, veiny ridges deliciously stimulating you, pleasure sizzling through your core.  

His groans are all gravel, watching his cock, flushed dark and rock rigid, as it slams into you with devastating force, overcome by the sight of good you look split around him.  

He reaches his own point of ebullience at rapid speed, gritting and cursing, withdrawing to shoot his load all over your back before throwing you over, tearing your legs apart and burying his mouth against your soaking folds.  

Your clit throbs against his tongue as he takes long, sweeping licks, his beard stimulating you, thick coarseness against your velvet wet, feeling like absolute heaven. You lose yourself to his mouth, fingers raking through his hair, nails grazing his scalp as he renders you a panting wreck, a mess against his tongue, sucking a mouthful of your cunt greedily, his groan all hunger.  

“Feeling happier now?”  

“Mmmhmm.”

“You often are with a mouthful of my pussy.” He grins against you, stopping to move back up your body, tongue licking a swipe along your torso and kissing you before back down he goes, content to continue bestowing the heaven that is his mouth.

His arms wrap around your legs, hands gripping your thighs, tongue taking long, flat licks at you, letting you writhe against it, your hardened little bud bathed in the incessant wet heat of each thoroughly licked circle he then bestows upon it.

He pants against you, his arousal ablaze, sucking, licking and kissing you until he senses your ascent, driving you there with fast licks over your clit. “Cum for me, honey.”  

His words have you there just as much as each potent flicker of his tongue, shattering against him, your hands yanking at his hair as you ride out your release, Steve harder than iron for you.  

Plunging his cock back inside you, he enjoys the flutters of your orgasm around him, leaning forward to kiss the side of your neck, moving to claim your mouth, biting your lower lip as he groans wantonly.  

He fills and empties you steadily to begin with, before the beast in him is stirred again, thrusting into you wildly, hands clutching your ankles as he holds your legs high and wide.  

The pace continues to be nothing short of rapacious, his hand falling down to press your clit with his thumb, circling softly, captivated by the sight of his glistening hardness enter and retreat from you voraciously.  

“I want you to cum in me, Steve,” you urge, causing him to rut against you harder, chasing his release, the joyous sweep of pleasure gathering within him. “Come on, baby. You take it all out on me, ruin me.”  

Your words evoke fire to crackle through his groin, moaning uncontrollably, his eyes shutting tightly as his body tenses, flames rising up his spine as he grunts out every twitch of his release, coming deep inside you with hard, unbridled thrusts. His chest heaves in the aftermath, sweat soaked, looking utterly delicious after pumping out every last wave of his release into you. 

“Happier now?”

“Yes, baby. Thank you.”  

Even when he’s been utterly savage with you, he could never be accused of forgetting his manners.  

[foodieforthoughts]

Here's a thought for you. Syverson helping his pregnant wife with a perineal massage that slowly descends into utter filth *runs as people start pelting me with tomatoes while shouting 'WHORE!' 'WHORE!' and slinks back into my underground cave*

Omg! My baby maker Sy to the rescue of his pregnant wife 😍 I had so much fun writing this and it's educational too. Although I would like to point out, always! Consult your OB before engaging in activities (sexual or otherwise) while pregnant.

Also I had decided to post requests once a week but it's Sy and Mondays should always begin with some Sy lovin' 🤭

Warning: 18+, smut, pregnant reader, oral (female receiving), pregnancy kink, breeding kink, fingering, basically everything Sy is good at 😜

*gif credit to owner*

Title: Baby mama

"Comfortable?" Sy wiped his hands on a clean towel, kneeling down at the end of the bed. You had your body nestled in your soft, fluffy pregnancy pillow. It wasn't required for you to get naked but the last weeks of your term had you hot and flushed, with being in your 'birthday suit' your only comfort outfit.

You massaged your swollen belly bringing your knees up and spreading your thighs out, letting your body relax while watching Sy grab the bottle of coconut oil placed on the mattress.

"I do not like the idea of your kid tearing out of my body." You grimaced as Sy smeared the oil on your perineum, rubbing it lightly over your folds. You couldn't see him because of your belly with the feel of his fingers and the sound of the bottle cap popping being your only indication of what was happening in the nether region.

Sy chuckled and moved to peer at you from the side of your knee. "Which is why we have to do this. Doc said it'll help with the delivery."

You craned your neck to look at your husband. "I might just tell her to give me a c-section."

"Maybe we'll do that with the next one."

You scoffed. "Funny you think I'll let you put another baby in me after this one comes out."

A shit eating grin appeared on Sy's face before he went back to his place between your thighs. "We'll see about that." You heard him say as he placed a soft kiss on the inside of your thigh. "Just relax okay?"

You took a deep breath preparing yourself for what was to come next. You winced as you felt Sy's index fingers enter your hole. You had begun dreading the usually pleasurable experience as he applied a little downward pressure to stretch you out. The burning sensation was normal but it felt weird to be letting yourself feel it on purpose which involuntarily made you clench.

"Relax, baby. Just a minute." Sy cooed counting the seconds out loud.

You closed your eyes and focused on breathing normally. When one minute was up, Sy massaged upward on the insides of your folds which pulled out a moan from your lips.

"Baby, don't be moanin' like that now." Sy grumbled, a strain in his voice as he spoke. You laughed, feeling relaxed and satisfied that you could still have that kind of effect on your husband even after four years of being married.

Five more minutes of repeating the same maneuver and you were not as tensed about the whole thing anymore. In fact you were a moaning mess as Sy massaged with tender touches around your pussy. You cupped your engorged breasts in your hands and pinched your nipples as arousal bubbled in the pit of your belly.

"Sy." You moaned out his name when you felt his thumb graze over your increasingly sensitive clit. It was like the permission Sy was seeking as soon after you felt his warm mouth on your nub. He brought his hands up on your belly, slowly running his hands over your skin.

Kissing the inside of your thighs, Sy relaxed you in more ways than one. "You are so beautiful, baby." He mumbled against your skin. Warmth flushed on your cheeks with his compliment and also made it's way to your core. You arched your back the best you could to get his attention back to where you needed his mouth to be.

A shaky moan escaped your lips as his tongue worked on your clit and his fingers rubbed slow, languid circles on your quivering hole. He kept your folds open with his fingers as he sucked and licked you. Sweat covered your body with tense knots forming in your belly with the pleasure building up. You whimpered as his digit teased your entrance, nudging inside with slow pumps. You panted with the thrusts of his finger, letting go of your breasts and clutching the softness of the pillow.

"Oh, fuck Sy. That feels so good." You managed to speak in between your huffs, rutting your hip to get closer to Sy's face more than it already was. You groaned as he added another finger, hooking them to rub against the swollen bundles of nerves inside you. You wanted to watch him eat you out but it wasn't possible with your pregnant state, it drove you crazy that you couldn't even hold onto him while he provided you with the most exhilarating experience.

But Sy knew you too well by now. He knew how you liked to grab onto his shoulders when you chased your high. He extended his hand to reach you which you grasp with urgency, entwinining your fingers with his and closing your eyes as your heart raced with your orgasm just a thrust away. With a straining moan your pussy clenched around his fingers, releasing the knots of pleasure and making you arch your back as the orgasm rippled through your body in waves. You shuddered as Sy licked your juices clean, your thighs shivering as his tongue ran over your overtly sensitive clit.

You panted trying to catch your breath, resting against the cushion with your legs falling limply on the side. Sy came up to you, grinning from ear to ear. You noted the tent in the front of his pants, his erection straining against his shorts. His beard glistened with the mixture of your essence and the oil. You brought your hand to cup his face with Sy leaning into your touch.

"Fuck me, Sy." You pleaded. You hadn't felt him inside you since you entered the 34th week of your pregnancy. He was too careful around you now, only pleasuring you with his mouth and his hands.

"Patience, baby. Just a couple more weeks." He kissed your pouty lips, chuckling as you looked at him with fake anger.

You reached down to the front of his pants, palming his cock through the fabric. He groaned and bucked his hips into your hand instinctively. He 'tsk-ed' and shook his head. But you were adamant on returning the favour. You half turned your body, reaching at his waistband with both hands, biting your lip and looking up at him from under your lashes.

