#this my second time gimme slack

[opioidbandit]

animation attempt 2 🫡

[sinsofsummers]

sensational; part iii

6.1k | joel miller x f!innocent!reader part one | part two

summary: joel continues teaching you everything you need to know about desire. warnings: smut smut smut, 18+, mdni. yearning, teasing, thigh-sitting, grinding, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), fingers in mouth, joel almost loses control, age gap (reader is 25, joel is 56). i think that's everything. suchhhh impaired(drunk) editing. i'm so osrry. note: here it is. about a week later than i had planned. but i turned 21. cut me some slack HAHAHHAHA i hope you enjoy this unintentional third part to sensational! note: special shoutout to @cavillscurls bc she not only requested that joel call reader "babygirl" at least once but also that there be some aftercare so....this one's all for u pretty girl i hope your day is an easy one <3 ty for being my very first friend on here wahhh

Joel was used to the chill in his bones. It had been there since his thirty-sixth birthday, and had hardly begun to slip away until he'd met that quiet girl with a fiery spirit like his daughter. Ellie had made the icy tension thaw, and then he met her, the woman who'd begun to melt his very insides.

Was it her curiosity that was so...endearing? Astute? An inevitable addition to his patrols with her? Or was it the fact that she'd begun to smile when she saw him, if only a tight-lipped grin that emitted a soft glow like a secret shared with whispers?

He wasn't quite sure he even wanted to know what it was that had him hardening at the sight of her. So instead of thinking about it—something he wasn't very good at, anyway—Joel returned to his current position in the present moment.

He was on horseback, his gloved hands tightened on the reins, and she was perched in front of him, her back pressed gingerly to his chest and her thighs warming the insides of his.

Joel's mind wandered to the morality of his intentions, as they usually did when she was this close to him. What's she want with you, old man? That voice loved to pester him all day long, but he shoved it away this time when he pretended to adjust his hands on the reins. The movement made his arms tense around her frame, and other than her head tilting back to nudge his chin, there was no response. He thanked the horse for its strong, rocking movements that kept her body tense and pressed into his.

This girl is gonna be the death of me, he mused. And what a painless death it would be.

—

Despite the fact that you were entirely okay with this turn of events, you couldn't ignore the instinctual worry that bit at your insides. When you'd shown up at the stables that morning, Joel had already arrived, leading his horse by the reins.

"C'mon, doll," he said in that rough morning voice that was so attractive. "You're ridin' with me today."

Your brows had furrowed, and you looked toward the stables. "What about—"

Joel had shaken his head and held out a gloved hand for you. "Your horse is no good today," he said (with a less-than-convincing note of sorrow in his voice, but why would he show emotion for once in his life?), clearing his throat before finishing, "just you, me, and this one today," with a nod to his horse.

"Is he gonna be okay?" you asked as you took his hand, the heavy weight of his grip returning to you as a comfort now. "What's wrong with him?" He led you forward, but you couldn't help glancing back once more as if you were a kid getting dragged away by her parents from a candy store.

He squeezed your hand and smiled softly at you. "Gimme your hands, sweet girl," he murmured.

You obeyed without a second thought and let him help you up, the winter wind whipped around your hair despite it being trapped in your usual knit hat. His hands tightened around your hips as he booted you up, and you mourned the moment they left your body. Of course, that sensation didn't last long; he clambered up and mounted right behind you.

Oh. You hadn't considered that this would be the solution to your horse being incapable of patrolling today. Maybe this won't be so bad, you thought, feeling your cheeks heat up despite the chill. You let out a shaky breath at the press of his chest against your back.

"My horse?" you asked once more, despite not quite caring anymore; his arms were now enveloping you as he began making his way to the edges of Jackson.

His sigh created a brief cloud of mist in the wintry air, and the vibrations of his voice rumbled through your body. "Broken leg," he explained quietly, and you felt more than heard his words.

You wanted nothing more than to let yourself sink into the feeling of being so close to him like this, with your hips nestled right in front of his pelvis (a fact that was bound to distract you soon enough), but you forced yourself to inquire a final time.

"A broken leg?" you said. You didn't mean for it to come off as disbelieving, but...your mount had been just fine the day before.

Joel shrugged and instead of answering, he leaned in closer to your ear, his chapped lips scratching against the soft skin near your neck; your eyes fluttered closed at the feeling. "Darlin'," he murmured, "don't you trust me?" One of his hands dropped the reins and curled around your middle, tugging you by the waist back into him. "I've got so much to teach you today."

The reminder that there was still more, that there was always more for Joel to teach you in the world of desire and sin...it was enough to have your mind going blank and your muscles relaxing at his touch. "Okay," you mumbled, not sure if he could even hear your answer.

His gloved hand moved up just a few inches before moving back to grab the reins, but you didn't miss the feeling (if only for a second) of his fingers brushing against the soft curve of your breasts.

You sighed gently and leaned back enough for your head to rest against his chest, your body full encased by his broad shoulders and burly arms. It was secure, it was safe, and the heady scent of leather and Joel nearly made your head spin. With all the possibilities of what he might want to teach you today, on patrol and so close to one another...you weren't sure you'd survive.

It was only a matter of time before your hands and mind completely lost their withering hold on social decorum.

—

Joel's composure was the first to slip, but you weren't far behind—of course, you'd never admit it to him. You'd made it about an hour outside of Jackson, your body rocking deliciously against his, and nothing but the wind to accompany your soft voices as you spoke.

"Those girls haven't bothered me anymore, you know," you said, turning your head to look over your shoulder at him. You nearly choked at the sight of him already looking down at you, his mustache twitching with his lips in a curious smirk. "Not sure what made them stop, though."

"S'good," he said, his jaw clicking before he continued. "But you're like an open book, doll," he said, eyes flitting back to his surroundings. "I'm sure they could see it on your face."

You huffed, cheeks warming again. "See what exactly?"

Joel reached down with a hand to run his fingers along your thigh, creeping closer to where a puddle of desire was growing between your legs. You leaned your head against his chest again and let out a wanton sigh, wishing his hands would creep closer to where you needed him most.

"That," he said, voice lilting with a satisfied arrogance. "It's that sweet face you make when you're wantin' somethin' from me."

"I don't have a face," you mumbled, your arms looping around his biceps and hanging on to them. It's terribly domestic, a voice murmured in your head, but you shoved it away. "What are you talking about?"

Joel leaned his head down to yours, his mouth in your hair. You felt him smile against your skin and he cooed, "Don't worry your pretty little head about that, babygirl." He moved his hand to your thigh once more and chuckled into your hair when you rolled your hips back into his. "Just let me make you feel good, sweetheart."

You wanted nothing more than to sink into his soft touches and whine his name until he brought you to the edges of ecstasy again, but the winter wind howled in your ears and reminded you that you couldn't afford to lose all composure. There was a very real reason you were on patrol; it would have been irresponsible to indulge in the sweet pleasure of Joel's touch.

And yet—you couldn't help it when you lifted your chin and pressed a swift kiss to his jaw, hoping beyond hope that it might prompt him to touch you, to kiss you, to do anything to relieve the familiar ache that was growing. It was all you could do not to begin begging right then and there.

So when he suggested that the two of you take a pit stop at one of the old abandoned cabins along your route, you nodded feverishly. It's not irresponsible if we're taking proper precautions, you convinced yourself.

"C'mon, dollface," he murmured, pulling the reins to a halt in front of a dilapidated shack in the wintry landscape. "Can't hardly focus with you rubbin' up against me like that."

The breathless chuckle that you let out sounded nothing like yourself; you were giddy with the impending pleasure that was about to come from Joel's lips, his fingers, anything that he might deem useful in bringing you another crumbling orgasm.

You practically fell off the horse into his arms with your tingling excitement, and Joel chuckled as your chest collided with his. “So eager, darlin’,” he mused, adjusting your knit hat where it had fallen below your eyes. “Makin’ me feel so special with that sweet face,” he said, his large hand snaking around your back to support you as the two of you traipsed through the snow to the cabin. 

It was only a little alarming that his hands on your body were so familiar after just a few of his “lessons,” but you chose to ignore it and sink into the weight of his warm hands perforating your coat. “Joel,” you breathed, and you didn’t mean for it to sound so desperate, but you couldn’t help it. 

Joel pushed open the door to the cabin—it took a few tries; it was frozen shut—and tied up his mount. “C’mere,” he whispered as soon as the door was shut behind you. His lips were on yours before you could suck in a breath of anticipation, and oh, how you loved the scrape of his chapped lips against your skin when he moved to press kisses to the line of your jaw. 

“Been thinkin’ of you, dollface,” he mumbled when he pulled back, his breath fanning over your face. “Been thinkin’ of you a lot.”

You blinked up at him, your lips already wet and wanting for more of his attention. With that dark look in his eyes, he looked as if he might devour you without a moment’s notice. Despite your ever-present reticence toward the things that Joel had taught you so far, you couldn’t ignore the way that your mouth had dried, mind empty of all words.

“Yeah?” you managed, swallowing roughly. In pure humiliation, you leaned forward to hide your face in his chest, inhaling that comforting scent of leather—it both cleared and muddled your head. 

He let out a rumbling chuckle, a looser laugh than you’d ever heard from him, and he placed his gloved hands on the sides of your face to tilt your head back up to him. “Yeah,” he said gently, dropping a kiss to your forehead. “Probably a little too much, considering I can hardly get through the night without gettin’ a hard-on.”

Your cheeks warmed as you blushed, and you instinctively tried to duck your head once more. Of course, Joel wouldn’t let you; he quickly rid his hands of his gloves and returned them to your cheeks, the chill of his fingertips contrasting with the heat of your cheeks. “You gonna kiss me again?” you asked, your voice small in its pleading. “Please?” you added, the syllable even quieter than the last.

“Fuck’s sake,” Joel murmured, and you weren’t sure if it was to you or to himself. He pulled you closer, and you could feel the hard outline of his cock against your hip. “Gonna kill me, dollface,” he groaned before he captured your lips in another bruising kiss, one that had your legs buckling. He kept you upright, with his hands wrapped tightly around your back.

His tongue swept across your bottom lip and you opened your mouth into his kiss, hardly able to believe how natural it felt to kiss him now. A strangled moan left your mouth and he swallowed it into his own, drinking it like a sweet nectar from the gods. His hands came up to feverishly rid you of your winter coat and you eagerly assisted him, clawing at his layers right after. 

“Teach me,” you begged, pulling away to catch your breath. Your eyes didn’t even open; you were too blissed out to care what you looked like or what he looked like in front of you. “Teach me,” the words came out again, and your bottom lip quivered as if you might shed tears. Your thighs clenched together subconsciously, doing virtually nothing to assist in the pressure that was growing. 

Joel hummed and his thumb carefully swept a caressing touch under your eyes, as if catching any tears that might actually fall. “No need to beg anymore, babygirl,” he cooed, “I’ll teach you everything you want to know.” He tugged your hat from your head and smoothed over your undoubtedly knotted mess of locks. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he flashed a smirk at you. 

“Promise?” you said, again in that small voice that had you almost kicking yourself. You were supposed to be an adult, mature enough to handle all of this. And you are, the voice in your head spoke harshly, you are.

Joel just nodded and tilted his head back, gesturing for you to follow him further into the cabin. “Stand there for me, doll,” he said, leading you into what must have been the living room some twenty years ago. A couch that looked like it might collapse in on itself sat against the wall, the only piece of furniture in the room. 

You stood where he placed you, but his hands dropped from your body when he went to sit down on the couch. With one arm moving to lay across the back of the couch and his jean-clad legs spreading in the way that made you want to kneel in between them, Joel beckoned for you with his other hand. “Now c’mere,” he ushered, and you couldn’t move fast enough. 

Your hands reached out to grab for him, to take off his coat and his shirt and let him lay bare before you like he had in your bed, but he shook his head. “Don’t worry ‘bout me, sweetheart,” he reassured you, “remember?”

You knew this; both times before this Joel had made it clear that you needn’t worry about getting him off. You were supposed to sit back and let him show you how to feel good, but you weren’t sure how much longer you’d be able to obey his request. You wanted nothing more than to sit on his lap like he’d had you the first time, and you wanted to rub yourself against his cock so you could see how he looked when he was lost in the throes of his desire. 

“Babydoll,” he nudged you gently with his voice, and you blinked. “Hear me?”

Swallowing hoarsely, you shook your head. “Mm?” you hummed in response.

Joel’s lips curled up in a soft smirk. “Already distracted,” he mused to himself. A hand dropped to his thigh, and your eyes latched onto it. You had the sudden urge to take those fingers into your mouth, to feel the strength of his fingertips on your tongue—the fact that those same digits had been shining with your release (more than once) had your legs wobbling once more. 

“You’re gonna stand there,” he said, adjusting himself on the couch in a way that had your eyes glued to the growing tent in his jeans, “and I’m gonna watch while you make yourself come.”

You blanched, and the spot between your legs pulsed at the idea. “What?” You couldn’t help the slight disappointment at the realization that this meant he wouldn’t be touching you.

“You heard me.”

“But…” your hands flexed, needing to hold onto something. Your desperation for release was almost enough to have you sinking to the floor. “But…I don’t know how—”

Joel nodded, “You do. I’ve shown you, remember?” His fingers tapped a few times on his thigh, and his eyes slipped to drag along your body as you stood just a few feet from him. “And you know I can’t always be there when you need to come, babydoll,” he hummed. “I need you to show me you’ve learned.”

“But—”

“Show me,” he said, his voice firm despite the gentleness in his face. He palmed his cock through his pants and bucked his hips up. “C’mon, baby. Be good for me, I’ll make it worth it.”

Despite his instructions, you shuffled forward, arms out and reaching for him. You paused in between his legs, feeling the heat from his legs radiating toward you. 

But Joel only shook his head with an amused smirk. “No, no, doll,” he murmured. “I’ll come just as quick even if I’m just watchin’ you. I need you to show me what you’ve learned,” he repeated his previous instruction. “Touch yourself, sweet girl. Lemme see how you make yourself feel good.”

You didn’t move, unsure of how to begin—as it was now clear that he wouldn’t let you touch him, nor would he be giving into your requests. Standing there in your sweater and jeans and winter boots, you felt foolish. 

“I know you know how to start, baby,” he encouraged you while moving his hand along his hard cock in his jeans. “Take those clothes off, pretty girl.”

With an instruction to follow, your hands began to move, ridding yourself of your sweater and pants, even your thick boots. Standing in just your worn bra, your cotton panties, and your thick wool socks, you looked shyly toward Joel. It felt somewhat humiliating to have his eyes so intently held on you, despite his face being the picture of approval. 

He moved his hand once more and then he was unzipping his jeans and reaching into his pants, letting his cock spring free. He let out a shuddering sigh at the sensation; you were sure there was a thick feeling of relief that washed over him at the removal of any tight restriction on his erection. “C’mon, baby,” he cooed, and your eyes widened as he licked a wide stripe on his palm, returning his hand to his cock to give it a languid stroke. “I know you can do it.”

You gingerly dropped a hand to your waist, fiddling with the worn out elastic band of your panties. In front of you Joel let out a soft sigh, his eyebrows furrowing and his dark eyes growing even darker at the sight of your hand getting closer to your mound, where there was certainly a puddle growing. 

“Lemme feel it, baby,” he said gruffly, beckoning for you to step closer. “I know I said I wouldn’t touch, but holy fuck, dollface…I’ve never needed to feel something so bad in my life.”

You practically fell over your own two feet as you obeyed his request, stepping into the space between his legs. His cock was right there, and you wanted to put your tongue on the tip, to feel that bead of leaking seed that was sliding down the angry red head of his cock. “Joel—”

His only answer was with his two fingers pressing a featherlight touch to your bud, drawing a quick moan from your lips, your eyes closing and your hips rolling into the feeling.

