filthy-gorgeous-library

[filthy-gorgeous-library]

Welcome Home

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Fem!Reader x Jake Jensen Word Count: 4,665 Summary: Your first night in your new forever home with your alpha and beta is like a dream come true. Warnings: Explicit sexual content. Explicit language. A/B/O. MFM trio. A fucked up verse where omegas are generally treated more like pets than people, but don't worry, our babes will fix that. Pet play elements. Praise kink. Exhibitionism. Voyeurism. Vaginal fingering. Oral sex (f & m receiving). Lots of praise. Unprotected sex. Biting aka a/b/o bonding.  

A/N: Lookit!!! I finally have a new installment to the Pound Town verse for you. YAY! 🥳 I hope you enjoy it and I really hope you take a moment to drop me a reblog, comment, or ask once you finish. Reading or cumming, I’m not picky 😏

P.S. If you're new to this verse, be sure to read Curtis, Jake, and Reader's first part here.

VERSE MASTERLIST

As Curtis and Jake ushered you into your new home, you were torn between curiosity–eager to drink in every detail of your forever home–and a deep, desperate ache that was throbbing throughout you and had been since the duo started lavishing you with attention and praise in the playroom back at the pound.

Your eyes glimpsed a large, cozy looking living room with a stone fireplace before Jake was herding you toward the wooden staircase off the entryway. 

“Come on, gorgeous, we can save the tour for tomorrow,” he grinned.

“Jake.”

The stern tone of Curtis’ voice had both you and the beta freezing at the foot of the stairs, and you glanced over your shoulder to find your new alpha looming a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched the two of you.

Despite his serious countenance, there was a sparkle of amusement in his eyes, and it had that ache within you blooming with a new wave of want as you squirmed under Curtis’ intent gaze.

“We had her welcome home planned, beta,” Curtis tsked. “Tour first, then some food, then play time.”

“But I need her,” Jake whined, sticking out his lower lip as he tugged your back against his chest and rested his chin on your shoulder. “And she needs us, too. I know you can smell her, and she smells unsatisfied.”

Your face bloomed with the heat of embarrassment, your gaze dropping to the floor as you realized that your musky omega scent was hanging heavy in the air. 

A beat later, Curtis was before you, his body heat mingling with yours and Jake’s as he touched a finger beneath your chin and tipped your shy gaze up to meet his. 

“We’ll let her decide,” he murmured, “Since it’s her first day home. What should we prioritize, sweetheart? What do you want to do first?”

The happy chirp was bubbling up and spilling past your lips before you could even formulate a real response, because an alpha–your alpha–was giving you a choice, letting you decide. 

Because he cared what you wanted, and no one had ever cared about that before, not ever. 

Your jumbled thoughts and surprise must have been easy to read, because Curtis’ face softened as his hand slid along your warm cheek, until you could nuzzle into his touch as you blinked up at him, a little dazed already. 

“What do you want, omega?” he asked again.

“I want you,” you answered honestly. “And Jake,” your hand rested over your beta’s hand that was planted on your belly. “I want you to bond me, please, so I can be yours for real and forever.”

“I love her so much,” Jake breathed, his eyes shimmering as he met Curtis’ gaze as he snuffled along your neck.

“Alright then, what our omega wants, she gets,” Curtis hummed. He pressed a kiss to your forehead before doing the same to Jake, and then he was herding the both of you up the stairs amongst some quiet giggles and wandering hands. 

Soon the three of you were stumbling into the bedroom, and you had a moment to smile at the once again cozy, inviting decor before Jake was basically propelling you toward the neatly made California king-size bed. 

“Patience, beta,” Curtis reminded, but there was a curl to his lips as Jake sent him an abashed look. 

“Sorry, ‘mega,” Jake whispered against your ear, pressing a kiss to the plane of skin just behind it as he gave your hips a greedy grope.

As his lips began to touch and taste along the skin of your neck, Curtis drew near, pressing flush to your front–until you were sandwiched between both men–and dipping his head low to catch your lips with his own.

It was instant, the way Curtis’ kiss short circuited your brain. You had never felt so desired and adored–and never at the same time–as his soft, plush lips pressed against your own, his tongue sneaking along the seam of your mouth until you were happily opening up to him as he deepened the kiss. 

Curtis swallowed your throaty moan as Jake’s hand snuck into your panties, just a bit of cute, lacy fabric that went along with the fluttery dress they had brought to the pound to dress you in for the drive home. Your cat ears and plug were still tucked away in a bag in the back of their car, but that’s as far as your brain got before Jake’s fingers were circling your clit and making you whine. 

“Wait,” you panted once Curtis retreated from your mouth. “Please.”

“What do you need, pretty girl?” he asked, his big hand resting at the base of your throat as you blinked at him, dazed and struggling to think straight.