Tugging at his shorts and freeing his hardened length, you watched your husband lick his lips with his blue orbs darkening with lust. You grabbed his thick, veiny, pulsating cock, giving it a long stroke and whispering, "Maybe you can fuck my mouth."

[ozarkthedog]

Stuck Between a Rock and a Hard D***

Summary: After a Welcome Home party, you get stuck in a uncompromising position and Chris can’t seem to help himself.

Pairings: Drunk!Chris Evans x Drunk!Female Reader

Warnings: SMUT. Intoxication. Swearing. Slight Degradation. Confined Spaces. Anal Play.

Word Count: 2,236

A/N: This idea popped into my head and it was so silly I just couldn’t help but write it. I tried to have his “Drunk” state come across hence all the slurring words. Hope it’s not that annoying to read! This drunk Boston boy has “mah” heart. 💙 

No Beta

📖 Master list  

Reblogs and Likes are amazing! Feedback and Comments are encouraged!

Energetic music, copious amounts of liquor and sounds of splashing from the pool filled the dusky sky as the ‘Welcome Home’ party was in full swing on this humid August night.

Chris was finally home after 3 months away and what better than to throw a little bash. Friends and family were sprawled out over the backyard of Chris’ Concord house laughing and carrying on as you sipped on your wine.

You swirled the tart liquid around your tongue and leaned against a patio chair, watching as Dodger ran around with the younger kids. Their screams of enjoyment sounded noisily as they ran from the mutt.

“Get ‘em Bubba!” You heard Chris yell from across the yard.

Beer in hand, cap on backwards and dancing like a fool. Your boy was home.

Warmth filled your belly as you watched him laugh and play a yard game with a few of his friends, all yelling with excitement when someone got the small sack in the hole.

He caught your eyes from across the lush backyard and held it with a sly stare. He licked his lips lewdly knowing what it’d do to you.

You shook your head and drank down the rest of your wine, trying not to get too worked up. There would be plenty of time for that tonight, you smirked to yourself as the pleasant haze of the liquor settled in your belly.

-

After a while, the party started to dwindle. You and Chris gave hugs and bid goodbyes as the night came to a close.

For a moment, you and Chris just stared at one another on the slate patio. A days’ worth of playful glances coming to a head.

You smoothed down your light summer dress, unsure of what to do now that you were finally alone after so much time apart.

The alcohol made his face flush a few shades lighter than the red t-shirt he wore which made him endearing even though his eyes were darkening by the minute.

The amount of lust that radiated off the two of you was hostile, but you pushed it aside as you peered over the various empty beer bottles and half eaten food platters.

“Ugh, we should clean this up.” You picked up an empty beer can before tossing it back onto the table with a laugh.

“Nah, let’s do it tomorrow.” Chris suggested, stalking over to you.

Your breathing escalated as his face held a serious expression despite the slight slurring, “I wanna fuck mah Girl right now.”

You giggled nervously at his tone. The alcohol made everything seem way too funny, but his intense stare had your core clenching.

You knew what would happen if he got his hands on you and you wanted to draw out the yearning just a little bit longer.

“Only if you can catch me!” You shout, before running away like the drunken idiot you were.

You ran up the steps of the patio as carefully as your inebriated self could and crawled through the small dog door Chris had installed for Dodger a year ago.

Halfway through, you heard Chris’s muffled, hysterical laughter through the door. You knew he was doubling over in a fit, which allowed you to more time to crawl through the narrow opening.

You were in the clear as you pushed on the balls of your toes, shimmying your lower half through when suddenly, “OOF!”

Your hips collided with the casing of the small pet door. You started laughing at what a silly idea this was until you moved to pull back and your upper body catches on the frame.

You try again but the door nudges against your armpits causing your arms to flail out in front of you on the den floor.

“Oh, fuck! Chris! I’m stuck!” You yell frantically, kicking your feet on the slate patio.

You try to push yourself through even though you knew your hips were too wide. The small plastic door thumping against your head with every jostle.

“What!?” Chris shouts, incredulously.

 “I’m stuck!” You scream into the empty room as he kneels down next to your torso less frame. 

“Are yah serious?”

“What do you think?!”

Chris busts out laughing again, falling to his hands on the patio. His abs hurt as he tries to stop laughing when you let out a number of swears.

He coughs away the laughter and lays a hand on your lower back. “Ok. Ok. Ok. Ya’ll will be fine. We’ll get yah loose.” He slurred, calming you down through the door.

His hands cover your hips and pulled only to have your armpits halt his actions. “I already tried that you, Meatball.” The buzz from the wine still flowing through your veins.

“What are we going to do?” You utter, finishing with a hiccup.

“I’ll get my tools. But first…” His deep, quiet voice alerted you.

“What is it?” You asked anxiously, thinking one of your friends was coming up the driveway. You’d be mortified if they found you like this.

But then a warm hand slid down the curve of your ass and settled on the top of your hamstring. 

“I’m gonna have some fun.” Chris declared with a playful tone.

Your eyes go wide when you feel him flip your summer dress over your hips and press his growing hard on against your ass. The dark jeans rubbed against your ass with every languid thrust.

“Chris! You can’t!” You shriek upon realizing his intentions.

“Who says? Look at mah girl on all fours, ripe fa the takin’.” His eyes are glassy and ravenous as he grinds against your heat, the thin panties doing nothing to hide your quickly growing arousal.

Your mouth goes slack and eyes flutter when you feel him straining through his jeans. Heady lust swarms your system, taking control regardless of the uncompromising position.

“Looks like someone is enjoyin’ being stuck.” He rasped, unzipping his jeans and sliding his cock head across the soaked material of your panties.

He pulls the drenched thong to the side, groaning when he sees how ready you are. “What a fuckin’ pretty pussy.” He bends down, swiping his tongue threw your folds eliciting a surprised gasp from your lips.

You slam a hand onto the floor as he prods your core with long licks and lewd slurps. “God, I missed yah taste.” He confessed and nuzzled his face back into your heat. The way his beard scratched over your thighs made your back arch, giving him better access.

Your tight opening clenched when he poked his tongue into your core, thrusting the strong muscle in and out with quick jabs before going lower.

He flicked at your clit with hard swipes causing your belly to somersault. Frantic gasps bounce off the den walls with every stroke forcing your pleasure to mount rapidly.

Just as your bliss was about to peak, Chris pulled back with a slick covered smirk. “Nawt so fast, Sweetheart.”

You whined your frustration and laid your head on the cool flooring. You wiggled your hips in the air desperate for any friction and heard him snicker before he smacked your wandering behind with a heavy thud.

“I ain’t felt this cunt in months.” He stated with a deep growl, rubbing his pulsing crown through your inner lips.

His nails scratch the swell of your naked ass, “And yah only cummin’ when my cock is buried deep inside yah.”

You bit your lip knowing what was coming. The intense energy was palpable all night and it was only a matter of time before you two met in a tangle of limbs.

Chris lines up and ever so slowly pushes into your wanton core.

Your smothering heat enveloped his cock as he split you open with a gravely groan. “Fuck.”

Your head sagged between your arms as you felt your walls stretch around his girth. It’d been too long; you’d forgotten just how big he was. A high pitched mewl slipped from your throat, nails scratching at the floor when he finally bottomed out.

The base of his cock spreading you just a bit more around him. “God, yah cunt is choking the life outta me.”

He pulls back slowly before thrusting all the way in. Your cervix swirls around his bulbous tip making him grunt and grasp your hips with a harsh grip.

The animalistic urge to claim diminished when he felt your walls squeeze around his veiny thickness. His hips bumped against your ass with every stroke lightly knocking your hips against the door. 

You mewled when he parted your cheeks, spreading your pussy even wider for him.

“So many nights I took myself in mah hand picturin’ this sweet, little pussy.” His brows pinch in pleasure hearing your muffled cries of rapture through the door.

