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coopswhxre · 4 months

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Word's Mean Nothin'

Boyd Crowder x (Fem)Reader

Word Count: 3,224

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie

Synopsis: Boyd confesses his feelings for you and things get a little heated.

This is my first time writing anything for tumblr, so please be nice XD

It had been three weeks since your sister Ava allowed Boyd Crowder to stay in the attic of the home you both shared. He had kept to himself, spending his days reading the Bible and listening to the radio. Frankly, you preferred it that way; seeing his smug face was the last thing you wanted after all the trouble he'd brought upon Ava.

On a quiet Sunday afternoon, you decided to enjoy your coffee on the porch, relishing the crisp air, only to be startled by Boyd sitting on the bench by the door, his expression one of deep thought.

With a sigh, you considered him for a moment before turning to go back inside.

"Y/N," his voice was low as he called out your name, his gaze fixed on the woods beyond your property. "Would you sit with me?"

You paused, your foot hovering over the threshold. "Why should I?"

"Please…" His eyes met yours—wide, hazel, and piercing. To your surprise, they seemed to shimmer with what looked like genuine remorse.

"You've got two minutes, Crowder," you conceded, walking over to take the rocking chair opposite him.

You raised an eyebrow, arms crossed defensively as you leaned back. "Well, I ain't got all night, Boyd."

"I've been thinkin' 'bout these past few weeks, what my daddy did to your sister… to you." He gestured towards your shoulder, where a bullet from his father, Bo, had grazed you, sending a chill of remembered pain through you. "I know I can't undo what happened or clear away the bad blood between us, but I need you to know, I'm sorry."

Your gaze hardened, not quite ready to accept his apology, yet you couldn't help but notice the earnestness in his tone—something you hadn't expected from Boyd Crowder. The silence lingered for a moment, punctuated only by the distant calls of evening birds and the soft creak of the rocking chair beneath you.

"Why now, Boyd?" you finally asked, your voice a mix of curiosity and skepticism. "What's changed?"

Boyd sighed, looking down at his hands before meeting your eyes again. "I've had a lot of time to think, up there in that attic. 'Bout my life, the choices I've made, the folks I've hurt." He paused, his voice faltering slightly. "I've realized if I keep goin' down this path, I'll end up all alone. I don't want that. Not anymore."

You watched him, trying to decipher if this was another one of his manipulations. Boyd was known for his silver tongue, and trust was not something easily given, especially to a man like him. Yet, there was something different this time, a vulnerability you hadn't seen before.

"And what 'bout Ava?" you pressed, the concern for your sister surfacing. "What assurances do I have that you won’t put her—or me—in danger again?"

Boyd nodded, understanding the weight of your question. "I can't give you guarantees, Y/N. All I can offer is my word to do better. I wanna protect Ava, not cause her more pain. I hope, in time, you'll see that."

You remained silent, mulling over his words. The evening chill began to seep through your clothes, reminding you of the fading light.

"Time'll tell, Boyd," you finally said, standing up from the rocking chair. "Words mean nothin' without action. You better prove yourself, or you're out."

As you lay in bed that night, the conversation with Boyd replayed endlessly in your mind. His voice, earnest and somber, seemed genuinely filled with regret—a side of him you hadn't seen before. But deep down, you suspected Ava was his true motivation. Boyd had always harbored a soft spot for her, even during her marriage to his brother.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the radio playing upstairs, its volume carrying through the quiet house. With a muttered curse, you threw off the covers and made your way to the attic to tell Boyd to turn it down.

Reaching the attic door, you knocked sharply before entering. The sight that greeted you made you gasp—Boyd, just out of the shower, clad only in a towel around his waist, his skin damp and his hair slicked back. For a moment, you faltered, taken aback by the stark contrast between his usual rugged demeanor and the vulnerability he now displayed.

"Boyd, the music—it’s too loud," you said, striving to keep your voice steady despite the distraction.

"Oh, sorry bout that," Boyd replied, his tone apologetic as he reached for the radio, turning it down immediately. "Didn’t realize it was carrying through the house."

You nodded, your eyes inadvertently scanning the sparse, dimly lit attic. It was clear he lived simply here, with just a few personal items. The vulnerability of his living situation, combined with the unexpected intimacy of the moment, softened your stance just slightly.

"Thanks," you added, pausing at the doorway. "And Boyd—about earlier… I’m thinking about what you said."

Boyd’s eyes met yours, hopeful yet cautious. "I appreciate that, Y/N. Really, I do."

You were already halfway out the door when Boyd's voice halted your steps. "Wait, Y/N," he called, his tone hesitant yet earnest. You paused, your hand on the door frame, and turned back to face him.

"I just… If you've got a minute, I'd like to say a bit more," he said, stepping closer but keeping a respectful distance. The soft light from the single bulb overhead cast shadows that played across his features.

You sighed, your initial irritation fading into a cautious curiosity. "Alright, Boyd. What is it?" you asked, leaning against the door frame.

He took a deep breath, searching for his words - eyes searching the dimly lit attic before settling back on you. The air was thick with tension, his usual confident demeanor replaced by something more tentative. "I know this ain't the time or place, and maybe it's not my place to say, but…" His voice trailed off as he took a cautious step closer, his expression earnest.

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms defensively. "Boyd, if you've got something to say, just say it."

He took a deep breath, his gaze fixed on you. "It's just… these past weeks, being here, seeing how you handle everything… it’s made me realize a lot more than just my mistakes." He paused, swallowing hard. "I’ve come to… care for you, Y/N. More than I should, given everything."

The confession hung between you, startling in its sincerity. Boyd looked vulnerable, almost afraid of how you might respond. "I know I don't deserve a chance, not with my history… but if you'd ever think it possible—"

"Boyd, I—" You started, your mind racing with conflicting emotions.

He stepped forward, closing the gap slightly, his presence overwhelming. "I know it's a lot to ask. I don't even know what I’m asking for. Just… don’t shut me out. Please."

The intensity in his eyes, the raw honesty in his voice, it broke through your defenses in a way you hadn't anticipated. You were about to speak, to chastise him or perhaps to dismiss his words, when impulsively, Boyd leaned in, his hesitation melting away in the moment.

His lips met yours, and for a brief second, the world seemed to stop. The kiss was tentative at first, questioning, as if he was still seeking permission. But as you stood frozen, surprised by your own stillness, something shifted. Maybe it was the isolation of the attic, the soft hum of the now-quiet radio, or the genuine remorse he had shown earlier; whatever it was, you found yourself not pulling away.

The kiss deepened slightly, Boyd's lips firm yet cautious. His hand, tentative at first, found its way to the small of your back, pulling you slightly closer. The warmth of his body contrasted sharply with the cool air of the attic, and you could feel the dampness of his hair, the remnants of his shower, as his fingers gently brushed against your cheek.

The softness of the moment, the gentle pressure of his lips against yours, was disarming. It wasn't rushed or fraught with the intensity of passion often depicted in stories; rather, it was a slow burn, a flicker of something new.

As Boyd finally pulled away, the slight catch in his breath was audible in the quiet of the attic. His eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of regret or rejection. What he found instead was confusion.

Boyd's gaze was unwavering, his brow furrowed slightly as if he was trying to read your thoughts.

"I… I'm sorry if that was too much," he whispered. "I just needed you to know, to really know, how I feel."

The weight of his confession, the unexpected intimacy of the kiss, left you silent for a moment. You were still processing, still trying to align this new Boyd with the one you had known, always calculating, always a step ahead.

His eyes held yours, searching for a sign of how you might react next. The tension was palpable, a mix of anticipation and fear. You took a moment, your own confusion swirling with the unexpected emotions stirred by the kiss.

After what felt like an eternity, you made your decision. Stepping forward, closing the gap Boyd had just created, you reached up to touch his face gently, the touch sent a shiver down your spine. Boyd looked at you, his eyes wide.

Without saying a word, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his again. This time, there was a certainty in your movement, a decision made. Boyd responded almost immediately, his hands moving to your waist as you wrapped your arms around his neck. The kiss deepened, and you invited him further, parting your lips.

Boyd's response was immediate and intense. His tongue met yours, exploring softly, cautiously at first, then with growing confidence as you responded in kind. His fingers pressed into your waist, pulling you flush against his warm chest. The heat from his body enveloped you.

The world outside seemed to fade away as the kiss grew more passionate. You could feel Boyd's heart racing just as fast as yours, his breath mingling with yours, creating a rhythm that felt both exhilarating and terrifying. The soft hum of the radio now seemed like a distant memory, replaced by the sound of your joint breathing and the occasional creak of the attic floor beneath you.

As the kiss finally broke, you both stood there, forehead against forehead, trying to catch your breath. Boyd's hands remained on your waist, not willing to let go just yet, and you made no move to step back.

Boyd finally spoke, his voice husky and low. "Y/N, I—"

"Shh," you whispered, placing a finger on his lips. "Don't. We don’t need words right now."

As the tension in the room shifted from apprehensive to charged, you took Boyd's hand. The air in the attic felt thick, almost tangible with the turn of emotions. Leading him to his bed, you were acutely aware of every sound—the slight creak of the floorboards, the distant call of the night, and the rustle of the towel as it shifted against Boyd's form.

You sat down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under your weight. The soft light from the single bulb cast shadows that danced on the walls, adding to the intimacy of the moment. You could see the outline of Boyd's form under the towel, the tension in his body, and the undeniable evidence of his desire.

Boyd stood before you, his breathing deep and uneven.

You reached up, your fingers gently touching the edge of the towel at his waist. Your eyes met, and there was a silent question in yours, a pause as you gave him a moment to decide.

Boyd's hand covered yours, his grip firm yet gentle. He nodded slightly, a wordless agreement, a surrender to the moment and to whatever it might bring. You pulled gently, and the towel fell away, leaving Boyd exposed.

You let out a soft gasp, your eyes widening in both surprise and desire as you took in the sight of him. His swollen tip, coated in glistening precum, called out to you and you couldn't resist. Your mouth watered with anticipation as you enveloped his length with your lips, savoring the velvety texture against your tongue. He groaned and grasped tightly onto your hair as he pushed himself deeper into your mouth, never taking his piercing gaze off of yours.

You moaned as his hand guided your movements, taking him in deeper and savoring the feeling of being completely filled by him. The sound of your moans vibrating around him was like a symphony to his ears until he suddenly let go, creating a soft popping noise as your lips released his member.

"Damn, Y/N," he gasped. "If you keep that up, I won't be able to return the favor." He laughed hoarsely, that toothy grin of his shining in the dim light before his expression turned dark. "Lie back, baby." The intense heat between your legs threatened to consume you at his words, and you couldn't help but melt at the way the word ‘baby’ rolled off his tongue.

