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sunni-stuff · 4 months ago

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You, the butchers daughter, end up stalking your father's new hire.

The first time you see him, he’s hauling a side of beef off the truck like it weighs nothing, muscles taut beneath his apron. His broad shoulders stretch the fabric, veins running thick down his forearms as he grips the meat hook. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up, revealing strong arms marred with faded scars—some thin and clean, others jagged, stories you’ll never hear. His hands, wrapped in black gloves, are steady as he works, but you wonder what they’d feel like bare.

Then there’s the mask. Black, snug, covering everything from the bridge of his nose down, leaving only his sharp, calculating eyes visible. Dark and unreadable, they barely glance your way. You’ve tried to catch him slipping, maybe when he wipes sweat from his forehead or adjusts the apron strings that crisscross his powerful back, but he’s careful—never lets you see too much.

The tattoos peek out beneath his sleeves and creep along his collarbones where his shirt dips. Flames coil around his wrists, swallowing skulls with hollow eyes. A soldier, masked like him, grips a rifle among the chaos. A bomb mid-fall, grinning shark teeth, dog tags suspended in ink—each piece a fragment of something unspoken. You’ve glimpsed ink curling over the tendons of his neck, bold lines, and intricate designs that hint at a past you aren’t meant to know. It’s all war, death, and destruction, an unspoken story carved into his flesh. When he moves, the shadows shift over the ink, making it seem alive. You want to ask, to pry, but he’s as unreadable as the art on his skin

He doesn’t talk much, just nods when your father gives orders. The others joke around, laugh, make noise—but he’s silent, methodical, unsettling in the way he moves like he’s done this before. Like butchering meat is nothing new to him.

But what frustrates you the most? He never looks at you for more than a second. Never lingers, never smirks, never acknowledges the way you watch him. As if you’re invisible. And that, more than anything, makes you want to figure him out.

At first, it was just curiosity. No man had ever outright ignored you before—not when you batted your lashes, not when you "accidentally" brushed too close, not when you lingered just a little too long in his space.

But him? He barely acknowledged you. A nod if you were lucky. A grunt if you spoke directly to him. Most of the time, he just kept working, muscles flexing under his apron, strong hands wielding a cleaver with practiced ease.

The others—your father’s old hands, the regulars who came in for their weekly cuts—would’ve tripped over their feet to get your attention. They always had. You were used to the lingering stares, the awkward compliments, the way men fumbled through conversations just to keep you talking. So why didn't he?

It was maddening.

So, you did what any sane young woman would do.

You prodded. You poked. You tested.

You stood too close, pretending to inspect the marbled meat he was slicing, only for him to shift away without a word. You asked him pointless questions, just to hear his voice—low, rough, with an accent you couldn’t quite place—only for him to answer in as few words as possible before returning to work.

It became a game. You knocked things over in his path just to see if he’d catch them (he always did). You “forgot” something near his station just to have a reason to come back. You even tried teasing, playfully calling him mystery man under your breath.

Nothing.

Not a flinch, not a smirk, not even a flicker of amusement.

That should have been the end of it.

But then you started watching. Not just at work—no, you started watching him.

The way he left every night at the same time. The way he took the same route, never straying, never rushing. The way his head tilted slightly whenever he passed certain corners, as if he was listening.

It fascinated you. And when fascination turns to obsession, well…

That’s when you started following him.

You followed him—never too far, never too close—always careful, watching him move through the streets with an air of confidence that seemed to thrive in the quiet of the night. For weeks, this had become a routine, one that started innocently enough. Just a few blocks at first, just enough to ensure that he was who you thought he was. But over time, the habit deepened. Each night, you followed him further, until it became something you couldn’t help but do.

Yet, despite your best efforts, he never made any stops, never took any detours. He just kept walking, heading toward some destination that only he knew. And every time you reached the point where you would turn around, you still didn’t have any answers—no clue what he was up to or where he was going. Just that he moved through the night like someone who belonged there. Unfazed, untouchable.

Then one night, the weather turned.

The rain hit hard, cold droplets splattering against your skin, soaking through your jacket in seconds. You’d stopped for a split second—just long enough to get the damn zipper up, to pull the hood over your head—but in that moment, he'd vanished.