You felt a new wave of shyness wash over you as you finally zeroed in on what you really wanted in that moment. 

“Will you scent me, please? Both of you, together?”

“God, she’s so sweet,” Jake groaned, giving your sopping wet pussy a gentle pat before pulling his hand from your underwear and sucking your arousal from his fingers.

“Come here,” Curtis directed, taking your hand and leading you toward the bed. 

He settled you on the edge of it and sat at your side, waiting for Jake to mirror him on your other side before you were glancing between them, something ecstatic bursting to life in your belly and fluttering up through your chest as your eyes bounced from one warm, wanting look to the other.

When your gaze locked on Curtis’, he gave you a look so intent and focused that you whined softly, pressing your thighs together as a gush of arousal seeped from your pussy and made you squirm.

Nostrils flaring, your alpha leaned close, pressing a gentle kiss to your unmarked mating gland and purring at your sharp gasp before he was slowly dragging his nose along your neck as his musky scent rose up around you.

Your eyes fluttered when Jake descended on the other side of your throat, nosing along your warm skin and moaning at your scent as he scented you with a bit more eagerness and less finesse and patience than your alpha.

You swore you could taste the cocktail of their desire on your tongue as Curtis and Jake worked together to cover you in their scents, until you had a death grip on each of their hands in one of yours as you sank between them, already a floaty, pliant mess of carnal delight. 

Before you knew what was happening, the duo worked together to undress you and scoot you further up the bed, until you were sinking back against Jake, positioned between his legs as Curtis sank to his knees and tugged you to the very edge of the bed. 

Curtis’ eyes were so dark with desire they were nearly black as he tugged your ruined panties off and tossed them aside. His palms were warm and rough as they glided up your calves, spreading your legs wide open as he commanded Jake to, “Hold her open for me, beta.”

The directive alone had you moaning as your pussy clenched, your heart hammering in your chest as Curtis’ gaze fell to your glistening folds. 

“You’re so pretty, sweetheart,” he murmured, thumbs tugging the petals of your sex apart until he could see your twitching hole.

Your breath caught as his thumb ghosted over your drippy entrance, but then it was gliding up along the cut of you until he was rubbing barely there circles along your clit. Your hips bucked as need consumed you and you started babbling for you weren’t even sure what. 

All you knew was that you wanted, so so much, and Curtis and Jake could give it to you.

They could give you everything. 

Mesmerized, you watched with wide eyes as Curtis’ head dipped low, his warm breath washing over your pussy and making you whine as Jake cooed at your pretty noises and caressed along your naked breasts. 

The first swipe of your alpha’s tongue along your cunt had you nearly catapulting off the bed, and you squealed as Jake chuckled and gripped your thighs tighter, spreading your legs open just a little bit wider as Curtis shot you a wink and then went to town.

He groaned at the taste of you, lapping along your glistening folds before his tongue was teasing along your clit and driving you wild. 

You had never felt such intense pleasure in your entire life. And if this is what pleasure felt like, you were pretty sure you’d never felt it at all. 

The overwhelming feeling continued to mount, so many sensations running rampant through your body, the most prevalent being the strange build up that throbbed in the core of you. 

With each swipe of Curtis’ tongue, with every tease of his fingers along your weeping, clenching hole, it felt like you were inching along, closer and closer to something you so desperately needed despite not really knowing what your body was seeking to begin with.

And then it hit you out of nowhere.

It felt like your body was erupting, your back bowing as you keened at the warm, tingly rush of ecstasy that flooded through you. Distantly you were aware of the way Jake was still holding you in place, cooing against your ear as Curtis purred from between your trembling thighs and rumbled a litany of praise as your body writhed and bucked. 

You were panting when you finally sagged back against the sheets, so beyond dazed as you gasped for breath and shivered as stray aftershocks sparked their way along your body. 

“You’re such a good girl,” Curtis husked as he rose up from between your legs and stretched out over you. “Such a good omega.”

The happy chirp sounded as faint and dazed as you still looked, and Jake and Curtis shared a grin as the beta shimmied out from behind you, nearly vibrating in anticipation as Curtis dropped a quick kiss to your lips before moving away.

Before your pout could even fully form at his departure, Jake was taking Curtis’ place atop you, his big, boyish grin softening as he got a good look at your fucked-out-without-even-being-fucked-yet state.

“You’re so pretty,” Jake breathed, his big hand cradling the side of your face as he ducked low and kissed you. 

Really kissed you.

Distantly, you hoped you were keeping up with the urgent, sinful press of his lips half as good as he was working his mouth against yours, but when his tongue snuck between your lips as he deepened the kiss, all your thoughts went quiet as you mewled and twined your arms around Jake’s neck and tugged him even closer. 

It was the most heady feeling you had ever experienced, having the breath stolen right from your lungs by Jake’s eager lips as you felt the heavy, warm gaze of Curtis just beside you both, enjoying the show.