“So fuckin’ wet, baby, I knew it,” Joel murmured, sitting forward and pressing a kiss to your stomach. “You’re always so wet for me, huh?”

You wanted to roll your eyes. Of course you were; he knew this well enough now. But something about the fact that he kept asking…it only made you want him more. 

“Joel, please,” you begged, rolling your hips into his hand again and moaning desperately at the press of his hand against your bud. “I need you to—”

He pulled his hand away and sat back again. “Not yet, dollface,” he reminded you, returning his hand to his cock. “You haven’t even touched yourself, darlin’,” he teased, his tone a mocking coo. 

You let out another strangled whine, but shoved your hand into the waistband of your panties. “Fine,” you sighed, “but it won’t work.” As much as you wanted to come, you were reminded all too well of the last time he asked you to do this. You couldn’t obey his request, and he’d had to make you come all the same. So why would he make you go through the motions again?

Your finger caught on your clit and you inhaled sharply, eyes closing at the addictive sensation. You let your other hand slide up to your chest, instinctively massaging your own breast in the same way that Joel did—at least, as close of a replication as you could make. 

“That’s it, sweet thing,” he said in that southern drawl that had you perpetually weak in the knees. “Lookin’ so good like that, sweetheart, good girl,” he drew out the last two syllables, his teeth audibly gritting as he stroked his cock faster. 

You wanted to continue, wanted to hold onto the feeling of making him proud, but you didn’t know what to do. “Joel,” you begged, “I…” you trailed off.

Both of his hands came to your waist and you opened your eyes at one squeeze of your hips. “C’mere,” he groaned. “Just sit next to me, doll.” He helped you sit next to him, your head resting on the arm of the couch. Your knees came up to your chest, and he looped his thumbs into your panties, ridding you of them in a quick movement. 

Your head was spinning with the hopes that he might give in, that he might not make this foolish game go on for much longer. It had only been a minute or two, but you never wanted to make yourself come if Joel was always going to be so willing. “Joel—”

“Spread those pretty legs for me, baby,” he whispered, his big hands on your knees. When you couldn’t move your legs on your own, he gently nudged them apart, his eyes darting down to your dripping mound. “Fuck,” he hissed, his hand hovering over your folds, “even more appetising than I remember.”

The implication made your head reel. Surely he wouldn’t… 

But your thoughts were interrupted when he sat back at the other end of the couch, his cock sitting at the ready as he dragged his hand over it again. “I’m good at waiting, though,” he murmured to himself. “C’mon, princess,” he sighed, “just like we practiced. Hand on that pretty pussy, baby.”

The whine that left your throat was downright pornographic as you obeyed, the sound of his instructions shooting bullets of pleasure down your spine and straight to that sensitive bud at the crevice of your thighs. 

Just like we practiced, he’d said. You had no desire to disappoint him; you wanted to prove to him that you could do this, you wanted to see that look of flushed pride on his face when he came again. When you’d make yourself come. 

Your fingers slipped around your dripping cunt, still clumsy and untrained despite knowing just how Joel would make you come undone with his touch. You tried your best to replicate it, gliding your fingers in tight circles around your bud, or drawing long stripes in between your folds, but it just made you more frustrated. “Joel,” you whined again, “please.”

You didn’t have to look at him to know he was grinning. “You’re doing it, baby. Look at you, rubbin’ that pretty clit for all it’s worth.” His words were bruisingly confident, but his tone was shaky and the only evidence that he was dangerously close to coming before you. 

“Joel, I—” you circled your clit once more— “I need you to—”

“I know, baby, I know,” he cooed, and you felt him shift closer to you—just a centimeter. 

You pulled your own hand away from your clit, despite your body begging for more, and you looked for a moment at the shine on your fingers. “Joel,” you repeated, “I…I want you to tell me what to do.” 

He was silent for a moment. Then, “That so?” His movements had stopped. 

You nodded, and couldn’t help the desperation in your voice. “Yes.” Somehow your legs dropped open even wider, exposing yourself to him further. “Tell me what to do. Tell me what you want me to do.” You swallowed the lump in your throat as you gave yourself entirely to him. “I’ll do it.”

Joel had turned his chest to face you, and he ran a hand over his face. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you, ya know?” he said, and you thought it was a minor jab at your eagerness until he dropped his hand back to his lap and you saw that blissed-out smile that you were learning to ache for. “‘Course I’ll tell you what to do. If that’s what you want,” he answered, and you almost came at the sound of his voice. 

He shifted so his body was facing you; the sight of him with his shirt buttoned, his pants still on, but the zipper undone and his cock bobbing heavily as he moved…it was enough to have you rolling your eyes back. Joel Miller was sensational. The essence of sin and seduction, and you only wanted more.

“Lift this leg for me, baby,” he murmured as he lowered his chest to the couch. You let him move your ankle to rest on his shoulder, then the other ankle to match. “That’s it,” he cooed, “you’re such a quick learner, babydoll.”

You blushed at the nickname, and when he sank to his elbows with his eyes on your pussy, your eyes widened. “Joel—”

You’d heard of this type of pleasure, but you’d never thought it was something men actually did. When he looked up at you with that hungry look in his eye, his tongue darting out to wet his lips like one might do before eating an especially good meal, you realized another thing. 

You’d never thought this could be something that men actually enjoyed.

“You want instruction, babygirl?” he hummed, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh and chuckling when you shivered. “I’ll give you instruction. Lay back and let me take care of you. You’re always so good at that, yeah?”

He didn’t give you the chance to answer before he was dipping his head down to your most sacred spot, where you needed him most. His hands wrapped around your thighs, holding them against his ears as if they were keeping him warm in the cold temperatures outside. With one stripe from your weeping entrance to your quivering bud, Joel nearly made you come on the spot.

“Joel, I’m gonna—” 

He pulled back and smiled wickedly. “Already, baby? We’ve only just started,” he drawled, turning his head to kiss the inside of your other thigh. “Hold on to it for me, yeah? Gotta practice holding it for me, okay?”

You were too far gone to even grace his question with a response. All you could manage was a stuttering moan as you threw your head back and bucked your hips into his face, chasing your release.

Joel held your hips down with a light chuckle. “Wait, princess,” he grinned, pressing a kiss to your clit before continuing, “you don’t wanna fail your lesson, do ya?”

The implication that something might happen—or decidedly not happen—if you were to come before he let you only spurred you on. “Joel, please—”

“Just a little longer, please, baby,” he said, his voice a gentle moan. His tongue grazed your clit once more and he closed his lips over your bud, suckling just lightly enough to bring you closer and closer to the edge. 

It was then that you opened your eyes and looked at him; you wanted to see what he looked like with his mouth on your most sensitive spot if you were going to come. Your eyes caught on his hips, laid out on the couch further away from you. You blinked.

Joel was rutting into the couch. His hips were seemingly moving of their own accord, a smooth movement that was covered in sin and desperation. You thought about the fact that the curve of his hips would probably look like that if he were pressing his cock into you, and that was it. 

Your voice broke over the sound of your whines, and paired with his fingers coming up to press into your entrance, you were done for. You came hard over his fingers, your moans so loud that you thought someone would hear you all the way back in Jackson. “JoelJoelJoelJoel,” you cried, feeling the familiar rise of emotions in your throat. 

Joel pulled his head from your pussy and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Just couldn’t help yourself, huh?” he smirked. 

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, although you weren’t sure you had the capacity to even be sorry just now; the sight of him getting off at the taste of you was enough to keep your mind busy for the next week. “I didn’t mean to—”

“S’okay, dollface,” he chuckled, “I forgive you. That pussy tastes too sweet to be mad about you comin’ all over my damn face.”

Your thighs lay open for another moment, and Joel absentmindedly put his hand over your clit to rub another gentle circle to your sensitive bud. He hummed when your hips bucked at the overstimulation before pulling his hand away. 

Your eyes dropped to his cock, sitting rock hard and definitely not spent. You reached out with your hand again, sitting up. The effects of your orgasm were still heavy on your mind, but in a wordless movement you sank to your knees before him. “You didn’t come,” you said, more of a question than a statement. 

He shook his head. “Don’t matter,” he said, patting a hand on your head. “That was just for you, doll.”

You frowned. “But—” you dipped your head down, aiming your mouth at his tip despite not knowing what to do beyond that. All you knew was that this was something he needed. The tip of his cock was leaking profusely now, and you wanted nothing more than to make him feel as good as he’d made you feel. 

“We haven’t practiced that one yet, pretty girl,” he said softly, and lifted your head from where it was aiming. “Trust me, doll, I want it just as bad as you want to give it to me.” He traced his thumb along the line of your nose, a habit that he’d been starting to pick up. “But we’ll do it when you’re ready.”

“Then I wanna practice,” you insisted, your knees digging into the cold wooden floor. You didn’t want to think about how you looked, your face showing the remnants of your orgasm and your entrance starting to drip once more at the thought of pleasing him. “Let me practice,” you repeated. 

He smiled ruefully. “Got nothin’ to practice on, sweet thing,” he said softly. “We’ll practice another day.”

You took his hand wordlessly, not sure where this bout of confidence was coming from. It was like you were drunk on the thought of making him come. He let you hold his hand in yours, and with one look up at him, holding his eyes in your gaze, you opened your mouth to slide three of his fingers onto your tongue. He tasted like salt and the sweet release of your own body. 

Joel jerked in your grip, his cock bobbing toward you and his hand nearly shoving itself all the way down your throat. “Holy fuck, doll,” he groaned, his eyes fluttering closed. “S’enough to make a man leave his wife.”

You chuckled, knowing he was spewing nonsense from his lips now, but you pressed his fingers further down your throat, only stopping when they brushed the back of your throat, causing you to gag. 

“That’s okay, babygirl,” he said with another affectionate pat on your head. “You’re doin’ so good. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Thought I was doing well,” you said sheepishly when he pulled his fingers from your mouth. A string of spit connected his fingers to your lips.

He nodded and leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “You are, dollface,” he said. “You are. Maybe it’s me who needs a second to regroup.”

You knew it wasn’t true; his angry red tip was more than enough of a conflicting response to his words. But you let him pick you up from the floor and cradle you in his arms over his lap, rubbing his hands in circles over your body. “You’ll let me make you feel good, though?” you asked softly. 

Joel smiled. “‘Course,” he reassured you with a kiss on the cheek. “Next time,” he promised. 

It was enough. You nodded and rested your head in the crook of his neck, feeling the gentle curtain of sleep cover you. “M’tired,” you whispered, every inhibition gone. This man had seen and touched every part of you; there was no point in being shy.

“I know, baby, I know,” he said, and when his face wasn’t in between your legs, it was an awfully domestic phrase. “Just lemme hold your for a second. Then we’ll go back home.”

—

You didn’t know how you’d managed to get back on the horse, your clit sensitive and your whines hoarse with the constant friction as you rode back to Jackson. Your head had leaned back against Joel’s chest and he rested his chin against the top of your head, a constant warm presence as you rose from your post-orgasm haze. 

A happy accident, a faraway voice mused in your head. One horse with Joel on patrol? A dream. 

That is, until Tommy came out of the stables as you two approached. 

“Why’d you leave her horse here?” he called out, and you felt Joel tense behind you. “You forget how to ride a damn horse, darlin’?” Tommy said to you with that same southern drawl that his older brother shared in his voice. 

You blushed as Joel helped you down from his mount, and you hid your uncontrollable laughter behind your hand when he shared some tense words with his brother. 

“Fuck off,” Joel finished, but by the look of his wide eyes and red cheeks, you knew it held no malice. He was embarrassed. He’d faked your horse’s injury so he could hold you close. The realization made your head whirl. 

You walked off from the stables when the horse was returned to his stall, and you giggled when you heard Joel hurry to catch up with you. 

He looked around for a moment, as if checking to see if anyone was nearby, and then he delivered a quick swat to your ass, making you nearly trip in the snow. “S’not nice to laugh at an old man,” he said with a straight face, all business. But you could see the uncharacteristic rosiness in his cheeks, betraying his continued humiliation. 

You weren’t sure where the confidence in your voice came from, but you sighed with a, “Yeah,” before nudging him with your elbow. “Can’t help it when it’s your own brother, Joel.”

He shook his head and your arm tingled when he reached out with his gloved hand to clasp onto yours. “What am I gonna do with you, dollface, huh?” he mumbled, and you weren’t quite sure if you were meant to hear it until he looked down at you with a gentle smirk and a raised brow. 

You shrugged, your own cheeks heating up at the implications of what you were about to say. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out. Make another lesson out of it, I suppose.”

Joel just stared at you, a smug expression on his face. He tore his eyes from yours and played the part of nonchalance when he responded smoothly, mirth twinkling in those brown eyes you’d grown so attached to. “Maybe I will.”

this is so sinful i'm so tipsy rn i hope you liked it!!!! tysm for reading i love u all <3

tags (i'm so sorry it wouldn't let me tag everyone!!! i'll do the rest of my tags in the morning!!!): @morning-star-joy @thetriumphantpanda @cupofjoel @tightjeansjavi @dinsdjrn @mingiast @darkroastjoel @huffle-punk @jupiter-soups @elegantduckturtle @evyiione @bitchwitch1981 @disassociation-daydreams @mrsquill @littlemisssluttyknee @papipascalispunk @mumma-moonchild @buckbarnesdollsposts @kamcrazy123 @djarins-wife @lovelyladiess @impossiblebluebirdchaos @salsdemise @daddy-din @chaotic-mystery @laughcryreadsmutrepeat @prose-before-hoes-blog @morgaussy @thepriceofdevotion @chateausophie @livyjh @kittenlittle24 @ever-siince-new-york @julietamidala @3xclusive-y0ni @paanchusblog @okdeedee @scarletsloveletter @paleidiot @cleopatra99 @samuncenxsored @yourfavoriteredheadbitch-blog @brie-annwyl @spxctorsslxt @pattwtf @meijasworldasf @easaud @yuk-for-president @withrice-ontoast @ssssc0m @nini123 @bookishofalder @projectionistwrites @leeeesahhh

[rinhaler]

toji fucking his step daughter because his wife won’t give him any attention and she’s the second best thing :3

-🌹

daddy toji my beloved :3

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, praise (good girl), biting, age gap, stepcest, cheating, daddy kink, creampie, bimbofication, virginity loss, fingering, masturbation.

words: 2k

Toji doesn’t know what to think, what to feel, whenever he sees you floating around the house. You’re confident, that he knows. Short skirts and tiny t-shirts are usually your go to attire, whether you’re at home or going out with your friends, you often dress scantily.

He tried scolding you about it, but you didn’t listen. And his wife, well, maybe if she supported him more he wouldn’t be thinking such oh so inappropriate things about his cute little step daughter.

“Where is she?” you ask, rudely, snapping Toji from his thoughts as you lean across the breakfast bar. He has to force himself to not look down your top, your cleavage on full display. Though his eyes do slip downward when he realises you aren’t even looking at him, too engrossed with your phone. “Said she’d give me money t’get my nails done.” you tell him, and he now knows you’re referring to your mother.

“She’s back to school shopping with Megumi.” he tells you, breaking his stare from your low cut crop top and looking into your eyes. Have you always been so skanky?

You’re a grown woman. He can’t believe you’re still leaching off of your mother. Nails can’t be that expensive. You should get a job and pay for them yourself. What makes you so special that you just get whatever you want just because you asked?

“Oh, well, you’ll have to gimme it.” you smile at him briefly before texting your friends again. You don’t even notice when he scoffs, shaking his head in disappointment.

What’s annoying him more is the fact that you’re reminding him so much of your fucking mother. Before she grew up, before they grew old, she was exactly like you. Vapid and gorgeous. She had him wrapped around her little finger back in the day, and he’s sure you are the same with every boy you come into contact with.

