#holding all of them by the scruff and shaking them

[glazeliights]

I like all of their dynamics ok. peace and love on planet earth

[charliemwrites]

In this 1fur1 au….may I raise you wolf!price? The dog/man basically struts right into your home out of the woods and immediately takes his place as pack leader. It doesn’t matter that you’re supposed to be the one giving orders, price is in charge now.

You want to get off the couch and away from the mass of cuddles? Absolutely not. Price will be giving you a look so domineering you are sitting right back down no questions asked. He has you well trained ;)

The others don’t seem to mind the new addition either, making way for a new top dog. Price is quiet and doesn’t cause trouble, but if you’re late home be prepared to face his doggy wrath

Okay, so I love this concept, but I’m gonna raise you one - and write a new part for it.

(Don’t worry, Gaz is coming soon. This ask just really spoke to me lol).

This is also a part 1 — part 2 coming soon.

Three fuck-off sized wolf dogs is a lot. Like, a lot. There’s the fur, the food, the playtime. And then just the sheer clinginess. You’ve always thought of yourself as a dog person, that they just naturally are drawn to you because you tend to be quiet and respectful of boundaries.

Your boys though. They’re something else. Johnny was the easiest of the three to acclimate to your household. When it was just the two of you, bonding and learning him was easy. Whoever had him first had already done a lot of the work training him. And he naturally seems to like girls better so.

Ghost was more difficult. Clearly some trauma there, and a more wolfy-attitude towards humans. Primarily that he doesn’t seem to understand (or agree with) dumb pet things like harnesses, collars, and about 50% of the commands you give him unless you use your Serious Voice. He’s gotten less stingy with affection as time has gone on and his trust in you has grown.

Helped in part, you think, by learning his personality and behaviors. He’s a creature of strict habit. Likes his routines. Likes his space even more; you’ve always been respectful when he wanders off to another room, or when he climbs off the couch to lay nearby but not with you. You never mind, just call that you love him and leave him be.

Konig has been your biggest challenge so far. A lot of trauma there. And possibly a naturally shy personality; though it’s so hard to tell after everything he’s clearly been through. He’s been improving steadily each day, little by little. He’s sweet as can be, affectionate and snuggly when you manage to get him to join you and the others. The least aggressive with men when you take them for walks.

You’re lucky, the boys are so well-behaved — dislike of men notwithstanding. Scary dog privilege is a true blessing when you live alone, with no close neighbors, and right next to the woods. And they are so ridiculously sweet with you at least.

Still, they can be a lot. Any one of them is nearly the size of you, when all three of them decide to act up, it’s overwhelming.

Johnny will starting howling, pissed that Ghost has pinned him again. Ghost will start barking and grumbling - presumably trying to shut him up. And then Konig will insert himself, whining and tapping his feet, trying to break them up, you think.

Sometimes they’ll knock it off on their own, and Ghost will sneeze, shake off, and everyone will come to sit with you. But sometimes…

“Boys!”

You wade in between them, get a hold of Ghost’s scruff and push him off with your thigh against his muscular shoulder. Nearly trip over Johnny as he tries to scramble up and get at Ghost, crying and growling at the same time somehow. You curse as Konig bumps into you, nearly makes you fall over Ghost, who backs up with his nose scrunched up like he’s gonna bite.

Which is about the time you’ve had enough.

“Boys!” There’s a blessed beat of silence. “Outside, now!”

Johnny charges for the door, barking over his shoulder at ghost, who is quick to follow. Konig is slightly slower, head ducked like he knows he’s being part of the problem.

You groan with relief as they pile outside, all three immediately getting into another tussle. They’ve been keyed up the last three days no matter what you do and today seems to be the day it’s finally boiling over. You just wish it was on a day that the yard isn’t wet with mud.

Well then. You drop onto the porch steps and run your hands down your face, sighing. Best to let them stay out as long as possible — try to make bath time a little easier, at least.

You hear nails on the wood next to you, a little squeak, a snort. Figuring it’s one of the boys, you reach a hand without looking and tangle your fingers in their scruff. Pause because… that does not feel like any of your boys.

No way.

You pick your head up, turn slowly. And yup, there’s a dog you’ve never seen before. Another weird wolf one. Not as big as Konig at least. Closer to Ghost’s size — and actually similar in coloration. Cream and tan, with sharp blue eyes, a funny pattern along his cheeks and jaw that looks a bit like a beard.

“What in the…” you breathe, “is there some kind of doggy magnet on this house or something?”

You creep your fingers up his neck and around to his chin, give him a little scritch before he tilts his head to sniff at your wrist.

“Hi, handsome,” you coo, “oof.”

You hurry to prop yourself up as he shoves his muzzle into your stomach, nuzzling up under your shirt. You squeak at the cold, wet nose on your skin — and then again he licks at your ribs.

“Alright, alright,” you huff, shoving at his chest.

He backs up, though not far, ears perked forward and eyes bright. You stare back at him for a second, then sigh and do your due diligence, searching for a collar or microchip. He waits patiently until you’re done, then stands and shakes himself off.

You arch an eyebrow as he barks twice. All three of your boys stop, heads jerking up and turning to the two of you on the porch. Another bark and your little pack comes trotting back. When Johnny tries to nip at Ghost’s haunch, the new dog rumbles low in his chest. And to your shock, Johnny falls in line and slinks inside.

“Huh,” you say.

The mystery pup sneaks a kiss to your cheek before following the others inside. When you just sit there for a second, staring, he twists to look at your over his shoulder and gives you a little “boof.”

You laugh. “Bossy bastard.” And follow them in.

[ghouljams]

Wait holy shit! Is there a Viking König?!?!?!?! Big Viking man?!?$?!?! With mean little feral darling?!?!?!?! Like darling raised in the wild just picked up by the scruff of their neck by Viking! König and taken aboard his ship after a raid or a supplies venture?!?!?!?!?!? Like “ this small human bit my ankle and I love them now. I shall give them food and warmth In return for companionship!” “Uh König, I’m pretty sure that they might have a disease…” “nonsense they are so cute!”

I was going to say no viking König but you have appealed to my love of insane darlings and equally insane Königs. So I will give him to you.

König who is an absolute terror of a viking, but has always been a little... off. He's just unsettling, cursed by his Jotun blood to never quite fit in with humans. That's what his crew claims at least. They've seen him, when the moon is dark, he becomes something that runs through the woods and kills for fun. Of course he can't disprove this, his mother is human but his father is long dead and, well, you never can tell these things. Maybe he is a frost giant like they say. It doesn't quite matter except that he tastes like the winter snow when you sink your teeth into him.

He growls and kicks you to throw you off of his leg. You land hard and scramble to your feet, keep your body low like an animal as you growl back. He spits something in a language you don't know, so you spit back. You don't like the way his eyes spark, the way he tugs the mask from his face, looking so much more human. You don't buy it, frost giants are known for their tricks. He holds out his hand entreatingly, coos something foreign. You hiss, glare, force yourself back into the thicket. He doesn't like that.

He lunges for you, wrestles your arms behind your back as you attempt to grapple him. You bite his arm hard, taste the iron in his blood, and he takes a shaking breath before pushing his weight onto you. You're forced to your knees, though you struggle to free your arms, wrenching one of them from the socket when he pulls a little too hard. You yelp and still, movement shooting fresh pain through you. He murmurs in your ear, foreign words meant to patronize you. They certainly feel patronizing. Likely the jotun is bragging about how weak you are and how you never could have stood a chance against him. Bastard. You still have his blood on your tongue so you spit one of the curses your sister taught you and let it soak into the dirt.

König hauls your squirmy body up over his shoulder. Can't have his new catch walking around. Feisty little thing, hell of a bite on you. You'd make a decent warrior if you had any thought in your head but blind panic. He drops you in front of the ship's healer to have your arm looked at and you attempt to bite them too. They gag you. Probably for the best with the way you shout having your arm treated. The healer gives König a once over.

"That all from this one?" They ask, motioning to the various bleeding bites on him. He nods, his eyes sparkling excitedly. That never bodes well.

"Ja, courting gifts. Cute little thing, aren't they?" He points at you, tied up and muzzled. The healer gives him a concerned look, and shakes their head. People would really like König a lot more if he didn't do things like this.

[bisayawa]

freckles & blades & helping hands

✎___ husband!diluc × spouse!reader

✎___ a/n: domestic fluff (literally just a soft scene of diluc shaving his scruff), i aged diluc up a bit i think. use of the pet name honey. somewhat inspired by @/mmmairon's art of beefy, gentle, kind diluc :> 730~ words, not proofread; art by ary scheffer.

"do you need any help?"

legs swinging on the counter top, you lean in & stare, eyes glazing over the handsome lines of your husband's face on the mirror. he has a few crow's feet near his temples. whenever you point it out, he'll always say the wrinkles are evidence of you, you who make him smile & laugh & chuckle until his stomach hurts. it's evidence of a life laughter, he'd say.

the sharp stipple of the razor cuts through the silence.

"no, honey," he says, turning his head & angling the blade to the scruff on his jaw. "it's alright."

the words are spoken softly. it was jarring a few years ago, hearing words of buttercream & sweetness come from a man such as diluc, hulking, dignified, broad-shouldered, almost always with a dour expression on his face.

there was a handsomeness to the gloom before. the sharpness of brows, the bite of his frowns, the particular wrinkle when he scrunches his nose... but you have to admit, the allure is multiplied tenfold when he's all honeyed & dewy-eyed, softer than a cloud.

"i could do it for you, you know?"

his eyes never leave the mirror.

"i still don't understand this... fixation you have," he angles his face in an almost-quarter turn. "i'm just shaving, hon. it's no event you have to witness."

"of course, it is." you lean a little closer. "it's like an unveiling. my husband is showing his true face, one without scruff or stubble."

"an unveiling― ?" his shoulders shake & he puts down the razor for a few moments, small bouts of giggles floating through the room.

he rights himself.

"behave. i'm never gonna finished in time." his stern voice is all for show. he's smiling as he says the words.

a beat passes.

"but isn't it though? they'll finally see all your face. happy wrinkles & all."

he's struggling to fix his lip into a line, unable to stop it from curling into a smile. he's repeating your last few words, mouthing them out as he brings down the razor.

the silence after then is sweet, filled with curious looks towards his face filled with foam & other little chuckles.

"so..." your voice cuts through.

"so...?"

"could i do it for you?"

he taps the razor on the marble sink, shucking hair & foam off the blade.

"you don't know how..." another swipe of the razor.

"you could teach me." tap tap.

"i've..." swipe. "already started." tap

"just the basics." swipe. "an impromptu lesson, yeah? against the grain & all that?"

"it's with the grain, honey."

"right, yeah... i knew that... so are you gonna teach me?"

"hm..."

"oh? usually it's a big, disapproving hrrrnn..."

"you've catalogued my grousing?"

"yup yup, because i am a good spouse who tends to the needs of my husband."

he laughs at that, quietly. another wrinkle on his temple.

"alright, alright... here..."

he gives the razor, grasping it in your hand. he's gentle, careful, righting your hold of the blade.

"okay... here's how it should be..." he guides your hand towards his cheek, speaking in soft murmurs. "just like how my father taught me. listen."

he pulls down, a swipe against his face. hair & foam give way for his pale skin.

"there. let the blade do the work, honey. don't push too harshly."

he makes another swipe, his hand still guiding yours.

"here, just like this." swipe swipe swipe. "you wanna try?"

your small palm finds the back of his neck, pulling him close. brows furrow in concentration as the razor anticipates the next swipe.

"careful, honey, okay?" the warmth of his hand leaves. "i trust you."

shaking fingers steel themselves. the blade goes still before landing on the softness of his skin. it coasts across his jaw, cold metal kissing warm flesh. the line is carved against the shaving foam, no longer obscuring his face.

the swipe is finished. the trust was not betrayed. the result of your work is there upon the blade, as patches of coarse hair & crisp shaving foam.

"how was that?" you murmur.

"wonderful." he's staring into your eyes, not at the razor like you expected. "would you like to keep going?"

"yes, please." you poke at his newly shaven jaw. "i've never noticed your little freckle here."

"i have a few." he pinches your nose. "let's keep going. maybe we can find a few more."

[thetriumphantpanda]

Beggin' For It | Joel Miller

The Checklist - Orgasm Denial

Chapter Summary | Your new boyfriend Joel, in the process of helping you pack up your apartment, finds your stash of porn, full of all the things you've been scared of asking for. He surprises you by offering to help you tick them off, starting by denying you the thing you always love the most.

Chapter Warnings | This is basically porn without plot. Explicit smut, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, unprotected PiV sex, talk of contraceptives, orgasm denial, creampie, dirty talk, pet names (baby), hair pulling, established relationship, No Outbreak AU, No Use of Y/N.

Word Count | 3.7k

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

Authors Note | Well here we go, the Joel Miller Kink extravaganza. I had SO much fun writing this and putting this together so I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I love writing it! If you do enjoy this, reblogs and comments are always appreciated, and if you'd like to support me further, you can donate to my Ko-Fi.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi.

Your face is burning hot, and your stomach is in knots of anxiety as you stand in the doorway to your room, two glasses of water in hand, watching Joel, who is sat on your bed with a spread of magazine’s spread out across the duvet. Those fucking magazines, stored carefully in the bottom drawer of your bedside table. Some are straight up pornographic, plucked from the top shelf of the store, paid for and shoved into the depths of your bag before anyone apart from you and the cashier knew what it was. Others are those silly gossip magazines, Cosmopolitan mainly, pages folded in all of them of the pictures you like the most, the ones that help you get off the quickest, the things you want to try the most. And they’re all spread out for him to see. 

“W-where did you f-find those?” You choke out, swallowing thickly, hands gripping the two glasses so hard you’re surprised they don’t shatter. 

Joel shrugs, “You asked me to start packing the stuff from the drawers into boxes,” He says, because you did, your apartment in disarray as you’re packing up to move into his home, “I opened the drawer and found them.” 

Joel was never planned. You’d been more than happy on your own. When you met him, on a random Sunday morning, you’d been out of your last relationship for almost a year. You’d been staring at different types of nails at the hardware store, cursing yourself that you hadn’t thought to research what the best nails for hanging pictures up would be, when his Southern drawl had pricked your ears. 

“Need any help, miss?” 

You’d turned, taken a step back because he was taller than you, broad, and definitely older too. Grey scruff peppered along his jaw, some in his hair too, and big brown eyes that screamed kindness at you. He was the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen. 

“Huh?” Was all you could manage to let out, cursing yourself for seeming like the typical dumb woman at the hardware store. 

“Been milling around gettin’ some stuff and you’ve been starin’ at that wall’a nails for a while,” He chuckles, stepping forward so he’s next to you, “What d’ya need ‘em for?” 

“Oh,” You breathe, he smells good too, woodsy and masculine, “I’m wanting to hang some pictures on my walls.” 

He hums in understanding, reaching over to grab a pack of nails that are miles longer than the ones you would have chosen. He holds them out to you, which you take, fingertips brushing against his as you do, “Thanks,” You smile at him, “I would never have chosen these ones.” 

“You got everythin’ you need to hang them?” He asks, “Tools and stuff?” 

You shrug this time, “I’ve got a hammer, is that going to do it?” 

The look in his eyes is akin to what you imagine someone would look like if you’d just kicked a dog in front of them, he shakes his head and reaches into his pocket, pulling out his wallet and then hands you card that he pulls out. You take it, the words ‘Miller Contracting’ and a phone number underneath it. 

