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spencerreidenjoyer · 4 months

Text

welcome home | spencer reid x reader

word count: 2.2k, rating: 18+/explicit

warning/tags: smut and fluff, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, munch!spencer reid, established relationship

a/n: hello! this is my first spencer/criminal minds fic and am new to posting fic to tumblr!! i wrote this in 2 hours in a frenzy lol. please let me know if u like this, enjoy!

You wake when the bedroom door creaks open. Spencer’s been meaning to get it fixed, but he’s been away so often recently.

A dark figure in the doorway startles you as you blink, your eyes adjusting to the darkness, and you reach for your phone as you sit up but a familiar voice soothes any of your anxieties.

“Hey,” Spencer says quietly. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“No, it’s okay,” you answer, even though Spencer coming in most definitely woke you up. “Hey. Welcome home.”

Spencer walks over to your side of the bed, turning the lamp on the bedside table on. The gentle, yellow glow fills the room. You see how sweetly Spencer is looking at you. You smile up at him, and Spencer leans in to kiss you. He tastes like coffee.

“Told you not to drink coffee so late,” you chastise playfully. “You always have trouble falling asleep when you do.”

“Emily made me a cup on our way back from New York, I couldn’t say no,” Spencer shrugs, smiling.

You shake your head, pulling the knot of his tie loose.

“Go take a shower before you come to bed, baby,” you say, patting his cheek. “I’ve been missing cuddling my boyfriend to sleep.”

“Don’t wait up. Get some more rest, Y/N,” Spencer hums, before he turns around and enters the bathroom.

You can’t fall back asleep, not just yet. You decide to scroll mindlessly on your phone while the sound of the shower running provides some ambient noise. You hear Spencer’s not-so-in-tune humming over the water, and it makes you smile to yourself.

Spencer always scolds you for taking too long in the shower. Says it’s a waste of water. You often suggest you should shower together, leaving Spencer a bumbling, red-faced mess. It’s cute.

It doesn’t take long for him to step out of the shower, towel-drying his hair. You turn to face him to make a cheeky comment, but all you see is a towel wrapped around his waist and water dripping down his torso, tanned skin still wet. Your lips parted still, you look up and meet his eyes. Spencer quirks an eyebrow, curious.

You swallow, attempting to make a smooth comeback. “Couldn’t have towelled yourself off in there?”

Spencer chuckles, “Didn’t bring a change of clothes in. Thought I might as well change out here.”

You feel your cheeks heat, but you muster up some confidence to say, “Forget the clothes.”

“What?” Spencer asks. You can only focus on the veins in his forearms, the bob of his Adam’s apple.

“I said forget the clothes. Come here,” you repeat, and Spencer’s eyes widen. He approaches you, almost nervous, as if you haven’t been dating for a year. Awkwardly, he stands by the bed, and you pull him down towards you with the towel he’s left slung around his shoulders. He catches himself, hands planted next to either side of your head. His hair, still damp, falls into his face. He looks so handsome like this. You lean up to kiss him.

Spencer makes a surprised little noise, before his hand moves to cup your face as he kisses you. He kneels on the mattress for support so his other hand can trace your body, feeling you up as you are with him, hands reaching for his biceps, his lithe body, his toned stomach.

You feel breathless as you whisper, “I missed you, Spencer.”

“I missed you too,” Spencer exhales, eyes gentle and warm as he looks down at you.

“Kiss me some more,” you coax.

Spencer grins. “Gladly.”

Spencer kisses you, desperation in every move he makes. You run your hand through his hair. Messy as it air-dries, but that’s just another thing you like about him. You feel him slide his hand up your sleep shirt – well, it’s his shirt, but he no longer says anything about you stealing his clothes – and it sends a shudder down your spine. His hand is calloused, rough, but touches you with a sweet gentleness that makes you swoon. His hand reaches your breast, cups it, squeezes like he needs to get his fill.

“Spencer,” you gasp, as you run your hand down his body, reaching where his towel is tucked in so that it stays up. Your hand nudges his hardening cock, and you smile. “Someone’s already hot and bothered, huh?”

Spencer shakes his head, chuckling. “As if you didn’t start this.”

“Oh, come on, baby,” you coo. “I think it’s cute. You want me so bad.”

“I do,” He answers rather earnestly. “I’ve been gone for the better part of this week. Of course I want you.”

“And I’ll give it to you,” you answer, undoing the towel and letting it fall around Spencer’s knees. Your hand wraps around Spencer, and he moans at the contact, at the pressure.

“Shit,” Spencer groans, head falling forward as he loses himself in the pleasure of your hand. His brows are furrowed slightly but he’s leaking, and you just want him inside you already. You kiss his cheek, and he turns his head to meet your lips instead. His lips are soft, a little chapped, but Spencer’s never been diligent with the lip balm you gave him. You’ll kiss him regardless, chapped lips and all.

“I want you, Spencer,” you sigh. “Please.”

“I know,” Spencer says, and he reaches for your lower half. “How- How did I not realise you weren’t wearing shorts?”

You smirk, only hiding your fluster when you take off your shirt and toss it onto the floor. “Oh, Mr. Respectful Boyfriend over here doesn’t realise his girlfriend is half-naked. Shocker.”

“Hey, I am respectful!” Spencer retaliates, while trying very hard not to ogle your tits, which you promptly counter by squeezing his cock. He squeaks. You laugh, as he apologises and moves to dip his thumbs in the waistband of your panties. He looks at you.

“Take them off already, Spencer,” you say. He does, pulling your underwear off with a reverence he’s always given you when you’re in bed together. You lift your hips so he can slide them off. You expect Spencer to come back up, but he instead slides in between your spread legs.

His hand is gentle on your thigh, and his thumb rubs at the crease between your thigh and your cunt. You feel his breath on you, his face lowering towards your heat but his eyes solely meeting yours. “Let me take care of you.”

“Yeah?” you say, feeling breathless already. “I thought- I thought I was supposed to make you feel good, since you missed me.”

“You do make me feel good. Even like this.” Spencer says, matter-of-factly. “Especially like this.”

“It’s hot that you like getting me off,” you say. You can’t help the smile that forms on your face, as Spencer buries his face between your legs.

You feel the little bit of stubble on Spencer’s chin rubbing at your thighs, and his insistent tongue that slowly coaxes you open. It’s wet and slick and you feel so good, as his tongue circles your clit. The way he’s eating you out is like a man starved, as he holds your legs apart, drinking from you like he’s running out of water. The pleasure makes your head spin, makes your toes curl, as adrenaline drums in your veins and makes the tips of your fingers (that are buried in Spencer’s hair) tingle. You hold him down against you, as if you want him impossibly closer, as if the pleasure he’s giving you will increase tenfold if you do. You feel him moan against you, the vibrations only making you feel better.

“Spencer,” you exhale shakily, “You need to fuck me, right now.”

He pulls away slightly, and you expect the loss of warmth all at once, but Spencer’s slipped the tips of two fingers into you, and he fills you up just like that alongside his tongue. He spreads them to scissor you open, tongue slid in between them perfectly. You cry out as he fucks you with his stupidly long fingers, feeling crazy good when he hits the spots deep inside you that you can only reach on a good day.

You writhe on the bed, the bed you share, and Spencer finally comes up for air. “That’s totally what you meant, right?”

You glare at Spencer. “I’m going to kill you.”

“You won’t,” Spencer says with a smirk. He pulls his fingers out of you, sits back up so he’s kneeling between your legs. You watch Spencer wrap his fingers around himself, sticky with your slick, as he works himself up. Playfully, he mocks, “You want me so bad.”

You gasp as he presses the tip of his cock to your hole, wet and sticky and leaking from the number Spencer’s already done on you. He’s sweet as he presses inside, doesn’t tease but instead gives you exactly what you want.

Spencer feels like he was made for you, fitting inside you perfectly. You sigh as he presses into you, all the way to the hilt. When you look up at him, it’s like he can barely keep it together. His face is scrunched up and a little flushed, and you just want to kiss him.

You reach up to pull him closer by the nape of his neck. He can clearly tell what you plan to do, so he says, “I taste like you.”

You smile up lazily at him. “I know. I think that’s really fucking hot.”

He leans in to kiss you, full of heat, but he’s still extremely sweet about it. His chin is sticky, but you couldn’t care less. He holds you so softly, but wherever his hands touch your skin – your stomach, your thighs, your face – it feels so hot, burning with his desire.

You clench around him on purpose when he breaks away from kissing you, and he curses under his breath. “Jesus Christ. The things you do to me.”

“Yeah?” You grin. “Show me.”

Spencer pulls out before rocking his hips, pushing himself into you, and you moan. His rhythm has gotten better since you and Spencer started sleeping together, better at keeping his pace even and steady to get you to your orgasm. He used to be a bumbling (but adorable) mess, close to virginal and would blow his load just after a few minutes. You like to think you helped him improve, but you definitely don’t want to see him use these skills with anyone else.

He holds your leg up, allowing him to fuck you even deeper. You feel every inch of Spencer inside of you, as he slides in and out, repeat. He’s learned well, just how to fuck you. Being a genius definitely has its perks, with him learning so quickly, knowing exactly what makes you tick.

His other hand reaches down to toy with your clit, and you shudder. “Spencer… Feels so good, baby.”

“Yeah?” Spencer responds, sounding delighted to hear your glowing review. “Are you gonna…”

“I’m close,” you sigh. “God, you feel so fucking good.”

“Fuck,” Spencer curses, seemingly out of nowhere, but you know by now that it turns him on like crazy. His need for praise always had you curious, and using it in bed just makes you feel all the more powerful. He clears his throat, continuing, “You’re- So tight, so warm. You feel really good.”

Spencer’s been trying to… talk more, during sex, knowing how much you like it. He’s remembered the way you talk to him when you’re sleeping together, and he’s done well parroting it back to you. It’s hot, how eager he is to please.

“I’m gonna cum, baby,” you say, breathless. “Make me cum, Spencer.”

He leans in to press his lips to yours again, driving his hips into you at a punishing pace, and you’re gushing as he flicks at your clit in all the right ways. You moan as your orgasm washes over you, electrifies you, till every bone in your body feels like jelly. He lets out a whimper as his hips stutter, emptying inside of you. His warmth floods into you, and you feel a strange sense of pride with it.

“Ugh, you’re so hot,” you groan, while Spencer presses one last kiss to your cheek before he slumps down on top of you. “And heavy.”

“I love you,” Spencer says, awfully serious. “Thank you.”

“Why are you thanking me, Spencer?” You chuckle. Spencer lifts his head to look at you. You stroke his cheek gently.

“For letting me make you feel good, I suppose,” Spencer says. “Orgasms are often good for stress relief.”

“For me or for you?” You grin.

“Both of us?” Spencer suggests. You nod in agreement.

You sit in the comfortable silence between you and Spencer as you cuddle with him on top of you, only feeling sticky once the post-orgasm high has worn off. “So, wanna shower together?”

“Oh my God,” Spencer squeaks, sounding positively scandalised.

You laugh. “Oh, please. As if you didn’t cum inside of me just minutes ago.”

Spencer makes a comically distressed noise. “Well, when you put it like that!”

He gets up off of you, like he’s afraid of offending you, but you just take his hand as you stand up. You see the way his eyes rake over your naked body. It feels good. You kiss the top of his hand and smile at him. “Nothing to be scared of, Spencer. Come on.”

#spencer reid x fem!reader #munch!spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencerreidenjoyer writes

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kisakis-boyfriend · 5 months

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I saw you wrote for BSD so I have arrived

Thoughts on who breeding kink in the show? Personally I think poe, chuuya & nikolai are all sluts for it 😞

Author's Note: What a fascinating request 👀 — I wrote some brief HCs on how each character likes to be bred specifically ❤️

Pairings: Poe, Chuuya, Nikolai, Atsushi, Kunikida, Tecchou, Fukuzawa x male reader (separately)

Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!characters, breeding kink, rough sex, clingy sex, mentions of knocking the guys up

Poe

Despite his shy nature, Poe prefers rough breeding

Like, bed creaking, sweaty, clingy, completely exhausted afterwards type of sex

He's always holding onto you somehow; clinging to your chest, holding your arms, wrapping his legs around your waist so that you can't slip out, to make sure that your cum stays deep inside ofc

When you're finished, Poe will be pretty out of it. Which gives you the opportunity to take extra good care of him 🤎

Chuuya

One word; DOGGYSTYLE

You will change positions a lot, but you'll end up fucking Chuuya from behind more often than not

Bro is VOCAL. One minute he's growling at you to go deeper, then he's whining like a little girl

He definitely uses his special ability to keep you inside of him. Can't let any cum spill out, now can we?

Chuuya arches his back so beautifully while you rail him. Just, unf 😩

Nikolai

Ahegao face. That is all~

Nikolai is probably the sluttiest out of this bunch, especially when it comes to breeding

Begs for you to fill him with your babies; moaning so sweetly for you and rutting his hips with you like a good boy

He is also the most, uh... forceful? out of the group. For lack of a better term

The kind of guy that would tie you down and bounce on your cock until he passes out

And also the kind of guy who makes you fill him up again because you just have to make sure he'll get pregnant, you know?

Atsushi

Put him in a mating press PLEASE?! 🥺

Our little tiger has a size kink too; so he likes to feel small and powerless when you rail him and cream his little hole 🤍

A mix of rough and soft sex works perfectly for Atsushi. He needs to know that you really love him when you breed him

Lots of kissing and leaning your foreheads together, giggling and nipping at his sensitive neck, whispering how you just can't get enough of his tight ass, etc etc etc

Kunikida

Is it really any surprise that Kunikida has this kink?

He wants kids someday, so of course you need to fuck him deeper and deeper and deeper and deeper and deeper and deeper and deeper and deeper and deeper and d-

Missionary breeding with a touch of humiliation as you turn Kunikida into your pliant cum dump 💛

Tecchou

The most well-behaved out of the bunch (though Atsushi is a close second)

Tecchou begs so sweetly — so needy for you to turn him into your wifey ❤️

Definitely the most passionate out of the bunch too. His entire world is just you! You, as your hips meet his over and over. You, as a river of sticky cum floods his insides. You, as your hands cup Tecchou's face, kissing him for the nth time tonight

Fukuzawa

This old man wasn't even into breeding until he met you

But you showed him how lovely it feels to be fucked stupid, surrounded by his lover's scent on the sheets while you make him feel needed

Also extremely passionate even when you get rough with him

Hand holding, intensely making out, moaning, whining, blushing. All things that you can expect while you knock Fukuzawa up again and again and again

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luveline · 7 months

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ooo i love that you’re giving me free reign over ideas for pregnant bombshell and spencer.. maybe something really angsty where reader’s hormones are getting the best of her and she’s just really pissed at spencer for absolutely no reason? hope that makes sense

thank you for requesting <3 pregnant!reader

“I’m serious, Spencer Reid, you better leave me alone,” you warn.

Spencer gawps. Morgan glances between you both in concern, having seen hundreds of your conversations over the years and never one this sour. “But I–”

“I’m not kidding.” You glare at him, press your hand to your mouth, and spin away from him to march up the steps to Hotch’s office.

Spencer attempts to follow you. Morgan holds him back with one hand to the chest. “I wouldn’t if I were you.”

Spencer watches you until you’re gone. He frowns, upset in his eyes and his model pout. “I don’t even know what I did.”

“Is this a common occurrence?”

“No, never! But these last couple days she’s always angry with me.”

“It’s the baby hormones,” Morgan assures his friend, patting him and pushing him toward his desk. “Or you did something and don’t remember.”

“If I did, I really don’t.”

You stew in Hotch’s office. Morgan can imagine the conversation, your annoyance and Hotch’s light bemusement, your wondering if you’re being too harsh, and Hotch giving an amiable, neutral answer. Morgan can also imagine what Spencer thinks you’re doing, watching as his shoulders sink further and further down.

Spencer scratches a stressed hand through his hair. “I’ll go say sorry,” he says.

“Maybe that’s a good idea, but not yet. She needs time to cool down.”

Spencer frowns at his hands. “I don’t like when she’s mad at me like this. We’re always on the same page, I never have to guess what she’s thinking anymore.” He pulls at the neck of his shirt and his tight tie. “I feel like I’m twenty four again.”

“This is all new for her,” Morgan says. What Spencer doesn’t know is that he’s making this up as he goes. Spencer messed irretrievably for all he knows. “You just need to remember why she’s doing it in the first place, right? She’s loved you for years, one pregnancy induced moment of rage won’t change that. Probably.”