He feels his cock strain against his slacks as he thinks about all of hot and wild sex they used to have back then. Honestly, these days, he doesn’t remember the last time he got his dick wet. Now he’s just a miserable, pent up dad in a regular marriage. That’s life though, right? That’s just what happens as you get older.

Your wife loses interest and you develop a porn addiction.

“I’m not pay—”

You silence him as you pull your old school pink flip phone to your ear and hold up a finger in front of him, smiling when you hear your friends voice. “Yeah I’ll be there in thirty! Daddy’s givin’ me the money.” you beam at him, your shoulders bouncing as you talk excitedly.

Toji shakes his head again, reaching into his back pocket to grab his wallet.

He’s wrapped around your finger, like mother like fuckin’ daughter.

“I’m not fucking Satoru!” you tell your friend, rolling your eyes. Your step father freezes, for just a moment, before pulling out some money from his wallet. You look down at his hand and see the pitiful amount, taking his wallet from him and stealing a few extra bank notes while you rest your phone between your ear and shoulder. “Ugh. No one believes me! Do you? Whenever I tell anyone ‘m a virgin they think I’m lying.”

“Hang up the phone.” Toji tells you, but you barely hear him. You look at him for a split second before focusing on the call again.

“No, I didn’t! I sucked him off and that’s all I’ve done.” you huff. “Also my step dad is here so, like, stop talking about it.”

“Kid, hang up the fuckin’ phone.” he tells you, louder.

“Wait a sec,” you tell your friend, moving the phone away from your ear. “What?”

“Hang. Up.”

“Oh my God!” you moan, “I’ll meet you there, Toji wants to talk to me— yeah I’m probably getting in trouble because of you! Hahaaaa okay, byeeee~!” you smile, hanging up and giving your full attention to your step-father. He doesn’t speak, and neither do you. Not for a while, not until the silence makes you too uncomfortable to keep it going. “Is this ‘cuz of the money? You didn’t give me enough.”

“I— no, sweetheart.” he shakes his head. “Were you lyin’ to your friend, just now? About being a virgin?”

“Hm? No, why?”

Toji huffs out a breath, his cheeks filling with air as he thinks things through. He’s shocked, to say the least. He always thought you were putting out like a pro. He knows you’ve been on birth control for years. He’s had to drive you to get your injection a few times. He never thought about it much, just a regular dad chore when your mother wasn’t available.

But you’re a woman, now.

He’s surprised you haven’t been fucking since you were a teenager. But he’s even more surprised that you aren’t sexually active, now. He can’t help but wonder why. What’s stopping you? You dress like a slut, after all. Why aren’t you acting like one?

He reaches over and grabs his wallet and the money from your hand. You want to protest, but he walks by you too quickly for you to object. He hurries up the stairs and slams the door after himself.

“A— Am I grounded?!” you yell, hoping for a response.

Nothing.

You follow up the stairs, running up them as best you can in your high heels, and wait outside of his bedroom door. You knock a few times, and get no response. So you begin to pound on the door.

“Toji! You can’t ground me anymore!”

“You’re not grounded, come here.” he instructs. You open the door and walk into the room. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, belt unbuckled and zipper down. He must be changing into something comfier to wear around the house. “Sit.” he tells you, patting his hand on his lap.

You go to him, immediately, sitting sweetly on his thick thighs as he thinks about what to say.

“Didn’t realise you were such a good girl,” he tells you, kissing your shoulder softly. “You’re like a nice version of your mother.”

“Should divorce her if y’don’t like her, daddy.” you tell him, looking down at your imperfect nails. You giggle when you feel him bounce you on his leg.

“Maybe I should.” he tells you. “But I’ll be lonely.”

“You’ll have me ‘n Megumi!” you remind him. “Well, maybe not me as much, but, y’know.”

“Ah, sweetheart, don’t wanna lose you. Not now, not ever.” he kisses your shoulder again. “How come you’re a virgin, huh? Savin’ it?”

“Mhmm… wanna give it to someone special.” you tell him, looking his direction and batting your pretty, false eyelashes. “Everyone thinks ‘m a slut… but ‘m not! Promise! Makes me embarrassed that I haven’t done it yet, sometimes, though.”

His cock aches as he hears you talk. How dumb yet adorable you sound as you discuss your sex life, or lack there of. He isn’t even a little surprised that people don’t believe you, he wouldn’t have believed it himself if you hadn’t told him. He can see in your pathetically wet eyes, though, that you’re being truthful.

He is overwhelmed by the need to bare his soul to you. To tell you what he wants. What he needs and desires from you most right now. There’s no shame within him as he puts his hand down his pants and wraps his hand around his cock, pulling it free. He holds your body in place with his free hand, his arm possessing enough strength to keep you firmly in place.

You’re just like your mother.

If your mother wasn’t a cold, celibate bitch.

“Daddy wants to be your someone special, darlin’.” he informs you, words warbling as he pleasures himself behind your back.

You can hear it. You can hear the tacky sound of his cock being rubbed again and again. The way his breath and speech is slightly uneven. He sinks his teeth into your bare shoulder and you wince. It’s not too hard, but it was unexpected.

He’s surprised you don’t object when he splits your legs apart so that you’re straddling one of his thighs. His hand roams up your thigh and beneath your skirt, towards your clothed cunt. Though when he gets too close, your legs shut, quickly.

“You’re my daddy, you can’t touch me there!” you remind him. But he knows. He knows he’s your daddy and that’s exactly why you should let him. Admittedly, part of you wants him to. You want to feel someone make contact with your untouched core for the very first time.

Someone that isn’t you.

You’re sure Toji is very experienced. He’s so handsome, even now. You’ve seen pictures of him when he was your age over two decades ago. He’s beautiful, like a film star. You know he was fucking like it was going out of fashion.

Your mother has told you what a stallion he is in bed, you’re close like that. There’s no secrets or shame between you. And honestly, it did make you feel a little jealous. You felt like you were missing out on something. Sex, in general, and Toji.

But you never thought you’d be like this, with him.

“Baby, who’s gonna make you feel more special than your daddy, hah?” he asks. You feel your resolve weakening as he kisses your neck deliciously. You want to scream at him, to tell him where you want him to touch you.

He teases your body until your arching and squirming to follow his touch. And you practically cream around his thigh when he lifts up your top and tweaks your nipple. You’re weightless in his hold as he moves you around like you’re his little doll. He licks and laves over your pulse point while playing with your tits. His free hand moves your panties aside with a goal in mind. Two thick fingers slide effortlessly into your tight, virgin slot. The resistance is there but he ignores it. You ignore it.

And within minutes you’re having your first orgasm on account of another person. You aren’t sure why your mother has stopped having sex with Toji, you’d be begging him for it every chance you got if this brief encounter is anything to go by.

“Fuck me, daddy, please? Please—”

“Thought daddy’s can’t touch their little girls there?” he smirks, already helping you turn around to face him. He kisses you, sloppily, as he lines his thick cock up with your tight hole. “Sh, sh, shhh, baby… good girl, c’mon, take daddy’s cock. Jus’ like that.” he talks you through it as you sob. Little cunt stretching to accommodate his monstrous size.

“T-Too big! Daddy’s too big for me!” you tell him, though he silences you with another kiss.

Truth be told, he doesn’t particularly care if it hurts or not anymore. He doesn’t care if you can’t take him, because you will. He does all of the work for you, lifting you up and down like a toy while he thrusts up into you.

He almost cums from the sight of your eyes turning white and your tongue hanging out as he pummels into your sweet spot. He wonders if you’ll keep telling your friends you’re a virgin. It’ll be a fun little secret, for both of you, he thinks.

He finishes with a string of grunts, fucking his seed deep into you again and again until he’s got nothing left to give.

You feel so icky and sweaty as he starts to calm down from his release. He kisses you, sweetly, thanking you repeatedly. He needed this badly. It’s not even just sex anymore. He’s tired of feeling lonely and he’s tired of being neglected.

You’re not your mother though, are you?

You won’t make him feel like that.

“Don’t tell her, sweetheart.” he tells you, brushing your hair from your face and kissing your cheek. He grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger, guiding you to look at him as he speaks. “This stays between you ‘n me, alright?”

“Mhmm!” you nod, leaning forward eagerly to kiss his lips. “Always wanted you to be my special person…” you confess.

“Yeah?” he smiles at that, you really are sweet when you want to be.

“Wanna do it again, daddy. Can we?”

“Of course,” he nods, “I’m addicted to this little pussy, now.”

© 2023 rinhaler

[nayaesworld]

Law and Order

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Thick black woman!OC

Warnings: (18+) Mature content, Cursing,Smut,Fluff

Word count: 3k+

I’m rusty yall bare with me, I hope yall enjoy!

The only time she truly lived was when she was at his service. She kissed the ground he walked on, cooked for him, cleaned for him, praised him, and in the end like the good slut she was, she’d let him dominate her. He’d breathe life back into her emptied lungs just to siphon it all out again.

“Open your mouth.” With his hand wrapped tightly around her slender throat, she obeyed and allowed him to spit into her wanting mouth.

“Mmm sir please use me, I’m begging.” She mewed on her knees, she knew he hated to be rushed, but he loved to see her beg even more. His blue eyes stared down at her as he undressed himself, pulling her up to her feet to place sloppy open mouth kisses along her naked body.

“You pleased me, you did as I asked. Now give me my pussy.” Falling onto their shared bed she opened her shapely thighs and brought them up to her chest, hooking her arms underneath them for support.

Dropping down to his knees he loosened his tie and slid off his jacket. Eyeing her he began to loosen his belt and slid his navy blue slacks off.

“Daddy is so stressed mama, I had a long day in court. I just need to use this body baby.” He crooned as he kissed her soft brown thighs. Moving her hands he hooked his own arms under her thighs, anchoring her and daring her to move.

Starting with open mouth kisses his thick pink tongue slithered from his perfect pink lips and lapped at the sweet liquid that seeped from her hole.

Reaching out to rub his shorts curls she moaned lowly, immediately being taken to another plane.

“Papa you make me feel gooodd ahh.” Throwing her head back she realeased her ginger curls from the satin scrunchie and ran her hands through her hair, needing something, anything to ground her to this place.

“Tell me you love me, tell daddy how much you like this sweet pussy demolished.” He groaned into her pussy ignoring the growing erection and priming his thick fingers to dig out her perfect kitty.

“I love you papa, nobody else matters just you.. oh I lov-.”

Her loud speech of adoration for him was cut off by the addition of his finger, he hooked it into her tight hole at a slow pace, sending her into a daze.

“Daddy faster please, I can’t take this please unh.. make me cum please i'll do anything.” Chuckling at her he sped up his finger slowly adding his second, while simultaneously lapping at the creamy mess she produced.

She wouldn’t last long and she felt it deep in her tummy, gripping his short hair she rocked her hips faster onto his fingers. His growls and low moans pushing her over the edge, she let out a scream and a spurt of liquid released from her.

Rubbing her pussy back and forth at a quicker pace Terry leaned closer with a open mouth. “Mhmh that’s it mama squirt for daddy, show daddy how good this shit feels.” Bria’s thick dark arched brows scrunched together and her breath was caught in her throat, she had to squirt again.

The second stream from her excited Terry more as he dove face first back into her. Hungrily lapping at her he looked up into her eyes, his now hazel ones bright with arousal. Standing to his full height, he pulled down his slacks and stepped out of them and did away with the rest of his suit.

“Come gimme a kiss baby, come taste yourself.” Leaning up to meet him he tangled his large veined hands into her curls and took her plump bottom lip into his mouth, he let her suck on his tongue, tasting her sweet essence.

Giggling into the kiss she reached down to stroke his fat dick. “Mmm I taste so good, I see why you always rush to tear me up.” The two shared laughs as he smirked agreeing with her.

“Daddy I want this dick, and I want it rough. Can you fuck me tonight?” She mewled into his ears, sucking them into her hot mouth. Grabbing her by the legs he pulled her thick body towards the edge of the bed. Leaning towards her to suck and kiss her fat titties, his hands roamed her body.

“You gonna run from me? Or you gonna let daddy actually pound this puss tonight.” She nodded her head at him, seemingly speechless all of a sudden.

Terry reached between his legs grabbing his heavy dick and began tapping it on her sweet puss, sliding it down and lining it with her wet hole he pushed slightly into her.

“ Fuckkk, this tight as pussy, imma put you through the bed mama I can’t help it… I got so much pent up…”

“I don’t care daddy… I need you, she needs you..” Patting her juicy kitty Bria pulled him closer, sealing her fate.

Bending into a push up position, Terry started pumping into Bria’s sopping pussy getting lost in the vacuum effect her tight little snatch provided. Dipping his head into her neck he hid his face squeezing his eyes together tightly holding off his impending nut.

“Goddamn this sweet ass pussy got me ready to nut..pretty fuckin’ bitch with tight ass pussy… you just don’t know.” He grunted roughly into her ear sliding his hand up to choke her.

Bria was dazed, getting slutted out by her daddy was the best. She’d take him any way he came and vice versa, her pussy began to convulse and her short french tip nails dug into his toned back.

“Please fuck meee… I need you baby, please nut in me..”

Bria had a baddd breeding kink and she knew her daddy did too, no matter how many times she begged to be flooded with his nut he always came so damn hard, lost in the idea of impregnating her and watching her pregnant belly grow.

“You want this nut mama.. hmm? You want my babies inside you!” Terry couldn’t contain himself his hips snapped forward quicker, the bed squeaking underneath them damn near on its last leg.

“Fuckkk baby fuck… I’m finna nut… I’m finna nut inside my pussy!” His brows shot up and she felt the instant pumping of his heavy dick into her pussy.

Bria’s pretty brown eyes crossed and her toes curled as she wrapped her legs tightly around Terry’s back, she wanted every last drop.

“Yesss I want it so bad…give it to me!”

His head near her ear he groaned out and nipped at her slender neck as he flooded her needy cunt with his warm cum, it just wouldn’t stop coming out and he was stuck anyway, stuck in her, stuck on her, and had no plans of ever coming off her… literally and figuratively.

.*.*.*.*.***.**********************************************

Terry and Bria were married and in their fifth year of loving each other. I didn’t take Terry long to decide that Bria was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, mostly because he wasn't a man that passed up the great things in life in hopes of them being there later, he’d seen that far too often in life and wasn’t a fan of repeating others mistakes.

Two years into their relationship he proposed, and ten months after they got married. Both solidified in their respective careers they figured why wait, neither wanted too. Bria was and still is his dream woman, he loved her, a tall thick southern girl with a spicy tongue that didn’t hold back who was both independent and beautiful. He loved how she wasn’t afraid to correct him when he was wrong, and how fiercely she had fought for him at some of his lowest times.

Bria felt the same tenfold. If you’d told her a few years back that she’d be married to her dream man, bought their dream house together, and was doing what she loved for work, she’d probably give you the meanest mug. Men weren’t good for her at one point, relationships didn’t last and she felt lost half the damn time, but sorry ass niggas would be just that. She was content, peaceful hell if anybody tried to come between them her mama would get a call from the county jail and she would be cheesing showing all thirty-two teeth in the mugshot. That was her man, her fine hard working and loving man.

.*.*.*.*.***.**********************************************

Terry was the first to wake up the next morning still driven by an internal alarm clock that woke him every morning at six A.M. sharp, courtesy of the Marines. Swiping his long legs onto the floor he stretched his bulky arms over his head and yawned lowly, turning around to peck Bria on her cheek as he walked toward their bathroom to relieve himself. After peeing he washed his hands and moved on to his face care routine that Bria helped formulate for him. Each product picked perfectly for his skin needs, Terry had combination skin, which was oily and dry. So he’d opt for an oil based cleanser and finish with a foaming wash afterwards.

Turning his naked top towards he observed the scratches along his back and sides, smirking to himself he moved to start the shower. His baby would turn into a cat when he was deep inside her and he loved the pain.