Your heart thudded in your chest as you cursed under your breath, glancing quickly down the wet street, searching for the familiar outline of his tall frame. But there was nothing. No sign of him.

“What the hell?” you muttered to yourself, your voice drowned out by the downpour. You couldn’t let him slip away. Not now, not after all this time.

You started to jog, your boots splashing in the puddles as your eyes darted left and right, scanning the alleyways and storefronts. Your breath came faster as you pushed yourself harder, frustration building. You weren’t going to lose him now.

Then, suddenly, your body was jerked backward, your breath caught in your throat as a strong hand pressed over your mouth. The air around you was thick with the scent of rain-soaked pavement and something darker, something more familiar.

Before you could even react, you were shoved hard against the cold brick of an alleyway wall, your back colliding with the rough surface, your head snapping back slightly from the impact. Your pulse spiked in your ears as panic started to claw at your chest, but the firm grip on your mouth held you silent, still.

For a second, everything went still. The rain beat against your jacket, heavy and relentless, but there was no sound, no movement—just the suffocating pressure of his hand over your mouth and the close proximity of his body.

You felt the heat radiating off him, the sheer strength of his presence as if the space between you was no longer your own. The tension in his arm, holding you against the wall, was undeniable. He was in control.

Your heart raced, but it wasn’t from fear. It was from the frustration, the adrenaline coursing through your veins, the urge to finally break the silence between you. You had followed him, hunted him, and now here he was��this close. The tension was suffocating, and you couldn’t decide if you were going to scream or say something sharp.

But before you could gather your thoughts, his voice broke through the storm. Low, smooth, with an edge of something dark. “Thought you’d lost me, didn’t you?” His words came muffled through the mask, but the tone was unmistakable.

He didn’t seem in a rush, like he knew you were trapped in the moment. You didn’t even know how long he’d been standing there, or how he’d managed to close the distance between you so quickly. The rain drummed relentlessly on the alley’s pavement, but his eyes, those sharp, dark eyes, never wavered from you.

“Can’t say I’m impressed by your little game,” he murmured, fingers brushing against your cheek in a movement so deliberate it made your breath catch. “You follow me for weeks, but never thought of what might happen when you get too close.”

“Were you hoping to catch me doing something interesting?" he asked, his breath a warm tickle on your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. There was a calmness in his voice, like he was in complete command, and the way his body molded against yours told you he was used to people being in positions like this.

“I…” You swallowed, struggling to free your voice. “I wanted to see if you’d… notice me.” You hadn’t thought this far ahead. Why had you been following him? What had you hoped to find? You were just a silly girl who wanted the attention of a man who wanted nothing to do with you.

Simon’s laugh was low, almost quiet, but it carried a weight to it that you didn’t expect. It was rich with amusement, deep and rough, and it rumbled against the tension hanging between you both. The sudden sound caught you off guard, your breath catching in your throat as you tried to make sense of it.

For a moment, you were frozen, not sure whether to be annoyed or confused. Had you just made a fool of yourself in front of him? Why was he laughing?

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your nerves, but it didn’t work. His laughter still echoed in your head, and your voice came out shaky. "W-what’s so funny?"

He didn’t immediately answer. Instead, you could feel him shift slightly, his hand easing off your wrist but still close enough to make you aware of the power he held. Simon took a breath, the rain still pouring around you both, but his presence was like a shield, solid and immovable.

"You," he finally said, his voice quieter now, but the amusement was still there, like a shadow in his tone. "You think I didn’t notice you? You’ve been practically waving a flag." His fingers brushed lightly over your wrist, tracing the spot where he’d gripped you, his touch soft now, almost teasing.

"I wasn’t… I wasn’t obvious," you managed to protest, though it came out weaker than you’d like. You could feel your cheeks heating, your frustration mixing with something else you weren’t ready to admit.

"All this time, and you still think I didn’t know?" He shook his head, though you couldn't see his face behind that damn mask. “Sweetheart, you’ve been following me around like a lost puppy, and I was just waiting to see when you'd finally stop pretending.”

For a moment, you stood there, silence pressing in between you both, broken only by the sound of the rain pelting the alley around you. Simon’s words lingered, his laugh still echoing in your mind. You weren’t sure if you were frustrated or flustered or both, but you knew one thing for sure—he had misunderstood what you asked.

