gildedcupid - Tumblr blog

gildedcupid · 2 months ago

Text

armed and dangerous | d.w

݁ ⏜ ꒰ 𝓦𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ꒱ ── SMUT!, Gunplay, praise kink, no pnv, overstimulation, squirting, porn w/o plot, gentle firmness. ๑ ֹ ₊ㅤ ۟

݁ ⏜ ꒰ 𝐏𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 ꒱ ── Experienced!Dallas x Sweetheart!Fem!Reader ๑ ֹ ₊ㅤ ۟

You jolted the second the cold metal touched your thigh.

“Easy,” Dallas murmured, shifting up onto his elbow beside you, one big hand smoothing over your stomach and pressing you gently back into the mattress. “Don’t squirm, sweetheart. I got you.”

“Can’t help it,” you breathed, lashes fluttering. “It’s really cold, Dal..”

“I know, baby. That’s the point.”

His voice was low. Steady. Like a calm anchor in the middle of your stormy chest. The weight of his palm against your belly held you still, not harsh, but enough to remind you he was in control. That he wanted you still. Soft. Spread out and trusting for him.

“You’re shakin’ already,” he whispered, brushing your trembling inner thigh with the back of his hand. “So sensitive. So worked up and I haven’t even done nothin’ to you yet.”

You whimpered, hips twitching, but his hand came down again, this time holding you by your waist, grounding you.

“Uh-uh,” he scolded, soft but firm. “No runnin’ now. You said you trust me, right?”

You nodded quickly, almost too quickly. “I do. Promise i do, I’m just—”

“Nervous. I know.” He smiled like it was the best thing he’d ever heard. “That’s what makes it so fuckin’ sweet.”

Then the barrel of the pistol slid up through your folds. slow, slick, and cold enough to make you cry out. Your legs jerked, instinct kicking in, but Dallas was already leaning over you, both hands on your hips now, pinning you down in place.

“Stay still for me, baby,” he murmured. “Just let me show you how good I can make you feel.”

The metal circled your clit again, and you bit your lip so hard it trembled. Your hands clawed at the sheets, thighs twitching beneath his grip.

“You’re bein’ so brave,” he whispered. “So good. Look at how wet you are for me. You’re shakin’, but you ain’t tellin’ me to stop. You want this. Poor baby, look at ya.”

You nodded helplessly, eyes glassy. You didn’t know if you were going to cry or cum .. maybe both.

“That’s it,” he coaxed, moving the gun in slow, rhythmic strokes over your clit. “Take it for me. Doing so amazin’ f’me.”

Your body snapped tight beneath him, every muscle locking as heat surged low in your belly. You sobbed, legs kicking against the mattress as your orgasm crashed into you; but it then kept going. Wetness spilled out of you in sudden waves, your thighs sticky and slick, your whole body trembling uncontrollably.

Dallas’s breath hitched. He watched it happen like he was starved for it. Like you were some holy thing breaking apart just for him.

“Goddamn,” he rasped. “Shit, baby, you made a mess.”

You tried to turn your head, overwhelmed and red-faced, but his hand caught your cheek.

“Don’t hide,” he said, more serious now. “Look at me. You hear me? You were fuckin’ perfect.”

Your legs kept twitching. He didn’t move his hand from your stomach, keeping you still, holding you down with that same strong, gentle grip.

“You ain’ done,” he whispered, kissing your temple. “You can give me one more. I know you can.”

And you nodded, breathless and wide-eyed, letting him take you apart again.

gildedcupid 𖤍 2025

reblogs & interactions are greatly appreciated & keep me motivated !

#dallas winston #the outsiders #dallas winston x reader #experienced!dallas #dallas winston smut #sweetheart!reader #x reader #the outsiders x reader #smut #matt dillon #﹒⌗﹒juneslie writes ⸝⸝#praise #gunplay

113 notes · View notes

gildedcupid · 2 months ago

Text

touch me like a gangster | j.k

݁ ⏜ ꒰ 𝓦𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ꒱ ── SMUT!, degradation kink, praise kink, age gap, dacryphilia, hair pulling, unprotected sex, porn w plot. ๑ ֹ ₊ㅤ ۟

݁ ⏜ ꒰ 𝐏𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 ꒱ ── Dbf!James kelly x Bratty!Fem!Reader ๑ ֹ ₊ㅤ ۟

The backyard was packed, just like every year — neighbors you barely remembered, kids running around barefoot, classic rock humming low from the speakers your dad insisted still worked just fine. Same setup, same smell of burgers on the grill, same warm beer being handed around like gold. Yet, of course, he was here.