Exiting the shower he used a fluffy white towel to dry his head then wrapped it around his waist to head to your shared bedroom. Bria still layed passed out on her stomach with her hands under her chin, snoring softly into the firm pillows. She didn’t get up until after eight on her off days and definitely wasn’t a stranger to a good nap or two. Dressing himself in a black beater with gray Nike sweats after lotioning himself up, Terry slipped long white socks onto his feet.

Grabbing his phone and laptop he headed to his office down the hallway to get briefed on a new client of his. He was a criminal defense attorney, and everytime he thought he represented the worst out there another came knocking. It amazed him the shit people could get themselves into nowadays and he didn’t put anything past nobody, all these motherfuckers was crazy if it was up to him.

Bria had a less stressful job, and her love for children landed her in a career as a teacher. She had been teaching second graders for two and a half years now and it never got old for her. She loved the look on their little faces when they got something right or how excited they were to see her every day for five days straight. She never got burnt out and she never felt in over her head, this truly was her dream job.

.*.*.*.*.***.**********************************************

By nine-thirty Bria’s slumber had unfortunately come to and end, the Texas sun shining through the sheer curtains of the windows just wouldn’t let her be great, she’d have to go to the store later for blackout ones because Terry had picked up the wrong kind. Looking into the mirror across from their bed she slapped her hand over her mouth and laughed loudly at her appearance. She looked like she’d seen hell and back in the last twelve hours.

Rolling out of bed she rushed to the bathroom to relieve her bladder and shower. Tying her curls into a loose bun onto her head she stepped into the steamy shower sighing in relief. The aches reminded her of last night and she smiled to herself, chile she wasn’t playing with that man tonight, he was indeed a slayer of the cooch and she was spent.

Stepping out the shower she grabbed her shower robe and tended to her skincare after brushing her teeth. She had a new rosewater spray that was supposed to give a dewy look without clogging her pores and that was what she looked for in skincare. She rubbed a scented body oil on her supple skin after putting on her favorite shea butter lotion and stepped into their room to put on her moomoo.

Immediately hearing her man's country ass laugh from down the hall she skipped her ass right into his office, wrapping her arms around his shoulders from the back.

“Good morninggg papa!” She smothered the his cheeks and necks in kisses, acting just like the freshly fucked wifey she was.

Turning in his swivel office chair Terry met her lips with his and pulled her to straddle his lap.

“Good morning wifey, I like this lil mood you in… daddy did that?” Smirking to himself he laughed at her rolling her eyes, those pretty ass brown eyes. She could ask for the world and he would serve it right up to her fine ass, she deserved it all..

“You like asking questions you already know the answer to huh?” She sassed back getting a small pop to her ass.

“I’m kidding but yess it’s all you baby, you can have anything bae… you want a new truck or sum? I am well fucked!” He laughed at his goofy ass wife and kissed her exposed cleavage.

“No baby I’m all good, you all the gift I need.. lil sexy ass. You want breakfast? You know daddy make a mean pot of shrimp and grits..” Her eyes got big as saucers and she ran to the kitchen to wait at the island.

“I’ll be waiting for you and I’ll make the mimosas!” She yelled from the kitchen pulling out a bottle of orange juice and a bottle of champagne.

Laughing to himself he looked over the legal documents in his laptop triple checking he’d read through it all before closing it and heading to the kitchen to cook for his baby.

.*.*.*.*.***.**********************************************

After their savory and filling breakfast the two laid snuggled up on their cloud couch under a thick throw blanket watching reruns of Martin. Placing her hand on his chest she leaned up and looked into his eyes.

“Are things bad again at work… I mean I know they’re always stressful because of what you do but, you know I worry about you, these people are insane and I know these cases are heavy on you.” Air loudly left his nostrils and he rubbed up and down her back, pecking her on her forehead as he sat up.

“Yeah baby it is… you know I tell you what I can but I can’t always go into the intricate details of these cases, I’m stressed like a motherfucker right now but I’ll be aight… this is the reality of lawyering, you never know who the fuck you repping next.” She frowned to herself, she hated when things got like this for him at the firm because in a way seeing him like this made her stressed too.

“No I understand the confidentiality of the cases, it’s just I don’t want you feeling like you can’t tell me about your days, hell I don’t care if it’s about a judge you aren’t fond of… you know I’ll listen to anything you say.”

Wrapping her arms around his neck she threw her legs over his and intertwined herself with him.

“Take time for yourself papa… I know how you have to be in the courtroom and those offices, but here you unwind and leave all that shit at the door. You looked so worn out yesterday I don’t like that shit for you… promise to talk to me more papa.. I love you.”

Linking their pinky fingers together he brought them to his lips to seal the promise.

“I promise mama I will.. I just never wanna put all that heavy shit on you.. you’re my everything and you being just as stressed as me ain’t good for neither of us, you know you a drama queen.”

Smacking her lips she plucked his ear and laughed with him, turning back toward the tv.

“Speaking of jobs.. I can tell you I am not looking forward to this school week… they switched the curriculum again right after my students caught on to the last… they annoy me with that shit. It's hard on the kids and it’s bad on us, but that’s Texas for you.” She nibbled on her bottom lip just imagining the reconstruction of her yearly plan for her class, that was no joke and it often came with a boatload of parental complaints.

“Ugh those parents are gonna be on my ass and it isn’t even my fault! Hell I would love it if it stayed the same too.” Looking towards his wife Terry listened intently, having his own questions and thoughts.

“Why the hell are they changing it so often? The whole point of a curriculum is for the kids to grasp the learning material and pass to the next grade… are they trying to see low test numbers… that’s some odd shit.”

Puffing out a sigh Bria shrugged. “Baby I couldn’t tell you, but we shall see come Monday, I know I’m not tripping too bad over it I know that much hell.”

.*.*.*.*.***.**********************************************

By five PM the couple were dressed and headed out to pick up some takeout from their favorite soul food spot. Bria’s stomach grabbed and Terry laughed from the driver seat of his truck.

“Ouu my stomach is literally touching my back… papa you mind driving a little faster?” Bria whined to Terry reaching over to rub his ear.

Looking forward into the Houston traffic Terry mumbled to himself. “Yeah yeah I’m trying mama..”

They knew they’d get hit by the five o’clock Houston traffic but the food would make the trip worth the while. Neither wanted to cook after spending an hour in the supermarket stocking up on groceries, so they opted for placing a Togo order at their favorite spot instead.

Finally making it home to dig in Terry ripped open the white plastic bag immediately being hit with the steam and aroma of that good ole southern food. He handed Bria hers first since she was starving to death and took his out next. Terry had decided on smothered chicken and gravy with rice and red beans and a slice of cornbread , while Bria opted for smothered cabbage, fried chicken with mac and cheese.

Tucking into their plate lunches Bria had something weighing on her mind, something she’d been excited to bring up to her husband.

A week ago she had taken three pregnancy tests, all showing the infamous double lines indicating what she had been thinking for the last month. Her doctor confirmed it that past Tuesday and today finally felt like the perfect day to tell her husband.

“Papa I have a surprise for you… but I need to run to our room to get it.” Terry looked up into her nervous eyes and dropped his fork, wiping his mouth with a napkin and taking a sip of water he gave her his full attention.

“A surprise for me mama… what you been hiding from me? Matter of fact let me turn my back and close my eyes… and it bet not be that damn cat that been walking all over my truck either, you know you always on some ASPCA shit” He goofily yelled at her retreating form oh so curious as to what she could be hiding now.

Inside their room Bria grabbed the cute white gift box, inside sat the three pregnancy test along with a little baby bib that read “Daddy’s #1 Fan” Bria breathed in and out, she knew Terry would be ecstatic, hell he would scream it for the whole Houston to know, being a dad was his wish and she was happy to make it come true.

Hearing Bria pad back into the living area, she revealed a white gift box to him and sat him down on the couch. Urging him to open it Terry jokingly untied the ribbons slow as a turtle.

A megawatt smile hit his face and instantly he engulfed Bria into a crushing hug, thanking her over and over, this shit was better than anything he’d accomplished in life and the woman sitting to his right went half with him on that.

Perching his hand on her still flat stomach he got on his knees, lifted her shirt, and pecked her belly.

“Thank you so much mama… I can’t even thank you enough for this right now… this me and you for life for real, we really got a baby on the way girl?? We finna be John and Kate plus eight… ain’t no way we gone be a one and done typa family.”

The two shared laughs and shed tears together, because this was something truly special… something they went half on made with all the love they had to give and more.

“You are so welcome baby… anything for you, I’ll have ten of your babies fuck it why not.. I’m not going nowhere anyways… I have sooo many nursery ideas I was hiding on my iPad!”

Terry lifted her onto her feet and grabbed her face to plant a kiss on her lips, his girl, his wife, his child's mother.. he couldn't wait for all the stages, hell he was finna call her job Monday and tell them she wasn’t coming back, he didn’t want her working while pregnant anyways, but he knew she’d work until the doctor said otherwise.

They had nine whole months to prepare and nosy ass friends and family to fend off until they broke the news but, they wouldn’t trade it for the world.

.*.*.*.*.***.**********************************************

A/N: This may or may not be a multi part thing chile I don’t know, this idea was bugging me all day long so I was like why not knock the dust off google docs and type something up… no seriously shout out to Aaron Pierre he got the community up right now and I love everything I read and come across, hell he even got me writing again. I appreciate anybody who comes across this I really hope yall like it 🫶🏾I’m also open to constructive criticism💜!

Taglist: @keyaho @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

[bbkoolkatz]

part 2 prof! Izuku part 1 part 3

synopsis: after a series of ignored apologies, you accepted (kinda) what's happened and decided to finally respond... then months go by and you've gotten over him... you think...

pairing: professor! Izuku Midoriya x student! reader. college AU

cw: angst to fluff! by not so popular demand lol! just pretend that y'all had conversations in between or something, before the party message.

blurb word count: 800+

now gimme your souls! *evil laughs* (there are three outfit photos so u can choose from them)

people were packed in the campus auditorium, sounds of murmuring and the bass of the music slightly overwhelming your ears. your friends spotted you standing alone, becoming one with the wall behind you and scuttled over offering you a drink to sip on while they chatted. they went on about, the course, how difficult finals we're, all the months of stress and boring lectures. you added to their complaints here and there, making light conversation that you didn't really pay attention to, as your eyes drifted around.

you vaguely listened to them raving about how great everyone's looking, how surprised they were that they passed, etc etc. and then, he walked in... tall, slim, neatly tousled green hair that exposed his forehead, dressed in a dark green shirt one size too small, squeezing his forearms at the point where he rolled them up, and black slacks, accessoried with an all might buckled belt, that held it to his waist.

might not have been much to him, but to you... it was fucking runway worthy... and you froze, the sight of him bringing back that fuzzy feeling in the pit of your stomach. the buffet table was suddenly the most interesting thing in the room as you averted your eyes from your, former professor.

"hey there," he greeted, walking up behind you.

you slowly turned around, and was soon face to face with that signature, irresistible smile of his, you tried looking away from his almost perfect lips and your eyes landed on his... big mistake... but oh how they looked like emerald gems being held hostage behind glass frames, sparkling with the flashing lights of the party.

"is something wrong?" he asked tilting his head to the side before looking over himself.

"oh! uh- no!" you awkwardly reassured. god you wanted gouge your eyes out right now... "I was starting to think you weren't gonna show," you teased, offering a small smile.

"yeah," he chuckled, "i actually wasn't sure either, but I thought it'd be nice to see y- everyone, one last time." he continued, rubbing the back of his neck.

"everyone seems so different out of the classroom huh?" was your attempt at small talk. and you mentally slapped yourself across the face.

"I was thinking the same thing!" he beamed, "it's nice to see you- all! having some fun. it's well deserved." he fiddled with his wristwatch, then with the ends of his shirt on his forearms.

"I'm sorry, parties aren't really my thing..." he admitted, breaking into a nervous sweat and you rested a hand on his to stop his fiddling.

"did you save me that dance... professor?" you chuckled, nodding toward the dancefloor where people had started to gather.

"Izuku," he corrected, "i'm not your professor anymore..." and he took your hand in his, leading you to the center of the dancefloor, weaving through te crowd of people. you've never slow danced before, but by God, at the moment all you wanted was too feel his body heat, as you swayed to whatever song the DJ decided to play.

the people around you paired up, hugging each other close as the music started, and you both followed them. you take initiative, stepping forward to rest your right hand on his shoulder and your left a little lower down his arm.

he hesitated for second, hand hovering over the curve of your waist, "i-is this okay?" he asked, ever the gentleman and.

"more than okay." you mumbled, the warmth of his palms resting awkwardly on your waist, quietly pulled you in as you began to sway in each other's arms.

the dance progressed, and the awkwardness that was there earlier, was nowhere to be seen. it felt as if your bodies were moving in perfect sync, your steps following his, as you closed your eyes and rested your head on his chest, he moved his other hand to rest lower down your back keeping you there.

for a long moment you were standing there, his scarred arms holding you close to him like he didn't want to let go. not that you were complaining... but the music had been changed to something else... more upbeat to bring life back to the party.

"thank you." you smiled and you could hear his heart rate pick up.

"was that good enough?" he whispered, rubbing circles on your back with his thumb. and you nodded against his chest. you stood there for a singular moment longer, before–

"well, i better go say hi to everyone else!" he said, reverting to his awkward state, "don't let me stop you from enjoying yourself!" and he was still holding your right hand in his.

"right," you exhaled, as he let go and you were heading off to grab another drink. "see ya around, Izuku."

"yeah," he chuckled, yet again awkwardly scratching the back of his head, "see ya around."

mlist!

[caramilena]

This was a response to my first ever ask from @sonnyjune that I accidentally deleted😩. Prompt was Logan fucking reader senseless in front of a mirror. Hope you like it <3

Warnings: 18+, MDNI

He had your hair gathered in a ponytail in his fist as he drove his hips rapidly in and out of your weeping hole. Sinking all the way in before pulling out until just the tip nestled inside. You were a shaking, writhing mess. He grunted and pulled your head back by your hair, “Look how well you’re taking me.” He nodded at the mirror in front of you.

Your bleary eyes immediately locked on your sweaty spread-eagled form. He was ramming into you from the back, his breathless grunts and growls in your ear made the hair on your nape stand on end. You had come 3 times and still, he showed no intentions to stop just yet. Your thighs ached and you were certainly going to be sore the next day.

“You want one more, don’t you, cookie?” He rasped in your ear. You whined from the soreness on your hips. Your head lolled forward, your mind was fuzzy with the pleasant buzz of your orgasm just seconds ago. He snaked his hand up from your hip, across your torso to the base of your neck. His large palm spread wide and pressed your torso back onto his chest. “Use your words,” he demanded gruffly and swatted your ass with his other hand.

“I can’t-“ you choked on a gasp as he roughly thrust inside.

“Gimme one more, baby,” he kissed your nape. “I know you can…”

You mumbled incoherently and nodded, too blissed out to even comprehend his words. He sneered and ground his hips into yours, “Poor thing can’t even think properly with my cock inside’er.” 

He grasped your face, squishing your cheeks together, and tilted it up towards the mirror again. “You see that? You see how your pussy’s sucking me in? Oh, baby, look at her drool around my cock,” he chuckled darkly and swiped his thumb over your bottom lip.

He pushed his thumb past your slack, swollen lips and pressed on your tongue. Your cheeks were hollowed by instinct to suck on his fat thumb until he pulled it out with a pop. “That’a girl,” his voice was low and gravelly in your ear, like molasses.

He brought his thumb down to rub circles on your clit as he roughly thrust in and out of you. “C’mon dirty girl, come with me.”

His hand dropped from the base of your neck to grip your hip tightly. Your torso leaned forward, but your hands shot out to catch their balance on the floor by the bottom of the mirror as he pounded into you from behind. 