Finally, you spoke, your voice clear despite the uncertainty brewing inside you. “That’s not what I meant,” you muttered, taking a step back, shaking your head. You weren’t sure why, but you needed to ask, needed to get to the bottom of it. “Do you have a girlfriend?” you asked bluntly, your eyes never leaving his face.

Simon’s expression didn’t change much, his gaze still sharp but unbothered. “No,” he replied simply.

That answer made something inside you tighten, though you couldn’t quite pinpoint why. But you weren’t done. You shifted your weight, suddenly daring to ask the next question, the one you knew would make him uncomfortable. “Do you find me attractive?”

His eyes flickered for a split second, the usual guarded look breaking, but he nodded, his voice low. “Yes.”

The answer hung in the air like a challenge. Your heart was racing, your mind spinning, trying to connect the dots between what he said and what he did. “So why,” you demanded, “don’t you ever look at me? In the shop, I mean. Why don’t you notice me like the other guys do? They stare, flirt, and… well, pay attention.”

For the first time since you’d started this strange back-and-forth, Simon looked genuinely confused. He stepped back slightly, brows furrowing as he regarded you. “I don’t understand,” he said slowly. “I do pay attention.”

You blinked, taken aback by his response. “What do you mean?”

Simon’s gaze softened just a fraction as he tilted his head. “During lunch... I cut your deli the way you like it—slices thin enough you can stack ‘em. And when I’m working, I stay in your section. Always have.” He paused, his expression almost apologetic. “Flirting with my boss’s daughter at work isn’t exactly the best move. But…”

You stared at him, your mind trying to make sense of his words.

He stepped closer, his presence filling the space between you both, his voice lowering to a near whisper. “But work’s over now, lass. And here we are.”

You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, the real meaning of his words sinking in, and suddenly, the whole night felt like it had shifted, like the game you were playing had just changed.

You opened your mouth, about to say something—anything—to break the silence, to clarify what had just happened, but before you could speak, Simon moved with startling speed.

One moment, you were standing there, staring up at him, and the next, he had lifted you effortlessly into his arms. Your breath caught in your throat as his strong hands gripped you, pulling you flush against his chest, his heat seeping into your bones despite the chill of the rain.

“Your house or mine?”

#simon ghost riley #sunni speaks #simon ghost riley x reader #cod x reader #simon riley #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader

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thalwri · 2 months ago

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COLLARS ‘N LEASH

STARRING: caleb x reader

synopsis: you're injured and supposed to be resting but you just can't stop going out. so caleb finds a way to convince you to stay inside to let your injuries heal (it gets freaky).

warnings: porn with plot, use of collars, fingering, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, pussy slapping, obscene use of hands, cum eating, sloppy wet marathon sex, multiple creampies, manhandling, squirting, spitting, pussydrunk!caleb, cockdrunk!reader, you two are just nasty freaks.

wc: 3,4k

a/n: i'm literally about to cumbust. caleb's got me feral these days. and he will never be beating the panty sniffer allegations!!

MINORS DON'T INTERACT!

You believed it was a joke. Or some one of the many weirdly ominous things Caleb had a habit of saying to get a kick out of you. It must have been.

“What?” You blink, staring at his hands.

“Remember what I told you?” He asked, free hand slowly reaching up your thigh. “About that stray cat.”

You were fresh out the shower, skin still steaming from the heat of the water pelting your back. You have nothing on but a gown, and not one of the fluffy ones either. His eyes had been on you since you left the shower and he hasn’t bothered hiding his blushing.

“The one you put a collar on?” Your brows raise at the memory. He really was worried about that poor kitty. It was all injured and kept trying to run, so Caleb eventually put a collar with a bell on the cat so he’d know if it tried to go and be adventurous again.

Then it clicked. You had a minor injury on your leg from your last mission. A solo mission that was supposed to be an investigation had ended with you fighting at least six Wanderers throughout the night. Caleb made sure your superiors put you on break for at least two weeks (with Zayne’s medical support) to give you time to rest.

But being the stubborn person you are, you always found a way to leave your apartment to Caleb’s agitation. It got so bad that even he had to take leave from the Fleet to keep an eye on you— as if his usual methods didn’t already work.

It all makes sense. The fact that he’s in Linkon, the fact that you’ve been put on sick leave for two weeks, and the fact that he’s been watching you like a hawk especially since you try to go out.