“Usually, I’m more of a building from scratch guy, but you can’t hammer these nails into a wall, so give me a call and I can come and hang your pictures for you.” 

So, you do. Late that evening, you call him, tell him you’ve got the weekend free, and you’d like to get your pictures hung. He comes over, you watch him closely as he hangs them perfectly on your wall. You make him dinner as a thank-you, considering he won’t let you pay him, and then after two beers, you let him fuck you on your couch. It’s not usually your style, but nine months later, it seems to have worked, considering he’s moving you into his house. 

Like most things that had to do with your life and Joel, moving in this early had never been planned either. Sarah, his daughter, who you’d met multiple times, had her own life, her own home, and the lease to your apartment in the city was ending early. Something to do with the landlord wanting to completely redecorate. Joel had offered his place to you, which made sense, considering you spent most of your time at his anyway. So, you’d emailed your landlord, told him you’d be out by the end of the month, and were now packing up everything you owned to move into Joel’s place. Start a new life. 

“Don’t be embarrassed, baby,” He coos, “Some interesting stuff here.” He muses, reaching over to pick up a copy of one of the more explicit magazines, opening it on a page that’s got the corner folded over, the picture is a woman, bent over on her knees with her hands spreading the cheeks of her ass, an anonymous man pounding his cock into her, a look of ecstasy on her face. 

You can’t bare it anymore, so you put the glasses down on chest of drawers and made a beeline to snatch it out of his hand, “Now, hold your horses, baby,” He teases, managing to grab your waist to catch you off balance, pulling you onto his lap where you straddle him, the other hand holding the magazine out of your reach, “What do the folded pages mean?” 

You groan, letting your forehead fall onto his shoulder, grumbling incoherently into him in the hopes he drops the subject, but this is Joel, and you should have known better. He pushes his shoulder forward, forcing your head up, “I didn’t quite hear you, baby?” 

Dick, is what you think, “They’re things I like,” You mumble, “Think that get me off.” 

He turns his head towards the bed with a smirk, “Lots of folded pages, baby,” He teases, Joel lets the magazine in his hand drop to the bed, gripping your waist in both hands, “Don’t need to be shy baby, nothin’ wrong with any of it.” 

It’s not really that you’re embarrassed by what’s in the magazines, it’s more the fact that even though you and Joel have an extremely healthy sex life, not one you would necessarily call vanilla, but certainly not kinky, there were things you were scared of asking for. There was a mental list of things you’d read about in the advice columns of Cosmo, pictures you’d seen in the other magazines, that you were dying to try, but how do you bring up to your boyfriend of not even a year, that you want him to bend you over and stuff his cock into your ass? 

Joel brings a hand up to your face, cups your cheek and brushes the skin there with his thumb, “Why don’t you show me something you want to try?” He coaxes gently, his brown eyes meeting your own. 

Your eyes go wide. You had always been worried of asking for these things, worried it would scare him off, or that he just didn’t want to branch out into anything too kinky, but here he is, offering to help make your fantasies come true, “Go on.” He taps at your sides. 

You lean over, grab one of the issues of Cosmo and flick through it to the page with the folded corner right at the back. You pass it to Joel, who takes it, letting his eyes flick to the column of sex advice. He clears his throat and starts reading with you still perched on his lap. 

“Dear Angela,” he reads in his Southern drawl, “I’ve been with my fiancé for over five years now. We’re very happy and our wedding is in a year’s time, but I’m struggling to connect with him sexually now. I think the problem is that he’s too nice. Outside of the bedroom, this is wonderful, but do you have any advice on how we might be able to spice things up with our sex life?” He then clears his throat again before launching into ‘Angela’s’ response, “Dear reader, this is something I deal with often. You’re happy with everything but the sex, but don’t lose hope because this is fixable. If you want him to get a little mean with you, nothing says that like denying you the big one, the final ‘O’ if you will. Talk to him, tell him it’s something you want, and have fun!” 

You’re looking at his face as he ponders what that means. He’s putting the magazine down on the bed, bringing his hands back to your hips, looking into your eyes, “Am I too nice to you, baby?” He coos, “Need me to be a little mean t’ya?” 

His voice flashes straight down to your cunt. You wriggle in his lap, the seam of your jeans rubbing along the bulge that is prominent in his own lap. He holds you still, fingers pressing into your hips, “I don’t think so baby, tryin’ to get yourself off like that.” 

You groan a little as he lifts you off his lap, spreads you out on the mattress. You open your legs for him, let him settle his hips between yours, grinding his hips as he presses his mouth to yours. You can feel his chest pressed against your own, the entire weight of him smothering your body, his hands smoothing your hair from your forehead as you open your mouth for him, letting him lick into your mouth, tasting him as your tongue works against his. 

You buck your hips up into his own, your hands coming down to slip into the back pockets of his jeans, pulling his hips forward so you’re grinding together through your clothes, something skin to how you used to behave as a horny teenager. 

“You feelin’ needy, baby?” He whispers into your ear, teeth nipping at your earlobe as he does. 

You don’t want to admit that you are, mainly because you know he’s not going to fix the problem. You’ve asked for him to be mean to you, asked him to do nothing but use you and your body for his own pleasure and leave you wanted more, so you just let out a breathy moan, which makes him chuckle, makes him grind his hips into yours again before he pushes himself back on his knees, dragging you up with him so he can pull your t-shirt off your body. 

He pushes you gently back down onto the mattress, drags those big palms of his down your sides until he reaches the waist of your jeans. He pops the button, drags the zipper down and moves his body just enough so he can peel the material down your thighs and off your body, throwing them behind him to be forgotten now. Joel leaves your bra on, but drags your pantie down your legs, pushing your thighs apart so you’re bared to him, no doubt slick and shiny for him. 

Joel stands from the bed, drops to his knees and starts pressing warm, wet kissed to the insides of your thighs. Up the left side, down the right, but never right where you want it. He teases you slowly, like he’s got all the time in the world, and in moments like this you’re always in awe of how patient he is, always willing to defer his own gratification in place of getting you off first and, more often than not, multiple times, before he even thinks of sinking himself into you. 

His face finally makes its way to settle where you always love having it, right at the apex of your thighs, where you’re already wet with want for him. You can feel his hot breath skittering across your skin so, although you didn’t think it physically possible, you spread your legs wider, showing him your glistening, slick cunt. His fingers press into your thighs as his mouth presses a single, chaste kiss right to your clit. You breathe out in pleasure, letting yourself relax a little as you feel his tongue move slowly through your folds, moving from your entrance where your slick is pooling, just for him, all the way up to your clit. He teases you a little at first, small little kitten licks placed ever-so-gently to your clit. He knows this is what you like, when he takes his time to work you up to the edge. The edge you have to continually remind yourself you’re not going to get the opportunity to push yourself over. 

He pulls his mouth off you when you start moving your hips in time to his mouth, his palm pressing down on your belly to keep you still, “This ain’t for you,” He reminds, nipping at the delicate skin of your thighs with his teeth, “Just makin’ sure you can take me.” 

He sinks two fingers into you, curling them up just right, your back arching up off the bed to grind up into his palm as he works you open for him. It doesn’t last nearly long enough, much like with his mouth earlier. Normally he’d make you come on his tongue, then sink those fingers into you and make you come again, but he’s pulling them from your pussy, looking you dead in the eye as he presses his fingers onto your tongue. You clamp your mouth around them, licking your slick from his fingers, rolling your tongue over them in the same way you know he loves on his cock, your eyes training directly on his with no shame as you pull off them with a ‘pop’. You giggle slightly, biting at your bottom lip as Joel leans down to kiss you, tasting you on your own mouth, tasting yourself still lingering on his tongue. 

“Taste good, don’tcha baby?” He smirks, pushing you back, watching you intently as he strips himself of his clothes. 

You don’t think you’ll ever quite get over how beautiful a man he is when he stands in front of you naked. Defined and muscular at his chest, with those big arms that wrap around you, his belly, spattered with hair trailing all the way down until you get to his cock, hard, almost painfully so at this point. His strong thighs that you love to nestle yourself between at night. He is truly a spectacle and it’s moments like this that you still don’t quite believe he’s yours. 

He settles back on the bed, between your thighs, your hands grip at those broad shoulders as he reaches between the two of you, fisting the base of his cock, moving his hips slowly so his cock drags through your slick folds, the bulbous head nudging at your clit as he fists himself, spreading your wet along his length. You feel him settle himself at your entrance, pushing his hips forward just enough to give you just the tip. His nose runs along your jawline, kisses from his mouth trailing just behind, as he rocks his hips into your own, but only ever enough that it’s just the tip of his cock inside. 

“Beg for it baby,” He breathes into your skin, “You want my cock?” 

“Want it so bad, Joel,” You whine, moving your hips into his to try and take him deeper, but he’s gripping your thigh, warning you not to push it, “Please, Joel, please fuck me.” 

“Beggin’ for it even though you ain’t gonna come?” He teases, one hand moving up to your chest to pull the cups of your bra down, fingers taking your nipple and rolling. 

“Wanna feel you.” You say, burying your head into his neck, pressing your own kisses to his skin. 

Joel seems to find that satisfactory, slowly pushing himself all the way into you, dragging himself all the way out again. He leans back a bit, gripping you behind your knees to press your thighs as far into your chest as he can get them. Then he really does fuck you. He’s big, and although you know you can take him, it’s always a shock to you that it’s so easy. That he can pound into you with the ferocity he currently is, tip of his cock brushing against your cervix in that perfect mix of pleasure and pain. 

“Awful quiet baby,” He gasps out, watching you bite at your bottom lip, “Don’t like it when you don’t get to feel good?” 

You shake your head, Joel dragging himself all the way out of your aching cunt, flipping you over onto your belly. He presses his palm into the back of your neck, keeping your lower half pressed to the bed, whilst his other hand drags you up onto your knees, ass in the air for him as he guides his cock right back to you, thrusting back in all the way. You always loved it when Joel fucked you like this. The angle always managing to feel just perfect as he fucks you. 

The only sound in the room is that of your combined moans, little grunts from him and whines from your mouth, and the sound of his hips hitting yours, sweaty skin against sweaty skin. You’re starting to regret asking for this, because God it would be so easy for him to reach round, press his fingers to your clit and tip you over the edge in seconds. If it wasn’t for the way his hand was pressing at the nape of your neck, you could do it yourself, so desperate to feel the euphoria of coming undone around him. 

Joel’s thrusts are getting more frantic, even though it’s only been nine months of you together, you know he’s not going to last much longer. He slides his hand down and into the hair on the back of your head, gripping it tightly in his fist to drag your head up and out of the material of the bed. The sounds of yours once muffled by the duvet under you now let loose into the room, echoing around the walls and doing nothing but egging him on, getting him closer to the finish line. 

“You like this, huh?” He asks you from behind, “Like getting’ used, baby?” 

“Yes Joel,” Because you do, despite knowing you don’t get to finish, something about him being selfish with you, using you just get himself off, makes you unbelievably wet, “Still feels good.” 

You can hear him chuckle, fingers of his other hand gripping so hard to your hip that you’re sure he’s going to bruise you there. You don’t mind, not really, you love carrying him around with you like that. Secret marks on your skin, evidence that you’re his that only you know, only you can see, apart from when he bites at your neck, claiming you in front of everyone. 

“I’m close baby,” You can hear from behind you, the grip his hand has in your hair arching your back perfectly, angling him just so that if he just carried on like this for a few minutes you think he could make you come just like this, “You want it inside?” He asks, “Want me to fill you up?” 

This was new between the two of you, still exciting. After months of using condoms, never once a complaint from Joel, you’d held up the tiny packet of pills, the ones you’d been taking for a week in secret. Asked him to fuck you bare, fill you up with every drop if his cum, and the two of you were struggling to find a way of finishing that you enjoyed more than this. 

“Please,” You beg, whimpering as he gives another tug to your hair, pulling you back into him even further, “Please Joel.” 

“Ain’t no need for beggin’ now baby,” He groans thickly behind you, “Nowhere else I’d rather be.” 

You feel his hips slam into the plush of your ass a few more times before he goes still, groaning deep from his chest as you feel the warmth of his cum spread through your cunt. You can feel your own walls fluttering around him, taking his spend as deep as you can whilst trying to catch your breath. 

Fuck. You can hear him sucking in ragged breaths from behind you, hands still gripping your hips as he pulls himself from you. You whine at the loss of him, push your hips back trying to coax him into giving you what you want. God, this was such a stupid thing to want. Why would you want Joel to deny you the very thing he’d proved over and over again was the one thing he would give you without question? You’re desperate, and it wouldn’t take much, he’d have you screaming his name in less than a minute. 

“Please Joel,” You beg, “Please baby.” 

“What’s that?” He asks from behind, you can feel his chest lay across your back, pushing you down into the mattress, his cock still semi-hard against the cheeks of your ass, “You beggin’ for it, baby?” 

“Make me come.” You demand, like a little brat. 

“Awww baby,” He coos into your ear, hand coming to grip the back of your neck, “I’m such a mean man, aren’t I?” You nod your head, hoping it shakes his resolve, “Leaving you all wet and needy.” His teeth nip at your jaw, he pushes himself off you and then completely off the bed. 

You turn onto your back, watching as he picks up his clothes to get dressed. Why did you ask for this? You spread your legs, finger dipping down inside your pussy, dragging out the mix of slick and his spend to drag up to your clit. It wouldn’t take very long, already so worked up and sensitive, but he catches you before you can get there, hands tearing your own away from you. 

“Don’t be naughty,” Joel chastises, tugging on your wrist to get you to sit at the edge of the bed, he gets on his knees, loops your panties right over your ankles and drags them up, “Stand up,” You want to complain, but you do it anyway, hands on his shoulders to steady yourself as he drags your panties all the way up, pressing a kiss right where the waistband sits, “Be a good girl for the rest of the day and I promise I’ll make you come however you want later, okay?” 

It should embarrass you how quickly you nod your head, how your voice promises him you’ll be good for him. He kisses your forehead, helps you put the rest of your clothes on, passes you the glass of water you’d forgotten about earlier. 

“Come on,” He says, “Plenty more boxes to pack up.” 

[rosepascal]

Hustle || Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Joel Miller is a great pool player but he's got a weakness, he's a man. Which makes him the perfect target. But lets just say Joel doesn't take kindly to being hustled.

Warnings: NSFW, MINORS DNI, fem!reader, rough sex, bathroom bar sex, fingering, spanking, dirty talk, Joel is a little mean, degradation, mirror sex, light choking, brat taming, creampie, unprotected sex but readers on the pill.

A/n: I finally got actual motivation to write Joel smut so i hope u enjoy <33 Reader is a pool shark and idk why but the idea of joel playing pool is so hot.

Joel Miller doesn't lose. Especially at pool. His dad taught him at an early age how to play and he would spend hours playing against Tommy in the garage. Once Tommy got sick of losing he ended up playing with friends.

Making a few bets and cleaned them out and continued in college. He doesn't play as much anymore but the skills never went away. He's confident, maybe a little cocky but he's got history to back it up. So when he has a pretty girl batting her eyes and asking him shyly for help, well he couldn't say no now could he.

You spotted him the moment you walked into the bar. He stood with confidence, drinking straight whiskey and barely saying a word as he played. You watched him for a while. He was good, but you're better. You watched as he sunk the 8 ball and smirked as his opponent handed him a fifty. Guys like him were the perfect target.