The skin-slapping sounds combined with the circles he was kneading onto your sensitive clit with the rough pads of his finger, made you cry out in ecstasy. Your thighs shook as you were overcome once more. Stars burst and bloomed behind your eyelids. You mouthed his name over and over again, the only thing you remembered.

His thrusts grew sloppy. He groaned and pumped you full of thick ropes of his cum for the second time that night. He turned you to lay on your back by turning your legs 180 degrees, so his cock remained inside. Your walls pulsed with the movement and he hissed in reaction. Finally, once you were on your back, he covered your body with his and wrapped his arms around your waist, completely engulfing you on the carpeted floor of your bedroom. 

He peppered kisses on your neck and face. Affectionate after overstimulating the shit out of you. “You tired, bub?” 

You murmured faintly with your eyes closed and wrapped your arms around his neck, nuzzling into him. He chuckled and scooped you up in his arms, “Alright, let’s get you cleaned up and tucked into bed, baby.”

[90ekz]

Hello, i loved your shidou headcannons, please some more 🙏🏾

thanks for giving me an excuse to talk my shit again 😁.

SHIDOU BF HEADCANONS PT 2 ! <pt1>

- slow, deliberate strokes >> hurried ones for this man. the deeper, the better, he’d kill a thousand men to watch your face scrunch up as he slowly digs you out.

- tends to isolate himself during arguments to avoid sayin dumb shit. smart.

- (sorta mentioned this before) but BIG HANDS. HUGE. you can’t help but squish your thighs together at the sight of those monsters doing absolutely ANYTHING, especially driving—lawd have mercy. it all makes you so unbelievably horny, it’s annoying :(

- you made the mistake of letting him titfuck you once, and he’s never let it get away from him. he’d always dreamed of doing it. it’s been his biggest fantasy since the day he met you, and best believe the second you offered, his cock was already pressed against your chest with a sly smile splitting his face.

“y’wantme to nut all over that pretty face?”

- hates cleaning but you ask him to do the dishes? they’re gonna be hand-washed with Oxiclean like LMFAO

- choked off moans. that’s it.

- favorite position = reverse cowgirl 110%, if he can’t see sumn shake then what’s the point fr?? the first time you initiated and he saw your plump ass grinding on him the way it was? bro was done for 😭😭

- yea he loves when you get all done up for sure, but that bonnet & tshirt combo? yeaaaa sit on his face.

“moveee yo breath stank!” “bae, at least gimme a lil kiss.” “no.” “ya just look so pretty like that—fuck. lemme eat-” “FUCK NO!”

- it’s always first thing in the morning, but he can’t help it! lil man gets stiff in the morning cut him some slack fr.

- wanna take control? bite him. on his neck, chest, thighs, whatever, he gets stiff as a board and hard as a rock. he loves that shit.

[thedeluluverse]

Author’s Note:  Welp, this ended up way longer than I plannedXD Sorry for the delays but I hope y’all like it and please please please gimme ALLLLLL the feedback! Been a while since I wrote and very nervous haha XD

Summary: Y’all have been friends for 5 years, but there are still sides to him that you’d never imagined. Will his tricks work or push you away?

Pairing:  prisonguard!sunoo x inmate!femalereader (mentions of Sunghoon)

Rating: 18+

Genre:  angst, smut, one-shot, prison au, yandere fic, happy ending

Word Count: 4,124

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI  extreme “Brought the Heat Back” feelings, explicit content, oral sex (f. receiving), breast play, squirting, clit play, praise kink, neck kissing, degradation, unprotected p in v (be smart kids), yandere/obsession themes, secretly monitored self-pleasure, wrongful imprisonment, Y/N glossing over red flags (don’t do this irl pls)

Since the summer before you went into high school, you and Sunoo have been friends. It started when you went to his friend Jake's house for an end-of-middle-school pool party, and you both bonded over judging the annoying tweens around you.

As fate would have it, you ended up having many of the same class periods all throughout high school and grew even closer over several study sessions. Both went solo together to dances but acted like one asked the other when anyone asked to avoid looking pathetic.

That is until the senior year Sadie Hawkins dance. A new student had joined the roster and immediately became the focal point of school for you. His name was Sunghoon, and he was the right amount of reserved and sarcastic to give you heart eyes.

Despite your nerves and insecurities, you worked up the courage to ask Hoon (a nickname he recently accepted after many hangouts together) to the dance. To your surprise, he rapidly accepted your invitation!

Proud of yourself and overwhelmed with excitement, you call Sunoo after school to tell him of this accomplishment and see if he wanted to go shopping with you this weekend.

After a quick snack, you call your best friend, "Hey, Sun-sun, are you busy?" "Nope, Y/N, just avoiding homework, haha. What's up?" "Ohhhhh well, nothing much except I asked Hoon to the dance, and he said yes! Can you believe that???".

Deafening silence extinguishes your enthusiasm as quickly as it sparked, "Um, Sunoo...you there?"

A couple more seconds pass, and he says, "The call is still going, isn't it?" With a scoff, you retort, "Oh, excuse me, sassy king, it was hard to tell when you made no indication that you heard me."

He has the nerve to get offended and goes, "Sorry if I didn't clap for joy at the fact that for the first time since we came to this shithole, I'll have to stay home for a dance. I mean, whoopee for you, but you gave me no warning that you'd abandon me like this."

You are speechless. It's the last reaction you expected, and now you feel bad for not at least letting him know. "I... I'm not sorry I asked him, but I apologize for not setting you up or warning you first. I can try to hook you up with my friend if you want!" "No, it’s fine. Have fun. I have to get started on homework. Talk to you later. Unless you forget all about me...”

With that, he hangs up and leaves you stunned, sitting on your bed slack-jawed. You honestly thought he would be happy for you. Feeling lost, you call your friend Ara, "I have no idea why he would react that way. Can you believe that?!"

She gives a disappointed sigh, then says, "I actually can. Imagine if he gave you no heads up and sprung on you having a date to the dance. And don't even pretend like that'd be okay with you, girl.”

Dejectedly, you admit that she’s right and just can’t get over the intensity of his reaction, to which Ara says, “Oh come on, you can’t be this clueless... he has had a crush on you forever.” “WHAT? Noooo, don’t give me false hope like that.”

She snorts. “Heh, you finally admit it. You have a thing for him! Well, it looks like you have to choose. Pretty new boy or tried and true rock?”

Pondering her words, you make a plan of action, “Hmmm, well, I may never get lucky enough for a guy like Hoon not to reject me, so I’ll stick with that, and then next week, I’ll tell Sunoo how I feel.”

Giving a hum of approval for your plan, Ara warns you not to play with either boy’s emotions or neglect your own. “Do what makes you happy, Y/N; whoever you don’t choose will just have to deal.”

Meanwhile, Sunoo avoids you like the plague for the next week, even going so far as to switch lab partners.

All of that is almost forgotten once the day of the dance finally arrives. You feel like the prettiest vampire queen in a floor-length ruby-toned number that lays perfectly off your shoulders and hugs all the right places.

After Hoon's mom drops you off, the night is a blur. A magical blur where he indeed must be a prince in another life with how well he is treating you. After a couple of slow songs with y'all almost kissing, you excuse yourself to the restroom to try to settle your nerves and try to summon some courage.

You exit, and upon reaching the hallway, you see Sunoo. He looks awestruck, and you blush. "Hey, Y/N, I'm really sorry. I overreacted, and well, I miss my friend. Will she accept me back?"

Pretending to think, you finally smirk and say, "I suppose I will accept your apology. I missed you too!" After tightly embracing each other, he steps back and says, "Well, my beautiful bestie, you wanna head back in and ditch Mr. Stuck Up? The chaperones are dissociating, so I'll be able to sneak in no problem."

You back away, upset, "First off, flattery won't get me to allow you to talk badly of him or convince me to sneak you in. Secondly, he is not stuck up; he is just still fairly new and reserved. Once you give him a chance, you'll see he is really cool!"

Rolling his eyes, he walks away, waving you off, "Have fun with my replacement. I'll see you around, maybe.."

In shock, you are frozen in the shadows when Hoon comes to find you. "There you are. You were gone so long that I got worried about you and had to come look for you. Everything okay?"

Smiling away the tears threatening to ruin your makeup, you nod and head back inside. You try to enjoy the rest of the dance, but the look in Sunoo's eyes haunts your memory.

It was like when he got picked last for dodgeball and by the opposite team, not even by you, but more intense and frightening if you're honest.

After graduation, you hear he got accepted to the security guard training program at the local jail while you were still waiting to hear back from your photography internship. It was annoying, but you try to hope it'll still happen.

The park was quiet for once, so you head over to take some more nature shots in your free time. Panning over to the left of you, a figure comes into focus, coming towards you. Shockingly, you see Sunoo smiling in your direction, and anxiety freezes you in place.

"Hello, stranger," he quips as he sits beside you on the bench. You scoot away from him, annoyed that he was so lighthearted when he was the one who parted ways.

"Can I help you, Mr. Kim?" "Why so formal? It's just me, Y/N." Crossing your arms, you look the other way and say, "Well, I don't tend to act friendly to people who walk out of my life for stupid reasons."

Pouting, he gets up suddenly, leaving you even more confused than before, then reappears about 5 minutes later with two cups in his possession. "All right, peace treaty apple juice. Let’s forget about all the high school silliness and share this with me before I go off to training.”

Almost denying his request, you realize how dehydrated you are and say fuck it downing the whole thing.

Not even 5 minutes pass, and you start to feel weird. You are barely able to convey this to Sunoo before you pass out. Unable to tell how long you were out, you awaken to being handcuffed and shoved in a police car.

Through half-open eyes, you scan around for Sunoo or anyone you know, but all you meet are the blinding sirens, which only make the pounding in your head worse.

The entire ride to the processing center, your mind is racing, trying to figure out how you got in this predicament, and freaking out because your independent life has only just begun and you had so many plans!

They bring you in and take your mugshot. Nobody is telling you what is happening, assuming you are only playing naïve to pull one over on them.

Going down the hall of multiple holding cells, the current inmates look just as confused as you feel, wondering what such a young girl is doing in this wretched place.

Distracted with your thoughts, you practically are thrown into a tiny room with just a bed, sink, and a hole to use the bathroom with no windows.

About to ask why you were not given the option for a call or are being separated from the rest of the people (not that you were upset, but it was worrying you how dangerously you were being treated), the female guard shoves you into the room and slams the door in your face with a "Shut the fuck up you waste of space."

Seems like around 3 days have passed. The only way you can tell is because you have been given 6 meal trays and heard from your trek to your room on the first day, inmates being upset they only get 2 meals daily.

While you are still confused about why the hell you are in this place, your strategy at this point is just to do as you are told and try to stay low until you can speak to someone with legitimate authority.

With this new mindset, the rest of your body is returning to normal, which is mostly a good thing...

The exception is your libido. It has returned with a vengeance, and once the lights go out on the 4th day, you decide to risk it not having spotted a camera yet.

Between your regular sex drive and all of the unfairness and frustrations with your situation, you cannot hold back any longer.

Right before you are about to hit your climax, you hear the keys in your door and freeze.

Pretending to sleep, you roll over onto your side and stick your fingers in your mouth to hide the smell of your sex, hoping they will buy that you still soothe yourself this way as an almost adult.

The door swings open, and you hear the footsteps approach you. You try to keep breathing normally even though you are terrified. The figure above you chuckles, and your heart plummets.

You try to convince yourself you are going insane, but there is no denying it once you hear the voice say, "Now, when did you start sucking your fingers when you sleep? In all of our sleepovers, I have never seen you do that."

You shoot up and start bawling, finally letting your body release all of the emotions that have been pent up since this whole ordeal began. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him down into a tight embrace. Big mistake.

As he stands back up, he notices the sweat along your hairline from your previous activity and widens his eyes in concern, "Oh no, Y/N, do you feel okay? Are you getting a fever? You felt warm just now."

Blushing quicker than ever, you fervently shake your head in denial, "No, Sun-sun, I feel fine; was just a little warm, I promi-“

He cuts off your sentence by grabbing ahold of your chin and tilting your head up as he moves even closer to your ear whispering “Don’t lie to me when I saw everything you needy slut.”

Your eyes widen in horror, and confusion clouds your brain again as you look at him through your peripheral vision, "Wait, what do you mean? How? Why am I in here?"

Sinisterly chuckling, he gives you his cheeky smile. "Patience, I'll answer your questions and then help you with your little dilemma. Terribly sorry to interrupt, by the way, but you looked so sinful that I was hoping to catch you in the act." "Um, and what makes you think I would've let you? Or even needed your help?"

Sitting on the bed with you, he quirks up an eyebrow, "Slow down, I still haven't answered the first round of questions."

Pouting, you sit back against the wall and hold your knees to your chin, a medley of unpleasant feelings swirling in your gut.

Tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear, he begins addressing your queries. "Okay so I may have commandeered the feed from your camera into a personal monitor so I can keep an eye on you. No biggie between friends, right?"

Your face turns red at him, using that title from when he went to M.I.A. for weeks after graduation. "How dare you..." you scowl at him. "Oh, now calm down, drama queen, so I can continue with my answers."

Begrudgingly, you do so but not without a lethal side eye aimed at the wall, slightly scared to direct it his way.

You never thought your friend would spy on you or call you a slut and aren’t keen to find out what other secrets are lying in wait.

Continuing his replies, “I know you would’ve let me because even if you try to deny it, we both have had feelings for each other since week one. As to you needing my help, I know you had everything perfectly under control but I feel like you crave more than your fingers kitten.”

Not daring to speak when he clocked your shit so accurately and your face looks like a tomato, you just hide your face. "Knew it." He states smugly. "Alright, on to the next matter: why are you here? It's all thanks to me, of course."

Slowly, you raise your head in horror as your entire body shakes. Scooting back as much as possible, you ask, "Wait, you are playing a trick on me, right? There is no reason for you to do that. Nice try, dude.."

He stands up and starts pacing around the room, "Oh, I had my reasons. First, things were getting too serious with that Hoon guy, and I didn't like it. And you might have found out you got accepted to a photography internship, which would take you away from me, and that can't happen...not yet. So, I would check your mail before you and only take out mail from the places you applied."

You stand up now with fists balled up at your sides. "What are you going on about? Not yet? Why don't you want me to be happy?" you scream at him with tears running down your face for the second time tonight.

As he approaches you, he wipes a tear from your cheek and kisses your forehead, "Oh darling, you still don't get it. I want nothing more than for you to be happy. Just not without me and not before I unlock the key to your tight pussy that I've dreamt about for years."

You freeze, staring at the wall, "What did you do? You still haven't answered why I got thrown in here and treated like a villain. Tell. Me. Now."

He sits you down on the bed again, looking down as if you were a rat caught in his trap. Which you were, by the way.

He squats down, staring into your soul as he reveals the remaining puzzle pieces. "Well, I got accepted into this place as a star trainee with excellent scores. They basically told me to use my best judgment and make them proud. My parents were not thrilled that I hadn't pursued a more upstanding career choice, so I wanted to prove to them that I could thrive here. You just happened to be the perfect muse to show them all my skills."

Taking a deep breath and looking too excited to finish relaying this info to you, he continues, "Well, when I spotted you in the park looking dejected but having that trying-to-distract-yourself look in your eyes, I knew it was my time to strike. I expertly mixed apple-flavored alcohol in the juice and then 'spilled' some on myself. I called a couple of buddies in the force to come over and help execute my plan."

All of your tears have dried up as you are burning up, wondering who the person is in front of you. "Don't worry, it gets better," he says as he pats your knee.

Cracking his neck, he nears the end of his story. "So basically, you are in here because I made you look like an underaged alcoholic by having the empty bottle right next to you, then lying to the officers and saying you were pressuring me to drink with you. Oh, also, you were trying to sell shots to our classmates and even the middle schoolers. They are so worried about this getting out with the mayoral election coming up and your parents being his friends that they aren’t allowing any visitors or calls from or for you until the sentencing.”