The damn collars in his hands are to make you the cat in this situation.

“Are you serious?” You blink, trying to ignore the growing heat in your core. You couldn’t lie, it was hot.

One of the collars, you presume is yours, has a pretty red bow tied around its bell. The other has a leather leash attached to it. Almost like a leash for a dog.

“I don’t want you running off when you’re still recoverin’.” Caleb’s hand disappear into your silk robe, inching higher and higher up your thighs, just so damn close to your pussy. “And I don’t want you to get worried. So I shouldn’t leave you.”

His lips inch closer to your neck, hot breath ghost over your damn skin. This fucker—

“How about I test a little theory of mine?” The metallic jingles of the collars ring in your ears. His sunset eyes raise to your gaze with that stupidly handsome puppy look he gives you when he gets needy and desperate. “Can I put this collar on you?”

“You’re such a freak.” You hiss, watching his eyes flutter in plain as the fucking sky obviousness. You learned he had a thing for you being a little bit mean. Just a little. And he does everything he can to get on your nerves.

“So are you.” His hand finally reaches your soaking pussy and circles your entrance with a single finger. You deeply inhale feeling your walls clench on air. “Look at you, so wet. I think you want me to collar you up. So I always know where you are.”

Bold of him to talk. You can literally see the growing tent in his pants. He likes it just as much as you do.

His finger slowly dips into your pussy, pumping in and out with deliberate precision. He knows exactly what to do to set you off, turn you on, make you beg. And he is making things extra slow to get to you.

“Caleb.” You attempt to warn but he curls his finger right into that spongy pleasure spot that he knows drives you insane.

“Why would you wanna go out and about when you’re injured, pips?” He asks with concern in his eyes as if he isn’t torturing you with his finger. It’d be better if he put in another or two. Wet squelches travel right up to your ears to add to the injury. What a tease.

Your eyes gloss over with intense need. What a fucking—

“It’s almost like you want me to keep you close,” Another finger finally slips in, stretching you out deliciously. A heavenly moan escapes your lips, not that you were trying to hide it to begin with. “Keep a close eye on you and remind you that you’re better off restin’ here at home.”

His words quickly become white noise just from how his fingers turn you into horny mush. If there’s one thing your boyfriend has mastered, it’s driving you insane with his fingers alone. Now imagine what his cock does.

“Fuck.” You sigh, feeling your back arch to feel his fingers deeper inside you. And like the good boyfriend he is, he gives you exactly what you need— pushing his fingers deeper and deeper until his knuckles nudge your entrance. “And– oh, Caleb- what- what about you?”

“Hm?” His tongue darts out his mouth, deeply concentrated on how your pussy clenches around his fingers as fast as your pulse. The tent on his sweatpants start to darken from his leaking precum.

“There’s two… collars.” You say slowly or else his ministrations would bring you to a stutter. “If the bell one’s for me, what about the one with the leash?”

Caleb’s lips form an ‘o’ shape, eyes following your gaze to the collars in his hand. “That one’s for me. You want me to stay close to take care of you, right? What better way to do that than to make sure I never leave your side?”

Your hand slowly travels down to grip his hardened cock, gently stroking it through the soaked fabric. Your finger danced around his tip just the way he liked it— slow and light, just to rile him up even more. You watch his eyes squeeze shut in a sore attempt to hold back his own lewd noises.

“So if I wear the collar you will too?” Your hand expertly works his cock, squeezing his clothed shaft as you stroked him. Unable to verbally respond, Caleb slowly nods while huffing out soft groans.

That’s how you end up on your back in the bed, legs spread with your boyfriend ruthlessly eating your pussy.

Your room is silent apart from the obnoxiously slick noise of your wet, cum soaked skin being slurped and devoured. Caleb made you cum three times already and it looked like he wasn’t stopping.

“C-Caleb—” Your eyes roll back for the nth time as his lips close around your clit for his tongue to flick back and forth in that delicious pattern. He expertly works your clit, slowly and carefully spelling out his name into your arousal all while curling his fingers deep inside your soaking pussy.

“Caleb— god— please—“ Your pleas fall to deaf ears, mostly because he’s trapped his head between your trembling thighs to suffocate in your grip. You can tell he’s getting off on it based on how he fucks your slick back into with his fingers, how he moans loudly with every slurp, kiss and bite on your skin.