“I couldn’t get off hard enough knowin’ I wasn’t balls deep inside yah fillin’ yah with my cum.” His admission made your belly tighten. The knot so close to snapping as his hips shoved into your soaked heat with fervor.

His secure hold on your hips slips from the sweat tainting your skin. He smooths his fallen hand over your ass, spreading it open and exposing your asshole.

Your breath catches when you feel him spit onto your exposed hole, thumbing his saliva around as it clenched under his touch. The groan he let out when he watched your tight ring spasm beneath his thumb was sinful.

You whimpered into the flooring with every thrust of his cock as he teases your puckered rim. “I could finally take this untouched hole and there wouldn’t be anythin’ yah could do to stop me.” Your pussy convulsed around his length at the ominous threat.

“Chris…” Your body arched under his assault when he circled your rim with a meticulous touch.

You lock down with a vice like grip on his length as he drives your orgasm head on. You slap at the flooring and shout out your release all over his meaty cock.

He growls in admiration, “Look at the mess yah made all over me, yah naughty girl.”

He snapped his hips hard causing you to yelp out in painful pleasure, your cervix taking the brunt of each shove. The torturous pain ebbed and flowed with the bliss he was forcing on your worn-out body. Tremors ran up your spine as he pummeled you into another orgasm so close behind the first.

“Wish I could see yah face, bet yah look so wrecked takin’ mah cock.”

He let out a surprised groan as you came around him again, mewling nonsense and shrill yelps from behind the door.

“Fuck! Cumming on mah dick outside where anyone could see.” He smacked your ass eliciting a pained gasp from your lips.

He picked up speed, thrusting into you with a punishing pace intent on driving you to another orgasm with his on the precipice.

Chris gathers some of your cum and drags it around your asshole, making it shine with slick. Your eyes rolled back when he tenderly pushed his thumb into you, feeling his cock pass by through the thin tissue with every shove.

“God, yah so pretty bent over with yah holes filled to the brim.”

He grits, feeling you clench around his girth and frantically calling out for him.

“Come on, cum on mah cock one more time. Give me that sweet cunt.” His thumb pulls on the side your hole, making you feel the stretch and forces your orgasm to explode through your core. Both your holes tighten as you cum, dragging Chris along with you.

His hips slam into yours rapidly, searing pleasure burning through his veins as he cums with a growl. His seed painting your channel, soaking you with him.

He pants heavily as he leans his head on the door, “God damn, I’ve missed this.” 

You whimper from the emptiness when he pulls from your heat.

His cum slipping from your core, staining your inner thighs making you shiver.

“What a sight.”

You hear a shutter click and realize he just snapped a photo. “Chris!”

“Hey, this doesn’t happen all the time. I want somethin’ to remember this.” He slaps your ass making you jolt.

“Believe me, I will never forget this.” You utter with an embarrassed groan and shift uncomfortably on the hard slate. “Chris can you go get your tools, my knees are starting to hurt.”

“Oh fuck. Yeah, here kneel on mah shirt. I’ll be right back.” He rips his shirt off and slides it under your knees before running off to the garage.

You sighed into the floor still dumbfounded that you even though you could fit through the tiny door. The alcohol was slowing wearing off making this predicament even worse just as Chris came back. 

“Chris, are you still really drunk? Should you be working with tools right now?” You asked, leaning your face onto your hands. You really didn’t want him hurting you or himself.

Chris sat back a moment and chewed on his lip. “Yah, know... yah might be right. I only brought a hammer and I don’t think that will work.”

“Fuck.”

“Don’t worry Sweetheart, Imma call Mom she’ll know what to do.” Chris said with a smile, taking out his cell.

You hid your face in your hands with a pitiful groan knowing his family would never let you live this down.

[fourmarkdove]

Upstate.

Title: Upstate. | Masterlist

Summary: When the Captain learns you’ve kept a secret all these years, he’s more furious than he’s ever been.

Pairing: Syverson x Reader

Words: 5.5k

Warnings: 18+ Smut. Angst, breeding kink, daddy kink, size kink, rough sex, dirty talk. Infertility/PCOS. 

A/N: Had this in my drafts forever and sort of forgot I wrote it. Comments are welcome! Thanks for reading!

~

It wasn’t supposed to take this long to get pregnant.

It just wasn’t.

You went on the pill shortly after you met, which wasn’t the most glamorous story, but that one drunken pounding against the ladies bathroom wall just days before he was set to ship out set the tone for your relationship. At least in the beginning.

He did two more tours after that. The first time he was on leave, he dropped to a knee, all suntanned and scruffy, after dinner at your favorite little fish shop on the pier.

“We haven’t known each other so long, but your sweet voice on those phone calls, babydoll. They keep me goin’ when I feel like there’s not much reason to.”

That last time he promised, “We’re gonna settle down for good. You an’ me an’ our brood. Daddy just has some unfinished ass to kick, but don’t you worry, sweetness. Nothin’ but picket fences and backyard barbecues soon as I get back.”

You said of course you’d marry your coarse, burly soldier and there never was a happier man who swept up his girl on that pier in a yellow sundress.

You never thought you’d see the day when your hardline, take no bullshit, don’t give em’ an inch Captain would shed a tear - let alone in public - but he did just that the moment he turned his shoulder and saw you in the just barely off-white dress.

He swept his woman off your feet, saying he wanted to be a gentleman and treat you right. But you knew by the intensity of his gaze and how he barely glanced at the pretty white lingerie before he started tearing it off your body that he was going to have trouble being gentle. Not that you minded. You had no regrets when it came to this swollen beast of a man filling every hole, manipulating your body in unnatural positions because you were smaller and he was strong as a horse and built like a brick wall. He’d pin your wrists to the bed above your head and gorge on your heaving tits, or grip behind your knees and have your feet bouncing behind his thick neck, until you were a sweat slick, foul mouthed whore begging for more of his meaty shaft pounding you into a moaning, senseless mess. You thought growing up there’d be something magical and pure about being a new bride dressed in white giving yourself over, blushing and shy, to the man you promised to love forever.

The reality was so much more visceral. All you wanted for days on end was his thick body forcing your thighs open, his hands gripping your flesh, fingers leaving bruises on your hips, crushing kisses that nearly made you faint, the salty taste of his sweat and cum dripping from your lips and cunt, rolling down your thighs, smeared onto the teeth marks he left around your nipples and on your ass like a soothing balm. The only soundtrack in the house was the grunting feral sounds over you as if he willed his very being into yours through the force of each veiny thrust. And the lewd slapping of flesh against flesh, sometimes muted just a bit by the rough hair trailing down his torso leading to his monster cock. The sound of his thighs clapping against your ass and thighs as he fisted your hair and drove himself into your cervix never ever got tiresome.

When he’d get too close, he’d devour your cunt, biceps and forearms flexing and lifting you to his face, swallowing every drop of your slick mixed with his, swirling his thick tongue over your sensitive clit, feeding the mixed liquids back inside your slit. He’d drop to a knee and spread you over his shoulders if you didn’t make it to bed, or in bed, he’d trail down your body, nipping and biting, picking up your skin between his teeth, flashing those blue eyes up at you. He loved going down on his woman maybe even more than burying his throbbing cock, so he’d always glance up to see your lashes flutter, eyes roll back, lips part and scream silently as he gorged on your sex. His beard scratched between your thighs and made you that much more sensitive but fuck you loved it and he loved marking you. He’d sink his sharp canines into the crease of your thigh and bite down just hard enough to make you cry out and arch for him.

By the time you were begging to come and whimpering his name like a prayer, he’d force his heavy, uncut cock all the way inside and start grinding, flexing every muscle in his core powering the grunting snaps of his hips into yours, seeking both of your release. And his mouth would get so filthy pressed to your ear.

“Gonna fuckin’ fill you up with all this cum. Not gonna be able to walk straight for weeks. That’s right spread wider for me. Fuckin’ give me that cunt. You’re gonna take it all like a good girl aren't ya? Get you all round - knocked up with my seed over and over. All that thick cream in these balls is just for you. That’s right. You want it? Milk it, babe.”

