#walton what are you doing to me

[tina-armani]

[new-world-mutation]

This picture is insane

[meep-meep-richie]

challenge not to ship them; impossible

[manderleyfire]

– What's keeping us apart ain't even real, your daddy, his religion, it's got nothing to do with us. – It's not just his, it's mine too. I've got the same spirit in me, why don't you see that?

Alice Englert and Walton Goggins in Them That Follow (2019), dir. Dan Madison Savage & Brittany Poulton

[winepresswrath]

I'm causally interested in basically all Fallout ship combinations, but I really need Walton Goggins/evil wife. plz make this good for me, show.

[dichromaniac]

Why in the year 2024 of the Gogginsassaince do we not have a single gif of the Justified Season 6 Episode 1 pan shot of the reintroduction of one Boyd Crowder???

[clogginbloggingoggin]

walton goggins as david marlon (csi: crime scene investigation, 2006).

[crumb]

I love all the diy horror stuff being produced online these days but the issue I have with analogue horror, or any type of ARG or indie found footage horror series online, is that as soon as they delve into using actual voice overs or acting 9 times out of 10 I lose any suspension of disbelief because they tend to be amateurish and try hard. I appreciate the hard work that goes into these projects and everyone involved but there also has to be some discernment of "is this coming off goofy and dumb while we're trying to make everything else look super realistic?" I'm unsure if some of the people heading these projects are just getting anyone to do the voice overs, not doing auditions, not properly directing the actors and getting multiple varied takes, etc or what but it's rough to watch. if you're trying to make your horror series seem as real as possible then you need to make sure your VO actors are capable of doing naturalistic readings instead of sounding like 'yandere vampire dd/lg boyfriend ASMR'

[molinaesque]

"You know what inspires me? When there's no one in the house… and I'm all alone to do whatever I want." - Walton Goggins, Mulholland Distilling (2023) (x)

[tina-armani]

I've never thought in my entire life I would be so excited about a Walmart commercial.

[iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid]

in a turn of events that surprises absolutely no one, i watched the gruff but oddly charming killing machine tear through an apocalyptic wasteland for 200+ years, finally confront one of the guys who helped turn the world into an apocalyptic wasteland in the first place, ignore all that, and instead cock a gun at him and say where's my fucking family, and my heart immediately latched onto him like a koala

FALLOUT SHOW MADE BRAIN GO BRRRRRRR

[susiephone]

wtf is dracula daily?

i’ve seen a couple people ask this question on my posts about it, so i thought i’d go ahead and clear it up here!

ok so, the classic horror novel “dracula” is an epistolary novel - that means it’s told via letters, diary entries, ship logs, and news articles. (technically the term “epistolary novel” refers to works told solely through letters or emails, but many have expanded it to mean any work that is told via in-universe documents, hence why diaries and logs often get included as well. “frankenstein” is another classic example; the whole framing device is robert walton is recounting the story he heard from victor to his sister via letter. a modern example would be “several people are typing,” which is told via slack messages, or “the perks of being a wallflower,” which is told via letters from charlie to his anonymous pen pal, which is functionally more like you’re reading his diary.)

because of the nature of the narrative, we actually know the exact day nearly everything in dracula happens - the letters, news articles, diary entries, etc. are all dated.

“dracula daily” is a substack project where the novel is broken up into parts, with people who are subscribed to the project getting emails every day something in dracula happens - for example, the novel opens with jonathan harker’s journal entry on may 3, so on may 3, subscribers are emailed that entry. the action of dracula takes place from may 3 - november 6, plus an epilogue set some years later. the project started in 2021 (i think), but fucking BLEW UP in 2022, and they’re doing it again this year! lots of us are very excited - especially people like me who fell behind last time.

why not just read the book?

valid! due to some parts of dracula being told out of chronological order, dracula daily does reorder some things. for example, the first section of dracula is told entirely from jonathan harker’s pov, then the second section switches the pov to mina murray. their sections have some overlap in the timeline, so dracula daily jumps back and forth between their perspectives.

if you want to read the book as bram stoker intended, dracula daily may not be for you. but for a lot of people (myself included!), it breaks up a very long text into easily digestible chunks (....mostly. there is one entry that is 10k words), and the fact that it’s a big project means there are a lot of people reading along with you.

i think there’s also something valuable about experience the slow revelation of wtf is going on along with the characters. the book which you might otherwise get through in a few days is stretched out into months of suspense and agony as you wait for the other shoe to drop, and it’s great.

plus, the whiplash between “jonathan harker’s neverending horror” vs “lucy is basically on the bachelorette” that you get in dracula daily is very very funny.

how do i sign up?

right here! and if you sign up and fall behind in the emails, no worries - the dracula daily website posts past entries so you can catch up.