Spencer isn’t appeased. Worse when you emerge from Hotch’s office and walk straight to your desk without glancing Spencer’s way, and worse again when he attempts to talk to you and you shake your head. “Please, Spencer. Just leave me alone.”

Spencer spends the day in agony. The worry of what he’s done eats at him, and he attempts to make it up to you, ultimately making it worse. You frown at every cup of tea or water he brings you, glaring at the plate he serves you for lunch. The bullpen of the office sags under your fury. Spencer doesn’t eat a single bite all day.

It’s by chance that Morgan witnesses the full fallout on his way to the bathroom. You’re in the hallway just on the way to Penelope’s office with Spencer, who’s clearly followed you to give apologies and concern aplenty. He’s caught your hand.

“I don’t even know why you’re mad,” Spencer says hopelessly. He sounds heartbroken.

You look at your hands for a long while, seconds stretching and aching, before you hold your stomach and look to the side. “I’m sorry–” you say, cutting yourself off as your voice wobbles unsurely.

“What?” Spencer asks, startled.

“I don’t know,” —your breath shudders— “why I’m being so mean to you–”

“Angel–”

“I feel like I’m suffocating in my own skin and you’re just making me so angry hovering because I can look after myself, but I’m starting to think I can’t, and I look really stupid in my maternity clothes–”

“What’s wrong with your clothes?”

You huff sharply.

“I’m sorry,” he says, holding out his hands. “I’m so sorry. I know you’re just really pregnant right now and the hormones are messing with you,” —you scoff, but Spencer soldiers on— “I love how you look, and I love you even when you’re angry with me, and I’m sorry you feel claustrophobic. What can I do?”

Your glare softens slowly. “You’re not mad at me?”

“You’re mad at me, lovely.”

Morgan thinks that last bit is a nice touch. You wipe your blurry eyes and squeeze his hands, still breathing too fast and too hard but the anger having completely drained from your features, returning you to your usual beautiful state. You measure his gaze for a while, before resting your forehead on his chest, your bump in the way of a proper hug. “Do you still love me?” you ask quietly.

“No.” He laughs and kisses your temple, using his index finger to turn your face by your hairline carefully, giving him better view of your face. “Yeah, I still love you. I always do. I’m sorry I upset you that much, I’m not trying to smother you.”

“You didn’t, Spence, I upset myself, and I took it out on you… I’m sorry I was mean to you, earlier, you didn’t deserve it. It’s just hard.” You shake your head. “You never make me feel bad for being a diva and I wish you would.”

“Would that make you feel better?”

You sigh. “No, please keep being my sweetheart. Please.”

Spencer says something too quiet for Morgan to hear, but can be read from the lips as a promise as he sweeps his hand up and down your back.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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cameronspecial · 7 months

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Mrs. Cameron All But In Name

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.7K

Summary: When Y/N has to burrow Wheezie's phone to text Rafe, she notices something interesting about her contact name.

A/N: Inspired by this post.

Masterlist

Y/N and Rafe have been dating for three years now and it is clear they are meant to be together. If it weren’t for their young age, Y/N is sure they would be married or at least engaged by now. They practically act like an old married couple anyway, so when they do tie the knot, it would only really be for legal reasons. With dating Rafe, came a close relationship with his sisters. Sarah and Wheezie have practically become her own siblings and she loves to spend time with the girls. In fact, it’s why she has a bi-monthly girls' night with the pair. Yes, every time they have it they have to chase Rafe out of the house, but Y/N thinks it is important to foster the bond between them, so he always begrudgingly leaves to hang out with Kelce and Topper. “How are things with you and John B?” Y/N questions while tracking the nail polish brush along Wheezie’s nail. Sarah shrugs as she files her nails, “We’re fighting right now. He doesn’t want to go to the Nassau house with us and I want him to go.” “Aww, that sucks, Sweetie. I’m sure he’ll come around. Do you want me to have a talk with him?” Y/N offers. Sarah shakes her head, “No, it’s okay. We’ll make up eventually. We just need to cool off a little.” Y/N nods and finishes off the last coat of Wheezie’s nails. She releases the hand, “There you go, Beautiful. What colour do you want, Sarah?”

Sarah places the nail file on the table and examines her options before picking up a salmon pink polish from the collection. Y/N gets to work on doing the older Cameron sister’s nails, “How about you, Wheezie? Anyone on your radar you want to tell us about.” Wheezie lips pucker as she squints her eyes. “Nahh, I am happy being single. I see what you and Sarah go through with John B and Rafe. I do not need that type of problem,” she informs. The other girls giggle. Y/N checks her phone to see it is dead, “Amen to that, Wheeze. I mean look. My phone is dead, but how much do you want to bet that your brother is blowing up my phone right now asking me when he can come back home? Can I please borrow one of your phones to tell him my phone is dead while I charge mine?” “Of course, here,” Wheezie says, unlocking her phone so that Y/N can use it.

She places the nail polish on the table and scrolls through Wheezie’s messages to find the texts with Rafe. A certain contact name second down the list catches her eye. Y/N Cameron. She freezes at the sight. Her eyes flick toward the younger girl, “Why do you have my last name as yours?” Wheezie’s cheeks redden and her gaze falls away from her brother’s girlfriend. “Rafe did it. He said that it’s going to be your name eventually, so what difference does it make,” Wheezie states. Y/N chuckles with a shake of her head, “That doesn’t surprise me at all.” She types out her message and hits send. My phone is dead, so don’t freak out if I don’t respond. I’m charging my phone rn. -Mrs. Cameron.”

———

His phone chimes and a massive grin crosses his face. He checks his text, feeling his heart flutter at the message. So she found out what he’d been saving her name as in everyone’s contact. He chuckles. It took her long enough to find out. He’s been ordering everyone to change her last name in their contact for years. His smile doesn’t wipe off as he responds. Come on, Baby. You know you are my Mrs. Cameron all but in name. You can’t blame me for wanting to make the process easier for everyone else once we do take the next step.

Smh. You really are something else, Mr. Cameron.

But I’m your something else, Mrs. Cameron, but you know you love me.

You are lucky that I do. Now, I’m going to end this conversation here before you start dirty-talking me. I’m not subjecting Wheeze to those texts.

You know me so well, Baby.

Goodbye, Rafey. I love you.

I love you too, Baby. I’ll see you when I get home.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

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mystellenia · 7 months

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passionate sex with abby ୨ৎ

summary: you and abby spend the night enjoying each other, sharing a passionate moment.

content: fingering (r receiving), praise, abby literally worshipping you, strap on sex

notes: answer to this req!! can someone get me a shirt that says "baby's 1st strap fic!" this was surprisingly fluffier than i intended but i’m not mad. if there are any typos or grammar mistakes, let me know please! i will never consistently proof read <3 prob like 20% of my work is proof read if i’m feeling quite Professional

(wc 1.6k)

"are you asleep?" abby softly whispered into your hair, careful to not disturb you if you had fallen asleep.

the two of you lay on the couch watching a black and white film flicker across the tv screen, a king-sized blanket bunched around your waist. your arms tuck further into your chest, pulling the blanket up a little higher to your waist.

abby's large hands splayed across your lower back—not drawing little shapes, not tracing your skin, just feeling. she was always touching you, whether it was your fingers laced between hers or just her arm pressed against your side. she'd always say that you grounded her, that just being with you could calm her down from the highest of stresses.

you slightly shake your head, responding to her question. "nope."

"do you still wanna watch the movie?"

you shake your head again. "nope."

turning your head to look up at her from where your chin rested on her chest, you kiss her quickly on her cheek. "let's go to bed."

she doesn't respond, just smooths your hair back with her hand and scoots out from under you, grabbing your hand to lead you to the bedroom. she leaves your dishes behind—a bowl, two empty mugs, and a cookie wrapper sit still on the coffee table, frozen and forgotten by the two of you as you walk down the hall.

abby heads to the bathroom and loads up her toothbrush, and you change from your heavy sweatshirt and pajama pants to one of abby's simple, large t-shirts. you take your hair out of its bun and hear a chuckle from behind you, so you turn and see abby smiling and watching you, her foamy toothbrush hanging from her lips.

you take your hair tie out and set it on your side of the bed. "what?" you ask, to which she just shakes her head and returns her gaze to the mirror in front of her. you walk towards her in front of the sink, looking at her reflection. her eyes drop down towards her shirt on you, and she laughs again, quickly leaning into the sink to spit her toothpaste out.

"what!" you smile, tilting your head at her eyes dancing across your face. she takes her time with finishing, leisurely swirling water in her mouth. she finally spits, drying her mouth with a hand towel and saying, "you're swimming in that shirt."

you reflexively look down at it, smoothing it down your body. "it's not even that big on me—it barely goes past my mid-thigh."

"if you say so," she chuckles, leaning in for a kiss. her lips move slowly over yours, taking her time in savoring your taste.

your lips part, and she turns towards the mirror to set the towel down with a dreamy smile slowly spreading across her lips, her blinks slow and partial. you lean against the doorframe with that same dreamy smile until you move back towards her, your hand moving to her shoulder.

abby is the one who deepens the kiss, tilting your head back to push her tongue inside your mouth and humming against your lips. the bathroom counter digs into your butt, and your knees almost buckle at her unhurried kisses.

both of her hands lift up to your head, grabbing each of your cheeks and pulling back to look at you. her eyes look more black than blue, her blown pupils swallowing up the silvery rings of her eyes.

she turns your back towards the doorway and begins walking you backwards to the bed, the mattress hitting the back of your thighs and folding you onto the duvet, your kiss never breaking once. your legs immediately wrap around her hips, ankles locking on the backs of her toned thighs.

her fingers snake under your shirt, swiping her thumbs over your belly and leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. she parts from your lips for air, and you both break out in a fit of giggles.

you calm down and stare into her eyes, hurrying up to her face and dotting kisses all over her face, making her laugh even more.

abby turns her head away to escape your assault of kisses, and you still once she does. "i love you," she lowly says, her eyes lazily looking into yours.

"i love you, too," you whisper back. you feel your cheeks heating, so you cover them with your hands to cool them down.

"aww," abby sweetly coos, "you shy?"

"i have a crush on you," you say seriously, smiling when she laughs at the absurdity of your statement.

"well, shit, i sure hope so," she jokes and lowers herself, kissing you long and soft.

like an unspoken agreement, abby pulls back as you sit up and you both start removing your clothes, one by one, holding eye contact the entire time. the intimacy of it all crashes over you, and you'd drown a hundred times over if it meant you could freeze this moment in time, pause it and restart whenever you choose.

you lay on your back and abby crawls over you, sucking the skin of your neck and making your squirm. you reach to thread your fingers through her hair, but your fingers are stopped by the braid in her hair, now loose and frayed from being in all day. unfastening the rubber band at the tail, you comb your fingers through the braid and undo it piece by piece. once her hair is fully free, you scratch at her scalp, restless from her tongue moving on your skin.

with no warning at all, abby dips her hand into your underwear, tracing a feathery swipe through your folds. obviously, you jump, your nails digging crescents into her shoulders.

she gradually pushes her finger inside you, and you throw your head back with a groan, your legs opening unconsciously. she finds a slow and teasing pace, her thumb mirroring it while she rubs tight circles on your clit.

abby never breaks eye contact, watching you the whole time and how your face screws tighter in pleasure, listening to your closed-lip moans start to spill through your mouth. she never speeds up, though, and the pace is too slow to finish.

"abby... come on," you plead, trying to keep your eyes open long enough to look at her.

"yeah? tell me what you want and i'll do it," she pants, looking at you and begging for an order, for another way to make you feel good.

just one of her thick fingers can push you closer to the edge, but it's still not enough. your cheeks warm, but you find the words to say, "i need you. right now, abby."

not a second passes before she's pulling out of you and leaning over to the side of the bed, lifting herself back up with a black strap in her hand. at six inches, it was a perfect fit for you—not too small, not too big—and for abby—comfortably sitting against her core.

wasting no time, she slides the tip up and down your cunt, lathering it in your slick before pushing her hips forward and sliding in, inch by inch. she hovers close above your face, observing every twitch in your body. her own jaw is dropped all the way, her lids low as she uncontrollably bucks her hips and pushes the last of the strap in. a guttural groan falls from her lips as if she was holding her breath the whole time, a whiney breath followed by a hushed curse coming from you.

she drops to her forearms, her hand moving to thread through your hair and cradle the back of your head. when you start to squirm, she pulls out almost all the way and smoothly pushes back in. finding a steady rhythm, her hips tenderly pump into yours, hypnotized by your little noises and how your hair splayed around your face in a halo.

this was exactly why abby preferred missionary, but right now her pleasure takes over and makes her forget everything but you as her head falls into your shoulder, her hand tensing around the nape of your neck.

"i" —she struggles to get out— "am so lucky to have you. god, i'm so glad you're mine." she continues breathing praises into your ear, your huffs getting louder and her breaths becoming more labored.

she feels your legs trying to lock around her torso, and she pulls back to watch your face as she always does. "look at me, look at me," she rushes out, trying to catch you before your orgasm.

you pry your eyes open and pull her forehead to yours. "together, please."

"i know, i know. just..." she trails off, trying to focus, her hips suddenly jerking with her orgasm.

as if on the same wavelength, you cum a second after her, you two sloppily kissing and moaning into the other's mouth. you both twitch and spasm, the sheets damp with sweat and slick.

after taking a minute to catch her breath, abby pulls out, wincing at the strap's base kissing her puffy clit. she quickly takes it off and lays down next to you, you immediately curling up to her.

she rubs her hand on your arm, quietly murmuring, "good night, pretty girl," and pulling the sheets up, rubbing your skin until you fall asleep.

click here!! oh and here too!! ˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶

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princessbrunette · 7 months

Text

HOLD ME, KISS ME ♡

♪ the little dippers — forever ♪

WANTED: JOHN BOOKER ROUTLEDGE - SUSPECTED MURDER - $1000 REWARD - DANGEROUS! IF SPOTTED DO NOT APPROACH!

pairing: outlaw!johnb + sheltered!reader ⋆₊⊹♡

synopsis: your wishes come true when a beautiful boy is found sleeping peacefully in your barn. much to his surprise, you don’t care about who he is or what he has or hasn’t done — you just want to ensure he stays forever.

cw: mentions of prayer, religion and god (for plot purpose) reader has two parents, western!au, innocence kink, slight manipulation, mentions of crime, breeding kink, smut ♡

“Please deliver me a man, save me from this loneliness. Make him kind, and strong, and handsome. I vow to make him the happiest man alive.”

Your forehead rests against your clasped hands where you kneel beside your bed, speaking out loud as there was no one else to speak to. Your parents had gone on a trip for two weeks, leaving you in charge of the farmhouse all by your lonesome.

Isolated didn’t feel like the correct term. You were grateful, happy to live off the fat of your father’s land in the middle of nowhere, but sometimes you wished you had someone to share it with. Someone your own age who was there to see you. You had become the perfect host, thrilled when your parents would bring home guests once in a blue moon. You’d tie ribbons in your hair and pick the perfect dress and set the table like your mother taught you. You often imagined setting the table for a family of your own.

Your own farm house. The thought sent you off to sleep each night, walking through the home in your mind as if it were really real, feeling the creaking of the painted wooden porch beneath your feet as you enter, the distant cooing of your baby being comforted by your husband in the next room. White shabby-chic panels across the walls with oak furniture and knitted throw pillows and lots and lots of warm light. The kitchen table would have the perfect lace floral embroidered table cloth draped across it which you’d serve the heartiest dinners on each night. The babies room would be painted mint green, no— maybe pastel yellow, with handmade toys and a music box that played your song and oh, the master bedroom… where you and your husband rest your head would be flooded with natural light. A haven. All yours.

The details to the decoration often changed, new inspiration plucked from the papers that father would bring home and new favourite colours integrating themselves into your home plans but one thing remained the same each time. Your husband. He never had a face, but it wasn’t important. He was warm, strong without having to prove just how macho he was, kind— you could feel his love from the next room on. That was all you really wanted. You could forget the house, forget the land, live in a barn for all you care — you just wanted to experience a love like the ones in the fairytale books stacked high in your room.

It had been a week already of this routine you’d grown used to. You wake up, feed yourself and then the chickens, come inside, clean yourself and then the house, paint, crotchet or read — however the mood takes you, eat lunch, tend to the crops, brush the horses, maybe milk a cow, come inside and cook dinner, bathe, think about your dream husband and grind your wet messy cunt into a pillow, feel guilty, beg for forgiveness and then sleep. It was an easy life, and you couldn’t complain— but you couldn’t help feel the world had more to offer.

