#ya got your soft brushes ya got ya hard brushes you can fuck around with opacity and min width. you can get lotta mileage out of it

[fate-defiant]

Doodled this in aggie.io to try it out. Would anyone be interested in doing a drawing collab sorta thingy sometime?

[shotmrmiller]

retired pornstar!Ghost who can't seem to ever keep his hands to himself whenever you're around, even when about to film.

f!reader, 18+ smut. unedited.

If you're standing at a table making coffee, he'll sneak up from behind and wrap his arms around you, his chin resting on the crown of your head.

Hi, Ghost.

G'mornin', love.

If you're walking out of Price's office with a script in hand, he's by your side in mere moments, throwing an arm over your shoulder.

"New script?"

"You should know, you're my co-star. Again."

"Lucky me, pet."

He's leading you toward his office, perches you on his desk and cups his hand over your core.

"Gonna let me eat this pretty pussy?"

"I dunno, Ghost. Gonna fuck me here too?" you smirk at him.

"Whatever you want from me," he breathes.

You stumble out hours later with swollen lips, love bites mottled over your neck and collarbone, and his warm spend trickling down your legs because Ghost pocketed your knickers.

The day of, he's texting you if you'd like a ride to the studio.

Sure thing. Get me in 15.

Yes ma'am.

He doesn't ask for your address, and you don't question why he knows where you live either. Ghost, forever the gentleman, opens the passenger door for you, and gently helps you get in. The entire drive over, his hand rested on your bare thigh, his small finger occasionally grazing your clothed cunt. By the time you arrive, your knickers are damp with your arousal.

"Somethin' wrong, love?"

You snort at his feigned innocence. "Cute. Is mercilessly teasing me fun to you?"

"Sorry 'bout tha.'" Ghost doesn't sound all that apologetic.

He brings you in tight, wrapping his arm around you firmly.

"Lemme make it up t'you in my dressin' room", he purrs.

You click your tongue. "Price'll have your head if he catches me in there, especially when we're about to make a vid."

"Be sure to keep quiet, then. Would absolutely hate to get caught."

With his smart fingers and expert tongue, you're brought to peak 3 times.

Price rolls his eyes when he spots you both walking in at the same time 15 minutes before the shoot.

"Always cheek by jowl, eh Simon?"

His piercing eyes cut to Price's. "Not a crime, last I checked."

Price lifts his hands up, palms outward in mock surrender. "Easy, Ghost. Only teasin'." He turns away, gesturing the crew to get in their places.

Ghost taps your chin with his pointer finger, drawing your attention. "Showtime, baby."

The wolfish grin on your face mirrors his.

"Showtime," you echo.

Ghost turns sex into art. He moves with discipline; every languid roll of his hips deliberate. Like a skilled painter, he transformed you into a living masterpiece, using each drag of his cock as a brush stroke on the canvas of your very being.

It's otherworldly.

He watches your face intently as he changes the angle, bites his bottom lip when he changes the pace, grunting into your ear as your walls begin to flutter— the telltale sign of 'his favorite part', as he loves to say.

"Gonna come f'me? Lemme hear that sweet, little voice of yours, pet." Almost as if following his command, you're digging your nails into his biceps, and closing your eyes in bliss as you climax. A loud, drawn-out moan escapes your lips as your cunt rhythmically pulses around Ghost's heavy length. Your soft thighs quiver around his broad waist as he works you through the aftershocks with slow, firm thrusts.

"Look at tha'. Came when I told ya to, like a good girl." Your mind is blank from your orgasm, tongue too heavy and thick in your mouth for you to even try to articulate a response.

"Creamed all over my cock, can ya hear it?" Hard not to when the wet sounds of your pussy squelching every time he bottoms out fills the room.

"You're so fuckin' tight. Cunt's squeezin' me like it doesn't want me to pull out."

His filthy words send a jolt straight to your throbbing core. "Felt tha'. What, you got a breedin' kink?"

Another jolt, so sharp it almost hurts.

"Want me to fill ya with my come? Is tha' it?" His husky voice dripping with desire. With want.

yes. yesyesyessss—

"Tell me you want me. Fuck, tell me you want me to come in you." The words fall from your spit-slick lips like a faucet.

"Come in me, oh my god, come in me. Fill my pussy up."

His thrusts lose some of their rhythm, but still not sloppy enough like when he's on the very brink.

Ghost's jaw in clenched, as if digging his heels in to hold off his climax. Well, that's simply unacceptable.

Your fingers tangle into his hair, giving him a slight tug to have his lips hover over yours.

"I want you come in me, Simon."

The change is instantaneous. His eyes widen a fraction before stealing your very breath with a searing kiss and fucks you. He puts his weight behind each snap of his hips. The tip of his cock pressing into the plug of your womb, making your eyes prickle with tears.

It's too much, he's too much, you think you've gone and bitten off more than you can chew with him when he mercifully stills with a groan you swallow— cock twitching as it pains your insides white.

He breaks away, gasping for air, sweat that beaded on his forehead dripping onto your heated skin.

Cut.

DaVinci and his muse.

Later, when he threads his fingers into your damp hair, you ask him why he doesn't record with others.

"'Cause I don't want to."

Oh?

"Besides, you and I have fantastic chemistry, dont'cha think?" He tugs on a lock of hair. "The fans love seeing us together, just as much as I love seeing my cock disappear into your sweet pussy."

He chuckles when he takes in your flustered expression. "Don't ask questions you aren't prepared to hear, then."

[bbystark]

♡ soap's little plan ♡

abo!141 x omega!reader

♡ masterlist ♡ request more! ♡

summary: despite having a pack of his own, soap finds himself wanting more. he's grown tired of being the only Omega with 2 unruly Alphas. good thing you showed up, now he can flush those pesky little suppressants and make you theirs.

⚠︎ suggestive themes, soap being a little obsessed, invasions of privacy

a/n: series??? idk where this came from but enjoy

Soap wasn’t an unhappy man. He was talented, knew just how dangerous he was in the field, how many brushes with death he’d skillfully skirted with a big “fuck you” and a bloody smile. He had the respect of his peers and fear of the new recruits. Most importantly, he had a pack he loved. Never went to bed wanting or alone. His inner Omega should be satisfied, all things considering, and yet, he still yearns. 

He feels guilty sometimes. When he’s laid out on one of his mate’s beds, sweaty and thrumming with release. He rolls over, pressing wet kisses to damp skin and trying to focus on fingers that ghost over his head. Tries to push out the gnawing subconscious thought of more. He wants to scoff at himself. 3 mates and somehow he still couldn’t help but be greedy. 

It’s like Price says in the field (and in the bedroom, funnily enough): “You're a goddamn restless dog ain’t ‘ya? Restless and a dog, indeed. 

His words run through Soap’s mind as he stares at you. His dirty little one-sided secret. He’s watched you for months. Smelled you immediately when his eyes first landed on you, an unforgettable mix of vanilla licorice, fruit, and a tang of something earthy, like grass or rain. So unbelievably feminine and soft, he was intoxicated. Couldn’t help but watch as you walked down the hall. You had glanced at him, eyebrows furrowing slightly; he remembered the chill that ran through him when you locked eyes. 

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

He had immediately sweet talked the Beta receptionist into handing over your file. He had tucked it under his arm and taken it to his room, locking the door and glancing around like he was a teen with a raunchy magazine. Read it front to back. You were smart, specialized in cybersecurity before you joined the military. Now you drifted from team to team, going where you were needed. Helping run covert hops here, a little hacking there. He felt a grin take over his face when he saw that in your last assignment, you acted as a demolition expert. An impressive resume, he faintly wondered why you hadn’t been pinned down by a team yet. Clearly, you were an asset. 

He got to your current contract papers, seeing you were brought on to be a floater. You’d help with missions in the unit how they saw fit. He could only pray that he’d be working with you eventually. He closes the file, thumbing the small file photo of you. You were beautiful no doubt, not smiling but still holding a hint of softness. 

He pauses when he realizes he didn’t see a presentation in your file. He flips through the pages again, skimming through your medical report. The boxes next to ��Omega’, ‘Alpha’, and ‘Beta’ are all unmarked. It clicks then, your sweet smell and the lack of presentation in your files. You were an Omega. 

Soap wasn’t really supposed to be where he was as an Omega. While there were no rules against it, there were hardly any Omegas here for a reason. It was hard, both physically and mentally. Soap had taken twice the recommended amount of suppressants and nearly went broke buying scent blockers. Put his body through hell and back to prove he was worthy. It was only when he became Lieutenant and had the protection of a pack that he felt comfortable enough to stop hiding his presentation . By then, no one could really say anything about it. 

His heart raced. You were an Omega. He had no proof other than being one himself, but he was almost sure of it. It did nothing to curb his growing curiosity. 

He should have pushed you out of his mind, but he’s Soap. He’s insistent and can be downright stubborn when it comes down to it. It was just his nature. He formulated a whole plan, get close to you, slowly ease you into meeting his pack, then make you theirs. Plain and simple. 

It was not plain and simple. 

First of all, the guilt started eating at him. He had everything he’d ever hoped for, a family, a successful career, and here he was. The worst part is that Soap couldn’t help it, he loved his mates, their masculine presence and smell that filled a room. But he secretly can’t help but wish there was another Omega around, someone who could help him ground his Alphas. Gaz did a great job, but he was a beta, and Soap often received the brunt end of Ghost and Prices’ more baser instincts. Not just an Omega, but a woman. Someone with that femininity and power that balances and soothes an entire pack into submission. 

Second of all, you didn’t want to give him the time of day. 

The first time he approaches you is in the dining hall, your face stoic and focused as you grab an apple and place it on your tray. He takes a few breaths, your muted and yet somehow still overwhelming scent filling his senses. 

“New around here bonnie?” He finally gets the courage up to speak.  “Names Johnny, but people call me Soap.” He reaches a hand out. 

You take it hesitantly, and he revels in the softness. He tries not to get distracted by the way his hand almost completely covers your own. 

“Y/n.” you respond curtly, releasing his hand and grabbing your tray.  “Transferred a week ago.” You don’t wait for his response, making your way over to one of the many tables littered with people chatting. Soap hastily grabs a banana and his tray, taking long strides to catch up with you. 

“So uh, how you likin’ it so far?” He flinches at his own stutter. God, he’s out of practice. 

You give him a pointed look. 

“S’fine.” You sit, hastily picking up your spoon and taking a bite of oatmeal. It doesn’t deter Soap. 

He spends the next 30 minutes talking your ear off, receiving the occasional nod or “mhm” from you. You give up very little about yourself, answering shortly and precisely. It drives him mad. 

You cut off his rant on the latest recruits, standing abruptly. “It was nice talking with you Lieutenant MacTavish, but I have to get going.” 

He watches as you leave, stunned and frankly a little turned on at how easily you brushed him off. Soap was a sucker for a chase. 

He faintly realizes that you knew his rank and last name, and has a feeling that you’re a careful and intelligent woman. It only fuels his growing suspicion of your presentation. 

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

Soap keeps trying after that, despite the gnawing feeling of guilt and greediness. The less you give him, the more enraptured he becomes. With every eye roll and silent stretch you give him, he falls deeper and deeper into the need to make you his. 

It only takes a couple months for it all to come to a head. Soap finds you in a hallway late at night, most people tucked away in their quarters. Your scent is slightly off, soured and citrusy. He loves it. 

“Where are you stormin’ off to?” 

You don’t answer, which is not unusual, but the way you push past him without so much of a glance, is. “Aye, c’mon love, what’s got you so worked up?” 

You turn on your heel, almost crashing into Soap. You didn’t hate him, sometimes you even welcomed the company, even though his jokes were shit. Not that you’d let him know you even remotely liked his presence. You stare him down for a second, teeth gritted. 

You had just overheard some particularly nasty and sexist comments about you, not the first time- hell not even the fiftieth time. But it never stung less, that people refused to see your experience and rank simply because you had the misfortune of being born a woman. You regret the words almost as soon as you say them. 

“Leave me the fuck alone, MacTavish. I’m not interested in your company, and I sure as shit didn’t ask for it. Go bother your pack, and leave me alone.” You spit the word at him, and you’re not sure why. Maybe it’s a reflection of your own loneliness deep down. You can’t stand the shock on his face, so you turn around and sulk to the kitchen to find a sweet treat to placate you. 

Soap watches as you leave, and he’s hurt. How can you not see how perfect you’d be for the pack? Granted, he’s the only one that knows, he still has no idea how to broach the topic with his pack. Would they hate him? Call him selfish, wonder why they weren’t enough for him? His fists clench at his sides as your scent completely fades. 

Then it clicks. He doesn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it before. He smiles to himself, no longer upset at your blatant rejection. He almost skips back to his room. 

He has it all figured out. 

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

The next morning he flirts with some nurses, brings them donuts from the place off base. While they’re all distracted and giggling amongst each other, he quietly slips into the record room and grabs your files. His heart beats out of his chest at the little checkmark next to “Omega”. 

He knew it. He flips through the files quickly, finding a detailed page tracking your heat cycles. You haven’t had a heat in years, seeing a note that says you denied a doctor's request to go into heat at least once every 3 years. He knew that pain, he couldn’t imagine you putting yourself through that. You shouldn't be putting yourself through that. He’ll make sure that you don’t have to anymore. 