what if i prefer audiobooks?

have i got great news for you!

like i mentioned before, i couldn’t keep up with the emails last year. part of it is that it is much easier for me to focus on an audiobook or keep up with a podcast than it is for me to sit down and read, especially with longer entries.

this year, there is going to be a podcast titled “re: dracula” that was inspired by dracula daily. every episode will be a dracula daily entry, with a full voice cast! (seriously, if you listen to british podcasts, you will recognize some of these names. the magnus archives and wooden overcoats girlies are WINNING.) you can find that here.

there is also a podcast called “cryptic canticles” that has an already-completed audiodrama of dracula that i’m told is also extremely good, and was also broken up by date. you can find that here.

why do i keep hearing about paprika/the boyfriend squad/lizard fashion/cowboys?

you’ll see.

oh god am i gonna hear about this nerd shit for the rest of the year

yes. sorry.

[nikidontsurf]

GEORGE HARRISON and PATTIE BOYD leave Kinfauns to go to the Walton and Esher Magistrates Court, March 18, 1969.

  She was at Kinfauns, their bungalow home in Esher, Surrey, playing genial hostess to a group of visitors from Scotland Yard’s drug squad. She recalled the events in her memoir Wonderful Tonight: ‘Suddenly I heard a lot of cars on the gravel in the drive – far too many for it to be just George. My first thought was that maybe Paul and Linda wanted to party after the wedding. Then the bell rang. I opened the door to find a policewoman and a dog standing outside. At that moment the back-doorbell rang and I thought, Oh, my God, this is so scary! I’m surrounded by police.

The man in charge introduced himself as Detective Sergeant Pilcher, from Scotland Yard, and handed me a piece of paper. I knew why he was there: he thought we had drugs, and he said he was going to search the house. In they came, about eight policemen through the front, another five or six through the back and there were more in the greenhouse. The policewoman said she would follow me while the others searched and didn’t let me out of her sight. I said, ‘Why are you doing this? We don’t have any drugs. I’m going to phone my husband.’ I rang George at Apple. ‘George, it’s your worst nightmare. Come home.’

The officers clearly thought the Harrisons would be at Paul’s wedding. The timing was not a coincidence. (...) Pilcher had already busted Mick Jagger, Brian Jones and Donovan, as well as Lennon and Yoko the previous year. National treasures or not, The Beatles were no longer protected from the law. - ‘And in the End: The Last Days of The Beatles’ Ken McNab

  I was with George in the office when that call came through. It was the end of a long day at Apple. Pattie rang and said, ‘They’re here – the law is here,’ and we knew what to do by then. We phoned Release’s lawyer, Martin Polden. We had a routine: he came round to Apple, and we all went down by limousine to Esher, where the police were well ensconced by then – and I stood bail for George and Pattie. They went off to the police station. We were all extremely indignant because it was the day of Paul’s wedding, a poor way to celebrate it. The police can be so nice.

George was calm about it. George is always calm – he sometimes gets a grump, but he’s always calm – and he was extremely calm that night, and very, very indignant. He went into the house and looked around at all these men and one woman, and said something like. ‘Birds have nests and animals have holes, but man has nowhere to lay his head.’ – ‘Oh, really, sir? Sorry to tell you we have to…’ and then into the police routine.

That’s how calm and how cross he was, because, as he said, he kept his dope in the box where dope went, and his joss sticks went in the joss stick box. He was a man who ran an orderly late-Sixties household, with beautiful things and some nice stuff to smoke.

 In my opinion he didn’t have to be busted because he was doing nobody any harm. I still believe what they did was an intrusion into personal life. - Derek Taylor in ‘The Beatles Anthology’

[mewlancholy]

4t2 Miiko - White Rabbit Cardian

Today I have another project for you. :D I think out of all the ones I've done so far, this was the 'easiest'—probably because I kind of knew what I was doing this time. I hope you have fun with it. :) If there's anything wrong with it, let me know. I'll try to fix it. :D

4t2 Miiko - White Rabbit Cardigan  [Original]

Age: Teen | Adult | Elder Category: Everyday | Outerwear

Includes all morphs

16 colors

Swatches:

I hope you like it :)

Download

Credit: @miikocc

Strangetown-Models:

Aayala Walton, Veda Anderson, Madeleine Beaker

[rogersandclarke]

mutual 1: see the thing about obi wan is that even if he could get pregnant he would do a force-abortion on himself because he believes that strongly in adoption

mutual 2: do you think matt damon was seething and coping when j-lo dropped "dear ben" or do you think matt and ben were still hooking up at this time? essentially if the album dropped in 2002, the bennifer engagement is nov 2002-january 2004, and matt gets married in 2005,

mutual 3: my ebay bidding war for paul reubens's spit in a jar is going really well due to the psychic attacks i've been sending to the other bidder

mutual 4: local authorities wont let me into this abandoned hoarder house in rural wyoming. dies horribly. #i love drunk driving

mutual 5: listen ive studied rpf for years you dont understand. the homoerotic undercurrent of britpop is a different breed than what george and bob had going on. theres a playful aura facilitated by the early 90s

mutual 6: i am going to pound philip seymour hoffman into the ground so lovingly

mutual 7: im doing crazy things to davy jones pussy over here

mutual 8: thinking of writing my thesis on the evolution of rpf #no don't look at my lb diary yes i watched 10 martin & lewis movies this week

mutual 9: you see robbie and bob were having on and off trysts ever since robbie stopped him from killing himself in 1966 but it took martin scorseses tender devotion to show robbie how unhealthy that was

mutual 10: thankfully neil young started estrogen in early 1970. otherwise she never couldve made harvest

mutual 11: how minutes of semi-truck sound effects do you guys think i can play on my radio show before people start tuning away

mutual 12: put this post underwater sorry. but i just feel so angry when people post about their mutuals like they're people they never talk to. i've moved to different countries three times for my mutuals.

mutual 13: [picture of orson welles and anthony perkins laughing on the set of the trial] do you think they ever fucked #hot! #who said that

mutual 14: i think i could fix norman bates if we got married and adopted the eraserhead baby together.

mutual 15: [picture of a computer fucking itself]

mutual 16: m sooooo girl drink drunk daveeeeee

mutual 17: eroticism of the machine? uhhh yeah only if the machine is a sexy car #STOP PUTTING THOSE COMPUTER PICTURES ON MY DASH

mutual 18: my warriors in maine are one step closer to slipping cocaine back into stephen kings food so he can be a good writer again

mutual 19: you don't understand. walton goggins isn't just gay in the show. he also walks gay in real life. you have to understand this.

mutual 20: im going to kidnap mike stoklasa and only release him when he makes a post coming out as bisexual

EDIT: ETHAN LET ME POST THIS: mutual 21: do you think lana del rey and joan baez are hooking up. why is lana with her everywhere and introducing her documentary and doing all these things. we KNOW joan is bisexual. do you think

[ghoulsbounty]

needd lee russell being edged, whimpering and begging all that good stuff !! i love your writing sm, you do all the walton boys so much justice 😭💕

The Edge

Lee Russell x Fem!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+), office sex, oral (f receiving), pussy job, thigh riding, sub/dom dynamic, soft!dom reader, power dynamics/power play, brat taming (kinda), all porn little plot, nipple play, bratty lee, multiple orgasms, cum eating, manipulation, begging, fluff.

Word Count: 5.1K

A/N: Anon! Lee Russell whining and begging to cum is seared into my brain forever now. Thank you sm for your lovely words about my writing of the Goggins gang🥲 I hope you enjoy! I’d love to know what you all think to this, and feel free to send me more requests 💌

Lee rolled his eyes, leaning his head back against his office chair as you continued to grind down onto his muscular thigh. His expression was almost bored, feigning indifference to your ministrations. However, you occasionally felt him shift under you, seeking friction for his painfully hard cock that you had left unfairly untouched inside his slacks.

Your movements were deliberate and slow, savouring the way his thigh flexed beneath you. The heat between your legs intensified with every grind, the rough texture of his pants adding to the sensation that made your breath hitch. Despite his bored appearance, his hands gripped the armrests tightly, knuckles white from the effort of staying still.

You could see the conflict in his eyes, a dark storm of lust and frustration. He fought to maintain his composure, and it thrilled you to know just how close he was to breaking. Every muscle in his body was taut with tension, his veins bulging and the strain evident. The room filled with the sound of your ragged breaths and the quiet creak of the chair, the air thick with unspoken need.

“You think you can just tease me like this?” he muttered, his annoyance clear in the tightness of his voice. Even though you were tired, the intensity in your gaze challenged him to meet you on your terms. With feigned reluctance, he gripped your hips and guided your movements, each one growing more urgent as you rode him.

His lips pursed in dissatisfaction, teeth gritted as you trembled around him. His gaze, dark with lust, followed your every movement, drinking in the sight of you. Each drag of your heat across his thigh brought a fresh wave of pleasure, mingling with the remnants of your previous climax.

Goosebumps prickled your naked flesh as you rode him with abandon, undeterred by the prospect of a colleague walking in on you so late past the last bell. Ever since your class had ended, you had been pleasuring yourself on his thigh, anger from an earlier spat still simmering within you as you sulked into his office. The lingering resentment fuelled your movements, the depth of your need overshadowing any thoughts of forgiveness.