Put on a cute face, pretend to be bad and in desperate need of a mans help, then milk him for all he's got in his wallet. Flirting with him will be easy, he was undeniably sexy. The way his arms bulged out of his shirt, and that scruff, and fuck those hands.

You walk over to his now empty table, pulling down your dress a little lower and putting on your best innocent look. He watches as you walk over to him, a pretty thing looking out of place in this shitty bar like this.

"You're really good," You rest your hand on his arm and smile.

"Do you think you could show me how to play? I've always wanted to learn." Joel's eyes wander down and he smirks. You've got him hooked.

"Course I can sugar. Name's Joel." Joel downs his drink and gestures for you to play.

You put on a fake frown and bend over the table right next to Joel. Holding the cue stick wrong and aiming to the wrong spot you pull it back and miss wildly. Huffing you turn back to Joel who was shamelessly staring at your ass.

"See." Joel chuckles and walks over to you.

"Gotta hold it like this." You bend over and shake your ass a little to "reposition" as Joel grabs your hips.

"That's good, now hold it like this." He leans over you, wrapping his arms around you to help your grip. You pull back the stick and hit the ball.

"I did it!" You cheer. You lean back against him. You bite your lip when you feel his hard cock rubbing against your ass. His arms rub up and down yours.

"Good girl." Joel isn't like the other guys you've met before. His touch doesn't make you want to vomit, he's hot, and you have to admit that the flirting isn't all fake. After a few more shots and asking him to explain the rules, you offer to play a game.

"You sure?" Joel asks.

"Please? I think I'm really getting the hang of it. We can even put money on it, say 15 bucks?" Joel feels bad knowing it's not going to end well for you but he can't say no when you're pleading so sweet.

"Alright then, ladies first." You lean over the table and take your shot. As he expected Joel won pretty handily. He laughs as you pout and hand over the money.

"You did good honey,"

"How about another one?" You ask and he shakes his head.

"Just one more, we can up the stakes too." You place your hand on his chest.

"Say a hundred?"

"That's quite a jump." He crosses his arms and your eyes flick down to his forearms for just a moment.

"You scared Joel?" You ask teasingly.

"Alright honey, if that's what you want." He leans closer to you, pushing you gently against the table and tilts your chin to meet his eyes.

"You can go first." Joel smirks and takes his shot.

The balls scatter across the table. He gestures for you to go and you smile at him sweetly. Leaning over the table you sink a ball into a pocket with expert aim.

"Lucky shot I guess."

As the game goes on Joel's smile disappears. You are much better than you let on and as you sink yet another ball, he realizes he's getting played. You drop the innocent act when Joel manages to sink two balls in a row.

"Nice shot." He's face remains stoic as you play, his gaze makes you shiver. Soon it's down to the 8 ball for you. You call the back right pocket and take your shot. When it rolls in and falls into the hole you stand up and smile.

"Good game Joel," Joel stays quiet.

He's been hustled. He fell for your sweet talking and innocent act and now he's out 100 dollars. To be honest he's impressed. You got skill for sure. But Joel doesn't like being hustled. To him, you need to be taught a little respect.

At first you're nervous he's angry, some guys do not react well to losing. But then he smirks. He takes out his wallet and hands you a hundred.

"Good game sweetheart I'm impressed. Now tell me," He walks closer to you, leaning over until his lips are right next to your ear.

"You always been such a slut?" You know you should be offended but the way he whispers in your ear, it makes your thighs clench together.

"I'm not a slut, you're just a loser." You bite back. He chuckles and places his hand on your back.

"No? Tellin' me you don't go to bars, dressing like a slut and flirting with any man who'll give you the time of day?" You rest your hands on his chest and run them up and down. His chest is firm but he's got a tummy, fuck you wonder what he looks like without his shirt.

"Sounds to me like you're ego is a little bruised, I'm not surprised. Guys like you have such a big ego and..." Your eyes flick down to his crotch for a moment before looking back to him. "So little to back it up." You fake pout and run your finger down your face to mimic a tear.

"Oh honey, I'm not little." He growls. How bout we play another, double or nothing." You smirk and push him away gently. He walks back and notices the glint of lust in your eyes.

"Bring it."

Now the two of you were really playing, both of you focused on beating the other. It felt intense, especially when Joel insisted on staring you down as you took your shots. He's proving to be the most interesting man you've ever played. You watch his hands as they wrap around the cue stick. His fingers are so big. His muscles bulge in his shirt as he lines up his shot and he doesn't realize it but when he licks his lips as he thinks is so fucking hot.

Still, you're determined to win. The game goes on until its down to just the 8 ball for the both of you. You call the center pocket and take your shot. You silently curse as you hit the cue ball in the wrong spot. You watch as the 8 ball misses and you curse. The cue ball rolls and rolls and you watch it fall into the center pocket. With a groan you realize that Joel has won over a stupid mistake. You pull out the money and hold it out for him to take. He pushes your hand away and presses your hips against the table.

"Don't care about the money, I have something much more interesting in mind." His hands grab your waist and pull you into him. You whimper as he grinds his hips slowly against you. He really isn't little.

"You can walk out that door right now, keep the money I don't give a shit. Or you can get taught some fucking respect." He's giving you an out. He watches your face for any signs of uncertainty but you show none. You stuff the money in your bra and smile.

"I think you're all talk." You pull on his shirt until your faces are centimeters away.

Your lips ghost his jaw, nipping lightly as he closes his eyes and groans. He grabs your wrist and pulls you away from the table and to the dark dingy bathrooms. He opens it and shoves you in. Locking it behind him.

"Last change honey," You bunch up your dress and pull down your panties, kicking them over to Joel who catches them. A dark look in his eyes.

"Turn around and bend over the sink, now." He commands. You do as he says but not without a little teasing. Shaking your ass at him. He stuffs your panties in his pocket and stalks over to you.

"Brats like you need to be taught a lesson." He pushes up your dress and grabs your ass.

"So you're an ass-" Your snarky comment is cut off by a sharp slap to your ass. You squeak as Joel spanks you. He sees your shocked look in the mirror and laughs.

"No ones ever put you in your place before have they?" You moan when he slaps your ass again, and again, and again. It hurts so fucking good. He doesn't hold back and you love every second of it. He shoves his fingers in between your legs, groaning at how wet you've become.

"Not a slut my ass." He mumbles as he slides two fingers deep inside of you. You whine as he fucks his fingers roughly, curling them so they hit the right spot.

"You like getting put in your place huh? Your greedy pussy is just sucking them right in."

"Oh fuck Joel, feels so good." You arch your back in pleasure, purring in delight at his dirty words.

"Say it," He grabs your throat and pulls you against his chest. Just enough pressure to make your head feel fuzzy.

"I-fuck, I'm a slut." He grins and presses his lips to your shoulder, your dress strap is sliding off your shoulder and Joel kisses where it was.

"So fucking hot," He groans. His fingers are unrelenting, you cry out as his thumb brushes your clit. The combination of his fingers and his thumb are too much for you to handle. He refuses to let up. Taking pleasure in every little sound that comes out of your mouth. The wild look in your eyes as he brings you to the edge.

"Be a good girl for once in your fuckin' life." If it wasn't for his grip on you, you'd be melting into a puddle right before him. Your legs shake violently as you come hard on his fingers. Your cunt clenches around them as Joel continues to fuck you.

"That's it," He gently lets go of your throat and you collapse onto the counter. Pleasure lingers as you catch your breath, your chest heaving up and down. You hear the sounds of a belt buckle and you see Joel drop his pants. He's stroking his cock slowly.

"I'm on the pill." You blurt out. Joel looks surprised but happy. Getting to fuck you raw is a dream come true.

"Keep your eyes on the mirror." You nod your head and turn your head back to the mirror. He pushes his cock through your thighs, getting it wet before he notches it at your cunt.

"Breathe honey," Your mouth hangs open as he slides in slowly.

"So tight." He huffs. He's so fucking big, it's like his splitting you open. He doesn't stop, he just keeps on going and going and it's taking your breath away.

"Feel good?" Joel taunts. He waits for a response but you're too focused on his cock inside of you to even hear what he said. Joel leans over you, pressing his chest into your back and wrapping his hand around your throat.

"Is a fat cock all it takes to shut you up?" He taps your cheek gently.

"Shut up and fuck me." You murmur.

"As you wish honey." He pulls back before slamming in.

He holds you in place as he plows into you. His cock etching its place in your cunt, claiming you as his with every thrust. You stare lazily into the mirror, you body still hasn't recovered from earlier and Joel isn't giving you any mercy. His brows are furrowed in an intense concentration as he pounds into you, using you like a toy.

"You're suckin' me in sweetheart, tell me do you like getting used like this?" Joel teases.

"I think you do, I think you fuck around with guys and hope one of them will finally put you in your place." He bucks his hips particularly hard which makes you groan.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you. Stick a cock in you whenever you want." He lets go of you and stands up, pushing your shoulders into the counter as his thrusts become sloppier. He begins to lose focus, you just feels so good, so wet, so tight. Just begging to be filled up with his cum.

"Can I come in you, please-fuck." Joel begs. The thought of you dripping with his cum is too much for him to take.

"Yes! Please fuck I want it so bad." You wail as he grabs your hips and pulls you back onto him, fucking you wildly.

"Yes yes." Joel chants as he slams his cock deep inside of you, spilling into you with a tired sigh. He grabs your waist and helps you turn and sit on the counter so you can catch your breath.

"Fuck." You breathe as you pull your dress down.

"You finally learn some manners." Joel walks in between your legs, rubbing your thighs softly.

"I don't know, might need another lesson."

"I think I can do that, how about this friday." Joel asks.

"Pick me up at 7pm." You tell him. Joel smirks and lightly slaps your thigh.

"Oh and I'll take this back." He reaches into your bra and takes the hundred.

"Can I have those back?" You point to your panties hanging out of his pocket. Joel looks down at them and smirks.

"Lets play for it." Smiling you hop off the counter and head for the door.

"You're on."

[akkpipitphattana]

girl help i can’t stop thinking about some thai teens with superpowers

[toxicanonymity]

stop playing

3.8k, (dark) slasher!Joel x f!reader

Ty @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog for the slasher joel edit and movie poster. And @iamasaddie for the big girthy wrench and the mood board on the master list.

slasher Joel master list | spotify playlist

SUMMARY: Joel fixes and returns your car, pays you a visit, and stuffs you full of his cock and more. WARNINGS: I8+ unsafe dubcon P in V, creampie, m masturbation, crude language and degradation, knifeplay, superficial injury (cut), incidental pussy slap, fisting (be the change you want to see in the world), penetration with wrench A/N:  If something sounds unappealing to you, please quietly skip the fic. This blog is kink-positive. Comments that could have a kink shaming effect may be removed, regardless of intent. Asks: @xdaddysprincessxx and 🔧 anon, ty

“Not here to make love to ya, sweetheart.” His cock twitches against your hand. ”That what ya want?” You can hear the smile in his voice.

You shake your head no, catching his scruff against your cheek. “want ya to fuck me.” 

He chuckles, then puts on an air of sympathy. “Shame. . .that’d be nice. . .” His breath hot on your ear. “Shouldn’t’a left me.”  You try to move and he pins you by your wrists.

------------

Joel is in his garage, under your car, finishing up.  Yeah, he didn’t just tow it, he fixed it.  Bet you're an ungrateful bitch about it. You're a brat, but god damn, you can take a dick. He’s never had anyone sink right down and ride him like that.  He vividly recalls the sensation of being swallowed up.  As blood rushes south, his cock strains his jumpsuit, still crusty with your combined juices. Every time he sees or smells it he thinks of how it all leaked out of your used up hole. He wipes his bicep on his forehead, then palms his growing bulge.  He manages to ignore it while he finishes the repair, then rolls out from under your car. 

He sits up on the roller, holding his big, heavy wrench against his thigh. He looks down at his arousal. He wonders if he's getting a beer belly as he sucks in his stomach to better see his engorged bulge.  He unzips his jumpsuit all the way and pulls his T-shirt out from sticking under his pecs. Then he stands up with a groan and adjusts himself. 

He sets his wrench aside and goes to the dingy old bathroom. His mom tried to make it nice, so there's soap and lotion and a little candle, but it hasn't been cleaned in forever. In the filthy mirror, he has motor oil all over his hands, and some on the side of his face. He takes his sleeves off and presses the hardness in his jumpsuit against the low sink as he washes up, then he takes his cock out and holds it in his hand. It's so fat he can barely get his own massive hand around it if he squeezes. You took it like a cock taking queen. He imagines that's what you are as he pumps the lotion into his hand. 

He begins to stroke his raging erection and stares at himself in the mirror as he does it. The mirror lets him see a lot. His jumpsuit is hanging down, mostly out of the picture, the hems of his sleeves skimming the nasty floor as he strokes his cock. His hair is messed up.  He rakes his free hand back through it. His forehead is sweating again as he runs his fist up and down his length. Cheeks are flushed, lips slightly parted, head tilted back as he's beginning to grunt softly with the stroke of his hand. His white t-shirt, stained with oil, stretches over his strong chest and little belly with a little dip of looser fabric in between, under his pecs. His sleeves barely contain his arms and his forearm flexes as he jerks it. 

With his other hand, he takes his boxers under his massive balls so he can see those too. He tilts his head down, casting a shadow over his eyes, mouth hanging open, breathing heavily. He wets his lips and moans approaching the finish. He looks at his cock in the mirror and pictures you sucking his balls. Nasty little sex kitten sucking them so good. For a moment, picturing you between his knees, he feels like you want him. . . until his thoughts are jolted back to how you left him.  His jaw clenches and he wonders what to do with you. When you're only good for one thing, you better be real good at it. Cunt. He jerks himself thinking about how you probably take so many cocks. He wonders how much you could take. 

He takes a deep breath, his cock twitches in his hand, and he groans as he cums into the sink. As he finishes coming, he makes eye contact with himself in the mirror. Under his weathered face, for a moment he sees a younger, sadder man before his nose twitches into a snarl and he rinses the cum down the sink.

As he goes to leave the bathroom, half his footsteps are clicking.   Something is stuck in the bottom of his work boot. He lifts his foot to look at the sole, and he pries a tooth from between the rubber ridges. He tosses it in the toilet on his way out. 

. . .

Joel changes out of his uniform, showers, and puts on jeans and a tight t-shirt. It’s dusk when he gets in your driver's seat and starts your car.  Empty coke bottles, goody's pain relief, fast food receipts, empty packets of gum.   There’s plenty of personal information about you, too. He could take you tonight, if he felt like it. Fuck you and dump you. Oh, not figuratively, literally.  If he feels like it. If only you hadn’t left him. . . he would’ve let you go. 

He pulls up google maps and types in your address.  It’s a long ass drive, an hour and a half, but might be worth it, he thinks.  “What the hell were ya doin’ out here,” he mutters to himself.  He knows the answer– whoring. Of course your gas tank is empty. He’ll fill it up on your dime. He hasn’t decided what to do with you when he puts the car in reverse. He'll figure it out on the way.

As he's driving off, the heavy wrench slides off the roof of your car. "God damnit," he mutters and stops to pick it up. Before he gets back in the car, he pats his pocket and makes sure he has his switchblade.  He calls his mom on the way to your house and tells her he needs to swing by for his extra key to the car. She asks him to stay for dinner. 

