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cherrygirlfriend · 3 months ago

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⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ office visitations

pairing: wife!reader x ceo!rafe synopsis: wife!reader goes to visit rafe at work for lunch warnings: smut, breeding kink, praise, soft rafe, talk of pregnancy, fluffy ending MDNI - wc: 2k a/n: another old fic! i swear i’m actually gonna post something new, i’m currently preparing some fics for a milestone <3 be patient pls!! fun fact; this was first posted on my birthday!! originally posted 11/15/2024

rafe masterlist ♡

everyone on kildare island wondered how rafe cameron of all men had managed to land you; sure, he was rich and good looking, but in figure 8, that was nothing. but somehow he had, and only after six months of being your boyfriend, he had asked you to marry him; no one knew that he had been looking at rings after your very first date.

you were basically his opposite; the sweet, girl-next-door pogue who no one ever had anything bad to say about, while he was known to lash out at whoever was in the wrong place in the wrong time, but after meeting you, he was obsessed.

rafe was sitting in his office, just having finished up a board meeting, those always stressing him out, paperwork piling on his desk, his cup of coffee having gone cold already.

there was a soft knock on rafe's door, and he rubbed his forehead, letting out a small scoff; he had told his secretary to not let absolutely anyone to come bother him. he looked up at the door, letting out a cold and detached, "come in." knowing that his secretary would be looking for a new job.

but as soon as he saw the familiar pair of eyes playfully peek into his office, it was like all the tension slowly rolled off his shoulders. "hi." you said with a smile that was so bright and sunny rafe was sure it could've melted down an icecap. "can i come in?"

rafe cleared his throat, standing up from his chair, "yeah, of course." the man smiled, running a hand through his mussed-up blonde hair as you stepped into his office. you were wearing a long, flowy sundress, carrying two cups of coffee and a bag of something, "what's this?" your husband asked amusedly, his head nodding toward the bag.

"i brought you some coffee and croissants." you said, placing the things on his desk and turning to him, "i knew you're always stressed after board meetings. i would be too, if i had to sit around with a bunch of old guys for an hour straight listening to their issues with you or whatever you do." you chuckled, straightening the collar of his button-up.

"you know just what i need." he groaned, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, tilting his head down so he could nuzzle it into your neck, breathing in the floral scent of your perfume while you let out a small chuckle, your eyes closing as you held him, stroking his back.

he pulled back, looking down at your dress with a small grin, "did you wear this for me?" he asked, feeling the fabric inbetween his fingers, "it looks great."

"thank you. my husband got it for me." you said playfully, giving him your left hand. rafe took hold of it, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand before looking at your engagement ring.

"he has great taste. in women, in clothing, and in jewelry."

you laugh softly, shaking your head and rolling your eyes, until rafe took your chin inbetween his pointer finger and his thumb, forcing you to look up at him, the man admiring the way your eyes twinkled, moving his hands to rest on your waist again. "you look so gorgeous."

"and you look very handsome." you said, tugging him down into a kiss, your lips on his immediately causing rafe's head to buzz. rafe's hands slowly slid down to your ass, grabbing at the flesh through your summer dress, pulling you closer while one of your hands was on his chest, and one of your hands was on the back of his neck, short blond hair meeting your soft palms.

you pulled away from the kiss breathlessly, keeping your forehead and nose pressed to his, your breaths mingling together while your eyes were closed.

"i missed you..."

"you saw me this morning." rafe mumbled, one of his hands traveling to your cheek, cupping it in his hand while his thumb stroked your soft cheek.

"does that mean i can't miss you?" your brows raised with a chuckle, the hand that had been resting on his chest was now tugging his button-up out of the trousers they were tucked in, rafe letting out a small groan when he felt your warm hand slowly trail up the line of his abs, "you know, i realized something…" you practically purred into his ear.

"yeah? what'd you realize, sweetie?" he asked, nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck, pressing small kisses on your warm skin, causing shivers to run down your spine, goosebumps starting to form all over your body.

"i'm ovulating." you whispered with a grin, before pulling back to see his reaction. rafe lifted his head, looking at you with half-lidded eyes and a small grin, his hands sliding down to rest on the curve of your ass.

"mmhm, 's that the case?" he asked, he shamelessly looking down at your tits, rafe's adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed, your fingers starting to unbutton the buttons of his shirt, revealing more and more of his tanned chest, shivers running down his spine when he felt your manicured nails on the skin that you were slowly baring. "i guess we should take advantage of that, then."

you let out a small squeal when your husband lifted you into his arms without any difficulty, carrying you to the other side of his desk. rafe sat down on his chair, positioning you so that you were straddling him, his calming cerulean eyes gazing up into yours.

your hand moves to the nape of his neck, fingers gently playing with the short tendrils of hair there as you gaze down at him, the hint of a smile playing at your lips. rafe brought his hand closer to your face, his fingers curling under your chin, bringing your face to meet his, the sides of your noses pressed against one another, breaths mingling together before his lips brushed against yours.

and soon, rafe's shirt hung unbuttoned on his broad shoulders, your panties discarded on his desk, your body still mostly covered by your dress, his slacks and boxers at his ankles. the thumb of his left hand brushed against your hardened nipple over the fabric of your dress, a small gasp escaping your lips as your soaked entrance hovered over the tip of his cock, practically aching to sink itself down on him.

"you ready?" rafe whispered under you, pressing a featherlight kiss on your clothed nipple, and somehow even that was enough to make you dizzy; you couldn't speak, simply nodding, his hands slowly crawling up from the sides of your thighs up your dress until they were on your hips, rafe's touch so hot you thought he might leave burn marks. slowly, he started bringing your hips lower, a long drawn-out whimper leaving your lips when you finally felt rafe stretch you out; you'd been together for a long time but every time his cock entered you it felt like the first time.

even though you were the one straddling him, rafe was the one doing all the work. slowly, he lifted you up, before bringing you back down, your head thrown back, lost in all the bliss you were feeling, his lips attaching themselves to your neck, pressing soft kisses on your pulse point as you let out small, soft laughs when you felt his stubble on your skin.

although his lips moved away from your neck, rafe continued moving you on top of him by your hips, briefly bringing one of his hands to cup your cheek, making you look down at him, your eyes hazy and glossed over from the pleasure he was giving you.

"you look so gorgeous like this..." rafe whispered, letting out a grunt as he felt you deliberately clench yourself around him, the corners of your mouth quirking up into an adorable, almost shy smile, your cheeks feeling warmer due to his sweet words.

he moved his hand back to your hips, continuing to guide you up and down on his cock, slightly picking up his pace, whimpers leaving your lips whenever he bottomed out in you, hitting that one spot like it was nothing, when for you, it felt like everything.

"so damn gorgeous..." he mumbled against your skin, and as one of rafe's hands traveled down to your pussy, his thumb starting to draw languid circles on your clit, you started moving your hips just slightly faster, every part of you screaming that you needed more of him, needed to feel every part of him.

"please..." you whined, the tone of your voice making something in rafe's chest ache while also making the heat in his abdomen nearly double.

as his thumb picked up its pace, your head felt so beautifully blank; all you could focus on were the sensations running through your body, the fire he'd lit inside of you, and the orgasm you were already starting to feel approaching.