Your mother often told you that gifts from above come when you least expect it, you just had to keep your eyes open. You always wondered how one might find these gifts with no idea where to look.

Your gift arrived bright and early the next morning.

Well, not technically as early as it should have been, infact you probably nearly missed it. The roosters calls at 6AM each morning, but on that very day you had decided to sleep in. A few hours wouldn’t kill them, you think as you pull a plush white pillow to lay over your ear— it’s not like the chickens would starve.

At 11:45AM, you stumble bare foot onto the grass outside, setting out on your walk to the barn a little way up the land. Your pert nipples harden, awakened by the cool morning breeze as the thin white fabric of your nightdress blows in the wind. With the sunlight shining directly on it, it was sure to be totally and utterly see through— and you suppose that was one upside to living in the middle of nowhere, yards upon yards from civilisation. No one would see you. Sigh.

You feed the chickens, totally blind before it even occurs to you that anything might be astray. Infact, you don’t even seem to notice that the barn door was left ajar, as opposed to how you usually leave it bolted by a wooden slab to prevent the animals from wandering off or being massacred by foxes. You suppose that’s the price you pay for sleeping in, you live in dreamworld for the next few hours.

The Earth seems to stop turning for a moment when you see him.

You’re more curious than anything, wide eyed, holding your breath as to be totally silent despite having been humming and speaking to the chickens only a moment prior. You tiptoe through the hay, shards of straw sprouting between your painted toes and pin-needling your sole as you draw closer to the man. A fallen angel, your first thought.

He’s half curled up onto his side in the hay behind the stable for your white pony. He has thick-ish arms crossed over his chest, his hat laying over his face seeming to be serving as a purpose to block out the light. You figure as you hadn’t woken up him before, a closer inspection couldn’t hurt. Unhurriedly, you sink down into a squat beside him, knees pointed upwards and feet taking your balance. A real man, in your barn? It couldn’t be. You chew on your bottom lip, goggle-eyed and inquisitive as you cautiously lift the hat away from his face.

He doesn’t wake and you’re for some reason thankful. It gives you time to observe him, the breath all but knocked from your body as you take in just how beautiful he is. He was perfect, and just like what you were hoping for when you wished to be delivered a husband.

Dark eyelashes kissing at the rim of his closed eyes, pale lips and freckles, sunkissed across his nose. Your eyes trail over and across him, now with his face in mind taking in account what he looks like as a whole. You were still in disbelief, a real man sleeping in your barn. But then again, as your eyes skim lower and you notice the blood seeping through his shirt over his stomach — you wonder if he was sleeping. Surely he wasn’t dead? Only God could be so cruel to deliver you the perfect man without a pulse.

So, you press two cold fingers to his neck, searching for the rhythmic beats signifying life. As soon as you do so, the man jolts awake — wide brown eyes meeting yours.

“Jesus.”

This is where the stare off commences— you were sat in a squat giving him a straight shot up your night dress with dome like eyes and parted lips, observing him like he was some sort of alien life form that had happened upon your barn infront of your very eyes. Your chest rises and falls, and his gender fails to betray him as his eyes fall there for a moment, subconsciously noticing the way your bare tits strain against the thin fabric with each exhale. Somewhere in the back of his mind he can’t help but acknowledge that you’re a pretty thing, totally his type. In any other scenario, he might’ve seen you at a local tavern and introduced himself, getting you tipsy and loose, making you giggle beneath his soft gaze and coarse hands in some dimly lit booth before realising he’s far too respectful to take advantage of you like that.

With his eyes open, the picture is complete — and he truly is as beautiful as you thought. He had a puppy like quality to his eyes, they were big and brown but from the sunlight streaming in you could see specks of orange which intrigues you. You wish to look closer, but you feel it’s not the time. His adam’s apple bobs with a thick swallow and he tears his eyes away from yours to look around, still disorientated from sleep. He touches his wound with gentle fingers and he winces, going to push himself up on his elbows.

You open your mouth to speak but he beats you to it, warm deep voice raspy from rest as he dives into a sequence of begging.

“Does anyone know I’m in here?”

“No, I—”

“Okay, that’s— okay, please — hey, please don’t tell anyone. I won’t lie to you, I’m in a little bit of trouble with the law, nothing super bad I swear just — I needed somewhere safe to sleep so I ended up here. Didn’t take anything and uh— and I’ll be out of your hair now that I’m up.” He rambles, continually glancing at the barn doors, expecting Sheriff Shoupe to bust them down and take him in at any moments notice. You say nothing for a moment and he pushes himself to his feet, eyes squeezing shut at the soreness of his injury. “Think it’s easiest if I just—”

He cuts himself off this time, because you slip your hand into his— stopping him from going anywhere. His eyebrows jump up and he freezes on the spot, staring down at your doe eyes with a wide and confused gaze of his own.

“…Hi?”

“You just got here? Why’d you have to go?” You sound sad, and he actually can’t believe what he’s hearing. Not only did he break into your barn, on private land — but he’d totally overstayed his non-existent welcome, and now you didn’t want him to leave?

“P—pardon me? Ma’am?” He tries to be respectful, when what he really wants to ask is along the lines of ‘What the fuck?’.

You scramble to stand up and he helps you using the hand that you’re grasping. “Well, you won’t get far with a wound like that. It could get infected. Maybe you could come inside, let me dress it. You can refuel… maybe stay a few days?” The last part sounds wrong coming from your mouth. He’s a stranger for goodness sake— everything your parents had taught you about safety went against this and plus you were practically begging. You might have been embarrassed, if there wasn’t such a nagging feeling in your stomach telling you that this was meant to be.

He scoffs out a chuckle, because he thinks there’s no way you’re serious— but when he sees your wide eyes bouncing between his own, searching for something he couldn’t quite put a finger on— he realises you’re being completely genuine and his expression melts into a more worried gaze, shuffling a little closer on his feet.

“Look, I really appreciate your hospitality, but you have done more than enough, really. Just the fact you didn’t have the sheriff busting in to drag me away is something I will be very grateful for. Believe me. But I can’t drag you into this. Anyway, don’t you have family? That you live with?”

You sigh, looking down at your intertwined hands that you had yet to release, staring as if you were trying to memorise the feeling of a man’s touch incase you really couldn’t convince him to stay.

“Well yes, but they’re on a trip you see — and they’re going to be away for another week and I’m not sure how much more I can take. I’m awfully lonely, and I know you’re a stranger and all but I could really use the extra set of hands… plus it’s the least you could do… for breaking in…” You feel you’re pushing it with that last part, but decide to proceed with it anyway, any means necessary to get him to stay. He bites his bottom lip in thought as you stare up through your lashes and he thinks screw it. He’s sure you’re not setting him up, a little thing like you would be far too weak to pull that off.

“Okay, I… don’t see why not then.” He doesn’t sound certain, but you make such a good offer he’d be a fool not to accept. He bends down and swoops his hat off the floor, holding it to his chest and you take his hand once more, guiding him out of the barn.

He presses his lips together in an awkward smile at the way you confidently lead him, almost having to break into a jog to match your eager pace. Once nearing the house, you tell him your name and he nods — taking in the scenery.

You’re sitting him down in the living room before he can blink, and he takes in the setting around him. A real cozy place, a family home for sure — with a pale blue couch, a scratchy patchwork blanket draped over the back and floral cushions. There’s photos of you in multiple spots around the room, an only child — he gathers. The main photo sits on the mantelpiece, framed, a set of parents curtaining your smiling face in the image. You seem to be a few years younger, fuller in the face, still cute as a button.

He doesn’t quite realise you’d gone anywhere until you’re returning — the contents of an old first aid box rumbling in your grip. You give him a reassuring smile and lower to kneel by his feet, opening up the container and fishing around for some cotton pads.

“Do you have a name, mister?”

He clears his throat, trying to gage your reaction once he speaks, attempting to work out if the name rings any bells. “Uh, yeah. John B. John B. Routledge. You might’ve… actually heard of me. If you have, uh— I’m sorry.”

You don’t seem to react in any kind of alarming way, a smile grazing your face as you pour rubbing alcohol onto a soft white pad.

“Heard of you how? Are you famous?”

“…You’ve never seen those big ‘Wanted’ posters up in town? Kinda got my picture up on one of them.”

You peel up his shirt revealing tanned, toned skin and a wound that had crusted over with blood. You press the pad to it and he winces, knuckles turning white in his lap and head lulling back against the seat for a moment.

“Sorry.” You furrow your brows apologetically before continuing to mop up all the dried blood. “Oh, and I’m not allowed up in town. Not by myself anyway. So, I don’t keep up to date with all that… stuff.” You pull away, rifling through the box for another clean pad. He nods, eyes jumping to look at his wound and then back to you, watching your face for any discomfort regarding his presence. Oddly, there was none. If it wasn’t clear before, it’s wildly apparent now that you’ve truly been sheltered your whole life. There was this innocence you carried that was hard to come by, a lack of judgement that was sweet but made him worry for you slightly. You were lucky he had a good heart.

“That’s… probably for the best, actually. You know, they like to tell lies. I’m being falsely accused.” He speaks a little slower, and enunciates the last part as if you might not understand, and as expected— you hang onto every word, lips a little parted and wide eyed. It’s pretty cute, albeit inappropriate considering he’s a stranger.

As he speaks, you wrap his wound, pressing the sticky part down onto his skin before gently pressing the cotton covering his injury. “Well I’m really sorry about that John B. You don’t have to worry about that anymore.” You chirp, before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss over the dressing, pulling back to offer him a sweet smile. The lines on John B’s forehead smooth out, his concerned expression melting into his own gentle smile of disbelief.

He wonders what the odds are that he’d stumbled upon a real life angel. Well, it was that — or you wanted to chop his body into tiny pieces whilst he slept and add it to your cauldron. He couldn’t quite figure it out yet, but you were pretty — and he was a total loverboy, so stupidly he was willing to take that risk.

He pulls his shirt back down over his now dressed wound and you begin to clear your things back into the first aid box.

“Is there anything I can do for you? Like, anything you need help with around here?” He offers and you look up at him, brows furrowing with adoration.

“Goodness, no— I couldn’t ask that of you.”

“Said you needed an extra pair of hands earlier.” He challenges with a smile.

“I only said that to get you to come inside. With your injury, I couldn’t possibly put you to work.”

He scrunches his face a little with a half scoff, half smile and shrugs one shoulder. “Please, this thing? It barely even stings. Come oooon.” He croons with a smirk, and you really feel the full effects of his charm now— the warm timbre of his voice headed straight to your clit giving it a heartbeat of its own.

“Fine.” It comes out airy with a giddy smile and you take his hand yet again, almost getting distracted by the coarseness against your palm, the sight of bulging veins along the backs of them.

Your bare feet are treading lightly over soft wood chip once more as you lead him toward the destroyed fence round the left side perimeter of the farm.

“So… I suppose you could carry all the planks back from the fence that fell down in that awful storm last week. I was gonna wait for my daddy to get home to get him to do it ‘cus I’m much too weak for something like that.” You point, and John B’s brown fluffy head follows your finger to the destination at hand. He nods, a doable task.

“Well a girl like you shouldn’t be lifting a finger anyway.” He turns his head back to face you with a smile, eyes squinted in the sun. He looks radiant, no sign of pain anymore and you look down at your night gown, scrunching it in your clammy hands with an uncontrollable grin at the floor, harbouring such an innocent crush on the boy already that you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

His gaze stays on you for a tick whilst you step quietly and he speaks up again, tilting his head a little inquisitively. “I really, really hope this doesn’t sound rude… ‘cus I don’t mean to be. But… are you not… married?” He trails off, thinking of all the times he’s been walloped round the head in taverns for asking questions of a similar nature. Your smile doesn’t go away, your gentle nature not retiring for a moment.

“Oh no, no. I don’t meet boys often. Thats why I’m happy you came!” You chirp, hand reaching out to softly squeeze his arm. “Can be like husband and wife whilst you stay round.”

He just laughs in response. Not necessarily in a mean way, but the same way you laugh when a child tells you they’re going to be an astronaut when they grow up.

The brutal beating of the sun does nothing to stop the honest work you’d put the self proclaimed outlaw up to, he seems to be deep in thought often — carrying the planks to and fro. You slip inside for a while to change into something more appropriate, a sweet and floral sundress that ties up at the straps and hugs you in a more womanly way. You’d rubbed your lips together as you fixed your hair in the mirror before bringing him a sandwich in the early afternoon. “You are adorable.” He grins when you do so, and it wasn’t quite the reaction you’d hoped for on your dress but it still made you warm in the face. He simply brought out a true primal bodily reaction from you— that’s why you’d skipped the panties under your dress. He was making you excited and slippery down there and you just didn’t see the point. You stay out for hours at a time to chat with him. Your affections grow.

John B. Routledge finally returns back to the house when he’s all finished and you let him lay down for a nap on your couch, finally getting some real rest in. Whilst he does so, you spend hours preparing a hearty meal — the type you reserve for when mama and papa have guests round. As the pie browns off just a moment longer in the oven, you come to the man’s side, kneeling beside him and stroking his fluffy hair back.

“I made dinner. Sure you’re really hungry.” You whisper and his eyes flutter once more, the arms that were crossed over his chest stretching out as he wakes. You sit back to give him space, and when he opens his eyes you’re there with a smile — the orange beam of sunset haloing your head. Something about an angel drafts through his mind once more and he stretches.

“Oh boy, I slept longer than I was meant to huh?” He sits up and you shrug, leading him through to the kitchen where you’d laid the round table. Steaming seasoned vegetables in a bowl, freshly picked by you. Warm bread, baked and scored by you with flowers the centrepiece of the table. A jug of gravy there too. There’s a tray of mashed potatoes waiting, creamy and delicious looking. Routledges stomach audibly growls and he chuckles at this as he sits down, taking in the scenery you’d laid out. “You… have spoiled me. All this for someone who breaks into your barn?” He chuckles as he lowers himself into the seat.

You follow him round the table with a giddy smile. “Told you I like havin’ guests.” You perch your bottom on his leg, an arm wrapped around his neck as your feet swing. It felt right. You’d always wanted to sit with a man this way, you’d seen it before in the picture shows. Man and wife, domestic bliss. His brows jump up and he clears his throat awkwardly.

“Oh… sweetheart, you shouldn’t do that. I am a— a stranger, after all.” He tries to do the responsible thing, even though there was something about your innocent brashness that was turning him on beyond belief. Your eyebrows knit in the centre, a line between them and your bottom lip seems to have doubled in size from how it pushes out.

“But I like you?” You mewl, rejected. It all seems so simple to you, which is probably feels super unfair. No one had taught you how to address men because you were so sheltered, and now it was giving you all of these complicated feelings that John B would have to deal with.

“And I like you — a whole bunch. You know I’m super grateful for you taking me in and… all that good stuff. But sitting right here is gonna… make me excited. Because I’m a guy. Go ahead and hop off for me.” He taps your lower back gently and you huff, feeling upset and rejected about the whole thing. His eyes are all wide and hopeful as he stares at you, like he wanted to make sure you were okay. The way he handles you so sweetly made your stomach stir despite your current mope.

You drag your feet to the oven comically and he stifles a chuckle at how dramatic you were, despite his sympathy. You place your hands into oven gloves and take out the pie— perfect and golden. You walk it to the table and John B sits up a little straighter, eyes darting between you and the food.

“Did this all by yourself? You have got a real knack for cooking. Should put you on the TV.” He grins, switching on the charm to attempt to loosen up your silent sulk. You nod, eyes casted down childishly and he reaches out to touch your arm. “Thank you, pretty girl.”

A small smile slips out, and he flickers his eyes over to the heart shape you’d scored onto the pie, his own lips twitching up into a smirk. “That for me?”

“Maybe.”

“Hmm.”

You end up giggling, his smile too infectious and your bad moment is all forgotten as you serve him a slice, plating up for him and then yourself before you eat. John B digs in ravenously, it’s almost erotic — the way he’s groaning at how good it all tastes, gravy dripping from his lips as he licks more off his fingers. He was clearly less proper-mannered than you, but you liked that. Table manners were for boring old people anyway. Maybe everything about him got you going, but you had to really concentrate on getting some food inside you instead of just watching the show of eating he was putting on.