—---------------

It’s only been a few days. You’ve been driving Joel’s car. You know he’ll come for it eventually, and that’s okay, you think. Depending on how pissed he is about you leaving him handcuffed on his bed and stealing his car.  You think about him constantly, and it always turns you on. It’s making you irritable, living in a constant state of arousal. What’s wrong with you? He could kill you. He might still.  And yet, you have half a mind to drive all the way back to his sad little camper just to chain him up and ride him again. 

You’re home alone, watching TV when you hear a car park outside, then a car door closes. You look out the window and it’s your car. Your heart flutters. Then you hear another car door open and shut–Joel’s car–and the engine starts.  He drives away in his car without so much as a glance toward your house.  Your heart sinks and you’re disgusted with yourself.

You go out to your car and there’s a piece of paper under your windshield wiper. You unfold it and it says, “Take care, sweetheart.”  There’s something on the other side. You turn it over. It’s a drawing. You can’t tell what it is until you turn it to the side and a chill runs down your spine–not just from the content, but the quality. It looks like a kid could have drawn it, but it’s so crude. The focal point is a detailed vagina, clit, hole, labia, and all, liquid leaking out of it.  In much less detail, there are two legs spread with knees up, tits, and behind the tits, a picasso type face you presume is supposed to be you, based on the hair. Uneven eyes. 

Something’s wrong with him. And, of course, something’s wrong with you–Because your heart sank when he drove away, but it sank more when you read, “take care.” 

—

You think about him even more after that. Non-stop.  You convince yourself he was never going to kill you. He was trying to scare you. It was a fucked up game. You wash the grisly t-shirt he gave you–rendered pointless with slashes through the front, and stains. You wear it and wash it and wear it and wash it, and it’s so fucked up. 

A week or two later, you’re taking a walk in leggings and a tank top. You’re walking by some woods in an undeveloped stretch of your neighborhood, right before a big, vacant lot when you get an unsettling feeling. You jog the rest of the way home.

When you’re standing in front of your fridge cooling off with a cold glass of water, you hear metal on metal and look over to see your sliding glass door being pried open. Joel’s imposing form pauses in the doorway. Then he turns and tosses the crowbar outside. He shuts the door behind him. He’s holding a huge wrench and his other hand is flexing around nothing, fingers slightly wiggling. He’s wearing his mechanic jumpsuit and a scowl. 

His voice is deep and gravely. “Miss me, sweetheart?”

“What the hell are you doing here?” you ask as his boots thud ominously toward you. He’s so imposing, muscles begging for more room in his uniform.  His nose twitches one side of his mouth into a smile, then he tilts his head and wets his lips. He lifts the wrench and lets the end of it fall heavily into his other massive hand. You stand frozen against the kitchen counter. You let him pin you to it with his hips, and that's not all. He puts the wrench down with a loud clunk on the faux granite.  Then he plants his massive hands on either side of you, caging you to the counter. He presses his pelvis into you and the warmth of his semi-hard bulge makes you tingle. His belly presses into your middle. Your heart races.  You wedge your hand between you and palm his bulge.

He laughs, nearly silently, then brings his mouth to your ear. “M’not here to make love to ya, sweetheart.” His cock twitches against your hand. ”That what ya want?” 

You shake your head no and say, “want ya to fuck me.” 

He chuckles, then puts on an air of sympathy. “Shame. . .that’d be nice. . .” His breath hot on your ear. “Shouldn’t’a left me.” 

You try to move and he pins you by your wrists. You knee his groin and when he falls backward, you run around the counter. He comes after you with a switchblade. You trip over a pair of shoes and he grabs a fistful of your shirt on your way to the floor, lessening your impact. You’re face-down on the carpet. 

“Stop fuckin’ playin’,” he growls. He doesn’t let go of your shirt. He stabs through the fabric and slices all the way down to the bottom hem, then turns the blade upward and cuts the collar in one quick snap. You squirm under him. He puts all his weight on you, pushing his hard bulge against your ass. Then he lifts his pelvis off you, straddles your thigh, and shoves his hand between your legs, digging between your mound and the carpet to feel you through your leggings.  You know they’re already damp. Joel opens and shuts his hand over your cunt, plucking the stretchy fabric out from your body and snapping it back against your pussy.  Then he gets up on his knees, pulls the spandex out one last time, and stabs through it. He rips a big hole in the crotch. And he keeps stabbing and slicing at the fabric between your legs and then he nicks your inner thigh and you yelp. 

“sorry, sweetheart.” he backs down your leg and gives the booboo a kiss. He slices the seat of your leggings more carefully, ripping them all the way open, then he presses the flat of the knife against one buttcheek, separating your crack more. 

“Stop playin’,” he reminds you. 

“Okay,” you whimper and stop fighting. 

He puts his weight back on top of you, with his belly on your back and his knees straddling your thighs and his cock hard against your ass. He cups your exposed cunt and growls when he feels how wet you are. “There’s my sex kitten,” he murmurs. “Pussy’s dyin’ for it, ain’t she.” 

“Just fuck me already,” you whine, disturbed by what a lack of sexual interest could possibly  mean for you. Then you taunt, “Unless you can’t.”

He runs his thick fingers through your wet folds, then pushes one, then two, then three fat digits into you. He slowly pumps them and his cock swells against you. You twitch around him. 

He sighs and says, “Course I can” and unzips his jumpsuit. “Only ‘cause I feel like it.” He spits loudly, then notches at your entrance and he’s even wider than you remember. He shoves himself into you, parting your core with his absurd girth. 

“Mmmfuck,” he grunts. He retreats slightly then plunges in and you gasp as he bottoms out. “That what ya want?”

You get wetter around his cock and he begins to fuck you at a steady rhythm with your face pressed into the carpet. His hand engulfs the back of one knee to nudge it on the carpet, spreading your legs open more. He grunts as he pounds into you with the thickest cock you’ve ever had, even thicker than you remember. 

“Nasty girl,” he rasps as the heft of his cock splits you open. “Take it like a real cockslut, don’t ya?” 

Your nipples harden at his words and you whimper. 

“But damn you can ride it, too,” he pants. 

He grunts and moans as he buries his girth in you.  

“More,” you whine, unsure why you have the constant urge to provoke him. 

He pounds you harder and faster, grunting like an animal with his broad cock stabbing into you, massive balls slapping your skin through the tatters of your torn leggings.

“More,” you beg.

“Careful,” he warns.  “Cause I’ll give ya more.” 

His hips snap into you, stuffing you so full of cock, rearranging your guts. 

“More,” you pant and his hips slow. He thrusts his fat cock into you slower then takes it out entirely. The void he leaves is jolting and the air is cold on your dripping cunt. 

“Fuckin’ warned ya,” he bites. “Turn over and keep your mouth shut.”  He forces you onto your back so you can see him.  He slices through your sleeves and collars and you flinch with the knife near your neck. He tears your shirt off.  “Give ya more,” he mutters. He straddles your right leg so his right hand is closest to your cunt. He slaps your pussy and rubs his flattened fingers around in your ample slick. Then he wipes it on his cock.  He repeats the action until he’s satisfied with his lube. Then he spits on his cock again and slowly strokes himself with his left hand. 

He pumps his cock with his left hand, and with his right hand, he puts three fingers in a triangular formation and wedges them into your cunt while it’s still stretched from his cock.  He pushes his three fingers in and out, curling them, moving them side to side, stretching you slowly. Your body catches up with him, and your cunt gets even wetter. You’ll probably shrivel his fingertips at this rate.  He pulls his fingers almost all the way out, then adds his pinky to the others and begins to wedge all four of them into you, clustered together barely inside your entrance. He puts his thumb on your clit.  All four of his fat digits push into you and you moan. 

“Ooh she likes it,” he coos. “Ever had your gash this full?” You spasm at his crudeness. “Mm?” He thumbs your clit and keeps stroking himself with his left hand. 

You shake your head no. His four move in and out of you, and his eyes glue to your cunt, watching you take them.  He thumbs your clit faster and your back arches. Your cunt relaxes more, like you want to swallow him whole. 

He scowls, sliding all four of his fingers in and out of you as your body keeps you moist. Then he slides them out and pauses.  He spits on his thumb, despite how sopping wet you are. He wedges his thumb between his fingers, so his thumb and pinky are touching each other, clustered with the three middle digits. Then he begins to push his hand into you.  You groan at the stretch. His hand is massive, and gorgeous. You look at the other hand wrapped around his cock. It’s veiny–they both are, the hand and his cock. He adjusts his position and his massive balls rest on your thigh.

“Wanted more, didn’t ya?” he asks. He’s only buried his fingers to the second knuckle, with the bottom half of each digit still outside your cunt. He subtly twists his hand from side to side wriggling it into you. “Yeah, you can take it,” he says. Thank god you’re so shamefully wet for this psycho.  “That’s my sex kitten.” He lets go of his cock and plants his hand on the floor for leverage, leaning over you.  His hand pushes further into you, and you feel his major knuckles prodding at your poor, stretched hole. He pauses as though taking in the sight. He moans and his eyelids are half shut watching your dripping cunt stretch obscenely around his hand. “Fuck that’s hot,” he breathes, then he pushes the rest of his hand into you. 

The stretch burns when his major knuckles crest your hole, with the heel of his palm still outside you. You whimper and he keeps going. He pushes his hand in, making your hole grow even wider.  Your cunt stretches and swallows his hand—his whole hand. The heel of his palm nudges your g-spot, and his knuckles push against your walls. He’s buried to the wrist now. “Fuck, yeah,” he breathes. “God damn. . .hungry, ain’t she?” He pushes in a little further.  Your walls hug his massive hand and don’t want to let go. You’re shocked by the moisture just pouring into your core, like your body wants more, more, more. 

“What’s wrong with ya, huh?” You wish you knew.  “Lemme ruin your clothes, ruin your hole.” He breathes heavier, grinds his cock against your thigh, and keeps the hand inside you mostly still. He clenches the hand inside you and his breathing falters. He slightly twists his hand.  He starts to withdraw it, then pushes it back in before the knuckles emerge from your hole. He does this a few times, partly out and back in, and your walls squeeze him. You writhe under him.  Then, he begins to wriggle his hand out of you. “Fuck, you should see this, baby.”  He sits up straighter and takes his cock in his left hand again.  “Ohh, fuck,” he breathes. “Spread wide open around my hand.” his thumb slips out first and he puts it back on your clit. You whimper. 

“Yeah, ya like that?” he rubs you with his thumb, four fingers still inside you. Your hips lift into him. “Good girl,” he whispers, rubbing you rhythmically. You look at his fat cock in his hand, leaking precum, and you want it back so bad. “Not yet,” he shakes his head. He moves his four fingers inside you and thumbs your clit, watching between your legs with his mouth hanging open, saliva pooling at the corners of his lips. The tension builds and builds with his thumb on your clit until you begin to clench around his hand and he groans as your walls clamp down on him. “Ohhh,” he moans. “Good girl, oh fuck.” When you’ve finished spasming around his hand, he slides it out the rest of the way. When it’s out, he gives a low whistle and lightly taps your cunt with the backs of his fingers. “Don’t worry,” he reassures you. “Ain’t gonna leave ya empty.” He picks up his massive wrench and admires the wide end of it, a little bigger than his fist. 

You’re dumbstruck. It’s nasty, it’s gross, but your body wants it, really bad. It’s like a dream where you can’t make yourself talk. You don’t move. You just look at it, clit throbbing as he brings the fat end of the wrench to your deflated, weeping cunt. He uses his left hand to spread you open and hold you open, then the cold metal makes you wince and your whole body erupts in goosebumps.  His left hand helps, sticking his fingers in with the wrench and using them to tug your entrance around it as he wriggles the wrench into you. He’s gentler than you expect. He works the wide end of the tool all the way into you. It feels so dangerous and crude, but at least it’s smooth.  It doesn’t scratch, thank god. It’s a little awkward, the way parts of it jut out, but at least the metal is smooth. And having it inside you is somehow exhilerating

“And just like that,” he marvels, “ya took it.” He raises his eyebrows. “Damn.” 

“It’s fucking cold,” you complain. 

He begins to fuck you with it in short little thrusts, watching your cunt take it. You’re stretched around the metal. The danger, the obscenity of it turns you on, but you find yourself staring at his cock, wanting it back.  He lazily strokes himself with his left fist.  He follows your eyes and says, “Had enough, huh?” 

You nod. 

“Want my big fat cock back?”

You nod. 

“Alright, kitten.” He carefully wedges the wrench out of you and inhales sharply watching it emerge obscenely from your stretched out hole. He watches your body begin to pull itself back together as he puts the wrench down and gets between your legs.  He lines up and shoves all the way into you, sliding easily to the hilt. He begins to rail you unrestrained. “Not too bad,” he pants, sliding in and out of you easily. This time, he feels like an average sized man. “Fuck,” he breathes, already close. “Don’t worry.  Won’t leave ya empty.”  He slows down a little and seems to be holding his breath. “fill ya up now,” he pants. “Much as this cumsock can take.” Your cunt twitches. “That’s right.” 

He slams into you and erupts, pulsing massively into your worn-out hole, and a second climax sneaks up on you. Your hips lift into his and he groans.  He hovers over you as he cums, and you admire his face, barely keeping your eyes open with waves of pleasure crashing through your core.  

When his balls are empty. He hovers over you for a moment, gives a subtle but demented smile, eyes sparkling. Then he pulls out.

“Whew.” He sits back on his heels, and tucks his massive cock back into his jumpsuit. Your legs are still spread. He brings his face close to your cunt and says “all fucked out.” He gives it a pat with the backs of his fingers again. “Mmm.” He zips up his suit and braces his hands on his thighs. He stands up with a groan.  

“Why did you come here?” you ask him. 

He ignores the question, picks up the wrench, and leaves you on the floor.

----

Thank you so much for reading and interacting!! Love you guys. Happy Friday the 13th, and Happy Halloween.

[vanderilnde]

Simon and Johnny help you unwind. ghost/soap/reader warnings: substance use, smut, threesome, double penetration, a lot of ghoap action uwu wc: 1.3k

-

The military has a fickle reputation for the stuff they get up to in private.

Superficially, you're all saints who wear your medals as vestments. Lionhearted patriots fighting in the name of safety. The sacrificial lambs for freedom. But if they saw you now now, the people dedicated to thanking you for your virtuous service, surely, they'd hit the roof.

A glimmer of white powder coats the space below Johnny's nose, some of it caught in the fleece of his five o'clock shadow. Simon is poised behind you, bending you forward and distorting your spine, hoisting himself forward to lick the granules off Johnny’s ruddy face. He swills him in for a kiss and abruptly pulls away, stealing Johnny’s breath and giving it to you.

Johnny’s ratty. Always is when he’s worked up. Grabby and needy with how he ruts his hips up, baring his neck.

“Please,” he hiccups, “Cannae be patient–”

Simon shuts him up with a hand choked around the hinges of his jaw, digging divots into his dewy flesh. 

The gossamer of scars lining Simon’s face distend as he growls. “Pups don’t talk. Be quiet.”

Simon partakes in sanctimony as he pursues what he had barked at Johnny for. He’s a more refined, tenacious, in how he consumes and is consumed, fluidly reaching down to spread your sticky cunt open, hugging you in his thick arms. 

Your head falls back on his shoulder. Your hips swivel with the swish of his fingers on your clit. You deeply inhale, breath hitching on Simon’s name. 