"please, i'm so close..." you whined, your words getting muddled with your moans.

your eyes were closed, unable to see the way your husband was admiring you, looking up at you with pupils blown so wide his blue eyes might as well have turned into the shape of a heart, and he continued bucking his hips up into you, both of you chasing your orgasms, the sound of squelching and moaning filling his office.

suddenly, he felt your walls spasming around his cock, your orgasm washing over you as you held on tight to his shoulders, your body shuddering with pleasure, moans leaving your lips without you even realizing it was happening.

rafe watched as you came undone, continuing to move inside of you even though your walls felt snug around him, the man starting to feel a familiar tightening in his abdomen.

"'m so close..." rafe mumbled, not even sure if you could hear him through the bubble of bliss you seemed to be encased in. "gonna come in you... gonna put a baby in you... you're gonna look so gorgeous with my baby in you..."

when you let out a soft whimper, trying to move yourself on his cock even though you were still riding out his orgasm, rafe groaned, burying his head in the crook of your neck, loud whines leaving your lips when he fucked into you at a faster pace, rafe almost losing himself in you and the way you felt around him, knowing he'd never get enough of you, never get enough of having you like this.

it didn't take long until he let out a loud groan, and you felt ropes of his cum filling you, moving your hips slightly to make sure he was as deep inside of you as possible, the closeness feeling almost intoxicating.

neither one of you spoke for a while, and the only noise that could be heard in his office were the pants that slowly turned into regular breathing, and finally when it had settled, you pressed your forehead against rafe's, taking a deep breath.

you felt rafe's hand on your cheek, his thumb stroking the soft skin there, and it was like he was reading your thoughts; sometimes the way he knew you intimidated you, just because the thought of ever losing that scared the hell out of you.

"it's gonna happen." he said comfortingly, opening his eyes to look into yours, and you pulled your forehead away from his to do the same. you brought your hand to your abdomen, looking down at it while letting out a small sniffle, your tone laced with insecurity, "you think so?"

rafe pressed his hand over yours, and you wondered how someone could know exactly everything you thought and needed, his large, ringed hand somehow managing to soothe every single thought running through your mind.

"i know so, and i'm never wrong, am i?" he grinned smugly, making you roll your eyes, a soft laugh escaping your lips.

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eveningdreams8 · 1 year ago

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(Miniature) couch restoration

I found this couch ( with a bunch of other things I didn't care about) for 2$ at a second hand store

Finding dollhouse miniatures is kind of rare around here so I grabbed it, I thought at worst it would be a cheap MDF off of AliExpress or something and I could repaint it, but once I scraped a bit of the paint off I was pleasantly surprised to find a nice wood finish!

There was at least 3 to 4 layers of paint through (⁠‘⁠◉⁠⌓⁠◉⁠’⁠) (white, gray, maybe white again and finally pink)

Out of curiosity I pried up the fabric which was obviously not the original, to find another unoriginal fabric and pried that up too and that was still not the original 🤣 matroshka doll of upholstery

After huffing 99% alcohol and paint brush cleaner for probably 5 or so hours I ended up with this

I left the back and seat of the couch rough as it would be covered in fabric anyway, it looks like that maybe at some point this got sanded in a few spots? I fixed it up by finally using my furniture repair markers as intended (mostly I don't think they had mini furniture in mind)

You can see on the left half where I tried different colours to see what would match best

Now new upholstery! I only had the original couch cushion seat so I decided to just redo the whole thing in silk of corse (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

I wanted it to look a little worn so I picked this really textured blueish green/cream dupini silk

From barbie would be embarrassed to have this in her house to Victorian centerpiece! Or well I would like to think so ;;;

#dollhouse #dollhouse scale #dollhouse miniature #miniature #dollhouse miniatures #not bjd #but my personal tag is #bjd #1:12 scale #1/12 #1/12 scale

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7frogsspeaks · 3 months ago

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If you've never worked in a big corporate office you are missing out on half of Severance

Everyone seems to be talking about the setting of this show like it's a big mystery we're waiting on answers for, and I keep having to remind myself that this is the Unemployed Website because every single aspect of the severed floor is a direct parody of corporate office work. Some of it is pretty obvious to anyone (being a totally different person at work than you are at home, excessive surveillance, etc), but unless you've worked in one of these places there's a ton you're probably missing.

So, for those of you who (luckily) lack corporate office experience, here is a non-exhaustive list of real phenomenon Severence is referencing:

- Having absolutely no clue where anything is other than your department. A large corporate office truly feels like working in a brightly-lit, featureless labyrinth. You get lost so easily, and the number of turns and hallways in the opening scene is not that much more extreme than how I had to get to my department (which was over a 5-minute walk from the main entrance). It's common to draw new employees a map.

- Cult-like worship and constant quoting of the company's founder/founding family and core operating principles. Long-time employees will genuinely treat it like religious doctrine. It's scary.

- The relationship between departments. The different cultures, outrageous rumors, distrust, compete lack of understanding of who they are, how many of them there are, where they work, what they do, and generally treating them like a foreign country is barely even a parody. It's just really like that. Going to another department and seeing their equipment and work area (and being stared at by a bunch of people who don't expect a stranger to be there) might as well be walking into a room that's a hill with intimidating goat farmers.

- Other people's jobs being utterly incomprehensible. The department that had a room behind a wall next to mine apparently used it for filling backpacks with weights until the straps broke. Another department had someone whose job was to shine different lights onto pieces of fabric and record the color difference. One of my positions was measuring various pants 20 different ways and then taking notes while a specific person tried them on. Apparently a guy somewhere occasionally got paid to make watercolors of birds. Some people did finance. You get the idea.

- Only ever hearing from upper management (who are treated like a group of fickle, wrathful gods) through a nervous secretary and never hearing their voices/seeing their faces. You might know their names.

- Weird, uncomfortable, often ritualesque events that are treated like a big deal. The company I worked for, for example, would announce the employees of the year by having a committee of people with noisemakers and silly hats parade around the buildings until they got to the person's desk, and then take their photo to hang on the wall. People were not warned beforehand, it was a ~surprise~. This happened daily at random times for over a week each year, and long-standing employees got really into it.

- People genuinely fighting over all those meaningless, patronizing rewards like pizza parties, fancy pens, etc. Having an "employee of the month" mug, for example, is treated as an enviable status symbol. Presumably this is why corporations think this stuff will also work in the service industry (it doesn't because service workers are normal).

- Ridiculous conspiracy theories about the building, management, coworkers, or company history, peddled like gossip.

- New employees having a rough adjustment period where it feels like you're adapting to an alternate universe. Office culture is nothing like real life though it's closer if you live in white suburbia and have an HOA, so during most people's first time working in one they bump up against a lot of unspoken rules, weird taboos, and general culture shock. Most of this involves navigating strictly-enforced social hierarchies, verbal adherence to company ideals, and using only specific types of communication, and being chastised when you mess up. It 100% feels like being indoctrinated into a cult.

- Not understanding the purpose of the work you're doing, and only receiving vague answers, that it's "important", and that there's a big exciting deadline. No single department has access to the big picture for how everyone's jobs fit together to accomplish something, you'd have to work in all of them or in upper management to figure it out. The inner machinations and goals of the company are generally treated like a mysterious secret.