Once you’re finished, and he’s finishing up on his third helping — you let your giggles die down from the wild goose chase story he relayed for you, one where he of course wound up the hero which only made your heart beat harder for him. Your socked foot begins to prod at his ankle, sliding up his leg until it rests in his lap. He doesn’t seem to mind, the food having lowered his guard just that bit as he leans back in his chair, undoing his belt. He adjusts his hips on the seat as he does so and your thighs clench.

“So what did you think?” You ask, though you think it’s clear that he liked the meal from the empty plates and unbuckled belt. He lets out a long satisfied sigh, gazing at you for a moment with a kind smile.

“I think, whoever gets to marry you is a lucky son of a bitch.” He presses his lips together, almost like he was disappointed about the idea of you with another. You blink, the hands resting beneath your chin dreamily slowly falling to play with eachother on the table.

“Why not you, John B?” You question sadly, giving him those eyes again. The ones that tug on his heart and made him wanna give you everything and anything you ask for. He lifts a napkin, bringing it to his mouth as he shakes his head dismissively, closing his eyes with a frown.

“Mm—mm.” The tissue fabric muffles the sound. “You don’t wanna marry me, believe me — okay, I’m an outlaw. Your parents would never in a billion years accept me. Anyway you… you deserve someone less rough and tumble, you know? Like a prince from a storybook. A bubblewrap life. Not… whatever this is.” He gestures to himself, more so the browned blood stain on his shirt.

You sigh, determined. “My parents would understand. They’re — they’re generous people.”

“Really? ‘Cus they don’t even let you leave the house.” He quips quickly in response, smirking at your naivety and you fall silent for a moment. His face flattens just a tad from guilt. You were far too soft for that kind of tone.

When you look up at him again, your face is more solemn — wide eyes searching his for a shred of understanding. “You don’t understand, John B. There are actual scary, dangerous men out there that would take me and do terrible things to me.”

The outlaw leans his elbows on the table, his lips stretched into an amused smile at the irony. There wasn’t an inkling of threat about the gesture, pure amusement coursing through the energy between you from his side alone. “And how do you know I’m not one of those scary, dangerous men. Hm?” His voice is warm, it seems to rumble straight from his chest. You release a shaky sigh.

“Well you haven’t hurt me yet?” Your voice lilts out, and you engage in a long stare off. There’s a different kind of tension in the air now, it’s hot and feels heavy on you. It oozes into the nooks and crannies of your balmy skin and slithers between your thighs. You can’t take the heat and you stand, beginning to bring his dishes to the sink to wash. It’s quiet for a while, John B watching you with this thoughtful and almost knowing smile as you tidy up around him. Even he couldn’t run from how good ‘domestic bliss’ felt.

You let yourself indulge in the fantasy too. Wife cleans up, husband sits behind at the table and sips at the drink she poured him. You wanted nothing more than to experience this everyday, and your heart sinks sadly at the fact that this will probably be the last. You lose yourself to thoughts and daydreams as you scrub away, to the point you nearly don’t hear him stand up, slowly walking to lean against the sink beside you.

You smile at him politely as he eyes you, and return your gaze to the plate in your hand. You mustn’t dwell. He moves, and soon he’s behind you, a hand resting against the sink beside your hip, head craning round to look at you from the other side. “You’re really serious about this husband and wife thing, aren’t you?”

“Very serious, sir.” You bat your lashes at him earnestly and his cock stirs in his pants at the title, unexpected but not unwelcomed. Bless your heart, you were only being courteous. He presses his lips together in thought and the side of your face warms with his slow exhale. Turning your body, you face him fully now. “I just think it was divine intervention that you wound up in my barn. You’re like an angel sent to take away my loneliness.” You’re shy, a little bashful about your beliefs and without thinking he cups your cheek in reassurance, thumb swiping slowly over the skin.

His eyes take in your every detail, and your lips part with a wobbly breath, nervous. “May I kiss you, John B?” You address, just as his thumb strokes the delicate skin below your eye. He grins, slightly amused by your formality and simply nods his head.

You stand on tip toes to reach him, socked feet almost knocking at his boots as your body presses to his, lips meeting. You’re a little messy, inexperienced— which comes as no surprise to the boy as he tilts his head, welcoming your mouth at another angle and taking control in order to guide you. You’re mostly a quick learner, slowing your pace to something much more sultry and he nearly can’t contain his excitement. He wants to be a gentleman, but as soon as he introduces his tongue — you lose composure, needy and all but panting into his mouth right then and there in the kitchen. He pulls away and breaks the string of saliva that connects your lips with his thumb, stroking it over your moist bottom lip as you stare at him readily.

He tilts his head, eyes wide and almost innocent as he gestures away. “You… want me to show you what husbands do with their wives?”

You nod so hard your eyes nearly roll back like one of those baby-dolls.

John B is the one to take your hand this time, leading you slowly and carefully through the house. You partially think he’s giving himself time to rethink what he’s about to do, but from the way your pussy is drooling into your panties — it feels set in stone. He finally reaches your bedroom and you watch his head move left and right as he takes it in, cheek lifting with a smile at the China dolls on the wall and the frilly white bedsheets. It’s clear your room hasn’t changed since you were a little girl. The sun is just starting to disappear behind your lace curtains and he switches on the lamp, sitting you down.

The man joins you, easing himself down at your side and cupping your cheek as he begins to kiss you again. He takes it slow, but the passion and need only grows as the splayed hand on your back begins to slide upwards until its cupping the back of your head and he’s beginning to slowly lower you to lie down like you’re made of glass.

Naturally you shuffle up the bed and he follows, hovering over you and leading with his tongue this time — the wet muscles wrapping around eachother languidly making you moan, legs falling wider apart.

“I wanna make you feel really good, okay? That okay with you?” He asks gently and you nod, sucking in a breath. You’d waited for something like this since you knew what pleasure was, craved the touch of a man with strong coarse hands and a wet mouth. Routledges thumbs swipe across your tits through your dress, massaging them until your nipples were poking painfully through the fabric as he burrows into your neck, licking and sucking.

Your whole body feels like it’s on fire as he tugs gently at your dress, eyes meeting yours once more.

“Let’s get this off, yeah?”

He tugs the garment up and over, puffing out his cheeks as he blows air out his mouth, brows raised at the sight of your naked body. You look so soft, so pliable beneath him. He was already hard just from kissing you, but this made him feel like he might combust. “Took your underwear off?” He smirks, pressing kisses to your stomach and between your tits before bringing his face up to eye level with you, same kind but teasing smile on his face. “Have you been needing me aaall day? Hm?”

You turn your head to the side, flustered and clammy with a whine— eyes screwed shut. He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Oh, now you’re shy?”

“No, s’just — when you speak like that— n’say stuff like that… makes me hurt…” You’re breathless, hips twitching and bucking slightly as he grins, pearly whites showing.

“Aw.” Is all he manages before continuing his descent down.

He’s a real tease, spending an ungodly amount of time on your tits— sucking, licking and biting your nipples until you’re arched off the bed, teary eyed and wincing from sensitivity. It’s then, and only then he starts to kiss lower, pushing himself down your pristine sheets until he’s settling between your legs, gently easing your ankles upwards so that your knees faced the sky, your cunt fluttering and open right infront of his face.

“Well she’s very pretty.” He smiles up at you, thumbs coming up to spread you. He leans in slowly, hot breath fanning over your heat before he simply presses the softest kiss to your clit. He draws back again as you whimper, running the pads of his thumbs up along your spread folds. “Hear that? So wet, pretty girl.” He marvels in a whisper.

“Just want you to make it better.” You mewl and he nods slowly in understanding, tongue swiping over his lips as he observes you.

“That I can definitely do.” He confirms before leaning in, licking and sucking at your clit as his thumb automatically rolls downwards to massage your hole. You gasp, knees shooting up towards your chest as he eats you, similarly to the pure fervour and passion he only recently devoured the meal you cooked for him. You wondered how any appetite remained.

When he sinks his middle finger inside you, your stomach tenses — a high pitched noise of relief and utter devastation leaving you. You had no idea how badly you’d craved fullness to this very moment, and you weren’t even halfway there. He’s smiling against you, glancing up as you flutter around his single digit and make plenty of noise for him. “Yeah? Think you’ve really been needing some of that, little girl.” He nearly laughs at your extreme reaction. He had to admit, it was fun doing this with someone so inexperienced. Everything to you seemed like the best thing ever.

He eats and eats away, proving himself to have quite the monstrous appetite for your slick . Your feet rest on his shoulders at one point, lost in pleasure as you whine and writhe and to keep you out of the way, the outlaw pushes your legs up and pins them there, nose deep in your gloss.

“Feels too good— feels— hurts!” You cry, because you don’t know how to put that you’re simply aching to cum.

“Doesn’t hurt, sweet girl. Just let it happen.” He corrects in that low reverberation that you’ve grown to love. After a series of ‘Uh’ and ‘Mm’s, you feel yourself hitting that peak — the one you usually reach all over the soft cotton of your pillow, but ten times the strength.

As soon as he senses this happening, he doubles down and continues repeating the same action with his mouth over and over until you’re squealing and pushing him away, curling into a ball as your completion dribbles out of your quivering hole.

He grins, real proud of himself as he pushes up on his hands to near you, gently shushing you the same way you would to soothe a baby to sleep. “I know, that was a lot huh?” He coo’s, rubbing your back with his warm hand as you suffer the aftershocks, clenching and whimpering, a smaller clammy hand reaching out to his shirt to grab a fist of it.

He forces you softly onto your back, stroking a hand over your warm forehead. For someone so convinced the two of you shouldn’t be together, he sure did look at you like you were his entire world. By the gaze shared, you would never know the two of you only met that morning.

“What now, hm?” He smiles, quiet. You open your mouth to speak, and your voice rasps from the loud and explosive release that had you calling out.

“Wanna… make you feel as good as you made me feel, John B.”

He licks his lips, thinking over it. If it wasn’t already clear, his dick was throbbing in his pants just from pleasing you— and had you wanted to end things there he would be sure to take a trip to the bathroom to finish in his hand. Maybe swipe a pair of your underwear from the basin for inspiration, but that made his stomach tense with guilt.

“Think I can manage that, yeah.” He nods before reaching slowly for his belt. “Sure?”

“Mhm.”

“Good, good.”

His belt is still undone from after dinner so he slides the snakey leather from its loops with one hand, the act more attractive than you anticipated which made you clench once more with need. He sits on the edge of the bed and you usher up beside him, pressing your naked body to him and ghosting your drooly lips over his jaw line as he sighs, working his length out of his pants.

“Oh my.” You breathe, as soon as you look down. Now you hadn’t had much experience in dealing with the male anatomy, clearly — but you knew for certain John B had to be miles larger than the average man. His cock stood tall, straight — slightly mauve towards the tip with a beautiful blue vein drifting down his shaft like a river on a mountain. His balls sat beneath, heavy and pink — inviting in a way that made your mouth water primally.

“Yeah? This is… what m’working with.” He chuckles, sounding a little nervous.

“How do I…” You mutter after a moment and he’s quick to take your hand, pressing your fingers so that it forms a cup and bringing it to your mouth.

“You wanna spit for me, pretty? Right here.” He encourages and whilst you don’t understand, you do as he wishes, letting a bubbly glob of saliva drool out into the cupped crevice of your hand. You look up at him with wide unsure eyes, searching for praise or reassurance that you’d done as he asked. He presses his lips together at the sweet and submissive expression, shifting his hips a tad in excitement. “Mm, fuck.” He punctuates with an airy chuckle, ticking his head in a single shake.

He brings your hand down and begins to smear it all over himself, releasing a shaky exhale as he does so. “So, uh… you’re gonna wanna move your hand. Just like this.” He sighs as he works your hand up and down his shaft, slowly jerking him off. Your eyes flicker between his face and pretty dick to make sure you were doing it right. As you do so, he presses a lingering kiss to your lips, muttering a “So sweet, bubba.” Against your mouth.

This only encourages you to gain confidence, doing whatever feels right. You twist your hand— squeezing just a tad harder towards the tip as that seemed to be what made him release that heavenly groan, jaw constantly agape as he watches your hand.

“Theeere you go sweetheart. Easy right? Like milking a cow.” He kisses your temple briskly once more before his eyes screw shut, chest heaving with quicker breaths. You get carried away, fascinated by the pearly precum that seeps from his slit as you work him with your hand and following your own judgment you lean down. You figure if he used his mouth on you, you could return the favour.

His eyes open with a loud shudder when you tentatively wrap your plush lips around his tip, working your hand up and down to try and squeeze more of the interesting salty flavour from him. You let out a long drawn out moan of your own as you feel your clit throbbing with desire, liberating his precum from your mouth to let it dribble back down his shaft in messy bubbles.

He winces, placing a hand on your shoulder and removing you with such an abrupt speed that you nearly flew off the side of the bed. You sit up straight, slick mouth pouting as your eyes flicker between his, worrying that you’d done something wrong. There’s a second of just looking at eachother, before you stumble over some words.

“S—Sorry. Did I hurt—”

“No, no God no. I uh— I just wasn’t sure if I should make a mess all over that pretty face just yet.” His wide eyed expression melts into a reassuring smile, thumb rising to swipe lovingly at your cheek. You lick your lips, savouring the taste of him and nod — not quite sure where to go from there.

Your silence makes him question, and he eyes you. “Is there… anything in particular you want now?”

You think, blinking your doll-like eyelashes off into the distance before nodding once more— pushing off away from him and scurrying to the head of the bed where you lay yourself gently on the pillows.

“Hm?” He follows up in confusion, craning his neck round to watch you.

“Would… like a baby now, please.” You spread your legs a little, shy and bashful in your request like you wasn’t sure if you’d asked impolitely. His face falls as he stares at you for a moment before closing his eyes, rubbing over his face with an exasperated chuckle, elbows on his knees.

As you stare at him with with an upset little pout, already ashamed by your forwardness. “Like husband and wife?” You try to justify and he sighs out his nose, turning his body fully to you.

“Oh sweet girl.” He tugs you gently lower toward him by your hips, rubbing his thumbs at your waist. “We just met.”

You launch into full fledged begging, whiny and high pitched with tears threatening to dive over their trough. “I’ll make you so happy John B, I’ll make all your problems go away and you won’t have to run anymore. Please?” You were deadset on this man giving you your dream life, and you’d officially pushed shame to the side in order to get this. His brow is permanently creased, staring with those big wide puppy dog eyes, continually stroking your skin in hopes to calm you.

“Are you… sure that’s what you want? You’re still young. So much time for all that.”

“Just want it now. I’d never be lonely again.” You sound defeated, staring down away from him now. He felt bad, he’d always hated disappointing people. Once upon a time he was a fixer, always running to his friends aid to make their problems go away. That urge never died, just burned low and quiet like an old candle flame. He wanted to make your problems go away too.

“Okay.” He presses his lips together. “I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart.”

He watches your devastated expression lift into a radiant grin, and it was like watching the sun appear from behind a grey cloud after weeks of downcast weather. “Yeah?” You chirp toothily as he crawls over you, leaking tip grazing your tummy and then your folds as he buries his face into your neck.

“Uh-huh.”

When he pushes his tip inside, John B says a prayer for the first time in his life.

He’d never really followed any religion. His father had been the type to say it was all a bunch of ‘Mumbo jumbo’ and that he should believe in the human psyche instead, or something like that. But as your wet folds swallow him and you release that high pitched mewl at the inevitable stretch — he finds himself asking God — please, please don’t let me knock this young girl up.

There’s a warm blanket of chills that cover his spine as he slowly sheathes inside of you, feeling like he was pushing deeper and deeper into a black hole that would selfishly keep sucking him inside for the rest of his life. It felt too good, calming — like falling asleep. He was euphoric.

“So — so big inside me!” Your cry knocks him out of his thoughts and he kisses your shoulder before looking down to watch himself push in all the way to the hilt.

“Feel okay, gorgeous?”

You nod, a pained whine falling from you as you dig your nails into his skin, walls fluttering around him like they were constantly trying to accommodate for this thickness. “Fuck.” He groans, before sliding back a little and starting to thrust. Yeah, he wasn’t gonna last too long— he needed to get to work on you fast.

As he gently fucks into you, your plush tits recoil with the movement and he can’t close his mouth, sounds and sighs leaving him without permission. A hand slides between the two of you, the other pulling his shirt up to grip between his teeth— giving himself a better view of the way he strokes at your clit — your legs being spread exposing it, making it easier for him.

You clench, and shudder — that sweet face contorting with each time his tip ever so slightly grazes your cervix, careful not to bruise it. You really were beautiful, that type of homely beauty he’d thought of marrying in his lonely nights of travelling through desert and grass. The type of girl you work for, the type that deserves spoiling, princess treatment. The more he fucks, the more he’s convincing himself that impregnating you might not be the most awful thing after all. Why should he chase away security?