He growled and groaned, slapping his balls against your ass, all of the things that made you gasp and close down on him. You’d come first. Always. pulling the head of his cock right up against your cervix. He’d keep thrusting through your orgasm and his followed quickly after.

His big body could crush you under his weight but you loved it, practically demanded it, so he’d half roll off, resting mostly on his side and forearm and hip, while he panted into your hair on the pillow. But you wanted him all over your skin. The musky scent of his, still rolling down his hot skin, sweaty and thick with pheromones and sex, from working so hard to get both of you off over and over, you had no way to explain how you loved it - except by licking up the side of his neck and suckle kissing behind his ear while he panted into the pillow, his bicep and forearm heavy across your chest or around your hip, still holding you possessively.

He’d chuckle, still panting and turn his head on the pillow. Voice still rough from the beating his vocal cords took while he growled, huffed, groaned and barked instructions to you, he’d whisper in those quieter moments.

“Insatiable, kitten. Gimme a minute. Daddy knows what you need.”

You’d turn over in his weighty, tree bough arms and nuzzle into his hairy chest, feeling his thumping heartbeat hard and steady under your fingers. Tree trunk legs could pull all of you into him, and he’d fold you into his center, so not a single inch of you would have to touch sticky bed sheets when he rolled over onto his back. Thick fingers spread across your back, soothing over your roughed up skin, lifting your hair off of your sweaty neck, until the cool air in the room and his perpetually hot skin balanced to the perfect temperature somewhere in the middle.

It went on like that for three, six, nine months once he was home for good. Only two things changed as the months went on. His chocolate curls grew and spilled onto his forehead - which you loved to run your hands through - and you conceded the beard stays if the curls do too.

You came off the pill immediately, from that first night he came home, and never went back to it.

“Sweetness, don’t stress about it,” he’d coo gently, finding you curled up in bed or in the bathroom, sitting alone in the empty back bedroom in the new house. He’d try to squeeze the sadness out of your body every single month with his huge bear arms.

“It’s fun to try again, ain’t it?” he’d wiggle his eyebrows, and make you giggle through the tears. The more playful he was about it, the harder he leaned into trying everything he could to make it easier on you, so that meant a lot of research on websites. He never in a million years thought he’d be reading up on ‘luteal phases’.

He never had to be told twice that you might be ovulating. You’d whisper it to him sometimes he’d sense it. In bed, he’d smell that wet heat before you even backed your ass up against him, wiggling your aching core against the base of his raging erection. Slipping his big hand down your tummy and into your panties, he’d slide a long couple fingers through your slick heat, spreading your pussy lips achingly wide before withdrawing his hand and wrapping his other arm around the front of your shoulders.

“Mmph looks like you’re ready,” he’d groan, checking the viscosity of your juices. Spreading your slick between his fingers, he’d lick at it, gripping you tighter as you’d smirk and work your hips mercilessly on his dick.

That one taste would be enough to work him into a rutting frenzy though. “Got damnit, I need a taste,” he’d growl, climbing down and burying his face between your thighs. His mouth and beard would come up glistening with your juices and he’d look positively lust drunk on the stuff. Spreading his knees, he’d hoist your thighs up onto his, spreading your knees over his hips, so he’d be able to have a perfect look at your swollen cunt.

Pupils dilated and breathing hard, he’d pinch the hood of your clit and stroke it between his finger and thumb, making you squeal and writhe, pulling your own hair. He was in awe of your pussy every time he actually looked at that tiny, suckling hole - how in the world did you manage to stretch and accept his girthy cock? It had to hurt, right? It HAD to. Gripping your hips, he pulled you up to himself, one forearm supporting under your ass, and the other around your back. Touching foreheads, he nuzzled you lovingly.

You kissed him hungrily, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip before letting go. Hair mussed and giving him the darkest look, rolling your hips in his lap, you purred deep. Much to your confusion, he was the one to slow things down, smiling in his gorgeous blue eyes, kissing over your forehead, temples, eyelashes, nose, each lip.

“I wanna give you everything, babydoll,” he sighed, dropping his head to kiss over your shoulder.

Arching your back, you had him grip onto your hands and ease you, still spread over his hairy thighs, back onto the bed.

“Put a baby in me,” you demanded. He huffed out a sharp breath, puffing out his cheeks, before plunging two thick fingers into your cunt, scissoring his fingers to stretch you out. You shrieked and moaned in pleasure, arching deeply.

He could have been gentle but those five little words; that demand of yours. You were his new CO and when he received orders, he ploughed through at a punishing pace.

“Gotta prime these walls,” he grunted, thrusting his fingers in and out, turning his hand so he could rub sloppy juices spilling out of your cunt. Leaning over, he pressed his palm against the mattress next to your head and did something near a one handed push up, coming nose to nose with you.

“Why we gotta prime walls, baby?”

You whined as he flexed and slipped a third thrusting finger into your slurping cunt, begging for something larger to grip onto.

“We prime…” you panted, clawing across the tense muscles in his chest, “because you’re gonna… paint my walls… with your seed.”

Giving you his tongue, he withdrew his fingers and smeared his fingers over his precum-leaking meaty member. Just pushing it down to the right angle and you arched, digging your toes into his tree trunk thighs as you accepted his cock into your aching insides. You cried out, tossing your head back, but that just made him latch onto your throat and thrust into your cervix like a battering ram.

You screamed his name two, maybe three times, and he bared his teeth, growling and swearing, struggling to hold on, planking on his forearms desperate not cum yet while your smaller slippery body, squirmed and writhed under him. One second you were hissing and gasping, sinking your teeth and nails into his shoulders or biceps. The next you’d sob and dig your feet in, because you were so stretched and so sensitive. If he could just hold on that second longer, you’d grab at his ass, let your thighs open up and release your massaging death grip on his cock still buried as deep as he last thrust before you clamped down on him to begin with. Then he slowed just a bit to kiss your panting mouth as the orgasmic shockwaves relaxed. Your deep purr indicated you were ready for more, so he’d catch under your knees and fold you in half, pounding your body at a different angle.

When it was time, he bore his teeth and groaned, burying his face in your neck, getting sloppy with his thrusts until the last two that were exceptionally deliberate, seeding white hot cum directly to the source, his slit ground mercilessly against your cervix, for a direct shot at emptying himself into your womb.

When all was said and done, you’d toss him a pillow and he’d kneel between your legs, pushing the pillow under you to keep your hips elevated. Hooking his arms under your thighs, he kissed all around your sensitive mound. Kissing inside your thighs, he could thumb your swollen lips apart and see how completely full he’d filled you, to the point of leaking, but neither of you minded. If it wasn’t too tender, he’d clean you up with his tongue before lying down with you again, closing your legs, and drawing both your knees up over his hip.

You assured him every time that the pain was hardly anything as you shuddered and clung onto his imposing frame. It was only the last couple of months that instead of giggling and demanding ice cream in bed after what you both agreed was the best sex anyone on the planet was having, you just wanted to be held.

“Shhh, shhh... I got you, sweetness,” he’d soothe, drawing up blankets, rubbing you all over. He’d tuck you into his chest, and you’d curl up even smaller, your soft little body trembling against his twitching muscle always felt amazing before. But not when it came with tears. You hid your face away when he asked what was wrong, but he felt the little puffs of held breath and silent tears falling into his chest hair.

Finally, finally, one night spent cradling you in his arms and kissing your tears away, he convinced you. And you didn’t just break your silence.

You shattered.

“Doc told me years ago... it isn’t... I’ll never have…babies of my own. My hormones are all wrong for it. She said shots, maybe IVF but… even conceiving… even if possible, it’d be…”

The worried lines around his eyes and across his forehead smoothed out as he stared at the blinking red light on the smoke detector above the bed. He stayed quiet, putting an arm behind his head.

“I hoped I would have found a better way to tell you all this before now.”

“You knew before we met?” His voice was uncomfortably calm. “Five years ago.”

“Yes, but I didn’t mean to—“

“Ya kept it from me. No indication whatsoever there were problems on the home front, though.”