The longer you and Jake drank from each other’s lips, the stronger his scent got. There was a spicy tang to it now–his arousal–that made your head spin in the best way as you also felt the evidence of his desire for you pressed hard and hot against your belly.

At last, when your little sips of air in between kisses became more and more desperate, Jake finally retreated from your mouth, gasping just as harshly as you were, but that still didn’t stop him or his perfect, pink lips from kissing a trail down the side of your throat.

His mouth tasted and teased along your shoulders before he was finally licking at one of your hard, achy nipples, groaning against your chest as he took a moment to just face plant between your tits as his big hands groped them and pressed them around his face.

“Love boobs so much!” his muffled exclamation made you giggle.

He popped his head up at the sweet sound, giving you an abashed smile before his features went determined and he was once again kissing all along your chest, worshiping every inch of you he could reach as he continued his descent down your body.

You started to squirm when his mouth reached your belly, whining softly as your hand shot out and your fingers gripped Jake’s short, soft hair.

His eyes flickered up to meet yours as he pressed the gentlest kiss against your lower belly before skimming his lips even lower, until he was warming your mound with his hot breath.

“Please,” you begged softly, spreading your legs in offering and so needy for that rush of bliss that Curtis had so masterfully bestowed upon you just a short while ago.

Jake glanced sideways at Curtis, who was starting to shift restlessly now, his alpha scent overtaking the cocktail of yours and Jake’s own scents. Winking at the other man, Jake took a moment to press one final kiss to your swollen clit, giving it a firm lick for good measure before he was moving away and you were pouting in earnest.

“Think what you really need is our alpha’s knot, pretty omega,” Jake winked at you.

Before you could even think of a reply, Curtis was once again settling over you, his big, warm body taking up residence between your sprawled legs and making your eyes go wide with just how intently–how hungrily–he was eyeing you up.

You didn’t think you’d ever been looked at like that before, so all you could do was blink owlishly as Curtis’ handsome face hovered over your own. Then your eyes were fluttering shut as he dipped low to kiss you. Your alpha kissed you just as expertly as he had worked the warm, wet place between your legs, and he didn’t pull away until you were desperately gasping for breath against his lips.

You didn’t resist as Curtis sat back and gently turned you onto your belly. “Present for me, sweetheart,” he directed, and your body was following his instructions despite the way your mind was still foggy and sluggish and playing catch up from all of their attention.

“Yeah, there you go, omega,” Curtis purred, as you perched on all fours, albeit a little wobbly. He took a moment to completely undress, before his big hand circled the back of your neck and guided your head down so your warm cheek pressed against the soft, rumpled blanket. 

“Relax for me, pretty girl,” he murmured against your ear, big hand gliding down the length of your spine as he settled behind you. He gripped his hard cock in his hand, giving himself a few, slow pumps as Jake scrambled up beside him and shed his own clothes before resuming his spot and gazing at his alpha’s cock with a hungry look in his eye. 

Smirking, Curtis kept his free hand on the curve of your ass, warming your skin and letting you feel he was close as he turned to Jake. He released his cock in lieu of collaring the back of Jake’s neck and reeling him closer. Humming, he kissed his beta breathless, until he was swallowing Jake’s whine and pulling away with a grin. 

“Get me wet and ready for her, beta,” Curtis murmured. 

Moaning, Jake dipped low, eagerly taking Curtis’ cock in his mouth. His head bobbed a few times, hand gripping the base of Curtis’ cock and squeezing as the obscene sound of Curtis fucking Jake’s throat rose up around you all. 

Curtis groaned, tipping his head back and allowing himself a final hard rut into his beta’s throat before gently pulling away from Jake. “So good to me, bub,” he husked, caressing Jake’s ruddy cheek before he was once again settling behind you.

“Ready for me, sweetheart?” Curtis asked you, both hands smoothing over your ass cheeks and tugging them apart to reveal the glistening folds of your cunt.

“Yes, alpha,” you murmured, still sounding floaty as fuck.

And then you were nearly choking on a sharp gasp as you felt the rounded tip of Curtis’ cock line up with your entrance before he slowly started to push inside of you.

You moaned at the pressure, fisting the blankets on either side of you as Curtis patiently worked himself inside of your warm, tight pussy. 

“Fuck, omega, this cunt’s so tight,” he grunted as his hips retreated ever so slightly before he was surging back in again, just a little bit further than before.

You whined when it started to feel like too much, but then Jake was curling close to you, his big hand petting over your head as his lips pressed to your temple and he started to whisper an endless string of praise and adoration against your ear.

“You’re so pretty, omega,” he murmured. “So perfect for us. We’ve been waiting for you for so long, and now we finally have you, and you’re all ours. We’re gonna take such good care of you, pretty girl, just like you deserve. We’re gonna cherish you so much, forever.”