Your fingertips grace his chest, and he takes your hand — pinning it to the bed as your fingers intertwine, using the grip to aid his rolling thrusts— speeding up the pace and force now he knew you could take it like a champ. His mouth opens to speak, and his shirt drops out of it.

“Taking me real good baby. You like getting fucked, don’t you?” He coo’s and you can only nod, tears gathering in the corner of your eyes before rolling down to your temples. Poor thing, lost for words.

There’s a wet slapping sound with each thrust, your cunt equally gushing as it was thirsty — hungrily welcoming each inch of his, and even demanding more by locking your ankles around his lower back. Perhaps you did it for comfort, or perhaps because you suspected a hesitance, the threat of him pulling out last minute too much for your baby-crazed brain.

“Jesus. Sweet little puppy.” He breathes like it’s a revelation beneath your ear, the curly tuft of hair above his shaft tickling you as he continues to rub your clit.

“S’gonna happen again, John B. The big feeling.” You strain, eyes clamped shut and sniffling— too overwhelmed by your impending orgasm. He kisses each eye lid and watches you closely, experiencing you unfold once more.

“Thats my good girl. Let me have it, pup. Gimme a good one.”

You’re an explosion of whimpers and moans, thrashing under his firm grip once more— and he’s not sure when your orgasm ends, if it even ends at all— he doesn’t care, the release pushing him close to his own. He speeds up his pace, hand that was at your clit now wrapping around your lower back, forearm pushing your lower half up and against him, forcing you to just keep taking him.

He was like a beast from a fairytale book, fucking wildly into you with a primal determination that had you struggling to breathe. You’re crying now, full out crying because it’s just so much. There’s still one last thing you require, and only he can give you it.

“You wanna make me daddy, huh?” He demands, that gentleness in his voice gone. It’s nearly unrecognisable from him, and you preen beneath the rough touch.

“Mhm!”

“Words.” He barks. He didn’t mean to be mean, he just got a little bossy when he was close. You’d come to learn that.

“Please give me a baby. Please just — make you a daddy! Need it!” You’re squealing, voice shaking from the hard ‘plap plap plap’ of his balls slapping against you. You feel you might pass out if this goes on much longer.

He releases with a long groan, lips dropping to the centre of your chest and back arching upwards. You register his sounds before you feel it, hot slimy ropes of him— shooting up inside you, warming your walls. You moan too, because it feels so good to be full. It feels right, like this was what had been missing after all.

Everything is a blur for the next few minutes. It’s like you black out a little, because maybe you forgot to be breathing like you should have been. You briefly recall John B scooping you up and helping you through that, ignoring the gooey seed dripping from you to cradle you like a baby, humming a calm “Breathe, sweetheart. In and out. With me, c’mon.” Your gentle boy was back, and through your haze you smile.

Once you’re tucked at his side beneath a soft cotton blanket, his hand stroking over your head after cleaning you up, a whispered conversation ensues.

“Do you really like me John B? Like, you really think I’m beautiful?” You inquire, gazing up at him with stuck together black eyelashes. The question was so innocent, yet he could tell it was so meaningful.

His expression doesnt falter, a gentle smile sat comfortably on his lips as he continues to pet you. “Baby, I think you’re the ponds swan. Just… gotta get to know you a little better, okay? ‘Specially if I really did put a baby in you.” Only then his smile falters, brows knitting as the reality sets in. Oh Lord.

“Okay.” Your eyes flutter closed, happy to leave it at that, happy to fall asleep right by his side under his watchful eye. It was unnerving how safe a lonely girl could feel with a stranger.

“Okay. Good girl. It’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out.” He quietly reassures, watching you drift off. He’s not sure if he’s trying to dispel your fears, or his own.

#outlaw!johnb #john b fic 🎀

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joelscruff · 1 year

Text

needy baby (boyfriend's dad!joel x f!reader) 18+

series masterlist | kofi | so this is FILTH. like. please heed the warnings before reading. i would recommend reading the rest of the series in order to really understand reader's headspace here, but if not, the previous part "wait" should be enough to make it make sense, as this does tie into what happened in that part. summary: joel takes care of you in every way you need. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: daddy kink, age gap, dirty talk, praise kink, unprotected p in v, creampies, comeplay, tummy bulge, size kink, mild free use, sub space (reader is very disconnected from reality), cockwarming, pussy eating, squirting, deepthroating, face fucking, wall sex, floor sex, AS I SAID.... FILTH word count: 4k

you practically live in joel's bed now.

it's only been three days since he picked you up at the bus stop, brought you back and took care of you the way he always has, the way he knows best. and he hasn't stopped since he finally admitted his feelings for you, face buried in your bare shoulder with his cock still deep inside of you.

he fucks you every morning. every afternoon. every night. you have absolutely no idea where he gets the stamina, how the fuck he's able to keep going and going, but you're certainly not complaining. your bodies have practically melded into one at this point, warm and sticky and safe amid groans and whimpers that match each other, heartbeats that pound at the same rhythm.

you shower - together. you take snack breaks - together. you sleep - together. and in between he fucks you in every possible position the two of you can manage, big hands roaming the softness of your body, the sheer size of him dwarfing you whenever he's on top, beneath, behind.

you find that ever since you reunited with him, you feel different. you feel sort of disconnected from reality, from the real world, everything you left behind that night. your parents don't know where you are - although you doubt they care very much. you've missed three days of classes, were supposed to turn in a paper yesterday morning. you're essentially dead to the world and you find that you like it. you like that only joel knows where you are. you like that only joel knows who you are, has always known.

you've never been so lost in this dynamic you share, never gone so long without saying his real name or simply being apart. sure, you've always let him take control in the moments you've shared, have always been the smaller, softer one in his big and capable hands, have wanted it that way - but never like this. a broad and seemingly unlimited time period spans in front of you; there's no rush, no sneaking around, no threat of being found out. you're completely at his mercy, letting him do anything he wants, enjoying him doing anything he wants.

he periodically checks to make sure that you're alright, that you still want what's happening. it's been three full of days of him practically controlling your autonomy, keeping you locked away from the rest of the world in his bedroom, and he's rightfully concerned, though not necessarily complaining.

"i want this," you reassure him softly for what feels like the tenth time, cupping the greying scruff on his cheek as you lie together on his bed after he fucked you deep into the mattress til you saw stars, "just wanna be yours for a while, daddy," you lean forward to brush your nose against his, eyelashes fluttering tiredly against your cheeks.

"you tell me the second anything changes, okay?" he whispers. his legs are tangled with yours beneath the sheets, soft hair tickling your bare ankles, "if it gets to be too much, we stop."

"i will," you whisper, then lean in to kiss him softly, "i promise."

"daddy, i'm gonna come again," you whine, legs close to giving out as he presses you up against the wall opposite his bed, his large body pinning you against the cool surface. he's so fucking deep, has made a home within the innermost parts of your body, so far inside you can feel the tip of his cock poking through the pouch at the bottom of your tummy.

"i know, baby, i know," he pants in your ear, thrusting harder and faster and deeper, your bodies pounding into the solid expanse of the wall, "come on that cock, sweet girl. make her sing, come on darlin'," his hands are gripping your hips so tightly, his lips sucking a mark into your shoulder alongside the dozens of others he's left there over the past few days.

you shake in his arms, eyes rolling back as desperate sounds tear from your throat, rip through the room like animalistic snarls. you go practically limp and he has to hold you up, doesn't stop moving, just keeps fucking and taking and using.

he finishes only a moment later, pulsing deep inside as he bites into the tender skin of your shoulder and gives all of it to you. you're still full of him from this morning, thighs sticky with everything that's dripped out over the course of the past few hours.

"so much, daddy," you whimper, feeling his grip on your hips lessen slightly, hearing him groan as his cock continues to twitch and pump you full of his release, "so much, can feel all of it."

"i know, babygirl," he whispers, voice positively wrecked, "gotta keep you so full, gotta make you remember who owns this little pussy, right?"

"right," you agree softly, forehead leaning wetly against the wall.

"and who owns it, baby?"

"you do, daddy," you whisper back.

"good girl," he nuzzles his face into your neck; you can feel the sweat dripping down his jaw, hear him trying desperately to catch his breath as he moans against your skin, "such a good fuckin' girl for your daddy. just made to take this fuckin' cock."

you're both only able to lean against the wall for another moment before you're completely exhausted. he's still so deep, cock softening but not moving, staying pressed firmly within your walls. his hand comes up to rest on your tummy, pressing kisses all over your shoulder.

"feelin' full, baby?" he murmurs, "feelin' good?"

"so good," you sigh, eyes closing and tears stinging behind your lids - good tears, happy tears, fucking joyous tears - "want you to fuck me again, daddy. do it again."

he makes a strangled noise into your skin and then starts walking backwards with you, arms wrapping around your middle and tugging you toward the bed. you both fall down onto it in a heap, still gasping for air but not wanting to part from each other unless absolutely necessary.

"how many times is that now?" he mumbles, chest heaving against your back.

"i don't know," you admit honestly. your head leans back to rest against his sticky shoulder, tangled hair dripping onto his chest. his hands come up to squeeze your breasts, pull you harder against him like he never wants to let go. and you know he doesn't.

"just wanna fuck you over and over again," he whispers, breath hot against your neck, "take care of you. wanna show you who you belong to."

"i belong to you," you breathe, opening your legs and peering down at where you're still connected.

"good girl," he groans, and his hips jerk as his cock twitches inside you, "good fuckin' girl."

you both lay there catching your breaths for about five more minutes before joel slowly pulls out of you, the wet squelch borderline pornographic in the silence of his bedroom. you both listen as your pussy releases some of his come, eyes trailing down to watch the warm white liquid dribble down onto the sheets.

"fuckin' full of me," he murmurs, reaching a hand down to thumb some of it back inside, cupping your pussy with the palm of his hand. you whimper, bucking into it and biting down hard on your lip.

you've never felt so desired in your life, so wanted and taken care of. you could fall asleep right now and know that you're safe, know that joel will make sure all your needs are met before he gives it to you all over again. this is all you've needed this whole time, from the moment you stepped through your ex boyfriend's door and came face to face with the man whose arms were so warm around you in that first hug, the same arms you nestle comfortably in now.

"i love you, daddy," you mumble softly, eyelashes fluttering as your exhaustion takes over, "love you so much."

"i love you too, babygirl," he breathes, pulling his hand up and hugging you from behind again, "rest now for a little while."

he runs you a bath and wakes you when it's full, carries you to the bathroom and places you inside the tub. you drift off again as he washes you, wipes you clean of all the sweat and tears and come, stays with you until he has to wake you up again to dry you off. you're nothing more than a doll in his arms, pliant and loose, allowing him to touch you everywhere he needs to before carrying you back to bed where he's already replaced the sheets.

he makes you a snack - popcorn, your favorite. feeds it to you with a knowing look that makes you squirm under his gaze. as he pops a kernel into your mouth you find yourself wrapping your lips around his finger and thumb, tongue slowly licking off the butter and salt. you push the popcorn to the back of your cheek and instead focus entirely on sucking joel's fingers, wet and tight.

"oh babygirl," he breathes, voice soft, "need daddy's cock again, huh? need to suck on it, don't you?"

you nod, already desperate, eyes big and round as he pushes his fingers further into your mouth, presses down on the back of your tongue. you swallow around him lewdly, eyes watering.

"open," he whispers, and you obey, only for him to slowly pull his fingers out - along with the popcorn in your cheek - and then stand up by the edge of the bed, reaching for his zipper, "nice and wide, baby."

a moment later you're choking on the thick length of his cock, the tip prodding the back of your throat while he tangles his fingers in your hair and peers down at you calmly, eyes dark, hips slowly thrusting.

"thaaat's it," he whispers, helping you move your head back and forth as he fucks your face, "there you go, sweet girl. that's what you needed, huh?"

your head is swimming, eyes full of tears, heart full of love and devotion as you lock your gaze with his and moan around his cock. his brow furrows as he looks at you, nods in your direction with eyes that soothe and relax you.

"daddy's good little girl," he murmurs, and pride swells in your chest.

he goes down on you a lot. especially in the morning, when you're just slowly waking up and don't have the energy to get on all fours or climb on top of him to ride. he crawls down beneath the sheets and noses your puffy pussy lips, presses kisses all over the parts that feel raw and tender. he laps at your folds, eyes hooded and hazy like he's enjoying a delicacy he's never experienced before, every single time.

"poor baby," he murmurs, pulling back to pull apart your lips and peer down at your fucked-out hole, "so used, honey," he licks a stripe up your pussy and you writhe in the sheets, "daddy used her all up, huh?"

you look down at him with a pout, eyes large and innocent, "she likes getting used, daddy," you whisper.

"i know she does," he agrees quietly, then slowly prods his tongue inside, licking at your pulsing walls and sucking on all your favorite spots, leaving you a whimpering and whining mess above him.

he makes you squirt, something you only discovered you could do yesterday, something he's now made you do at least six times since that first time. your wetness coats his lips, his chin, drips down his jaw all over the sheets as he leans back in and laps up every drop he can manage. your eyes roll back, hoarse cries croaking past your lips as another steady stream of your release practically pistons into his mouth. he groans as he swallows, low and deep.

it's dirty. it's intense. it's real.

you find yourselves splayed together on the floor of his bedroom on the third day, nothing but a throw blanket between your bodies and the hardwood. your head rests against the soft expanse of his tummy, the hair above his belly button tickling your ear as he breathes in and out.

he just fucked you so good. practically bent you in half against the floor with your ankles dangling by your ears. he was so deep; so fucking deep that he had you screaming for him, screaming so high and loud and wild that he'd had to cover your mouth before the neighbors called the cops. he'd let out a multitude of his own loud noises when he'd come inside you, holding you still while he filled you to the brim and then released his hand from your mouth so you could let out one last pathetic whine.

now he cards his fingers through your hair, hums something soft and angelic somewhere above you while you drift in and out of consciousness. you've never felt so close to another person in your life.

"so sleepy, babygirl," he whispers in between his humming, scratches a pleasant spot behind your ear, "all tuckered out, huh?"

you make a quiet noise of agreement, nestling your cheek further into the squishy warmth of his belly. his cock rests low and flaccid only a few inches away, a sight that makes your mouth water all over again. you're starting to wonder if you'll ever be sated. you don't ever want to leave this room.

"daddy's gonna run another bath for you," he murmurs, "that sound nice?"

you nod, still unable to really say anything. your body aches, your jaw is sore, your skin is covered in love bites and small bruises. a bath sounds very nice right about now.

"you doin' okay, baby?" he adds softly, still running his fingers through your hair, "you with me?"

you're not really sure how to answer that. you still don't really feel like yourself. he knows that too, but just wants to check and make sure you're still in this headspace. he's probably wondering when you're ever going to come out of it. if you're ever going to come out of it.

"i'm with you, daddy," you mumble, pressing a featherlight kiss to his tummy, "i'm here."

you can miss class, but joel can't miss work, at least not for long. he's eased himself of a few of his duties, handed some stuff over to his employees via email, but there are certain things he can't avoid for very long. luckily though, he can work from home.

early on the fourth day - after eating your pussy for about twenty minutes and making you come three times - he leans against the headboard with his laptop placed precariously on his belly and answers some emails, does his best to do some of the work he's behind on. you sleep for most of it, but wake up when you hear him chatting to someone on the phone beside you.

"gonna have to change that," he's saying quietly, cell pressed up against his ear, "the crew's not gonna be happy."

you peer up at him with a sleepy expression, blinking a few times. he only notices you've woken up when you stretch your arms above your head, breasts peeking out from under the sheets - you see his gaze drop to them immediately.

he points to the cell and makes a face, mouthing sorry and rolling his eyes, making you giggle. he wastes no time in reaching over and squeezing one of your breasts in his palm, then starting to toy with your hardening nipple as he continues the conversation.

"no, that won't work either," he says, pinching it between his thumb and finger and making you jolt a bit, "last thing we need is another person quittin' on us for shit we coulda prevented."

you look up at him, dazed and already wet underneath the sheets as he rolls your nipple between his fingers over and over, the corner of his mouth twitching up when you inch a bit closer to him, pushing your chest out for easier access.