“I hoped I wouldn’t ever have to say anything because we’d somehow be pregnant by now and—“

“Ya let me think everything was fine. Told me, “Come on home, soldier. Let’s try workin’ on that family again.’ And I did. Every tour. I came crawlin’ home to you.”

Sitting up against the headboard, he flicked on the bedside lamp and scratched his beard, eventually dropping his upturned hands on his thighs, displaying his defeat.

Even though you wore his shirt from the night before and he was naked, barely covered by the bedsheet, you felt entirely exposed. You wanted to dissolve into liquid and melt into the floor or shed your skin and slink into a nook and never come out again.

His wide eyes plead with you: ‘give me something substantial to grasp onto. Toss a rope and a damn good reason for all of the lies to a drowning man.’

There was only one reason, but you couldn’t bear saying it out loud. You couldn’t the entire time you knew him.

Slipping his hand behind your neck, he thumbed your chin up to look at him. “You thought I wouldn’t want ya if I knew, huh.”

Your bottom lip quivered but he didn’t let you collapse into yourself. Looking over your tense, teary, flushed features thoughtfully, he stayed silent. He had a way of looking still as a sheet of ice while a raging current boiled just underneath. That kind of stillness gave those under his command confidence because even amidst chaos, he made solid decisions. Ones that saved their lives, kept them out of harm's way.

In that moment, you felt no confidence. Sitting on your knees expectantly, you trembled all over. He moved his thumb down from your chin as he inhaled audibly, and furrowed his brow exhaling forcefully, wrapping his massive hand around your throat.

The moments waiting made your ears hot and the blood rush to your face. Tightness crept across your chest. You broke the silence first or you’d have lost your mind.

“You’re angry.”

He chuckled ruefully and went placid in an instant. “Angry. Mmm... Yes, that is one way to describe it, darlin’. Never more so, as a point of fact.”

Swallowing down tears, if he wouldn’t let you drop your head, at least you could close your eyes.

“No.” His calloused thumb stroked up and down the side of your neck. “No—no, you don’t get to do that. Not with me.”

“Please, Sy!” You burst, holding onto his wrist with both hands. “Please say something! I can’t take it!”

He sniffed and took his hand back, rubbing them together instead of touching you any longer. His broad shoulders lifted and dropped. “Not quite sure what to say.”

“I’m so sorry.”

He couldn’t look at you, not entirely, so he arched a brow and gave a sideways glance. His voice was rough and deep with more emotion than either of you anticipated. “I was uh… unapproachable?”

Lifting your head from your hands, it made your heart shred into a pulp seeing the lifted brows and pained expression tensing his features. “What?”

“Unapproachable,” he graveled, cursing the emotion that made him choke up. “Fuck. I know I can be direct. I been tryin’ real hard to be gentle with you. Did I give the impression you couldn’t, ya know, tell me things?”

“No, of course not, Sy. I tell you everything.”

His smoldering ember pile only needed a breath of fresh air before it came roaring to life, consuming these new logs you’d placed on top.

“Gotdamn it. You knew this was important to me. The way you carried on, let me believe we had a life together. A future. With our family. Do I even know you?”

Smoke from the fire burning inside him made your eyes sting and water.

“Please, stop it, Sy,” you pleaded, pulling away from his grasp. “Please!”

The flames of anger - or was it hate - turned his pupils dark and made him somehow appear even larger with each deep breath.

“How do I know where the lies stop and you begin?”

Embers of his rage floated in the air and easily took to you like the driest kindling. You exploded unlike you never had before. Fists balled and panting, you squared your shoulders up and shifted your weight.

“You know what? Fine. Here’s the truth: I was barely 18 when the doctor looked at me and said, ‘consider adoption’. I wasn’t even thinking about kids then, only why I had cramps every month but no period.

“We’ve tried correcting hormones for years with so little success I’ve felt like a goddamn science project while my friends moved on, grew up, got married, raised families. Do you know how devastating it is to slog through one of those baby showers? Everyone is so warm and happy, celebrating new life and how their bodies produce something amazing.

“Meanwhile, all I can think about is how if I were to conceive by some fucking miracle, the chances of miscarriage are so high, it’d make more sense to plan some kind of memorial for a child I’ll never meet instead of a cute little fucking baby shower.

“And it’s the one thing you asked of me! What kind of a woman am I that I can’t give you the one thing you wanted?! A broken one. With a broken womb. So yeah, be upset with me. Hate me, Sy. But I promise you’re never gonna catch up. I’ve got years’ worth of a head start hating myself.”

Eyes bleary and completely heartbroken now that he knew your secret, your head dropped and you held it in pain from the headache that exploded from the tension.

You didn’t wait even thirty seconds before he nudged your head back up again with his knuckle. Your chest ached so badly from barely containing the sobbing. The moment you saw his arms were already open waiting for you to fall into, you gasped and let the tears come.

You leaned in an inch and he scooped you up the rest of the way. Helping you settle into his lap, thighs spread over his, he cradled you tenderly to his bare chest, wrapping you up in his entire upper body. Burying your face into his neck, you mewled his name softly when his lips pressed behind your ear.

“Sy, I—“

“Shh shh shh…” his baritone was so deep, you could feel and hear it as he dropped his head low to speak close like it was your own secret space to be alone together. “I’m sorry, sweetness. I know, babygirl, I know. Shh shh…”

Rubbing circles over your back, he gave you time to release through deep sobs some of that suffering you’d been dragging with you.

“I’m disappointed, shh—disappointed we can’t have our own, ‘course. But I think I’m more disappointed that you been upset this whole time over somethin’ we coulda sorted out together. Years ago. Babydoll, it breaks my heart to think of you bein’ this sad. Makes it a hundred times worse if you were upset ‘bout lettin’ me down. And you usin’ that ‘hate’ word in the same breath to describe the love of my life… Geez babygirl, that tears my heart right out my chest.”

Tears streaked down your cheeks. You pressed your palms against his hard as rock chest while he encircled you in his long reach. Tears rimmed his blue eyes as you wordlessly attempted to work out if he planned to let go or hold onto you. Eventually, you collapsed into him, exhausted.

“Look at me, Sweetheart. It’s important. What? Louder. Deep breath and one more time? Oh. No, I know it’s gonna make you cry more but imma make it better, I promise. Lemme see my girl. There she is.”

You sniffled and rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand. Your lips and eyes felt swollen from crying, and your hair was a mess, but he smiled in his soft blue eyes and stroked it back.

“Kids, no kids, doesn’t matter. I wanted you. Ask Parker or any other CO I work with. That very first night I saw you I said, “Imma marry that girl,” and here we are. But since we are married, I wanna know the things goin’ on inside ya. Not just ‘how ya feelin’, are ya hungry, are ya horny’ type stuff.”

You scoffed, kissing his cheek softly. He squeezed your hips tightly, lifting you closer, up higher on his pelvis, angling slightly back onto the pillows. He didn’t want you to get the wrong idea, but your heat, wiggling in his lap, and that you were starting to let go of some things inexplicably made the blood rush to his groin. You’d feel it in a second if he didn’t adjust your seating situation and lie back with you a bit.

“You’re not ‘broken’, sweets. And I don’t ever want to hear ya talkin’ ‘bout my girl like ‘at. You’re all woman, an’ the only one for me. You locked that right down in that pretty blue dress down on the pier years ago. Was it yellow? Nah. Really? With the little red… Huh. Color blind or not, this heart ain’t even mine no more so best be lookin’ after it. Yeah, you can cry now. Come here, babygirl. Daddy’s got you.”

When most of the tears were shed, he thumbed the dimples right above your panty line, just under the back of his lifted shirt you wore. Soothed very nearly to sleep, your fingers wound their way through his hair. He sighed letting his head fall back into your hands; he always loved when you scritched him like a puppy. Wrapping both hands behind your thighs, he held you in place, pressed to him and straightened up his neck when he really enjoyed what you were doing to him.

“Right there?” you cooed softly, raking your nails through his hair, down to the nape of his neck.