Feeling tears well, you reached for Jake’s hand, twining your fingers with his and giving a soft cry when Curtis finally bottomed out inside of you and went still, his big hands smoothing along your back as he purred behind you.

The first full retreat and thrust of his cock inside of you had you moaning, and then your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth hung open as your alpha really started to fuck you. 

It felt amazing, feeling him so deep inside of you, where he belonged. This was what you were made for–taking your alpha’s cock, bringing him pleasure–and it was like every new rut of his hard length within the deepest depths of your body was another small act of validation that you were right where you were meant to be.

That familiar, desperate throbbing from before started to pulse in your core, and soon every thrust of Curtis’ had you moaning or whining or keening so pretty for them. 

When Jake’s hand worked its way beneath you and his fingers started rubbing your clit, you nearly screamed, distantly aware of the way you clenched so hard around Curtis’ cock that you made him grunt and snarl from the pleasure of it.

And then all the distant thoughts in your mind seemed to evaporate at once as you came. Pleasure rippled through every inch of your body as you tensed and clamped around your alpha’s cock. 

Curtis continued to fuck you through it, feeling your cunt flutter around him for a second time before you were nearly boneless before him. He pulled out and turned you over, sharing another amused grin with Jake at how pliant and floaty you were. 

Sitting back in the middle of the bed, Curtis pulled you into his lap and back on his hard, aching cock, his strong arms circling you and holding you safe and secure against him as he pounded up into your sweet body from below.

“Fuck, I’m close,” he panted, his dark eyes meeting Jake’s as he nodded. 

Jake joined the fray, plastering himself against your back as his hands snuck around your body so he could grope your tits.

“Ready to become ours forever, omega?” Curtis breathed as he gave another hard, deep rut inside you.

You blinked at him, uncomprehending at first, but then it was like your inner omega perked up instantly, and she knew what came next, her giddiness and elation making it click in your brain, too.

“Yes, alpha,” you breathed, your vision blurring with happy tears. 

Curtis’ intense look softened ever so slightly, and he took the time to kiss you again, gently despite the frantic, relentless thrusting of his cock inside you. Just as he pulled away, he groaned against your lips, shoving into you hard and lingering. 

You felt his cock throb and twitch inside of you, and then his seed warming your insides as your pussy fluttered wildly. A beat later, you gasped as Curtis tucked his face against the crook of your neck and sank his teeth into your mating gland.

Jake did the same on the other side of your neck, and it was like a jolt of electricity sparked in your core and zipped through the rest of you.

You shuddered between your alpha and beta, another orgasm tearing through you as your body writhed and trembled and you felt Curtis’ knot expand and stretch your cunt to capacity.

Whining, you sank against his sweaty chest, chirping softly at the way both men began to coo and rain kisses on every inch of you they could reach. 

You were barely functioning but so very, very happy by the time Curtis’ knot went down and he pulled out of you. Your half-lidded gaze followed him as he sank onto his side next to you, and then Jake was stretching out on top of you and earning your full attention. 

Your beta’s grin was big and boyish as he pet your head and kissed you thoroughly enough that he stole your breath away. 

“You look sleepy, sweet omega, so I’ll make it quick,” he murmured against your lips. “Just wanna feel you and fill you up, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered, gasping softly as Jake lined himself up and slid into you with ease. “Jake.”

“Ohhhh, fuck,” Jake groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as he sank against you. “Youfeelsogood,” he breathed in a rush, dropping his forehead to yours as his hips started to move.

His cock wasn’t as long as Curtis’ but it was thicker, and you felt your body absolutely light up every time he eagerly shoved into you. Jake was frantic in his fucking of you, cradling you with his big, muscular arms as he rutted into you without pause, groaning and moaning against your lips as his hand snuck down between your bodies. 

It just took a bit of pressure from his fingers on your clit and the way Curtis teased, “Just wait until you take both our cocks at once,” to have you cumming again. 

Jake hissed as your pussy spasmed around him, his hips going harder and faster until he was following you over the edge and “Hnnnngh”ing against your sweaty cheek as he pumped you full of his cum.

You felt the bed shift as you laid beneath Jake, happy as a clam and half-asleep as he snuffled along your neck. Soon he was moving off of you and flopping beside you on the bed, his grin big and lazy as Curtis emerged from the connected bathroom with a couple of wet washcloths to clean you both up. 

“You did so well, omega,” he murmured as he gently cleaned the mess between your legs. “How do you feel, sweetheart?”

“Happy,” you answered before your brain caught up to his question.

Curtis’ smile was warm and tender as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, chuckling at the way Jake rolled closer to you and nuzzled along your temple. He took a moment to gently inspect the bondmarks on your neck before smoothing a hand over your head.