- Never seeing the sky. Window offices are a prized commodity since the buildings are so big, so unless you're a high-up manager or the company has gone to great lengths to add access to widows (most don't because it's really expensive) you likely won't see daylight until you leave, even if you travel around the building during the day.

And for the Lifetime Unemployment crowd, some more general job phenomenon:

- So. Many. Acronyms. And being expected to say them all with a straight face, even if they sound really silly.

- Coworkers effectively ceasing to exist the moment they leave the company, with zero explanation given for why they're suddenly gone unless there's a retirement party.

- Management giving ridiculously nit-picky feedback as a form of hazing/power play, especially to marginalized people.

- Upper management making sudden, drastic changes to your job expectations, physical workplace, or management structure with zero notice and penalizing you if you can't adapt immediately.

- The entire vibe of your job being dictated by who your manager is.

- Your coworkers acting like what happens at work is their entire life, and treating their home lives as something extra they do on the side.

- Having no clue who your coworkers are outside of work, and that information being largely treated as taboo.

- Being effectively locked in a sealed space with zero access to the outside world for the entirety of your workday, and being told that that's not weird or a problem– it's a benefit that helps you focus on your job.

Basically: There's no big mystery to the structure and culture of Lumon/the severed floor. Most of it is never going to get a canon "explanation" because the target audience already has one. It's all a parody.

EDIT: Reblogged with more office-specific ones and some photo evidence

#and yes I know that some of these are noticeable by people who haven't worked in an office or at all!#but not inherently you'd have to have second/third hand experience with offices or job culture and not everyone does #and not everyone is from the US #the company history/mission statements/etc WILL be in a bound book that you may receive a personal copy of by the way #severance #long post #lumon industries #severance lumon #office culture #workplace culture

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strangerexee · 2 months ago

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ꜱɪʀ, ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ ꜰɪɴᴇ | ʙᴏ ᴄʜᴏᴡ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴘᴛ.2

You were still trying to catch your breath, still perched all pretty on that wobbly old stool in the back storeroom, your dress hitched up indecently high, your thighs sticky and trembling.

And Bo Chow. Lord have mercy, he literally just stood there.

Cool as you please. Straightened up to his full height, the buttons of his crisp white shirt stretched just a little across his broad chest, and tilted his head at you.

That little tilt, like he was studying something he was about to break just to put it back together again.

And then, his voice. Low. Sweet. Thick like honey poured real slow from the jar.

"Where you want it, sweetheart?" "Front or back?"

Your whole body shivered. A deep, aching heat rolled through you so thick you almost couldn't breathe.

You should’ve been embarrassed. You should’ve blushed, fidgeted, something.

But you didn’t. You met his gaze, eyes wide, breathing uneven, and somehow, somehow, you found the guts to say it:

"However you want it…sir."

Something dark and wild flickered in Bo’s eyes. Not surprise. Satisfaction. Like he knew all along you were gonna fold for him, and now you had.

Good and proper.

He huffed a little chuckle through his nose, low, raspy, wrecking you without even trying.

"Yeah?" he said, cocking an eyebrow.

Drawled it out slow, almost teasing. His hand flexed loose at his side, like he was thinking about how exactly he wanted to handle you.

The tension crackled in the air, sweet and hot and dangerous.

Bo took a slow step toward you. Boots heavy on the old wood floor.

You couldn't look away, felt frozen in place, heart pounding in your throat.

Without a word, he leaned down, slow and deliberate, and wrapped those big, rough hands around your ankles.

Gentle. Almost careful. You shivered when his fingers brushed your bare skin.

He found your panties, the ones bunched messily around your ankles, and with a little smirk, pulled them back up for you.

Real slow. Real deliberate. Like he was taking his time dressing you, only because it was his pleasure to undress you later.

The soft fabric dragged up your calves, your thighs, until it snapped back into place under your dress.

Bo let his hands linger at your hips, thumbs pressing into the soft curves, before he straightened up again.

God, he was so tall. So broad. So dangerous.

And still, still a damn gentleman about it.

"You still got a job to do, sunshine," he murmured, voice syrup-sweet and rough-edged, "Customers waitin’."

He winked, the cockiest, filthiest little wink you ever saw, and then turned and strode for the door without a second glance back.

Left you there. Shaking. Flushed. Soaked through. Panting like you’d just run a mile barefoot.

You slid off the stool with shaking knees, hands smoothing your skirt down, trying to fix yourself, but it was no use.

You felt ruined.

And Bo Chow? He knew it. He wanted you to feel it.

The door swung back open a second later, and he popped his head in, grinning that wicked grin.

"Don't fret, sweetheart," he drawled. "I'll give it to ya later.”

And then he was gone again, his voice still floating in the air like smoke and sin.

You stumbled out into the main store, face hot, hands shaking, body still thrumming with leftover need.

The bell over the door jingled as a new customer walked in.

And there was Bo, already behind the counter, wiping his hands on a rag, cool and casual like he hadn’t just had his mouth on you five minutes ago.

You caught his eye across the room. He smiled.

Slow. Confident. Wicked.

You almost dropped the basket you were holding.

Lord have mercy. You were in so much trouble. And you loved it.

The second the store closed and that front door clicked shut, Bo was on you.

No words. No soft coaxing. Just heat, raw and blinding.

He gripped your wrist, real firm but not hurting, and pulled you to the truck outside without a damn care for anything else.

Tossed your basket onto the seat beside you like it weighed nothing.

You barely had time to blink before he was climbing behind the wheel, those big, work-worn hands flexing around it tight enough to make the leather creak.

You sat there, squirming on the cracked leather bench seat, heart hammering outta your chest, sneaking glances at him out the corner of your eye.

Good Lord.

The rolled-up sleeves. The thick forearms dusted with dark hair. The way his jaw ticked when he caught you looking and grinned like he knew exactly what you were thinking.

Bo didn’t say much on the ride. Just kept one big hand firm on your thigh the whole way back. Fingers squeezing sometimes, like he just had to remind himself you were real.

His thumb stroking lazy circles on your skin. Low, rumbling hums escaping his throat when you shifted, when your skirt crept higher, when your breathing hitched.

You pulled up to a squat little house on the edge of town, plain and sturdy, just like him.

Before you could reach for the door handle, Bo was already moving.

Rounded the truck, opened your door for you, and when you hopped down, too slow for his liking, he just grabbed you.

Big hands under your thighs, hauling you up against him like you weighed nothing. You gasped, clinging to his shoulders. The muscles there flexed hard under your fingers.

"Don't worry, sunshine," he rasped, lips brushing your ear. "Ain't gonna drop ya. 'M gonna take real good care of you."

He carried you clean into the house, booted the door shut behind him, and didn’t stop moving 'til he had you in his bedroom.

Dropped you right on the mattress, rough but careful, and stood back just long enough to unbutton his sleeves and shove them up his thick forearms.

You stared. Lord have mercy. The cut of his arms. The thick veins. The wide, calloused hands that had already ruined you once today and were about to do it again.

You scrambled up onto your knees at the edge of the bed, reaching for him without even thinking.

And Bo, God bless him, caught your wrists in one big hand, smirking like the devil himself.

"So greedy already, sweetheart?" he teased, voice syrup-slow and mean-sweet.

You nodded fast, bold and shameless now, drunk on him, and whispered:

"Please."

Bo chuckled low in his chest, that filthy sound that made your whole body clench.