Though his name dies on your tongue as he swats your pussy. Simon swallows your body as you flinch, and eases the burn of your clit with his palm as he cups your cunt, gently massaging your folds.

“What’s the point of havin’ two mutts when none of ‘em wanna listen?” He vacantly asks, hooking his fingers inside of you, spreading you open. “Johnny, get the snow.”

If you weren’t so fucked out, you would have cooed at how eagerly Johnny follows Simon’s orders. He gets caught on his own excitement and trips over himself on the way back, as a dog would trip over its tail, as he clutches a baggy of crystallised pellets. 

“Go ahead,” Simon prompts, “do it off her tits.” 

Simon pivots his forearm around your throat and anchors you to his chest. You can’t see it, but you can feel it, as Johnny shakes a fine strip of dust between your breasts. You’re slick with sweat, roiling with heat, softly dissolving the powder.

Johnny leans in and inhales what he can. He’s febrile when he comes up for air, flushed, tugging his cock that pathetically bobs in place. 

Simon loosens his hold on you and leans forward, licking the rest of it up. It's the first thaw—wetness against what used to be ice, as a burn sizzles your skin. You buck your hips up, and Simon slips his fingers from you. Raises them to his mouth and sucks them clean. Grips Johnny by the scruff of his neck and wrestles him in, swapping your taste with him.

Simon pulls back and, fleetingly, Johnny pathetically chases after him. A wash of saliva coats their lips, and a thin film of dew clouds Johnny’s eyes. It’s tempered with the powder that impairs him, prompts him to begin humping a pillow. 

“Y’reckon she needs a good fuck?” Simon asks.

Johnny vigorously nods. 

Simon pats his cheek. “Bark when you’re told.” 

“Aye.” Johnny's humping is stopped with Simon's peremptory hand. 

“Which hole do ya want?” 

The flinty tone laced in Simon’s question makes you flush. Makes embarrassment pool and congeal in your belly. It's so crass, so inclement as he pets his cock. 

Johnny hangs his head like a kicked dog, embarrassed, and Simon tactfully catches on. He deeply chuckles and grabs him by the jaw, kissing his furrowed lips. 

“You want it, you prep it.”

Johnny excitedly nods. He grabs you by the hips and spins you around, slipping his cock between the fat of your ass. He digs dimples into your shoulders, using them for leverage as he fiercely ruts you. You’re being used, watching as Simon fishes out lube from the bedside table, uncaps it, and squirts it onto the facet of Johnny’s palm. 

The squelch emanating behind you is evident. Johnny pulls you into his lap with one hand, and works the lube around his dick with the other. He softly mewls and moans, pinching his cockhead and kissing your asshole with it. 

Simon grunts, slotting himself before you. He tucks his legs below you, lodging his ankles behind Johnny. You’re slippery and sweet and honey-like between them, breathless and buttery as their wandering hands fondle you. Simon’s fat cock sits throbbing on your pussy as he shakes his thumb around the baggy, coating his finger in the powder. He rocks into you slower, meaner, than Johnny. Tugging down your bottom lip and rubbing powder into your gums. Slipping his thumb away, letting your lip pop back into place. 

“We’ve trained you for this, yeah?” Simon hums. He takes you by the chin and hoists your neck up, presses a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

You rock forward and want to swallow him whole. It’s a violent juxtaposition—Simon winsomely kissing you; Johnny stuffing his big cock in your ass, negligent to how your body tries shying away, insistent on sheathing himself all the way in. 

You’re quivering when Simon starts sliding himself into you. You’re all a mess of limbs—bleeding into one, coagulating into a deity while Simon fucks your dewy cunt, augmenting himself to you and Johnny.

“Get your bone, Pet,” Simon grunts into your neck. “Work for it.”

A wave of relief crests over you. You’re cut from your leash, unfettered and free to chase your orgasm. A manifold of molten builds in your belly, burning you, as you snap your hips back and forth. Swallowing Simon, swallowing Johnny. Sucking them deeper while your rings of muscle try pushing them out. They’re so big, it aches. 

Simon said you could fuck yourself on them, but it’s hard when you’re so full of cock. You’re a pack of dogs in heat, working together. Johnny, fucking brutishly into your ass. Simon jacking his hips balls-deep into you, thumbing your clit. You, ebbing between them. Weightless like water. Selfishly seizing all they have to give you. Wet and sticky, spread open on two dicks.

“‘M close, Simon,” Johnny chokes. He peals Simon’s name for permission. Permission to come, and more importantly, to come in something that’s his. To lapse into sacrilege and taint his pretty, pleasing, pup.

Johnny gets more desperate as he draws close, dissolving into sloppy thrusts and wandering teeth. A pin-headed mess of moans and hiccups. “I needa come.”

“Inside ‘er,” Simon snarls, and you clench down tighter, stifling his thrusts.

Johnny manages two more strokes before emptying his balls inside you. He’s buried to the hilt, releasing his warm and sticky come in you, crying, quivering, kissing your neck. 

His undoing triggers a chain reaction. He fills you up and you overflow, succumbing to your orgasm. It shoots through you like no bullet can, enfeebling you.

Simon follows closely. He takes you by the hind of your skull and shoves your face into his hairy, bare, virile chest. His heartbeat thumps against your ear as he shoots his turbid ropes into you, drawing closer and fucking you through your orgasms. 

They both pull you impossibly close—trying to sink themselves in your skin—and sit there for a while, marinating their softening cocks inside of you. 

Simon is the first to move. Johnny’s too fucked out and heavy-lidded. The former stands up and wipes you both clean, disposes the little bag in a fissure somewhere in his private barrack. The bed sinks under his weight as he climbs back on, and swiftly, like two parasites dead and cold without their host, you and Johnny nuzzle into Simon.

Your sweaty bodies glue you together, rebirthing you. It helps, being fixed with them. Because you, you’re broken in all the right places.

[lovebugism]

stevie smut based on those boat photos is not a want, but a need

18+

Steve’s initial glimmers gold on your sun-kissed skin — a swirled S in the middle of a dainty chain. 

Despite its simple statement, you know it must’ve cost him a fortune. That’s not to say he even noticed the small dent it made in his bank account, of course. You know he bought it for you without thinking twice. But to you, still a broke college student at heart, the tiny thing feels so much heavier.

Imposter syndrome creeps up your spine like the cold hand of a ghost. 

Just yesterday, you were studying for finals, and now you’re on a yacht off the coast of Venice. Six months ago, you were living in a slum of a studio apartment on a top ramen only diet. Now you’re in Italy, with real gold around your neck, on a boat that wasn’t yours, drinking wine you didn’t pay for.

You know it’s all because of Steve just as much as you know he’s doing this for you because he loves you. You just can’t believe that it’s happening to you. 

What did you do to deserve any of this? To deserve Steve? What could you possibly give him in return to show how grateful you are for all of it? What do you give him that he can’t already buy?

“What are you thinking about, hm?” the boy himself questions as he appears in front of the leather couch you’re lounging on. He holds two glasses in his hands, one full of whiskey and the other white wine. He hands the latter off to you. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you hum innocently in return. Your sundress falls to your lap when your knees bend to invite him next to you. His arm curls around your legs to pull them back over his khaki-clad lap when he sits down. His hand rests on your bare thigh.

“You know what I’m talking about,” he argues, squeezing softly at the plush skin — not enough to hurt you, but enough to make you giggle into your wine. “You’re doing the thinking face.”

“I am not doing the thinking face.”

“You so are,” he counters with a gentle grin and sparkling eyes. You didn’t think unbelievably wealthy guys could be as cute as he was. “What is it? Are you hungry?”

You shake your head against the pillow. “No. I’m good.”

“Do you feel okay? Are you seasick?” 

His tone is soft with concern. He’s already got himself all worried. 

Steve’s hand leaves your thigh to push his sunglasses to the top of his head, forcing his honey locks back in the process. A few ornery strands still hang over his forehead. His chocolate eyes, deeper than a thousand oceans, melt with concern. “Do you need me to call another boat? Should we go back to the hotel—”

Your giggling puts an end to his panicked rambling. He squints while you hide your smile with your wine glass. “What?” he lilts with a smile, still halfway worried that you’re coming down with sunstroke.

“Nothing,” you hum when the laughing fit ebbs like a low tide. You tilt your head to your shoulder and smile. “I just love you.”

You swear you see him sigh in relief.

“Oh, you’re just lovesick, huh? That it?” 

The way he coos at you — sounding almost degrading even though you know he’s only joking — makes your thighs squeeze shut. His warm fingers are caught between them.

“Very,” you nod like you’re proud to be. Because you are. 

You’re lucky to love a guy like Steve. Even luckier that he loves you back. 

Wind whips through the collar of his white button-up as he props his elbow on the back of the couch, facing you more. The top of his shirt is unclasped to reveal the cinnamon scruff on his chest that he also sports on his unshaven jaw. 

He’s too hot to smile so sweetly down at you.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, obviously insincere as he scrunches his nose. “Think I might’ve given you the lovebug…”

You shrug. “’S okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah… As long as you stay sick with it forever.”

Steve’s sculpted features melt as he gazes down at you. He goes kind like he’s about to tell you how stupid you are for even thinking he could be anything other than crazy for you. 

Despite the strange angle, he begins to lean toward you, sitting his whiskey down on the glass table in the process. “Oh, honey, I’m gonna be sick over you for the rest of my life.”

“Ew,” you giggle at his wording, reaching for his stubbly cheek anyway. You scoot slightly over to accommodate his body.

Your mouth puckers for an innocent kiss that he’s more than happy to give you — one, two, then three of them, to be exact. The fourth one is far too languid to be called a peck, too wet and too full of tongue. 

You sigh against him at the tenderness of it, like a first love or a last one.

Steve’s hand is still pressed between your warm thighs, still trapped between them lest he think about moving it. His other bends at the elbow to prop himself up. It’s not like he’s going anywhere anyway, not from where he’s squished between your body and the back of the couch — with your legs thrown over him and your free hand clutching his face to yours. The other is wrapped around his neck and still holding your wine.

You lick sinfully into his mouth, like a kitten to milk, just before you part from him.

“Wanna buy you a necklace, too,” you tell him, breathless and quiet and seemingly out of the blue.

A crooked smile quirks on the right side of his rosy mouth. He knows you can’t afford it. The thought is cute, anyway. “Yeah?”

You nod, bottom lip caught between your teeth as your hand curls around the base of his neck. You can feel the thrumming of his pulse against your thumb. 

“Wanna put my initial here,” you confess lowly, glassy eyes never leaving his honeyed ones. “Want everyone to know you’re mine, too.”

“Too?” he echoes with a smile, too full of love to be smug. His hand twists between your thighs and moves like syrup beneath your dress. He cups your bikini-clad cunt and grins. “‘Cause you’re mine, huh? Is that it?”

You nod. 

A moan leaves in a fragile sigh from your parted lips when his finger sneaks beneath the fabric. He rubs you, up and down one time, just to feel how wet you are and to smile when he finds you’re soaking. 

“Always been,” you tell him through bated breaths.

“Always been.” He repeats it like a vow. When he leans down again, you think he’s going to kiss you. You’re heartbroken when his lips meet your warmed cheek. 

You taste like lotion and sunshine, like new adventures and nostalgia. 

“Let’s get you to a bed, yeah? So you can show me who I belong to.”

He says it like a courtesy, like he’s giving you an ounce of the power he normally keeps for himself. But you know your place. You know he’ll ruin you soon enough. You’ll forget your own name before you can make him repeat it for you. 

You love it.

Steve rises off you and extends a hand to help you up, too. You trail happily behind him, knowing where he’s leading you — what he’s leading you to.

Your glasses sit abandoned beside one another, going warm beneath an orange sun.

—————

“God, honey. Fuck,” Steve swears. 

His grunts mix with the sinful slapping of your thighs against his lap. His happy trail and trimmed bush are soaked with the slick you drip for him. He squeezes the plush of your hips to help guide you up and down over his cock. 

“Takin’ my dick like a fuckin’ champ, baby. Like you were made for it, huh?”

You nod, slacked mouth and panting. Little whimpers spill from your swollen lips every time you move down over him, every time he hits the spongy spot deep within you that only he could ever reach. It feels like so many little strikes of purple lightning — too much to bear, but still not enough.

His golden initial sways above your breasts as your tits bounce in front of his face. He desperately wants a taste of you, to take your stiff nipple into his mouth, but he doesn’t want to take his eyes off you. 

“You’re so pretty, honey, you know that?” he babbles, heavy eyes flitting back up to your fucked-out face. It’s hard to talk with your snug cunt squeezing him somehow tighter. His words spill through gritted teeth. “Pussy’s pretty, too. And so— fuck— so good for me. Shit, honey… ‘M gonna come if you keep riding me like this…”

You moan in a delicate cry at his admission. Pride swells in your chest to know you’re making your boy feel as good as you do.

One hand clutches the pillow beside his head while the other takes purchase on his neck, the place you’ve got a newfound adoration for. You don’t choke him, though. You’re too gentle for all that. But not so gentle that you don’t know how to kiss him breathless. 

Your mouth engulfs his own, swallowing him whole and making him forget whose air he’s breathing.

His hands trail from your hips to your ass. He grips the fattiest part with wide, warm palms and spreads them apart. He imagines how his cock must look sinking into you, shining with your honey and his pearly pre-come. He imagines your fluttering cunt swiping against his heavy balls.

You hear him spank you before you feel it.

The smack comes just before the high heat that blooms across your right asscheek. “Steve,” you moan, unabashedly needy for him as ride him harder than you had been just before. The way he hit you felt like encouragement, rough but still tender.

The bed begins to rock beneath you like the yacht your man has put you on and the bright blue sea that carries the two of you.

Your wet cunt sucks his cock inside of you, taking him deeper and deeper even though the feeling of him so far within you borders on painful. Desperate and whining for him, you keep taking him like you were made to do it. 

Because you were. 

“Yeah, keep bouncing, honey. Doing so good for me,” he manages a fucked-out smile when low squelches start to fill the lavish studio. “Pussy’s perfect baby— god, fuck.” 

He cuts himself off with a groan when you tighten around him, tossing his head back on the fluffy pillow that you grip for dear life. 

“No pussy’s ever been this good for me, you know that? Always so good… How am I— shit— How am I ever supposed to stop fucking you, huh?”

“Don’t,” you squeak out. It’s the first intelligible thing you’ve said since you started riding him. You pout, scrunched browed and jutted lip, as your orgasm creeps up your sweat-slick spine. “Don’t want you to ever stop fucking me.”

Steve nearly bursts right then.

He doesn’t mean to take over — to hold your hips still and prop you above him while he plants his feet on the mattress. He doesn’t mean to fuck up into you, but he’s gone just as stupid as you have. His cock twitches and jerks within your snug pussy, and he wants so desperately to come. More than that, he wants to make you come like he knows you’re bound to.

“Yeah? You love my dick, don’t you?” he laughs through bated breaths — like he isn’t rightfully dumb over your pussy. “You always get so slutty for it.”

You don’t know if you want to protest or agree with him. All you do is moan as your fingers dig into his furry chest. The wet slap of his balls against your ass entwines with your cries and his taunts.

“Yeah, you do,” Steve coos, jaw clenched and brows furrowed. He still talks so softly to you like he isn’t fucking you for all you’re worth. “Go ahead, honey, cream on my dick. Make a mess for me… Gonna sit you on my face after, okay? I bet you’ll taste so sweet for me when I’m done with you.”