He flips a few more pages, going back to when you did have your heats. He finds an entry that notes that you had unusually long and painful heats, along with a prescription of sedatives. The next line states that you usually have them every 3 months, February, May, August and sometimes December. He hears his heartbeat in his ears when he realizes his luck of it being the beginning of December. It was meant to be. 

He closes the file quietly, closing his eyes in relief. You’d be his, and his pack’s, soon. 

That night, while you’re showering in the gym, Soap is breaking into your room. It doesn’t take much effort, he’s in within minutes, stepping into your sacred space. There’s a half assed nest in the corner of your room, your instincts must be strong if you’re still nesting while taking suppressants. He wants to go over and fluff it for you, add his scent covered shirt to the pitiful pile. He shakes his head. He needs to focus on why he’s here. 

He rifles through your cabinets, desperately searching. He knows you like long showers, but he’s still on edge. If he gets caught, it’s all over. He tries to be quick without disturbing the placement of your items, but he begins to panic when he can’t find those familiar little pills. He rushes to your bed, looking underneath. He’s about to lose hope when he moves from underneath your bed, cursing when he knocks his head on the frame. 

He almost doesn’t hear it. The soft thud of something falling. He looks back under the bed, eyes falling on a tiny box meant for jewelry. He grabs it, slowly opening it and removing the piece of foam on top. 

Bingo. 

He stares at the tiny pills, the familiar pale blue a contrast against the black of the box. He spills a few in his hand. There were enough for months. You were like he was, handing your health over in exchange for surviving here. His fist closes over pills as he makes his way out of your room. He locks your door behind him, trying not to run to his room. When he makes it there, he’s buzzing with excitement. He goes to his bathroom, opening the toilet lid and fishing the box from his pocket. He doesn’t hesitate in throwing them all into the bowl, and watching as the water swirls when he flushes. The water settles, and your pills are gone. 

Omega’s are the most sensitive of the three presentations. Senses more in tune than even the best Alpha. It was in their very biology to be strong in ways Alpha’s were not, to hold a pack together. Your biology would work quickly, work through the artificial hormones you’d been poisoning yourself with in haste. It happened to him, after so long of suppressing his Omega, it came back with a vengeance. You would be no different. 

And with Price’s rut- and Ghost’s, coming up soon, they won’t stand a chance against the strong smell of an Omega in heat. He’ll make sure that they find you, that they take care of you. 

It was all part of his plan, after all.

[cat-got-your-tongue]

too sweet for me

Dp&W!Logan howlett x fem!reader

Summary: You've not been feeling like yourself, and you take it out on logan until one day he decides he can't take it anymore.

Content Warnings: established relationship | spanking | mention of safe word | dom/sub undertones | fingering | maturbation (male) | facials | so sorry if I left anything out. If you tell me I'll fix it.

Word count: 4.2k

Authors note: I'm still trying to get into the swing of writing. I hope you enjoy. I proofread this one a little bit. My requests are open. Pictures used are not mine found on Pinterest. Divider by @saradika-graphics

My work will always be 18+ Minors do not interact.

You had been in a foul mood all day, no better yet all week. Any little thing Logan did got under your skin. He used your shampoo, and suddenly, you were slinging the bottle across the bathroom. He made your coffee, and you snatched it away from him. He said good morning, and you responded with a roll of your eyes and a "good morning" under your breath. It seemed like all you wanted to do was pick a fight. And your attitude was aimed solely at him.

Logan noticed how relaxed and sweet you were with Wade. He watched as you laughed, and it he wouldn't lie it stung him a bit. You seemed to enjoy that annoying fucks company more than his. Logan had been trying so hard to get back into your good graces for the past couple of days now. When he spoke to you, he made sure his tone of voice was soft. He didn't want to trigger whatever animosity you had for him.

He didn't like feeling as if he were walking on eggshells around you. But he didn't know what to do - or what he did for you to act this way. The only thing he knows is that when you got this way, he hated it. Logan had a hard time controlling his temper, and you certainly knew how to test his patience. So much so that he had to leave the apartment you two live in and spend the night at Wades place.

Today, he had enough.

Logan had been trying to put your bookshelf together today. One you picked out at ikea, and he made a comment on building you a better one that would last much longer. You were hell bent on this particular shelf that could fit right in the corner of your living room. You bugged him all week to do it. But he had been busy working, and then by the time he came home, he was exhausted.

"Baby, can ya' grab me a beer while i do this?" He spoke up as he looked over the instructions. His eyes trained on the visual image on the flimsy piece of paper. His vision straining a bit.

"No," you snapped when logan asked you to get him a beer from the fridge. "Get it yourself. I'm not your maid."

Logan sighed and took a deep breath. He didn't want to snap at you, but you made it really fucking hard not to. "Fine."

He got up, tossing the instructions down and going over to the fridge. You were standing there as his shoulder brushed yours, and his hard gaze fell on you. You shrunk down a bit and went back to sit down at the table. You didn't know why you were being an asshole. You wish you weren't this way. You always seemed to get agitated with the people who never deserved it.

"Wanna tell me what crawled up your ass?"Logan popped his beer open and took a long swig. "I'm trying not to react but it's really hard dealing with your bitchy attitude all week and I've been trying my fuckin' best to please ya."

Logan regretted those words the moment they left his mouth. Your nonchalant reaction to them only pissed him off more.

You didn't respond. You only shrugged your shoulders and went back to reading your book at the table. You couldn't tell him what was wrong, because you had no idea either. He didn't do anything. You were just not in a good mood, and unfortunately, logan was taking the blunt of it. You know his feelings were probably hurt. Especially after seeing you so upbeat and happy when Wade was around.

Logan took another sip of his beer and slammed the bottle down on the table right next to you, causing you to jump a little. He leaned over the back of the chair. his lips ghosting your ear. You could smell the alcohol on his breath, and you didn't need to see his face to know he's mad. You've pushed him too far. He had been patient, and you kept pushing. You kept snapping and being mouthy.

"Go in the bedroom and get undressed." His voice is low and dangerous in your ear.

"But" you tried to argue back, knowing what he wanted to do.

"Don't." His voice was soft again. "No buts I've had about enough of your fuckin' attitude. Go in the bedroom, get undressed, and I'll meet ya' in there."

You turned to look up at him from your seat. Your eyes pleaded for him to change his mind. Yet you knew you deserved it. Everything you've done and said led up to this moment.

"Now." He commanded and picked up his beer and finished it off.

You quickly rose to your feet and carefully got up, trying not to look up at him. He could be intimidating when he's angry. He'd never actually hurt you. You and logan had this agreement since you began dating. Punishments were a pretty normal thing. Logan hated giving them just and much as you hated getting them. (Well, you and him didn't hate them all the time) they did help you, and he knew that. All of the times, when you were overwhelmed with emotions and didn't know how to handle them — this was an outlet for you to let it all out. You would ask for a punishment. Logan always gave you what you wanted and pampered you when it was all done.

You went into your shared room and stripped down until you were completely naked. You sat on the edge of the bed, hanging your head. Hoping logan would take some pity on you. The room was dark, save for the sunset peaking through your curtains.

Logan sat down at the chair you were in before leaving. He tried to collect himself before joining you. He really just wanted you to talk to him. He wanted to understand you. Understand what he did wrong. Understand why you seemed so angry, but he remembered your eyes. You looked so sad and unsure of yourself. All he wanted to do was scoop you up in his arms and protect you from your feelings. He knows doing this will help clear your mind.

He sat there for a couple more minutes, letting you anticipate what was coming, but also trying to calm himself.

Finally, logan walked into the room and saw you at the edge of the bed. You looked defeated. His eyes softened slightly, but he knew he had to go through with this. If you didn't want the punishment, you would use your safeword. You've used it many times before. Since you didn't say anything and you complied to strip off your clothes. He sensed you wanted this punishment if it made you nervous.

"Look at me, baby." He walked to stand above you. His finger lifted your chin up. Your eyes met his. You made it so hard for him to stay mad at you.

You were just so sweet even if you were a fucking pain in the ass to handle. Too sweet for someone like him sometimes.

You looked up at him, his touch was gentle on your face. His hazel eyes weren't boring into yours. He seemed remorseful for what he was about to do. He knew he had to. He couldn't let you continue being so rude and disrespectful towards him. He also knew you needed this. Your body language told him everything.

Logan let go of your chin and took off his white tank top, throwing it across the room. Your eyes ran up and down his body. Your thighs squeezed together. You could feel your arousal already pooling between your legs.

He ran a hand through his hair. "How do ya' want it, hand or belt?"

You hesitated to answer at first.

"Uhmm, your hand." Your voice was quiet.

Logan smirked, noting how quickly your little attitude was already changing. "Alright, it'll be my hand, and we'll do ten spanks. Sound good?"

You nodded and bit down on your bottom lip.

"Use your words, baby." Logan got closer, invading your space. He placed his hands on either side of your hips, his grip firm, but still gentle. He could feel his cock already beginning to strain against the cold metal of his zipper.

"Sounds good." You spoke again quietly.

"Okay." He leaned down and gave the corner of your mouth a quick kiss. "Get up and lay over my lap. You remember what to say if you want this to stop. Yeah?"

"I say red." You jump down off the bed. Logan reluctantly releases your hips but moves back slightly to give you some space.

He sat down in the same spot you were sitting in. You stood there in front of him, your body bare for him. He took you all in and licked his lips. If you weren't being such a brat he'd fuck you instead. God, the things he'd do to you right now. He had to fight those urges. Those primal urges to pull you in his lap and drive his cock deep in your weeping cunt.

You wanted to apologize. You knew it was too little too late for that. No amount of apologizing would help you now. The thought of logan spanking you sent waves of arousal and fear through your body.

"Good girl." Logan praised. His deep, husky voice made your clit pulsate. He reached out, yanking you by the waist, and threw you over his lap.

You gasped as you were now laying across his thighs. His belt buckle digging into your side. Your feet dangling over the floor as you tried not to fall off him. He probably would like that, though. Seeing you fall and watching you get embarrassed.

"Lo, are you mad at me?" You turned to glance up at him over your shoulder.

His quirked an eyebrow up at you. "Mad? Don't ya' think it's a little too late to be askin' me that?" He sighed. "Yeah, I'm mad, but we'll discuss all of that later. Right now, I want ya' to count every spank I give your ass. Okay?"

You turned your head and looked down. You tried to keep your focus on a spot on the floor. It usually helped you deal with the pain and slight humiliation would feel. "Okay."

Logan rubbed his hand over the plush skin of your bottom. You heard him hum as you laid over his lap. Your ass reminded him of a ripe peach he wanted to sink his teeth into. Juicy, firm, soft all the things he liked.

"I hate doin' this. Punishing ya'. I'd much rather be balls deep inside ya' but you just had to hurt my feelings." Logan spoke from behind you. He wasn't really speaking to you rather than at you. He didn't care for your response or sorrys.

"Lo...I- I don't mean to." Your voice broke and your eyes blurred with tears.

You never thought how you were acting would actually hurt his feelings. Logan's never been good at expressing that before. Maybe your sudden mood swings were starting to really affect him. Even if it was your way of asking to be punished — or you were just not feeling like yourself and the sudden wave of sadness made you lash out.

Regardless, it wasn't fair to logan. You see that now. You always saw him as this invincible man where nothing could hurt him. Not even harsh words and the silent treatment. You were wrong. So very wrong.

"Start counting." He interrupted you. His hand, going back to connect with your ass with a harsh slap.

You whimpered, and tears fell from your eyes. "O-ne."

Logan rubbed over the spot he just spanked. You were already crying, and he's barely gotten started. He didn't give you much time to collect yourself before his hand was reconnecting in hard slap to your ass. He watches as the skin ripples from the impact. His cock growing harder watching your ass jiggle as you took your punishment. He had to bit his tongue and not make a comment on it, know how you'd you get embarrassed. Even if he'd love seeing you get that way.

"T-two." You cried out. Your tears falling down your cheeks and onto the floor beneath you, creating small salty puddles.

Logan's hand reeled back again, spanking you over and over. He didn't slow down or go easy on you. Every swat felt like your ass all the way down to your thighs would go numb from the pain. You were a sobbing mess as you struggled to even count for him.

"Shh, shh baby, we're almost done." He soothed you and kissed your temple. "You're doing so good."

Your mind was in a haze now. You couldn't remember being upset. The only thing on your mind was logan and the stinging pain he was inflicting to your ass. His rough hands groping at your skin before delivering another harsh blow.

You could feel your juices running down your legs. You hoped logan wouldn't notice how turned on you also were getting. The more you cried and got it all out, the better you felt. As weird as it probably sounded to some. This made you feel at ease once it was all said and done.

Logan noticed you go silent. The only sound coming from your lips were soft cries.

"Do ya' know what number we're at now?" He rubbed down your back, avoiding your ass for now.

You shook your head. "N-no."

"We're at eight. almost done." Logan reassured, his hand slowly inching down your back and resting on the curve of your sore cheeks.

You took a few steady deep breaths. In and out. In and out. Repeating the action over and over again.