You followed his instructions, shifting towards the head of the bed and easing yourself onto the soft pillows. He moved over you, taking in the sight of your body spread out beneath him, his arousal pressing against your thigh through the thin fabric of your pajama shorts.

His lips trailed down your neck, his warm breath sending shivers across your skin as he pressed himself against your thigh. You let out a gasp as he tugged at the neckline of your singlet, exposing one of your erect nipples. His tongue darted out to flick at the sensitive peak before taking it into his mouth, gently sucking and nibbling.

"Boyd…" you moaned, overwhelmed. "please, more."

Sitting up on his knees between your open legs, Boyd’s fingers gripped the waistline of your shorts, slowly pulling them down. Your heart raced as you felt the cool air against your bare skin. He tossed you shorts aside, eyes filled with desire, as he took in the sight of your glistening cunt.

You clenched your hands in the sheets, your breath hitched as you eagerly awaited his next move. The anticipation was almost unbearable.

Boyd leaned in closer, his face just above your quivering core. You felt his breath against your most sensitive spot, making you squirm. His finger traced your outer lips, teasing the entrance of your heat.

And then, finally, he slipped a finger inside, pushing gently against your tight walls. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through your entire body that left you gasping for breath.

"Fuck, Y/N," His voice a mix of lust and awe. "You're so tight."

His fingers delved deeper into your core, twisting and curling to ignite a firestorm of sensations that sent shockwaves through your entire body. Your hips eagerly moved in rhythm with his movements, yearning for the release that felt so tantalizingly close.

As he worked his fingers, his lips met yours in a fiery kiss. His tongue matched the rhythm of his skilled digits inside of you.

Just when you thought you couldn't handle any more pleasure, he withdrew his fingers, leaving you longing for more.

He spat into his hand and slicked it over his pulsing member, preparing himself for you.

Your heart raced as he slowly positioned himself at your entrance, pausing to meet your eyes.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, your body begging for the connection that was moments away. And then, with a single, powerful thrust, he entered you, filling you completely.

A gasp escaped your lips, and a wave of pleasure washed over you as you held onto him tightly. Your inner muscles contracted around his length, drawing him in deeper.

Boyd let out a loud grunt, his teeth gritted and eyes squeezed shut as he adjusted to the tightness of your walls. His hands fisted the sheet on either side of your head as he paused for a moment, collecting himself.

Slowly, he began to move, setting a rhythm that sent jolts of pleasure coursing through both of you. You met his thrusts eagerly, your hips moving in tandem with his.

Your breaths became heavier, your bodies glistening with perspiration as the room filled with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and the occasional curse from Boyd.

Your hands gripped his back, nails digging deeply into his skin as you pulled him closer. The friction was exquisite, and you could feel the aching need building within you.

Boyd's eyes were locked onto yours, his face a mask of raw emotion. He leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a fervent kiss as he thrust deeper. You moaned into his mouth, your body responding to his every move.

Your climax was building, the pressure growing with each thrust. You could feel it, the tightening coil of pleasure, threatening to unravel. You dug your nails into his back, arching your hips to meet his. The sensation was too much, and you cried out as you peaked, your orgasm washing over you in waves.

Boyd watched you in awe as he continued to thrust into you. The sight of you in the throes of orgasm was more than he could take, and he quickly joined you, his body shuddering as he released deep within you, ropes of hot cum painting your walls white.

Your legs shook with the aftershocks of your orgasm as you melted into the bed. Boyd's weight rested on top of you, his face buried in your neck as he caught his breath.

You ran your hands through his hair, feeling the soft strands between your fingers. "That was…" you began, the words barely escaping your lips.

“Somethin’.” Boyd finished your sentence, his words muffled against your skin when a knock at the door made you both jump.

Boyd quickly rolled off you, grabbing the towel from the floor and wrapping it around his waist. You straightened yourself on the bed, pulling the sheets around you, heart still pounding.

Dear god, you'd forgotten all about your sister downstairs!

Boyd cracked open the door just enough to peek through, and Ava's voice floated in, laced with a hint of amusement. "Y'all planning on making that racket all night? Some of us have a busy day tomorrow," she teased, her tone light but carrying a knowing edge.

A sheepish grin spread across Boyd’s features. "Sorry, Ava," he called back through the slightly ajar door, his voice a mix of embarrassment and mirth. "We'll keep it down."

"Better," Ava replied, her voice now softened with laughter. "Just remember, thin walls in this old house."

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cupidscrule · 8 months

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BUNNY TRAP

Stepdad!Leon X Fem!Reader

Cw - p in v, daughter chasing after dad, stepcest, noncon(?) Unprotected

WRD- 1.5k

You always knew your dad was hot, total babe back in the 2000's ever since you were a kid your friends always gushed over him, and it was fair, always thought it was gross though. Like he's YOUR dad, stepdad yeah but he still raised you, sure he had a cute face, big arms, his pornstar tits were an add on. But he was Dad, nothin' more, But fuck the way he cups your cheek when your sad, hugs you, gives you that awkward Dad kiss. Just makes you yearn for him, which is wrong you know it's wrong but it's like that itch.

Your friends are always tellin' you how lucky you are, not only is Dad hot, he's nice y'know? Real good dad, picks you up everyday, gets you real nice things. Best guy honestly can see why Mom picked him!

"Hi kiddo, you wanted to check out that new place-?" Dad said opening your bedroom door, stupid fucken smile on his dumb hot face

'bury your face in my tits'

"Oh no -! It's okay- really I'm real tired"

'fuck me till I can't breathe'

"Huh- alright, come down soon dinners gonna be ready, and sorry Moms not home yet she said she'd be here in a few weeks 'k?"

'i wanna scream your name'

"Oh it's alright, and of course dad!"

With that he left, shutting the door halfway, dick move but it probably wasn't on purpose, the smell of his colone in the room, only imagining Dad stuff you up. God your disgusting, this is dad. Fourth something year old DAD, since when did you have these thoughts about him, as a kid sure you always thought he was cute 'ohhb I would totally date someone as big and strong as my Daddy!'

But it was LIKE, not actually him. But you can't stop thinkin' about him, wanting Dad to shove your face in the mattress pull on your hair, do the shit they do in pornos. Nasty thoughts, feeling gross and hot imagining all the shit you wanna do with the poor guy, as he just stood there not knowin' thinking your his innocent little daughter who could do no wrong! Oh no she would never have sex before marriage! Oh no my little girl doesn't even cuss!

Yeah right Dad, mhm. Actin' like in middle school my friends weren't blushing over you, whenever you walked in.

Fucken idiot, your little girls not pure, she's not good. She ain't innocent, hell she fantasizes about fucken you every day. It doesn't matter, nothings ever gonna come of this right? Just walk downstairs, eat dinner with dad and go back in your room and sleep it off.

"Sweetiee you finnaly came, how was your day?" Dad says sitting across from you, he didn't even cook. Fucken liar this was clearly some bullshit from a 4 star restaurant he just put on a plate. "Oh it's fine, nothin' much." You say staring at the table, trying to distract yourself from him, how he smells, how he sits, how he opens his mouth, the way he moves his bangs out of his dumb face, his breath. The intoxicating feeling of just bein' near him now.

"Are you okay?"

"Why'd you ask that? You know I'm always fine-" you say in response, playing with your fingers, avoiding his gaze. God feels like a crush in primary school, messin' up words and giggling to your friends about the fastest guy. "You just don't seem like yourselfer Hun, you can always talk to me you know that?" He says, feeling his eyes on you, not in a creepy way more an endearing way which somehow made your entire situation worse. "yeah- I know, don't worry it's fine!" You mumble, lookin' up at him, god he really was dreamy, just wanting him to- NO no more fantasy's.

You finish up, so does he. He just gives you that concerned Dad look before you get up and run back up the stairs like a bitch and lock yourself in your room, typing into Google

'how to stop liking your dad'

'is it normal to have a crush on your dad'

'is it illegal to fuck your step dad'

Jesus Christ your search history, just laying on your side in your bed. Thighs squeezed together tryna' stop thinking about dad, you've seen him shirtless before. Yeah you felt a little hot in your core before, anytime he hugged you you felt so- just so warm. Not the lovey Awee dad and daughter warm, more like if your boyfriend hugged you nice and tight! Feels good, feels warm and fuzzy, pit in your stomach that can only be filled by one thing.

Tossin' and turnin' it's only 6:00pm shit, Dad's still downstairs probobly watching some old movie, he really likes thoughs for some reason, and westerns it's kinda creepy but your the one who wants to fuck him so you really can't be judging. your thoughts are too much to bare, a girl can only last so long on the edge, panties soaked thinking about shit, and hell when you can actually recreate what you want, Nothing's stopping you. Other then ethics but who even cares anymore, walking downstairs to Dear ol' Daddy, bingo.

"Mm- Dad-? Can I talk to you?" You mutter walking up behind the sofa he's laying in, playing with your fingers, how do even address this like,

'Oh yeah dad! Can you just bend your daughter over and fuck her till she's blubbering nonsense, you raised her since she was seven but y'know !!'

No.

"Hm, yeah of course, what's the problem bunny?" He says sitting up, glancing behind him to your miserable face, little frown on your lips. He raises a brow seeing your face, you felt all fuzzy feeling your throat get dry, the hell were you supposed to do?

"Uh Dad, can- can you come upstairs" you mutter looking at him, feeling your chest get heavy. Of course dear Daddy doesn't wanna disappoint you so he gets up and walks over to ya

"What's wrong, Hun?" He says, so sweetly fuck. Looken' all concerned for you, just fall into his chest, even though Dad was in shape he had fatass boobs, real nice to put your face in whenever he hugged ya. Just like always as a concerted Daddy does he puts an arm around you, pulling you nice and tight, "Baby?" He says in that same voice, pullin' your face away from his body, looking down at you.

"Can- can we just sit down" you say grabbing his hand forcefully and leading him to the nice leather sofa, you didn't know much about Mom but she really liked expensive shit and this was the only thing at home she bought..

You push him onto his back, his head resting on the arm, he looked kinda confused, like a puppy! You crawl over on top on him, ass rested on his lower pelvis. "Hey Bunny this is a little- whats wrong?" Dad says trying to carefully lift you off of him, awe stupid Daddy actin' like you're just gonna listen to him

"Dad just let me do this- please, you love me right?" You say looking at him in the eyes, pout on your stupid lips, he just nods slowly as a response. Unzippin' his jeans, wow this really is a shitty porno plot.

'Cute stepdaughter seduces and fucks her Dad while Mom isn't home!'

Jesus Christ you fucking creep.