“Mmph,” he grunted affirmatively, tipping his chin down. He found one button on the shirt you wore straining against the fabric, exposing your bare skin right in front of his face. So he nuzzled into it. The unexpected tickle of his beard when he kissed inside made you gasp and arch back.

“Hey!” you squeaked and a mischievous smirk flashed across his face. He looped a finger inside his red flannel, releasing the fabric right below your belly button.

His eyes flashed up at you again as he pressed his mouth to your belly, swirling his thumbs in circles over your hips when he slid them inside the oversized flannel draped loosely on your body.

You closed your eyes, curling your fingers in his hair, and listened to the sound of the deliberate, wet kisses he placed from one hip to the other.

Hugging just under the curve of your behind, he ran his scratchy beard against your sensitive skin, but you still cradled the back of his head to you just the same. Finally kissing down to the apex of your sex, using his tongue to moisten the spot first, he placed a slow, suckling kiss that made your clit pulse and hips jerk involuntary.

“Sorry,” you mewled, pawing his hair. His jaw tensed and head lifted just slightly when your body responded so abruptly.

He nuzzled your skin and arched a brow up at you. “Don't be sorry, babygirl. Are you gonna let Daddy make ya feel good?”

A darkness fell across your features hearing that particular pet name for him. You tugged the shirt together.

“I don’t think I can do this, Sy. It’d be the first time not trying for... I can’t think about the… the emptiness. Feels like I’m giving something away too soon.”

“Hmm,” he hummed thoughtfully, collecting your hand from his shoulder. “Tell me what you need and I’ll get it for you.”

“Time… I guess. And you. Fuck, Sy. I must sound crazy. The way I’m talking, it’s like somebody died.

Here I am going on when you’ve actually witnessed people die.

I don’t want to diminish what you’ve been through with my nonsense.

Of course we need to do this.

We need to do this.

I want this.

I need you.

I need us.

I need this.

Fuck me, Captain.

Fuck me senseless.”

You made quick work shrugging out of his shirt and wrapped both arms around his thick neck. Fisting the mattress, he shouldered your ribs so quickly, it knocked you right off balance and onto his arm. Gripping under one of your thighs, he used that massive upper body strength of his to lie you back gently onto the mattress, holding your whole body up with just one arm.

As he eased you down onto your back, you went quiet and he leaned on his elbow to look down over you.

You stared up at the red blinking light on the smoke detector a long time while he pressed his large forearm down against your chest, between your breasts, and spread his palm over your sternum, attempting to give you an anchor point. Your arms laid limp, one above your head, one at your side, almost like you were having a nightmare except wide awake.

He’d seen that vacant look in the eyes of fresh infantry grunts after their first real battle and brush with death. But he never thought he expected to see it stateside, in the eyes of his wife.

Doing what felt natural to do, after all he was trained for it, he dropped his voice and redirected your attention.

“Eyes on me, darlin’. I know you’re feelin’ pretty rough inside. Grief is grief however it comes. Yeah, it’ll take time. But that’s why you’ve got your Unit to fall back on. Unit of two, you an’ me. Makes us a pretty elite team. I’ll do some of the heavy lifting for ya now that I know what we’re working with. I need ya to stay with me though, yeah?”

“Unit of two. I like it. Will you ever… Oh Sy, will you ever touch me like that again?”

He frowned, wrinkles lining his forehead. “Sweets, hell nor high water gonna keep me from lovin’ on you.”

*

Three months later, you returned home from a walk with the new puppy to find Sy standing in the front lawn, one hand on his hip and the other waving at the delivery truck to keep backing up.

“More wood?” you called from across the street over the roar of the diesel truck lift dropping green treated lumber along the side of the house. While your husband signed off on the delivery, you crossed to meet him in the grass with the puppy under your arm.

Looping a sweaty arm around you, he pulled you in by the hip and kissed the crown of your head.

“Thank ya, sir. See ya’ next Saturday,” Sy smiled behind his reflective sunglasses, shaking the driver’s hand.

“Next Saturday?” you repeated, glancing over your shoulder at the new pile of lumber that had been dwindling as he completed projects. Or at least it was. “I thought the treehouse was done, my love.”

“Oh, it is. Come have a look see.” He dwarfed your hand in his, taking you to the sprawling backyard. His truck was parked at an angle on the lawn with his tools laid out in the back and sketches drawn all over sheets on the hood.

Leaning in with his hip, he showed you his drawings, motioning with his hands as to where they should be or already were in the yard.

“Swing set? Done. Slides over there? Done. High and low bars - also done. Rope bridge, climbing apparatus, bouncer thing, treehouse, done.”

Tilting your face, you bumped your head against his chest appreciatively and he smirked. “I want to build out chairs that flip down on the deck. Not sure on the height is all. I don’t suppose you have any input?”

“All the social worker has said is to plan on three siblings from upstate. Two boys and a girl, between the ages of 5 and 10. Sorry I don’t have any help as far as height goes. I think we are more than ready for the little ones next week, Sy. Why don’t you come inside and cool down with me?”

Scratching the back of his neck, he glanced over his shoulder at the freshly installed fence blocking the neighbors’ view. “Better idea, babygirl. How ‘bout we give those swings a try first. Should hold both our weight, I reckon.”

Arching a brow, you folded your arms across your chest, pretending to be annoyed. “Oh, you ‘reckon,’ hm?” you repeated, patting his sweaty chest through his tank top. “Bear, we already have a sex swing upstairs.”

“Yeahhhhh...” he drawled, giving you his most sly smirk, “but this one is outdoors.”

“Captain! I can’t believe you!” you gasped, touching your imaginary pearls before pushing off the wall of muscle your husband provided when he folded his arms across his chest, launching yourself into a dead sprint across the grass toward the swing set. “Ladies first!!”

He chuckled, and jogged behind. “’Course, babygirl.”

~

Masterlist

[mrs-gucci]

Dress Drop-Off {Mr. Pennyham (SNL “Sleepover”skit) x college age!Reader}

author’s notes: hello, hello! this is inspired by something that @glassbxttless posted (linked HERE) about mr. pennyham fucking his daughter’s best friend & college roommate (shoutout to @peachyproserpina​ for sending the ask in). it destroyed me. I have not stopped thinking about it. so, here I am, writing a mr. pennyham fic. 

**I take absolutely no credit for coming up with the name “Peter” for Mr. Pennyham. I regretfully do not know which author coined it, but it wasn’t me, so full credit to whoever did. and the name “Aidy” for mr. pennyham’s daughter is (I believe) a creation of @ohiobluetip, so credit to them for that.**

warnings: smut. general filth. mr. pennyham is a dilf. rough blowjobs. face-fucking. friends with benefits-type scenario. some praise. use of a clit vibrator. fingering.

tw’s: !!significant age gap (RC is 21+, Peter is ~50). infidelity/extramarital affair.

word count: 1.6k

my taglist peeps: @frank-and-honey @shygirl268 @icarusinthesea​ ​@gildedstarlight @mrs-zimmerman​ (if you’d like to be added to or removed from my taglist, the link to the google form is HERE or on the top of my masterlist.)

“See ya later!” Aidy says, grabbing her backpack and slinging it over her shoulder. “Oh, my dad might swing by to drop something off in like fifteen minutes or so. Would you mind letting him in?”

You nod, smiling. “Sure, yeah, no problem at all. I’ll be here.”

Mr. Pennyham is coming over, but it isn’t just to drop off Aidy’s dress for the semi-formal this weekend. You and Peter have been seeing each other for a few weeks now. Well, seeing each other naked is the better way to put it.

He and his wife are having some marital issues, you’re pretty sure divorce has been in the conversation repeatedly, and you wanted to be there for him as much as you could. You didn’t think that meant fucking him, but you don’t mind. The two of you have always had somewhat of a special connection, you just thought it was platonic up until that night a few weeks ago when he pinned you down on the couch and fucked you stupid. 

You quickly scramble to change into something a bit more presentable and attractive, grabbing your see-through mesh bra and panty set, slipping them on before pulling one of his button-ups out of the back of your closet.

A knock comes on the door just as you’ve slid the oversize shirt on and buttoned a few of the buttons.