He is so gone and he fucking loves it.

Your collar jingles every time you squirm and twitch, and sings a melody whenever your back arches for him. It’s like a little instrument that accompanies the symphony of moans and whimpers that leave your pretty lips.

He’s so animalistic with it, slobbering and drooling all over you while he slurps you up like one of his protein shakes. The bed’s shaking from how he’s grinding on the mattress to get a kick from all that self induced edging— his main priority, however, is you and that cute pussy that has him on a leash (literally and figuratively).

“Keep drippin’, pips.” He groans into your pussy, pressing hot smooches on your lower lips. “Keep cummin’ on my face. Tug on my damn leash. Fuckin’ love tasting you.”

Your clothes had been long abandoned after the first orgasm he ate you through. You made such a mess that your panties (which he will keep for later) were thrown across your room along with the rest of his clothes.

The way his tongue just effortlessly slides right past your entrance and caresses your walls brings a hoarse cry right out of your kiss-swollen lips. And of course your boyfriend dutifully responds with the sluttiest whine you’ve heard. You tug harder at his leash, overwhelmed by the continuous stimulation from his nose bumping your clit.

It all rushes straight down to his cock, jutting against he mattress. He shakes his head to spread your juices all over his face, wanting to be covered and blessed by your essence. Wanting to lick it right off his face once he was done. To have your scent on his form without having to scramble for it by rubbing your used panties on his face.

Eating your pussy alone was more than enough to make him cum untouched. What makes it even better is your relentless tugging of his leash, continuously pulling his face closer to your weeping cunt. If your moans weren’t enough then your trembling thighs were more than sufficient to keep him going. And he’d be damned to waste the meal you’re serving him on a diamond platter.

“Caleb!” Your cry summons another harsh, intense climax bringing your legs to a violent shake. His grip on your thighs tighten and the slurps and muffled groans get so much louder that you can’t even hear your own moans.

He tilts his head back, finally releasing your legs from his iron grip. Eyes closed, Caleb chuckles as he gulps as much air as his lungs can allow.

“Should’ve had you sit on my face.” He rasps and wipes your juices off of his chin. Almost intuitively, you open your lips awaiting a taste of your juices.

“Fucking freak.” You whimper as he stuffs his fingers in your mouth for you to wipe him clean. Your tongue laps up your yummy essence, ensuring all that remains on his hand is just your saliva.

“Your fucking freak, baby.” He slowly move in and out of your mouth until the tips of his fingers tap the back of your throat making you gag around him. “Your freak that loves eating you good, loves making you feel good, loves making you cum.”

His free hand cups your pussy, feeling your wetness soak his hand like a waterfall. “Look at you. Making such a mess.” He raises his hand and lands a soft smack on your pussy making you jump from the overstimulation. Your bell jingles from the impact. He finally retracts his fingers to lick your spit off his hand, relishing in your taste with a low moan.

“Speak… for yourself.” You huff, eyes darting down to his reddened twitching length. Globs of precum dripped down his thick shaft surrounded with throbbing veins— three to be specific. “Got you all hard from eating me like a good boy.”

Caleb’s eyes flutter shut from the dirty comment. His cock jumped, dripping precum right onto your hot skin. “It’s like you want me to stuff you to remind you what gets your eyes rolling back.”

“All bark, no bite.” You grin, watching his eyes rapidly dilate. “You gonna bark again, baby?”

“Woof.” Damn, that’s fucking hot. You say nothing apart from spreading your legs wider for him. An invitation for him to act on his word. “Humble me then, Colonel. Or maybe I’ll be doing that—“

Your words get swallowed by his lips and tongue engulfing you in a lascivious kiss. Rough and demanding, breaths heavy and endless, Caleb wastes no time aligning his dripping tip with your entrance. He circles around you, slowly stroking up and down, bumping his cockhead with your swollen bud. Your juices spill all over his shaft, making it so much smoother, wetter, lewder. Fuck.

“Stop teasing,” You tug his leash as you moan against his hungry lips. “Put it in, ‘leb.”

“Mm, command me.” He grins. “You want me to fuck you good, yeah? You want this cock all up in you? Want me to stuff you full?”