James Kelly. Your dad’s best friend.

Former military. He looked like someone who’d never let himself go, even when everyone else started giving up. Tan from working outside, lines at the corners of his eyes from years spent in sun and smoke.

He didn’t belong here. Not really.

Too serious. Too quiet. Too... aware.

You noticed him as soon as you stepped outside, but you waited. Let the moment stretch, let him talk with the other men, let your dad laugh at his own stories. You stood near the patio door, sipping something too sweet and watching over the rim of your cup.

He hadn’t looked at you yet. Not really. But when he finally did, it was unmistakable.

One glance. A pause. A second too long before his gaze snapped away.

You knew what he saw — you’d chosen everything you were wearing with precision. One of his old shirts you used to sleep in as a kid, now cut up into a cropped tee. Hair tucked behind your ear. A little sweat on your neck, a little shine on your skin. You weren’t subtle. You didn’t care.

Because James had been looking at you differently since last summer. It wasn’t obvious — never anything anyone else would notice — but *you* did. The longer stares. The tense silences. The way he always seemed just on the edge of saying something and pulling back.

And if he thought ignoring it was going to make it go away, he was wrong.

You waited until your dad walked off toward the grill before you finally made your move. casual. As if you were just getting another drink. Except you weren’t. You stopped next to the cooler he stood beside, leaned down slower than necessary, cracked open a can, and didn’t look at him until the second you straightened up.

“Didn’t think you still came to these things,” you said, looking up at him through full, thick lashes, as you brought the can to your plump lips.

“Didn’t think you did,” he replied. His voice was even, but quiet; the kind of quiet that carried weight. “Figured you’d be off doing better things.”

You shrugged. “Guess I still like watching dads get drunk and try to one-up each other with stories from the '90s.”

He huffed a small laugh, but didn’t fully smile. Just looked down at the bottle in his hand.

“You’ve changed,” he said after a moment, not quite meeting your eyes.

“Yeah,” you said, watching him carefully. “I grew up.”

His jaw flexed, and he took a slow drink. “I noticed.”

There was a long pause after that. Long enough to make your chest tighten in anticipation. Long enough to wonder if he was going to move — step away, change the subject, pretend you hadn’t just crossed a line.

Instead, his eyes flicked down — quickly, almost reluctantly — then back to your face.

“You shouldn’t wear that around here.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Why? Thought you would like it.”

He didn’t blink. “I do, but, so do these other guys.”

That hit. Not playful. Not teasing. Just flat honesty. It should’ve cooled you down, yet it didn’t.

“Hm.. You jealous?” you said, letting the words hang between you. “I mean, gosh, you’re usually so confident; What happened to that? Scared these other guys gonna get to me before you do, James?”

His jaw was tight. You could practically feel the restraint in his posture — the way he didn’t look at your legs, your lips, your neck. The way he looked *through* you instead. Controlled. Calculated. Like he’d trained himself not to react.

“You’re pushing it.” he said finally. Low. Not angry. Just... careful.

You tilted your head, your voice barely above a whisper. “And you’re not stopping me.”

That silence that followed said more than anything either of you could’ve spoken.

But then he cleared his throat, looked back toward the house, and took a step back like someone had just snapped their fingers and broken the spell.

“Keep it up,” he said, voice rough again — distant. “See what happens.”

You smiled. You knew what you were getting yourself into, and gosh, you couldn’t lie; you were excited. You bit your lower lip, the plush pink skin being tugged at ever so gently by your teeth. Your bottom lip was soon released, now, instead of biting; it was pushed out. A sweet pout came from you as you continued to stare through sweet lashes.

“Oh don’t be bitter.” You giggle through your words, you really were trying to push him over the edge, and god was it working.

James’ fingers wrapped around your wrists in a firm grasp, not enough to hurt you, just enough to pull you inside. You were finally getting what you wanted. Your smile only tended to grow as he lead you up into the bathroom, you managed to keep your dumb giggles hidden away. Even though it was especially hard with the wet patch growing seemingly more in your cotton panties.