Logan observed the way you were trying to pull yourself together. He gave you a small smile before continuing on. He gave your ass a light little tap, signaling you he was about to start again. You braced yourself as your body hung over his lap. Your toes danced across the floor while you desperately tried to keep yourself perfectly balanced.

"Nine." You yelped a little louder. His hand came down again. The sounds that were made each time his palm connected to your skin sent a shiver down your spine.

"....t-ten." Your voice was raspy, barely even above a whisper as you counted the final blow.

"There we go, baby. We're done. We're all done." Logan went right back into soothing you. He looked down towards your ass watching your body trembling. "You're so strong, ya' know that? So good."

You tried to catch your breath as you choked back another sob. Your face was tear stained, and your makeup ruined.

Logan rubbed up and down the back of your thighs as well. His hand sneaking in between them. He bit his lip as he noticed how wet you got during your punishment. Your inner thighs sticky with your slick. He ran a finger along your wet slit, teasing you. Your nails dig into his strong thighs.

"Mmm, you feel so soft." He purred above you.

Your pussy was drenched with your juices. Your body was still shaking from your punishment. Your ass felt like it was on fire. Logan moved his middle finger up and down along your slit before taking his middle and index finger to spread open your sensitive lips. You turned your head to watch as logan admired your sex dripping for him. He loved the way it glistened. He watched as your walls clenched around nothing, practically begging him to fill you up.

All that attitude, sadness, and feelings of self-doubt of yours were fading away.

"Logan, please," you begged him. Your voice, still raspy. He did a double take at your disheveled appearance. Your eyes bloodshot with your mascara running, smudging your under eyes.

Logan felt so bad for making you cry like that. He felt even worse for not taking it easy on you when he was spanking you. Even if it helped you get over whatever it was you that bothered you. But he couldn't deny how hard it made him as well.

He didn't respond as he spread your lips further apart, letting the cold air of your bedroom hit your entrance. Your face heating up while logan fully exposes you. Your clit throbbing as it goes ignored. He takes his thumb and rubs the outer part of your opening, getting it nice and ready. You moan, and logan doesn't stop looking at you.

"Ya' have the tightest little pussy." He commented, feeling how your entrance wants to take in his thumb, but he doesn't push it in. Not yet.

Instead, he pulls it away, and you whine; a small pout forming on your face. You began squirming over his lap, his erection pressing right against your stomach. You can see just how feral he wants to be become. His pupils blown completely until out, you can't see the color anymore. His nostrils flared while smelling your arousal all in the room.

"This is how it's gonna be. I'll let ya' cum on my fingers. That's all ya' get tonight. Jus' my fingers. You don't deserve my dick. " His tone was strong and commanding as he told you how the rest of the night was going to go.

That's when you knew your punishment didn't just stop once the spanking was over with.

"Will you still help me get cleaned up afterward?" You felt a little disappointed and on the verge of crying again when he rejected you. Logan usually always fucked you after your punishment. This time it was so different.

"Baby, I'm always gonna take of ya." Logan reassured. Which almost made you feel better.

He finally slipped a finger inside you. Your walls instinctively squeeze around his thick digit. You cried out in pleasure as you squirmed more. The pad of his finger slowly rubbing and pressing firmly on that spongey spot on your walls. You arched your back and dug your nails into his skin through his jeans.

"Hmmphf.... more lo— I need more." You begged.

Your head felt dizzy from all the sensations you felt. Your ass was still in so much pain but logans attention to your pussy kept your mind off it. Normally, he would tease you longer. Make you beg until you were a complete wreck. He couldn't bring himself to do that tonight. He felt guilty for spanking you the way he did. But still wasn't going to give you his cock.

Logan gently pushed another finger inside you. You bit your lip to stifle a moan as he began pumping them in and out of you slowly. You felt his cock twitch in his jeans under you. His fingers knuckle deep in your cunt as he trusted them inside you. He curled them up and made sure to pay close attention to your g-spot, pressing on it and massaging it. Your walls clenching up and your toes curling.

"You okay, baby? Logan checked in, but his fingers didn’t slow.

"Y-yes...m'okay keeping going" You stammered out, as you tried to keep focus.

He chuckled and picked up the pace. His fingers were making your pussy create the most vulgar wet sounds you've ever heard. Your slick soaking his hand as he fucked you. Your legs shook and he took his other hand to rub tight circles over your clit. You could feel your orgasm building up. That coil in your lower belly tightening as logan fingered you hard and deep.

"F-fu- logan, I can't hold it." You warned him. Your moans were getting louder and more desperate.

"Aaah! god! I'm gonna-" You mewled while your cunt was being spread open. His long, thick fingers working in and out of you.

That only spurred him on until you were cuming all over his hands. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you hold onto his thighs for dear life.

Logan didn't stop. His fingers still moved in and out of you while his other hand payed attention to your throbbing clit. He milked your pussy as you rode out your release. He finally slowed down and stilled his hands. Carefully, he removed his fingers with a loud shlick. A string of your juices still connecting to them. He brought them up to his lips, sticking them in his mouth.

Logan hummed at the taste of you. "You're so sweet. " You wanted to hide your face. Your eyes glossy from your orgasm.

"Come on, on your knees." He patted your ass gently. You didn't move at first. Your body was too weak, and your mind was still too cloudy think.

He noticed your hesitation and figured out why. He placed his hands on your waist and moved you gently to the floor to sit back on your knees.

"Jus' because I'm not sticking my dick in you tonight doesn't mean I can't get off, too." He grunted and unbuckled his belt.

Logan unzipped his pants and his cock sprung free almost smacking you in the face. The head of his cock leaking precum. You lick your lips and immediately try to taste him. He grabbed your jaw firm but not enough to hurt you.

"Ah ah, and what do you think you're doing?" He smirked, taking his cock in his hand.

"I thought you'd want me to use my mouth." You looked up at him, confusion written all over your face.

"Ya' don't get to blow me either. Ya' get to watch me jerk myself off and cum all over that pretty face of yours." Logan let go of your jaw and stood up straight. His form towering over yours as you kneeled in front of him.

"Oh." You wiped your eyes. You felt rejected yet again, but honestly, you understand why. You were a bitch to him for the past week. It was only fair and definitely part of the punishment.

"If you're good. I might let you ride me tomorrow mornin'." He looked down at you, giving you a small smile. You know him telling you no was just as difficult.

Logans abs flexed as his hand slowly started stroking his cock. His thumb pushing down on his tip, smearing in his precum. He let out a loud hiss and groaned. You watched from your position. You shift in your spot as you feel yourself getting wetter. Logan was taking his time. He was making a show of it – wanting you to see what you're missing. His body glistened with sweat. His mouth parted as he muttered "fuck" under his breath.

His hand moved up and down, pumping himself above you. Your eyes were in awe at how beautiful he was. You watched how his abs flexed and his Adam's apple danced. You wanted to reach out and help him. You wanted to apologize with your mouth full of his cock. He wasn't going to let you do any of that.

"Ahh, goddammit. If you weren't such a brat, I'd have ya' split open right now." He grunted again. "Make ya call me sir with my dick in the back of your throat."

"You still can." You reminded him.

He laughed. "Nice try, but no. Only good girls get my dick. Ya' haven't been good."

You frowned and kept your hands in your lap. Your juices were dripping down your legs and little to the floor. You've never been more frustrated and turned on in your life. You watched logan stroking himself. His eyes half lidded, and his muscles flexed with every movement. His pace quickened and you could tell he was about to cum. He cupped his balls with his other hand, making his knees buckle slighlty. Your clit ached at the sight before you.

"Goddamn," he whispered to himself while his hand moved at a faster pace. "See what ya' do to me? How hard ya' make me?"

You watched in awe as your pussy ached more for him. You were on the verge of pouting but remembered what he told you. "Ya can ride me in the mornin" his words echoed in your ear. That promise was enough to keep you at bay and kneeling down before him like a good girl. His good girl. That's what you wanted to be again.

His chest was rising and falling faster. Logan gave himself a few more long strokes, and he was finishing all over your face. He growled harshly and ropes of cum shot out onto your mouth and chin. He was careful not to get any in your eyes or hair. Logan kept pumping himself, milking every single drop he had left in him. You went to move away, but the hand that was on his balls grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you closer. Your face just millimeters away from his cock and heavy balls. His hand finally stilled.

All you could hear was the sound of his heavy breathing. You waited until he came down from his high. His release had hit him hard, too, just as yours did. Logan had been pent up with so much frustration over these past couple of weeks because of you. You felt his hand letting go of your neck. You went to rub the sore spot where his fingers dug into your skin. He didn't speak to you yet. He was still trying to catch his breath after his release.

Logan dragged his hand down his face and looked you over once more. He gently took you by the upper arms and put you on your feet. Your legs felt wobbly, and the stinging pain on your ass returned. Logans eyes trailed up and down your body, focusing on your face.

You were a mess, cheeks all tear stained. Your makeup smudged and now his cum dripping down your chin. You were a beautiful sight. One logan wanted to admire forever. If he had his phone; he'd make this moment his lockscreen and jerk off to it when you weren't around.

Your tongue inched out to lick some of the cum off your lips. You loved the way he tasted and hated how he wouldn't let you have more. Logan felt his cock twitching again but chose to ignore it. He let out a shuddered breath and shook his head.

"Ya' alright? Was that too much?" He bent down, grabbing his discarded shirt off the floor. Logan carefully wipe off the mess on your face, starting with his cum.

"Not too much." You shook your head. "I'm fine." You tried to fix up your makeup, but it was really no use.

He leaned down and gave your forehead a sweet kiss.

"We need to get some aloe on your ass. It'll help sooth that burning feelin" Logan moved around the room as you stood in your spot. You wrapped your arms around your middle while you watched him hunt for the aloe and put his jeans back on.

Logan noticed how you were hugging around yourself. He cursed under his breath, fixing himself back in his pants. There was something still lingering in the air. He couldn't put his finger on it.

"C'mere baby." He took your arms from around you and pulled you to him in a warm embrace. You buried your face in his chest, taking in his scent. Logan could sense how you needed his comfort more than some lotion right now.

You two stood in eachothers arms for what felt like hours. He finally spoke up, breaking the silence.

"If ya' don't wanna talk about what's been bothering ya' I want pressure. Jus' know I'm all ears once you're ever ready to tell me"

You nodded and closed your eyes, not wanting him to let you go.

"Sometimes I don't know what's wrong." You whispered to him.

"And that's okay." He kissed the top of your head. "Let's take a bath together, and I'll cook ya' dinner."

"Are you gonna finish my bookshelf?" You moved your head away to meet his gentle gaze.

Logan chuckled and playfully swatted your ass. "Yeah, yeah, I'll finish that damn bookshelf."

The rest of your night was spent with you in logans arms after he helped get you all cleaned up. He got our your favorite sweatshirt and made you food. You sat on the couch watching him get frustrated with the instructions to your bookshelf that he had to remind you he could've just made you a better one. Logan did end up finishing it for you and joined you on the couch, pulling you into his lap where you both ended up falling asleep.

[bunny-jpeg]

thing just ain't fittin'

captain john price

cw: pwp/smut, younger!reader (legal aged), size kink, shy!reader, female reader, finger-fucking, brief oral sex (reader receiving), multiple orgasms, breeding kink

bunny: *leaves this and goes running for the hills*

a sight to behold.

lips touched lips.

price was a maniac for your affection. and how much he wanted to cram every last inch into your sweet cunt. he wondered if it would fit, at almost eight inches he knew that it was hard to stuff it all in his pants. so to get it to fit into your tight heat was going to be another challenge.

so price had you on your back, you clung to a pillow on your chest as you moaned into it. you hid your face because you were just so shy. his lips were up against your neck as he finger-fucked you.

his facial hair brushed against your skin that felt like a live wire was being run across it. he could feel your quick pulse under his lips as he continued to attempt to loosen your cunt for his heavy cock.

when he got undressed and revealed his hard on to you, your eyes went wide and you gulped. you thought you knew what "almost eight inches" looked like, until it was pressed up against your face, your nose dipped into his dark pubic hair.

it wasn't fittin'.

so he laid you back on the bed and played with your sweet sex until you were soaked. he wanted to make sure that when he sank into your pussy, it felt good.

"that's my good girl." he purred, his cock stood at full attention.

"john." you croaked.

he chuckled, "don't worry, love. let me take care of ya. my sweet girl." he kissed at the shell of your ear, "so good for me. you like when i play with you like this." he tugged on it a little with his teeth, "tell me, love. how much do you like it?"

you clung to the pillow tighter and whimpered, it felt like you were being taken apart piece by piece. your wetness clung to your inner thighs. you replied, "it feels so good, john."

he calloused thumb grazed your clit and you jolted up. but he was quickly and kept your pinned to the bed by his forearm against your chest, "down girl." he chuckled.

the sounds of your wetness paired with your sweet moans filled your bedroom. your toes curled and you hole fluttered around his digits. you didn't even need to say in words how good it all felt. your brain was currently being melted by his touches.

and it wasn't even the main event yet.

"please, john. I think i'm ready!" you whined.

your older boyfriend chuckled, "i'm not takin' ya to the hospital because i was too big for my so much smaller girl." he pulled away to look at you. to monitor your expressions as he moved his fingers faster.

you tensed up as you hid your face once more. but he wasn't letting you hide for much longer. he pulled your head away from the pillow and held you hair as he examined your face. his pace was brutal.