"how about we just do what was already suggested?" joel continues, and you watch his eyes grow dark when you pull the sheet down and expose your naked body to him in its entirety, opening your legs and showing him your already glistening pussy, still wet and juicy from his saliva and your arousal, "yeah," he says, voice hitching a bit, "yeah, that's good."

he closes his laptop and places it on the nightstand, then turns back to you and carefully pulls down his own side of the sheet with one hand, showing you his equally naked body - and hardening cock.

"that should work," he says quietly, then points to his length, tilting his head slightly as he peers into your eyes, "yeah, that's what we need."

you climb into his lap, wasting no time in taking hold of his cock and positioning it at your entrance. you sink down onto it with hooded eyes, mouth popping open as he fills you with a calm expression, still talking on the phone.

"good," he says, "that sounds good. that's what we'll do."

you're still tired and achy, not really able to hold yourself up properly from everything your body has been through over the past three days. riding him was so much easier on that first day when your thighs didn't feel so sore. as if he can read your mind he wraps an arm around your back and pulls you in so you're chest to chest, allows you to place your chin on his shoulder as you bottom out on his length and sigh delicately in his ear. he trails his fingers up and down your back, noses your ear gently.

"so, what about the transportation issue?" he asks into the phone, tightening his arm around you and holding you still on his cock, like he just wants you to sit there until he's done the conversation - something you have absolutely no issue doing. "uh huh, yeah, that'll need to be in writing."

you stay connected like that for the next half an hour, pussy throbbing continuously around his length and getting wetter and wetter the longer he drones on and on with whoever it is from his company that's got a matter so pressing it couldn't be done through an email. hearing the faint sound of another person talking sends a sort of recognition into your brain you hadn't been expecting - a reminder that other people actually exist outside of this bedroom, that life is continuing to go on.

you can feel the spell starting to be broken and you're not sure how it makes you feel.

by the time he finally hangs up the phone you find that you've started to come back to some semblance of reality, whatever your reality is at this point. you remember that you have a phone somewhere, in your bag - wherever that's ended up in the clutter of joel's room - and that you might have unread messages, missed calls. you remember the fact that you had a paper to turn in and it sends a wave of anxiety to the pit of your stomach. you remember why you're here in the first place, how awful the other night had been until joel picked you up.

joel hangs up the phone and tosses it to the side, then wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer, buries his nose in your neck and breathes in.

"you're such a good girl, baby," he murmurs, big hands traveling skillfully up and down your spine, "so patient on daddy's cock."

you don't say anything, brow furrowed and expression completely out of his view as you hitch your chin on his shoulder and dig your fingers into his back.

"need to be fucked, baby? or do you just wanna sit on it for a little while longer?" he still hasn't sensed a change, still waiting to make the decisions, half expecting you to mumble something incoherent.

"um, actually," you say softly, voice gravely and dry, "i think... i think i need some air."

he pulls back immediately to peer at your face, eyebrows going up in surprise when he sees you. you're not sure how you've appeared to him over the past few days, probably had a permanent look of ecstasy on your face, innocent and naïve, oblivious to everything. he must see something different now; recognition, realization, something that shows you're coming out of it.

"of course," he breathes, hands going down to carefully pull you up from his cock. you wince at the strain of your muscles as you lift yourself from his lap and settle on the bed again, making a face. you feel his finger on your chin as he tilts your head up to look at him, expression one of pure concern and love.

"are you back, babygirl?" he asks softly, eyes soft, "feelin' like yourself again?"

you swallow around the lump in your throat, nodding slowly as tears blur your vision, "i think so," you hiccup, "and i don't like it."

he sits with you on his back patio, lets you lean against the solidness of him on the wooden steps as you stare out at the trees and grass, the blue expanse of sky and singing birds.

you cry for a long time. you don't really know why.

he makes you pasta for dinner, puts on cheesy 80s music and dances dorkily around the kitchen as it boils in the pot. you sit on a stool by the island and just shake your head at him with a genuine smile and tired eyes, hair wet from your first shower without him in days. you're wearing your own clothes again, freshly washed. you feel a bit more yourself now.

things are starting to make a bit more sense as time passes. you figure it all caught up to you that night, much more than you'd realized. you'd thought it would all be okay once you were back in joel's embrace, but you'd still been running from things you couldn't face. the things you'd been through, the things you'd done.

"you just needed to... not think for a while," joel tells you softly as his fingers card through your hair later that night. you both lie together in the dewy grass of his backyard, staring up at the stars, breathing in the cool air. "that's the only way i can think to explain it."

you nod slowly, biting your lip, "i was so annoying," you say with a grimace, "like i literally demanded every second of your attention, didn't i? i'm so sorry."

"babygirl, i am not complaining," he murmurs with a chuckle, pulling you in a bit closer, "it was nice. it was... fun."

you smile, "it was. it was fun."

you cuddle with him as the evening turns into night, quiet and safe. you never thought you'd get to this point, never thought you'd ever be able to just exist with him, just be.

"my only complaint," he suddenly says, a bit of a grumbly edge to his voice, "is that i think i destroyed my back."

you snort, bringing your hand up to cover your mouth.

"i'm serious," he groans quietly, nosing your hair, "i'm gonna have to go to a chiropractor after all that."

you can't help but laugh, pressing a kiss to the corner of his jaw as you smile up at him.

"sorry, daddy."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #fic: bd!joel #*

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hanaonesflower · 2 years

Text

“Princess, can I ask you something?” He speaks, breaking the silence of the long, uneventful car ride. “Sure, anything!” You chirp, unsuspecting of what is to come.

“Why don’t you ever let me do anything for you?” Ushijima says, his eyes remain fixated on the long stretch of roads ahead. The fog heavily roll down the sides the hills on your either sides, lowering visibility. His hand tightens around the wheel, while the other grips yours.

“What do you mean by that?” You sit back, eyes wandering his features, looking for any sign that he’s just cheerfully asking you. Knowing Ushi though, he’s sometimes not as light hearted as you’d think.

“You are always so insistent on doing everything yourself. You won’t let me help you, like earlier, when you refused to let me tie your shoes. That isn’t the first time you refused my help.” He goes on a spiel, his thumb reaches to the toggle and lowers the volume, making his breathing more prominent than ever. It has occur to you that you have always been doing everything by yourself despite his looming figure always by your side. The hyperindependence is slowly starting to bother him. He wants to help you, wants to give you the fullest extent of a princess treatment yet the only thing really holding him back from that is, you.

“It’s just something that I could easily have done for myself, you didn’t need to bother with that, don’t worry, baby,” you try to comfort him, hoping some words of affirmation can help. It really isn’t a big deal, it’s some shoe laces that came undone, not a heavy errand.

As soon as the car is pulled into a parking spot at a rest stop, quickly shifting the car in “park”, turning to you and he sighs. A real sigh. One so full of frustration and… hopelessness. “I’m not bothered. It has never mattered how big or small anything is, I want to do everything for you. Why are you holding yourself back from me?” He is starting to put things into perspective for you. After going through a useless ex-boyfriend, then a man who gave you hot and cold attention, lastly a guy who gave you princess treatment to fill his inflated ego before meeting Ushijima, learning to only rely on yourself has been the protector of your heart, your soul and your sanity. You find that by depending on your good ol’ self is the only way to prevent yourself from throwing your body off a bridge.

“Ushi, it’s not—,” before you can finish your sentence, truthfully you don’t really know what to say. He’s right, you are holding yourself back from him. Holding yourself back from the hurt that you’ve known all too well, he interrupts, holding both your hands in his, “baby, you’re my priority, my everything, your well-being, happiness and comfort are my main concerns and I want it to be that way,” he stops, taking a breath. Reminiscent of the times where Ushijima offered to go so out of his way to help you but being kindly turned down has left him feeling absolutely useless and uneasy. Ushijima’s love language is act of service and because he hasn’t been able to do the bare minimum for you, he feels it eating him alive.

“I am aware of your past, I know that I can’t change what was, but I’m here to make a difference now, I mean it!” You are moved by his words, he means what he says and you know it. You’ve seen it. He’s a big man of his words, always keeping promises, has never ever disappointed you in any way. Yet the walls have been reinforced many times again that it has cemented itself in your life, creating a barrier between the two of you. “I want to open doors for you, pull out chairs for you, pick you up from a friend’s house, drop you off at the airport, all of that, please, baby, please just let me.” You have to say, it is like he is begging for you to allow him in, allow him to integrate further into your system, a system you’ve built to keep you from going down a slippery slope time and time again.

“I’m so grateful for you, Ushi, you’ve done so much for me, you really have. I just feel like I can’t be asking for anymore than what you’ve already given me,” before you can inhale a full breath, he branches his body over to your side of the car and kisses you deeply, so deeply that you melt. “I’m at your disposal, you are my world, let me in, don’t keep shutting me out,” he says, breaking away from the kiss.

You chuckle, “yes, Wakatoshi, I accept your offer,” and you’ve never seen him smile wider. A big, toothy grin coming from the infamously stoic dude. He kisses you again, “thank you, baby.”

He unbuckles your seatbelt, hastily running from his side to yours and opening the door for you, and just like the universe is rooting for the both of you, your shoe laces come undone, again.

#haikyu fluff #hehe I wrote this in 20 minutes #haikyu imagines #ushijima x you #ushijima x reader #haikyu ushijima #ushijima imagine #ushijima imagines #ushijima fluff #ushjima wakatoshi #haikyuu ushiwaka #hq drabbles #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyu headcanons #⌑ 5 LL series ⌑

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hisxthighs · 11 months

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KINKTOBER, october 24 — jake, bondage

includes: jake x y/n, bondage, edging, orgasm denial, fleshlight

—

you finally convinced your boyfriend to let you tie him up for once. usually jake was always the one dominating you, taking control. but you wanted to see just how badly you could mess him up.

jake was chucking, rolling his eyes as you locked the fluffy hand cuff around his first wrist. “where’d you even get this kinky shit from?”

his shirt was already torn off because you wouldn’t be able to remove it if his hands were huffed. grabbing the second hand cuff to lock his other wrist to the headboard, you kissed his forehead. “shut up,” you smiled innocently as you locked eyes with him.

he bit his lip, tilting his head, “the dominant role doesn’t suit you baby, why don’t we just give up with all this and you can let me take control of you-”

you roll your eyes as he tries to convince you to stop. “i said shut up.” you kiss down his neck which causes his eyes to flutter shut.

“and what if i don’t?” he whispers, his tongue sliding across the inside of his cheek. your eyes narrow up to that sight and you reply with, “then i’ll leave you tied up here with this erection of yours.”

that made jake shut up. he was watching you straddle his lap, kissing down his smooth chest. you even licked his nipple to see if you could get a reaction out of him — which he bit down on his lip even harder, eyes squeezing shut — “oh? how come i never knew you had such sensitive nipples?” you gently nibble one which causes him to groan.

your tongue laps his nipple one last time before trailing down his stomach, wet slobbery kisses touching his bare skin. you reach the hem of his sweatpants, your hand palming your boyfriends hard-on over the fabric. you could feel it practically throbbing.

“are you really that turned on?” you giggle, watching his facial expressions change the second you allow his cock to hit the cold air. his eyebrows furrow and he licks his lips. you do nothing but tap the tip of his cock with your finger, playing with the bead of precum that has already risen to his tip.

as you continue to tease his cock, giving him absolutely no friction other than the tapping of your finger on his sensitive tip, jakes body twitches, hands pushing into fists as he tries to lunge forward, forgetting he was tied up. he uses his legs instead to thrust his hips upwards, whining as he wants more friction.

“jake.” you tilt your head, looking up at him.

“fuck.” he watches you kneel in front of him.

“c’mon, say it.” you smile, licking your lips as you keep eye contact with him. your eyes stay focused on his face rather than his muscles that were flexing on each side of his head.

“mmm…” he turns his head to look away from you. you sigh, crawling off of the bed and grabbing your car keys next to the bed, your boyfriend watching you get ready to leave him behind.

“wait, no-” jake throws puppy eyes at you which always make you so weak. but you had to stand your ground. if he wasn’t gonna ask you for anything then there would be no point in helping him get off. “please touch me.. don’t leave.”

your eyes narrow down to his cock which twitched the second you looked at it. you cross your arms and look back up at his face. jake tilts his head to get the fallen strand of hair out of his face.

“please…” he slightly bucks his hips up and you immediately shut it down. pushing his hips down on the bed, you say, “fine but you’re not allowed to move.”

“but-”

“no.”

you hear jake gulp loudly as you begin to stroke his cock. he whimpers the second your hand grabs a hold of it. you straddle his waist to make sure he doesn’t move, leaning in forward as you give him a quick peck on his lips. then, you grab the blindfold that you had waiting on the bedside table.

“c’mon, do you really have to-”

“jake, sweetie… you promised you’d let me do anything to you today. remember?”

the last thing he sees before you pull the blindfold over his eyes is your evil, innocent smile. he bites his lip, unsure of what you were going to do next. he feels you get off of him, listening to you rustling through the drawer. it goes quiet for a moment until he feels your weight shift back on his body.

“a-ah!” he moans out as you kiss his tip unexpectedly. he bucks his hips while you’re straddling his waist, your back down facing him as you’re kneeling down to lick his precum up. you knew that you’d be too light to keep his hips down but you wanted to try anyways.

“baby, don’t move your hips, you know better than that.”

he nods aggressively, a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead. you take hold of the toy you grabbed from the drawer when you first blindfolded jake, smirking at the fleshlight. jake swears he could hear you spit, his heart pounding as he can’t see anything but darkness. biting your lip, you slowly sink the fleshlight down onto his cock, already having it lubed up from your spit.

“fuuuck,” he whines, head tilting back to lean on the headboard. you slowly move it up and down his length. of course it didn’t feel as good as your pussy but when he was this horny, fuck it felt good. your speed gradually gets faster and jakes forcing himself not to buck his hips because he was terrified that you’d stop if he did. his wrists were twitching in their place, wanting so badly to grab the toy and fuck it as hard as he could.

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” jakes mouth is opened as his back is arching. your other hand is gently massaging his balls as the one with the fleshlight is only getting faster.

“faster! fasterrrr- pleeeeaseee,” he’s moaning so loudly and you can’t help but move your hips against his stomach, trying to get rid of the aching pain of arousal in your cunt.

“can i- can i cum-”

you feel bad, almost giving in but you don’t. you stop moving your hand when you feel his balls tighten in your hand and he whines loudly. “FUCK- WHY- why’d you stop,” you look back to see a string of drool dripping down his chin.

“because i like seeing you like this… you look so needy,” you turn your body around to face his, kissing his lips hungrily. he wasn’t expecting it of course, he was blindfolded so he couldn’t see your next move. speaking of next move, you were already back to fucking his cock with the fleshlight.

after edging him three more times, watching your boyfriends body twitch at any touch to his cock, you finally let him cum. your hand is tightly holding the fleshlight, pounding it on his cock hard and fast. he’s moaning, almost screaming when he finally cums. you can see the white ropes leak out from the sides down his cock.

“t-thank you,” he whimpers when you pull the fleshlight off of him. you turn back around to lift his blindfold.

“you didn’t think we were done, did you?”

#enhypen smut #smut #enhypen #jake enhypen smut #jake enhypen #sim jaeyun smut #jake sim smut #sim jaeyun #sim jake #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #kinktober #park sunghoon #enhypen jungwon smut #heeseung smut #jay jongseong park smut #kinktober smut

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mountainsandmayhem · 3 months

Text

Do Your Worst, Little Dove

Little Dove Masterlist

Pairing: Sub!Joel Miller x Female Reader

Rating: 18+

Summary: Joel lets you take charge for once.

Word Count: 7.2K

CW: Submissive Joel, spitting, oral (male receiving), toys, anal play, light bondage, praise kink, slight degradation kink, Joel is having the best time while simultaneously having the worst time

AN: I don’t know what came over me with this one, but like….I think I might be a dom? Thank you @mermaidgirl30, @littlevenicebitch69 and @joelmillerisapunk for dealing with me yelling about this. Love you all

Joel lets out a hiss as you tighten the leather cuff around his wrist. The metal buckle rubs roughly against the smooth black leather as you bind his arms to the headboard. He balls his fists and the veins in his forearms start to pop below the skin. You step to the end of the bed and admire your handy work. He looks fucking hot - in just his unbuttoned jeans, arms stretched above his head, wrists bound together and tethered to the bed.

“Are you sure about this, Joel?” You ask timidly, even though you’re jumping for joy on the inside at the chance to play with him for once.

He lifts his head off the bed to look at you, “Yes, baby. If you want to try being in charge, I’ll sub for you.”

You bounce on the balls of your feet and smile sweetly at him, “ok good.”