Your mouth falls in a silent cry. Your pussy spasms around him at the thought of his mouth between your legs, slurping at your honey and his come that leaks from your gaping hole.

“Get yourself there for me, baby,” he commands in a gentle murmur. “Take this dick. Take what you’re given—”

And just like always, you do. 

You orgasm on his stiff cock a second later — not coming, but gushing. His heavy cock jerks inside you right after, spitting several warm loads into your trembling cunt. 

His wide hands find purchase on your sweat-slick back, holding you to his scruffy chest while his hips buck against you, pushing his dick as far as you’ll take him. And, like the good girl you are, you take him all the way.

You take everything he gives you — come, orgasms, and gold necklaces alike.

When your senses return and your heavy breaths go even, Steve feels you smile against his neck. He thinks he must have fucked you so sufficiently stupid that all you can do is grin through the rippling aftershocks of your high.

That’s only half true.

You just know that he’s worked up an appetite after having fucked you so ardently. And you figure he won’t need a piece of jewelry with your initial on it when he’s wearing your come on his chin. 

[gimmeurtmi]

the sweet spot by the scruff of your knee socks — felix

pairing: lee felix x fem!reader

tags: established relationships, smut!!!🔞

warnings: swearing, body worshipping, teasing, light nipple play, thighs thighs thighs.

inspo: this.

( wc — 2669 )

notes: yes the title is from knee socks by the arctic monkeys. no i don’t care that this isn’t 2014 tumblr anymore it’s a bop. first thing i saw in the morning was that reel and clearly i had to do something about it.

“hey!” you let into the house as you toed off your shoes. you let your boyfriend know you’d be home early today, as a five hour meeting before lunch meant your boss was feeling merciful and let you have a half day once it was concluded.

but you didn’t think you’d come home to this.

you made your way to the bedroom, where you knew felix would be gaming. if he wasn’t practicing he was taping away on his console and you knew he wasn’t practicing.

but when you entered your shared room you found that he wasn’t gaming either.

he was standing in front of the full length mirror, taking pictures. but that wasn’t what you were focusing on.

he was wearing his brown denim shorts that were perfect for a picnic (is what felix reasoned when he bought them regardless of their three figure price tag) and your black knee high socks.

“w-what are you wearing?” you stumbled, the tone entering your ears was accusatory. but you weren’t so sure that was what you were feeling at the sight of him.

felix turned around to face you, eyes wide.

“oh, hi!” he smiled brightly, “noona asked me to send her a picture like this, she had an idea for our next photoshoot.”

“you’re wearing my knee socks,” is all you managed.

“yeah, i didn’t have any and she said that was the important part of the outfit,” he explained, apologetic.

noona wasn’t wrong about that.

you didn’t say anything back.

“i know i should’ve asked,” he nodded, taking your silence to mean something it didn’t. “i was going to wash them straight away.”

you weren’t really listening.

your eyes were glued to the turf of skin left uncovered, his muscles tensing as he shifted his weight from side to side. if you were paying attention you would’ve noticed the regret in his eyes, the apology on his lips, but you didn’t care about that.

all you wanted was to devour him.

you decided that wasn’t appropriate and you needed to distance yourself from him before you pounced on your unsuspecting boyfriend.

you made your way to the living room slowly, your boyfriend trailing behind you.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t go into your things! i folded them last night so i just took them from the pile,” he explained quickly, trying his best to voice how careful he was with your privacy.

here he was, considerate and wonderful, and you were thinking about covering his thighs with marks.

you took in a deep breath.

you sat yourself on the couch, felix quickly following, eyes wide and curious and trying to understand your reaction.

“felix, it’s okay,” you let out, voice strangled.

he moved closer to you, angling his knees to get closer, showing off his uncovered thighs. so innocent.

“if it was okay why are you calling me felix?” his eyebrows jumped wide, eyes sparkling. so so innocent.

you shook your head, trying to rid yourself of all the not innocent thoughts in your mind. your fingers were practically shaking as you tried holding them back from groping his thighs. forcing them open.

“it is okay, lix,” you forced a smile onto your face, “i don’t mind you borrowing my clothes.”

“i didn’t ask,” he apologises.

“don’t worry, your stylist needed references. it’s cool.” and it would’ve been cool if your voice didn’t break at the very last syllable.

felix huffed, unsatisfied, and hooked a finger under your chin—forcing you to look in his eyes. his big, sparkling, wonderful eyes.

you can’t bring yourself to study his irises, instead focused on the heart shaped freckle right by his lower lash line.

“mhmm,” he hums in annoyance, “look at me.”

and then he pouts. all you can do is whine, trying your best to push back everything you are dying to do to him.

it must show on your face, the concentration it’s taking from you, because felix moves closer, his hand cupping your cheek as he rubs soothing circles into your warm skin.

“what’s wrong, moonshine?” his voice is so soft, soft enough to break through your resolve.

“you’re beautiful,” you sigh back, eyes falling to his thighs.

felix laughed in return, his deep laugh vibrating loudly.

“is that bad?” he chuckled.

“you have no idea what i wanna do to you right now,” you whispered, solemnly letting your finger reach for his thigh. his skin is so soft, softer than the rest or him is, but the thought only makes you want to test that hypothesis further. rub your hands all over his skin, compare his softness to his edges, to his scars and his freckles.

you swallow.

“i don’t,” he grins at you when your eyes shoot up to meet his, “how will i know?”

he hums, bringing a hand up to his chin as if he asked you the most wondrous question—one only you hold the answer to.

“lix,” you grumble, rolling your eyes at his antics.

“yeah?” his eyebrows jump up again, inticing you all over again. his face doesn’t scream of innocence anymore, but a second wave is moving through his eyes. playfulness.

“what did she say about the outfit?” you deflect instead.

“what do you think about it?”

“yongbok,” you chuckled, “answer my question.”

“fine,” he smiled, “let me go change first.”

your fingers circle around his wrist, holding him in place before he can move away from the couch. he looks back at you questioningly.

“yes?” he draws out the syllables, letting his eyes scan over you curiously.

“you don’t need to change,” you mumble, tugging at his wrist.

felix follows dutifully, falling back onto the couch with his legs tucked beneath him. his knees propped against your lap, the socks rolling down ever so slightly from the movement.

“how come?” he cocks his head to the side, his blonde bangs fanning over his forehead lightly. you want to kiss whoever gave him that perm, the curls suited him so well and framed his forehead perfectly.

“you know i hate you?” you groan at him, knowing exactly what he was doing.

he might’ve been naive at first, but as soon as he realised what your silence was actually about he leaned into it even more—acting as if he has no idea what got you so bothered.

you wished he’d just initiate something instead of making you do it.

with his outfit like that, with his hair all messy, with his face bare, he looks so pure. too pure for you to be thinking of him so lustfully.

“if you hate me so much i can just go get changed?”

you groan dramatically, letting your head fall on his shoulder. felix laughs again, this time letting the vibrations move through you as he brings a hand to the back of your hair.

he rubs your head a few times, and once his laughter dies down the silence takes over the room instead. it’s thick around you, growing stronger when felix brings your head up to face him.

he brushes your lips together, smiling softly at you as he pulls away.

that won’t do.

you cupped his face, hands going to his skin in an instant, not letting him get too far away from you. you’re pulling him in, lips against his, a small squeak leaving him at your actions.

it only takes a moment for felix to relax against the kiss, melting into it as his tongue reaches out to caress yours.

your hands trail all the way from his face and down his body, skipping towards his knees.

your fingers dig into the roughness of the socks, rubbing against them before you trail up—and the softness of his skin stands in such big contrast that you sigh into his mouth.

“lover—“ he starts, but you swallow his words down as you kiss him deeper.

you massage the skin of his thighs, groping and soothing and trailing all over the expanse of his skin.

finally, the blood stops rushing to your brain and you need to pull away—your head feeling light and foggy and lacking in oxygen.

“have you, like, never seen my thighs before?” he chuckled at you, breathless just the same.

“sorry, uhm,” you feel yourself blush, unable to look at him now. you didn’t realise just how much you were digging into his skin until you notice the light redness where your hands once were. “sorry.”

“anyway,” he sighs, shaking his head lightly, “are you hungry?”

you grab his face again.

this time it takes felix completely off guard, and your weight causes him to fall backwards on the couch. which is perfect, as you find purchase in between his knees, spreading them lightly as your hands once again rub up and down—reaching the top of his (your) socks and travelling back up until you reach the hem of his shorts.

felix grabs at your shoulders pulling you closer to him, kissing you deeply as he savours your touch.

he wasn’t expecting this to be the outcome of your silence, but he wasn’t complaining at all. he’d let you do just about anything you wanted to him.

you spread his legs further, digging your thumb into his inner thigh as you do. he’s much more sensitive there, jumping slightly at the ticklish sensation.

you pick up on it, and run your thumb lightly around his skin, over and over and over until he’s squirming.

he tries closing his legs around you but you don’t let him, pulling away so you can push his knees apart until they’re on opposite sides of his body.

felix gaps up at you.

“don’t tickle me,” he pleads with a giggle.

you run your hands up, higher and higher, and thank god his shorts are baggy as you slip your hands inside them, clinging onto his boxers.

“how come?” you mirror him, head to the side and all.

your boyfriend laughs, his left eye scrunching slightly, shaking his head at you. “is this payback for being dumb and not knowing you were horny?”

“oh, but you knew,” you lean down, hovering above his face. “you knew and you acted all innocent.”

“just for a little bit,” he says weakly.

“and you look all innocent in this outfit, which is driving me fucking crazy,” you finally voice your thoughts.

“but, i,” he looks around himself confused, “i didn’t do anything.”

“that makes it worse,” you groan, fingers inching up towards his crotch as much as the denim allows you to.

“okay,” he concedes, “make me pay for it?”

he grins up at you, eyes playful and smile wide. his cheeks scrunch up around his lips and you want to yell at him for being so adorable while implying what he is.

you huff.

you release your hands from his shorts, instantly rolling up the ends of his black shirt.

“off?” you ask quietly.

“yes, yes, definitely,” he nods quickly, scrambling to tear the shirt off and throw it far far away.

your hands cup his waist, running up and down his torso as you take in the sight of him. you can’t decide if this part of him is softer, so you explore further, up his ribs and across his chest. he sighs lightly when your fingers brush his nipples.

you lean down, kissing across his chest where the freckles are less frequent but still present. you pick them as your starting points, kissing from one to the other until you reach his belly button.

felix doesn’t interfere at all, closing his eyes as he basks in the attention you give him, and once your lips reach the little trail signalling you towards where he wants you to go, he buries his hand in your hair.

you skip down, much to his displeasure, and push his knee up towards his chest.

the back of his thigh is right there, exposed more now that his shorts have climbed up from the movement.

you attach your lips to his skin, giggling as felix does. he really is ticklish.

you kiss more and more, until you’re sure you kissed every part of his thigh.

you kiss up the hem of his shorts. higher and higher.

you kiss where a very visible tent has now formed.

you glance up at felix, all red cheeked and panting, and his hands reach for the button on his shorts.

you stop him.

“y/n,” he whines.

“leave them on,” you say, voice hoarse.

“but i’m so—“

“—please?”

felix nodded, animatedly, and teared his hands away.

you smiled.

you reached for them, lacing your fingers together as you place them on his thighs.

you dive down between your interlocked hands, mouthing at his hard on through the shorts.

felix gives your hands a tight squeeze, lifting his hips up to feel more of your mouth on him.

“i’ll leave the boxers on, gorgeous, please just let me—“

“—shhh,” you soothe, kissing his lower stomach. his skin is so much warmer than it was when you started.

you tear one of your hands away from his grip, palming at his cock as slowly as you can. you manage to grip him through the material, although that isn’t enough—if the impatient whine felix lets out is anything to go by.

felix starts thrusting up into your hold, his other hand in yours and using you for leverage, desperate moans leaving him.

you let your eyes scan him, from the socks to his shorts to his beautiful bare torso, all the way to his face. his lips are parted, red and swollen, and his eyes hooded. they’re still sparkling though.

you can’t stop yourself from kissing him, him answering in such beautiful desperation.

you let go of his other hand—another whine follows—to steady yourself against him, fingers digging into his stomach.

you blindly follow his curves upwards, focusing on three things at once. four if you count the beautiful noises he’s letting into your mouth.

when your finger circles his nipple he gasps, tearing apart from your lips.

“you’re gonna fucking kill me,” he groans, his voice dropping to its lowest. you shudder slightly, you can’t help it when he’s so close to you. it’s almost like he can make his voice move through you.

“first i’m gonna make you cum, though,” you kiss his cheek.

and then he does.

felix groans, deep and loud and carnal, lifting his hips up into your hand.

his thighs flex and contract, demanding your attention, and you quickly latch yourself onto that sensitive part of his skin.

when you notice his stomach relaxing you look up at him, kissing his thigh softly before moving up his body.

“wait, don’t,” he says before you press against him. “it’s.. sticky.”

you laugh as he avoids your eyes, embarrassed.

“yeah, lix, that was the point.”

“you ruined my shorts,” he pouts, pulling you into the space between him and the couch pillows. you rest your hand on his chest.

“sunshine, you did that yourself,” you grinned.

“fine, i guess i deserve that for taking your stuff.”

you laughed, resting your head on his shoulder. felix brings a hand into your hair, brushing a few strays away from his face.

“you’re beautiful, lixie,” you say softly, smiling before kissing his cheeks.

felix smiles widely in response, pulling you closer.

“where did you buy the socks, by the way? i think it’ll be beneficial to invest in a pair of my own.”

you roll your eyes at him, laughing when you catch his wide grin.

“so…” you start, trailing your finger between all the freckles you kissed, “when you do that photoshoot, can i come?”

“absolutely not!” he gasps, “so you can ruin shorts that aren’t even mine?”

“you ruined them!” you retort.

“you did!”

“felix,” you scoff.

you pull down your pants, kicking them off your legs. the cool air instantly sticks to your very damp underwear, and you waste no time repositioning yourself so his thigh is lodged between your legs, “here’s how i would’ve ruined them.”