He leaned down, gripped the hem of your dress and yanked it up over your hips without ceremony.

You were soaked for him. His eyes darkened, heavy and hot.

"Fuckin' hell," he muttered. "Look at you. Drippin' for me already."

He told you to get on your hands and knees. Of course you listened.

He shoved at your back, real gentle but real firm, until you were braced on your elbows, ass high for him.

You gasped when you felt him, big, hot, hard against the back of your thigh.

You twisted around to look at him, wide-eyed, panting.

Bo just laughed under his breath. One hand gripped your hip, tight enough to bruise, and the other lined himself up right at your entrance.

"Hold still for me, sugar," he rasped. "Gonna make you feel real good."

And then he pushed in, slow at first, just the thick head stretching you open, until you moaned desperately and pushed back against him, needing more.

Bo groaned, low and filthy, and gripped your hips even tighter.

"Greedy lil thing," he panted. "Want all of it, huh?"

"Yeah—sir—" you gasped.

He laughed, a rough, broken sound, and slammed the rest of the way in.

You saw stars. Your elbows buckled, your body rocked forward with the force of it.

Bo grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanked your head back just enough to murmur in your ear:

"Takin' me so good, pretty girl." "So tight around me."

Then he started to move. Rough. Hard. Deep, so, so deep.

Driving into you like he owned you, like you were his and only his, like he was gonna fuck every other thought right outta your pretty little head.

You cried out, loud and gasping and needy, hand reaching back to push against him, as if that would do anything. But not broken. Never broken.

Just wild and burning for him.

Every time his hips snapped against your ass, his hand slid rough over your waist, holding you still, guiding you where he wanted you.

At one point, he gave your ass a light smack, just a quick, sharp tap, and rumbled:

"That's it, baby. Take it."

You moaned, high and breathless, and he laughed, rough and full of filthy pride.

He didn’t slow down. No, Kept you bent just right, his thick cock hitting that sweet, aching spot inside you over and over, kept you teetering right on the edge of breaking.

Every inch of you burned for him. Every thrust punched little moans from your throat. You could barely breathe, barely think. And you loved it.

You loved the way he handled you, like he couldn’t get enough, like he needed you.

"Gonna come for me, sweetheart?" he panted against your ear. "Gonna let me fill this sweet lil pussy up?"

"Yes—yes—" you sobbed, desperate and honest.

Bo groaned low, like he was proud of you, and reached around, sliding two thick fingers to rub tight circles over your clit while he kept pounding into you from behind.

That was it.

The world shattered, heat exploding behind your eyes, your body locking up, clenching around him hard enough to drag a deep, broken curse from his throat.

Bo drove into you three more times, deep, brutal strokes, before he spilled inside you with a low, ragged groan.

You collapsed forward onto the mattress, gasping, shaking. Bo slumped over you, breathing heavy against your shoulder.

He didn’t pull away.

Just stayed there, heavy and warm and solid, pressing kisses to the nape of your neck. Real soft now. Real sweet.

After a minute, he finally leaned back, ran a hand over your back, your ass, your thighs, soothing, praising, claiming.

"Good girl," he murmured. "Took me so fuckin' good."

You smiled, soft and wrecked and stupidly happy, and let him roll you into his arms. Safe. Satisfied. Ruined.

You barely had a second to catch your breath before Bo was shifting under you,reaching up, grabbing your hips, flipping you onto him with zero effort.

You landed across his broad chest, sprawled and gasping, blinking down at him.

He looked wrecked, hair wild, jaw tight, chest heaving. But his cock, Jesus Christ, his cock was still hard.

Thick and heavy against his stomach. Still leaking, still hungry. You swallowed hard.

Bo just grinned, slow and wolfish, and tapped two fingers against your thigh.

"C'mon, sugar." "Ain't done with you yet." "Get up here. Ride me like a good girl."

Your whole body throbbed at the command. You nodded, eager, aching, and scrambled up.

Bo leaned back against the headboard, hands braced behind his head, just watching you with lazy, hooded eyes.

Letting you do the work. Letting you prove yourself. You straddled his hips, reached down to wrap your hand around the base of him, and whimpered a little at the sheer size.

Still so thick. Still so hot and hard it made your mouth water. You hovered over him, breathing fast. Bo chuckled under his breath.

"What's the matter, sunshine?" he rasped. "You scared now?"

You narrowed your eyes, stubborn, and shook your head.

He smirked.

"That's my girl."

You lined him up again, rubbed the fat head against your soaked folds, and sank down slow.

FUCK.

Your body clenched around him, struggling to take it, as if your pussy just forgot what he felt like. He stretched you so wide it bordered on pain, but it felt so good you couldn't stop.

Bo groaned low when you bottomed out, his hands gripping your thighs so tight you could already feel the bruises blooming.

"Tight fuckin' pussy," he muttered. "Jesus Christ. Fit me like a damn glove."

You whimpered, dizzy with how full you felt.

But he wasn’t satisfied yet. Bo loosened one hand from your thigh, licked his thumb, and reached down, slicking it over your clit with rough, filthy circles.

You jerked, crying out, hips grinding against him without meaning to.

"That's it, pretty girl," he growled. "Show me how bad you want it."

You started to move. Slow at first, rocking your hips back and forth, feeling every thick inch of him drag against your walls.

Bo leaned his head back, eyes fluttering shut, mouth open on a ragged moan.

You rode him harder. Faster. Chasing that hot, electric feeling building low in your belly.

"Boooo." your head tilted back, eyes squeezing shut.

Your hands planted on his chest, fingers digging into the hard muscle, and you used him like he told you to.

"Fuckkk, baby," he grunted. "Look at you. Bouncin' on my cock like you were fuckin' made for it."

You whined, high and broken, but kept going. Kept grinding down on him, riding him so good his thighs flexed under your knees.

At some point, he grabbed your hips and started fucking up into you, meeting your thrusts with brutal, punishing strokes. Had your jaw slack, letting out broken moans.

The slap of skin on skin filled the room. The headboard banged against the wall. You didn’t care.

You chased it, the pleasure, the heat, the way Bo made you feel like nothing else in the whole goddamn world mattered.

You felt yourself getting close again, too fast, overwhelmed but desperate for it.

Bo saw it. Felt the way you started trembling on top of him. He grinned, sharp and feral, and gripped your chin in one hand, forcing you to look down at him.

"You wanna come?" he panted. "Wanna make a mess all over my cock?"

You nodded.

"Please—please, Bo—"

Bo's thumb pressed tight against your clit, cruel and perfect, and he groaned:

"Then fuckin' take it. Show me how bad you need it."

That was it. You shattered again, crying out his name, body locking up around him so tight he cursed under his breath, fucking up into you harder to ride it out.

You collapsed against his chest, shaking. But Bo didn’t let up. Not yet. The man sighed like he was bored.

"Uh uh," he rasped against your hair, wrapping one big arm around your waist, holding you pinned. "Ain't done with you, sweetheart." "Gonna ride me 'til I say we're done."

You whimpered, not from fear, not from pain, but from the raw, burning NEED he dragged out of you.

You wanted it. You wanted him. You nodded into his chest, barely managing a breathless:

"Yes, sir."

Bo chuckled, soft and rough and full of pride.