"john! ah! fuck!" you whined.

he kissed your flushed cheek and said, "good girl. come around my fingers. i want to make sure you're as wet as you can get, love. i want to fit like a glove in you."

you replied, "maybe if you weren't so big we wouldn't have this problem."

he grabbed you by the face and turned you to face him. his expression seemed hard for a moment as he said, "you won't be complainin' once it's buried in ya."

his dominating demeanor was enough to make you orgasm. you clutched onto the pillow and came around his thick fingers. you swore you saw stars as you hit your peak.

price was pleased with himself as he pulled his fingers out of you, they glistened in the soft light of your bedroom. curiosity got the best of him as he licked your wetness off of his fingers. the sight of it in your heightened euphoria made your cheeks burn.

"only the best." he purred he licked his top lip before he got himself between your legs. his movements were slow but precise, like he had been practicing in his mind how to get himself to fit in you. he grabbed you by the thighs and had his face between your legs.

he shuddered when he got to taste you wet pussy. the slick clung to your lips as he gave them a gentle lick. his cock was painfully hard, if he didn't get into you soon he was going to finish all over the sheets.

and why would he do that? not when he has the most perfect, soaked pussy to fill up.

he panted as he took small breaks to catch his breathing. your wetness is in his facial hair. those blue eyes looked up from where he was before he dove back in.

"please, ah! john!" you whined.

he was certain you were overwhelmed with pleasure. he gave the top of your pussy a kiss, right over you cervix. he smiled as he kissed your soft skin. kisses mark the spot.

the spot he was going to finish on.

he wiped his mouth, he knew he'd have to wash his face afterwards. the taste of you lingered on him as he got between your legs and rested on his heels. his cock stood proud.

your brain was to riddled with pleasure that his cock looked a little less intimidating.

a big cock for a big man in charge.

while he didn't make you feel small in a bad way, sometimes the sheer size him had you feeling like a little delicate creature. it didn't help that almost an hour since you entered the bedroom, he was only now fucking you.

he grabbed the pillow from you and put it under your hips for leverage. he admired your sweaty body as his cock pushed into your pussy. the feeling of your tight cunt almost knocked the wind out of him.

you covered your face as you moaned. you felt so embarrassed by how good it felt. you couldn't believe it was all fitting in there.

"holy shit, love." he groaned. it came from the depths of his soul. he felt the sparks go off in his head as he managed to get inch after inch into you. eventually his heavy fuzzy balls were rubbing against you.

he had fit it all in you.

he placed a hand on your middle and rubbed it. his wishful thinking had him wondering if he could feel it in you. the heavy weight of his cock inside of his sweet girl's even sweeter pussy.

your cheeks burned, the room felt hot. but most of all you felt full. you were thankful that he was close to eight inches and not close to nine. you weren't certain there was enough space.

but you also knew that price would make it fit.

your older, more physically imposing boyfriend started to move his hips. your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the nudge of his length against where your pussy ended. it felt like it was past your uterus and was now just in your stomach.

"so small." he chuckled, his cheeks were stained pink, "but still you are such a good girl for me. i thought i was only gettin' the tip in. but i now know that your sweet little cunny can fit all of me."

you whimpered. while the pace wasn't particularly fast, every movements made shivers run through your body. you could feel it from your toes to the tip of your nose.

price admired you though. he watched as you squirmed to accommodate his movements. a thrill of possessiveness ran up his spine at the thought of how his cock could fit in you.

not that co-worker he hated, or the guy who bagged your groceries. or even the guy who cashed your pay stubs. only him, john price.

his pace began to pick up as he felt the pleasure cross up his spine. he wiped the sweat from his forehead and leaned in to kiss you. he planted both hands on either side of your head as he thrusted into you.

your body moved against the bed and you held onto the covers under you. you moaned and whimpered against his kiss. it was music to his ears and it made him ache for more.

his good girl, who made him all fit inside of her. weren't you just the most perfect girl he could ever ask for. he only parted the kiss for a moment before he went in for another.

his cock felt so heavy. your hole fluttered around it, it was euphoria as he continued to move. the pleasure was filling both of your heads with heavy heat. his chest was soon pressed against yours as he held your thighs up to get as deep as he could get.

you panted heavily between moans. you tried to meet his pace without thinking. your eyes were hazy. the pleasure was intense, you let you boyfriend take control however he saw fit.

"my girl."

"yes."

you were the first to climax. the pleasure built up in your gut once more and you clenched around him as you let out a high pitched noise from the intensity of the climax.

price held you legs open further as he continued to thrust into you. your wetness costed all the way to his balls by the time he was giving his last few thrusts.

"good girl." he groaned, "lettin' me fill her up." then held onto your thighs as he finished in you.

for a moment you wondered if you took your birth control today. but in all honesty, it was a little too late for that. price was certainly not firing blanks.

his cock didn't grow soft after he finished. instead it fueled a new fire in him. now that he knew he could fit inside of you, how many loads would it take to fill you to the brim.

your brain was blank as he moved you to the next position.

by the end of the night, you were covered in sweat and your middle was a little firmer from the amount of captain john price's seed was inside of you.

even if you tried to get plan b in the morning, there wasn't enough of it in the world to protect you from the sheer amount of cum there was inside of you.

oops. <3

[alien-magnolia]

Smell

Tw: lots of SMUT little plot, dom!coded Logan and sub-coded/fem!reader, SIZEknk, primal!, ovulation and Logan’s sense of smell, possessive Logan, breeding!knk, Logan is rough!!

18+ MDNI

A/n: I want him so bad. Pls reblog if you like <3 xoxo, Liz

It’s been a long day for the both of you. Charles had wanted the two of you to tag along on a mission to Eastern Europe, bringing a supposedly dangerous mutant who planned to wreak havoc back to the mansion. It was a large effort bringing him back, yet you all did it.

It was your favorite moment of the day, as if right now. You and Logan got to retire to your shared quarters, and relax for a good day or more. You loved spending time with him, especially after a long day — when both of your frustrations needed to be let out.

He unlocks the door, lighting a cigar as he steps through the threshold. Your smaller arms snake around his broad back, pressing gentle kissed into his flannel. “What’s the matter, huh, sweetheart?,” he turns to you, flicking the cigar to the side of his mouth with his tongue. “Missed you, is all. Been a hard day, Lo. Let’s unwind,” you softly whisper, your hands coming up to touch his beard, the one you loved so much: (especially when the scruff of it brushed your soaking cunt <3..)

He smiles, large hands cup your smaller face, as he brings you closer for a forehead kiss. He pauses momentarily to smell the nape of your neck. “Missed me after spending the day with me, huh, kid?,” a knowing smirk creeps across his face. You nod your head vigorously. “Or are you jus’ ovulating?,” the question makes itself very known in the room.

Your cheeks heat up as you start to blush. He cocks his head, chuckling. “I know you well, sweetheart,” he tells you, looking over the pleading gaze you had on him as of now. “Can smell you, you know. You always smell so fuckin’ good when you’re ovulating,” he adds, eyes darker than they were before. You blush under his hard gaze.

“Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna give you what ya’ need, though,” his gruff voice adds, sending shivers down your spine.

“What do I need, Lo?,” you ask, your small arms wrapping themselves around his broad, thick, muscular shoulders, your pretty and perky tits pressing up against his chest. He looks down at your face, then, at your tits, his hands move themselves from your face to your waist, his grip ironclad.

“You need my cock. S’alright, you just do what I say now, yeah?,” he asks, and you nod, oh so vigorously. His lips attack yours, as the two of them dance together, your lipgloss on his rough, slightly chapped — but soft lips. His beard tickled your soft cheeks, and you pressed yourself into him as tight as imaginable.

He pauses for a moment to inhale your scent again. “Fuck. You smell so sweet when you’re ovulating, you know that, yeah? Like it’s poison. That’s what you fuckin’ do to me,” he adds, almost snarling. “Wanna rile you up, Lo. Wanna be good for you, want you to hurt me,” you tell him, not even recognizing where all this was coming from. What was wrong with you? You were completely pliant for a man.

You wanted to be used by him. To feel ALL of his strength in each and EVERY possible way. You knew his abilities, you knew how animalistic he was when riled up. You wanted that Logan tonight. You’d let him scar you with his claws if he would: he would never, of course. He was insistently protective of you. That and your hormones: is what drove you to this state tonight.

You feel his hard on through his jeans , it's almost as if it was made of metal: (in a way it was.) His lips meet yours, pushing against you in a way that made your cunt throb, your soft lips and his rough ones danced together, as if glued. You loved how rough his beard felt on your face, and his neck smelled faintly of cigars. You hear a few grunts from him, his meaty hands coming up to grope and knead at your soft body.

His teeth clash against yours, the both of you were gravitating towards each other by some kind of invisible string or magnet. Your hands feel his heart, fast, through his wide chest. You loved that you never had to take off his shirt in moments like these. He never wore one. Around you, anyway.

You brush your pastel painted nails through his chest hair; coming up to smell it a little, rub your face against it. You wanted ALL of him; not only his cock.

He chuckles as you rub against his chest. “Aww. Goin’ all pathetic f’me, kid? Didn’t even start with you. Fuck.,” he growls, and pins you down onto the bed, your wrists above your head. A hard knee between your legs is used to spread them apart. Your arms — are still pinned to the bed, and his grip on your wrists is ironclad.

He’s on top of you, his hairy chest bearing a weight down on you, his soft lips nipping at your neck, at your tits, your soft belly. His beard tickles when he kisses down your stomach, lower, lower… he gets to your thighs, pressing a sweet and slobbery kiss to them, and starts attacking your nub, like it’s a hard candy, and he can’t get enough.

“Lo!! Lo!! You scream out, trying to get away from him. It was too much, you couldn’t!! You feel some of his claws come out, starting to pierce your thighs just a bit. You pull back, looking at him. He stares back, his gaze intense. “You want me to stop, baby?,” he asks, claws resting on your thighs. “No, no. I like it.,” you shamefully admit, your stomach dropping as he gazed at you, taking in your body as if it were a work of art.

He continues working you over, his tongue gentle yet powerful, your thighs getting red because of his abrasive beard. You feel your orgasm coming on, as a storm, and you try to pull away from him to lessen the intensity. His claws graze your soft skin as his iron grip pulls you right back. “Where ya think you going honey? Daddy’s not done here,” with that, his calloused hand slaps your roughed up cunt. You yelp, and he emits a burly, growled sort of chuckle. He goes back to slurping up your fluids like there is nothing left. You gush into his mouth, his beard now wet with your fluids.

He flips you over, his face pressing into your neck. “Fuck, so sweet…,” his heavily hooded eyes glaze over your face and neck, before taking a small bite into your jugular. He was your predator. You were under him, his prey, his for the taking, his to use.

Without another word, his mouth breathing hot and heavy near your panting face, your soft skin against his rough beard, his hands gripped you in place as he slid in. Bred you. Not a word. His hands began to hold you up by your neck, as if you were some kind of animal. His large heaving chest pressed into yours, his thick, pulsing cock stretched you so deliciously that it made your vision start to go.

“There you go, sweetheart. Take it. Fuck,” he growled, hands pinching and holding your soft skin. All his prey did was mutter and moan, and Logan, a man of few words, was satisfied. He had his girl under him, pliant, ready to be bred. And he did breed her. Hours and hours on end.

By the time Logan was done with you, you were both soaked in each other: literally and figureatively. He gently laid you on your back. “Lo,” you mutter, weakly, all your energy drained by your feral man. You’d let him kill you, even. You wanted to be used, to be his.

“Did so good f’me, little one. Let me get you all cleaned up. Don’t move, don’t want my girl tiring herself.

[screampied]

YOHHH I JS READ UR NEW POST, IM GONNA LYK HOW MUCH I LOVED IT LATER 😭😭😭

i do got a request tho 😻 soft dom toji talking the reader through her first orgasm, or hate sex with toji !! you can choose either !!

—pearl anon <3

Ⳋ᧙ : having hate sex with toji.

warnings. fem reader, hate sex, shower sex, dirty talk, praise, choking, breath play, mdni.

“fuck you, toji.”

you scoffed, yet little did you know how quick you’d be eating up your words. you slip off out a small gasp once he quickly spun you around in the shower. as water raced down your back, you were met with toji pressed up firm against you, parting your legs.

“fuck me?” he mocks your tone, and you almost slip off a moan once he runs a hand between your legs, brushing two fingers against your drenched slicked folds. “fuck me but y’er this fuckin’ wet?”

“that’s just the water.”

“that’s just the water,” he mimicked your voice, butchering it entirely. you were close up against the shower wall, and toji’s warmth went all over your body. “if y’er gonna talk to me like that at least face me. but you can’t do that in this position can you?”

it was pure silence.

“what i thought. no fuckin’ back talk, brat.”

“you talk so much,” you spat, only to whine once he gives your pussy a brief squeeze. it felt good, your breath soaks against the wall as you panted before you bit your lip. “just fuck me already.”

“got some nerve tellin’ me what to do,” toji scoffs, and you moan once you feel the tip of his dick graze against your folds. he was so thick, just the sole fat tip was enough.

you felt beads of sweat run down the sides of your neck as you stood still.