“Tomorrow we’ll have you bond us, but for now, I think we all need a good night’s sleep, how’s that sound?”

You nodded as your eyes grew heavier and heavier, pouting a little when both Curtis and Jake retreated from the bed to put on some pajamas. They worked together to dress you in a clean pair of panties and a thin sleep dress, and then you were thanking them both and watching them longingly as you slipped from the bed and sank to the floor beside it. 

“What are you doing?” Jake asked, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline as Curtis gave you a puzzled look. 

You blinked at both of them, just as confused. “Going to sleep?”

“Not on the floor you’re not,” Curtis told you firmly, gently gripping your arm and tugging you back to your feet. “Our bed is your bed now, too, omega.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, overwhelmed with emotion because you’d never had a real bed before, just a thin mattress to sleep on the pound floor where you had lived your whole life until now. 

“It is?” you asked, not resisting at all as Curtis urged you back into bed and toward the center of the mattress. You felt shy all of the sudden as your hand smoothed over the rumpled sheets and you asked, “It’s all of ours?”

“Everything we have is yours now, too,” Curtis said. “The bed, this house, everything. All of us.”

Your lower lip wobbled as Jake ducked into the closet before bounding back out again, his arms overflowing with brightly colored gifts for you. 

“We have stuff just for you, too!” he told you excitedly as he sat beside you. “Like these! I picked them out, do you like them?”

You hesitantly accepted the pillow and small throw blanket, hugging them to your chest as you breathed in their soft, clean scent that was also mixed with the familiar scents of your alpha and beta. “You got these for me?”

“Yeah,” Jake laughed, his blue eyes shimmering with warmth from behind his thin-rimmed glasses. 

“I love them,” you smiled, blinking back more happy tears as Curtis slid into bed on your other side. “Thank you so much!”

You watched as they each arranged their own pillows on the outsides of the bed before watching you carefully place your own pillow between theirs as you hugged your new blanket to your chest. 

Curtis turned out the bedside lamp, and they both shifted closer, until you were happily snuggled between them, exhaustion finally winning out as the quiet murmurs of your new alpha and beta lulled you to sleep in no time at all, a small smile curling your lips and your heart so very, very content. 

“Not that I’m complaining about how we spent our first night together,” Curtis whispered to Jake as he watched you sleep between them, “but we need to make sure we make her feel loved, not just desired.”

“Why not both?” Jake grinned, waggling his eyebrows.

Curtis shot him a look, but it was more softly amused than anything before he was going serious again. “She has a sweet heart, Jake, like you. I just want to make sure we protect it at all costs. She’s had a hard life, and now she has us.”

“Yeah she does,” a dopey grin curled Jake’s lips as he shifted even closer to you. He watched you for a beat before his gaze lifted to Curtis’. “I’ll make sure to tone down the wanting to jump her bones 24/7.”

Curtis cracked a grin. “I don’t think she’d complain, but I just want to make sure that’s not all we’re communicating. I don’t want her to feel used or like that’s all we want from her.”

Jake’s grin went soft, his eyes warm as he watched Curtis before murmuring, “You’re a good alpha.”

Carefully leaning over you, Curtis pressed a soft kiss to Jake’s lips before fondly ruffling his hair. “Goodnight, bub,” he whispered before settling on your other side.

“Night,” Jake whispered back. Then he placed the gentlest kiss ever to your head, unable to resist shooting Curtis one last ecstatic smile before finally settling down beside you and falling asleep nearly as quickly as you did.

For a few moments, Curtis laid awake, listening to your slow, even breaths, and Jake’s too. Just beneath the surface, he could feel the proud, satisfied content of his inner alpha, so pleased at last now that his pack was complete. 

Curtis leaned into his alpha’s content–his content–allowing the soft, peaceful sound of you and Jake breathing beside him to pull him under into the deepest depths of sleep, as a small, happy smile curled his lips.

I’d like to give a big shout out and lots of love to my sweet Bee for sharing that idea of Omega being so 🥺 at the idea of their bed being her bed now + Jake so happily presenting her with her sleepy girl things!! You’re the best, my cherished friend ❤️

If you enjoyed this chapter, please take a moment to drop me a reblog, comment, or ask. It really helps to keep my muse inspired when y’all screech at me!! 