You stand up, knocking him on his ass in fury, "How could you?! If you had just told me how you felt ages ago, you could have gotten what you wanted instead of keeping it in and becoming this creepy psychopath! I demand a lawyer!”

He cackles while fully lying down on the floor, "You have no pull, sweetheart, but nice try, hah! Even your parents aren’t asking about you, hoping this all blows over and they can maintain their perfect image."

With his eyes closed, still laughing, you cage him beneath you and start to choke him. This time, he freezes and smirks up at you, "Oh, this is how you wanna play it, huh? Pretending you are furious instead of insanely turned on and hoping this ends with you knowing how I feel inside of you. Cute, really."

You scowl down at him and are about to get off of him when he roughly grabs your hips and pulls you back down onto him. "Oh no, there's no getting out of this. How does it feel finally being able to feel how excited you make me? Honestly, it feels like you are excited, too, with the wet spot you left on me."

Face flushing in embarrassment, you glance at the floor to escape his intense gaze, but all masking ability flies out of the window as soon as he bucks his hips against you, eliciting a breathy whimper from your throat.

The moment it exits your mouth, you bite your lip and try to escape his hold. Or at least you meant to...

Instead, you end up grinding against his hardening cock through both of your pants. Feeling his deep chuckle against your clit, you spasm, and he just grins as he pulls you down to attack your lips with a furiously passionate set of long-awaited kisses, entwining your tongues and both assaulting the other's lips with teasing sucks and bites.

When you finally can pull away and catch your breath, he sits up as you wobbly stand and immediately backs you into the bed with his arms on either side of your head, licking from your collarbone up to your ear lobe, enjoying you moaning his name.

That was the final straw of resolve. It snapped like the tiniest twig in your core, and an animalistic need overwhelmed you as you dug your claws into his back underneath the plain white under-uniform tee that clung to his muscles just right.

Gasping for air, you beg, “Sunoo. Please...I need you.." while trying to undress him.

He smirks while he cocks his head to the side, "You're lucky hearing you beg was my last thread of teasing you leaving. Strip for me, needy whore."

With that, you spring onto your feet like a lithe cat and strip with lightning speed, laying back on the bed with everything exposed down to your arousal-soaked lips.

You usually were shyer, but you couldn't help it after the earlier interruption, plus finding out he felt the same way. You would deal with the red flags after you came.

Staying in his simple yet sexy white tee and dark grey workout pants, he descends like a hawk. He licks a broad stripe from your pussy to your sensitive bundle of nerves, making you cry out and grip his hair to keep your soul from flying out of your body too rapidly.

Immediately, you trap his neck between your thighs, not letting him weasel his way away and tease you for a second more.

He picks up on your neediness, and tongue fucks your velvety cunt whilst moaning into you, letting any insecurity of smelling or tasting weird disappear without a trace.

Rising up on his elbows, he makes a show of licking his lips, leaving his chin shiny with your pleasure, and makes his way up your body so you can taste yourself off of him as he makes circles with his thumb on your growingly sensitive clit.

Feeling your high about to crash upon you, you exhale, "Sunoo, I'm about to." Yet, before you can finish your sentence, he shoves you off of the edge by taking your plump breast into his mouth and matching the pace of his fingers with his tongue around your nipple.

As you cum, he disappears between your thighs again, not wanting to waste a single drop (or leave any evidence) while continuing to squeeze and slap your tits. When he can feel you are getting close again, he quickly makes space between your bodies, causing you to sit up and dig your nails into his thighs, making him moan loudly.

Then he adds salt to the wound by lightly slapping your pussy, making you squirt for the first time all over the bottom of his shirt and dick print.

Straddling him now that he is fully erect is torturous; while you nibble along his neck and behind his ear, you ask, “C’mon Sunoo, I need to feel you in me...please.”

Throwing his head back to allow you to kiss more of his neck, he just smirks and says, “Well, someone is needy tonight...well, you have been such a good little thing for me, I will grant your wish, pretty. First, you have to get up so I can get out of these damp clothes”.

Feeling bold, you raise up just enough to pull down his pants along with his boxers and then straddle him again while he sits up and removes his shirt while kissing and playing with your perfect tits.

After you give him your adorable yet seductive pleading eyes, he stops wasting time. He flips you onto your back again and, with utmost sincerity and care in his eyes, says, “You ready? Stop me if it hurts, okay? I really do care about you.”

Tears welling in your eyes, you nod and subtly pull his hips closer to you. You have liked him for a long time, and despite all of the nasty lust that has occurred tonight, it was weirdly healing at the same time.

He slowly slides the tip in, and after a few seconds, you surprisingly quickly can let him quicken his thrusts and go even deeper, both uttering sensual guttural noises in unison as soon as he bottoms out.

You notice him blush and quirk your eyebrow this time asking what is going on. He looks to the side then admits,” Well, this feels amazing, like even better than I’ve imagined, and I know that sounds cliché, but trust me...that’s a big deal. And well, I don’t think I’ll last much longer, sadly; I want to, but...yeah, sorry..”

Latching your ankles around his hips, you just bite your lips and eyefuck him as a green light, to which he gives you a deep, caring kiss as he slowly hits that sweet spot inside you, resulting in a simultaneous orgasm with the both of you collapsing in sweet bliss.

He cannot stay around too long, or the guard headquarters will get suspicious, but he lingers as long as he can while he tries to rinse out your delicious scent from his clothing.

You have the best sleep that night and are oddly comforted by someone caring that much. You are at peace knowing there are mutual feelings and hoping y'all can date normally once you are released.

Until you are released (about a week later), Sunoo frequently visits your cell of solitude because he is the only guard who can "handle" you. Over time, you become closer and decide that you will finally pursue a healthy relationship once you are free, and he will not have to stalk you anymore.

[wizisbored]

so this whumptober snippet was going to have a slightly more conclusive ending and actually get edited but circumstances arose so im just throwing out what ive got. enjoy this first-draft chunk of the running iron 👍

(for the benifit of those who may find this through tags without knowing the au - its a beetlejuice western au but beetlejuice and lydia are centaurs. and to clarify another detail, female centaurs are flat-chested and the mentioned corsets are purely for back support.)

///

Lydia’s been quiet for a while. It’s not that that’s unusual - there’s a good lot more railroad than topics for conversation - but each time Beetlejuice glances across at her she’s folded more and more forward over her collar. Her arms are folded like usual, or at least he thought they were at first. When he realizes she’s got her hands shoved in her armpits is when he decides to comment.

“How’s it going on your side of the tracks?” he asks.

She answers him through gritted teeth. “I can feel my skin burning.”

“Oh. Shit. Can I see?”

She pulls one hand from under her arm and moves a little closer to the tracks, the second motion copied by Beetlejuice. It looks like the black hair on the back of her hand has offered a little protection, but the rest of the skin below her shirt cuff is an angry red. Sure, he’s noticed tan lines appearing around both of their wrists and necks, but this is something far worse. And looking at her again, he can see some red in her cheeks and her nose - her hat has given her a little more protection there, but it’s obvious she’s still burned.

“Fucking hell, kid. Get some water on your arm wraps and use those.”

She shakes her head, hiding her hand under her armpit again. “I’m not pouring out my drinking water.”

“Fair enough. You can still cover your hands, though.”

She fumbles for her sleeve buttons, wincing as she unfastens them with her scorched fingers. She pulls off her neat arm wraps and haphazardly winds them around her hands, shoving them back under her arms.

“We’re not that far off, are we?” she asks.

“No. We’ll get you cooled off real soon, kid.”

She nods, grabbing her waterskin and taking a swig. For a while the silence returns, save for their own feet and the noise of the wheels and the jingling of whippletrees and chains behind them. The sun beats down like always. The dust Beetlejuice kicks up sticks in the sweat on his legs.

“I dunno if my water’s gonna last,” Lydia comments eventually.

“Well you’re not getting mine,” Beetlejuice replies without thinking, but then he looks over at her. The parts of her face that aren’t red are almost white, and her eyes are dull.

“Kid? You doing alright?”

“Just tired. But real tired, more than normal. Dead Tired.”

“But you can make it back, right?”

“I- yeah. Yeah, I think I can make it back.” She shuts her eyes, pressing her hand to her forehead.

“Headache?”

“Mm. Let’s just get back before I throw up.”

“That bad?”

“It’s going that way.”

They plod on. The wheels trundle along the tracks and the chains jingle. The sun beats down. The load on Beetlejuice’s shoulders feels heavier as they close in on the worksite. Steadily heavier, until the hoofbeats across the tracks falter and the traces jerk against his collar.

“Whoa, hey, kid.” He looks across at Lydia, seeing her doing an awkward little limp, obviously hurting but not wanting the car to come to a stop. “You got something in your hoof?”

“Leg’s cramped up, just gimme a moment-”

She stumbles, the chain traces jerking against her as she takes up the slacks and drops it again. She puts her head in her hands again, panting.

“Lyds?”

“Feeling- Feeling kinda dizzy, kinda light-” She clamps one arm to her stomach, grimacing.

“Alright, fuck getting back. You gonna be able to stop the cart?”

“I- I don’t know, I…”

“Kinda a rhetorical question, kid. You aren’t gonna haul it to the end.”

She nods, her face twisted.

“Alright, let’s go. Slow it down.”

Her limping slows, and also gets a lot less steady. Fuck it, no time to do this properly.

“From three, yeah?”

She nods again.

“Three. Two. One-”

He stops, bracing himself against the weight of the cart on the back of his collar and his breeching, keeping his eyes on the filly across the tracks. She tries to brace, he can tell, but the cart jolts her forward and she doesn’t resist. Her hind legs immediately buckle against the breeching, and she doesn’t even manage to sit down into it. She goes all the way down, only held up slightly by the collar still linked to the cart shaft.

“Shit, Lyds, you still with me?!”

She only responds in a whimper, but at least she’s responding. Beetlejuice leans back harder against the cart, making sure it’s definitely stopped - last thing the kid needs is being dragged along with it. She’s gasping for breath, head in her hands, laying half on the tracks with her lower shoulders being lifted a little off the ground by her collar.

“Alright. Fuck. You think you can-”

She cuts him off by vomiting on the rails. He swears yet again, looking to the worksite. They’re not far away, someone might have already seen them, but it’s too far to just yell. He breathes in deep, filling both sets of lungs, and bellows out a call for help. The men won’t understand it, but they’ll definitely hear. Hopefully that will be enough for someone to come investigate.

“Lyds, you gotta get your corset off.”

She groans, weakly pawing at her chest. “I- I can’t-”

“You gotta, or this ain’t getting any better.”

She manages to get a hold on a buckle, but her hands are shaking as she does. Beetlejuice looks back towards the worksite. He can see someone mounting a horse. Hopefully that’s a good sign.

“Alright, Lyds, next buckle. Come on.”

He almost thinks she’s going to throw up again as she hauls the corset off, but she manages it. Underneath, her gray shirt is a shade darker than usual, soaked through with sweat. She heaves a deep breath into all four lungs, coughs, and spits out a last dreg of vomit. Charming.

“You got any water left?” Beetlejuice asks.

“No,” Lydia rasps.

“...Alright, just this once, since you’re dying.” He pulls the strap of his own waterskin off his shoulder and tosses it across. “Not a lot in there, make the most of it.”

Lydia fumbles to open it, immediately gulping the water down.

A shout makes Beetlejuice look up from the downed foal. Two men on horseback are nearing at a lope, one of them yelling for attention.

“It’s the heat,” Beetlejuice yells back. “Kid’s burning to death out here!”

Lydia whimpers beside him. The two horses stumble to a stop beside them, one of the men immediately dropping to the ground to examine Lydia.

“Can you hear me, girl?”

“Yeah. Do- do you have water?”

She’s handed a fresh waterskin and again shows no restraint, though she flinches slightly when the man presses a hand to her forehead.

“It’s the heat,” he reports as he wipes his hand on his shirt, like this is new information. Beetlejuice rolls his eyes, but of course nobody’s looking at him. “We gotta get her back now, you know they’re gonna blame us if heatstroke takes her out. Think we could hold her up from the horses?”

“We can try,” the second man - one with a notable mustache - says. As his companion sets to unhitching Lydia from the cart, he dismounts too and uses his own waterskin to douse her already sodden coat. She jumps initially, but doesn’t protest the sudden shower.

“Alright,” the other, stache-less guy, says. “You mount up, I’ll try to get her up to you.”

He crouches down, hauling one of Lydia’s arms over his shoulders. She tries to push her upper half off the ground as he hauls her up, but it’s clearly a struggle.

“Come on, kid, let’s get you back on your feet.”

Soon enough, they’re both struggling - Lydia struggling to stay upright and the man struggling to hold her weight. But he quickly hands her over to the mounted man, and then she’s his problem. He clings to her for a moment, knuckles white on her sweat-soaked shirt and horse shifting nervously under him until Stacheless gets back on his horse and they’re able to take her weight between them.

“Alright, pull yourself together, girl,” Mustache says as Lydia hangs her head, breath coming in quick, shallow pants. “You gotta get back to the station.”

“Get moving on three, yeah?”

“What about the other one?

“He’ll be fine on his own for five minutes, now come on- One, two, three.”

They lurch forward, the two riders being jerked in their saddles by the weight of the filly on them. For a moment they struggle along, Lydia managing to take a few steps before she retches so violently that it spooks one of the horses. The animal pulls away, Stacheless struggling to keep her grip on Lydia while reining it in, and she takes the opportunity to tug her arms free of the men and less-than-gracefully sit down.

“Come on, girl,” Mustache says. “You wanna fry out here?”

Lydia doesn’t reply, too busy panting. She’s bent over, gripping her knees tight. The man leans off his horse, grabbing her by the shoulder of her shirt and tugging ineffectively. The kid’s sick and stubborn, and she’s got a great deal of weight on him. He’s not getting her anywhere she doesn’t want to be.

“I can’t,” she groans. “I’ll throw up.”

“You gotta. Or the sun’ll kill ya.”

Stacheless, meanwhile, is attempting to coax his horse back to Lydia’s side. The horse, however, seems utterly affronted by the idea that it might be retched at again, and is keeping its distance. Grunting in frustration, its rider looks around for a new solution.

“You,” he says, locking onto Beetlejuice. “You’re dragging her.”

“I am?”

“You are.” He turns to Mustache. “Leave her shirt alone and get over here. We’ll link their whippletrees together, and then I’ll hold her under the arms to keep her head off the ground.”

Beetlejuice raises an eyebrow. “But the rest of her’s just getting raked over the ground, yeah?”

“Fucking Hell- you’d rather leave her to cook out here?”

“...No.”

“Alright, so let’s get going!”

The two men quickly get him unhitched, and then the three of them cross the tracks to Lydia. The foal looks up at him with wide eyes, clearly not overjoyed about the plan, but what the fuck else are they gonna do? Beetlejuice watches over his shoulder as the men hitch them together, Stache hooking his arms under Lydia’s arms to lift her upper torso. It twists her awkwardly, her barrel still on its side on the ground. The foal looks up at the man with wide eyes, obviously not too confident in this plan.

“Hang in there, kid,” Beetlejuice calls back to her. “You can handle this, you’re tough.”

She lets out a weak whimpery groan. And with that, Beetlejuice turns and starts pulling.

Dragging one filly is a lighter load than his share of the car’s weight, but it’s still a struggle to get Lydia back to the worksite. The sun beats down on all of them, Lydia whimpering quietly as she’s dragged backwards across the ground. Beetlejuice’s head is starting to hurt. He’s really wishing he still had his waterskin - why’d he have to go and have stupid feelings of sympathy towards a sick child? But he keeps plowing on, because what the fuck else is he gonna do?