“bet me havin’ you like this is getting you all wet. knew you were always nasty for me.”

your eyes roll for a bit before you part your thighs a bit more.

toji makes you arch your back for him. he wraps a hand around his girth of a length before you feel him starting to realign himself.

a soft whine flew past your lips once he teasingly starts to slap his tip against your slick entrance.

“audacity,” he hisses in a low tone.

the base in his voice made you pulse—you felt so hot, the steam of the shower wafting in the air, ringing started to form in your ear from the droplets plopping down amongst the floor.

“…audacity to say ya hate me with a pussy this drenched.”

toji’s dirty talk never failed to make you throb, yearn desperately for more.

he was so filthy, his mouth was especially. he knew no bounds.

all he knew was rhat he could say just about anything to make you drip all right between your thighs.

rough hands of his roam all over your body before he brings your ass right up against him.

“f-fuck you,” you whine, his girth completely stretching you out. he was so big, it was almost too hard to fathom — too hard to process.

toji’s wet body rocked in such a sensual way, all it took was for him to wrap a hand around your neck, ghosting a middle finger near the passageway of your throat.

he leans up close to your ear, pivoting his hips before you’re met with a rude thrust. “you fuck like a girl.”

“you couldn’t be funny if you tried, girl,” he whispers, sneaking a kiss towards your neck. once you start being fucked behind by toji, he grunts at how the sheer ruthless smacks your ass feels. just thwacking and thwacking back against him in response. “yeah. try ‘n hide those pathetic moans from me.”

as he was pressed up against you, toji teasingly brings a hand towards your ass. you gasp, feeling the sharp sting his palm presents you.

he maintains a tempo before you moan, the thought of becoming fucked from behind turning into a reality for you.

he was all up close, even being a tease to bite against your neck—you moan once he pivots his hips just to reach that spot.

“nothing to say now, huh,” he scoffs, bringing two rough hands towards your ass.

you shiver from his touch, feeling the droplets of water that raced down him dance against your skin. for a few seconds, nothing but silence was your initial response before he chuckles. “hate me yet here you are. bent over of me like some slut.”

“s-shut up.” you grouse, the temple of your cheek being pressed up against the slick tile wall.

toji raspy laughs against your ear, “make me. oh right, you can’t.”

and his tone was filled with such tease—you moaned once he pulls your ass up a bit, getting such a thorough angle that he’s reaching so deep. you gripped back against him and it made you bite your tongue to not produce such loud whiney moans. “say ya hate me but y’er pussy says otherwise.”

he always sounded so sure of himself, the pure smoothness that ran off toji’s touch — it never failed to make you soak right between your legs.

his cock was so thick, you felt it reach just about every spot, every crevice with such ease. it left you with your maw practically dropped, such moans escaping your lips.

the way his vigorous hips maintained such speed. you whined, feeling your right thigh start to bounce. fingers of his wander against your skin, tracing the outline of your figure just to watch you shiver from his touch.

“such a sensitive girl,” he purrs, right beside your ear. you moaned, feeling the edge of his mouth, the side where his scar ran across his lip swipe gingerly against your cheek. toji’s so mean with his thrusts, it leaves your mind empty — brain just roaming with all kinds of filthy thoughts. “should see y’erself for me right now.”

he knew every inch of your body, every spot to make you tingle and whine out in pleasure. toji positions his hips in a way that you feel the girth, the stretch he continuously makes against your cunt. he groans, looking down to see how your slick departs from him again and again.

“fuckin’ messy,” he groans, and you feel the heftiness of his base thwack against you. just a simple gesture of that makes your ears rings before you arch just a bit more, dumbly moaning and whimpering for more. you sounded desperate, which you were. “looks like someone’s getting close.”

“t— toji,” you mewl, entire body being drenched from the water. toji too — his body heat radiated amongst you, him being so close and personal this much towards your body made you pulse.

he snickers, bringing a smack towards your ass. “don’t give me that. thought you hated me, baby.”

toji smiles, knowing you were probably pouting from his witty response. you felt multiple nerves stir up inside you, and your breathing started to becoming heavy and irregular.

each time his tip prodded against that particular spot, you let out a cute noise, chasing your incoming orgasm.

“jus’ let me cum,” you whined, fully disregarding what he was saying. you were so close—you squeezed your eyes shut for a brief moment, transmitting into a world of total ecstasy. toji brings his hands towards your waist, pressing two thumbs against your skin before he shoves you back and forth against him. he was so thick, your mouth remained open before you start whimpering, not knowing how long you could hold out. “pleasepleaseplease.”

“say pretty please,” he starts, and that’s when you feel his hips slow down. as his voice trails, you frown once his sudden sloppy pace goes to an abrupt halt. “in that cute voice of yours.”

you whine, clenching around him before murmuring out a sweet, “pretty please toji.”

“good girl,” he maunders lowly, his tone made you pulse — it was embarrassing. whenever he did that thing where he pitches his tone, the bass that hid behind it. especially whenever he praised you. toji fixes your posture, skimming a finger down your back before kissing the back part of your neck. “go ‘head. give it to me. i guess...”

you couldn’t see him, but you’d bet money he’d just given you an eye roll. once you came, it was so much — you moaned from the shockwaves that ran out of you. “f-fuckkkk,” you spat, convulsing all on his shaft.

even whilst standing up, your legs felt so numb. butterflies resided in your tummy, and once he let you compose yourself, he turns you around.

toji’s smirking at you visibly, and your eyes were all low and half lidded — you give him a glare before he leans in to kiss your neck and slowly raise your leg up against him. he whispers right against your skin a rasp, “uh huh. that’s what i thought.”

[cupcakeinat0r]

Thinkin abt Dad bod! Miguel again…

Relationship weight gain is kinda inevitable when both parties are in absolute love with each other, and Miguel, despite being a total specimen, is no exception to this.

By now, you and Miguel have been dating for quite a bit, and you noticed Miguel getting a lil chunky. Not something you protested. At all. In fact, you were living for it. Yea, Miguel was gorgeous with those rock hard abs and that slutty waist of his that you were beginning to envy, but once his dad bod came in… dayum.

Miguel, however, did feel slightly embarrassed about it all, even though you reminded him everyday that he’s literally the most gorgeous man. Ever. It wasn’t about him, though. He was more concerned about you; that you wouldn’t see him the same way anymore, but you didn’t mind reassuring him a million times that he is all you want and ever need. Plus, it’s a dad bod, literally the best bod, like, c’mon now.

You’d watch him walk around the house with sweatpants on and no shirt, perky pecs (you could’ve sworn he had more titty than you, Jesus Christ), chest hair, pumped arms, fluffy abdomen and a tiny peek of a happy trail that could make your womanhood quiver. All that on full display for you and only you to ogle at. God, he was gorgeous. You, lying in bed, would bite your lip at the piece of work in front of you. Miguel was hunched over on his computer, which he dwarfed with his hands and build, reviewing some lab reports. Your eyes traced along his muscles, some of his stretch marks, and the one or two rolls he had on his side. How can a man look so delicious even while working?

“Whatcha looking at, mama?” He doesn’t look up.

“Oh, nothing… just the most beautiful human being I’ve ever seen.”

He finally looks up from the computer and smiles at you.

“That’s all you, mamita.”

You smile back. You still get butterflies with this man. You reach your arms out.

“C’mere, come to bed. I need my teddy bear.”

He chuckles. “ya mismo, beba, I only have one more left. I’ll be right there.”

You drop your hands in defeat. He says only one more, but you knew it would take him at least like 30 minutes to look over those things. He likes to be real thorough with them. You loved that your man had brains, but sometimes you wish he would just relax once in a while.

An idea flickered in your mind.

“Baby…”

“Yea, mama?” He mumbles, eyes concentrated on his screen.

“…how many kids would you want?”

He immediately perks up. Oh, now you’ve got his undivided attention.

“Kids?” He says, almost a little too excited, “What made you think about that?”

“Ohhh, I dunno… it’s just that you’ve got this dad look goin’ and… it’s been making think, y’know?”

“‘Dad look’?” He says with a humored smile.

“Well yea… I really like it. You’re lookin husky and thick, it’s so… sexy.”

The computer has been officially closed. Your plan is working.

“Oh yea?” His voice becomes lower, more sensual, as he climbs onto bed, his gaze becoming hungry. Miguel towers over you until he settles down on the comforter, nestled up right next to you, his thick thigh draped over both of yours. He rests his burly arm over your stomach, pulling you even closer to his warm body. Now that he lays next to you on the bed, you feel way smaller against him. You loved that.

“Mhm… it’s hard to not picture you with our future kids when you’re walking around here lookin’ like that. I’d make you such a cute daddy.” You coo, your hands brushing against his chest, playing with the hair there, occasionally caressing down to his soft mid-section. “Aw, baby… and I’d make you such a beautiful mommy,” Miguel groans into your neck, placing a kiss there, his hand goes up under his t shirt you’re wearing, caressing circles on your stomach as he imagines a bump there, “fuck, just thinking about you being pregnant makes me hot.“ His hand moves up to grab one of your breasts, giving it a light squeeze, his index finger giving your bud some attention, “and these filled with milk? coño, no puedo esperar.” He moans, his voice strained.

“So how many you want, daddy? Name a number and I’ll give em’ to you.”

Miguel just looks at you dumbfounded. He doesn’t know whether to get emotional or just pin you to the bed and fill you up with his kid to get a head start on this family. He thinks he’ll choose the latter.

“Mamita, I want however many you can give me.” he grabs you by the chin and smashes his lips against yours in a tongue-eating kiss. “Mmgonna look so pretty all swollen for me.” He then placed himself in between your legs, completely caging you in his broad shoulders and arms, his belly brushing up against your stomach. It’s not the only thing you feel, as you also feel his thick hard on when his hips start grinding against your weeping cunt.

“Mi princesita wants to make me a daddy, huh?” He says in a mocking voice. You nod, making a timid noise, aroused by his dominance. You look down to see a wet spot on his sweatpants, his precum seeping through from your little daddy talk no doubt. His mouth sucks and nips at the delicate skin on your neck, your shirt being hastily raised, your now wet panties shortly following the shirt. You’re in for it now. A victorious smirk growing on your face knowing that that last report would be saved for another day.

“Baby, What about your report?”

“It can wait.”

Spoiler alert: He rails you like a dog in heat, cream pies you multiple times, and makes sure none of it goes to waste!!! <3333 u got what u wanted!!! Yay!!!

A/n: He is very gorjus to me, ur honor!!! <33333

Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!!!

[baronessvonglitter]

would you ever consider writing a deeper romantic relationship for the lovely couple from Daddy can fix it??💖 it’s sooo good

I hope you didn’t think I forgot about you 💕 I was so pleased to receive your ask. From one hopeless romantic to another, I hope you enjoy!

Daddy Does Drilling

Handyman! Joel x fem!plus size!Reader

Word count: 1.3K

Summary: what happens when you and Joel blur the line between business and pleasure..

I invite everyone to also read "Daddy Can Fix It" 🩵

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit. Reader is plus-size, wears apron and dress. Reader's age not mentioned so there is as much or as little of an age gap as you want. Unprotected piv (Joel is snipped). Oral (f receiving). Sarah and Ellie are mentioned but not named. Divorced Dad!Joel 🤭Slowly falling in love and not realizing it until it's too late. Mention of reader wanting a divorce from her husband. Also catty book club bitches.

"You're crazy, y'know that?" Joel whispers in your ear, his harsh whisper tickling your skin as he guides you up and down on his cock.

You grab the back of the sofa, nails digging into the soft upholstery as he plunges into your soaking wet pussy. "I had to do it," you giggle through your panting. "I couldn't stand my idiot husband doing all the work that you do better."

That earns you a slap on the ass, Joel's large hand giving it a firm grip after. "You're an insatiable lil' thing," he growls in your ear. "'Bout to wear me out."

You smirk up at the patched-up drywall, perfectly smoothed over by Joel's industrious and talented hands. Hands that are now grabbing your curves and molding your body to his. "Can you blame me? I'll never get enough of this cock!" Your sentence ends on a loud moan as he holds your hips steady and thrusts up into you hard and deep so you feel the steady brush of him up close to your cervix.

"Come on sweet thing, ya came twice already, you ready for a third?" Joel rasps in your ear. "Got my lap all fuckin' wet with this juicy pussy."

The moment he'd finished up with the wall you'd pounced on him, crushed your lips and your hips to his, delighted to find him already hard and ready. In the shortest amount of time ever, you both had shoved off and pulled aside whatever clothes were unnecessary and fucked right there on the sofa.

He's working you to your third orgasm, spoiling you, actually, holding back from his own pleasure because it's too much fun giving you yours, watching the beautiful expression on your face, the way your body shakes and trembles.

"There she is," he whispers as your sugar walls convulse around him, rhythmically squeezing his rigid cock, and that's when he lets himself explode, your pussy milking him for every drop he's got.

He's at your house every week, then twice a week, three times a week, until he's just there to fuck you and make you scream his name. No fixing of anything required.