With his pants open pulling out is fat cock, he wasn't hard which kinda hurt, you were being all cute and all dad did was just sit and stare in shock. Like sure you were gropen him and stuff but he could put some effort in it? Whatever doesn't matter-? You sit on his thighs pulling off your night pants, your panties were already wet from earlier, sadly it seemed Dad didn't really wanna reinact your fantasy so you gotta do all the work, flicking your garments to the side, crawling back onto him. Placing your hips over his Dick, and taking it in, feeling his tip touch your cervix "Mm- fuck-" you murmer, taking a second before getting used to it, slowly moving your hips back and forth, feeling ever little movement. It was euphoric, hands on his chest, looking at his face he looked like he was trying to not enjoy it, but you could tell he was. You felt his breath get heavier anytime you went faster, such a good boy.

His fat dick bruising your womb, your walls squeezing against him, you could hear Dad muttering curse words under his breath, made you feel kinda better about this whole thing. Going to your high and getting that numbing feeling, stomach felt warm, brain all fuzzy and messy collapsing onto him, feeling that warm stuff leaking out of you, pulling yourself off Dad, laying on his chest, glancing up at him, seeing his flushed and disturbed face, awe it was so cute!

He probably felt horrible but you felt amazing, fuck best experience. Putting your arms aside his

"I love you Dad.." you spout into his shirt

"Your Mother can't hear about this B-bunny.." he replies, putting one of arms on your back, you could feel his chest go up and down so cute.

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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

Hi! so i've kinda had the worst past couple of days in a long time and I have a joel request of him just trying to cheer you up in his own grumpy old man way where its not really working but he's trying his best + maybe some Ellie enjoying how shit he is at it. Thank you :)

AN | Joel being soft for reader and only reader 🥰

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language, Mention of Injury (mild, nondescript but mentions blood)

Word Count | 2.2k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel Miller was a hard man. The years and circumstances had done that to him. Every year, with every little thing that had happened he'd retreated further into himself and became a shadow of himself.

But then had slowly he'd come more out of his shell, more alive again. He'd never again be the same man from before the Outbreak, but he could be happy again. It was something he'd thought was impossible but he was gradually beginning to believe was obtainable. It had all started with Ellie; he might have been her savior but he was every bit her savior as well.

And there was you. You had caused him to feel a hundred thousand emotions he thought he'd long buried and forgotten. He just wasn't quite sure how to approach that just yet. But he did what he could and tried to show his affection in his very own Joel way.

Ellie might have teased him about it, but he did his best. Even if you didn't notice, that was okay. He just wanted to make sure you were happy and to put a smile on your face.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

But right now there was no smile on your face. You'd gotten to the cafeteria and were on the hunt for some cookies. You were definitely in the midst of some pms and the cravings had hit. All you wanted now was something sweet. Your tummy had decided that it was chocolate chip cookies you were after.

Unfortunately, there weren't any to be found. You had been positive that Vickie had baked some but they were either nonexistent or already all gone. You snooped around the counter and eventually found an empty tray that had suspiciously cookie-like crumbs on it.

"Animals," you sighed softly. People always descended on sweets first. You should have gone in the morning rather than waiting for the afternoon, "not a single cookie left."

You felt prickling at the back of your eyes, which you knew, realistically, was a dramatic reaction. But hey - hormones were weird and cravings happened.

Joel happened to walk in and noticed you staring dismally at the empty counter. A deep frown was tugging on your features, setting your mouth in a pretty little pout. He loathed seeing you upset. He was at your side in an instant.

"Everything alright?"

"No - yes," you shrugged as you turned to look at him. He still managed to make you weak in the knees despite how often you'd seen him. He was handsome in a roguish way and he'd always been kind to you, "its nothing."

"Don't look like nothin'," of course he wasn't going to let it go. You knew him better than that by now, "you look upset."

"It's noth - it's silly and you're going to laugh at me," your face burned under his intense gaze; you felt so vulnerable.

"Never," and that was a promise.

"I just really wanted some chocolate chip cookies," you confessed, so quietly that he almost wasn't sure he'd heard you. Then you noticed the way the corner of his mouth twitched into a small smile, "I know it's stupid! It's just that I've got pms and it's making me want something sweet. I was looking forward to some cookies."

"Oh," you didn't have your cookies and were upset. By proxy, Joel was now upset. His brows furrowed as a heavy sigh escaped your lips, "I'm sorry they didn't have your cookies. And that you're dealing with your…monthly stuff."

"Yeah," you sighed softly, "me too. But I'll just find something else. Thanks for listening to me complain."

"It ain't complaining," he hesitantly reached over and gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. You tried - unsuccessfully - to ignore the tingles that surged through your veins, "I'm sure you'll find something sweet."

"Thanks Joel," you offered him a small smile, "you're very kind."

You brushed past him, giving a last little parting wave as you headed outside. Joel watched you go, a plan already forming in his mind.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was evening before you returned home, deciding that it was time for a hot shower and then into bed with a book. You were starting to feel crummy and hoped this would help.

But when you got home, you were greeted by a delicious smell that made you stop in your tracks. You hadn't cooked or baked anything…you'd guard went up as you walked into the kitchen.

On the table there was a huge, fresh plate of cookies. You couldn't hold back your squeal of delight as you padded over to them and eagerly grabbed one and stuffed it into your mouth. The idea that it could have been a trap hadn't even crossed your kind.

There was no note or anything, but you knew exactly who these were from.

Joel Miller.

Your heart felt it could burst from sheer happiness. You were going to find later and thank him; this was one of the nicest things anyone had done for you in a long time.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It had been a few weeks since Joel had made you cookies. You still hadn't managed to properly thank him; every time you saw him he appeared to be busy or disappeared within the blink of an eye.

One day you'd do something special for him.

That day just wasn't going to be today. You were leaving the sheepish enclosure after feeding the small herd, as it was your designated day to do so. You'd been so preoccupied with playing with them that you weren't paying much attention to the closing of the gate.

Not until you have a piece of rogue wire scrape down your arm. A sound of surprise escaped your lips as you looked at your arm to find it bleeding.

"Oh," you stared at it until you heard a pair of hasty footsteps stop in front of you.

"What happened?" you looked up to find Joel watching you with concern etched all over his face. He reached for your wrist, hesitantly at first but when you didn't flinch away, he wrapped his fingers around your wrist and gently pulled your arm towards him, "you're bleeding."

"I scratched my arm," you looked towards the fence, as though realization suddenly dawned on you. You swore that your arm started to hurt even more, "it hurts."

"I know baby, I know," he didn't seem to have a clue as to what he had said but it was definitely not lost on you. You watched him intently, unable to contain the wild thumping of your heart as he looked you over, "let's go and this cleaned up, okay?"

"Okay," you agreed softly, trying to hold back your sniffles, "okay."

He reached for your hand on the opposite arm and tenderly took it in his hand, leading you over to his place. You'd been to his house before on several occasions but something about this felt so different.

Joel was quiet as he took you upstairs to the bathroom, motioning for you to sit on the side of the tub. He made quick work of getting all his supplies together and then patching up your wound. Not that it was much, it probably looked worse than it really was, but you appreciated him nonetheless.

"It might sting a little, okay?" He grabbed the alcohol and started to clean the scratch and you tried not to hiss at the pain but you knew it was written all over your face, "almost done. It'll feel better soon."

You nodded in understanding as he dabbed some ointment onto your arm before wrapping the wound up so it would stay clean. It was over before you knew it and you were almost sad that it was done. That meant his hands weren't going to be on yours anymore.

He patted your knee when he was done and stood back up. You looked at him with such wide, soft eyes that Joel had struggled to hold back from kissing you. Damn.

"Thank you," your voice was soft and all he could manage in response was a nod of his head. It was then that you had remembered you still had something else to thank him for, "oh! Before I forget - thank you for the cookies. They were delicious."

"H-how did you know it was me?" his cheeks flushed pink as you beamed at him.

"It wasn't hard to put two and two together," you insisted, "I complained about not having cookies and suddenly there's a plate waiting at home? Come on, Joel. You made that almost too easy! But they were also delicious."

"I'm glad you liked them," he whispered softly, "and I'm glad your arm is okay."

"Me too," you smiled up at him, "all thanks to you, Joel Miller."

He couldn't find it within himself to muster up even a single word, too afraid he might spill his innermost secrets. Instead he brushed his knuckles along your cheek ever so gently.

He didn't have to say anything, not really. Everything between the two of you was loud and clear.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You hadn't been sick in a long time and realized it wasn't something you missed. When it came around, you were really down and out.

Like right now. You caught something but from who or what you had no clue.

You did know however that you felt and looked like absolute garbage and had no energy either. So you did all that you could - stay in bed and rest.

But you were hungry and thirsty but didn't have it within yourself to actually get up to take care of yourself.

When you heard someone knocking at the door all you managed to do was shout in response, "its open!"

A moment passed before the door was actually opened and you heard a pair of tentative footsteps. You listened to their path until they stopped in front of your bedroom.

You rolled onto your back and looked up, finding Joel standing there and holding several bags of supplies. He hated seeing you like this; you hated him seeing you like this too.

"What're you doing here?" you asked softly as he cleared his throat nervously, "Joel?"

"Maria told me you weren't feeling well," he said gruffly, "I came to take care of you."

"'m sick," you coughed lightly as he grimaced, "don't want you to get sick too."

"I don't care," he insisted in a tone that suggested it was pointless to argue, "I'm here to take care of you. You realize I'm not just leaving, right?"

"Of course I do," you sat up as he hesitantly came over and sat at the edge of your bed, "you're a stubborn man, Joel Miller."

"I've heard that a time or two," he snorted in amusement, "and much, much worse."

"Hmm," you laughed lightly as you leaned against your pillows, "what if you get sick?"

"I won't."

"If you did," you pressed further, "would you let me take care of you?"

He paused for a moment before nodding. He knew that you were just as stubborn as him, "I would."

"Good," you paused for a moment before a serious look crossed your features, "can I ask you something, Joel?"

"Anything," he insisted softly, his voice dropping to a tone that seemed to be reserved just for you.

"You’re always so nice to me,” you tried to ignore the fact that warmth was rising in your face, enough that you were sure you could fry an egg on it, “but…”

“But…” he echoed, reaching over and brushing your hair out of your face before feeling your forehead, “but what?”

“It’s me,” you waved your hand around, “you’re always like this with me. But not anyone else. I don’t think so anyway.”

“You’re right,” he confirmed, his simple and sure answer coughing your brain to scramble, “the kid keeps saying I’m sweet on you. She’s not wrong.”

“Oh,” you hadn’t quite processed the weight of his words…not until, “oh.”