Not wanting to risk anything, aka Aidy coming back and finding you in her dad’s shirt with lingerie on underneath, you peek through the peephole, seeing Mr. Pennyham standing there with a garment bag.

Your eyes instantly meet his when you unlock and open the door. “Mr. P...Aidy said you’d be stopping by to drop off her dress.”

His gaze lingers over your form, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He steps through the threshold, a rush of cologne looming in his wake, overwhelming your senses in the best possible way.

The dress is hung on her bedroom doorknob before he sits down on the small couch in your living room, legs spread a bit. He looks over at you, eyes shimmering with lust and hunger.

“C’mere, kiddo.” He pats his thick, khaki-clad thighs.

You bite your lip as you waltz over, taking a seat just above his knees, teasing him. He huffs, large hands quickly grabbing your ass cheeks, yanking you forward onto his lap.

“You know we don’t have enough time for teasing.” He growls in your ear, planting a single, searing kiss to that spot behind your ear. “Behave, little princess, or I’ll have to punish you the next time we're together like this.”

A shiver is sent down your spine, his beard hairs tickling your skin as his lips move down to assault your neck. He knows he can’t leave any marks in visible places, but he still likes to kiss your neck, regardless.

Your back arches slightly when lips mouths at your clothed breast and hardening nipple, a shaky sigh leaving your lips. Your hands tangle further in his graying hair, tugging the strands, earning you a deep guttural growl from Peter.

His fingers quickly pop the buttons of his shirt, pushing the garment off your shoulders, tossing it aside. He licks his lips at the sight of the sheer bra and your perky nipples popping up from beneath.

“Look at these pretty tits, princess.” He swipes the pads of his thumbs over the hardened buds, smirking when your breath hitches. “So eager.”

You subtly press your hips forward, gently rocking back and forth over his erection. Surprisingly, he doesn’t stop you, instead running his hands over your curves until they land on your thighs. He kneads the skin for a moment before landing a harsh smack on them, which makes you jump.

“On your knees, kiddo.”

His hands make quick work of his belt and the button on his pants, pushing the zipper down at a teasingly casual pace. His hand dips down beneath his plaid boxers and wraps around the base of his thick, veiny cock, giving it a few pumps before pulling it out.

You’re drooling at the sight, dropping down to your knees, sliding up between his spread legs. He smacks the mushroom head against your cheeks before his thumb presses down against your lower lip, encouraging your mouth to open.

He runs his thumb over your tongue, smirking as his other hand continues pumping his shaft. “This tight little mouth is gonna be the death of me, sweet girl.”

You whimper at his words, lips wrapping around his thumb, sucking and licking the digit gently, teasingly. He groans softly and begins to move it back and forth.

“So fucking desperate, aren’t you, princess? So desperate for my cock in your mouth that you start sucking my thumb...” He suddenly pulls it out of your mouth, quickly replacing it with his cock, smearing the precum gathered at his slit over your lips. 

His hand wraps around the back of your head as he scoots forward on the couch, finger pads gently rubbing your scalp. Your mouth opens to accept his length and he eases into your mouth slowly, a soft shaky breath emerging from his lips.

“Mmmmmmmm.”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as your mouth is stuffed full of Peter’s cock. You’re pretty much adapted to his large, thick length, so you barely gag when he forces every inch of himself into your mouth. 

Peter stays there for a moment, then wastes no time guiding your head up and down his stiff rod. He grunts softly with each bob of your head, head falling back against the couch cushions, Adam’s apple bobbing with each harsh swallow he takes. 

“O-Oh fuuuuuck, kiddo.” He groans, hips beginning to move up in time with your strokes. “Such a good little mouth, stretching out so fucking well for me.”

You moan around him, sucking a bit harder. His hips suddenly buck up out-of-rhythm and his hand leaves the back of your head, instead gripping the couch cushions. 

His hips quickly take over, and you still your motions as he creates his own rhythm. You love seeing him take control, lose himself like this. Your eyes are glued to his face, watching it contort in pleasure as his hips rock up into your mouth at an urgent pace.

It’s not long before his thrusts become desperate and sloppy, noises steadily getting louder.

“Mmmmfffuuuuck, I’m close. Gonna shove my c-cum down your tight little t-throat, make you taste it f-for the rest of the day.”

With only a few more thrusts, he’s cumming, strangled groans accompanying each rope of seed shot down your throat. You moan, swallowing each and every drop eagerly. 

You pull off after stroking him through his climax, standing up. Before you can make any kind of movement or say anything, he sits up and cups your ass with his massive hands, kissing your lower abdomen.

“Grab your little clit vibrator for me, princess.” He says against your skin.

Nodding, you rush over to your dresser, pulling out your clit vibrator. You hand it to him and he smirks, tucking himself back into his pants.

“Lay back against me, keep your legs spread.”

You do as he says, laying back against his strong chest, holding your legs open by keeping your hands holding below the backs of your knees. His beard tickles your neck again while he reaches around and presses the vibrator against your clit, holding the power button to activate the small device.

“Oh!” You gasp, back arching.

Peter smirks against your skin, gently beginning to move the toy in circles over the sensitive nub, enjoying the small noises that escaped with almost every one of his motions. 

Your eyes squeeze shut, but suddenly fly open a few moments later when he lines up and pushes two of his thick digits into your soaked entrance. He lazily scissors them inside you while he turns the vibrator up a setting.

“M-Mr. Pennyham!” You moan softly, moving your hips in time with the silicon toy. “Ohhhhh my god...shit.”

His lips place sloppy, open-mouthed kisses all over the skin of your neck while his motions get quicker. His fingers begin stroking your walls with a pleasurable in-and-out pace.

The combination of his thick fingers pumping and the vibrations from the toy brings you up to the edge rather quickly. You’re panting; breathless as you grind yourself up against his ministrations.

“I’m g-gonna cum.” You breathe, eyes squeezing shut. “Gonna cu--ah!”

Your orgasm hits with a sudden intensity when he turns the vibrator up to the highest setting while his fingers curl up inside you, brushing against the special spot on your walls.

You bounce on top of him, grinding on his his fingers as you ride out your climax. He pulls the vibrator away and tosses it aside after feeling you begin to journey into overstimulation territory. 

He holds and squeezes your hips and continues to kiss your neck as you come down from your high.

“I should probably get going, kiddo. Aidy will be back soon and she can’t catch us like this.”

You sigh, nodding as you roll over off him, standing on shaky legs. He gives your ass a playful smack and plants a kiss on your cheek as he buckles his belt and prepares for his leave.

Before he walks out the door, though, he pauses and turns around. “I’ll see you this weekend for the birthday party, right?”

“Yes, sir. I’ll be there.” You nod.

His lips pull up into a small smile and he nods. “See you then, kiddo.”

“See you.”

[wincestisasincest]

The Green Book (Thorin’s Company x Reader, Part 2)

Hey gang! Sorry it took so long to get a Part 2! I wish I had a better excuse but in reality I just watched all of Game of Thrones and cried a lot.

I don’t know if anyone reads these descriptions, also, but if you are, send me asks/suggestions for characteristics of the reader, or objects that they have on them, or even pairings! I love to hear what people think, and will almost definitely incorporate them into this.

Summary: (Y/n) falls into Middle Earth. Shocker. Somehow, she gets recruited to join a party of dwarves on their kinda crazy mission to reclaim their home of Erebor. 

Part: 1, 2

Tags (let me know if you want to be added to the list!): @stuckupstucky, @dianaarelyfernandezgarza97

Words: 1820

Warnings: Plot clichés, vomit

“Do not touch her face.” 

“But uncle, look at her! Who knows what else she could be hiding? We should check to be sure.”

“Do not. Touch. Her face.” 

“What if it gets her to wake up?” 

“Lad, if you touch her face I’ll poke yours a lot harder with the back of my hand.”

“Right, right, sorry.” 

“I believe, at the moment, there is a greater threat that deserves our attention.” 