Neither of you notices when things take a turn towards the soft, the sweet. He spends hours between your thighs, tasting and teasing you until you come multiple times, not just trying to get you off but trying to know you. Your time together is marked not by the quick, productive thrusts in positions you haven't tried since college, but in the lingering kisses and knowing stares, the confessions that spill from your lips, the honesty that is born of such intimacy as you've shared.

You find out that he's divorced, has two grown daughters, one married and the other away at university. He loves to work with his hands, that he has a natural knack for figuring out a solution to every problem, and persists until said problem is fixed. That's how he started his company.. and one day the ladies just started coming onto him.

Being older and single, he didn't let those chances pass him. The women he helped were lonely like himself, and if he could give them a bit of something to keep them happy even for a moment, he was glad to do it. It became a well-known secret among the housewives of the community of Royal Hill that he would provide good service at a decent price and give you the fucking of a lifetime if you asked politely.

He liked women, found their husbands to be idiots, more often than not. White collar limp dicks who think a G-spot is street slang for money. Some of them he got to know well: Amirah with the flawless umber skin and always smelled of jasmine; Isabelle who tip-tapped around her tiled home in impossibly high heels with ostentatious feathers on the straps and wore hardly anything under her sheer hot pink robe, also bedecked in feathers; Becky who was quite demanding and rude but submissive once she had a dick inside her.

Then came you. And you threw him for a loop.

You were more than you appeared: sweet, shy, pretty. Once he got you in bed you were a goddess, and the amazing thing was you already knew you were. You gave without asking anything in return.. but how could he ever deny you his strong hands, eager mouth, throbbing cock?

No one else had struck this feeling within him, no matter how many lonely housewives he visited, no matter how hard or rough or passionately he'd fucked any of them, they were just fun. Side quests, as his gamer brother would say.

He liked getting to know you, finding out who was the woman underneath the apron and the rosebud-patterned dress. You told him secrets no one else knew, and he found himself doing the same. You would call each other just to talk, to hear each other's voices when you couldn't be close.

What you didn't know was the impact it would have on the other housewives.

"He doesn't even come over himself anymore. His brother Tommy came by to fix the sink instead."

"Don't get me wrong.. Tommy's cute, but I wanted Joel."

"Daddy Joel."

You ignore the little group that's once again near the dessert table. You grab a couple of cucumber sandwiches and a chocolate-dipped madeleine, oblivious to their prattle.

"I don't know," Becky says pointedly. "His truck has been seen outside a certain someone's house a few days a week." She stops you before you can go back to your seat. "With the amount of time Joel's been at your home, you ought to have the most restored, revamped, upgraded home on the block," she says, brimming over with restrained attitude.

"What's going on?" she asks under her breath.

You can see the others are waiting for you to answer her, but for the first time ever you feel absolutely no need to appease them. You need to win them over like you need a hole in your head. "I don't know what you're talking about," you tell them, lying with ease.

"It's not nice to take up all his time," Becky says with an icy tone, staring you down as if looks could kill.

"Becky, is it just me, or are you jealous over a man you have to pay to fuck you?"

The others are stunned. No one has ever put Bitchy Becky in her place before. Not even she knows what to say.

"I think I'm done with this book club. I can read on my own at my house.. waiting on Daddy to fix whatever I need him to." With an angelic smile you drop the plate of treats back onto the table as you leave.

Walking out into the late afternoon sun you feel more free than you ever have before, as if a whole new chapter has started. The short walk to your house is pleasant, even more so when you see Joel's work truck in your driveway.

"Thought I missed ya," he says, his hands in his pockets as he walks from your front door.

"Fridays are for the book club," you explain, heart racing as you come close to him, and his arms go naturally around your waist. "But I quit. Can't really stand those snobby bitches."

You inhale the clean cotton scent of his red flannel, nuzzling your nose in his shoulder as he kisses the side of your head. "I don't want to do anything ever again that doesn't make me happy."

"So, lil' thing, what's gonna make ya happy right now?" he asks, a small grin playing across his lips.

Looking up at him, you realize Joel is the best choice you could have made. "I think I'm going to leave my husband. No.. I'm definitely going to leave my husband. But there's something else I want right now.."

"Good idea." His arms tighten slightly around you, as if to tether you to him. "And what would that be?"

"I want you to come inside.. you've got some drilling to do," you lead him by the hand and into your home.

dividers by @saradika 👑

[slimybeth69]

Pretty Pink Nails

Summary: Joel gets you a special treat while out on a supply run but it comes at a price. rating: explicitwarnings: (perceived) dark!Joel, dub-con/ referenced non-con, age gap (reader knows about nail polish/ joel is 50ish), pussy/dick pronouns.

"You ever see nail polish when you go out?" You sigh with a hint of sadness laced in your tone. Joel can see it all over your face, with your big eyes and softly furrowed brows.

Joel rubs his hands down your shins and his fingers tug mindlessly at the worn elastic of your threadbare socks. "I've never looked for it, darlin'." His eyes never leave your face as you continue your inspection of your dirty fingernails. "Why're you askin'?"

"Just wonderin'," you murmur, taking one last look at your hands before huffing quietly to yourself, letting them fall into your lap in what looks like defeat.

A hint of a smile plays across Joel's lips. "You want Daddy t'look next time he goes on a supply run?"

Your eyes dart to his face, already beaming as he wraps his hand around your delicate ankle. All you can do is nod excitedly and press the ball of your foot into the front of his jeans gently moving it up and down the soft bulge.

"Whatever my princess wants, she gets..." Joel's eyes drop down to watch you tease him. "Ain't that right?"

Truth is, Joel hasn't seen anything but dirty, unkempt fingernails wrapped around the thick girth of his cock for over twenty years. Not that he ever complained, it was a product of the environment. He noticed though; noticed how no one ever had the time to be so meticulous in their grooming habits to worry about it. His hardened heart softened at the innocence of your yearning.

It was hard for Joel to not do everything he could to put a smile on your face out here in the decay of what used to be a busy city that was full of life. Now it was almost a wasteland run by soldiers that he had to bribe to sneak him out to try and find you fucking nail polish.

Two weeks later you were in the tub, washing up before bed just like Joel had told you-- just like the good girl Joel trained you to be.

You hadn't always been so pliant in his demands for obedience, but he broke you eventually, and now you listen so well.

When he enters the bathroom and sits down on the edge of the tub, you smile up at him, the steamy, suds-less water does nothing to hide away the parts Joel has already memorized about you.

"Thanks for makin' dinner tonight, Daddy."

"You're so welcome, sweet girl." Joel leans down and presses a kiss to your damp forehead. "I got you somethin' else ya' can thank me for," he mumbles against your skin.

From the back pocket of his jeans he pulls out a plastic bristled brush to scrub your nails with, and a bottle of polish that's cotton candy pink with a slight shimmer.

Your eyes go wide, and they almost look like they're filling with tears as you take the gifts into your hands. You start to thank him again when Joel pushes his thumb into your mouth and presses the calloused pad onto your tongue.

"Now th'only way you get t'keep those is if you show Daddy how pretty them lil fingers look wrapped around him later. That sound fair, baby girl?"

"Yeth, Daddy." You lisp before your lips wrap around the knuckle of his digit, nodding as you swirl your soft, warm muscle around it slowly.

Joel pulls his hand away from your mouth with a soft, wet pop and stands. "Good. Now get all nice and prettied up, and you know where t'come find me when ya' ready." He winks at you before leaving you alone in the bathroom once again. Joel loves finding ways to take good care of his baby girl.

You take your time in the tub, carefully scrubbing your nails clean with the new brush Joel brought you. Excitement flutters in your belly as you apply the shimmery pink polish with a steady hand.

Once your nails are dry, you slip into your favorite silky nightgown, the one that barely skims your mid-thigh, another nice thing Joel surprised you with a while ago.

The fabric clings to your damp skin as you quietly pad into the living room where Joel is sitting in his armchair, one ankle resting on his knee as he cleans his revolver. He looks up when you enter, his eyes trailing over your naked body.

"There's my pretty girl," he purrs appreciatively, setting the gun aside as his eyes roam. "Come'ere and show Daddy them sweet lil' fingers."

You walk over to him, a sultry sway to your hips, and perch yourself on his lap. “Here ya’ go, Daddy.”

He takes one of your hands and studies your neatly polished nails, nodding in approval.

"Such a good job, baby. Now, remember what you promised..." His voice trails off suggestively as he guides your hand down to the stiffening bulge in his jeans.

You nod eagerly, your eyes locked on Joel's as your fingers trace over the shape of his hardening cock through the denim. "I remember. I want to make you feel so good, as a thank you for my pretty nails."

Joel groans approvingly, his hand covering yours and pressing it more firmly against him. "That's my good girl. Go on now, take him out."

With deft fingers, you unbutton his jeans and slowly tug down the zipper. Joel lifts his hips, allowing you to slide both his jeans and boxers down his, hairy, muscular thighs, freeing his thick, hard cock. It juts upward, the swollen head already drooling with a bead of precum.

"Thank you so much, Daddy," you purr lovingly, wrapping your small hand around his thick shaft, almost unable to close your fist around it. The shimmery pink of your nail polish is a stark contrast against his tanned skin as you start to stroke him slowly from base to tip.

Joel lets out a low groan, his head falling back against the chair. "That's it, sweetheart. Just like that," he encourages gruffly, his large hand coming to rest on your silk-clad thigh. “Spit on him, baby.”

You gather saliva in your mouth and let it drip slowly onto the head of Joel's throbbing cock. It dribbles down the shaft as you spread it with your fingers, making him slick and shiny.

"Good girl," Joel praises, his hand sliding higher up your thigh, pushing the silky fabric out of the way. "Get him nice and slippery."

You curl your fist around his girth again, and begin gliding your fist up and down, rotating your wrist because that's the way Joel showed you. The pink polish gleams in the low light as your hand works over his length.

"Fuck, baby," he grunts, his hips flexing up into your grip. "Love seein' him all wrapped up in your sweet lil' hand."

You preen under the praise, encouraged to tighten your grasp as you increase the pace. The wet sound of your stroking fills the room along with Joel's heavy breathing and occasional grunts of pleasure. His hand slides further up your thigh, pushing under the hem of your nightgown to cup your bare mound.

"Oh!" you gasp in surprise as his thick fingers delve between your already slick folds, playing teasingly over your sensitive clit. 

"Shh, keep goin' princess," he encourages, circling your nub slowly. "Wanna feel’er slick up my fingers while ya’ stroke him with them pretty hands."

“I want him inside,” you whimper needily but obey, pumping your fist faster over his rigid, throbbing cock, working him steadily and twisting on the upstroke and rubbing your thumb over his sensitive tip to spread the precum dribbling from his cock.

"Nuh uh," he tuts disapprovingly. "She ain't gonna get him inside now, not when ya’ wanna be a greedy girl. You just focus on makin' him feel real good with those hands Daddy worked so hard t’make pretty." To emphasize his point, he gives your cheek a light slap, just enough sting to make you whimper.

You pout but know better than to protest further, instead you double your efforts to please him. You fondle his heavy balls with your other hand as you pump his shaft, loving how powerful and masculine he feels.

Joel's fingers continue to toy with your soaked slit, occasionally dipping just the tips inside your fluttering hole but never giving you the satisfaction of filling you up like you crave. It's maddening, the way he keeps you on edge.

You moan desperately, grinding your hips down against his teasing fingers, trying to force them deeper. "Please Daddy, I need it... need you inside me so bad."

"Nah baby girl, this is what'cha get for bein' a needy lil' thing. You just focus on your task now." He captures your wrist, forcing you to squeeze him tighter as he thrusts up into your grip.

Tears of frustration prick at your eyes, but you’re well trained and determined to please him. You know if you're a good girl, he'll reward you eventually.

"Don't slow it down none," Joel groans. So you pour all your desperation into stroking him just how he likes, twisting and pumping.

His words encourage you to keep working Joel's cock faster and harder, desperate to earn his praise and your own release. His fingers continue to tease your dripping slit mercilessly, keeping you on the precipice without letting you tumble over.

"Daddy," you whine, grinding down against his hand. "I've b-been such a good girl, I need it, need you so bad..."

"Shh, patience now. You'll get what's comin' to ya." Joel's voice is a low growl, thick with lust. He lets you squirm and whimper for a moment longer before suddenly plunging two thick fingers knuckle-deep into your aching cunt.

"Oh fuck, thank you Daddy!" you cry out, walls clenching greedily around the welcome intrusion.

Joel’s hand connect with your cheek harder than last time, the burning sting ripping through your flesh. “Fix ya’ filthy mouth,” he growls, his fingers and thumb gripping your face and pushing your lips into a soft pout.

“M’sorry…” You whine quietly. “Please don’t stop…”

"There's my desperate girl.” Joel smirks at your desperation, fingers pumping in and out of your soaked cunt as you work him feverishly. "That's right baby, work for it. Make Daddy feel real good and maybe he'll let this hungry lil' pussy cum on his fingers."

You continue working Joel's massive shaft with your hand, your pretty pink nails looking so delicate wrapped around his thick girth. The contrast is mesmerizing to you both.

His fingers plunge in and out of your soaked, needy hole, curling to rub your most sensitive spots that Joel mapped out inside you long ago.