—

I no longer do tag lists, but if you'd like to be notified when I post new writing, follow my side blog @‌sirisshamelesshoelibrary​ and turn on notifications to get pinged when I drop some new hoe fuel 😘

Please note that I do not give permission for my work to be translated, reposted, or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or my personal author website. Reblogs are most welcome and encouraged though! ❤️

[filthy-gorgeous-library]

It's just.... So.... 🥺 This was adorable!

eddie's drooling on you in his sleep. his hair is matted to your leg by his drool. he's cute, sure, but it's gross and your leg is falling asleep and you need to get up off the couch to get the remote.

when you tap his curly head and politely say "sir I do believe you're drooling on my thigh" in a haughty voice he looks up at you, bleary eyed and says in a drawled out voice "m'sorry, I just like bein' near you".

your heart oozes, all gooey and stupid with love. you get up and tuck him in on the couch, eddie having fallen right back asleep not knowing what he's done to you. you stretch your legs and get some water before sliding down to the floor in front of the couch to watch him.

ignoring your back pain from sitting on the lumpy old thing, you sit and stroke his hair and listen to his easy breath and think about how much you like being near him too. how you wish you could just be near him for the rest of your life.

[filthy-gorgeous-library]

Oh god, I don't know how to feel after reading this. Cause, logically, brain say very bad situation - this man is completely unhinged. But not-brain... 😍 He's obsessed.

As per usual, your writing is amazing and it finishes leaving the reader like they're the well-fucked lead in a semi-comedy stumbling out a room with hair at all angles and no idea what day it is cause there's not a thought behind those eyes.

trucker king (part 3)

pairing: dark trucker!ari levinson x female reader

summary: ari levinson finally takes you home—to his home—and your relationship deepens.

warnings: 18+ content (minors do not interact!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, anal sex (f receiving), oral sex (m & f receiving), fingering, squirting, vaginal fisting, rough sex, sadism/masochism, choking, breathplay, dacryphilia, painplay, rough body play, rough breast/nipple play, orgasm delay, multiple orgasms, so much overstimulation, somnophilia, cock warming, hint of a breeding kink, dirty talk, daddy kink, heavy degradation, some praise, pet names (sweetheart, baby, kiddo), possessive sex, possessive behavior, aftercare, controlling behavior, referenced abduction, referenced sex as payment, stockholm syndrome, a mean hot man—please please please let me know if i forgot to tag something!!!

word count: 12.5k

a/n: this was originally supposed to be a short transitional chapter setting up the next part of the story but i love love love writing these two and i couldn't stop myself from writing about what their life would be like at home when they're not in ari's truck. i also wrote ari a little softer here than i was expecting, but he's still very much a mean, rough and filthy trucker so don't worry!!! ahhh i love him so much, i hope y'all do too!! (also sorry if the end feels kinda rushed 😅)

trucker king masterlist

After a few weeks on the road, Ari Levinson finally took you home—to his home. You were delighted to discover he lived in a cozy little bungalow in a beachside town somewhere on the East coast. As you climbed down from the rig with Ari’s help, the sun was rising over the sand dunes at the end of the street, casting the home in a warm, golden glow.

The dark cedar shake siding of Ari’s bungalow was shaded by greenery that was blooming from early spring rain and partially obscuring the house from the street. A low, weathered wooden fence ran around the property line, lined by shrubs and hedges, all of which looked well-maintained. There weren’t any flowers to be seen, giving the house a distinctly masculine appearance. But it was nice and neat, reminding you of the way Ari kept his truck.

Sand and gravel crunched beneath your feet as you started venturing away from the narrow, tree-shaded driveway where Ari had parked the truck cab, which he’d detached from the trailer when he’d finished his haul. You’d wanted to get a better look at the garden by the porch that ran across the entire front of the bungalow, but Ari’s hand shot out and circled your upper arm, pulling you back to him.

“Stay close, sweetheart,” he rumbled, giving you a sharp look that you knew was meant to drive his order home. There was still an undercurrent of distrust in Ari’s expression, his blue eyes guarded as he gathered his things from the truck and slung a bag of laundry over his shoulder. “Don’t want you getting any ideas about running off.”

Curling your fingers in the belt loop of Ari’s pants, you held onto him, tugging lightly so he always knew you were there while you admired his home and neighborhood some more. All the while, Ari watched you out of the corner of his eye. 

You knew a part of him still expected you to try to run, and you would’ve huffed a frustrated sigh if you weren’t so curious about what exactly had made him so certain you would leave him. Even after a few weeks sharing the small confines of his truck and the little cot in the back, there was so much you didn’t know about Ari Levinson—and you were aching to find out. 

For the moment, though, you let him gather up his things in peace. You had plenty of time to learn everything there was to know about your truck driver.

Humidity hung heavy in the air, warming it enough to make it pleasant, with a gentle breeze wafting down the street from the beach, carrying the salty tang of the ocean. The street was quiet, and you assumed Ari’s neighbors were still sleeping since it was just after sunrise. 

Taking a deep breath and inhaling the scent of sand and salt, feeling the first rays of the spring sun’s warmth, was all it took to fall in love with Ari’s home. 

You hadn’t even gone inside, but you already felt more at home than you ever had in your shitty little apartment in the city. You couldn’t help yourself from imagining growing old with Ari in his cozy little bungalow by the beach, the two of you safe and happy in your home together. You knew it was foolish, especially when Ari still believed you had one foot out the door, but you were all in—and determined to make a future with your trucker.