My eyes fluttered open, only to be met with several new faces, looking just about as shocked as I did. Though I didn’t get an in depth look, they all had thick brows, long hair, and even longer beards. They had also taken to certain sacks, made out of burlap. I couldn’t really make out the scene clearly as it was quite dark, a proper nighttime like I had missed earlier, but there was the aggressive firelight with shadows passing over it that illuminated their expressions. 

I tried to move, only to realize that I was in a very similar situation. A sack was up to my neck, and though I could move freely inside of it, the toughness of the fabric and the smallness of the sack was very limiting. 

“Psst. Hey! Lass!” I turned my eyes up only to meet with a blonde haired man, with braided bears and hair like a lion’s mane. I raised my eyebrows in response to his question. 

“Yes?” I answered meekly. 

“Hey, is that the lass?” Another young, spry voice answered from over the rest of the bodies. 

“Both of you, shut up!” A rather authoritative voice, quite deep, and apparently coming from someone with no sense of humor, rose over the din.

“Ey, stop ya talkin’ or I’ll cook yew first!” I looked up, only to be met with a pallid, monstrous face leering at the group of men. It held a slightly spiked club with its massive fingers as it scrunched its snot filled nose. 

It took nearly all of my willpower not to scream, but I did allow a gasp to escape. I turned to the blonde man, and scooted a little closer.

“What the fuck is that?” I whispered frigthfully. 

“A troll, it would seem.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“What?!” I responded, just confused as this man dispensed tales from fantasy novels like they were fact. 

“What are they gonna do to us?!” I continued my interrogation.

“Well, I think that they’re planning to eat us, but don’t you worry. We won’t let that happen.” He gave me a confident wink like there was a chance of escape, before going back to angrily grunting against his sack. 

I sighed and leaned back, trying to absorb the situation. I couldn’t get a good periphery. If only I had my backpack, or something. 

Some sparse conversation between a smaller, meeker voice and the larger one of the troll was occurring to my left, though I was too dazed to make out most of it. Something about worms. 

The group then began caterwauling, all moaning about how they were riddled with the worst possible worms, and I had caught on to their scheme. If they were riddled with worms, then the trolls, of course, wouldn’t want to eat them. 

“What about her? She seems fine.” My vision went from blurry to dreadfully straight as the great club in front of me came into focus. Shit. 

“I, uh-” I struggled against my frightened breathing to put on a convincing performance. It would not be an exaggeration to say that my life depended on it.

“I have the worst case of all.” I used my tired breathing to my advantage, before employing a trick that I had learned on the playground in elementary school. I crossed both my eyes, before rolling them back into my head, creating the gross, veiny effect that used to make the younger kids throw up. 

I pretended to struggle against my health once more as I tried to spit out more improvisation, not even realizing the great number of eyes watching me. The only thing that I was focused on was the grossed-out fear in the eyes of the troll, who had clearly never seen such grade school witchcraft. 

“We all got it from eating a herd of cows that had worms,” I added, “That’s how it gets passed on.” 

“She’s lyin!” One of the other trolls, because of course there were other trolls, yelled from the back.

“Did you see what ‘er eyes did? You can’t make that up!” I had finally had the will to stand up, like an attorney defending someone in court. 

To my left, there was a very short creature, assuming that he was standing at his full height, of course, with brown skin and blonde, curly hair. He seemed just as scared as I. 

The larger troll hustled closer and whipped out a long, rusty knife that was hitched to his hip, holding it up to my throat. I could feel it biting into my jaw as some blood trickled, but I held my resolve.

“Why don’t I just cut you open to see them worms, girl?” He snarled. I heard a few gasps from behind me, before one tried to scramble its way out of my own throat. 

“I was going to die soon anyway because of my disease, you would be doing me a favor by ending the pain,” The troll eased his knife slightly, and I saw his expression falter as he realized that he hadn’t succeeded in visibly scaring me. 

“That would be all that it’s good for!” The small creature added, his voice rising almost an octave, “The worms are completely clear, you wouldn’t see anything.” 

I nodded, under the pressure of the blade still to my throat. 

“The only way to find out would be, of course, to eat us and die,” I added an edge of harshness to those last words, “Ready to take that chance?”

“The dawn will take you all!” A booming voice shouted from behind me. Though I didn’t turn around swiftly enough, I heard the cracking of rock and saw the rays of the sunrise spilling out over the three trolls on front of me, who were very swiftly turned to no more than stone. 

I jerked my throat away from the blade, which was now completely stone, and struggled to release myself from my burlap prison. My struggle, however, was ended by a sharp force slicing through the back of it and dropping to the floor, exposing my body to the rest of the world. It felt new to have the wind on my skin. I turned around to face my savoir. 

“Well, you’re a new face, aren’t you?” 

The first clear look that I had gotten at a person in a long time and it was, of course, Gandalf the Grey. Given how perceptive he was, I was sure that he caught the glint of recognition in my eyes, though he chose to say nothing. 

I turned to the side, only for my fears to be confirmed. Slowly crawling out of their sacks was a group that I had grown very familiar with, none other than the Company of Thorin Oakenshield, fully equipped with their wizard and hobbit. A flood of memories came back to me as I could recall both the book and the movie (like a moving picture with sound), both common tales from where I came from. I had just helped the legendary company escape from one of their earliest trials, the trolls, without even realizing it. 

The complication in this, of course, was that all my life, I had been taught that such company, and by extension, such a land as Middle Earth, was nothing but a tale. The fact that they were in front of me at this moment, and seemed to be very corporeal, was off putting to say the least. 

My face twisted into confusion.

“Never seen a dwarf before, lass?” A wizened old Balin, I assumed, stroked his long white beard while speaking for the equally confused looks of his company. 

“Uh,” I stuttered, tripping over my words, “uh, well, not in, I, uh, no.” I finally settled on not bothering whether or not I offended them and using plain, simple language. 

“From the looks of it, she’d never seen a troll before either.” The blonde haired one, Fili I remembered him as, said to the crowd as he was gathering up his equipment. 

I could feel my breathing grow heavy, and I swear that I was beginning to sweat. This was some fucked up dream. 

“Are you alright? There’s no need to be afraid, Miss.....” a small voice, that of Bilbo Baggins, who had appeared next to you as silently as hobbits are known to do, gave me a concerned look.

“(Y/n)” I answered bluntly, shunting his question.

“That’s a bit of an odd name. Mind tellin’ us where you’re from?” Balin leaned forward.

“I, uh, I-” All of the confidence that I had while confronting the trolls had completely vanished. I felt my stomach begin to churn, though I was so hungry that it felt out of place. 

“Yes, and where you got such strange garb from as well?” The man himself, Thorin Oakenshield, stepped forward, though I knew before seeing him from his voice. He looked as he always did, stern and focused. 

I stared down at what I thought to be quite normal, some jeans, sneakers, a t-shirt, and a jacket, though only thoughts of how abnormal and alien I must seem right now could come to fruition.

“Let’s not bombard her with questions.” Gandalf intervened as every dwarf and hobbit eye was trained on me. 

Out of the corner of my vision, I saw my red canvas backpack glinting in the sunlight. It had been carelessly thrown to the side.

“I, um, I have to go!” Before turning around to see their expression, I gathered up my stuff and started towards the forest. 

“Go where, exactly?” I could hear Gandalf yell behind me, and stepping forward slightly in my direction.

“I don’t know!” And with that confident dismissal, I darted off into the forest, with my stuff behind me, not bothering to answer some of the screams and pleas. 

When I had convinced myself that I was far enough away where they couldn’t hear me, I grasped the nearest tree and threw up my entire stomach. My vision was getting dizzy again, and I could feel tears in my eyes. The adrenaline had gotten me through the trolls, but now, I was lost, scared, or, at best, completely insane. 

I took out my phone. The background on it was a picture of my family. My sobs only deepened. I curled into a ball and continued to cry, and hours passed before I would stand again. 

**********

Well that was fucking depressing. 

It will get happier, I swear, but I always thought that the concept of getting completely plucked from everything that you know and placed with a bunch of stange, unknown people was quite scary and emotional, so of course, it will be treated as such. 

Be on the lookout for a masterlist at some point!