“Mhmm,” Joel didn’t necessarily have a way with words, but he didn’t need to when his actions spoke so loudly. You smiled at him and he felt like he was the one that was going to melt into a puddle, “have you eaten?”

“No,” you admitted sheepishly, “too tired.”

“Well then,” he stood up, hands on his hips, “I’ll go and make some soup. Okay?”

“Okay,” yeah. You could definitely get used to this. He grabbed the bags with groceries and supplies before turning to head to the kitchen. But you could let him go just yet, “Joel?”

He turned around and raised an eyebrow, “yes?”

“Me too,” you was the only thing you could get out. Judging from the way his face lit up, you knew he knew what you were trying to say.

“I’ll be back,” he promised, “get some rest in the meantime.”

“Okay.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal #tlou #tlou hbo #the last of us

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intimacyequalsdeath · 5 months

Text

Greif (Bo Sinclair x AFAB Reader)

This has been sitting in my drafts for awhile now cause I never felt good enough about it to actually post. I wanted to make a good hurt/comfort but not make it too over the top extreme and I'm really confident in this version of it to finally post it. This is the first time I've posted a heavier fic like this so please head all the trigger warnings I put for this one.

Notes: Minors DNI, This fic is written with an AFAB reader in mind though no specific descriptions are used the pronouns She/her are used in relation to the reader. Trigger warnings: Pregnancy, abortion talk (Briefly). Bo is really mean at least in the start, Hurt/Comfort. Afab reader with she/her pronouns used. Excessive Cursing.

"If you fuckin' think I'm lettin' you bring a fuckin' baby into this town you're fuckin crazy!"

Bo yelled as he paced around the living room of the main house. You had finally come clean and revealed to him that you were most likely pregnant. He was taking the news about as well as one would expect Bo Sinclair to.

"I didn't ask to get pregnant Bo! Maybe you should've been more careful!"

You screamed right back at him. Bo scoffed at your argument and shook his head, a nasty grin overtaking his face.

"I shoulda never let you fuckin stay here. I told myself the day you rolled into town that you were gonna cause me nothin' but trouble"

"Maybe you should let Vincent make me into one of his wax figures then Bo, or better yet, you can keep me in the basement under the station."

Bo froze at your statement and fixed you with an expression you had never seen grace his face before.

"You better watch your fuckin' mouth if you know what's good for ya"

"Why Bo? You can't handle the truth of what you were doing in that basement before I came along?"

"You have not got a fuckin' clue what you're talkin' about. When what you need to worry about is what your gonna do with bastard you got growin' in there cause it's not gonna have any relation to me"

He spat, motioning to your stomach.

"If you don't wanna keep the baby what do you suppose I do then?"

"I mean hell if I know, I'm sure the pharmacy in the next town over has some pills or somethin' to nip the problem in the bud"

"Y- you'd really want me to go through with that? After everything we've been through together? Are you fucking serious?"

"No darlin' I want you to go all the way over to the next town over and go on a fuckin' shoppin' spree!"

"How could you even suggest something like that Bo? After everything we've been through?"

"A baby ain't nothin' but a liability, a liability ain't a single one of us got time for. 'sides do you really fuckin' think Ambrose is the place to raise a baby?"

"You, Vince and Les grew up here! Plus it's not like you'd let me fuckin' leave and go somewhere else to raise the baby. You'd turn me into a wax figure before that ever happened"

"Exactly, so what happens when that rug rat grows up and starts askin' questions? Askin' shit about what his daddy and uncles do? Askin' about the figures? What the fuck are you gonna do then?"

"You explained what the 3 of you do to me pretty damn near perfect didn't you?"

You countered Bo's argument. You watch his face as another unreadable expression crossed it as he finally sat down in his recliner and put his head in his hands. You sat and watched him in sick curiosity before the overwhelming feeling hit you like a truck.

Bo Sinclair was afraid.

An emotion you quite honestly never thought you'd see Bo experience. Sure Lester had told you stories from when they were kids and scared of their parents, storms or the usual childhood fears. But this was different. Bo wasn't a child and this wasn't a storm that would just pass if he hid under his covers and waited long enough.

You sat looking at a broken son in the body of a man, a son who had never healed from the torture his own parents put him through. The cracks that Bo tried to conceal so well from his own upbringing were crumbling in front of you. The fears coming back to him, his mother's voice echoing in his head that he would just grow up to be like his father.

The fear that it would be twins, like him and Vince and he'd have to watch them be separated and not be able to do a thing for them. Not being able to take them to a hospital just to protect Ambrose and his brothers.

"You're not going to be like them Bo"

You broke the silence with a whisper. You could hear Bo sharply suck in a breath, you were treading on unprecedented territory with Bo. His childhood was just something he didn't talk or think about at all and now it was at the forefront of his thoughts.

"Shut up"

He mumbled back. A usual response for when Bo felt like you were trying to back him into a corner and he was running out of ammo to fight you off.

"You're not going to be like them Bo. You aren't them and you never will be."

You exclaimed louder. Bo threw his hands off his face and stood up so fast the chair tipped on it's back legs. He stood, in front of the chair, just starring at you, breathing heavily as emotions swam through his eyes. You decided to be bold and test the waters, you began to take small steps toward Bo, he wasn't attempting to walk away so you continued this until you were right in front of him.

"Bo"

You said softly as you stood directly in front of him. He finally snapped his eyes down to meet yours.

"Bo, you're going to be better then them. You're going to be a good dad Bo, you've had a first hand experience of what not to be like as a parent, it's going to be rocky sure but-"

"My mama always told me I'd end up being just like daddy, Just a mean son of a bitch who never had anything nice to say to no one."

Bo cut you off, a much softer tone then before when his fear was translating to anger.

"Do you want to be like you dad? Are you gonna hate this baby if it doesn't come out to be what you were expecting?"

Bo look at you as if you had grown three heads.

"Of course not, it's my kid, how could I not love my own flesh and blood."

"If you know that, and aren't planning to emulate your father, then why are you so worried about ending up like him?"

Bo was stunned, no one had ever talked him through his emotions like that.

"T-that was the only image of a father I ever got. I don't know what a good dad is like. I don't know how "normal" kids who parents actually wanted 'em around had it"

You reached down and grabbed his wrist gently. Bringing it up and rubbing your fingers over his scars, the scars that told many glaring stories of what shaped him into the cold man he was today. You were thawing him out though, slowly but surely.

"You'll learn, No ones saying it'll be easy, but you're capable of running this whole town and taking care of the four of us, I'm sure you'll pick up fatherhood just as quick as anything else."

"Well that ain't my only issue with this whole baby thing though"

"What else is wrong then Bo?"

"It's- It's fuckin'" He sighed and ran a hand over his face. "What if it's twins, and their conjoined like- like me and Vince were."

"Oh Bo"

"We ain't got no doctors here, and it's not like we could go stay in another town for the duration of it that would be too risky, god forbid you have complications too. I just- I don't know if I could do that darlin'"

Everything was coming together and your vision on why Bo was so angry was becoming clearer and clearer. Bo wasn't angry at you, he was scared of loosing you. Scared of being alone when he had finally found something he never thought he would ever get to have.

"Bo honey, I know it's scary, but what happened with you and Vince was rare. There's no guarantee that this baby will even be twins. You should've brought this all to me instead of just yelling."

"I know darlin', I should've went about it better. But I guess when you told me you were pregnant I- I got scared. The entire time you've been here I've had these scenarios in my head, worryin' about what would happen"

You were speechless as you watch as he turned away from you and began pacing again, this time without the yelling. The entire time you had known Bo you had never known him to be one to talk about his feelings. "I'm not a fuckin' pussy" He was remark to you when you would ask him what was wrong.

The front door swung open as Vincent returned from the wax museum. Bo stopped as your gazes moved to Vince who was now frozen in the doorway of the living room.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Vincent signed. You looked at him apologetically before flicking your eyes over to Bo to see what he would say.

"Nah Vince it's nothin'. Just uh- She's pregnant is all"

Vincent perked up and his gaze immediately flicked over to you.

"Really?"

He signed, giving off an aura of excitement. You nodded at him and mustered a smile

"I'm gonna be an uncle!. I'll start reading dad's old medical books and learn things to help with the delivery"

"Now Vince we ain't even-"

"I know he had an entire book about it, I'll start getting set up for prenatal appointments too. Maybe we could even go to the next town over for checkups and stuff, we'll need stuff for the baby too"

Vincent kept rambling in sign, something he did often. You couldn't help but laugh at his childlike wonder at the prospect of being an uncle. You looked over to Bo, who was noticeably less tense as he watched his twin's excitement over the new member of the family.

"Vince chill out for a sec, having this baby is so risky. What if it's twin and they come out like us? You're gonna separate 'em?"

"Well all things considered, the pregnancy only has a one in 250 chance of becoming a twin pregnancy. Plus we're identical twins, only fraternal ones run in families which means two separate eggs would have to be fertilized instead of the egg splitting."

Bo and you look at Vincent in dumbfounded shock as he signed the information as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Where the hell did ya learn all that?"

Bo asked still in shock as he looked at his brother as if he had grown another head.

"In dad's old medical books" Vincent shrugged "I'll leave you two alone now though, I should go get researching"

Vincent signed in reply before turning and heading upstairs to his bedroom. When you heard Vincent's bedroom door close you turned back to look at Bo who was already looking at you when your eyes met his. A lighter mood fell over the living room and smile at him.

"A one in 250 chance huh?"

"Yeah, I reckon so"

"You wanna take that chance daddy?"

All the emotions of the night wash over Bo's face as he thinks for a moment then answers.

"If you think it's a good idea, can't really argue with facts I suppose. But there's gonna be rules."

With that Bo is back, the rule making irritable Bo you fell in love with when you rolled into the gas station all those years ago.

"What rules are we talkin' about?"

"For starters your gonna take it easy, when someone comes into town your gonna stay here at the house and out of sight. No heavy lifting, no helping Vincent anymore, no walk-"

"Bo, Just wrap me in bubble wrap then yeah?"

"I mean I could go to the next town over and find somethin-"

"I was joking Bo, You're not wrapping me in a protective layer"

"I can if I want too"

He mumbled under his breath. I bit back a laugh and rolled my eyes.

"Whatever you say Bo"

"Hey I run this town-"

Bo begins the spiel you've heard about 20,000 times since you began living here as you walk into the kitchen, the cravings starting to take over, as he follows you to explain how he runs the town and how what he says goes and if he has to make more rules to keep you he will.

As you stand in the kitchen, eating your snack and listening to Bo's spiel. Something deep down inside you, lets a feeling wash over you that maybe just maybe, everything will be just fine.