He grabbed your hips again, started bouncing you up and down on his cock, using your body like his favorite toy.

You moaned, wrecked and shaking but so fucking happy you couldn’t even think straight. You'd give him anything. Everything.

It felt like forever. Bo kept you riding him through two more orgasms, holding you there, stuffed full and gasping, until he finally groaned deep and broken against your neck, hips jerking up hard one last time.

You felt him pulse deep inside you, hot and thick, and you whimpered at the stretch, the heat, the feeling of being so full you could hardly breathe.

Bo slumped back against the pillows, dragging you down with him. Panting. Shaking.

You both laid there, sweaty, trembling, ruined, and he ran a heavy hand up and down your back, soothing you.

"You did so good," he murmured, kissing your hair. "Took every goddamn inch of me like a fuckin' champ."

You smiled against his chest, weak and giddy and so, so full, and whispered:

"Anything for you..."

You laid flat on your back, dazed, the sheets twisted under you. Your thighs still trembled from the way Bo had used you, and you could feel his cum already leaking out of you, sticky and warm between your legs.

You barely had the strength to lift your head.

Bo shifted beside you, big and solid and alive, and you thought maybe he was just gonna pass out too.

Instead, you heard him grunt softly.

"Stay there, baby," he murmured.

You felt the bed dip as he stood up, bare-ass naked, heavy steps toward the bathroom.

You tried to lift your head again, but everything was heavy. You flopped back down, whining a little.

Bo came back a moment later, flushed, eyes dark but soft, holding a warm, damp rag in one hand and a glass of water in the other.

He dropped the rag on the bed for a second, reached out, and brushed your hair back from your sticky forehead.

"Look at you," he said, voice low and rough. "Wore you the fuck out, huh?"

You gave a weak, sleepy nod. Bo only chuckled, not unkind, and leaned down to kiss your temple.

"'S what happens when you ask for all of me, sugar," he whispered.

He crouched down beside the bed, gentle but firm. Picked up the rag. And started cleaning you up. Slow, careful wipes between your thighs, soft shushing sounds when you whined at the oversensitive feeling.

He was so tender you wanted to cry, but not from sadness. From how safe he made you feel.

He cleaned every inch of you, your thighs, your stomach, even the sticky patches on your hip where he'd gripped you too hard, until you were fresh and warm and shivering again for a different reason.

Bo tossed the rag into the laundry basket without even looking. Grabbed the glass of water. Sat on the edge of the bed and slid his big hand under your head, lifting you up against his chest like you weighed nothing.

He pressed the cool glass into your hands.

"Drink, baby," he said — voice brooking no argument.

You blinked blearily up at him, exhausted, limp, but you tried. Took a few weak sips.

Bo watched you, unsmiling now. Patient. Waiting.

When you faltered, your hands shaking, he tsked quietly. Took the glass from you with one hand, tipping it back to your lips.

"Uh uh," he said under his breath. "Told you to drink, sweet girl. Need you hydrated for me, yeah?"

The water spilled against your mouth as he tilted it, not enough to make you choke, but enough that you had no choice but to swallow.

You drank it down in slow gulps, the cold water easing some of the haze in your brain.

Bo murmured soft praise against your hair the whole time:

"There you go." "Good girl."

When the glass was empty, he set it aside.

Held you against his chest for a minute longer, stroking slow, lazy circles on your bare back, before pulling away just enough to look you in the eye.

His hand cupped your jaw, thumb stroking your cheekbone.

"Bathroom now, baby," he said, voice firm but quiet. "I Need you to go pee for me, alright?"

You wrinkled your nose, sleepy and a little embarrassed.

Bo smirked, saw it all over your face.

"Don't get shy on me now," he teased, flicking your forehead.

You grumbled,soft and half-hearted, but you slid out of bed.

Bo watched you the whole way, arms folded behind his head, cocky and content, until you disappeared into the bathroom.

You heard him chuckle low when you slammed the door behind you. When you came back out, legs still wobbly, wearing nothing but his crumpled button-down Bo gave you, he held out one hand.

You crossed the room like you were sleepwalking. Crawled right back into the bed, right back onto him, like you belonged there.

Bo caught you against his chest, kissed the top of your head, and tucked the blankets up around your bare legs.

"Good girl," he murmured again, a low, private sound just for you.

You mumbled something, half a thank you, half a love letter, but it didn’t matter.

Bo already knew.

He kissed you, slow and deep and tender, his hand cradling the back of your head like you were the most precious thing he'd ever touched.

You sighed against his mouth, soft and full, and melted into him like you were made to fit there.

Bo smiled into the kiss.

"Get some sleep, sugar," he whispered, nuzzling your cheek. "Got work to do tomorrow.”

A/N: I was supposed to post this yesterday...sorry

#bo chow oneshot #bo chow smut #bo chow x reader #bo chow #michael b jordan #sinners 2025 #sinners x reader #sinners imagine #sinners smut #sinners #sinners movie #x reader #bo chow imagine #yao

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karmicmortal · 4 months ago

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content warnings perv!jake, slightly younger reader, perving on your friends sister, noncon body pics, recording, somnophilia, male masturbation, facial cumshots, mentions of noncon touching

don’t like it? don’t read it!

notes this drabble was originally posted to istjisung. i am istjisung. if you see my drabbles posted on any account other than istjisung or karmicmortal, or the ao3 accounts of the same name, that is not me.

jake knew he should feel bad. he knew he should feel bad about creeping on one of his friends’ younger sister, but how could he feel bad when you prance around in nothing but an oversized tee or tiny shorts that leave nothing to the imagination? he should be glad that you feel comfortable enough around him to dress comfortably, but he can’t help but sneak glances when you aren’t looking.

however, instead of glances, it’s pictures.

he has perfected the art of taking sneaky pictures of you. when you’re lounging on the sofa, legs bare and inviting, or when you’re bent over in the garden playing with your family’s pet dog, shorts doing nothing to stop the bottoms of your ass cheeks from hanging out.

at first, he would cough to cover up the sound of the camera shutter, and you would turn around and look at him with wide, innocent eyes, asking if he felt sick. he does feel sick—sick in the head. because eventually, taking pictures of you in broad daylight got tiring. they were all the same; low quality, zoomed in photos, and none had your pretty face or tits in them, both of which jake adored and wished he could see more of.

one day, jake snuck into your bedroom during the night as you slept. truly, he was just going to make sure you were asleep before he jerked off in the bathroom, which was close enough to your room that you’d hear if he failed to stay quiet. upon walking in, though, he couldn’t help himself. you were asleep and had tossed and turned, kicking your duvet off of your body, and your pajamas—which looked more like a piece of lingerie—had bunched up at your waist to give jake a full view of your plump ass covered by your panties, and if he looked close enough, he could see the outline of your pussy lips eating the fabric between your legs.

he felt lucky that you were a deep sleeper, otherwise you would’ve woken up when he pulled his phone from his pants pocket to snap a few pictures. he hesitated for a few moments, but against his better judgement, he walks toward you. from this new angle, standing directly above you, jake can see everything. your naked legs, your cute panties, your tits threatening to spill out of your loose top, and your gorgeous face with your lips fixed in a pout.

it was wrong, dirty and disgusting, but he couldn’t stop himself.

with his phone still in his left hand, he presses the button to record a video. the only light in the room was from the moonlight through your window and the hallway light seeping through the crack in the door. he focuses the camera and gets the best angles, getting close ups of all of the areas he’s been aching to see. you startle him when you shift in your sleep, turning over to face your front towards him. luckily, you remained asleep. the movement had jostled you just enough for your breasts to fully spill out, and jake made sure to get a good view of them in his camera.

he fumbles with his pants, pushing them and his underwear down to his thighs. his cock springs out and he immediately takes it into his hand, pumping it slowly. his thick tip was leaking precum and he had the sudden urge to spread it across your lips—an urge he resisted. he couldn’t risk you waking up to his cockhead being on your mouth, as hot as it would be. but he still jerks himself off, making sure to get the right angle to catch when he spills his cum over your lower face and pillow, leaving you to wonder why they’re so sticky when you wake up in the morning.

and maybe, next time, he can touch you, too, if he was sure you’d stay asleep.

#enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen x you #enhypen x reader #jake sim smut #jake smut #sim jaeyun smut #© karmicmortal

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pascalispimp · 5 months ago

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Damp, Dirty, His

Summary: Joel’s been through a lot, but mysteriously damp flannels? That’s a new one. When he sneaks home to investigate, but what he finds is far filthier than he imagined. His housemate’s got a thing for his shirts… and from the way she’s moaning into one, she’s got a thing for him too. And Joel’s got every intention of making it worse.

Warnings: 18+ afab and fem reader, p in v sex, alludes to curvy reader, unspecified age gap, no description of reader but has big boobs and ass, some dubcon but she’s into it, dirty talk, no use of y/n, unsafe sex, oral (m! receiving), fingering, finger sucking, creampie, degradation, praise kink, ass play

Word count: 4.3k

Joel Miller wasn’t a man who jumped to conclusions. He was a man of patience, of careful observation. Years of surviving had drilled that into him. But something wasn’t sitting right.

For the past few weeks, his flannels had been turning up… different. Damp in places they shouldn’t be. Not rain-soaked, not sweat-stained—just wet. He’d pick one up from where he left it, and the fabric would cling to his fingers, the scent of something faint but unmistakable lingering in the fibers. Something warm. Something intimate.

At first, he thought maybe the laundry had been left out too long. Maybe it was just one of those things. But it kept happening. And every time, it was one of his favorites. The ones he wore most. The ones she seemed to watch him in. His housemate.

She wasn’t careless. Wasn’t the type to spill something and not say a word. But Joel had noticed the way she lingered when he pulled on one of those flannels, how her gaze dragged over him, how she hesitated just a little too long when handing one back. He already had a feeling. And today, he was going to confirm it.

So instead of heading out on patrol like he was supposed to, Joel doubled back, moving quiet, careful. The snow crunched beneath his boots, but he knew the sounds of Jackson well enough to weave between them, to slip into his own home without so much as a whisper.

The house was still. The kind of stillness that came with someone who thought they were alone. He gently turned the knob and pushed the door open, the hinges whispering a soft protest. The warmth of the house enveloped him like a lover's embrace. His eyes adjusted to the dim light, and his gaze fell upon a sight that made his blood boil with desire and possessiveness.

And the moment he heard it—soft, breathy, a sound that hit him low in his stomach—he knew.

Her.

His flannel—his—draped over her frame, too big, the sleeves bunched around her wrists, the hem riding up as she moved. She was bent over the kitchen table, the flannel riding up to expose her round, bare ass. The shirt was too large for her, but it clung to her in all the right places, revealing her voluptuous figure, hips rolling into her own hand, her face turned into his shirt like it was the only thing tethering her to this moment.

And Christ, if that wasn’t a sight that damn near knocked the air from his lungs.

Joel exhaled through his nose, slow and deep. He should leave. Should turn around, pretend he hadn’t seen a damn thing.

But instead, he stepped closer, the floorboards groaning a little under his heavy boots. She gasped, spinning around with a start, her cheeks flushing a deep red. The flannel was open, and she had been using his shirt to muffle her moans. The sight of her, so vulnerable and caught in the act, only served to fuel his desire. He set the rifle against the wall, his eyes never leaving hers, and strode purposefully across the room.

"That why my flannels keep turnin’ up damp, darlin’?"

"Joel," she stuttered, her voice a mix of shock and arousal. "I-I can explain."

He didn't wait for her excuses. The sight of her flustered and exposed only added to the power he felt surging through him. "I don't want explanations," he said gruffly, his voice a low rumble. "I want to know why you're using my things for... that."

Her eyes widened, the pupils dilating as she took in the look on his face. It was a mix of anger and something else, something darker and more primal. She could see the tension in his jaw, the way his muscles flexed under his shirt. Joel was never one to mince words, and his directness only served to turn her on even more.

"I-I just..." she stuttered again, trying to find the words, but they were lost in the thick haze of lust that had settled over the room. The flannel fell open further, revealing her naked chest, her nipples hard with arousal. She reached for it instinctively, but Joel's hand shot out, grabbing her wrist and stopping her.

"You like wearing my shirts, huh?" he said, his voice thick with a challenge. "Let's see how you like the real thing."

With that, Joel closed the distance between them, pulling the flannel from her body. She didn't resist, instead letting out a shaky breath as his calloused hands grazed her bare skin. He tossed the fabric aside, his gaze raking over her nakedness. The sight of her made him want to conquer and claim, to show her who was in charge here.

He grabbed the back of her neck, pulling her closer until their lips almost touched. "You're playing with fire, darling," he murmured, his voice a warning and a promise. He felt her pulse racing under his fingers, her body trembling with anticipation.

Their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills, but Joel knew he'd already won. She was his for the taking, and she knew it. With a smirk that barely touched his lips, he claimed her mouth with a bruising kiss. His tongue pushed past her teeth, tasting the sweetness of her mouth as his hands roamed over her curves, leaving goosebumps in their wake. She moaned into the kiss, her body melting into his, and he knew he had her.

Breaking away, Joel stepped back, his eyes never leaving hers. "On your knees," he ordered, his voice low and demanding. She obeyed without hesitation, the submissive side of her bubbling to the surface, eager to please the dominant man before her. He unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, letting them fall to the floor. His erection sprang free, thick and proud, pointing straight at her plump, parted lips.

"Open," he said, and she did, her eyes never leaving his. He took a fistful of her hair, guiding his length into her mouth. She gagged slightly, but took him deeper, her eyes watering with the effort. Joel's hand tightened in her hair, controlling her movements as he began to fuck her face. He watched with a mix of pleasure and possession as she struggled to keep up with his rhythm, her cheeks hollowing with each thrust.

He could feel her submission, the way she eagerly took him in, and it only made him harder. "You like that?" he growled, his voice thick with lust. She nodded, unable to speak around his cock, and he chuckled darkly. "Good girl." He stroked her cheek with his thumb, the gesture oddly tender amidst the aggression.

Joel pulled out of her mouth with a wet pop, his cock glistening with her saliva. "You've been a bad girl, using my things," he said, his voice a teasing purr. "But I'm going to show you how to use them properly." He stepped back, grabbing a chair from the nearby table and spinning it around. He sat down, his erection still standing proud, and gestured for her to straddle him.