The stimulation is too good for you to respond, all that can be mustered is a nod. “Use your words, pips.”

Of course.

His finger taps the bell on your collar, ringing out a cute dingle! Teasingly tapping on it, his cock slides up and down your folds, tip occasionally teasing itself right into you before pulling out. You can tell it’s driving him insane too, from how his breath is laboured, how his eyes are slowly but surely rolling back, and most definitely those soft whimpers he’s struggling to hide.

“Please, baby,” You whine, grinding your hips hard against his cock and tugging harsh on his leash. You’re practically drunk on him without even having his girth inside you. “Put in in f’me. Want you to fuck me full. Be good ’n stuff me.”

“Heh,” Caleb huffs, almost choking from how hard you pulled him. He presses his cockhead into your pussy, groaning at how tight you squeeze around him, sucking him in like a vacuum. “Yes ma’am.”

And he slips in smooth like a hand into a glove. Maybe because you’re slick from all the times he made you cum with his mouth. You both tilt your heads back, close to cumming right on the spot. He pauses to catch his breath, the dog tag on his necklace and the leather strap of his leash dangling right over your face.

“Oh, she’s squeezin’ so hard.” He grins, practically drooling from how your pussy sucks him riiiight in.

He rocks in and out of you fast, absorbing the sound of your slick and cum squelching, drenching his cock in your essence. Each thrust takes him deeper and deeper into you until his tip pokes your sensitive gummy spot.

Your little bell jumps with your titties, jingling and ringing with each relentless pounding of his length in you while his heavy sacks smack your skin. It feels so gooood and so fucking lewd that your words are reduced to incoherent mumbles.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Caleb chuckles, dragging his length in and out of your pussy with relentless speed. Even he can’t hold back his deliciously slutty moans from how good you squeeze and tighten around him. His eyes are locked on your collar, glossing over the jingling metal accompanying your moans.

“You like how I’m stuffing you?”

Your eyes cross right over, tongue tempted to loll right out. The overstimulation becomes too much even for you, forcing out so many fresh cruel orgasms from you that a ring of your cum paints the base of his cock.

“You— ah— must love how tight I clench on you,” You manage to bite back, deliberately clenching your walls to tease him. “While you fuck me deep ’n rough.”

“Fuck—“ The bed is practically screaming from the pressure of you being hammered clean. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

“Then do it, baby.” You must have trained him subconsciously. His cock spills heavy, hot globs of his cum right into your soaked pussy, stuffing you right up real good. His whines travel right down to your core, turning you on even more than you could possibly imagine. Something about him being so relentlessly horny for you drives you insane.

“You’re evil, baby.” Caleb groans, pressing hot kisses all over your skin, from your neck right to your jaw all while still thrusting his cum into you. You can just feel some of it escaping your plugged pussy, leaking onto the bed with the rest of your lewd juices. “Making’ me cum like this. Driving me crazy with that pussy of yours.”

Plap! Plap! Plap! sounds around the room alongside your joint cries, sweat-slick skin smacking, and your bell jingling like crazy. Your grip on his leash tightens, tugging him down right to your lips.

The kiss is so deliciously sloppy and wet with your tongues overlapping and teeth clashing. Your core tightens and burns with that familiar heat, screaming for release. “Caleb— ‘m gonna cum again.”

“Good.” He pulls right out of you, leaving your poor pussy clenching on air and practically pulsing his name in morse code. “Cum f’me like a good girl.”

He raises your legs from the bed, hooking them on his shoulders and pounding his cock right back into you. In a much deeper angle hitting your sensitive core all while pinching and rubbing your clit with a calloused finger.

You choke out a cry, vision going completely white as the overstimulation burns through your skin right up your spine. The tightness in your core completely snaps, releasing juices all over you, all over him, all over the damn bed until everything in the eye can see is soaked.

“Thaaaat’s it, baby.” He grins, watching your juices drip down his abs flexing with every thrust. He leans down, pushing you into the meanest mating press to date. His cock practically bullies your cervix with his inhumanely mean thrusts, spurting globs of cum from his last orgasm right into you.