The combined sensations of Joel's fingers pumping inside you and the feeling of his thick cock throbbing in your hand are overwhelming. You're trembling with need, desperately trying to focus on pleasuring him while your own arousal builds to a fever pitch.

"Daddy, please," you whimper, your hips rocking against his hand. "I'm s-so close..."

Joel's eyes darken with lust as he watches you struggle to maintain control. "Not yet, princess. Gotta earn it first." Despite his words, he increases the pace of his fingers, thumb roughly circling your clit as he fucks you with his thick digits.

Your hand falters on his cock as pleasure courses through you.

"Don't you dare stop," Joel growls, his free hand gripping your wrist tightly. "Keep goin' or you don't get to cum at all."

Whimpering, you force yourself to focus, pumping him faster as your body trembles on the edge of release. Joel's breath comes in harsh pants, his hips bucking up into your grip.

"That's it, just like that," Joel groans, his eyes locked on your hand flying over his cock, pink nails a blur. "Gonna paint them pretty fingers white..."

His fingers curl inside you, rubbing insistently against your g-spot as his thumb circles your clit. The pleasure is almost unbearable, but you fight against your impending orgasm, knowing you'll be punished if you cum without permission.

"Please Daddy," you beg breathlessly. "I can't hold it much longer..."

"Just a little more, darlin'," Joel grunts, his cock swelling in your grasp. "Daddy's almost there..."

You stroke him faster, desperate for release. Your wrist aches but you don't dare slow down. Joel's fingers pump in and out of your dripping pussy relentlessly, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

Finally, with a guttural groan, Joel's hips jerk upward. "Fuck, baby... Cum for me. Now."

At his command, you unravel. Your walls clench rhythmically around his fingers as your orgasm tears through you. At the same time, Joel's cock pulses in your grip, spurting thick ropes of cum over your hand and wrist.

Your body shudders while Joel's fingers continue to work inside you as you milk every last drop of his release onto your trembling hand. The pearlescent strands of cum stand out starkly against your pink nails, and you can't help but stare in fascination.

"That's my good girl," Joel rumbles, his voice thick with satisfaction. He slowly withdraws his fingers from your quivering pussy, bringing them up to your lips. "Clean 'em off for me, sweetheart."

Obediently, you part your lips and take them into your mouth, sucking and licking him clean of your own juices. Joel watches you intently, his eyes have that dark, hooded look you've gotten grown to love rather than despise.

"Such a pretty lil thing," he murmurs, using his free hand to brush a strand of hair from your flushed face. "Now, why don't you keep showin' your Daddy how much you appreciate your new nail polish by cleanin' up the mess you made, hmm?"

You nod eagerly, sliding off his lap and kneeling between his spread thighs. With reverent care, you begin to lick the cooling strands of cum from your fingers and palm, making sure to maintain eye contact with Joel as you do so. His breath hitches as he watches you, his spent cock twitching with interest.

"That's it, baby," he encourages, running his fingers through your hair. "Get it all. Don't want to waste a drop of Daddy's gift, do we?"

You shake your head, “Nuh uh,” you mumble, continuing to lap at your hand until every trace of his release is gone.

Joel groans, his grip tightening in your hair. "Want Daddy t’paint ya’ cute lil toes next?"

this is me taking a swing (and probably missing) at a (semi) dark!Joel fic.

it was heavily inspired by Clean, written by @strang3lov3

thanks for inspiring me to write what I want lady, I appreciate you <3

thank you @saradika-graphics for the dividers and everything else. you're amazing.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Day 22: Ripped stockings

Fandom: Gravity Falls

Character: Stanley Pines

Warnings: dry humping, semi-public sex

A/n: Happy Birthday to me! { of course my favorite character is on my b-day }

"It was nice of Ford to watch the twins." You hummed as Stan tugged you close giving you a wink and a small chuckle.

"Well anythin for my doll...gotta spoil ya on your birthday." He stated.

It was a long night, but something you were grateful for. Stan always knew how to spoil you, how to make you happy. The man would do anything for you and you the same.

Tilting your head to the side, Stan kept his arms around your hips. "What are you lookin at Stan?"

"You, can ya blame a guy? I got the hottest wife around."

Humming, you stepped close as your gaze darkened for a moment pressing your body against his own, your fingers ran down his chest. "Is that so? I can say the same about you Stan...my sexy husband."

"Now what did ya what for ya birthday...I'll get ya anything ya want."

Standing on your toes, your lips brushing against the corner of his lips. "I want ya to fuck me."

Eyes going wide, Stan glanced around giving your hips a squeeze. "You little minx." He whispered quickly tugging you into alley, hands on your hips as his nails dug into your stockings.

"You're not gonna be able move when I'm done fuckin ya." He whispered.

A whine escaped your lips, nails digging into his shoulders as you felt his knee press into your clothed core, your husband rubbing hard as he then pulled you in for a deep kiss.

His tongue gliding across yours, the clicking off the buckle. Sharp intake of your breath as you felt Stan's cock slowly push in your warmth. A deep grunt escaping his lips the moment he broke this kiss as he buried his face into your neck.

Hands grasping your hips, he hiked your legs around him as he pressed your back against the wall as he nipped and sucked at your neck slowly thrusting into you. His thrusts slow, teasing you, ignoring your soft cries, begging him to move faster.

Your head resting against the wall as you tried to ride his cock, tried to make him move his hips faster.

"Stan please." You begged as you tightened your legs around his hips.

A chuckle escaped his lips, a scruff of his face brushing your neck as he grasped your stocking. Tearing more holes in the fabric, nearly pulling them off your body as he slipped his cock in and out of your pussy. A shudder gliding down his spine feeling your walls clench tightly around his cock. Your gaze meeting his as he held you close.

"We got all night darlin."

[blackenedsnow]

Heyy, if you’re comfortable doing so could I please get some Beetlejuice x fem!reader who’s a single mom? Just pretty much him being soft and comforting letting her know she’s doing a good job etc? Thank you in advance 💕💕💕 can be a proper fic or headcanons I’ll let you decide xx

beyond it

WARNING: References to the stress of single motherhood

PAIRING: Beetlejuice x Single Mother! Reader

NOTE: I absolutely loved writing this!! I hope you enjoy this, and thank you so much for the request 💕💕

SUMMARY: Beetlejuice surprises you by being a source of comfort, helping you see that you’re doing better than you give yourself credit for.

It was late—too late for you to still be up. But as a single mom, you didn’t have the luxury of falling into bed as soon as the day ended. No, there were dishes to clean, laundry to fold, and tomorrow to worry about. And of course, your child had woken up twice already, needing reassurance from a nightmare.

You were running on fumes, slumped on the couch, your face buried in your hands. It felt like all you ever did was work. Just when you thought you could finally close your eyes and sleep, your thoughts picked up again—worrying about what needed to be done tomorrow, whether you were doing enough, whether your child was okay.

“Hey, dollface, rough night?”

This fucking guy.

That voice—raspy, familiar—cut through the fog of exhaustion like nails on a chalkboard. Beetlejuice. You didn’t bother looking up. He was probably lounging in his usual spot, perched on the armrest of your couch with a stupid grin plastered on his face.

"Go away, BJ," you muttered half-heartedly. "Not tonight."

The ghoul groaned dramatically. "Aw, come on! And here I thought we were past the whole 'piss off, Beej' stage of our relationship." You felt a cold presence next to you, then his hand—decaying yet surprisingly gentle—lightly brushed your shoulder. "I mean, after all the times I’ve stuck around, don’t I get any appreciation?"

You exhaled sharply, finally lifting your head. "Appreciation? For what, exactly?"

"For being a goddamn delight, babes!" Beetlejuice beamed, leaning back against the couch and spreading his arms wide. "For hanging around when no one else does. Gotta say, not a lot of folks could handle a single mom with your level of stress."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't hide the tiny smile tugging at your lips. "If by 'hanging around,' you mean constantly being a nuisance, then yeah, sure."

Beetlejuice chuckled, his voice rough yet oddly soothing. His eyes, usually wild and manic, softened just a bit as they focused on you. “Ah, you love it. Don’t lie, babe.”

You shook your head, sinking deeper into the couch. "I’m just… tired, Beej. I'm really tired."

For once, he didn’t launch into another sarcastic quip. Instead, Beetlejuice shifted closer, his body language relaxed but attentive. “Yeah, I know. I can see it. You’ve been runnin' yourself ragged for, what, weeks? Months?”

Your eyes welled up, but you quickly blinked the tears away. “I just… I feel like I’m not doing enough. There’s always something I’m missing, something I should be doing better.”

Beetlejuice’s hand rested fully on your shoulder now, his touch surprisingly solid. "Oh, come on, you're killing it out here, babe. You think your kid’s got it bad? They've got you. And lemme tell ya, you’re doing a hell of a job. Better than most."

You glanced over at him, surprised by his sincerity. "Really? You think so?"

“Are you kidding? Babe, I see it. I see you juggling work, taking care of the kid, making sure they're happy. And yeah, it’s messy and chaotic, but guess what? They're fine. They're happy, ‘cause you’re busting your ass for 'em.” He leaned in a little closer, his expression for once free of mischief. “You’re doin' more than enough."

His words hit you hard, in a way you hadn’t expected. You didn’t know why, but hearing it from Beetlejuice—someone who you never thought would care about anything—meant something. It eased the tight knot that had been sitting in your chest all day.

“I just don’t want to mess them up,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. “They deserve better than… than this.”

"Whoa, whoa, slow down there, sweetheart." Beetlejuice’s voice softened. He slipped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in close. “They've got you, and that’s more than enough. You’re not perfect—who the hell is?—but you're trying. And that's what matters. Trust me, when they grow up, they're gonna see that.”

You allowed yourself to lean into him, resting your head against his chest. His suit smelled like a mix of dirt and decay, but there was something oddly comforting about the way he held you, like he was actually trying to be there for you, to support you in his own weird way.

“Hey, tell you what,” he said, his voice low. “Next time you feel like crap, I’ll stick around. We’ll cause some shit together, huh? Might help take the edge off.”

You chuckled softly, wiping at your eyes. “Yeah, maybe.”

Beetlejuice grinned, but it wasn’t the mischievous, cocky smirk you were used to. It was softer, almost tender. “You’re doin' good, doll. Don’t let anyone—including yourself—tell you otherwise.”

You looked up at him, and for the first time since he’d shown up in your life, you realized how much you appreciated him. Not just as the obnoxious ghost who wouldn’t leave you the fuck alone, but as someone who—despite his crude humor and questionable ethics—actually cared. Maybe not in the typical way, but in a way that mattered.

"Thanks, Beej," you whispered, closing your eyes as you let the exhaustion finally catch up to you. "I mean it."

Beetlejuice stayed quiet for a moment, just holding you close. "Anytime, babe. Anytime."

[darlingdaisyfarm]

hurt/comfort with mullet!Stan

You’re leaning into him, practically melting in the warmth of his arms, but the weight on your heart isn’t lifting. Stan shifts beside you, so undeniably present, like he’s willing to be your anchor, even if he doesn’t know how to say it. The old couch creaks under you both, the whole shack silent except for the soft crackling of the cigarette you share between fingers, trading embers and breaths.

Stan’s brow furrows as he takes a slow drag, glancing over at you. You know his eyes are watching, obviously he’s studying you.

Finally, he shifts and says bluntly, “you’re wound up tighter than a cheap watch, ya know? somethin’ gnawin’ at you, huh?”

You exhale, watching the thin line of smoke spiral up. “Yeah. . . you could say that.” the ache in your chest tightens. Everything you’re carrying feels so complicated, like tangled threads you can’t even begin to sort through.

Stan just watches you, thinking, then he takes another drag and hands the cigarette back to you, nodding toward it. “Ain’t gonna solve a damn thing if you’re just gonna sit there and look miserable, sweetheart. Might as well get it off your chest.”

You manage a small laugh, bitterness slipping into the sound. “It’s. . . it’s just a lot, Stan. I don’t know where to start.”

Stan pulls you closer, resting his arm along the back of the couch. “Look, I ain’t no therapist, but sittin’ here mopin’ like a lost puppy ain’t gonna do jack. Spill it. Even if I’m a crap listener, you’re gettin’ it out, yeah?”

You look at him, into his dark brown eyes and find nothing, but pure worry here, even if his rough voice doesn’t match his care, somehow that’s still exactly what you need. A presence, even if he’s not exactly gentle about it. It’s the only kind of reassurance he knows how to give.

“I just. . . keep feeling like nothing I do is ever enough. No matter how hard I try, everything just feels like it’s slipping out of my control,” you confess, voice a little shaky.

Stan’s thumb brushes along your shoulder as he pulls you in tighter. His voice, when he speaks, is softer but laced with his usual rough honesty. “Well, first off, quit thinkin’ you gotta have it all together. Life ain’t a freakin’ checklist. You’re allowed to screw up, you’re allowed to be a mess. Hell, look at me, if I can keep goin’ after all the crap I’ve pulled, you’re more than allowed to trip over your own feet once in a while.”

He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead and somehow it makes you feel better. He may not have all the answers, but he’s here and that matters.

Your voice is small when you say, “but I don’t wanna screw up, I feel like I’m letting everyone down.”