But resentment didn’t mean you weren’t ready to take what you needed. The heat between you was almost unbearable, the tension from your unresolved conflict only adding to the vigor of your movements.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you replied coyly, feeling his muscles tighten and retract beneath your touch. A smile spread across your face as his fingers tapped impatiently at your hip.

Despite his apparent nonchalance, you could feel the evidence of his arousal, his cock straining against the fabric of his pants, desperate for attention. Every shift of his hips, every slight adjustment, betrayed his need. His eyes, though half-closed and rolling in exaggerated boredom, couldn’t hide the smouldering desire within them. The game you were playing was a dangerous one, but the thrill of it was intoxicating.

You leaned in closer, your breath hot near his ear as you murmured, “Are you sure you’re not enjoying this?”

His eyes bore into yours, impatient and intense, as he dug his nails into your hips, the pain intertwining with pleasure. You smiled, running your hands over his chest, the soft fabric of his shirt contrasting with the hard, sinewy muscle beneath. His impatience only fuelled your hunger, the mix of sensations heightening your awareness of every touch.

“You like this, don’t you?” you teased, your voice a low whisper, your lips grazing his ear. His breath hitching in response was all the confirmation you needed. You leaned back slightly, savouring the friction, the way his cock strained against your leg, craving release.

Despite him concealing it effectively for the longest time, you discovered Lee’s enjoyment of being taunted and denied after an office romp was interrupted. The memory of that moment still sent shivers down your spine. Later, he sought you out, his eyes dark with unfulfilled desire, moaning about how difficult it had been not to touch himself before getting his hands on you. The timbre of his voice was thick with longing, every word a testament to his struggle. A barely audible plea slipped from his lips, begging to feel you.

He had never sounded so desperate before, and it drove you wild. Something primal ignited within you from the raw need in his voice and the way his body trembled with restraint. It was exhilarating, the power you had over him, the ability to reduce him to a state of pleading desperation like he did with you. It was a revelation, a crack in his façade that you eagerly explored, knowing that beneath his rough exterior lay a vulnerability that only you could coax to the surface.

“I apologised, didn’t I? You always blow tiny, insignificant things out of proportion,” he said, his voice dripping with venom.

“Hardly,” you countered, your lingering anger fuelled by his blasé attitude. “And for the record, I haven’t forgiven you yet,” you added firmly.

“Then why are you riding my thigh like a bitch in heat?” he laughed cruelly, watching you maintain your unfaltering rhythm against him. His eyes gleamed with amusement, his mocking tone only spurring you on.

“For my enjoyment,” you shot back, breathless but defiant. “Plus, I think you like it when I use you.”

The challenge in your tone was unmistakable, daring him to deny the pleasure coursing through him as you came on his thigh again and again. Each movement, each grind against him, furthered the power struggle between you and the stimulating connection you both craved.

You trailed your fingers down his torso until they reached the bulge pressing hard against your leg. Teasingly, you hovered your hand over his arousal, revelling in the sharp intake of breath he made, before finally resting it on his knee behind you. Using it for leverage, you fucked yourself against him harder, bringing yourself close to the edge again.

“What do you want, Lee?” You asked, amusement lacing your inflection at the flicker of disappointment that crossed his face.

“You know what I want,” he growled, his voice low and filled with despair as his eyes dropped to the apex of your thighs.

“Let me hear you say it,” you said, squeezing his knee. “Tell me exactly what you want.”

His jaw clenched as he drank in the sight of your pussy gliding over him. The fabric of his pants was dark with your juices, the skin beneath damp and warm. “I want to feel you,” he finally admitted, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Wanna fuck you until you can’t take anymore.”

“If you ask nicely,” you purred, your hand tracing back to the bulge in his pants, teasing him with a tantalizing amount of pressure that caused him to groan.

“Just let me fuck you, and let’s go home,” he demanded, rough but desperate.

You could see the raw need etched across his face, his control hanging by a thread. Seeing him so close to breaking only solidified your resolve to get what you wanted.

“Don’t be in such a hurry,” you tutted softly as you continued to grind against him, savouring the friction. A breathy whimper escaped his lips when you dropped your hand from his straining erection. His fingers left your hip to wrap around your wrist as he glared up at you.

His grip was firm, his irritation clear in the way it tightened around you. “You’re torturing me,” he growled, eyes blazing with a blend of fury and hunger.

You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “don’t you think you deserve it?” Your hips continued to move in a slow, deliberate rhythm, the pressure building with each tantalizing grind.

His hand on your hip slipped around your back and pressed you tightly to his chest. Your breasts were firm against him, nipples hard against the cotton of his shirt. He looked up at you through long lashes, his hardened stare softening as he placed a tentative kiss on your chin. “Didn’t mean to upset you,” he mumbled, his voice low and sincere.