He reaches the site just outside town with his head pounding, mouth dry, ready to collapse. Lydia is crying behind him, from the heat or the dragging he can’t tell. But one second it’s just them, trudging through the desert, and then suddenly there’s a flurry of activity and noise. Men surround them, talking, yelling, and then someone grabs Beetlejuice by the collar and drags him - and by extension, Lydia - over to the side of the nearest building, where the wall casts some shade. It’s not that much cooler. They’re messing with the chains between the two centaurs, unhitching them from each other. That’s a relief, at least. No more hauling.

“Get her stripped and douse her,” someone calls as Beelejuice lowers himself to the ground.

“But-”

“Oh pull yourself together, it’s a fucking horse! She’s not got anything you haven’t already seen!”Beetlejuice hears Lydia’s harness being unbuckled behind him. He turns, just in time to see a bucket being set down by her head, which prompts her to haul herself up just enough to start gulping down water. “The other one, too,” someone says, and then there’s hands on his corset buckles. They haul it off and then start on his shirt, and despite the heat he really wants to make a joke about all this ‘frantically stripping him off’ business. But again, Lydia just has to be a child sharing in the predicament. Spoilsport.

[vlad-theimplier]

WIP Wednesday: Custos Custodium

In which Jensen returns from Golem City and has a friendly little chat with Fletcher about timelines and urgency. This was another realism deficiency that bothered me in the games--hopefully my explanation makes sense of both their positions.

Jensen descended into the bowels of the Task Force the next morning to find the office bustling with activity. Brushing off Argento and a handful of others who wanted to know what had gone down in Útulek, he made a beeline for Forensics. Fletcher was going to have answers for him, or he’d know the reason why.

When he badged the lab door open, though, the holotable wasn’t even turned on: Fletcher was just getting set up. He gave Jensen a twitchy, guilty look. “Adam! Hi! I was just, uh…”

“You look rough, Smiley. Been burning the midnight oil, sifting through the data I brought you? Or making time with Sonia?”

Fletcher’s blush was answer enough. “Hey, gimme a break, okay? We’re not all cy—uh, si-i-ingle-minded about the job like you, I mean.”

Jensen fought back a wave of ire, not even sure what had him so pissed off: that even the friendlier members of the team saw him as an Aug first and everything else second, that Fletcher could blow off work to hang out with a lady without fear that he’d accidentally skewer her or blow her up or something, that Jensen himself was less single-minded and more duplicitous than he liked to think about… He went with the safest and least shameful option. “Smiley. People died in there. As did our only other lead. Get your ass in gear.”

“Sure, sure, only… Here, look for yourself, wise guy.” A galaxy bloomed over the holotable in shades of blue. Jensen looked closer and saw that what he’d taken for stars were fragments of shrapnel or rebar. Or people.

“Every single one of these is an artifact I have to examine and rule in or out. Well, okay, I’m double-checking the algorithm, but it’s set to err on the side of inclusivity. This is what I’ve cleared.” A wave swept over the display, turning two-thirds of it dull navy at a stroke. Another wave picked out a loose constellation in teal, pieces joined by wavering lines of light. “This is definitely in. No smoking gun, but components of the bomb.”

“Bombs. Multiple detonations. I told you that, right? It was in my report.”

Fletcher shrugged. “Haven’t read your report. Too busy sifting the debris. But that checks out.” He hit a button and the constellation split, wheeled, and reassembled itself into five more compact arrangements.

“Save you any time?” Jensen asked hopefully.

“Nah. But it looks right. Thanks for the insight, okay? I’ll let you know when I have something.”

“Don’t get distracted.” Jensen gave him one last stern and hortatory glare, then turned to go.

“I’m supposed to have a team, you know,” Fletcher muttered.

Jensen paused on the threshold. “Are you now.”

Fletcher shot him a sulky sidelong look from where he stood bent over the holotable, prodding at the glimmering array. “Prague’s HQ, right? For Central Europe? Our lab’s supposed to have a forensic technician to do this sort of thing, plus someone for DNA and other biologicals, plus someone else for chemical analysis—drugs, explosives, you know.”

“I get the picture.”

But Fletcher had a head of steam up. “And a forensic cyberanalyst, and a ballistician, and a crime scene services unit: one person for photos and scans, one person for evidence collection and chain of custody. Instead, you have me. Pete’s been handling digital forensics on top of the rest of his workload, and Aria’s done the guns, when we’ve had them. But I’m supposed to be overseeing six to eight people. So maybe cut me a little slack, huh?”

Jensen grunted. “So where are they? Your merry band?”

“Well, the Task Force itself is barely a year old. It takes time to find talent.”

“You don’t say.”

“And apparently not everyone wants to work for the UN. Between all the bureaucracy and the joys of getting reassigned to the other side of the planet if they decide they need you… I hear I might get a chemist next month, if the background check clears, and they’re interviewing general forensics techs. You’ll just have to be patient until they get started—then things will speed up.”

“I get it. But we’re working on a bombing, and hopefully stopping the next one. We all gotta make some sacrifices. Still, I hope your team comes through—just be a little less ‘collegial’ with them than you were with that tech at State Police, okay?” He pretended not to notice Fletcher scratching his cheek with one extended middle finger as he turned and headed for his desk.

[teamcivilian]

007 Fest 2023 Team Civilian Captains Intro Post:

Co-captain Lasika (aka turtle) @00qsillyfanturtle

Civilian Name: Domino's Turtle Taxi (a tourist attraction run by no one other than Emilia Janusova)

Second year at Fest and a first time co-captain (exciting and terrifying in equal measures 😬). And a second time civilian on top!

More into the 00q side of things, though I do adore the Daniel Craig Bond movies (and the others too, for sure, but DC Bond did make me cry in a way the others quite didn't manage to 😐).

I am neither a fanfic author (hello ao3) nor a fanartist (nor that good a gifmaker 😓) but I am an awesome cheerleader/enabler of all fan things that must be written, drawn and/or created in any format xD so feel free to prod me here on Tumblr or Slack :D

I'm super excited for Fest as my first experience was an absolute blast and I had so much fun making new friends in the Bond fandom (you guys know who you are! Good luck - now you are stuck with me 😈). So here's me hoping to make more new friends, hopefully participate in some activities (come on, workplace, gimme a break!), and make sure that Team Civilian has a great time too during the Fest!

*

Hello Everyone,

Co-captain Penny

@crewman-penelope here!

Civilian Name: Gingerfan

This is my third fest year, my first as co-captain.

Bond fan since childhood, back sucked in while the Pandemic, I happily found this awesome community on Tumblr ❤️

I'm a fanfiction writer, picture editor and lousy gif-maker, just for fun, and the creator of the Safin Sunday. You can find me on A03 as Anja_Petterson, and speak with me here on Tumblr on the chat system.

I can't wait to meet the team and to create some awesome Bond relates stuff with you all!

[frillyfacefins]

Fun-Filled Fizzie Fucking - Chapter 2

Fandom: Helluva Boss Rating: Explicit Pairing: Ozzie/Fizzarolli Tags: Recreational Drug Use, Drugged Sex, long elaborate smut in multiple chapters, Heavy BDSM, Bondage, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Weed Brownies, no beta we‘re already in hell, Food Play, not really food kink this time though, nausea play in second chapter but it‘s completely skippable, kind of bad bdsm etiquette, ozzie tries his best but fizzy is still fizzy, Rimming, Showers, Dirty Talk, So Much Dirty Talk Word Count Chapter 2: 1,061

WARNING: This is the one with the nausea play (no vomiting though), if that‘s an issue for you pls go right on to chapter 3; the only thing you need to know that Fizz has eaten half a brownie more.

Also on AO3

Chapter 1 II Chapter 3 || Chapter 4

Summary:

Photoshoots always left Fizz feeling as if somebody had shoved a TENS-unit up his ass and followed it with an espresso enema. ~~~ Fizzarolli comes home high off adrenaline after a big day and gets lovingly brought down by Ozzie with the help of some weed brownies and a new toy Ozzie has been working on…

The sound of ripping silk sent a shiver of such intensity up Fizz‘s spine that it slipped out of his mouth as a trembling moan. Ozzie pulled the tear apart until Fizz could feel air against his balls, but then he stopped. The waistband was still intact, and so was the front part of the flimsy little piece of underwear. His hole, taint and the back of his balls were completely exposed to Ozzie‘s gaze. He felt as if he could feel Ozzie‘s eyes on him, heating up the areas that were now laid bare until his skin felt scorched.

And then there was a large hand grabbing the base of his tail, and a hard slap made his skin actually burn.

“Fuck!“ he yelled, his body reflexively surging forward. The hand on his tail didn‘t relent, though, and the painful pull both added to the stinging pain and immediately made Fizz‘ body go slack to avoid injury. His heart was pounding from the tight feeling that seemed to echo up his spine. He was sensitive about his tail, not just because of the intensity of the feeling of being touched there, but also because it was the last thing he still had - the last appendage that was left. He knew that Ozzie wouldn‘t seriously hurt him—or at least, he was pretty sure he wouldn‘t do that during sex—but just the feeling of a strong hand holding him like this…

There was another slap, making Fizz wince and his cock jump and rub against the already damp silk of his ruined panties.

“Ozzie, please,“ he whimpered, trying to push his ass up more to get the hand that was now rubbing over his hot cheeks move down to his needy cock. “Please, I‘m so hard already, please gimme something here…“

Ozzie‘s weight behind him shifted, and then he felt his large, still fully clothed body lean over him so he could kiss Fizz‘s shoulder were his shirt had slipped down.

“Don‘t worry, my cute little darling… I‘ll be giving you plenty…“

Fizz could see his arm reaching forward towards the baking pan and pick up a piece of brownie, about half the size of the first one Fizz had had.

“Open up, baby.“

Fizz closed his eyes and opened his mouth. Ozzie stuffed the whole piece into Fizz‘ mouth and then clamped his hand over it.

“Don‘t swallow until I tell you,“ Ozzie whispered against his ear, then he sat up again, though he kept his hand over Fizz‘s mouth so he wouldn‘t be able to spit out the brownie either.

Just after a few seconds Fizz found out that one thing about chocolate, especially chocolate cake, was that the delicious taste soon became too much for his tastebuds. He did his best not to swallow, but it seemed a nearly impossible task, even with Ozzie‘s other hand letting go of his tail and slipping down between his thighs to let his fingers play with his balls while the tip of his thumb pushed against his still tightly closed asshole. His saliva was pooling in his mouth, turning the chocolate cake into a disgusting mess, threatening to spill out between his lips and against Ozzie‘s hand. Ozzie kept rubbing his fingers over his taint and his entrance and began to kiss the base of his tail and up his spine while Fizz‘ eyes were tearing up and his stomach began to roil with the intense bitterness the chocolate taste had morphed into.

“Good boy,“ Ozzie finally whispered against his shoulders. „Swallow now.“

Relief turned to panic when Fizz tried to swallow and found out that the right time to get the sludge down had apparently already passed. He felt like he was about to puke, but somehow he managed to get the chocolate-spit mix down. He had to close his eyes and take several deep breaths while he tried to swallow the rest of the bitter taste in his mouth. Ozzie‘s hand was off his mouth now, and while that made breathing easier, it didn‘t help with the nausea.

Ozzie seemed to notice that he wasn‘t feeling good. He pulled him up so he was kneeling and began to gently rub his shoulders and back.

“Deep breaths, baby,“ he whispered into his ear. “Just keep breathing for me, alright?“

Fizzarolli closed his eyes and did as he was told, just concentrating on taking deep, steadying breaths while Ozzie went over to the fridge. Fizz could hear the door open, and then the hiss of a can tab being opened.

“Here you go.“ Ozzie put the can down next to where Fizz‘s hand was limply lying on the counter. He opened his eyes and lifted the can to his face, touched it to his cheeks to enjoy the cold sensation that immediately calmed his nerves, before he took a deep drink of what turned out to be cola. He swished the fizzy drink around in his mouth until the taste of chocolate was gone before he swallowed it, then he followed it with a few more sips until he finally felt normal again.

Ozzie was standing behind him the entire time, idly playing with the tip of Fizz‘s swaying tail. When Fizz sighed and put the can down, he leaned forward, brushed the tail of Fizz‘s hat—beige-and-pink striped, today—aside and kissed along his neck.

“Such a good boy for me,“ he whispered. “Wanna have a shower before we play? So we can wait for the brownies to do their magic…“

Fizz leaned back into Ozzie‘s touch with a sigh. His stomach was still a little upset, but he couldn‘t taste any chocolate anymore and his heart rate was coming down, so he was good. The weed would likely not take very long to kick in now, but a shower still sounded really good. He‘d been working all day in front of spotlights and everything, and even though he knew Ozzie really, really didn‘t mind fucking him when he was already sweaty and gross, there was still something so damn hot about getting all clean just so you could get dirty again.

Also showering with Ozzie was even better, because there was always a chance that they‘d get dirty while getting clean…

“Let‘s go,“ he said with a smile and lifted his arms so Ozzie could lift him up.

[teebsbutyoudontknow]

Pokémon Ship Week Day 2: Swap

“Alright, get those packages down to runway C.”

Our world is but one of many. And in those many worlds, there are many worlds like our’s, except a few things may be different. This is one of them.

“Yo, Slacker Jones, are you still sleepin’ or have you found the Chesto Berry in your pocket?” Elesa taps her foot into the gritty floor of the shipping facility as she barked into her microphone.

“Elesa c’mon miss, gimme like two seconds here!” Jones whimpered back into his mic. “We’re not all as fast as yer Emolga.”

“Damn straight ya aren’t.” Elesa rolled her jaw as she chewed her bubblegum and strutted around her facility. She was a tall woman. Made it easier to see all the work being done on the planes, even if they never did make cockpits that fit women of her stature right. Her yellow hair was short, but practical. She was a total no-nonsense lady. Her yellow outfit was form fitting only because it had to be; a tight suit that provided ample protection both in the airplane and out. In fact, her squad often painted her on their planes because she was such an example of a hard-focused, go-getter attitude. They admired her for many other reasons too, one of which being her prowess with Electric Pokemon.

“We’re fast because we gotta be fast. Don’t you, *cough* agree, Gus?”

Airplane worker Gus just groaned. He hated that joke. So did his Yamask. Maybe there were parts of her they didn’t admire. Elesa just smirked to herself and cockily chewed her gum, and continued her inspection, until she had heard one of her workers call her name out.

“Elesa! Elesaaaa!”

The blonde turned her head and wrinkled her nose as she saw one of her Gym Trainers dash over to her.

“Oh, hey Ted.” The man was tired from his short sprint, taking some time to collect his breath.

“Ooogh. Ugh. Sorry. You have a visitor.” He spoke, standing up and saluting her.

“Really now? Who is it? Silph Co. again, or is it Devon Corp?”

“...Actually, its Skyla.” The man swallowed his tongue.

Elesa stopped chewing her gum. Her jaw went slack again, until she closed it with a shake of her head. “The idol from Nimbasa? No way. Why’s she here? Did we Muk up her delivery yesterday?”

“The opposite, actually!”

From behind Ted came walking in a lady with a sparkling sky-blue dress. Her shoulders would be bare, if it wasn’t her wreath of feathers wrapped around her neck. Her red hair was done up in such a way that it almost reminded one of a Swanna’s beak. And everything stood out well against her lightly melanated skin. Skyla, the high-flying celebrity of Nimbasa City. Infamous for shooting herself out of cannons so she can gracefully soar amongst the Flying-Types of the Unova region.

“I just wanted to come by and thank you personally for the delivery last night. My show wouldn’t have been nearly as successful without all the gunpowder.” She spoke earnestly, her hands clasped together as she looked up to Elesa.

“...Oh.” Elesa was present there, but she didn’t think much of it. Most of her delivery work was just that, work. But it was a pretty thankless job. People expect things to be on time, so they notice when things go wrong, and not when things go right. At least that’s what her teacher, Clay, told her before. So she never really heard anyone actually thank her for a job well done. And she felt touched. And unusually warm at her core.