The bathroom door shut behind the two of you, almost immediately before locking. That shit eating grin plastered on your face only caused the tent in James’ pants to grow.

You didn’t even have time to speak.

James gripped your wrist and spun you around, pressing your chest down against the bathroom counter with one hand at the small of your back. The cool marble hit your skin, goosebumps rising instantly either from the cold, or the way his body caged yours in.

Outside the thin walls, the muffled buzz of the backyard still hummed. Your dad laughing, someone calling out about overcooked burgers, classic rock floating through the screen door.

One mistake. One voice too loud. One door opened at the wrong time, and you’d be ruined.

But James didn’t stop.

“Look at yourself,” he murmured against your ear, his tone deep, focused. “Still untouched, still aching, and you’re soaking.”

He pressed the head of his cock against your entrance. slow, hot, thick — teasing you with a drag through your folds, not pushing in.

You whimpered. “Please... James…”

“Say it louder and I’ll pull out,” he warned, voice like gravel, hand tightening in your hair as he tilted your head up toward the mirror.

Your reflection made your cheeks burn — lips parted, pupils blown wide, tears already forming at the corners of your eyes from the unbearable need he hadn’t yet given you release from.

“You’ve been walking around this house for weeks like a fucking brat,” he murmured, nuzzling the shell of your ear. “You wanted this. All that teasing. All those looks. You knew I’d cave.”

You nodded, chest rising and falling in fast, shallow breaths.

“I wanted you to break.”

He smiled, and finally, finally sank into you.

The stretch was slow and agonizing, thick and perfect, and you cried out, trying (failing) to muffle the sound. James clamped his hand over your mouth from behind.

“Shh,” he whispered, lips brushing the back of your neck. “Be quiet for me, sweetheart. Don’t wanna get caught, do you?”

You shook your head, tears slipping from your lashes — the kind born from pressure, from overstimulation, from holding back too long.

And fuck, he saw it.

“Oh, baby…” he whispered, breath hitching as he bottomed out. “Are you crying already?”

You nodded again, unable to hold it in, the ache between your thighs overwhelming, the emotional weight of wanting this for so long finally snapping loose inside you.

“Poor thing,” he cooed, thrusting in again, slow but deep, dragging along your walls like he had all the time in the world. “Been teasing, begging, being such a mouthy little brat... but now look at you. All tears and no fight left.”

His words made your walls flutter around him, your hands gripping the counter for support as his hips rocked against you, hitting that spot that had your breath catching in your throat.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he said, and his voice was different now; softer, edged with praise. “So fucking good for me. Just a little more. You’re right there, aren’t you?”

You choked on a whimper, nodding quickly, overwhelmed.

His hand slid down between your thighs; fingertips gentle now, coaxing you, working you in slow, perfect circles. Every part of you was trembling.

“Come for me,” he whispered. “Let me feel it. You’ve been so good.”

The praise shattered you.

You buried your face in your arm, biting down on your skin to stay quiet as the orgasm tore through you, slow and hard and long, like it had been waiting for this moment to break free. Your whole body quaked against him as he groaned into your shoulder, his thrusts faltering, his body shaking behind you.

“Fuck- ‘m gonna fill you up again, baby,” he growled, lips brushing your damp skin. “Take it for me. Let me keep you messy.”

You didn’t even answer. You couldn’t. All you could do was take it, collapsing forward against the counter as his hips finally stilled, thick heat spreading inside you, your thighs slick and trembling.

He stayed there for a second, both of you catching your breath.

Then, slowly, he pulled out, careful with you this time. You whimpered at the loss, at the oversensitive drag, and he immediately gathered you into his arms, arms that had just held you down, now holding you together.

“You okay?” he whispered, voice nothing like before; gentle, almost regretful.

You nodded, but tears were still in your lashes. He kissed them away.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful when you cry,” he murmured, smoothing a hand through your hair.

gildedcupid 𖤍 2025

reblogs & interactions are greatly appreciated!

#james kelly #hayden christensen #james kelly smut #james kelly x reader #smut #x reader #tw degradation #female reader #﹒⌗﹒juneslie writes ⸝⸝#james kelly x you #praise

121 notes · View notes