You could feel his breath against your skin, warm and slightly ragged. The vulnerability in his eyes tugged at something deep inside you, momentarily easing the tension. His hand on your wrist relaxed, sliding up to gently cup your face, thumb brushing your cheek with a tenderness that he rarely showed.

“I’m not upset,” you said, your jaw set and brows furrowed. “I’m angry,” you clarified, the ferocity in your voice matching the hard lines of your expression as you mentally fought against his change in demeanour.

He peppered light kisses from your chin to your lips, his touch gentle yet insistent. “Didn’t mean to make you mad, either,” he murmured softly against your skin. His tongue traced your bottom lip with intentional slowness, a subtle plea for forgiveness as he patiently waited for you to grant him entrance.

With a sigh, you parted your lips to allow him access. His muscle slipped inside, exploring with a slow, deliberate warmth that made your heart race. You could feel the sincerity in his actions, the way his lips moved tenderly against yours, each kiss an unspoken apology. He released your wrist, his hands roaming your body with a newfound reverence, his gentle persistence wearing down the edges of your anger.

Your fingertips intertwined at the back of his neck, drawing him nearer as you briefly surrendered to the moment. His touch was everywhere, a soothing balm to your frayed nerves, each caress a promise of his intent to make things right. His kisses grew more urgent, more demanding, as he sensed your resolve weakening.

You broke the kiss before  you gave in any further. “Show me how sorry you are,” you commanded, your voice a low whisper. The undeniable authority in your tone was clear, and you saw the flicker of devotion and submission in his eyes. You had him right where you wanted.

His gaze never wavered, a mix of determination and need burning in his expression. He nodded, his focus entirely on you. “Yes, ma’am,” he murmured, his voice a hushed promise as he fumbled with the zip of his pants. To his chagrin, you quickly swatted it away.

“Not like that,” you ordered, eyeing him sternly as your fingers entwined around his tie. You gave it a gentle tug, delighting in the flicker of alarm on his face as it tightened slightly against his throat.

The authority in your gaze held him captive, and you could see his appetite intensify as he complied with your unspoken command. His hand reluctantly found your hip again, the grip firm but reverent as he waited for your next move.

“Show me how sorry you are,” you repeated.

“Well? What do you want me to do?” he huffed, impatience and resentment evident in his tone as he dropped his head back against the headrest again.

You maintained your hold on his tie, leaning in closer until your lips were just inches from his ear. “I want you to beg,” you said, your voice low and commanding. “Take what I give you, no more, no less.” You planted a soft kiss on his earlobe, feeling him shiver beneath you. “I want you to be grateful.”

He studied you for a moment, his gaze flicking to your grip on his tie as he swallowed hard against the restriction. He responded with a dark chuckle, but his eyes showed his insatiable appetite at the prospect of you taking charge. “You want to play? Fine. But don’t forget who’s really in control,” he growled, the underlying challenge clear in his voice.

A sly smile played on your lips as you tightened your grip slightly, feeling the tension between you heighten. “We’ll see about that,” you replied, authoritative and mocking.

With a swift, practiced motion, you unzipped his fly and released him from the confines of his slacks. His hard cock sprang free, curving against his abdomen, the red, shiny tip glistening with pre-cum. Lee’s eyes darkened with anticipation, a lazy grin spreading across his face as he watched your every move.

You savoured the moment, letting the power you held over him wash over you. His breath hitched as you wrapped your hand around his shaft, the heat and firmness of him palpable against your palm. The lingering defiance in his expression only spurred you on.

His eyes never left yours, following every movement with rapt attention. Your thumb swirled over his tip, spreading the pre-cum over his length as you pumped him. You could feel his body tense beneath your touch, each stroke drawing a low groan from his lips.

Lee hissed through his teeth, hypersensitive to your caress after being denied for so long and forced to watch you cum repeatedly on his leg with no release for himself. You revelled in the sight of his face contorting in pleasure, his mouth falling open as he panted. The raw magnitude of his need made each of your touches electric, heightening your own arousal as you watched him teeter on the edge. The power you wielded over him, the ability to elicit such a reaction, was intoxicating, and you savoured every second of his torment and longing.

Slowly, you leaned in. “You like that?” you asked, your voice dripping with seduction. He answered with a barely audible moan, his hips bucking in response to your touch.

You manoeuvred yourself on his lap, straddling his waist as you settled your ass against his thighs. His length nestled snugly between your wet folds and his abdomen, the material of his shirt already damp from the slick of your arousal and his pre-cum. His eyes fluttered shut at the warmth of you, a deep groan escaping his lips.

With your bottom lip between your teeth, you fought to contain the moans that were on the verge of escaping. You didn’t want him to know how amazing it felt as your swollen clit grazed against the thick veins of his shaft. Your nails bit into his shoulders for leverage as you languidly stroked him back and forth with your pussy.