#slasher x reader #slasher fandom #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #house of wax 2005 #bo sinclair x reader #hurt/comfort #house of wax #house of wax fanfic

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maicrowave · 9 months

Text

for dan and phil fans 2023 was truly the year of "be careful what you wish for", here's to 2024 being the year of "you ain't seen nothin yet"

#dnp #dan and phil #mine

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lisamariepresleyforever · 4 months

Text

Am I a disruption to your corruption?

#lisa marie presley #you ain't seen nothin' yet #lyrics #scientology

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urfavnegronerd · 1 year

Text

agape- nicholas britell

summary: miles is takin down ur braids

published: july 27, 2023

warnings: Grammarly hates me, the patriarchy, a dash of toxic masculinity, miles being a product of that grrah grah boom type masculinity, aave (no im not translating shit for you yall got access to urban dictionary and its not really a warning), i edited it myself so lmk if there are any mistakes

sueñito- little dream, bonito- handsome/ pretty boy, no me importa- i don't care/ it's not important to me

w/c: 1.5 k

reader's black coded cus im black so deal w it <3

i think this something every black boy be needin deep down

“Stop movin, ma”

“It’s knotty,”

“You had these in for how long?”

Silence.

“There's your answer right there, mama,”

“Sorry,”

“Nun to be sorry for, just hold still,”

Currently sitting on the bathroom floor criss-cross apple sauce, Miles was sitting on the toilet, your head between his knees, while he was taking down the frizzy lemonade braids that barely hugged your scalp anymore.

“Miles?”

He hums in response, rat tail comb in one hand, a tub of coconut oil in the other, threading the tail of the comb through the extensions down your back

“You’re the prettiest boy in all of Brooklyn,”

“Shut up”

“Prettiest boy I’ve ever seen,”

“Nuh-uh,”

“Fuck you mean ‘nuh uh’? The little freckles all over your cheeks? Cutest things I’ve ever seen, especially how they’re all slightly different shades, like lil polka dots all over your face, gives me a map a’ where to kiss. The little tiny dimple on the left side of your face? Adorable, 10/10, no notes. Also very kissable." He's still now, staring at the back of your head, using bundles strewn over his shoulder, mouth agape. “Them thick and long ass eyelashes? I could stare at ‘em all day, they look like teeny tiny butterfly wings when you rest your eyes.”

“Shut up,” he whispers, still unmoving, the little dab of coconut oil on his fingers slowly dribbling down his wrist

“Your mind pretty as hell, too, I like listening to what you have to hear when you let me,” you mumble, pressing tiny kisses into his cargo pant–clad kneecap.

“Stop doin that shit, ma”

“What?”

“Talkin all crazy like that,”

“I’m not talkin crazy, miles I’m being honest,”

“You makin me out to be some weak ass lil boy,”

“Miles.” you turn around abruptly, staring at him dead in the eye. “I’m jus being honest wit you. What's going on?”

“It’s nothin, ma, turn around”

“Sueñito. Lemme know what's up,”

“It’s nothin,”

You huff, turning around to face the bottom of the sink again. Silence bellows throughout the bathroom, Miles rubbing oil on your braids to detangle them to later drag the comb in once again and throw the discarded hair extension over his shoulder. The only sound between the two of you is the Marvin Gaye spinning on the record player, rooms away, dull basslines thrumming through the apartment.

“Ion like this,”

“What?”

“Whatever jus happened, we talk about what's bothering us,”

“Ain't nothin botherin me, ma,”

“Then why you start buggin' the second I get to complimenting you?”

“Cus ian wit all that girly shit,”

“Fuck you mean girly shit, I’m jus tryna love up on you Miles,” your nostrils flare as you stare ahead of you.

“Baby, I’m all for that but–”

“Miles, did someone tell you boys can't get that?”

A silence.

“Baby.”

“What?”

“Jus cus you a boy dont mean you don't deserve love,”

“Aint nobody say allat–”

“Shut up Ian done,” you say, swiftly turning around and snagging the oil and comb from his hand “jus cus you a boy doesn't mean you don't deserve to feel shit miles. Ion know what it was like wit your last girl, but Ian her. Okay? You allowed to be a person wimme, you know that right?”

“Ma–”

“Shut up I still ain't done yet. Miles I’m real, I’m right here. real like you, I promise you I’m not goin nowhere right now,”

“You done?”

“Yeah,”

“C’mere,” he motions to his lap, taking the comb and oil out of your hands and setting them on the tiled floor, laying out the discarded bundles.

“ ‘s oil all up on my hands”

“No me importa ma, come up on here,”

Obeying and wiping the excess coconut oil off your hand, you do. Straddling his lap, and looking into his eyes, examining the twinge of sadness in his eyes.

“Talk to me, mama,”

“I want you to know that you deserve love and that you’re allowed to feel some typa way. I want you to talk to me, Miles. I care about you so much and I wanna make sure you’re good. I love hearing you talk, but Ion like havin to beg you to talk to me. I love jus bein in your presence, but I hate feelin like that Miles. I don’t know who told you whatever's going through your head right now but they dead wrong. I wanna know how you be feelin, I wanna know.”

“Why you even talk like this to me?”

“Cus I’m your girl, n I like to kiss up on you and love all up on you,”

At this, he averts his eyes, trying to escape your gaze, his breath audibly speeding up.

“Mm mm, don't do that Miles. Please breathe,”

You plead, subconsciously pressing your middle three fingers under his jaw trying to measure his heart rate. Almost as a reflex to hide from you, he shrugs your hand away from under his jaw and pulls his hoodie over his mouth.

“Nah nah, don't hide from me neither,”

“Ain’t nobody hidin from you,”

“Jus cus you a boy don’t mean you don't deserve them random ass cuddles, or someone to tie up your durag or wash your hair. It don’t mean you shouldn't get flowers or hugs or them lil hickies behind your ear. Don't mean you not allowed to be sad or mad or wanna cry. Now Ion know who told you or made you feel that way but they dead wrong Miles. You allowed to feel with me,”

“Ian some lil boy runnin around though, that shit ain't for me,”

“If you wasn't supposed to feel and acknowledge your feelings, why would you be able to feel them? They there for a reason,”

Still straddled on his lap, he looks up at you with the tiny leverage you have on him. His eyes are big and doe-like, almost as if he’s scared to make this next step, say this next sentence.”

“Ion know why,” he mumbles, voice soft and scared. suddenly he’s kissin up on you, gripping anything he can get his hands on, like he’s making up for lost time, lost feelings. It's urgent and a little rough, though his lips are soft and velvety, a twinge of menthol chapstick on them.

“Yo yo yo, slow down. Ian goin nowhere” you whisper into his mouth, nails gently raking across his neck “ ‘m right here Miles, see?” you ask, guiding his hands to feel on the left side of your chest, right above your heart. “ ‘s my heart under there, I'm right here okay? I’m real, Miles I swear,”

“You’re real?” he whispers, breath shaky and uneven fisting the thin fabric of your camisole under the evergreen zip-up, in an attempt to feel more of your heart.

“You allowed to feel your feelings the same way you feel my heart,”

He still looks astonished, scared, and frozen. suddenly it wasn’t him you were talking to anymore. it was the scared little Brooklyn boy who had all these feelings stored away inside him, unsure of what to do or who to show them to.

“ ‘m sitting right here miles. I’m your girl, okay? This is real, and you are real,”

“I’m real?” tears begin to swim in his eyes.

“You’re real miles. and those feelings in that big heart of yours? Those are real too. And if you let me, I wanna hear all of 'em.”

His body stills once more against you, a small tear gliding down his cheek.

“I love you,”

And then he’s sobbing.

“Sshh, hey it's okay” you whisper, holding him close to your chest. “I love you so much I can’t hardly breathe when I'm around you. It’s okay and you're okay, Miles. I’m real and this is real and you. You are real.” you mumble into his braids, holding him with the protectiveness of a mother with a small child.

He just sat there, his head buried in your chest as he cried quietly, letting everything out. You just sat and let him cry and vent through his tears. All the things he had bottled up, discouraged to show to anyone. Sooner or later the tears slow to a stop, his face puffy and hot.

Gently tugging the ends of his braids, he looks up at you.

“You feel better sueñito?” you ask, dragging the cuff of your sweater to dry his face and pressing butterfly kisses to his cheeks in its wake. He did nothing but nod lazily, seemingly lighter, and nuzzling his face into your chest.

“Lemme finish wiping up your face n then you can be all up on me, bonito, okay?

He just nodded, dropping his head back to rest against the bathroom wall, the half-taken-out braids on your scalp no longer th task at hand. Reaching behind him you grab a baby wipe and swipe the tears and snot off his face, leaving his skin with a glossy finish. Holding his chin up, you look dead in his eyes.

“You so beautiful Miles.”

And this time, he nods.

🩷 reblogs are always appreciated for reach <3

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msbigredmachine · 10 months

Text

Netflix & [Redacted] - (Jey Uso/OC)

Is this the most awesomely stressful movie night ever? 😩

PAIRING: Jey Uso x Plus Size!OC

Word Count: 7.3k words

A/N: I'm back to talking too much 😖😂 I've missed writing Jey. Hope it's not too long. Enjoy!

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

It's been a quiet Friday night so far, just the two of you, the 52-inch screen TV showing a random movie he picked on Netflix. But as it stands, neither of you are watching it at the moment, or anytime soon for that matter - what you're doing right now is far more...entertaining.

Laid up together on the sunken sectional in his living room, you indulge in each other's mouths. The fluffy blanket meant to be keeping you warm is discarded somewhere; the sensual heat currently radiating between you doing a stellar job already. The sexual tension has been simmering all night, been simmering since you first laid eyes on each other months ago.

You've never dared to get involved with a client...until him. Having started to tire of the male species in general, this insanely attractive man seemingly appeared from the hidden depths of your wildest dreams. It was at an open house viewing for one of the luxury apartments you were selling in midtown Atlanta. A movie cannot do justice to showcase the electricity that sizzled between you two when he walked through the door. He was charming and funny, fun to talk to, and incredibly sexy. You could tell he was a bad boy, and honestly, you've always had a thing for bad boys. Three other potential clients came in but you hardly paid any attention to them, wrapped up in your lengthy conversation with him and discovering how much you had in common. It culminated with his check in your hand and your phone number in his. Now, just a few months later, you're letting him kiss all over you in his newly furnished apartment that you sold to him, 100% sure that you're finally going all the way tonight.

His large hand smooths along your bare thigh and briefly toys with the hem of your lilac boy shorts. He coaxes a breathless gasp from you when his fingers splay over your ass cheek, gathering as much of the expansive flesh as he can, while he keeps your back warm with his other hand tucked inside the Niutat hoodie that you "stole" from him.