“Squirt on me.” Your toes curl as your eyes roll back into your head. “Make a mess all over me.” He’s babbling at this rate, praising everything you do while he rails you to the stars. “Pussy’s so good f’me. You’re so good f’me. Wanna stuff you to the brim. Wanna make you feel so good ’n comfy that you won’t need to lift a finger.��

You can only whimper in response to his praises. Your nails claw at his back while fruitlessly tugging at his leash. But a flimsy thing like that won’t hold either of you. If anything, it drives you even crazier for each other.

You could go on for hours, days, till the fucking room smells like you. Till the windows and mirrors fog. Till you milk him dry to the fuckin’ bone. Till you’re both so cockdrunk and pussydrunk that your names are the only things you can utter.

Not even a few seconds after Caleb loudly whines as another huge stuffing of hot cum fills you up good. His eyes cross as his tongue sticks right out, dripping saliva right into your mouth. Feeling so nasty yet so damn good, you take it all in, relishing in his taste.

“Fuck, wanna taste you—“ Using the remnants of his strength that didn’t go with his cum right into you, Caleb lifts you up into his arms with his cock still lodged inside. You swear it must have swollen up inside you.

He drives his hips up into you, pushing his cock nice and hard and deep. “Spit into my mouth, baby.” He sticks his tongue out, almost wagging it for you like the tease he is. “Drip into my mouth.”

And who are you to refuse him of his desires? Not to mention, you’ve always had the desire to do it too. The only concern is how he expects you to do it while he fucks you both beyond the point of overstimulation.

But Caleb being Caleb always finds a way. He nips your squished titties, dragging a loud sultry moan out of your lips, bringing drool right out of your tongue and right into his waiting mouth. And that alone just makes him cum again, strongly spurting his cum right into you as if he hasn’t done it twice already.

You’re fucked through and through, almost limp in his embrace and yet still hungry for more. As his cock pumps his seed deep into you, he kisses you with praises of reverence and love.

“So good.” He babbles, tonguing the bell on your collar, whimpering with the soft jingles. “So fuckin’ good. ‘M not gonna stop. ‘M gonna fuck you good all night. Stuff you full of my cum. You want that, baby?”

You quickly nod, mumbling your yeses with hiccups and moans. There was no way you were going to stop at the rate you were going. Perhaps when the sun rises. Or when your injuries heal. You’re not complaining though. It’s not every day you get to have your boyfriend like this, and you plan to make the most of it.

caleb's making me too feral for my own good.

#✧.* thalwri #✧.* thalwri works #love and deepspace smut #love and deepspace x reader #lnds smut #love and deepspace #lads smut #caleb smut #love and deepspace caleb #lads caleb #caleb x reader #caleb love and deepspace #lnds caleb

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cherrygirlfriend · 4 months ago

Text

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ examination table

pairing: gynecologist!rafe x reader synopsis: you go to get artificial insemination. your gyno has a different method. warnings/tags: smut, artificial insemination, unprotected piv, breeding kink, public sex, small surprise at the end, MDNI! wc: 1.2k a/n; aside from having to do a strange amount of research about ovulation, iui and me overall being against male gynos; this was fun.

rafe masterlist ♡

you couldn't resist the urge to tap the heel of your boot against the linoleum floor - rolling your golden wedding band so you wouldn't bite your freshly manicured nails. it felt like your heart was going to thump thump thump out of your chest and land on the floor in front of you.

there were only three other people in the waiting room, a few posters related to women's health decorating the otherwise plain, dull, light green walls of the office, the tick-tock of the clock and the hushed whispers of the two nurses behind the front desk being the only thing you could focus on, along with the overpowering stench of chanel no 5 that was wafting from the other customer waiting for her appointment browsing through an age-old copy of cosmopolitan.

you nearly hopped to your feet when the door to one of the offices opened, clutching your purse like it was the only thing keeping you afloat. "come in." doctor cameron said with a small smile on his lips, gesturing towards his office.

you followed the tall man into the sterile, white office, holding your arms tightly against your chest, your shoulders hunched. when doctor cameron noticed how skittish you were being, he offered a small smile, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder before using it to cup your cheek and lifting it up so you were forced to look at his freckled face, "there's no need to be nervous. this is a pretty regular procedure. you can change into the gown and lay down on the examination table."

when you let out a reluctant nod, the doctor walked further into his office, giving you some privacy. while you listened to him rifle through papers, slowly, you tugged your sweater off along with your jeans, leaving your underwear to cover your skin that was now in goosebumps while you covered yourself with the blue rustling hospital gown, until it came time to slip them off.

you took a few tentative steps towards the examination table, walking on your heels as your gynecologist turned to face you, your chart in his hands, his blue eyes skimming over the details as you sat down onto the examination table, the paper sheet rustling against the paper gown in a way that made you cringe.