His grip tightened, fingers digging into your flesh as he tentatively dragged you across him. You could see the desperate longing in his expression, the way he ached to bury himself fully inside you. Every time he moved you over him, the tip of his cock kissed your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through you. The intensity of it all hurtled you toward the edge, and you threw your head back, overwhelmed by the sensation.

As you bit your lip to muffle your cry, your orgasm crashed over you. Your muscles tightened as you bucked your hips, determined to extract every ounce of enjoyment from him. The waves of ecstasy rippled through your body, each movement drawing out the toe-curling ferocity as you rode the crest of your release.

Lee cursed at the feeling of you gushing over his cock, using your temporary mind shift to push at your entrance with his tip. The pressure brought you back to the moment, breath heavy as you shook your head, readjusted so that you were gliding over him again.

“Can’t even say my name when I make you cum?” he huffed, irritation mounting with each time you reached your peak in silence. It was the least he deserved, he reasoned, for letting you deny him in so many other ways.

“I made myself cum,” you said, a teasing smirk tugging at your lips. He shot you a piercing look, jaw tight as his nostrils flared. “Calling my name would be a little odd,” you joked, breath heavy as you set a leisurely rhythm with your hips.

His eyes darkened, silently demanding the acknowledgement he craved as he watched you, every movement a deliberate tease. “Fuck you,” he muttered, though the flicker of admiration in his gaze was unmistakable.

You were growing tired, spent from riding him for so long previously, but you weren’t about to give in. Each grind was slower now, more teasing, as you savoured the sensation of his cock twitching beneath you. You were resolved to keep control, to extend every bit of the pleasure that he owed.

The sight of Lee looking so on edge, so dishevelled, his cheeks flushed a rosy red and sweat beading his forehead, had you grinning. He narrowed his eyes in concentration, briefly flicking them to yours. Then, with a defiant thrust of his hips, he timed it perfectly to catch himself against the ridge of your cunt, seeking the pressure he craved to reach his peak. Pissed off and well past the point of playing your game, his movements became more urgent, determined to find release despite your teasing.

His jaw clenched, each thrust becoming more forceful as he battled against the frustration bubbling inside him. The room was flooded with the sounds of your bodies moving together, a symphony of your multiple releases coating him, and the deep grunts of pleasure rising from his chest. You could see the determination in his eyes, the way his muscles tensed with every push, his distress to reach his climax clear in the urgency of his movements.

“Just... let me cum,” he gasped, his voice a mix of anger and pleading. His hands gripped your hips with bruising force, guiding you over him with a renewed vigour. The friction, the heat, the sheer need in his movements sent tingles of ecstasy through you.

You felt his muscles stiffen beneath you, heard his breath hitch, and knew he was close. Just seconds before his impending release, you lifted off him, your cunt suddenly cold against the air without him nestled inside. He whined in defeat, looking up at you in disbelief, his eyes wide with surprise. The sudden loss of contact left him trembling, his need for you palpable as he struggled to comprehend the abrupt interruption.

“Do you deserve it?” You asked, your voice exuding seductive authority, breath warm against his ear, enjoying the way his body shivered in response.

You could see the internal conflict in his eyes, dominance warring with submission, as he reluctantly replied, “No.” He leaned forward, hesitantly reaching for you, and a small smile flickered across his face when you didn’t move away. You allowed him to pull you back, guiding you to straddle him once more.

He sighed at the warmth as you settled against his cock, the tension in his body easing slightly. His arms snaked around your waist, holding you close as he awaited your next move. The intimacy of the moment, the blend of power and vulnerability, sent a shiver through you.

You could feel his heartbeat against your chest, the rapid thud mirroring your own excitement. “You know what I want,” you whispered, your voice firm yet tender, brushing your lips against his.

He groaned in reluctance, then dipped his head to catch a hardened nipple with his teeth. His wet tongue circled the bud before sucking, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. Your body involuntarily arched into him, seeking more.

His hands roamed your back, holding you securely as he continued his ministrations. Each flick of his tongue and soft bite of his teeth drove you wild, the sensations building an irresistible pressure inside you. The soft moans escaping your lips only spurred him on, his own desire clear in the way his cock throbbed against your wet heat.

You grabbed the back of his head, pressing him closer to your breast, craving more of his touch. “Lee,” you breathed, your voice a husky whisper of need. “Say it.”

He responded with a low growl; the vibration adding another layer of pleasure. His other hand moved to your neglected breast, his fingers pinching and rolling your nipple, perfectly complementing the sensations from his mouth.

A moment later, he left you, trailing wet kisses up your chest and throat until he reached your lips. He captured them in a fierce kiss, his tongue delving deep, claiming you with a passion that left you breathless.