"Mmm, you kiss so good, girl," he coos, complimenting his praises with another kiss.

"So do you," you giggle against his mouth and hold his wrist resting on your butt. "I'm still getting used to how handsy you are."

"Don't mind me, baby. Your body is so fuckin' sexy," he replies, shaking off your grip to keep touching on you. "All this extra juicy thickness for me to play with, I know that's right..."

It feels like you've hit the jackpot with Jey Uso. He is 100% your type; big and brown-skinned, strong and drop-dead gorgeous. Yet, so different from the others. He's a fighter and a nomad, literally and figuratively. Boatloads of charisma. Deceptively smart with a way with words and the ability to get people to do whatever he wants. You've seen him work his magic first-hand with his fans and wrestling audiences everywhere, and admittedly you've fallen under his spell too. You're immensely attracted to him, and though you've tried to take things slow, you're all but certain that all of that will change tonight, and you're in equal parts excited and terrified.

Yet, your bold actions take over as you cheekily nibble on his ear and rub your leg back and forth on the crotch of his thin shorts. This drags another growl from him as his eyes darken menacingly.

"You tryna start somethin' huh. Best believe I'ma finish it," he warns, licking his full lips revealing his silver grill peeking between them.

"I ain't startin' nothin'," you contest, your breath hitching when he lightly squeezes your ass and then smacks it.

"Yeah right, you rubbin' up on me like this, kissin' on me...I know you tryna tell Daddy sumn'..."

Fuck. The whole 'Daddy' thing does a lot of unholy things to your loins. Even though sex hasn't happened yet, the makeout sessions are out of this world. All your dates have ended with passionate kissing and touching, with him having to say goodbye and leaving your lips swollen, your clothing rumpled, your heart beating like crazy and your pussy drowning from the salacious foreplay you keep subjecting yourself to. "I just like kissing you, that's all," you murmur shyly with a blush.

"I like kissin' you too, ma. You got the softest." Kiss. "Sexiest." Kiss. "Sweetest lips I've ever tasted." One more kiss. "I'd like to do other things to you, but you frontin'," he adds.

Sucking your teeth, you sit up straight and glance up at the ceiling to avoid the heat of his stare. "Stop, we do stuff..." you retort quietly.

"Like what? This?" His hands sneak back under your hoodie to cup your breasts, rubbing them in circular motions. Your stiff nipples tighten some more from his touch, straining almost uncomfortably through the confines of your bra. "We should be doing more, baby. I know you want to," he says, making his low, deep syrupy voice even sexier.

"You are so dangerous. I should be runnin' far away from you, ya know."

"And yet you're here, with your overnight bag in my room and wearin' them tiny ass booty shorts with no panties. You exactly where you wanna be," he counters smoothly. "By the way, got rid of your booty call yet? What that fool's name again?"

He just has to bring Lawrence up, doesn't he? "Got rid of your hoes yet? What's their names?" you shoot right back.

Honestly, the less said about your failed relationships, the better. It was complicated, for both of you. Lawrence is an ex you've muddied the waters with by sleeping with him occasionally. Jey recently finalized his divorce from a woman he'd been with since college and was now sowing his wild oats, garnering a number of side pieces in the process. You 'met' two of them at his cookout party a couple of weeks back. Apparently they had shown up unannounced, his sister-in-law Trinity informed you. Trin had taken a shine to you and was kind enough to fill you in on your potential boyfriend's dalliances. You don't share your men under any circumstances, but if that apparatus between his legs is half as talented as his mouth and hands, then you're willing to forgo that caveat.

"I know you forgot all about your man when you first laid eyes on me. I saw the way you looked at me," Jey boasts.

"Only cuz you were lookin' right back," you say. "I just couldn't believe a man could have such pretty eyes," you elaborate, knowing that will make him smile and it does; his dimples deepen and make him look cuter. He is so handsome, and you are finding him harder and harder to resist.

"I remember that dress you was wearing. That big ol' booty was cryin' out to me, bruh. Beggin' me to squeeze and manhandle it in all the right ways. I wanted to bend you over that kitchen counter over there, give you da bidness, know what I mean?"

"And I remember I couldn't stop watching your lips move when you were talking to me," you add, inwardly swooning as you reminisce. "It don't help that you got this habit of licking them every five seconds..."

"I know somewhere I can lick," he drawls. He's pinning those hypnotic eyes on you now, again, looking at you all hot and sensual like he wants to devour you. With his fingers, he gently pushes your cheeks together to part your mouth and slide his tongue inside. Thick and warm, it lavishes the insides of your mouth. Before Jey, kissing was never this...intimate...for you. Nothing you experienced before remotely matched the passionate scenes in romantic films that swept the characters off their feet. Jey's kisses do just that. They are the kind that make you forget your name and sweep you off the ground never to come down again.

"How 'bout we finish the movie, hmm?" you suggest breathlessly.

"Later," he dismisses, and pats his thighs. "Sit on my lap and face me, beautiful."

The nerves rush through your body, but you're currently fueled by wine and want, so you oblige him. As you straddle him, you fight back a moan as his erection nudges persistently against your core. His arm winds around your waist to pull you in, kissing you with the same measured, drugging nature with a little bit of aggressiveness mixed in this time. His hands run up your spine and then back down to grasp your cheeks, squeezing them each time. He growls into your mouth as your fingers trail a path from his chest, up his broad shoulders and all the way to his blue-tinged mullet, tugging the back of his hair.

"Mmm, yeah, get rough with me, baby," he moans. He loves it when you yank and pull at him when you kiss, it always proves his point that you want to fuck as much as he does. His thick tongue pokes out, darting beneath the seam of your lips, and you catch it with a long suck that has him moaning his pleasure. In retaliation, both hands make their way inside your shorts to grab your round ass, his fingertips grazing your pussy lips from behind.

"I want you, Y/N. I want that pussy." he murmurs.

His dick is growing harder against you, and it feels so big that you're unable to stop yourself from grinding down on it. His grip is firm and possessive as he rocks you on top of him like you are riding him. You moan needily from the building sensations, your arousal spiraling out of control already. You make an attempt to climb off of him, but he grunts in protest and holds you down on him. Though you're on the heavier side of the weight spectrum, he's still bigger than you and definitely much stronger, and he's not letting you escape at all.

"Fuck," you gasp against his lips, feeling his long fingers dig into the soft, bare flesh of your backside as you dry-hump each other. They breach the crack of your ass before teasing the outer lips of your pussy from the back. Before he can sink one finger inside you, you manage to tear yourself away and distance yourself, your lips parted and panting.

"I'm scared, okay?" you blurt out.

For a long moment, Jey stares at you, his expression unreadable. "Scared of what?" he asks patiently.

You cringe as his hands clench into fists on his lap, sensing his palpable frustration. Shit, why did you have to open your fucking mouth? Shaking your head, you look away. "Never mind," you mumble, feeling stupid already.

"Hey, don't do that," he chides you firmly, though his eyes are kind and curious. "Tell me what's wrong. I won't know how to help if you don't."

A small, nervous sigh escapes your lips. Right now you want to get your stuff and run home never to come back, but you steel your nerves and open up. "I'm scared of the disappointment. Sex-wise, I mean. Me being disappointed or you being disappointed or both. Lawrence also talked all that shit to get me to have sex with him again," you ramble, making a motion with your hands to mimic talking, "Bragged and bragged about what I was missing and all the shit he was gonna do to me. It's been weeks and not once has he made me come...I have to do it myself afterwards every time. He said he was still getting used to fucking a big girl again. Yes, I know he's a punk bitch and I need to get rid of him. But I feel like I've forgotten how to have good sex and I don't want more of the same here."

There, you've said it. You can't bring herself to look at Jey, and your cheeks heat up under his scrutinizing gaze. You know he's assessing your words and he probably thinks you're a weirdo and you won't blame him if he does.

"That fucking dumbass."

Stunned, you look back up at him, intrigued by the way he shakes his head like a disappointed father. "Ay, you gotta send that jabroni packin', uce," he replies, "You can't be wasting premium pussy on that lame ass motherfucker. You need a man that know how to take care of you like you deserve. No real man gets off and leaves their lady hangin'. That's fuckin' wack, bruh."

He reaches up to cup your chin between his fingers, his gaze soft and tender. "Now that you've told me this, I wanna fuck you more than ever," he continues, "I wanna take my good ol' time withchu, so I know what you want and how you like it. I want you to feel so good you won't see that nut coming. I can show you a whole lotta things, pretty girl, but only if you let me."

Wow. You absorb his strong confident words that temporarily make you forget your fears. Is he telling the truth? Will he be able to give you what you truly need?

Before you can respond, a sudden loud moan that doesn't come from either of you startles you. You look to the TV and your jaw drops as you witness the main characters of the movie going at it in a bathroom stall in what looks like a nightclub.

"Damn, they fuckin' fuckin'," Jey comments. And he's right. For fake sex, it looks realistic as hell, with the actress' hands on the wall, her exposed breasts bouncing, her moans throaty and desperate as the guy pounds her aggressively from behind. You squirm in your seat as the scene seems to go on and on. This is surely a sign for you and Jey to finally get it on. You dare to peek at him to catch his reaction. He looks fascinated, a lopsided smirk on his face, his eyes dark and filled with unbridled desire. Your eyes fall to the outline of his crotch, his erection twisted to the side thanks to your earlier shenanigans and what he's watching now.

"Okaaaaay, I think it's time for more wine," you announce loudly, jumping up and grabbing both your empty wine glasses.

Helping himself to some popcorn, Jey eyes you with a smirk as you scurry across the open plan layout of the room. Seeing you flustered is only making him want you more. With just the kitchen lights turned on he can see you more clearly. Your thick thighs and fat juicy ass are barely hiding that chocolate pussy he wants to feast on and dig out so badly. "Why you runnin', girl?" he calls out.

"I'm not," you lie, doing your best to block out the sultry moans and slapping skin coming from the TV as you pick up a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. "Which one do you want? White or red?"

"Only one thing I want right now, baby," he answers unabashedly.

You blush profusely and shake your head, "Chill, Uce."

"Call me Uce again and we gon' have problems," he warns.

That surprises you. "Thought you said your friends call you Uce."

"Not friends that I wanna fuck."

Good Lord. In his defense, Jey has made no bones about how much he wants you and you're not sure you can hold out for much longer. This is the man you've been hoping for, the man you've desperately needed to make you feel alive again. Lawrence made you question your confidence when he acted like he was doing you a favor by sleeping with you. But Jey seems different; he seems genuinely interested in making you come and making you feel good. It's just a case of you being brave enough to give in to him completely.

"Earth to Y/N."

You nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of his voice right behind you, which is quickly followed by his hard body pressing against your back. Of course you've spaced out thinking about sex with him. It's not the first time.

"You good?" he asks.

"Yeah, sorry, one glass of red wine coming right up," you stutter, struggling to keep a steady hand to pour some into his glass. His dick is hard against your ass, no thanks to the smut playing on TV, with the couple now having sex inside a car. He's all up on you, making you feel every plane and every ridge on his hard, chiseled body. His muscular arms wrap you in a big hug, at one with the fleshy softness of your body as he kisses your ear.

"You're turned on, huh? Seein' them two fucking like that? That why you ran?" he whispers, his baritone voice laced with mischief. "Want me to fuck you like that?"

The answer on the tip of your tongue evaporates as he reaches down to squeeze the chunk of skin on your inner thigh. His lips find the nape of your neck, and you move almost on autopilot as you sweep your goddess braids to the side to allow him full access to your throat. His wet, open-mouthed kisses, suckling on your pulse like a damn vampire, are driving you crazy. His large body envelopes yours, pressing your stomach into the counter, his legs purposely spread to grind himself against your backside. The throbbing sensation in your nipples and your clit makes you gulp down both your glasses in one go.

Jey's hand goes down the front of your shorts, your body going slack as he rubs the wetness that has pooled between your legs. You can't stop the throaty sounds that he loves so much from escaping. You're a soaked mess and for Jey, it's like a shark smelling blood.

"The movie, remember?" you breathe, your resolve slipping away as you look back at him, his lustful grin making your heart pound.

"Fuck the movie, let's make our own," he says. Your mouths collide again, kissing so deeply and hungrily it's almost impossible to tell who ends where and who starts where. This is nothing like the other comparably tame liplocks from earlier. He's telling you exactly what he wants and he plans to get it now.

Turning you around, he descends slowly to his knees before you and takes his time dragging your shorts down your legs. You look on helplessly, your anxiety battling with your desire as he palms your thigh and props your right leg over his shoulder, licking his lips at the sight of your bare folds glistening for him. He breathes you in, basking in the scent he plans to familiarize himself with. He looks up at you, and what you see in his eyes dries up your throat.

"Pretty ass pussy. Lemme eat it up, babe," he growls.

He pushes his face against your center and penetrates you with his tongue. Crying out in pleasure, you grip the sides of the counter for balance as the pressure from his mouth ramps up immediately, his long fingers molding your ass, his breath warming your core, his tongue finding every crevice you own with devastating strokes as he licks up every drop of your arousal for him.

With trembling hands, you lift the hem of your hoodie up to your chest while weaving your other fingers through the soft waves of his hair, holding him to you. He's doing the most delicious things to you, coaxing your juices out of your pussy. You can feel his tongue inside you, his mouth getting wetter and sloppier with your juices and his saliva running down your thigh. You want to die as he twirls his tongue all over your protruding clit, his pace unhurried as he holds your leg tight, smothering his face between your thighs, and that familiar warmth starts to brew in your stomach.

"Oh my god, Jey..."

The pitch of your moans increases. You keep squirming, trying to pull away, but he clamps his arms around your waist to hold you still. You're not going anywhere. He knows you're close from the way you throb on his tongue and picks up the pace, lapping wildly at your folds then gently biting your clit. "That's it, come in my mouth," he orders huskily.

"Ohhhhhh...." you squeal, throwing your head back as you flood his mouth with your release. This is the hardest you've orgasmed in about a year and your mind is blown. Jey remains glued to you, his dangerous mouth making you quiver again as you already feel another approaching. You were confident he would get the job done, but he has delivered tenfold in just a matter of minutes. You have a feeling you'll be retiring your vibrator real soon.

The sounds coming out of you as you come a second time are otherworldly, making Jey harder than he's been in a long time. You're definitely the sweetest he's ever tasted. It's there and then he decides he can't hold back anymore. He needs to have you, now.

Dragging you away from the counter, he lifts your body, limp and weak from pleasure, into his arms effortlessly, carrying you back to the living room and sitting carefully on the massive couch with you on top of him.

"You ready for me, baby?" he asks with a predatory look in his eyes as he tugs the hem of your hoodie.

"Mm-hmm," you reply, allowing him to drag the garment up and above your head. Your gaze falls on the small square foil packet that's appeared in his right hand. This is really happening.

"Say that shit with your full chest, look me in the eye. You sure you can handle me?" he questions.

"The question is, Mr. Main Event, can you handle all this?" Leaning back a little, you spread your legs far apart and pat your exposed pussy with a raised eyebrow, the wine in your system ramping up your bravery as you taunt him.

Jey rebuttals with a full, open-mouthed kiss that curls your toes as you taste yourself. The embrace intensifies while he unhooks your bra from behind, letting his calloused fingers play with the softness of your breasts. You moan at the urgency in his touch, the feel of his clothed dick bumping against your bare, wet center. He pulls away, not taking his eyes off you as he whips his t-shirt over his head, revealing all those beautiful tribal tattoos he shows off on TV, his taut abs sprinkled with a little hair that trails down south. You move off him to pull his shorts down his hips, and you zero in on the large wet stain on his gray cotton briefs. You almost can't believe it's you that's done that to him. He unwraps the last of it, and you take in the glorious vision of his briefs falling away too, allowing his cock to spring free.

"Shit," you exclaim.

Jey looks down at himself, then back at you. "Good shit or bad shit?" he smirks.

"Both." You can't take your eyes off it. Long, caramel brown and girthy with a curve to it, destined to reach that spot inside you that will make you cry. Fuck. It's going to hurt so good; you can already feel it sliding inside...

"I wanna suck it, Daddy," you tell him sweetly, closing up the space between his sturdy thighs. You pick up his dick at the base; it's as heavy as it looks, thick and veiny and yet smooth at the same time. You like the way it twitches when you stroke it lightly in your hand, and like it even more when he moans in reaction. You wind your tongue around the slit of his head to lick up the precum hanging there, and then wrap your lips around his flesh. He fills your mouth right away, stretching it dangerously. It's a tight fit, but lucky for you...and him...you love a challenge.

As you swallow him up, a deep, contented groan escapes Jey's body, making him toss his head back and sink into the sectional as his dick sinks further into your mouth. Your mouth is so warm, your lips so soft as they glide expertly up and down his length. With another moan, his hand curves around the back of your head, clenching his fingers in your braids when your lips dare to meet his pelvis. Your tongue lashes around the base before you release him, a long string of saliva trailing after you as you pull back to breathe for a second, then dive back in.

He loves the sight of you on your knees before him, torturing him with your dizzying oral prowess. His stomach clenches as your other hand slips over his balls, massaging them lovingly in your palm, making him pulse in your mouth. Catching his glazed-over gaze, you flutter your lashes innocently at him, then flash him a devilish wink as you take every inch of his cock down your throat, savoring the taste of him. His hand tightens in your hair, as do his balls when you start to suck him harder and stroke him faster, and he knows he won't last long if he lets you carry on like this.

"Damn girl, I ain't tryna nut yet." He tugs your hair hard enough to pull you off him, his breath catching at the sight of his dick plopping wetly against his abs with your saliva all over it. He puts the latex on as quickly as possible and meets your famished eyes. "Come up here, babe, come fuck me," he beckons to you with a crook of his finger.

You kiss along his dick, up his abs and chest, and then his neck. He helps you straddle him and covers your mouth with a slew of smoldering kisses. Using his free hand to grasp his dick at the base, he lines it up with your pussy, grunting softly when he feels your wetness against his hard dick. You press your chest into his, your ass lowering to welcome him inside you. Your jaw drops as your pussy stretches around him. His girth and length are invasive in the best way, and you whine softly as he slowly guides your hips down to meet him halfway. "Fuck..." you gasp.

"Too much?" he asks with a shaky voice, just as affected as you are by your joining.

Swallowing hard, you ignore the quivering of your thighs and shake your head. "I can take it," you breathe. At least, you hope you can.

"Good girl," he groans and runs his hands along your sides, "C'mon, ride me."

His hold on your waist is firm as you rise and fall on his erection, lifting up and down, circling your hips with each drop down. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. He's so deep inside you; it's a miracle you're not screaming down his apartment. He can't resist burying his face in your soft titties, practically motorboarding them while you work him, looking down occasionally at the way your hips roll. He returns your hazy stare with a cocky smirk, flashing his grill between his full lips.

"Jey..."

"Yeah, baby? Feel good?" he asks with a breathless kiss. You reply by adjusting into a squat, gripping the backrest behind him as you take the reins from him and ride him harder. Jey meets you thrust for thrust, grunting as your tight little pussy pulls and tugs around him. You tuck your face in his neck, moaning into his skin. His strong arms hold you close, keeping you chest to chest. One large hand scrapes down to your right ass cheek, smacking the skin hard as you bounce up and down on his cock. Both of you groan and grind together, time and space ceasing to exist as you lose yourselves in each other.

"You feel incredible, baby, so damn tight," Jey whispers, his palms running from the back of your neck down your spine, over your hips and resting under your thighs. "Damn, I'm deep in this pussy, girl, make me wanna take this damn rubber off..."

You moan at his dirty words, your palms planted on his hard pecs and moaning even louder as he steers you on his dick, his fingers pressed into your hip bones as he grinds you onto him, stimulating your sweet spot with a delicious precision that unlocks you again.

"Uuuuugh," your voice sounds strangled as another orgasm washes over you. Your body trembles from head to toe from how hard you're coming all over his cock. Jey chuckles against your throat, his lips brushing soft kisses over your thrumming flesh. Your fingers thread through his hair, your face pressed to his to catch your breath as he rolls you onto your back.

As he kneels between your spread legs, your mouth waters as he grabs his dick and massages it, spreading your cum all over the length, his heavy breathing matching yours. The lights emanating from the TV work wonders for his caramel skin and the muscles adorning his frame. His beautiful dark irises sparkle like fireworks as he taps your pussy with his dick, making you jerk from the sudden shock of it. Your legs recoil instinctively, but he pushes your thigh down to your chest and does it again and again, until all you can hear over your moans is the splashing of your pussy from the pressure of his heavy cock. It sounds so good and gushy, just the way he wants it. He hoses you down with that sexy ass smirk of his, causing you to whimper with a desperate need for him to be inside you again.

"Mm-hmm," he murmurs with appreciative eyes, "You look so hot, babe, buck naked, laid out on my couch with this pretty cunt wet and open. I should punish your fine ass for holding out on me, but it's a'ight. We both gettin' what we want, and that's this big dick deep in this fat pussy. You gon' get every inch of Daddy's dick."