[polakina]

how they kiss you

red dead redemption headcanons #1

hc masterlist // masterlist

wanted to do some rdr2 headcanons since my cod ones have been so fun. send in any ideas. im all ears, petals

rating: explicit

-

every kiss with this man feels like a breath of fresh air

so passionate

he loves catching you off guard with kisses

smiles when he sees your look of bewilderment when he sneaks behind you, planting a kiss on your cheek

likes to hold your face when he kisses you, his hands on your cheeks, holding you close

smells of burnt wood and tastes of cigarettes, but you love it nonetheless

always kisses softly, but deeply, until your head clouds and you can't focus on anything but the moment

favourite place to kiss you is your neck

likes to sit behind you at the campfire when he's taking a break from playing his guitar

he wraps his arms around you and kisses your neck softly every time

you think it's just because he likes to be close to you

but the real reason is because he can feel your pulse quicken under your skin, the beating against his lips speeding up with each kiss

it's your favourite place to be kissed, and he knows it

is the instigator of most kisses

tilts your chin up if you're sat at the camp table to kiss your lips

pulls you into him by your waist if you're passing by and kisses your cheek before going on watch around camp

nsfw (minors LEAVE)

you can tell when he's needy for you just based on how he kisses you

in camp, it's sweet but fleeting

he never lingers

when you're alone, they're deeper, his tongue searching the crevice of your mouth

or even if you're at the campfire with everyone else, and he kisses you until the breath leaves your lungs, you know exactly what he wants

he may love to kiss your neck, but nothing beats kissing his way down your body in the confines of your shared tent

kissing your stomach and your thighs, the noises you make, his lips never want to leave your skin

he likes to bite your bottom lip when he kisses you, mumbling against your neck as he works his way down your body about how much he wants you, all the things he wants to do to you

he kisses you like it's the last time his lips will ever touch yours

fervently, passionately

and nothing but that

his lips are planted hard and firmly against yours, his hands cradling the back of your neck and wrapped around your lower back

always says he loves you between kisses

his favourite place to kiss you are your hands, though

sweet, innocent hand or knuckle kisses are what he really loves

takes your hand in his whenever he's preparing to ride out, and leans down from his horse to kiss the back of your hand

his beard always tickles your skin, and he smiles when you giggle at the roughness of his scruff

he started to kiss your knuckles because you did it to him

his bruised fingers and bloodied knuckles, you kissed them and said it'd make his hands feel better

it was bullshit, but you did it anyway, and he loved it

likes to kiss all over your face, peppering your features in his kisses

he stands taller than you, so likes to tip your head up to kiss you

dips his head with a smirk on his face when he kisses your lips

nsfw (minors LEAVE)

always starts with your hands when you're in the bedroom

kisses each of your knuckles while his eyes remain fixed on yours

loves loves LOVES to kiss you when he's inside you

whether you're on top, sinking down slowly onto him, or whether he's hovered above you

he loves kissing you slowly, deeply, his tongue mingling with yours as his taste of whiskey and smoke seeps into your mouth

loves when you moan into his mouth, that shit could make arthur cum on the spot

especially loves to kiss you afterwards, kissing the tip of your nose as you laid there together, breathing some air back into your lungs

his kisses are hesitant, and you can feel the nerves behind his kisses

he was especially nervous to kiss you the first time. the man was a bag of shakes when he first kissed you

and he's been like that ever since

he's a simple man

his favourite place to kiss you is your lips

sweet innocent kisses from him when you wake in a morning is what fuels you for the day

before he leaves for a job, or to hunt, or to basically anything, will kiss you softly and quickly, almost as if he didn't kiss you at all

they're quick pecks, he doesn't do much more than that

like i said, he's a simple man

is first and foremost a gentleman, will ask to kiss you when you get a moment alone

doesn't like pda, won't do it in front of the group unless he's in a panic from a job gone wrong

that's when he'll hold you tightly, kissing you deeply and whispering how much you worried him

but other than that, will ask for your permission

you've told him countless times he doesn't have to ask, and countless times he's ignored you and asked anyway

nsfw (minors LEAVE)

when he fucks you, he mainly kisses you to keep himself quiet

if he didn't, his groans would fill the tent

the man cannot be quiet

but when he's in that blissful moment of feeling you clench around his cock, he practically begs for you to kiss him

he loves being close to you when the two of you are alone

"fuck. please kiss me, darlin'. you feel too good. i need you"

kisses you with a sense of passion you haven't felt before when he's inside you

bites your bottom lip, your neck, kisses all over your chest and breasts

absolutely obsessed with your body

[intoanotherworld23]

Hungry Hungry Joel

Pairing: Reader x Joel Miller

Warnings: NSFW 18+ only, this whole one shot is smut and sex, some fingering, oral female receiving, sex, unprotected sex, p in v, rough sex, dirty talk, swear words

Summary: Joel is incredibly hungry and the only thing he wants to devour is you, and you look absolutely delicious

"Poor baby cat got your tongue?" Feeling him grin into your thigh as he plunged three fingers knuckle deep inside of you the scruff of his beard scratching along your skin.

"You're so wet."

Reaching out on either side of you gripping on the ends of the table. Your legs bent and spread wide for Joel’s hungry mouth listening to him devour you. Feeling your cheeks heating up at the sloshing sounds your pussy made around his fingers.

"Fuck sweetheart you're such a good girl for me." Groaning at the sight of you taking his rapid fingers wondering to himself how he lucked out finding a girl like you.

"Bet you wanna come all over my fingers sweetheart." He mused as his lips gently kissed your skin your legs shaking tempting to close around his head. "And my mouth."

"Jesus yes Joel."

Not exactly knowing what you were saying yes to but you were so needy you'd agree to anything he said. All you knew was that you wanted any part of him that you could get. Even if it was just his fingers or mouth or cock or hell even all three would be best.

"Please I wanna cum in your mouth.

"Fuck Y/N if only you could see how fucking hot you look." Groaning so deep as he watched in awe your pussy clenching around his fingers. "You look so pretty like this baby."

Biting your bottom lip between your teeth as one of your hands reached up to start playing with your breasts. Pinching your nipple between your thumb and pointer finger rolling it around making you gasp.

"Fuck you're so sensitive." Smirking with a playful chuckle as he massaged his middle and pointer finger around your clit your body jolting like an electric current went through you. "God I love you like this."

"Desperate to cum aren't you?" Mumbling against your folds as his tongue flicked back and forth against your clit whimpering loudly. "Fucking hell."

Joel made sure to keep a tight grip around your waist when you started rocking your hips back and forth. Squirming around in his hold from the feeling of his wiggling tongue to his thick fingers. You couldn't stop moving around you needed more, and wanted more.

"Wanna hear that pretty mouth talk to me." Whispering up as you as he watched your face grinding his hips against the air feeling himself becoming painfully hard he loved seeing you lose control like this.

"Tell me what you want Y/N."

"God fuck I want to cum around your fingers." Screaming as both your hands reached down to grip on his hair tugging so hard he literally growled around your clit. "Jesus fuck yes please."

His fingers pumping so fast into you your entire body was moving against the table. Mouth hanging wide open as little whimpers left your mouth. Eyes closed as you just imagined what he looked like under you. Mouth engulfing your entire pussy, and his fingers disappearing inside of you drenched in your arousal.

Your back starts arching off the table as your becomes overheated with pleasure. He's bringing you so close to the edge you feel like you're going to fall. Knowing his eyes are looking up at you pushing you to your release.

"I'm gonna wreck this sweet little pussy." Murmuring more to himself than you his lips attaching to your clit sucking so hard you can feel tears in the corners of your eyes placing your hands on the back of his head.

"Gonna have your pussy creaming all night."

Curling his fingers at the right angle making your legs tremble his hands moved to your knees keeping them from suffocating him not that he wouldn't mind that. In fact it made him feel powerful knowing the control he had over you.

"Let go for me sweetheart." His words made your entire body tingle as he sharply thrusted his fingers deep and stuck them there motioning his fingers in a come here. "You're safe baby let go pretty girl."

"Oh fuck shit shit shit yes oh god I'm cumming."

It hit you like a freight train as your entire body spasms on the table and his fingers and mouth don't stop pushing you through your orgasm.

A tear running down your cheek as your body felt like butter that was melted and being spread across a piece of bread. Your eyes felt so heavy as you tried to keep them open looking up into the ceiling staring up at the chandelier above you. Joel rubbing his hands up and down your legs in a soothing motion as you tried to catch your breath.

"Not done with you yet baby." He whispered as he kissed up your thighs and stood up his hands grabbing your sides as he tugged your body closer to him. "Told you I was gonna wreck this pussy."

Looking down to watch as he pushed his cock all the way deep inside you both of you groaning at the tight feeling. Your pussy being stretched by him as your hands grabbed onto his wrists waiting for him to move.

"Stretching your tight little pussy so good." Groaning as he moved his hips sharply back and forth watching your breasts bouncing licking his lips in lust.

"Fuck you feel so good around me sweetheart."

It was a reflex to start moving your hips towards him when he pushed forward. Looking up at him his eyes once so light were now darkened with hunger and oh boy was this man hungry for you. He craved you all the time and the only way to satisfy his hunger is by taking you hard.

"Taking it so well for me baby." Whispering as his eyes glanced down to his glistening cock your body shuddering underneath him.

"Fuck Joel just like that please fuck me so good." Whimpers falling out of your mouth as clawed at his wrists his thrusts were getting deeper and harder.

"Gonna fuck you like the little whore you are." Parting your lips at the name calling and you loved it loved when he talked to you like this but was still being gentle with you. "Such a cock hungry little thing for me."

Burying himself so deep inside of you a hand moving up your stomach to your breasts. Massaging the lump on your chest as your pussy would clench around him. Sliding that same hand to your throat his fingers wrapping around your neck making you gasp.

Arching your back off the table as he was ramming straight into your cervix. Cursing to yourself as you tried to meet his thrusts and keep up with him. Sweat forming on your lower back and feeling it move all the way down to your ass.

"You wanna cum baby?" Nodding feverishly knowing that you were on the edge again and you felt this one was going to be intense.

"Want to hear you say it Y/N."

"Please Joel I want to cum so badly I wanna cum all over your cock." Begging him as you stared deep into his eyes your cheeks felt like they were on fire. "God Joel I'm so close."

That was all he needed to hear as both his hands were back on your hips as he drilled so hard into you you were almost worried he was going to break you in half. Mouth wide open but no sounds were coming out the veins in his neck popping out as his chest and neck turned a slight shade of red.

"You look so cock drunk right now sweetheart." Stating out loud with amusement as he watched your body going limp under him.

Hitting that sweet spot over and over again making your vision become blurry. Your screams filled the room and that was the only motivation he needed to keep going. He was close just like you and he was determined for both of you to get there together.

"Cum for me baby." He whispered feeling your pussy clamp down on his cock. "Cum all over my cock baby."

Your entire body going limp as your orgasm had washed over you. Hands grabbing onto your legs as he kept pushing through groaning as his cock twitched inside of you a few more pumps inside of you was all he needed.

"Fuck fuck fuck."

Sneering through gritted teeth as his load squirted inside of you his hand reaching down to grip the base of his cock and pump until he fully released inside of you.

A drop of sweat rolling down the side of his neck as he tried to catch his breath. His hands massaging your legs in comfort as neither one of you spoke for a few minutes. Both of you staring at each other as you gave him a lazy smile.

"Well I'm not hungry anymore." He joked with a light slap on your thigh making you giggle.

[cannedbeefaroni]

okok giving incel!edward his first blowjob, hed be so overstimulated n he cums so quickly, he just can’t help himself !!

fuck it i'm thinking about this carnally

(gender/sex neutral reader)

it wouldn't matter that he's creepy and sweaty and awkward, you'd need him. he's so jaded he can't even react appropriately to your advances, he just goes quiet and timid, acting as if you're just toying with him. he's so scared of being picked apart: being seen for the perverted freak he is. your first act of intimacy with him was simply laying your head in his lap, which horrified him. so suddenly he was sharing body heat with another person for what felt like the first time in his life. it wasn't intrusive or malicious. your touch was inviting and safe.

so soft. he couldn't think of anything else besides how soft you were. how gentle and sweet you were with him despite how grotesque he had become. his legs were shaking at the thought as his fingers gripped your hair at the scruff of your neck, not knowing what "gentle" even meant, but needing to hold you. his heart stops, hearing you whimper at his grip on you, worried he's done something horribly wrong. though he expects you to pull away, you bury your face into his lap, feeling how his cock hardens in excitement from such simple touches. He doesn’t know if you’re even aware of what you’re doing, until your mouth brushes up over his clothed cock.

It might be way too forward, but he starts quickly undoing his belt with shaky hands. As he unbuttons his pants, yanking them down, he notices you mouth agape as you pull back, staring as he shyly pulls his hard cock out of his boxers.

Yeah? This what you want? he asks, trying to have an air of dominance in his tone, but ultimately sounding as if he’s pleading for you, but you don’t mind, as you wrap your fingers around his dick, replacing his hand with yours.

He’s freaking out internally, fully aware of the fact that you’re the first person to ever touch him like this. Suddenly, he worries if he smells, or if he was being too forward in exposing himself to you. Wincing, he whines as you grip his cock especially tightly. He throws his head back, ashamed in knowing he shouldn’t like this type of pain. His stomach does a backflip as your mouth hangs open, drawing your tongue out as you tease the tip of his cock.

He feels disgusted, as every part of his body knows his dick is repulsive. That probably no one deserved to see it, let alone put their mouth on it. It twitched and throbbed from the gentle torture. As your lips wrap around his tip, something consumes him, and he grabs your hair, thrusting deep into your mouth on instinct. As you gag, he lets go, horrified. He apologizes profusely, knowing he just ruined everything, but he’s shocked when you grab his hand, guiding it back to your hair, as you push your head back down on his cock.

Please, please, please, please, please, he whispers through sharp breaths.

it makes him want to cry: the way you swallow him hole. devouring him as if it gets you off as it does him. he can't look you in the eyes as you stare up at him as if what you were doing was innocent. you pushed him deep into your throat, reaching his base. he gasps loudly, throwing his head back as he thrusts hard. after only a few slow pumps, he's already exploding for you. he freaks out, pulling his cock out, but it's too late, as he accidentally cums all over your face. his orgasm is so intense, it almost hurts. even after it spurting across your face, his tip is still leaking as he grips his cock tightly.

I'm so sorry, he sobs, feeling the shame settle in.

please, hold me, you whine as you pull your head back up to his level. he holds you are your waist tightly, as you crawl into his lap. you wipe your face with the back of your hand before feeling him inching closer. with a shove, his lips press against yours in an attempted kiss. you accept it, kissing him back.

[fanofurfics]

V-Day 💗

A Bucky Barnes Fic

Pairing: Bucky and FemReader

Content warnings: Pure self-indulgent fluff, alcohol. Minimal use of Y/N.

Word Count: 1664

A/N: So I did it. I decided to try my hand at my first Fanfic and decided I’d write and share it today for Valentine’s Day. This was written in the span of about an hour and minimal edits, so any and all mistakes are mine. Please be gentle with me 🫣 I also can’t stress enough this is purely self-indulgent fluff with our boy Bucky ‘cause that’s what I want today.

You had just gotten off of work and it had been a rough day. Being bombarded by the decorations, flowers, cards. Coworkers talking about where they and their date were going tonight inevitably asking what you were doing. And you were doing nothing. No date, no romantic night in, hell, no obligatory Valentine’s Day sex. When someone would “awe” or pout, you assured them it was fine - you were fine. But now without work to keep you busy, you really didn’t feel like doing nothing at home all alone. Luckily there was a bar right around the corner.

By the time you finished your first drink, you had started to rethink your decision. More and more couples filtered in, though you were sure it would be the same just about anywhere tonight. You started to really feel alone. You were doing another visual sweep of the room when you noticed a man walk through the doors. His deep set bright blue eyes stood out first. His strong brow and the scruff on his face kept you looking longer. You had always liked a man in leather. You catch yourself nearly drooling and spin back around towards the bar hoping he didn’t notice you clearly noticing him.

You go to take a drink and remember it’s empty. Just as you reach out to wave down the bartender, the man takes a seat at the bar, leaving just one chair between you, and calls out to the bartender as well just as she’s walking over.

”Sorry. Ladies first” the blue eyed lone man said.

“Thanks.” You smile. Maybe it's just because you’re feeling a little lonely tonight but that small act of chivalry makes you blush.

It isn’t long after you order your drink that another man comes to approach you with his scantily clad date in tow. “Hey, do you think you could scoot over so my girlfriend and I can sit at the bar?” You fight the urge to roll your eyes but smile and nod. “Sure.” You look to both empty seats next to you and before you can make the move yourself, the blue eyed gentleman reaches beside him and pulls out the chair next to him without taking his eye off his whisky in hand. You take it as an invitation, sliding your drink towards him and scooting over.