“Just give it to me, baby,” he breathed against your mouth. Your fingers found their grip in his hair again as you tugged him back to look at you, the tension in the air crackling between you.

The pet name was a deliberate choice, one he used sparingly, either in rare moments of genuine praise or as a sure-fire way to get what he wanted. The combination of his tone and the intimate nickname pulled at your resolve, the manipulation in his voice blending seamlessly with his anguish.

“Is that how you ask nicely?” You said with a mocking pout on your lips.

“That’s how I’m fuckin’ askin’,” he replied, hissing through his teeth when your fingers tightened in frosted tips. His mouth gleamed with spit and his eyes blazed with defiance. You were determined to quench that fire, deliberately sliding your cunt over his pulsating shaft.

“You sure there’s nothing else you wanted to say, Lee?” you teased, your voice dripping with playful menace. He shook his head, muscles tensing and breath caught as you moved in agonizing slowness. He was so close to giving in, his defiance betrayed by the pleading flicker in his eyes.

“That’s a shame,” you sighed, releasing your fingers from his hair as you shifted to lift yourself again, leaving him aching and regretful. His expression shifted to one of despair as the reality of your actions sank in, the loss of your warmth making him shudder. You hovered just above him, the heat of your cunt a tantalizing tease, waiting for him to break.

But losing contact was too much for him, and a deep growl gave way to a pathetic whimper as he scrambled to stop you. “Stop,” he pleaded, his arms tightening around you, holding you close. His chin rested on the swell of your breast as he looked up, his gaze filled with desperate longing.

You eyed him expectantly, waiting for more.

When he realized you would not give in to his manipulations, he sighed deeply before sucking his teeth. “Please,” he mumbled, barely audible, impatience and insincerity dripping from his tone. His eyes flickered with frustration, but beneath it, you could see the genuine desperation breaking through, the raw need he could no longer mask.

The power shifted subtly back to you, your control over the moment reaffirmed. You watched as his defiance wavered, the façade of power slipping away to reveal the true depth of his craving. He was at your mercy, and the realization brought a thrill of satisfaction.

“I didn’t hear you,” you lied, cold and teasing.

“Fuck, please! Let me fuck you, baby,” he whined, the petulance clear in his tone. “Just need to be inside you, please.” His voice was frantic, the raw need in his plea evident as he clung to you, every inch of his body straining towards yours as he licked and sucked at your clavicle.

His words were like music to your ears, a sweet tune that you’d composed from his defiant lips. “Maybe,” you smiled, cupping his cheek as you grazed a thumb over the shadow of stubble on his jaw. “If you beg a little more.”

“Please,” he grunted, hand slipping between your bodies to run a finger through the expanse of your slit, gathering the sopping wetness before circling your swollen clit. You moaned softly, guiding his mouth to yours for a kiss. “You know I’m sorry,” he whispered against your lips, breath warm as you nibbled his bottom lip.

You felt tempted to deny him further, to see how long he could go without release while you continued to use his body for your own satisfaction. But your thighs burned, your pelvis ached from the ministrations, and his fingers dancing over you had you craving more of him.

“Making me feel so good. You’re being a good boy, Lee,” you praised, amusement lacing your voice. His eyes gleamed with longing, the praise only intensifying his need. He sighed against your skin as he rested into the curve of your neck, vibrating through you as his fingers continued their gentle, teasing circles around your clit.

You could feel him trembling with restraint, every fibre of his being focused on your approval. Sliding your own hand between you both, you grasped his thick cock, hard and wet from your juices, pulsing against your palm as you stroked it firmly. He let out a pitiful cry as you worked him.

“I’m not gonna last,” he whined, teeth grazing your skin as his fingers on you faltered with the overwhelming pleasure engulfing him. “Let me fuck you, please,” he drew back, looking at you with pleading eyes, face warm.

Wordlessly, you shifted your hips, aligning yourself perfectly over his throbbing shaft as you held him at your entrance. His eyes widened with a mix of relief and renewed yearning. He took your nipple into his mouth again, a delicious whine escaping his lips as you slowly pushed the engorged tip of his cock inside.

With your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him to you, you exhaled slowly before lowering yourself onto him. You felt every inch stretch and fill you as you buried him to the hilt, the sensation exquisite—a perfect blend of fullness and resistance that made your breath catch. The heat of your bodies melded together, each movement drawing pathetic whimpers from him. The intense pressure and friction caused tingles down your spine, nerve endings alive with pleasure.

Your movements became more urgent as his nimble fingers found your sensitive clit again, each grind pushing you further to the edge. The friction of his cock against your inner walls, combined with his hips bucking to meet your every move, was rousing. 