The sharp snap of the truck door closing brought you back to the moment. Your fingers were still curled around Ari’s belt loop, so when he started walking toward the front door, you were tugged along. 

“Y’know, your house would look nice with some flower boxes on the front porch,” you said as you quickened your pace to keep up with your trucker’s long legs. “Or by the fence.” You climbed the steps to the porch on Ari’s heels, noticing there wasn’t any outdoor furniture. “A porch swing might be nice, too,” you added offhandedly.

At the door, Ari was focused on his keys, but he shot you a wary look out of the corner of his eye. Otherwise, he gave no indication he’d heard your suggestions for home improvement. Instead, he pushed open the door and led you inside, your fingers still curled around his belt loop, like you were the one afraid of being left behind.

The interior of Ari’s home was similar to the exterior—warm, masculine, neat. The room was painted in a soft blue color, contrasting with dark wooden furniture. The house clearly had a pretty fresh coat of paint, and even though it hadn’t been remodeled in a couple decades, if ever, it was well-kept.

The front door opened up into a living room with a kitchen tucked off to the side. It was spartan, with the only furniture in the space being a small kitchen table with two chairs, a large overstuffed couch, coffee table, recliner chair and a huge TV mounted on the wall. There was nothing in the way of decoration, only the windows in the walls letting in plenty of light.

Ari dropped most of the things he brought in from the truck on the table, then led you through a doorway off the living room into the bedroom. Just like the other spaces, the bedroom was more economical than cozy, with simple furniture—a massive king-sized bed covered in black bedding, some side tables and a dark wooden dresser that acted as a TV stand for another huge flatscreen.

The back wall of the room was made up of mostly windows, all of which overlooked a neat and tidy back yard, with a shed in one corner opposite a detached garage at the end of the driveway. Disentangling yourself from Ari’s belt loop, you spun in a circle, giving Ari’s home another look now that you’d seen most of it.

It needed some work, you decided, to make it truly feel like a home, but you were just the person to do it. 

Ari opened one of the doors off the bedroom, revealing a small room that doubled as a walk-in closet and laundry room. You realized the last door, tucked into the back corner of the room, must’ve been a bathroom. 

You were distracted from exploring that last little bit of Ari’s house when he dumped the bag of laundry he’d brought in and began stripping out of his clothes.

It was the first time you truly got to look at Ari’s fully naked form—and he was glorious. Broad shoulders with a barrel chest covered in dark hair that you knew from experience was softer than his bristly beard. That hair trailed down over his soft tummy, which hid plenty of muscle that you’d felt beneath your fingertips. 

Ari shoved his jeans down, toeing out of his boots and yanking everything off. Heat flushed through your body at the sight of Ari’s cock. Even soft, it was impressive, especially with how it looked framed by two thick, hairy thighs. You wanted to climb your trucker like a tree and rub all over him like a cat in heat, but your feet were rooted to the spot, unable to do anything but look at your man with a mix of awe and desire.

“C’mere, baby,” Ari rumbled, a self-satisfied smirk on his lips as he crooked two fingers in your direction. His command spurred your feet into action; you scampered across the bedroom and into your trucker’s arms, his smirk deepening at your eagerness.

“I really like your house,” you murmured while he made quick work of divesting you of your clothes—his t-shirt and sweatpants. He seemed distracted by your body, with every inch and curve of you on display for him and his greedy hands.

“Yeah?” he asked faintly, his palms smoothing over your shoulders then down your sides, groping at your hips. His eyes flicked up to yours, that wary look back in his gaze. “Next thing you’re gonna tell me, you wanna stay here,” his throat worked as he swallowed. “With me.”

There was a vulnerability in Ari’s eyes you’d never seen before. Without questioning your instincts, you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes, wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pressed your soft body against his much sturdier one. You held his gaze as you spoke slowly, assuredly, making sure he heard you and what you were saying.

“I do want to stay here with you, Ari,” you said, allowing honest emotion to seep into your tone. “I want to go on the road with you, too—I want to be with you.” Your fingers curled in the soft hair at the nape of Ari’s neck while you stared deep into his beautiful eyes, willing him to believe you.

Despite your confession and your honesty, Ari’s gaze was still guarded, but his hands squeezed your hips so tightly, it felt like he was begging you to convince him. You knew he’d never beg with words, but you were certain you knew your trucker well enough to read his body. And he wanted you to continue, so you did.

“Look, Ari,” you said softly, holding his gaze and gently playing with his hair. “Before you, I didn’t have much—a drafty apartment, a job I hated and a boyfriend who hated me but was happy to use me.” 