“W-well, uh, I hope Mistralton Cargo Services kept your delivery quick and safe!” She admired the appreciation, but it didn’t change her work ethic. She began to walk off and resume her inspection, before Skyla threw her hands out and squawked at her. At this point, Ted was long gone.

“H-hey! Wait, wait! Elesa.” Skyla brushed at Elesa’s arm. The taller woman stopped in her tracks, turning to face the idol.

“...I. I didn’t come here strictly for professional reasons.” The high-flying girl sighed.

Elesa cocked an eyebrow. “And there’s something personal?”

“...Yes. Yeah, actually. As a matter of fact, I flew in to ask you out on a date.” Skyla emphasized her words with an awkward swing of her hands, a stomp to the ground, and a half-shrug pose.

“...” Elesa would’ve tilted her sunshades down if she had any. “...You. Asking me out. If I’m sleeping I hope a Gengar doesn’t eat my dream right now.”

“Elesa, you’re awake. Or rather, I hope you are.” Skyla gripped at Elesa’s hand. The hand she uses to hold onto her throttle lever. Yup, she’s awake.

“Guess I am.” Elesa blushed. She wasn’t used to this emotion. Let alone having a literal celebrity ask her out on a date.

“I was, er.” Skyla bit her lower lip. “Awestruck when I first saw you. I wanted to get your number, but then Cress made me go backstage to get ready, and by the time I got out, you were gone. So I just came to the source.” Skyla receded back with every other word she spoke. “I hope I didn’t bother you or your work.”

“A date’s a date.” Elesa replied, matter-of-factly and handed her notepad to a random Pilot nearby.

“E-eh?! You sure?!” Skyla stammered.

“Of course I am! I wouldn’t be a very good pilot if I lied.”

Skyla began to smile. That made Elesa smile too.

“‘Sides.” Elesa continued. “I want to see if you’re as smitten as a Litten.” She playfully poked Skyla on the bridge of her nose.

Skyla giggled. Then, she began to laugh. Elesa never had anyone laugh at her jokes before, either. This was going to work out just fine.

[its-my-whump]

June of Doom - (Day 30)

AP: "I can't stand seeing you like this."

Disfiguration

Follow-up: Days 25 to 29 (no 27)

TW: aftermath domestic abuse, blood, gore, pain, helplessness, despair and probably swearing.

They shuffled through the hallways towards Mrs. Dawson, the school nurse. Andy was more than thankful, that the halls were abandoned, for every good pupil was already in class. But he was ashamed, that he was forced to lean a big part of his own body weight onto Alison. He was surprised, he could actually keep his feet under him at all. She was a head smaller, but Alison hardly seemed to struggle under the additional obstacle of a semi-conscious guy on her thin shoulders.

"What happened? You got into a fight or something?" He had problems concentrating on her words, not even to mention thinking of a reasonable answer. His shoulders shrugged defeated and he was saved by the appearance of Mrs. Dawson just exiting her station.

She was carrying a plate with little flasks and a stage of papers, that she almost dropped, when she took sight of them. Her eyes went wide while the things on the plate shifted loudly. Her vision had jumped from his pale face to the hand on his chest covered in light red. Her facial expression turned professional in an instant again. She made a step back into the open door and gestured them with a nod to follow her. "Come."

More noise from the plate when it was forcefully parked on a desk nearby. She took the folded blanket from the gurney by the wall and helped Alison to sit the patient down on the edge.

Andy was beyond exhausted and almost folded the moment his weight was shifted. "Easy, easy." Strong hands of that hearty elderly women lay him down. His vision went black of a second.

"You look like a dead man walking, darlin'. What's your name? And what happened?" Andy was too weak and confused to answer.

"This is Andy. I'm Alison. He fai... passed out in the hallway, he's burning up and I think he's kind of bleeding" Alison helped out pointing to his chest a bit lost.

Mrs. Dawson put the back of her hand against his forehead. It felt heavenly cool. "Dear Lord!" Was her only reaction. "Gimme that thermometer from over there, love." Her voice was soft, some shuffling in the background. Andys eyes were still closed and the nurse pulled them back gently one by one using her pen light.

Something in his ear. "103.2 You're melting honey." Her tone was matter of factly, but she could hardly hide her concern.

"Alison, would you please step outside for a moment, love." It wasn't a question the dedicated nurse presented to the girl, while her fingertips brushed over Andys right hand, which was still pressed to his chest. By all the pain he felt, he was surly going to fall apart, when he tried to remove it.

He didn't register the girl's silent answer and the door closing. Mrs. Dawson was leaning over his slack form on the gurney, trying to talk to him.

"Could you please open your eyes for me, Andy." Her tone was soothing and he tried to obay, while a cool gentle hand touched his cheek. It was so hard, his lids so heavy all of a sudden. His vision was only blurry. "That's it. I'm going to remove your hand now and then I have to take a lock under your shirt. A'right love." A slight nod was all he could master. "That's my boy."

Maybe he blacked out, maybe he just skipped time. After a sharp biting pain, that seemed to last a lifetime and an almost painful hiss somewhere above him matching his own outcry, it felt like she put an ice cube onto his flaming skin. It was only her stethoscope being moved.

"Your heart is running a million miles an hour and that wound is badly infected, honey. What happened? Who did this to you?"

If he hadn't been so dizzy, he might have heard her voice shaking. She fumbled with a blood pressure cuff and the stethoscope in the crook of his arm.

Speaking felt like something beyond his capability. 'How did it get this bad this fast? Just a few minutes ago he was still standing.'

Now that change in motion seemed like a wild imaginary dream to him.

"Got mm...mugged." It was the best he could do and the only thing that came to his cottonball-filled head, which threatened to implode any second. A weak moan left his mouth without him noticing it would. She cleared her throat, wanted to object. Wasn't convinced. But instead of arguing which he wasn't in any shape just now, she only asked. "When?" Her face was swimming before his eyes, but her question was clear. "Thur....r.da..." One of her hands held one of his to ground and encourage him to stay with her. She needed to stay professional.

"Oh Lord, that's almost a whole week, without stitches. No wonder it's oozing and got infected."

Andys head was spinning even more so. 'It was Monday, wasn't it. How did it become... a whole week so quickly?'

"You still with me, honey?" 'When had he closed his eyes again?' Another painful sound escaped his lips. He was floating and burning and freezing. And most of all he was tired.

Unfortunately Mrs. Dawsons' workstation wasn't as equipped as she liked it to be and she wasn't able to give the proper care he needed, because he surely needed to be rushed into the ER asap and then be hospitalised. His condition was severe, maybe even life threatening. He was burning up. The infection surely had entered his bloodstream. His heart was jumping to keep up, while his blood pressure was down the drain.

"Honey? I'm calling an ambulance. This needs to be cleaned properly and you need a whole lot of antibiotics. Besides, you're severely dehydrated. When's the last time, you kept something down, that went into your mouth?" Mrs. Dawson had abandoned the idea to give him something to drink. In his condition it would come up anyway and the additional strain of barfing wasn't something his weak body could handle just now.

An almost unnoticeable shrug of his thin shoulders and a kind of apologising look were his answer. It must have been a while, his dry skin and lips, his eyes and the fact, that he had lost weight recently told her.

"I'll prepare an IV and give you some of the good stuff to ease your pain a bit, while we wait, okay?" 'How didn't anyone noticed a half dead kid walking the halls?' Maybe it was a good thing, he wasn't send home. Surely his condition wasn't notices there either.

She leaned close to his ear and whispered soothingly, while her hand brushed over his feverish forehead. "I'm actually not supposed to do that, but I really can't stand seeing you like that, honey." She blinked at him encouraging.

"Now, you want to tell me what cruel individual scared you this way, honey?"

xxx

Masterlist

[pedgito]

This is just something funny I thought about, not a request, but you can make it into something if you want:

Modern au Eddie, reader is at his trailer hanging out scrolling through social media, reader receives a random dicpic and Eddie hears the reader groan about it and how annoying it is,

So he’s just like “here give me your phone” and he sends a dicpic back.

Then gives back the phone and says “alright, they won’t bother you again.”

author’s note: this just screams bestfriend!eddie to me, could eventually turn into friends to lovers but I see it as reader and Eddie being so comfortable in their friendship with each other that it’s not even weird anymore.

cw: 18+ (minors dni) so much dick talk, unsolicited/solicited dick pics, it’s exactly what you think, bestfriend!eddie

word count: under 1k, just a small blurb.

You’d never knock dating apps, it didn’t seem reasonable—not when plenty of great relationships had blossomed from it. Unfortunately though, it just wasn’t for you. And it wasn’t something that was instant, but it didn’t take long for you to realize that you wanted nothing to do with any of it.

“God,” You grimace, scrolling through the notifications on your phone—some simple greeting texts, a few overbearing approaches from possible prospects, but then there were the bold ones; no warning, straight to the point, full dick on your screen as you press on the message notification, “why do guys think it’s cool to send unsolicited dick pics?”

“Do girls even like solicited ones?” Eddie asks in amusement, scrolling through his own phone as he glanced up at you.

You shrug, indifferent on the opinion. You back out of the message quickly, but it doesn’t take longer than a few seconds before another one’s coming in, followed by an even cringier winky face.

“Just block him.” Eddie suggests, shrugging like it was the easiest solve to the problem.

“I have,” You tell him, “I’m pretty sure this is the same guy who’s made three different accounts just to send me a picture of his dick.”

And with that, Eddie shudders in disgust. Things were easier for him, truthfully. He didn’t have to deal with half the bullshit that women did, but if there was any way to ease that annoyance, he was more than happy to help.

“Have you messaged him back at all?” Eddie asks curiously, laying his phone against his chest to turn his full attention to you.

“No, never.” You tell him adamantly. “I don’t know what his deal is.”

“Gimme.” Eddie insists, making a motion with his hands until you relinquish control over your phone.

You hand it over with some hesitance, watching as he scrolled through the unanswered messages, frown growing as he scrolled deeper and deeper. The man, whoever it was, was a creep and it was so painfully obvious. Eddie knew how to solve the problem easily, though he wasn’t sure how you’d handle it.

“Uh, you can look away if you want.” Eddie suggests, pressing on the small camera icon.

“What—why—“ You ask, but before you can realize Eddie has his hands inside the waistband of his pants, lifting them up just far enough to snap a quick picture—his dick was already half-hard and enough to intimidate at even that state. “Eddie, what the fuck?”

He chuckles to himself as he snaps the picture, typing a quick message before he’s pressing send.

You could’ve acted disgusted, but it’s not the first time you’ve see his dick—probably wouldn’t be the last. Eddie and you were fully aware of how not weird the situation was. He’s kind enough to back out, though it’s pointless.

“I don’t think he’ll be bothering you anymore.” He smirks triumphantly, watching as you took the phone back slack jawed. “Hey, you could’ve looked away—don’t look at me like that, sweetheart.”

“My phone saves all the pictures I take on these apps,” You tell him, “so thanks for that—another unsolicited dick pic that I didn’t ask for.”

“Oh fuck,” Eddie laughs, “I’m sorry.”

You shove the phone back into his hands insistently.

“Take care of it.”

Eddie does so quickly, before handing it back over.

“You’ll definitely thank me later.”

Eddie’s confidence was almost irritating at times.

Though, he was right. The messages don’t slow, necessarily, but the certain guy never bothers you again. But, Eddie had started a dangerous game.

You approach him another night with that all too familiar look on your face, nose scrunched up in annoyance as you turn the phone to him.

Eddie sighs exasperatedly, knowing he’s only joking.

“I know you hate dick pics, but you should probably keep one in your gallery for cases like this—some of these aren’t always my best work.”

“The more unappealing the better, Eddie.” You tell him, arms crossed as you wait.

“Hey, no way you just called my dick unappealing.” Eddie frowns, taking the picture regardless. “You wound me.”

“Fine,” You shrug, “send me your best work later and I’ll save it for emergencies.”

Eddie thinks you’re bluffing, but you’re stone-faced expression never falters.

“Oh—okay,” Eddie agrees with a fervent nod, “Got it, boss.”

You smile sweetly, snatching your phone back.

“Love you,” You sing, “don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Eddie laughs wearily, eyes trailing after you as you leave.

And truthfully, it has to be the best dick pic he’s ever taken, smiling as he sends it to you through your messages, leaving you a message that has you giggling to yourself as you read it.

“You never answered my question about the solicited ones, so enjoy.”

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

[sebastiansluts]

Can you please write something about two guys holding your legs wide open whilst Lee breeds you? Thank you ☺️

Lee Bodecker x Reader; breeding kink, vaginal sex, semi-public sex, exhibitionism, light daddy/mommy kink

ANY HATE WILL BE DELETED THIS IS A JUDGEMENT FREE ZONE DON'T LIKE, DON'T INTERACT; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+

"Alright boys, hold her legs up, gimme some room," Lee said to his two deputies, standing on either side of him. You were laying on your back on Lee's desk, everything on it pushed to the side. You still had your top and skirt on, but Lee had pulled your panties off, tucking them in his pocket. His men grabbed your legs, hoisting them up in the air, spread apart wide, your pussy bared to everyone.

"Shit, boss, that's some cunt," one of Lee's men whistled.

"Wait 'til you see it good and stuffed, then it's a sight for sore eyes," Lee said, undoing his belt and slacks, letting them hang off his hips. He moved up, sliding his dick along your pussy, coating it in your wetness.

"Lee, please, hurry up," you begged, squirming on the desk, his deputies tightening their holds on your ankles. Lee slapped his dick against your clit, making you jolt.

"Patience darlin', let us admire your pretty little pussy, 'fore I ruin it," he grinned wickedly, tapping your clit a few more times with his dick. You writhed, trying to chase the sensation and get away from it, not able to do either, held in place by his men.

Lee started pushing his cock into you, your pussy stretching around the tip, then stretching farther around the shaft, his cock thick and heavy. You moaned when he bottomed out, immediately pulling back out and slowly pushing in again, making you keen.

"Fuck, look at you takin' me darlin', this little pussy is full o'me, gonna fill you up even more honey," Lee groaned, hips moving faster as he picked up the pace. His dick was gliding along your spot, your cunt clenching around it.

"Right there, harder, Lee," you moaned, hands tangling in your hair and pulling, needing something since you were unable to move your hips where Lee was holding them tightly to the desk.

He slammed his dick into you, punching the breath out of you, your hands flying down to grip his arms, nails digging in. "Gonna pump you full of my seed darlin', gonna make you round with my babies. You're gonna make me a Daddy, and I'm gonna make you a Mommy," Lee grunted, hips bruising your inner thighs, shaking from being held up so long.

"Please, Lee! Want it, want your cum in me, can I have it?" you pleaded, and Lee swore.

"Fuck! I'll give it to you darlin'." He thrust even harder, one hand bruisingly tight on your hip, the other moving to your clit, rubbing it with his thumb.

"Oh! Oh shit!" you shrieked, trying to pull Lee's hand away as you came, but he kept rubbing your clit, sending you headfirst into a second orgasm. Your pussy became an iron grip on Lee's dick, keeping him deep inside you, forcing him to grind into you.

"That's it honey," he said as you relaxed, pussy still pulsing around him as he started thrusting again. "You lay there now, let me breed you up good and full darlin'."

Lee grunted, hands moving to your thighs, spreading you even farther, his deputies adjusting their holds on your legs. You screeched as he hit a new spot, deeper than before, building that fire back up inside you.

"Yeah, there we go, that's your fucking cervix darlin', I'm gonna paint it white," Lee hissed, head dropping forwards to watch where you two were joined as he came, long and hard. It dripped down his dick, coating it, and he fucked it back into you, burying himself deep and stilling.

"Keep her legs up, we're here for another ten minutes boys, I want this to take."