With trembling legs, she obeyed, her pussy wet and aching as she settled over his lap. He reached between them, stroking her clit with a rough thumb before plunging two fingers into her heat. She gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as he began to pump them in and out, his eyes never leaving hers. The way he touched her, so rough and yet so precise, made her feel alive, like she was teetering on the edge of a cliff and only he could save her from the fall.

"Beg for it," he demanded, his voice a dark whisper that sent shivers down her spine. She bit her lip, fighting the urge to give in, but the pleasure was too much. "Please, Joel," she whimpered, her voice barely a breath. "Fuck me."

The words hung in the air, heavy with need, and Joel's control snapped like a twig under a boot. He yanked her onto his lap, the chair groaning under their combined weight. He positioned the tip of his cock at her entrance, feeling her wetness and heat against his skin. With a single, powerful thrust, he buried himself inside her, making her cry out.

Her nails dug into his shoulders, her body tightening around him like a vice. Joel's eyes rolled back in his head as he savored the sensation of her warmth. He began to move, his hips rocking into hers, each thrust punctuated by a guttural grunt. She met him stroke for stroke, her breasts bouncing with the rhythm, the friction sending waves of pleasure crashing through her body.

He leaned in, his teeth grazing her earlobe as he whispered filthy words, degrading her in the most delicious way. "That's it, take it," he growled, his breath hot against her skin. "You're such a slut for me, aren't you?" She whimpered, her body responding to his words, her walls clenching around him. He liked it when she played the brat, but now she was all his, all submission.

He could feel her climbing closer to the edge, her breaths coming in ragged pants. He reached up, grabbing one of her breasts, rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The pinch sent a bolt of pleasure through her, making her moan around his cock. He smirked, knowing he had her right where he wanted her.

Joel's other hand slid down to her ass, giving it a firm squeeze before his fingers delved between her cheeks. She gasped as he found her tight hole, teasing it with a single digit. "You're mine," he murmured, pushing into her untouched entrance. "All of you."

The sudden intrusion made her jolt, her eyes flying open. But instead of pulling away, she pushed back into his hand, eager for more. He chuckled darkly, his grip on her hip tightening as he began to fuck her with his finger, the dual sensation making her pussy clench around his cock. "So greedy," he said, his voice a low rumble. "You're going to take everything I give you, aren't you?"

Her only response was a muffled moan, her voice lost in the fabric of his shirt. Joel could feel her orgasm building, her walls fluttering around him like a caged bird desperate to fly. He leaned back, watching her face contort with pleasure, his own climax approaching like a storm on the horizon. His strokes grew faster, his hips snapping into her with a ferocity that left them both gasping for air.

He withdrew his finger from her ass, reaching around to pinch her clit as he fucked her harder. She bucked wildly, her nails raking down his back as the first wave of her climax washed over her. He felt her pussy clench, her juices flooding his cock as she screamed into the fabric of his shirt. The sound sent him over the edge, and with a roar, he emptied himself inside her, filling her to the brim.

Her orgasm was a symphony of sounds, her moans and gasps echoing through the small house. Joel held her hips firmly, ensuring she took every last inch of his release. He watched as she rode the peak of pleasure, her body shaking with the intensity of it all. When she finally collapsed against him, panting and sated, he couldn't help but feel a smug sense of satisfaction.

He kissed her neck, his breath warm and ragged against her skin. "You're mine now," he murmured, his voice thick with possessiveness. "And you're going to wear my cum as a reminder." He felt her shiver in his arms, the dirty talk only serving to excite her further.

Joel's thumb continued to circle her clit lazily, keeping her on the edge. "You liked that, didn't you?" he whispered, his voice a dark promise. "You liked being caught, didn't you?" She nodded, unable to form words, lost in the aftershocks of pleasure.

He pulled out of her with a wet sound, the head of his cock glistening with their combined juices. He stood, lifting her off his lap, and spun her around to face the kitchen counter. "Bend over," he ordered, his voice still commanding. She complied, her knees wobbly from the intense orgasm.

The cool countertop sent a shiver up her spine, and she gripped the edge, her knuckles white with the effort. Joel stepped behind her, his eyes feasting on her reddened, swollen pussy. He grabbed her hips, positioning himself again. With one swift movement, he plunged back into her, making her gasp. He was still hard, still insatiable. He began to fuck her from behind, his thrusts deep and powerful, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing in the room.

Her breasts bounced with each impact, the painful pleasure sending her spiraling back towards the edge. She could feel his grip tighten, his hands leaving bruises on her hips, and she loved it. He was claiming her, marking her as his own, and she reveled in the feeling of submission. She pushed back into him, taking him deeper, her walls clenching around his length.

"You want more?" he growled, his hand reaching around to pinch her clit again. She moaned, the sensation too much, too intense. He chuckled darkly, his teeth grazing her ear. "That's my girl." He pulled almost all the way out before slamming back into her, the suddenness of it making her cry out.

The kitchen counter was slick with their sweat and desire, their bodies moving in a dance of passion and dominance. Joel's hand reached up, wrapping around her neck, his thumb pressing lightly against her throat. The subtle hint of control sent a thrill through her, making her pussy clench around him. She pushed back, eager for the pain, for the feeling of him owning her completely.

He groaned, his hips pistoning into her with renewed vigor. The angle was perfect, hitting her g-spot with every thrust. She could feel another orgasm building, a crescendo of pleasure that threatened to shatter her into a million pieces. "Beg for it," he whispered, his breath hot against her neck. "Tell me you want it, tell me you need it."

Her voice was a desperate whine as she pleaded, "Please, Joel, please let me cum again." He tightened his grip, his thumb pressing slightly harder on her clit. "Not until I say so," he said, his voice a dark command. She whimpered, her body writhing under his control. He knew exactly how to play her, how to tease and taunt until she was begging for release.

He slowed his pace, drawing out each thrust, savoring the feel of her tightness around him. The anticipation was intoxicating, a sweet torment that made his balls ache with need. He watched in the flickering candlelight as her ass cheeks clenched with each movement, her pussy gripping his cock like a vice. The room was a cacophony of their harsh breaths and the wet sounds of their bodies colliding.

"Please," she moaned, her voice desperate. "I need it."

Joel's hand slid from her throat to her clit, his thumb circling it with the perfect amount of pressure. "You're going to come for me," he murmured, his voice a dark promise. "But not yet." He watched her body tense, her muscles tightening around him, desperate for release. The power was intoxicating, the way she trembled under his touch.

He leaned over her, his chest pressing against her back. "You're going to take it all," he breathed into her ear, his voice a seductive growl. "Every inch of me, until I say you can come." She whimpered, her head dropping forward as she tried to push back against him, her hips moving in a silent plea for more.

The room was a blur of sensation, the smell of sex and sweat mixing with the faint scent of burning wood from the fireplace. The candles cast shadows across their bodies, flickering with each thrust. Joel's hand slid down to her ass, his fingers tracing the line between her cheeks before pushing into her again. The feeling of fullness was almost too much, but she craved it, her body begging for the painful pleasure that only he could provide.

"You're so fucking tight," he murmured, his voice strained with his own climax approaching. "I'm going to fill you up until you can't take anymore."

Her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth opening in a silent scream as she felt his thumb push past the tight ring of muscle, invading her ass. The pain was sharp, but it only served to heighten the pleasure. She was lost in a whirlwind of sensations, her body no longer her own as he controlled her every movement. Joel's other hand wrapped around her hip, guiding her to move back onto him, her pussy clenching around his shaft as he pushed deeper into her.