His hands skilfully manipulated your clit while his tongue flicked over the hardened bud of your nipple, driving you wild with pleasure. Your fingers gripped and pulled at his hair, delivering the small tinges of pain you knew he craved. The synergy of sensations was overwhelming, each touch, each thrust, each drag of him sending you spiralling closer to release.

Moans, gasps, and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin filled the room, the air thick with the scent of sweat and sex. He released your bud with a pop of his lips. His eyes locked onto yours, a mix of adoration and raw, unfiltered need. You rode him with everything you had.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he sighed, his voice a desperate whisper as he clung to you. Your bodies moved in perfect harmony, the connection between you deepening with every thrust, every shared breath.

“Are you gonna cum, Lee?” You asked, fingers releasing from his hair to cradle his face.

“Yes,” he panted, and you smiled against his skin, placing a gentle kiss above his brow. His body shook, nearing release again, and you stilled your hips, forcing yourself upwards until he slipped out of you.

“Fuck!” he shouted, eyes wide and pleading as his chest heaved. He’d been so close, and as you looked down, you saw his angry, red cock throbbing beneath you.

“No more, please,” he whined, fingers of one hand still working your clit and the other digging into the flesh of your hips, willing you to sit. He looked up at you, eyes glistening with discomfort. “Please, I need to cum,” he begged, voice thick with need. “Baby, I’m sorry. Please.”

The sight of him, so vulnerable and pleading, sent a thrill through you. The raw emotion in his voice, the genuine apology and longing, tugged at your resolve. “Alright,” you murmured softly as you brushed a thumb over his lightly stubbled jaw. 

You guided him back to your entrance, the heat and slickness enveloping him once more. He gripped you, leaving pleading kisses against your throat, his groans vibrating through you as he bottomed out. You moved together, the rhythm quickly becoming frantic as both of you chased the edge of release.

“Come on, Lee,” you whispered, your voice a breathy encouragement. “Give it to me. I want it.”

His response was immediate, hips snapping up to meet yours with renewed vigour as desperate pleas fell from his lips. “Fuck, I’m cumming, I’m... oh, fuck,” he whimpered, the tension that had been building between you finally breaking. You felt him pulse inside you, and then, with a strangled cry, he came in hot spurts of milky white, filling you to the brim. His body trembled beneath you, every shudder and gasp evidence of the intensity of his release.

The sensation of his warmth spreading within you, combined with the pitiful sounds of his sobs as you clenched around him, sent you hurtling towards the edge. Your climax washed over you with a force that left your legs shaking, nerve endings alight with pleasure.

“T-thank you,” he mumbled, lips crashing onto yours in a sloppy, appreciative kiss as he continued to rut into you, getting every bit of satisfaction from you he could. You moaned into his mouth, your mind reeling from his gratitude for finally giving him release.

Lee’s hands continued to roam your body, gentle and grateful, as you both rode out the aftershocks together. With a ragged breath, you fell against him, tired and aching as you found comfort in his embrace. His head fell back against the chair, gaze fixed on the ceiling as he fought for his breath to slow.

“Have you forgiven me now?” He whispered, smiling devilishly against your hair, tracing patterns over the expanse of your back.

“Almost,” you replied, lifting yourself from him slowly with a shared groan, your cunt contracting as you stood and braced yourself against the desk. You placed your feet on the arms of his chair, spreading your legs wide.

Lee eyed your swollen pussy, wet and messy from your many orgasms, his load dripping down your ass and pooling on the desk below you. He licked his lips, eyes glazed over as the fucked-out state of you spread before him held him captive.

“Clean me up, Lee,” you instructed, and he didn’t hesitate. His hands gripped your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the desk as he dove into your sopping heat. Your nails dug into the skin of his arms as you grasped at him, his tongue lapping over you with fervent passion. A lewd slurping sound filled the air as he devoured every drop of your mixed releases, his mouth working tirelessly to give you what you desired.

You leaned back against the desk, enjoying the sensation of him between your legs and the satisfaction of having him under your control, even if only briefly. He would soon return to his familiar brash self, but the anticipation of his hidden submissive side excited you for the next opportunity to bring it out. Until then, you would savour the ecstasy found in his usual rough handling and sharp words of degradation that consistently left you spellbound.

Eyes fluttering shut, you surrendered to the pleasure of his tongue. With fervent devotion, he moved, drawing you into bliss with each lick and suck. The room filled with the sounds of your cries as you finally called his name, his grateful murmurs of thanks against your skin following soon after.

Lee taglist: @its-in-the-woods @lolaalee @megangovier @coolranchdavidian @justme12200

@ivyinthesun @ladygreylavender11 @crowley--aziraphale @its-a-show-stoppin-number

@muschimuschi @serrantsaloto @catclaw1 @staarboyyy @shinydixon

@spookysquids @inthemercifuldark @itsyellow @caspersshadow @honey-tree-evil-eye