He pulls you towards him, draping your legs over his. He grabs his dick again and guides himself slowly into you, one inch at a time. Your hand rests on his hip, your eyes fixated as you watch him sink deeper and deeper. Your legs curl around his waist, your heels digging into his backside as he starts moving. Your head tips backwards with a wanton moan; the angle with which he's fucking you has you feeling like he's in your stomach. The base of his cock grinds sensually against your clit with every deep thrust, whipping your insides into a frenzy of sensations.

"Shit, baby..."

"Yeah, this how I fuck good pussy, I stroke it just like this. Fuuuck," his taunts dissolve in a moan as pleasure licks his spine. With another touch of his mouth to yours, he shoves your thighs against your chest and keeps feeding you the dick, making a hiss escape from the back of your throat. He pulls all the way out to the tip of his dick before sinking back inside, repeating this until your pussy is making squelching sounds surrendering to his strokes. Your arms wind around his shoulders, luring him down to keep him close to you. You stare into his dilated pupils. His salt-and-pepper beard gleams with traces of your first two nuts and the visual is erotic as hell. It's fascinating to watch the storm in his eyes, his pouty lips parted with pleasure, his muscles flexing as the strength of his thrusts intensifies.

"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck." The smacks of his pelvis grow harder, punching groans out of you. Baby boy is knocking the Sonic rings out of your pussy now, and your eyes roll in the back of your head as he holds your thick thighs down while he pounds into your heat, leaving you gasping like a fish out of water. Jey paws at your breast, flicking your nipple with his fingers, and you can feel your brain short-circuiting as several million nerve endings ignite within you.

"Mmm, am I handlin' it now huh? Am I handlin' it?" he throws your words back at you.

"Yes, Daddy," you moan, your fingers sinking into his back.

"You know this pussy mine, right?" he says, his eyes boring into yours.

"Uh huh," you choke out, gasping as he grinds into you for a few seconds, then resumes pumping into you again. The switch-up is crazy.

"That's my girl. My pretty girl with my pretty pussy." Your mouths clash noisily, his hands massaging and caressing all over your voluptuous body. It's a known fact that Jey loves women of all types. But there's something about a thick, sexy, pillow-soft woman with soft and delicate features that drives him wild. They are his favorite, and he knew the moment he first saw you that he would not rest until he had you. Now that he has, he concludes that Lawrence is never getting you back.

He leans back up and releases your breast to wrap his hand around your throat, another dark chuckle slipping from his lips as your pussy instantly moistens around him. "Ahh, you like that? Like to be choked like a bad girl? Like a naughty lil' slut?"

It's the nasty talk for you. Nothing sounds as sexy as shit-talking done right, and boy, he's doing it so right. He means every word he's saying, and even sexier, he's backing it up with spectacular fucking that you already know you'll never get enough of. Being someone who wrestles for a living, he knows how to make his touch firm and gentle in all the right moments. It's a deadly skill that he's using on you expertly, and you know from this night forward, you're ruined. You just know it.

Letting out a low growl, Jey fucks you faster, harder, watching your face contort with pleasure. He has you making so much noise with both your mouth and your pussy. He barely hears your mewling warning that you're about to come again, deciding to up the ante by hitching your legs over his elbows and fucking you into the couch. The back of your head mashes almost uncomfortably against the bottom of the headrest, but you take no notice because you're feeling too good. Your moans morph into screams which are quickly cut off as his hand tightens around your throat, making you look into his eyes and making you take it. Your nut comes crashing down so hard you're seeing stars. You're a moaning, shivering mess, your hands pressing his abs in a futile attempt to stop your pussy from gushing all over his groin and messing up his brand new sectional. But he doesn't seem to care.

"Nah, baby, take this dick like you said you can," he growls with gritted teeth. He grips you tight, yanking you up closer to his groin and thrusting faster into you. "Unnh, look at that. Look at that wet ass pussy comin'. This dick real good, huh babe?"

What the fuck have you gotten yourself into? You're dealing with a literal demon. You want to throw in the towel, wave the white flag. The orgasms you've already experienced have you feeling paralyzed, unable to move even as your ass rests in a large wet spot on the couch.

"Jey, please, baby, wait," Your pitiful moans fall on deaf ears as he pulls out and flips you over before you can finish your sentence. When he cups your pussy from behind, you arch your ass and automatically spread your thighs, grinding against his fingers. You feel like such a slut. One minute you're begging him to stop, the next you're riding his damn hand. Deep down inside you love it, love the myriad of sensations and emotions you haven't felt since before you met this Samoan specimen.

The fun and games continue as his fingers are replaced by his plum-shaped dickhead pushing back into your wet pussy. Both of you groan hungrily as the friction is nonexistent now thanks to your sopping slickness. Another moan falls from your lips as he smacks your ass while grinding into you, making himself fit all the way in and basking in your little noises as you accommodate him. He eases you flat onto your belly, nudging your thighs wider apart, hunching over you as he works his magic all over again, stroking in that pussy until your eyes are in the back of your head. "Fuck, I'm deeper in that shit baby, holy fuck," he gasps, one hand pressing into your back to hold you down, the other braced beside your head as he rails you hard and deep.

The fullness you feel in your pussy and stomach, the jiggles of your ass from his thighs bumping into it, your creamy cum coating his dick and balls which he feeds back to you...you feel them all at once. There's only one person's sex you want from this day forth, and it's Jey's. You want his big ass dick every damn day. It is a high that you never want to come off of. You're obsessed with the way it makes your body feel, the way it makes your prim and proper self shout and moan and undulate with no inhibitions.

Lawrence who?

"Oooh," you whine over and over into the pillow pressing your face, your vision starting to blur, "oooh, oooh, you feel gooood Daddy..."

Jey moans in your ear, snaking a hand back around your throat and giving it a light squeeze, "How good? I bet you gon' come again," he taunts.

The pressure of his fingers on each side of your neck ensures that every breath you take is shallower than the last as he drives in and out of your pussy, in and out, his long, thick shaft finding your g-spot each time he slides home. It doesn't take long for you to explode, shaking uncontrollably beneath his heavy warmth. His dirty talk has done you in again. His head drops down to suckle your neck, humming his appreciation as his hips wind into you with added vigor.

"Daddy..." your voice is barely above a whisper, and even then, your breath is stolen from you when he squeezes your ass cheeks and then slaps each one hard, repeating the action mid-thrusts. He's ruthless, making your pussy sing filthy, shameless, raunchy noises that cause that familiar burn to heat you up for yet another delicious climax.

"Let Daddy pound out his pussy, baby, let Daddy pound that shit," Jey says, raising himself up, yanking your ass up with him as he kneels behind you, not missing a single stride. Your thick hips are in his grasp, his thumbs pressed in the small of your back to keep your arch steady. He's fucking you so damn good. The amount of pleasure he's gifted your sex-starved body in multiple positions has left you speechless. This is a dicking down for the ages, one you never thought you would experience in your lifetime.

A shiver runs up your back as his fingers slip down to rub your clit, exacerbating all the sensations swimming within your body. Your mouth falls wide open but you have been robbed of all capacity to speak, reduced to loud incoherent groans as his hips snap relentlessly against your ass.

"Look at me, baby girl," Jey commands gruffly when you stuff your face into the pillow to muffle your screams, "Look at me. Let me see that beautiful face as you come."

You do as he says, acutely aware of how fucked out you must look right now. As you twist your upper body towards him, you drink in his own expression, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth, his brows furrowed, his body actually trembling a little as he buries his cock in you. You realize he's losing control too, his impending climax pulling him under. He looks so sexy, it feels so good that it overwhelms you and triggers your orgasm, ecstasy ripping through you with brute force.

"Oh my god, Jey," you lick your dry lips, your strength depleted from the barrage of pleasure. You feel, as well as hear his own husky moan through his mouth pressed to yours as as your pussy tenses around his dick swelling inside you.

"Unhhh, I'm comin', I'm comin' for you, baby," he rasps; this big strong man so weak and helpless for you that you're aroused anew. He grinds desperately against you, stuttered breaths leaving both your throats as your world spirals. You let out a stunned yelp when he slams into you once and then freezes, his cock throbbing as he empties inside you. The guttural moan he lets out as he comes hard is the sexiest thing you've ever heard. It's fascinating to see him fall apart like this, enraptured in total pleasure as he gives himself to you. You miss him the second he pulls out of you. He slumps down next to you, exhaling hard and heavy, and you crawl into his waiting arms for a cuddle. It's then you realize the room is darker than usual; the end credits of that X-rated film are rolling.

"You know you ain't goin' home this weekend, right?" Jey informs you, rubbing your backside with a lick of his lips and hooded hungry eyes. It's an order, not a request, because he's not letting you go anywhere, not after the indescribable high he's just experienced.

"I'm not sure I can even think right now. I'm so damn weak," you half-sigh, half-giggle, leaning into him as he trails soft kisses along your shoulder.

"Whatchu need? Water? Energy drink?" he offers.

"Water, please," you answer meekly, and he is up from the couch and in the kitchen in a flash. Watching him walk away with that back tattoo and that firm, fine ass sends a thrill of lust to your pussy which still quivers between your thighs. You're almost afraid to touch it, you know it's definitely beat up, all sloppy and puffy from his licking and rubbing and fucking.

He returns with two bottles of water and hands one to you. You thank him and twist open the cap to gulp it down, appreciating the cool liquid gliding down your parched throat. Jey reclines beside you and chugs his bottle in one go. You can't help but ogle his caramel steel rod, the condom gone, yet still hard and streaked with your collective cum. You blush when he catches your wandering eye, chuckling to himself as he wraps his arms around your waist and eases you onto his lap. He strokes your hair, presses his lips to your forehead, and then kisses you deeply. You cup his bearded chin, enjoying his little hums mingling with yours as your tongues tangle together. When you pull back, you swoon at the dreamy look in his gorgeous eyes with a dreamy, sated smile of your own.

"You made me come in every position. That's never happened before," you tell him.

His lip curls proudly at your statement. "Well, I got a couple more positions to test out. We just gettin' started."

Your words lodge in your throat at the seriousness in his voice. "Really?" you squeak out.

"Yep. We goin' to the bedroom soon. We doin' this all night, bae," he says.

"Damn. You're threatening me with a good time, but can a bitch breathe first?" you jokingly gripe, but the knowing gleam in his eye tells you he's not joking. At all. Your pussy flutters despite the beating it's already taken.

"Of course." His response is salaciously cryptic, letting the words hang in the air as he leans in for another gentle kiss. "So...were you disappointed?"

"With this? Hell no! Not at all. It was amazing."

Again, that damn smirk. "I agree. And there's a lot more where that came from." He points at the bottle in your hand. "Drink up, baby girl. You gon' need all the energy you can get."

THE END.

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