Stan grunts, his tone turning a little sharper. “Listen, you’re human. People who care about you ain’t gonna ditch ya just ‘cause you’re strugglin’. And if they do, fuck ‘em. They’re the ones missin’ out on the best damn person I know. Hell, you’re more than enough just as you are.”

A warmth blossoms in your chest, breaking through the ache, his words unexpectedly softening the edges of your pain. You look at him, really look, and see the sincerity buried beneath that gruff exterior.

His hand comes up to brush along your cheek, thumb grazing your skin. “You got a good heart, sweetheart. Don’t let anyone, including yourself, tell ya otherwise. If you keep beatin’ yourself up for not bein’ perfect, you’re just gonna make yourself miserable.”

For a moment, there’s nothing but the two of you and the soft glow of his affection wraps around you like a blanket. You lean in, resting your head on his shoulder, feeling his steady heartbeat against you. Stanley sighs, letting his hand drift down your back in slow, comforting strokes.

You’re quiet, breathing him in, the warmth of his skin, the smoky scent of his clothes. And then, in a low murmur, he adds, “You think life’s about havin’ it all figured out? Pfft. Life’s about fallin’ on your ass, pickin’ yourself up, and keepin’ goin’ ‘cause that’s what makes you strong. The way I see it? You’ve already got that part down.”

You let out a shaky laugh, the sound a bit wet with unshed tears. “You make it sound so. . . simple.”

Stan chuckles. “Ain’t sayin’ it’s easy, kid. Just sayin’ you’re tougher than you think. And if ya ever forget that, I’ll be right here to remind ya.”

Stanley leans in and presses a soft kiss to your cheek, his hand cradling the back of your head. You close your eyes, letting yourself sink into the moment, his roughness somehow grounding you in a way you hadn’t realized you needed.

“You’re somethin’ special, don’t let anyone, including yourself, make ya think otherwise.”

and then Stan grins, tipping your chin up to meet his gaze. “And if anyone’s got a problem with that, they can answer to me.”

[ksakiswh0re-xo]

✧ cockwarming draken while you study :

cw: fem reader, cockwarming, draken teasing, dirty talk/praise, hair-pulling, backshots, spanking, big dick warning lolol

wc: 634

Imagine cockwarming Draken while you study. You're sitting on your bed with your laptop and books all around you and you're naked from the waist down as you try to focus on taking your notes, but it's hard because all you can think about is how deep his fat cock is nestled inside your warm hole.

He's got an arm wrapped around your waist, making sure that you don't move as he watches your screen over your shoulder while you type.

Experimentally, he gives you a little nudge just because he loves to see you fall apart for him so easily. He smirks and nips at your ear when you whine and your fingers fall from the keyboard and onto his thigh.

"Keep typing. Be a good girl for me. Gunna ace this test, aren't ya, baby?"

You're too dumb to talk so he grabs your jaw and squeezes, making you face him as he moves your head up and down in a nod.

"I know you are, because you're my smart girl, after all. Get to it, baby, so I can fuck this sweet pussy just how she needs to be fucked."

—-

“Focus.”

Draken growls into your ear as he kneels behind you, balls deep in your cunt.

You’re bent over your laptop taking a quiz, breasts dangling heavily beneath you and almost touching the keyboard from the mean arch that your boyfriend has you in.

“‘m focused, Ken…” Your voice wobbles as does your hand; your mouse shakily hovers over a wrong answer before you suck in a breath and correct it.

“That was a close call, but you caught it, baby. Look at you, you’re doing such a good job.”

He spanked your butt a couple of times then rubbed the supple flesh with his big hands.

“I-I’m done…” The quiz was now submitted: you scored 100%.

Draken’s grin grew wider, showcasing two rows of perfect white teeth that you could see reflected in your laptop screen.

“Good fucking girl.”

He moved over you to close the computer lid and slide it onto the floor, pushing himself even further against your womb before he eased about half of his length out.

“Put the rest of that shit on the floor,” Draken commanded, referring to your multiple books, pens, and highlighters.

You hurriedly brushed the items off the edge of the bed, some of the pens rolling across the hardwood while Draken grabbed your hair up into a makeshift ponytail and began fucking into you relentlessly.

“Ah ah ah ah! Ken!”

The bed squeaked and rocked, the headboard banging loudly against the wall that was sure to have your neighbors pissed at you, but how could you care when you were getting the best fucking reward? Literally.

Draken slowed down and eased himself in and out of you to let you hear the squelch of your wet pussy a few times before he was buried deep once again.

“Shit girl, your greedy pussy is squeezing me so fucking tight.”

Something in him snapped, and the next thing you knew, his entire weight was pressing down on you as he pulled your arms behind your back and held your wrists against your ass.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Draken pummeled your pussy with ferocity until the both of you were moaning each others’ names out and spiraling into mind-numbing orgasms.

Finally, you were released and your fatigued body collapsed into the soft mattress. 

You could still feel your legs twitching while simultaneously your cunt contracted, releasing a thick gush of Draken’s cum.

Soft pecks were then pressed into your sweaty back until you rolled over to face your handsome lover, eyes fluttering dangerously as the urge to sleep swept over you.

“Rest for now. When you wake up, we’ll be on to the next subject.”

[hazbinshusk]

day nineteen of salem's unofficial attempt at kinktober: cockwarming/in the workplace (blitz x reader)

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

“Moxxie, I swear to fucking Satan that if this ain’t life or death I’m gonna come out there and fuck that little red hole of yours.” Blitzø snarls under his breath, and your own breath hitches as he shifts his hips up slightly. The movement presses his cock deeper into you, and your fingers grip the edge of the desk in response. He raises his voice, his arm wrapping around your waist to keep you in place on his lap. “Give me a fuckin’ minute!”

“Sir, I—” the door opens incrementally, slamming shut again when Blitzø grabs the nearest object on his desk – a mug full of broken pencils – and hurls it against the wood. The cup shatters, and you jump at the sound, a moan catching in your throat at the way it bounces you on his cock.

You can hear Moxxie complaining about his treatment on the other side of the door, but Blitzø growls, the rumbling, possessive sound making you shiver. “Oh… you liked that, didn’t you, whore?”

You can’t help it; you nod.

Blitzø has had you on his lap for the better part of an hour, his thick, hard cock buried deep in your cunt. It was driving you crazy – every tiny shift of his hips up into yours as he went through the motions of sorting through client files. Any time you made move to relieve the stretching ache between your thighs, he’d dig his claws into your thigh, sink his teeth into your shoulder.

“You wanna fuck me so bad, don’t ya?”

“You’re such an asshole, Blitz.”

He snickers, trailing the spade of his tail up between your thighs, the tip teasing under the hem of your skirt to play against your sensitive flesh. You whimper, eyes squeezed closed as you desperately try to slow your breathing. Blitzø rocks his hips up against yours, grinning against the back of your neck when you gasp.

“Yooooou love it, bitch.”

“Just… just let me cum. Please, Blitz.”

He hums teasingly against the side of your throat, the sound vibrating into your skin. You feel his brush his lips just barely against the nape of your neck, and your eyes roll towards the ceiling for a moment at the feeling of it.

“Awww… I thought you could ‘handle anything I threw at you’,” he taunts, claws grazing up the side of your thigh to your hip. It lifts the hem of your skirt with it, exposing your cunt, stuffed with his cock, to the office. Somehow the exposure makes it all the more intense - the cool air of the air conditioning caressing your bare skin... the risk that now, if one of the others decided to enter his office...

They'd see everything. They'd see just how good your boss's cock looked buried in your pussy.

He still barely lets you move; the soft rocking of his hips enough to set you on edge as it makes it feel as though he's swelling inside you. Each slow nudge against your g-spot makes sparks swirl in your stomach, and your nails dig hard into the edge of his desk as you fight to keep yourself steady.

“Don’t tell me you’re tappin’ out already.”

You groan, and Blitzø laughs again, his fingertips just barely brushing against your clit. “Fuck…”

“And I’ve got sooooo much I wanna do to you, princess.”

[boyfriendstevie]

may i humbly request…. 15. Character A hiding their face into Character B’s shirt because they can’t keep the noises at bay, and hoping to God they’re not being too loud. i can’t think of anything to keep it wintery but… maybe a handsie moment at a work christmas party? hehe whatever u like!

Jay my angel baby love <333 thank u for this & im sorry it took so long, pls enjoy having to be quiet while staying at the harrington household ft menace Steve hehe; 18+!!! mdni!!! fem!reader, fingering, hand job, use of nicknames like good girl

-

“Baby…” Steve coos softly from somewhere next to you. It’s hard to tell… hard to focus. All you know is that his body is pressed to yours, and he’s got two long fingers in your cunt. “Gotta be quiet, honey. Don’t want anyone to hear you, do you?”

Being home for the holidays is always nice, but staying with family makes things difficult. In a number of ways, but it makes being intimate with your boyfriend particularly challenging. And after staying with your family for a number of days, in a small house where sound would definitely travel, you’re feeling pent up when you make it to the Harrington household. It didn’t take long for you to excuse yourselves to Steve’s old room where you were staying, and end up under the covers together. 

A kiss presses to the crook of your neck as you shake your head, Steve’s breath hot against your skin. You’ve only been at it for a few minutes, but between the kisses and all of his attention, you already feel like you’re going to melt, and besides, you don’t have much time anyway. You whimper again and his hand stills as he huffs out a quiet laugh and says, “Babe, I’m serious… can’t have my parents catching us.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” you whine, squirming under his touch as his free hand roams up your torso to cup your breast, squeezing not-so-gently, “I’ll be quiet, please don’t stop, just— need you, please—“

You can feel the curve of his lips on your shoulder and he shushes you again, this time more reassuringly as his fingers curl inside of you, “I gotcha, baby, shhhhh.”

But then, his hand pulls away completely as he shifts away from you, leaving you clenching around nothing and hissing his name angrily, “Steve! What the fu—“

Your complaint dies on your lips as he rearranges both of you so you’re on your side facing him, only mere centimeters separating you. One of his arms curls around your shoulders to hold you close while the other maneuvers between your bodies until his hand can cup your cunt, the palm of his hand brushing against your clit. His middle and ring finger dip between your folds to find your dripping entrance, fingertips circling it lightly. Teasingly.

Before you can complain again, his fingers ease into you, making you sigh softly, a quiet, content noise. Your leg hitches over his hip as you press closer, relaxing against him. Steve noses against your temple, a small laugh escaping his own lips as his fingers push deep, “Told ya I gotcha, honey.”

“Mhm,” you breathe out absentmindedly, all high-pitched and whiny in your attempt to stay as quiet as you can, which feels nearly impossible with his fingers fucking in and out of you. Especially hard when his fingers spread wide, stretching you open for him. His thumb finds your clit with practiced ease, rubbing over it in just the right way, making your hips roll into his touch. 

He keeps saying you can’t be too loud, but it seems like he’s doing everything in his power to make you fall apart, to make the loudest moans possible fall from your lips, “Stevie— fuck, Steve, need—“

A particularly loud moan escapes you, and you instantly worry he’ll stop again, but instead, his arm curls and tightens around your shoulders, pulling you into his hold. Your face presses against his chest, the fabric of his pajama shirt soft on your cheek. When you moan again, this time at the way his fingers crook, brushing against the most sensitive spot inside of you, the sound comes out muffled into Steve’s chest. You can hear the smirk in his voice as he asks, “Feel good, baby? That’s what you wanted, huh? Such a good girl, letting me know exactly how you feel.” 

Steve’s words, the smug sound in his voice, makes you whine again, though it’s barely audible against his chest. Your own fingers curl around one of Steve’s biceps, digging into his skin a bit more harshly than you intend to, though he doesn’t seem to mind, reveling in the reactions and noises he can draw out of you from his fingers alone. You’re desperate to cum after so long, and you’re so close, the coil in your gut twisting tighter and tighter, but you still need more. But he knows you better than you know yourself, and so before you can even ask, a third finger pushes into your tight heat. 

With his thumb rubbing small, quick circles on your clit, and his fingers pumping in and out of you, pleasure twists in your tummy. You clench around his fingers, face buried into your boyfriend’s chest as you finally tip over the edge. Your body writhes against his, moaning and whining into Steve’s chest, and you distantly hope that you’re not being too loud, though you can’t find it in yourself to care too much. 

“That’s a girl,” Steve hums, kissing along your jaw and neck as you come back down from the high. The leg hitched over his hip shakes and Steve pulls his hand from your center to grab at your thigh, squeezing your flesh gently, “Y’alright?”

“Yes,” you murmur softly in reply, face hot against the fabric of his shirt, “Your turn? Been too long…” You trail off as you move just enough to get your hand under Steve’s boxers. Precum leaks from his tip, and he hisses loudly as your thumb rubs over his slit, spreading the wetness down the length of his cock. 

Your fingers wrap around the base, and you stroke him once — just enough to pull a deep groan from his chest. You’re more than pleased, and a little smug, as you repeat the same thing he’d said to you earlier, “Gotta be quiet, love, yeah?” 

“Shut up,” he laughs, jaw clenching when you squeeze him gently, “Maybe I need to hide my face in your chest, too.”

“Be my guest,” you grin at him, free hand tangling into the hair at the back of his head, pulling him in closer for a kiss that leaves both of you dizzy.