"so, how many days ago did you take your last dose of clomid?"

"eight days ago." you said with a tight smile, fiddling with the hem of your gown, "and i did an ovulation test before i left home, and it said my ovulation should be at its highest."

"you've really done your homework." he chuckled, placing down the clipboard, placing his warm hand on your bare knee in a comforting gesture. "are you ready to get started? i've got your husband's specimen prepared. don't worry, the catheter won't hurt, you might just feel a bit uncomfortable for a moment."

you took a deep breath, closing your eyes and laying back as you steadied your breathing, trying your best to get comfortable. "ready." you whispered softly, opening your eyes to look up at the slightly yellow-tinted fluorescent light above you.

"it helps the sperm to travel if you've got your pelvis propped up." doctor cameron said in a slightly hushed tone, lifting your hips up and placing a pillow underneath your hips, his hands pressing your hips down to meet it, keeping them there as he looked down at you with a small smile. "there you go. are you comfortable?"

"it does." you swallow dryly, fiddling with the paper sheet underneath you, sighing. "i hope it works out. we've been trying to get pregnant for a year now."

"yeah?" he looked down at you, his eyes crinkling slightly, the feel of the pads of his fingers brushing against your bare skin as he drew small patterns to the hem of your hospital gown. "you know what people say helps with getting pregnant?"

"what?" you almost whispered, your thighs starting to form goosebumps under doctor cameron's fingers as they slowly slid under the crinkly god-ugly gown.

"orgasms." his hand continued to slide up your inner thigh, the metal of your doctor's wedding ring a pleasing contrast against your warm skin, "it's never been proven to be accurate, of course." his hand was just under your crotch, drawing infinity-symbols on your skin, a pondering look on his face as he cocked his head to the side, a small smirk appearing on his face, "but it never hurts to be thorough, right?"

doctor cameron had you folded over on the examination table, holding your legs at your sides, his warm lips placing sloppy, hot kisses on your neck as his cock slid out of you before slamming against your cervix, the man letting out a soft breathy laugh at every little gasp or moan that managed to escape your lips.

"how many times do i have to tell you, sweetie?" he mumbled against your skin, rafe's words intensified by the pace of his hips snapping against yours increasing, a loud yelp leaving you, "you don't need to try and keep quiet. no one's gonna hear us." he breathed out.

the pad of his thumb found your your clit, starting to draw small circles on it as the room was filled with your unsteady breathing combined with the lewd squelch of your pussy every time his hips met yours, "come on, let me hear all those pretty little noises... it's not like this is the first time we've fooled around here."

rafe tried pulling away from your neck, but you tugged him closer by his hair, holding him there as tightly as possible "god, rafe..." you moaned out, the doctor letting out a pleased hum against your skin.

"come on, sweetie... tell me how much you want me to put a baby in you, yeah?"

"so badly..." your back arched off the examination table while rafe's long fingers slid up to your breast, teasing it with small kneads and pinches before his left hand found your hand, your fingers intertwining with his, your matching wedding bands meeting.

"i love you so much... i can't wait for you to be all pretty and pregnant." he smiled against your skin, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

MEANWHILE….

"i wonder what's taking dr. cameron so long..." the receptionist wondered aloud with a frown on her pouty lips, turning to look at the clock on the wall as she tapped her pink fingernails against the desk, "i mean, it's almost lunchtime."

the other receptionist let out a snort, interrupting the movement of the file against her long nail, turning to look at the other girl with raised brows, chewing gum. "what, you don't know?"

"know what?"

"oh, this is good." the receptionist laughed, throwing her head back with laughter in her office chair. "you don't know who she is."

"what?" the other girl asked, huffing in annoyance as she grabbed a cheeto out of the bag sitting in front of them.

"that client is mrs. cameron."

"as in-"

"yup, that was doctor cameron's wife." she let out a loud snort of a laugh as she shook her head, grabbing a cheeto before going back to filing her nails. "guess she gets special treatment."

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