"Look at me," he demanded, his voice harsh. She opened her eyes, her vision swimming with lust. Their gazes locked, the intensity of his stare piercing through the fog of pleasure. "You're going to come for me," he said, his thumb moving in time with his cock, pushing her closer and closer to the precipice. "Now."

Her body obeyed, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave. She screamed his name, her nails digging into the wood as she came apart in his arms. Joel's own climax followed swiftly, his cock pulsing inside her as he filled her up with his seed. He groaned, his hips stuttering as he emptied himself completely.

For a moment, they remained like that, panting and spent. Then Joel pulled out, his cock slipping from her with a wet sound that made her shiver. He stepped back, watching her with hooded eyes as she slowly straightened, her legs shaking. He reached out, tracing the line of her jaw with his thumb, his touch gentle despite the roughness of his hand.

"You're mine now," he said, his voice low and possessive. "Every inch of you." She nodded, her cheeks still flushed, her breaths coming in shallow pants. "Say it," he demanded. "Tell me you're mine."

Her eyes searched his, a mix of shock and awe at the intensity of what had just transpired. "I'm... I'm yours," she finally managed to whisper, the words thick with desire. He leaned in, his mouth claiming hers in a brutal kiss, his tongue demanding entry. She melted into him, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of her climax.

Breaking the kiss, Joel grabbed her chin, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. "And don't you ever forget it," he warned, his voice a low rumble. "You wear my shirts, you take my cum. You're going to be walking around with a constant reminder of who's in charge." He smirked, watching the way her pupils dilated at his words.

Withdrawing his cock from her, Joel reached down, his thumb sliding through their mixed juices, and then back to her pussy. He pushed two fingers inside her, her walls still spasming from the aftershocks of her orgasm. She whimpered, the sensation overwhelmingly intense. He curled his fingers, hitting that spot that made her knees buckle, and began to pump his cum back into her. Her eyes rolled back in her head, her body jolting with each thrust of his digits.

"Look at me," he ordered again, his voice a gravelly whisper. She forced her eyes open, meeting his fiery gaze. "You're going to wear this," he said, pulling his fingers out and holding them up, glistening with their combined release. "Every drop." He brought his hand to her mouth, and she obeyed without question, licking and sucking her taste from his skin. He watched with a dark satisfaction as she swallowed, her eyes never leaving his.

With a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes, Joel leaned in, his breath hot against her cheek. "Now, tell me how much you liked being caught," he said, his voice a sinful purr. She blushed, but the brat in her couldn't resist a little sass. "I liked it," she admitted, her voice a mix of defiance and arousal. "But maybe next time, you could be a bit more... creative with your punishments."

Joel's eyebrow shot up, and he stepped back, his cock still semi-hard and glistening. "Is that a challenge, darling?" He grabbed the flannel she'd been wearing earlier, now discarded on the floor, and wrapped it around her trembling body. "Because I've got plenty of creative ways to keep you in line."

Her heart skipped a beat at the promise in his words. "Maybe," she replied with a smirk, her voice still breathless from her recent climax. "But I'm not promising to be good."

Joel chuckled darkly. "That's what makes it fun," he said, his eyes glinting with amusement. He pulled her closer, his cock brushing against her stomach. She could feel it thickening again, a testament to his insatiable desire. "But for now," he murmured, "we should clean up before I have to be back out on patrol."

The water was cold when Joel turned on the faucet, but it did nothing to cool the heat that still lingered between them. He grabbed a cloth, soaking it before gently cleaning her up. The tender act was a stark contrast to the raw passion they'd just shared, and she found herself leaning into his touch, craving the comfort he offered. When he was done, he tossed the cloth aside and picked her up, carrying her to the bedroom.

He laid her down on the bed, his eyes raking over her naked body. He was still dressed, a stark reminder of the power dynamic they'd just established. "You're going to be the death of me," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. She couldn't help but giggle, the sound light and airy in the tension-filled room.

The bed dipped as he climbed onto it, his weight pressing down on the mattress. He hovered over her, his hand sliding up her thigh, his thumb brushing against her still-sensitive clit. She gasped, her body reacting instantly. He chuckled, the sound dark and seductive. "I can see you're eager for more," he said, his voice a tease.

He leaned down, his mouth capturing hers in a kiss that was both punishing and gentle. His tongue danced with hers, tasting the lingering flavor of their passion. When he pulled away, she was left panting, her eyes glazed with lust. "But I've got patrol," he murmured against her skin, his lips moving to her neck. He bit down, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to make her moan. "You're going to have to wait for it."

Her hands found his shoulders, her nails digging in as she tried to pull him closer. "Please, Joel," she begged, her voice needy and desperate. He chuckled, his teeth grazing her earlobe. "You're insatiable." He kissed her again, his hand sliding down to cup her breast, his thumb teasing the nipple until it was a hard peak. "But I like that about you."

With a final groan of protest, Joel rolled off the bed, his cock still semi-erect. "I'll be back," he said, his voice a promise. "And when I do, you'd better be ready for me." He strode to the bathroom, the muscles in his back flexing with each step. She watched him go, her body still trembling from the aftermath of their encounter.

The cold water from the sink brought Joel back to reality, the chill a stark contrast to the heat of his desire. He washed his hands, taking a deep breath to compose himself. He couldn't believe he'd just taken her like that, in the kitchen of all places. But the sight of her in his flannel, her face flushed with arousal, had driven him over the edge.

Wiping his hands on the towel, he returned to the bedroom, his eyes devouring her again. She lay there, a mess of tangled limbs and desire, the flannel barely covering her curves. He couldn't resist leaning down to kiss her, his hand caressing her cheek. "I'll be back soon," he whispered, his voice hoarse. She nodded, her eyes still glazed with passion.

Joel pulled on his patrol gear, his mind racing with thoughts of her. The way she'd looked at him, the way she'd taken him, it was all he could think about. He had to get out there, had to focus on the job at hand, but she was a siren's call he couldn't ignore.

He stepped out into the cold night, the chill air slapping him in the face, a stark contrast to the heat they'd generated in the kitchen. The patrol was quiet, his mind wandering back to her, to the way her body had responded to his every touch. He found himself smiling, a rare occurrence in this post-apocalyptic world.

Hours ticked by, the moon casting eerie shadows across the deserted town. Joel's thoughts remained fixated on her, his cock twitching at the memory of her moans and whimpers. He'd never felt such a potent mix of lust and tenderness before, and it unnerved him.

When Joel finally returned home, the house was quiet, the only sound the crackling of the dying embers in the fireplace. He shed his gear, stripping down to nothing but his skin, his cock already hard with anticipation. As he padded silently towards the bedroom, his eyes fell on her, sprawled out on the bed, her chest rising and falling with deep, even breaths. She looked so peaceful, so innocent, but Joel knew the fire that burned within her, the desire that she kept hidden.

With a smirk playing on his lips, he stepped into the room, the floorboards creaking beneath his weight. She stirred, her eyes fluttering open to find him standing over her, naked and gleaming with sweat. He leaned down, his hand trailing up her thigh, his breath hot against her ear. "Are you ready for more, darlin'?" he whispered, his voice a dark promise.

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