You walk towards your closet, and his head falls back to the bed, turning to rest his cheek on the mattress as he watches you. “Because I’ve been thinking,” you say, your back towards him as you slide open your closet door, “well, I’ve been thinking about what kind of domme I am.”

“That right?” Joel says as you dig through one of the drawers, looking for the sexy little outfit you bought for tonight.

“Mmmhmm and I don’t think I’m a whips and leather type - ah, there you are,” you hide the lingerie from Joel’s view and sneak into the bathroom to change, with a quick glance at Joel you notice his cock already getting hard behind his jeans.

You undress before sliding on a pair of baby blue lacy panties. They have little yellow and pink flowers embroidered on them, that are paired with a matching corset that plunges deep between your breasts. It hugs you in all the right places and you know Joel is going to lose his mind.

“Little Dove? You coming back?” He calls from the bedroom. You smirk at yourself in the mirror. He’s needy for you for once, and that’s a very powerful feeling.

You slip on your white silk dressing gown and head back to the bedroom. “That’s another thing I was thinking of. What are you going to call me? Because I am certainly not your Little Dove in this scene.”

You climb up and straddle him, careful to not let him see what’s underneath your silky cover up. Leaning forward and bracing yourself with your hands beside his head, you brush your lips against his, pulling back when he tries to kiss you.

He lets out a deep groan as you grind down on him. “I think you should call me ‘goddess’ while we do this. Do you think you can do that?”

His breathing is already starting to get ragged and jumpy. “Yes, my goddess,” he says deeply. The baritone of his voice fills your body, a wave of arousal flooding you.

“As I was saying,” you sit back up and start to slowly pull the tie of your dressing gown, “I don’t think I’m the whips and leather type of domme. I might inflict a little pain today, baby. But overall -“ your dressing gown slips off your shoulders, pooling around you and Joel’s hips.

His eyes widen and he pulls on the restraints, so badly wanting to touch your body that’s wrapped in a delicate blue lace as you continue to talk to him, “Overall I just want to take care of you. Please you.”

“So fuckin’ pretty, Little Dove,” he hums. You pinch his nipple roughly and he hisses, “Goddess. Sorry. Fuck,” he says through gritted teeth, “Look s’beautiful, my goddess.”

You kiss his nipple better, then continue up his chest to that sensitive spot below his ear and whisper “Good boy” before sitting back up. Joel is surprised but how those two little words go straight to his cock. As you grind your pussy down you feel him grow fully hard. “You’re going to need a safe word, baby.”

Joel raises one eyebrow at you, “Everything we talked about was pretty tame. I think I’ll be ok.”

You hop off him and make your way to the foot of the bed, grabbing his jeans by the hem and pulling them down his legs. The denim makes a scratching noise against your soft bedding, until he’s left in just his tight black boxers.

“Roll over, baby.” You say sweetly, deciding that your domme personality is going to look and sound nice, but she certainly doesn’t appreciate Joel dismissing what she’s capable of. You watch his broad body roll as you walk to stand along the side of the bed. As he settles onto his stomach you continue, “Did I hear a little attitude? Saying you don’t need a safe word?”

You scrape your nails gently up his leg, starting at his ankle, swirling your fingers as you move up to the hem of his underwear. “No, goddess,” he says with a moan.

“Well, it certainly sounded like it, as punishment that’s one denied orgasm.”

He huffs out a breath. “Yes, my goddess.”

You roll the band of his underwear down so it sits just below his muscular ass cheeks. You bend over to place some lingering kisses along his round cheeks. He relaxes into the mattress, melting under your touch. He shuts his eyes, humming at the sensation. With his hands above his head like this, he has to rest his forehead on the mattress, he’s blind to what you’re doing which just heightens the feeling of your lips.

“I want you to thank me when I deny you that orgasm, Joel. Can you remember that?”

“Yes, my goddess.” He whispers. He’s so relaxed that you almost feel bad grabbing your new paddle from under the bed. It’s a pretty, soft pink leather paddle with Good Boy cut into it. You can’t wait to see his skin pink up around the letters.

You trail the soft leather of the small paddle up his one leg. “I got you a little present today, baby boy,” you say, voice a little more stern but still sweet. “Do you know what it is?”

You trace the outer globe of his ass, over his lower back and down to the other hip. “No,” he whispers, the paddle now moving down his other leg.

“Did you want to guess?” You say, watching his body twitches in anticipation when you pull it away from his skin.

“Felt like leather. Maybe a paddle?” He guesses.

You bring the paddle down on his right ass cheek, not hard, but enough to have him suck in a sharp breath. You strike again in the same spot, harder this time and he pulls on his restraints, gasping a little.

“Sssshhh. You’re ok baby,” you rub his right cheek, the word showing very faintly across his ass. You feel yourself getting wetter, if you do this a few more times you’re sure your panties will be ruined. For good measure, you strike him two more times in quick succession. The hits are a little softer but you know from being Joel’s sub that those often sting the most. He moans and gasps, he’s only held to the bed by his hands, he could easily roll away. But something inside of him is telling him to stay, learn what it’s really like to be on the other side, but also prove to himself that he can do this.

‘Good Boy’ is now almost tattooed across his right cheek. The word written on his tanned skin, the stinging pink skin around it acting like a neon sign. You use the other side of the paddle to rub his cheek. His body jolts with the soft contact - he’s on edge, not sure what you’re going to do next and not expecting gentleness. “Fuck, goddess. That hurt.”

“I know, Joel. That’s the point.” You kiss the tender skin of his cheek a few times before continuing. “I’m proud of you. And you should see your ass right now. Proudly displaying what a good boy you are for me.”

You roll his underwear band back up and he lets out an impatient groan. “What’s that sound for?”

Joel huffs out a breath, “Nothing, my goddess. I’m sorry.”

You click your tongue at him, “You are so impatient. This big strong man of mine, already whining for me to touch his cock.” You straddle his lower back, lean your body down into him and grip his hair tightly, pulling his neck back. He lets out a pained moan as you lick a line up his cheek before whispering into his ear, “I’m just getting started little one.”

You release his hair, his forehead landing softly on the mattress. “On your back,” you bark, swinging your leg around and standing at the side of the bed again. You slowly open the bedside drawer where Joel keeps all the toys and accessories that he loves to tease you with.

“Do you still think you don’t need a safe word?”

Joel winces as his sore cheek hits the mattress. “Goddess, if I survived watching you build that goddamn ikea bookcase. I can survive anything.”

You smirk and bite your cheek stopping the laugh from escaping. Every so often Joel Miller, a man of few words, makes a joke that you are never expecting. “Maybe your safe word should be Allan key.” You retort.

“Yes, goddess,” he says with a wink.

You shuffle some things around in the drawer before finding what you’re looking for - the beginner metal pinwheel. While it looks intimidating, it’s not as sharp as the one Joel now uses on you.

“We are going to play a little game, baby boy,” you start, placing the pinwheel in the band of your underwear and walking to the foot of the bed. “I am going to set a timer for one minute intervals. I’m going to play with your cock for one minute, then use the pinwheel on your body for the next minute. Is that ok with you?”

Joel’s breathing is coming in faster, goosebumps have spread across his body as he stares up at the ceiling. “Y-yes,” he sputters as you slide his boxers down his legs. “Please touch me, my goddess.”

“Oh Joel,” you say his name slowly and sweetly. “Joel…Joel…Joel. You’re not in charge, sweet boy. I think this means we are now at two denied orgasms.”

He groans quietly towards the ceiling. You grab your phone and open your interval timer, setting it upright on the nightstand so Joel can see it. “Since you seem to have no patience, I’m going to start with the pinwheel. If you’re about to come at any moment, you need to tell me. Now say ‘yes, goddess’ and thank me.”

Joel’s bound hands clench into fists, eyes glazing over as your finger hovers over the start button. “Yes, my goddess. Thank you.”

You tap the screen, your matte black manicured fingernail clicking against the screen protector and then bring the pinwheel to the smooth skin of the inside of his forearm, running it to his elbow slowly. Goosebumps spread along his skin, it amazes you to see the response from this side. A simple act, that’s tender and trusting. You could cause him pain with just the simple flick or flex of the wrist, and he knows that. As his eyes close and a steady hum vibrates in his chest, you smile at your beautiful partner. He’s so handsome. So soft. So yours.

The trail of your pinwheel continues down his bicep and onto his strong chest. You roll just below his collarbone to the other shoulder. As a quiet beep of the timer goes off. Another minute starts counting down automatically and you drop the pinwheel on his chest before grabbing his already rock hard cock in your hand. Stroking him up and down gently.

“Fuck, goddess. Fuck,” he’s already breathing heavily, eyes squeezed tightly. You squeeze tighter, stroking all the way up, milking a bead of pre cum from the tip. You can’t fight the urge, lapping up the cum with the tip of your warm tongue. “Oh fuck, oh fuck.”

You can tell he’s already on the edge, which is exactly where you want him. You suck the needy red tip of his cock into your mouth and flatten your tongue, circling along the sensitive ridge along the bottom. He lets out a growling moan which quickly turns into a whine of protest as the timer beeps. “No. Please.”

“Shhh,” you hush him gently as you roll over his chest with the wheel, adding a bit more pressure this time. Trailing across his strong pecs, the tanned skin left dimpled behind the spokes of the pinwheel. “You look so beautiful right now, Joel Miller. Lying here so still for me. Such a good boy.”

A little smile crosses Joel’s face at your praise. The love between the two of you seems to fill the air, making the room feel small and shut off from the rest of the world. You trail the wheel down his sternum and then diagonally towards one hip. “Spread your legs for me, baby.”

His cock is so hard, swaying a little with the movement of his legs. He gasps as the sharp spokes trace down the soft crease between his leg and groin, following the inside of his thighs. Praise leaves your lips as you worship your man.

So handsome….Being so good for me….Letting me play with you…I want to worship you the way you do me.

The moment the timer goes off you don’t waste any time, forcing his dick down your throat until you gag. You hold there, breathing through your nose.

“Oh fuck, that’s gonna -“ his voice is thick with need. “Fuck fuck fuck. Please, goddess. I’m. Oh please. I’m gonna….”

You pull off him quickly and he cries out in protest. “No. No. Hnnng. No,” you’ve never heard him whine like this and you swear the power you’re currently holding over him could make you come right now.

“What do you say, baby?”

A thin sheen of sweat starts to break out across his body. “T-thank you. My, fuck, my goddess.”

The timer goes off again, “One more time of each, then we’ll move on to something else.”

You go all out this time. Short rolls of the wheel, using lots of pressure, along the most sensitive spots. Bottom of his foot, the inside of his thigh, the thick pubic hair at the base of his cock, his inner bicep. Each roll sends sharp jolts through his body, and he moans, groans or gasps with each one. His cock twitches as the pain settles into warm, sparkling pleasure.

By the time the minute is almost over Joel’s face is furrowed with a mix of pleasure, pain and anticipation. His curls have grown out a little and one sticks to his forehead.

The timer beeps and you repeat your previous actions. Forcing his thick, hard cock down your throat, saliva pooling in your cheeks and landing on this pelvis as you fight from gagging.

“Goddess. Oh fuck. Please let me!”

You start to bob up and down his slick cock, sliding him in and out of your mouth from base to tip, a hand coming to fondle and massage his heavy balls. He lets out a satisfied moan as you slow your mouth, swirling and twirling your tongue along his shaft and head.

“You taste so good, baby boy,” you moan before slowly sliding him all the way to the back of your throat. You moan as he hits the back, and he tenses up and squirms.

“No. I’m gonna cum. Please.”

You release him with a pop and watch his dick turn an angry shade of red. It matches the blush that’s creeping his neck from his chest.

“Fuck you,” he growls and pulls at the restraints.

You raise an eyebrow, “You’re pathetic. Swearing and crying after only a few minutes. Roll over.”

“No. No. I’m sorry.”

You grab a fist full of hair and get within a hair from his face. “I said to roll over. Speaking to me like that warrants a punishment.”

He whimpers at the pain in his scalp, mouth open and reaching for yours. Hoping he can break you down with his soft velvety lips. You release his hair and give him a stern look, a look he’s never seen you give and hopes he’s never on the receiving end of again and rolls over.

“On your knees and spread your legs,” you bark as you grab your paddle again. He looks so good with his round little ass in the air, legs spread so you can see his stiff cock and heavy balls. You can’t help yourself, reaching between his legs to massage his balls. His back arches, pushing his ass towards you, and you bite down on one of his cheeks.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry,” he moans and mumbles into the pillows.

“Good boy,” you coo, trailing your fingernails along his balls in light, languid movements. Goosebumps break out across his body when you begin running the smooth part of the paddle along the back of his strong thighs and over his tooth indented ass cheek.

You climb in between his legs, keeping yourself far enough away that he can feel your heat but all that’s touching him is the soft leather of your baby pink paddle.

“You don’t like this very much do you, Joel?”

He shakes his head and moans a ‘mm-mmm’ into the pillows.

“Tell me what you want,” you say, laying a small smack across his ass.

“I want to touch you, goddess.” He says through a shaky voice.

You strike his ass harder this time. The thwack filled the room along with his chorus of whines.

“You can do better than that. You and your filthy mouth. Tell me,” You hit him again a bit more softly and then rub the word ‘good boy’ that’s already forming with your hand. “What do you want?”

“I w-want,” he flinches as you remove your hand and then melts as you wrap your hand around his cock and stroke slowly up and down, “thank you…I want to lay you down. Remove that sexy lingerie slowly, oh fuck, that feels good, I want to kiss your body. Taste your skin. Play with your nipples.”

You pick up the pace of your hand and his legs start to shake underneath him. “Keep talking, baby.”

“Please don’t stop. Fuck. Yes. I-I wanna taste your beautiful pink pussy. Feel the soft folds with my tongue.”

The paddle meets his cheek again as you stroke him and he lets out a high pitched whine that neither of you knew he was capable of before he says. “Shit. Again. Please. Do that again.”

You’re in charge here, but you do as he asks. Two quick, hard snaps of the paddle before you drop your body to lick along the bottom of his cock.

“I’m gonna come,” he says in a quick and scared tone. You pull away as his cock gets redder, right on the edge. It almost looks painful. But all the times he’s made you cry from his edging, it only feels fair. “Oh god. Please.”

You move up the bed, reaching cuffs that are binding his wrists to the bed frame. Undoing the restraints you say, “I’m trusting you to stay submissive with these off, ok?”

“I’ll do anything,” he says in a weak voice.

“Lay on your back,” you whisper after undoing him. When you see his face, he looks completely wrecked and frustrated. Tears line his eyes, his breathing is ragged and quick. You smirk at him, “What else do you want to do?”

“I want to eat you until you gush all over my face,” you drop your bra to the ground and you can see him almost pushing himself into the mattress to stop from grabbing you. “And, fill you with my fingers. See you break out in sweat as you come over and over again.”

You slide your panties down your legs, you’re so wet that Joel can see them soaked through in the middle. “Fuck, goddess. You’re so wet.”

“Do you want to taste it?” You ask, dragging a finger through your slit and holding it up to him.

He fists the sheet, “Yes. Please.”

You slip your finger between your lips to suck off your arousal. Your eyes flutter closed and you moan at your flavour. Joel groans as you straddle his chest backwards, slipping your legs under his arms, sliding back so he has a view of your needy, glistening pussy.

You sit up slightly and look over your shoulder at his face. He licks his lips, swallowing hard, practically salivating over the sight of you. “What will you give me if I reward you with my pussy?”

“Anything, baby. Please. I need to taste you. Feel you. Please.” You’ve never heard him beg like this before, the desperation and want in his voice causes the walls of your pussy to clench around nothing. It’s an oddly powerful feeling of being wanted so badly that he’s almost brought to tears.

“Prove to me that you can be a good boy,” you say, voice steady and commanding. “Keep your hands to yourself, and maybe I’ll reward you.”

His brow furrows in, frustration with a hint of admiration crossing his face before you turn back, taking his hard cock in your hand and stroking gently from the base to the tip. Joel’s hands fist the sheets to stop himself from touching you, your pussy rests on his hard chest, ass in the air as you tease him.

“Goddess,” he whimpers. “Fuck. Please.”

“Be good,” you tut, your tongue teasing the swollen red head lightly.

“Please!” He huffs, slamming his eyes shut and trying to slow his breathing.

This is torture. He somehow hates and loves this. He hates that he’s being denied the orgasm that’s teetering on the edge. Hates that he’s broken out in a sheen of sweat. Hates that it feels so good that it hurts. But fuck does he love seeing how confident and proud you look. And he loves that he can see how wet the control is making you.