“Thanks.” You settle in, grabbing your drink to swirl the ice. “They should’ve got here earlier if they wanted their choice of seats.” You grumble just loud enough under your breath that he hears it and snickers before he takes another drink. His reaction is enough for you to decide to make a little small talk with him. You’re sure the bartender would like it if you found someone else to talk to tonight.

“Thanks for the seat. I’m Y/N.” You hold out your hand to the man next to you and he takes it, giving you a firm but gentle shake.

”Bucky.”

”Bucky.” You smile to yourself.

“What?”

“Nothing. I just don’t think I’ve met anyone with that name before.” You hope you haven’t already pissed him off by saying something stupid.

”Ah. Well now you have.” He gives a polite smile and goes back to watching the tv behind the bar.

After a few minutes had passed, all you could think about was this guy Bucky. It had been a long time since anyone had captured your attention like this. He was tall, had dark hair, and was extremely handsome. He was quiet, and came off broody, but had been polite to you so far. Sure, you had resigned to do nothing tonight, and maybe it was the drinks but now you didn’t feel all that much like being alone. Unless maybe it was with Bucky. You figured what did you have to lose? If you didn’t hit it off you’d be right back where you are now.

You turn in your chair to face him. ”Have you looked around at everyone here tonight? Most of them have been looking at their phones all night.” He slowly turned his gaze to you first to make sure you were talking to him. You looked at him, eyebrow raised and waiting for some kind of answer. The more seconds that passed, you were sure he would say nothing and just go back to his drink. Fair enough.

He looked around him then turned back to you. “I did notice. Must be pretty crappy dates if they can’t even give each other their attention for a few hours.”

He didn’t completely dismiss you! Great! The two of you continue to make small talk and discuss how sad it is that today people are so in tune with everything around them except those immediately near them. You both start listing off other things one could be doing than wasting time and money out with someone when you’re barely going to connect with them.

You’re really enjoying the conversation and as far as you can tell, he is too. You decide to get a little more personal. “So, did your date stand you up?” He’s staring straight ahead as he takes a swig. Maybe you crossed a sensitive line.

”No” is all he says. You can’t help but think you’ve hit a nerve, but you’re enjoying his company so much you have to try and save this.

”Well that’s good. I wouldn’t want to ask out some guy who was feeling vulnerable.”

Bucky choked a bit on his whisky, then looked at you and cocked his head.

You decided to ask before you lost your nerve.

“How would you feel about being Valentines for the evening? Maybe go play some pool or something?”

Bucky looked around the bar but before he could say anything you added. “There’s a place down the street. It's another bar. They serve whisky.” A small smile creeps up Bucky’s lips. He downs his drink and stands to help you out of your seat. “Shall we then?”

The second bar was crowded as well, but luckily you two were able to secure a pool table and had played game after game. In between rounds, you would put music on the jukebox hoping to hear your song between the long list others had played.

Conversation was easy between you too. He obviously wasn’t the most talkative of people but he was funny, sarcastic. And he was also incredibly sweet. The entire time he had gotten you your drinks and even insisted on paying for them. He’d hold your pool stick for you when you went to the bathroom. There was even a moment when he was taking his shot that he noticed some guy coming on to you and not getting the hint that you weren't interested. Bucky walked right up and put himself between you and the inebriated man. “We got a problem?” Bucky asked. The way this man could stare daggers at people was terrifying. And, a little exciting if you were being honest.

The drunken fool decided to push him in the chest and Bucky didn’t even budge. This infuriated the guy who then took a swing at Bucky, who caught his fist in his left hand and with the slightest squeeze, the man was on his knees. “Okay! Okay! Okay! Ow ow ow!” The drunken fool stumbled out of the bar with his tail between his legs after that.

The hours flew and before you knew it, it was last call and you two were the only ones left in the bar. You realized you had had so much fun you forgot about work in the morning. Begrudgingly you decide to call it a night. “Hey Bucky, I’ve had a really great time, but I should probably get going.” You walked over to grab your jacket off of the chair.

”Hold on.” Bucky put up a hand and then dug out a dollar from his pocket as he went to the jukebox. An old Billie Holiday song comes on and as he walks up to you, he extends his right hand. “May I have this dance?”

You can’t hide the grin that beams from your face and he smiles back. The two of you stand there in the middle of the empty bar and begin to sway back and forth in each other's arms. One hand in yours, the other on the small of your back, you feel yourself begin to melt for this man. He pulls you just the slightest bit closer and rests his face against yours. You had been on dates and had flings recently, but nothing with them had ever felt this intimate. This correct. Your heart breaks just a little as the song ends. You wish you could stay in this moment forever. You’re barely able to tear yourself apart from him, but do. Bucky grabs your coat and helps slip it over your shoulders.

“May I walk you home?” Bucky asks as he holds open the exit door.

”Please.” You don’t see it, but he is grinning now too.

The four block walk goes by too quickly and soon you’re on the steps leading up to your apartment building. You’re about to say something but Bucky beats you to it. “Thanks for the great time, doll. This was the best Valentine’s Day I’ve had in a long, long time.”

“Me too” you admit. “And Bucky,… You were the perfect gentleman.”

He scoffs at your remark. Bucky gently grabs your hand, bringing it to his lips giving you a tender kiss. “Goodnight.” Before he can let go, you turn your hand to grab his. “Wait.” You’re nervous, but would beat yourself up if you didn’t take the chance. You hadn’t hit it off like this with someone so quickly. “Would you…would you like to come in?”

Bucky gives the smallest smile and thinks about it. He shakes his head. “Next time, doll.” He kissed your hand once more. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

Closing the door behind you, you couldn’t help but do a giddy dance before making your way to your apartment and climbing into your bed to dream, no doubt, about your darling Bucky.

[f10werfae]

Sugar Plum Princess

pairing: Lumberjack!Henry Cavill x Short!Shy!Wife

summary: Y/n feels a little under the weather after a snow day so Henry gives his sweet shy wife a taste of his special “medicine” (Major Dom Henry)

Disclaimer: Story is completely fictional and may contain inappropriate content

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated♥️

Lumberjack Masterlist, Full Masterlist, Henry Masterlist

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Bunny, what were ya doin’ out there? Shoulda be in here gettin’ warm with me” Henry grumbled helping his precious little wife strip out of her white winter suit, her giggles filling his ears every time he’d lightly spank her ass and jiggle it in his warm hands. “M’sorry never seen snow so thick before! Look, Look!” She squealed excitedly showing him the cute selfies she had taken with her snowman she’d named ‘Hen Bear’ after him.

“Don’t ya jus look adorable sweet pea? Gonna send these to me alright?” He smirked seeing how irresistible she looked, the fact that she was all his and his alone made his cock twitch. Y/n on the other hand had butterflies zooming in her stomach, feeling one of her husbands hands fondling her ass while the other was busy typing on her new phone.

“Really pretty?” She twinkled twirling on her toes, her hands holding onto his blue t-shirt, standing on her toes to nuzzle into his neck; the scruff of his beard scratching her ever so gently. “The prettiest baby” He cooed cupping the back of her head, throwing her phone onto the armchair at the corner of their bedroom. “Now come on, get into bed before ya get a cold sweetpea” Clad in only a flimsy thong and a bra, Y/n found herself being smothered by cuddles and kisses once Henry had tucked them both into the mess of blankets; not that she was complaining she absolutely loved cuddles.

- - -

“Now what did I say about yesterday bunbun?” Henry asked setting down a cup of apple juice by the bed, Y/n’s tired eyes looking up at him lovingly as his fingers brushed over her face. “N-not to go out, but but, the snow s’pretty and I hadta” Y/n mumbled nuzzling herself into the comforters, causing Henry’s heart to crack itself open a tiny bit, his sugar babe was sick and he couldn’t do anything about it.

Earlier on in the wee hours of the morning Y/n had broken into a fever, one which Henry spotted when he turned her over to face him. At the start of their relationship Y/n had always asked that if she turned away from Henry while asleep, he was to turn her around and make sure he was cuddling her, or else as she said “I’ll be really angry and won’t talk to you ever again!” Which was a complete lie because when that did happen, Henry had acted cold as if he didn’t care, ultimately breaking sweet Y/n’s heart; leading him to snatch her up in his arms to show her how much he loved her in their beloved bedroom. “My sweet little wife, ya know you’re all mine right? No one else can have ya but me”

After helping her to take a sip of apple juice, Henry went to his side of the bed and was about to slip in. “Nuh-uh mister, y-you can get sick n’ I don’t wan’ you sick” Y/n squealed cornering herself to the edge of the bed, her legs kicking at Henry to keep him away from her. “No fucking kicking me honey” He grumbled grabbing onto each of her ankles, making her whimper and cower at his massive build. Using his sheer strength he dragged her to him, revealing her naked body, which felt hot to the touch; making Henry wince.

“B-but you’re gonna feel icky if ya come near me H-Hen”

“I don’t give a fuck sugar, you’re my little sugar plum n’ if I wanna cuddle on ya then I will. Do you not want me anymore?” Henry taunted, using his manipulative tone, seeing his bunbun’s mouth fall open and head shake rapidly from

side to side before she let out a loud sob. “O-ow” She whimpered holding onto her head due to the migraines, Henry scoffed before bending down and cradling her head to his chest, “S’okay baby, sometimes your brain is all foggy cause ya too precious, and ya need your husband to clear it”

His hands reached down and felt her hot wet juices start to leak out of her, her second set of lips warm and slick for him. “w-what are you doing b-bear? M’still feelin’ icky” She whined, her arms around his shoulders, her glossy eyes peering into his as his lips softly rubbed themselves against hers; to a point where she had taken initiative and let her tongue run over his lips to coax his out.

“Thought you still felt icky baby?” Henry pulled away, chuckling when he felt her legs lock around his waist to keep him closer, soft whines leaving her as she wiggled in his grasp. “S-stop teasing and bein’ a meanie Hen! W-want you to make the fogginess go away” She whimpered, her cheeks hot to touch along with the rest of her body.

“Course honey, I know jus’ how to make it go away, jus’ let daddy have some of his sweet treat, s’that okay bunbun?” He whispered nudging his nose against hers cutely, his heart clenching when she wrinkled her nose and nodded giddily. “Y-ya promise it’ll work?”

She asked worried, “Have I ever lied to ya sugar?”

“N-no”

Not that she knew anyway.

“S’okay baby, c’mere” Henry grunted, both of them were on their sides facing each other, his hand lifting her leg up whilst his cock slipped through her pussy lips, coating itself in all her goodness. “I-is it bad? Am-am I gonna havta see a doctor?” She asked nervously in between not so subtle moans, her hole was practically clenching around nothing.

“After a’ treat your pussy baby, you won’t need a doctor, promise” Henry smirked fitting his cock into her wet warm fuckhole, her hands around his torso, while his groped and massaged her ass like the rough lumberjack he was. “Let me taste those lips baby, stick that tongue out for me too bunny” His open mouth clamping on top of hers, his spit mixing in with her between their lips as she sucked on his tongue.

Pulling their lips apart, her lips were still wrapped around his tongue, sucking on it as if it was her favourite strawberry sucker, her eyes as wide as saucers as she looked up at him as if he was the most amazing thing in the world. “Do ya want some of my medicine baby, promise it’ll make all the ickiness go away” “Mhm wan’ it all da- Hen” She said wide eyed nodding her head,

“Open wide wifey, n’ swallow” He said bringing one hand to cup her jaw, her mouth forming a circle as he spat into his lewdly, feeling his lover’s hole clench at the nickname he called her. After all these months she still found herself getting giddy snd excited anytime he’d call her his wife, “m’ your wife n’ you’re my husband” She’d say at least once a day, almost as if she couldn’t believe it.

Swallowing his saliva readily, Y/n’s eyes had rolled to the back of her head as Henry’s thrusts were deeper and slower, the nestle of curls on his cock itching her clit to a point of rawness, his balls slapping her like it was his hand. “Good girl, gon’ make ya all better honey, promise” He moaned feeling her lips all over his neck, her tongue lazily drawing over it letting it shine with her spit.

“L-love you s-so much, f-feels fuzzy n’ warm” Y/n hiccuped, her own fingers reaching down to hold her lips wider open, letting Henry’s thumb press down directly onto her swollen nub, “Oh- fuck” She gasped while his thumb rubbed rougher circles on her precious sensitive button, “language sugar” He snarked spitting onto her bouncing breasts, licking them up as his thrusts didn’t let down once.

“Fuck baby your tits are so pretty, your nipples beggin’ to be sucked on” He mocked laughing slightly, his lips surrounding a hardened bud while she pressed her tits smothering his face, letting him motorboat her soft pillows; fuck was he in love with his gorgeous wife, n’ he couldn’t help but feel proud at how easy it was for him to get her.

“Imagine these fleshy tits full of milk, all swollen and ready” His mouth greedily moved between each breast, her voice whining and whimpering at each of his filthy words. “N-nothin but my little hole, always so needy and wantin’ attention, but it’s okay baby, i’ll give ya everything ya need” He groaned looking straight back at her, his shaft nearly giving in with each clench and push, her tongue laying out with her eyes rolling back; her lips mumbling incoherent words , “Wan’ it so bad” “m’just your hole b-bear” “W-would you t-take

my milk too, n-not just my hole?” She screamed finally creaming around his shaft, her legs kicking involuntarily while her orgasm rocked through her body. His lips raining kisses all over her face and her lips, her tongue dominating over his lazily as she seemed desperate to taste him.

“I’d take your milk just like this sugar” He moaned gently pulling out, finding the strength to straddle and hover over her torso, his thick paws pushing her tits together dirtily as his length laid in the valley between them. Y/n’s hair was splayed over the pillows majestically, her face dazed and smiley as her tongue gave kitty licks to the head of his shaft, sweat visibly dripping down her face. “W-what else?” She asked.

“I’d fuck your tits everyday bun, treat it like a second pussy, your milk squirting all over me n’ you; letting me taste your sweet treasure that ya made” His balls suddenly felt heavier, his breaths deepening each time he’d thrust and his shaft would go straight into his wife’s mouth. Her breasts surrounding him like a blanket, causing more of his “medicine” to spurt onto her gorgeous face.

“y-yummy” She whispered picking some up with her finger and licking it lewdly, Henry’s lips smashing onto hers affectionately, not caring that he was tasting himself as he licked her face clean and spat it onto her waiting tongue. “W-will I still need the doctor?”

“No honey, you’ll be alright, m’sure of it” He whispered kissing her forehead, feeling her temperature, thankfully their activities had caused her fever to break; all thanks to him. “Y-you love me right?” She asked out of the blue, her fingers twiddling with his beard shyly,

“What sorta question is that? course I do”

“W-well earlier ya didn’t say it back!” She whimpered kissing his chest softly, all over the bite marks she left. “M’sorry sugar plum, swear just forgot, your pussy is jus’ too good” He smirked causing her to giggle and hit his chest, his fingers rubbing over her stomach gently, taking the extra bit of skin in his hands and bending down to kiss and love on it. “I love you so so much” He whispered against her stomach, the part he knew she was most insecure about, but if anything he just saw it as more of her to love. His sugar plum princess.

———

Library blog @f10werfaes-cosy-collection

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