He’s lost in his thoughts for a moment, fighting the urge to grab you, flip you under him and spank you for teasing him; which he very easily could do. Instead, he takes a few breaths as you suck on the lip of his dick like a lolly pop. He groans, chest vibrating against your pussy and you instinctively start grinding his chest.

Joel’s eyes pop open to watch you grind his sternum. You swirl your tongue around the head of cock a few times and everything becomes too much for him. You surround him with yourself and your sex. All he can see is your tight asshole and shiny wet pussy. All he can feel is your soft skin along his abdomen and your warm wet tongue teasing him. All he can hear is your tiny little moans and gasps of pleasure and the occasional squelching of your mouth along his dick.

“Baby, fuuuuck. I’m -“ Before he can come you remove your hand and lips from his cock. It twitches as a little bit of come leaks from the top. “Goddess. Please. Please!”

You ignore his cries, grinding harder into his chest. “Mmmm, Joel. You feel so good.”

“Please. I can’t, I need it. Please,” he continues his weak begging.

You glance over your shoulder, seeing him almost on the edge of tears. He’s so frustrated, cheeks turning pink, more sweat forming along his forehead.

“Spit,” you say darkly, raising one eyebrow.

“W-what?” He sputters, eyes locking with yours.

“Spit on my pussy, get it nice and wet so I can come on your chest.” Joel’s eyes dart to your pussy and then back to you before he smiles at you.

“You have no idea how fucking hot you are right now,” he squeezes his cheeks together, gathering saliva. “You sure about this, Little Dove?”

The hand resting on the inside of his tight swats him hard and he lets out a deep painful groan. “Don’t fucking call me that. Spit, Miller.”

You watch as his head lifts from the bed, inching as close as he can to your pussy. You raise slightly as he spits, the warm saliva hitting your folds and his chest. You waste no time, spreading yourself open with your fingers and sitting back down on Joel’s chest. You don’t touch his cock as you ride him.

“Talk to me,” you moan, alternating your hips from a forward and backward rocking motion into little circles.

“You look so beautiful, goddess,” he says deeply, chest rumbling with every word. “So sexy as you use me. Take what you want. What you need. So fuckin proud of you, baby girl.”

A fresh slick of arousal coats his chest, you’re so close. You drop your head to rest on the crevice of his thigh. “Don’t stop,” you moan, slowing your hips but pushing down harder.

“You like when I talk? Can you feel it vibrating on your perfect little clit. You’re so wet, so beautiful,” you feel his spit again and you whine out. Pain pulses through Joel’s fingers with how tightly he’s gripping the bed sheets. Fighting against every urge and instinct to grab you and touch you. “Fuck, goddess. I want you. You are so perfect. So beautiful. So good.”

“I’m gonna come,” you moan, burying your face against his pelvis.

“Show me, goddess. Show me what I do to you,” he says roughly. He could come just from watching you as the movement of your hips starts to falter. He swears he stops breathing as his eyes focus on your cunt fluttering and clenching in front of him. The soft, baby pink folds quiver as your slick leaks from the tight hole he loves so much. You cry out, a chain of swears, moans and his name leaving your lips. His cock is aching for attention, saliva pooling in his mouth at the thought of tasting you, licking up your honey and feasting on his favourite meal. He’s made you cum countless times, felt your pussy strangle his fingers and milk his cock, but he’s never watched it from this angle, it’s intoxicating, euphoric, a whole new feeling of nirvana that he didn't know existed. “Fuuuuck, so gorgeous, baby.”

You slump down onto Joel. Weak and satisfied, as you catch your breath and try to stop your legs from trembling.

After a few minutes of silence, Joel’s soft whispering voice fills the air, “Goddess? Please let me touch you now so I can care for you.”

You open your eyes, his cock is still hard and an angry shade of red in front of you. “You were so good for me, baby boy,” you say softly, placing light and lingering kisses along the top of his thigh and hip bone.

“Let me keep being good. Let me care for you. Make love to you. Worship your body from head to toe. Please, goddess.”

“Don’t you dare move,” you say roughly. All the things he’s saying sound wonderful, and you’ll let him do all those things eventually, but you never get to hear him beg like this and you’re not going to give in so quickly. He said to do your worst after all.

You adjust yourself to be sitting up slightly and cup his heavy balls in one hand. He hisses at the contact, you know exactly how it feels to not be able to see what the next move is and you’re sure Joel’s eyes are slammed shut, trying to predict, but not being able to anticipate your next move.

You let a trail of warm saliva fall from your mouth, letting it land on the tip of cock. “Please,” he whines behind you.

“Shhh, you’re ok,” you coo, lowering your face to his dick, your tongue trailing a light circle around the sensitive ridge of the head. You revel in the pathetic little gasps he makes as you swirl around him again and again.

“Baby boy,” you wrap your free hand around the base of his cock, “I’m going to suck your perfect dick now, but you need to tell me when you’re about to come. I’m not done playing with you yet.”

“Fuck - Jesus, goddess. I don’t know if I can do this,” he huffs.

You release his balls and slap the inside of his thigh again. He hisses as the red hot pain settles on the meat of his muscular thigh. “You will. Or I’ll get the paddle again.”

The power has definitely gone to your head. You love it when Joel is commanding and dominating, but it’s intoxicating having him all supple and yours to do whatever you want with.

“Sorry, goddess. Sorry,” his thick cock leaps as you grab his balls again. Without warning you take him all the way in your mouth, the tip pressing against the back of your throat. You relax your jaw and throat, breathing through your nose and just hold there, warming him with just your mouth.

He turns into an absolutely writhing, whining mess within seconds. “I need to touch you. Please. Fuckfuckfuck that’s so good. Please. Let me touch you.”

You choke out an ‘uh uh’, and the vibrations of your throat have him tense up beneath you. “Oh god. Goddess. Fuuuuck. Please move. Please suck me.”

You slurp up his dick and release the tip with a lewd, wet pop. “Joel Miller,” you say mockingly, “I never would have taken you for such a whiner when the tables are turned.”

“Just let me touch you and then I’ll be quiet. Please.”

You peek over your shoulder at him, one eyebrow raised teasingly, “I could just gag you.”

Joel’s eyes widen and he audibly swallows. “No, no, please. I’m sorry. I’ll try to stop.”

You spin back to face his cock and say, “That’s my good boy,” before sliding him to the back of your throat again.

A mixture of your drool and his pre come starts to gather on the coarse hairs along the base of him, you use the wetness to lubricate his balls as you fondle and cradle them. His breathing is quick and uneven, you can tell he’s fighting his body’s natural urge to come and his new found need to whine.

You pull off of him with a gag and a cough, you play it up a little since you know how much he likes to hear you gag when he’s in charge. He stays true to his word and he’s quiet, just a small moan leaving his throat before you start to suckle on the tip of his swollen cock. You lap up the salty pre cum, swallowing him down, he really is your favourite taste.

“Mmm, taste so good baby boy,” you hum between licks. As Joel relaxes underneath you you have a very devious idea. You keep up the languid strokes of your tongue over his cock, waiting for him to tell you he’s going to come so you can stop. You suck him further into your mouth and almost immediately as your lips close around him he jerks.

“Fuck. I’m gonna come. I’m sorry,” you pull back quickly and he grunts.

“Not yet baby,” you whisper as you climb off him. Spinning to face him and sitting on your heels you say, “Remember that tiny vibrating plug we used to use when we first started experimenting with anal? Do you think you could take that?”

Joel’s eyes squint as if to test if you’re joking or not. When your facial expression doesn’t falter he says, “Oh, you’re serious?”

“You can say no, Joel.” You mumble.

“No. Well yes. I mean, I’m not saying no,” he stays lying about how you’ve told him, eyes searching yours. “Let me see it again.”

You jump excitedly off the bed and pull the small pink plug out from the bedside table, along with the cleaning wipes and the lube. You turn back to see your perfect man led on his back, his cock still stiff as nails and glistening with your saliva. You fight that soft, submissive side of yourself that feels bad for leaving him like that.

“Lemme see it, gorgeous girl,” he says, looking over at you with hooded eyes like he’s drunk off your mouth. You hold it up for him, it’s not much bigger than his thumb. “Ok, goddess. For you, I’ll do it. Just….use lots of lube.”

You smile at him and laugh softly, “Of course, baby boy. I only want to make you feel good. So here’s the plan. Come stand here and bend over the bed. I’ll slowly work this in, once it’s in I’m going to turn it on low. Then you’ll sit, leaning against the headboard and I’ll ride that big gorgeous cock until we both cum. Deal?”

Joel has never heard you be so dominant and direct with what you want. It’s usually him bossing you around, he’s overcome with pride listening to his sweet Little Dove demand something just for her once. “I love you so much, baby.” He coos as he slips off the bed and bends over in front of you.

You wipe the toy clean then flick the cap of the lube open, the clicking of the plastic cap that changed your life is about to change Joel’s. The cool slippery liquid drizzles down his ass, he jolts at the coolness, goosebumps breaking out over his back and firm cheeks. “Sorry, baby,” you whisper, gathering the lube on your fingers and swirling it around his asshole. You feel it quiver at your touch and Joel takes a steadying breath.

“Nice and slow,” you soothe, teasing him with more pressure. Joel's broad body relaxes into the mattress. “Good boy. Just relax. Play with yourself for me. I’m going to switch to the plug now, just to get it nice and slippery.”

Joel snakes his hand between his body and the mattress, as he wraps his fist around his cock you circle the toy along his slippery, puckered hole. You watch it quiver and relax under your touch so you apply a bit more pressure the tip of it disappears inside of him. A euphoric moan tumbles past Joel’s lips.

“Oh god goddess, more, please.” He mumbles.

“Ok, baby,” you whisper, your free hand lightly tracing up and down his spine. You push the plug in more, Joel’s body jolts and he cries out. “Pleasure or pain, Joel?”

His breathing shakes as he moans, “Pleasure. Oh fuck. It’s so good, baby. Fuuuuck.”

One person shouldn’t hold this much power over a man who could probably kill someone with his bare hands if provoked. You never in a thousand years thought would go for this, and never in a million years thought he would love it this much.

“More, more,” he hiccups into the sheets.

You push the toy deeper, “Good boy. Almost all the way in.” Your hand caresses over the smooth globe of his ass. “Doin’ so well, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

With a final little push of your thumb, the toy slips all the way in. “Good job,” you praise, kissing at his lower back. His body goes completely slack below you. “How are you feeling?”

Joel moans into the mattress. “Good. It’s so much pressure. But good pressure. Fuck, I should have let you be in charge sooner.”

You stand, then drag your nails up the back of his thighs and up and over his ass as you say. “That’s my sweet baby boy, now get your perfect little ass back on the bed so I can fuck you.”

He gingerly crawls up onto the bed, you watch him carefully, a thin layer of sweat coats his forehead and chest. You prop some pillows against the headboard. He locks eyes with you as he sits, whimpering at the pressure of his body weight on the plug.

You grab the small remote in your hand and then straddle Joel’s wide thighs, your chest pressed against his. His cock is so hard between your bodies, the vein that travels underneath it is pulsing. You wrap your dainty hand around the base.

“Spit, Joel,” you command.

He doesn’t hesitate, spitting down the tip of his cock, it beads and rolls down the sides, and you work your hand up and down him slowly, spreading the wetness. “Again, baby.”

He obeys, his breathing ragged and uneven as you spread the saliva again. “Now that your perfect cock is all sloppy I’m going to bury you inside of me. Then I’m going to push this little button,” you hold the remote out in front of him, “And you’re not gonna cum until I say. Right?”

“Yes, oh god, y-yes goddess,” his head falls back to rest on the headboard, eyes screwed shut in pleasure.

You lift, using your hand to guide him to your entrance. You slowly sink onto his length, gasping at the familiar sting of the stretch as he fills you. Joel lets out a content and whispered, “fuuuuuuck.”

“Feels s’good when you’re inside me,” you mumble into his neck. “I’m gonna turn it on now, Joel. Are you ready?”

“Yes. I’m ready,” he wraps his arms around you tightly, you’re not sure if it’s fueled by pleasure or the anticipation of what’s to come, but when you push the tiny button he squeezes tighter, his entire body quivering underneath you. “Oh god. Baby, I c-can’t, fuck.”

You pull back to look at his face. “Do you need me to stop?” Your voice is soft and full of concern.

“No, god no. I can’t last. I, fuck, please start moving. Please.” He buries his face in your neck as he whimpers, fully confirming your earlier thoughts. No one should have this much power in their hands. “Please, goddess.”

You start rocking your hips back and forth, he’s so fucking sexy like this and even though you’ve already cum once, you’re painfully turned on seeing your man turn into a puddle at your touches. “That’s it, big boy. Just hold on a little bit longer for me. Fuck, I’m so close.”

His dull fingernails dig into your sides as he tries to hold off. Every movement you make pulls a groan from him. “Call me a good girl, please Joel. I’m gonna cum.”

His voice is thick and syrupy as he says, “Please, my goddess. Cum for me. Be my good girl. Let me feel you milk me.”

“Hnnnng - yes!” You cry out as heat spreads through every nerve ending of your body. “Cum with me.”

Joel’s hands guide your hips, helping you fuck into him harder. His cock grows larger inside you. “Kiss me,” he whines.

You press your lips to him as the heat snaps and your orgasms wash over you. You are a mess of tongue and teeth as his dick twitches inside of you, painting your walls with warm ropes of cum. You can feel it filling you, feel the walls of your pussy clenching hard around him. Everything in the room except Joel fades away. You and Joel, always.

Your orgasm crests and you peel away from Joel’s lips to watch him. He’s completely blissed out. Eyes hooded and glazed over, sweaty glistening across his whole body. As you come down you slow your hips, his hands take over, rocking you back and forth.

“Good boy,” you hum. “Just take what you need.” You can feel his cum leaking out from you, landing in the coarse hairs at the base of his cock.

“I’m - I think I’m gonna,” his hands grip you so tightly that you’re sure you’ll have the same bruises you always seem to get when you and Joel fuck.

You card your hands through his hair, pushing back his sweaty curls. “I’m here, baby. Just relax. Let it happen. You’re ok.”

His head falls back, eyes fluttering closed as he cums again with a deep, satisfied groan.

“Turn it off. Allan key. Shit, baby.”

You quickly shut the vibrating plug off and wrap your arms around Joel’s neck, pulling him in closely. You shush him softly as he tries to catch his breath, his softening cock still buried inside of you.

“Are you okay, baby?” You ask after a few silent moments.

His breathing begins to steady. “Kiss me.”

You pull back and press your lips to his. He deepens the kiss, slow languid strokes of his tongue against yours. You feel content to just sit here straddling Joel, lazily making out forever. You let him take the lead, giving him whatever he needs after an intense night. It feels like you’ve been kissing for hours when Joel pulls back.

“Thank you,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours.

“Anything for you, my love,” you smile at him. “Do you need help getting that out?”

His chocolate brown eyes wash over you. “No, maybe. Fuck, I don’t know. What do I do?”

You can’t help but giggle at his slight panic. “Just kinda push into it and pull a little bit. That’s all I do. But I’ll have to get off of you first.”

His nose drags against yours, “Not yet.”

Joel kisses your jaw and then your shoulder before curling into your neck again. You trail your fingers along his upper back, lazy uneven patterns and swirls. He hums contentedly into your skin. “I don’t think I can go back to having sex without this thing,” he admits sheepishly.

“That good?”

“Yes, Little Dove,” murmurs, “You are that good.”

You smile to yourself before he pulls back and you two work in tandem to slide off his soft cock, cum drips from your pussy, landing on him and the bed as you lay on the bed beside him. He stands on shaky legs and goes to the bathroom. You hear a pained grunt and then water running. He comes back with the cleaned toy in one hand, tucking it back in the bedside drawer, and a towel in the other hand that he uses to clean you off.

“I should be the one taking care of you, Joel.”

He laughs quietly, “I can’t help it, Little Dove. You looked so gorgeous tonight. I’m so proud of you for how talkative and dominant you were.”

You flip the sheets open and you both crawl in, his large body wrapping around yours, both of you relaxing into one another at the same time. Breathing syncing into a comfortable pace. These are the moments that you live for. As fun as exploring your kinky side is together, there’s an anchor between you and him that keeps you tied together.

“I love you,” he mumbles into your hairline, kissing you softly.

You press your face deeper into his chest, surrounding yourself with his scent. “I love you, too.”

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