At the mention of your ex, Ari’s gaze darkened. In spite of his obvious anger, your heart soared because you knew it meant something that Ari hated your ex so much. But you didn’t want to dwell on that asshole, so you quickly continued on.

“What I’m trying to say is, you saved me from a lonely existence,” you said, a sad smile playing at the edges of your lips. Ari’s hands held you tighter and you pressed closer, tilting your head back to hold his gaze. “So you’re stuck with me as long as you’ll have me.” You closed the distance between the two of you and pressed a soft kiss to Ari’s lips.

When you pulled away, emotion was roiling in Ari’s eyes so that they looked like a stormy ocean. His hold on you shifted, one arm banding around your lower back to hold you pinned to his body, his other hand coming up to circle the front of your throat, not squeezing but holding you firmly so he could keep staring into your eyes.

“You never should’ve gotten in my truck, sweetheart,” he rumbled, his voice more gravel than softness. “Because I’m never letting you go.” You could feel Ari’s cock hardening between your bodies, the stiff length trapped against your tummy. “And you’re never leaving me—not ever,” Ari growled, his fingers tightening around your throat like just the thought made him furious. “If you even try, I’ll break your fucking legs and chain you up so you can’t fucking leave.” 

You knew it shouldn’t turn you on to hear Ari threaten you like that, with violence and imprisonment, but your body heated nonetheless, wetness gathering between your thighs. A sinful smile curled the corners of your mouth and your eyes went heavy-lidded as you stared up at your trucker.

“Promise?” you asked in a teasing tone, barely suppressing a laugh.

Ari’s expression darkened, with desire rather than fury, and he squeezed his hand around your throat, choking you lightly as he started walking you backward into the bedroom. Your steps were light on the hardwood floor of his room, your heart buoyant in your chest. Ari’s voice was a deep growl as he spoke, his eyes alight with the promise of wicked sins.

“You’re just as unhinged and fuckin’ depraved as I am, aren’tcha, baby?”

You giggled as Ari threw you down on the bed, bouncing a little on the soft mattress, your hands reaching back to catch yourself and grabbing onto the fluffy comforter. Your tits bounced and caught your trucker’s eye. Ari stared at the movement of your body almost like he was entranced.

“Yes I am, daddy,” you said proudly throwing your shoulders back and sticking your chest out for Ari. If your trucker wanted to admire your body, you’d make it as easy for him as possible, without any ounce of shame in your heart.

Using his knees to spread your legs open, Ari climbed onto the bed, covering your body with his larger form, his hands sliding up your sides to your chest. His big palms and dextrous fingers groped and squeezed the soft flesh of your tits, making your breathing turn into desperate pants. 

“You’re a filthy fucking slut, baby,” he rumbled offhandedly as he lowered his mouth to your chest. Ari’s beard rasped against your soft skin, a rough contrast to the softness of his mouth latching onto your nipple. 

“You love it, daddy,” you said, your giggle dissolving into a gasp when Ari sucked hard on your tit. His tongue laved over the tight peak he’d created, and a low moan slipped from your lips, your fingers diving into Ari’s soft hair to hold him to your chest. 

Your trucker grunted—the closest thing you’d get to a response when he’d clearly moved on from the conversation—and suckled harder on your nipple, dragging his tongue over the sensitive point until you groaned like you were in pain. Your body squirmed beneath Ari’s broad frame, but he held you pinned to the bed with his weight and his hands. 

Ari seemed unconcerned with your responses, focused instead on taking long drags from your nipples with his mouth, holding you right where he wanted even when you were arching up off the bed at the pleasurable tugging sensation. You felt every pull of Ari’s mouth in your clit, the bundle of nerves buzzing between your thighs as your trucker lavished your tits with more attention than they’d seen the entire time you were on the road with him.

All you could do was wind your fingers in his hair, pulling and tugging on the soft strands while Ari sucked on your tits, his mouth and tongue working over your chest until you were gasping with pleasure. But, though he alternated between your tits, he kept up his rough treatment of your tight nipples and soft breasts, pinching your sensitive points and groping your aching flesh, until it bordered on pain. 

You were helpless beneath your trucker, an angry, pulsing throb of arousal growing between your thighs, even as the drag of Ari’s mouth began to hurt. He’d been nipping and biting and sucking on your tits long enough that pleasure gave way to overstimulated pain, but no matter how you begged, Ari didn’t stop his assault on your tits.

“Da-daddy, please,” you whimpered, your fingers tangled in Ari’s hair trying to pull him away from your chest. Pleasure and sharp pain tangled within your body, your hips squirming while your cunt ached to be filled. “Daddy, it hurts.” Even as you said the words, you knew they wouldn’t stop your trucker—they’d only spur him on, which made you flush hotter with arousal. 

Proving you right, your words seemed to encourage Ari. He took a long, hard drag of the nipple in his mouth, pinching the other between two unrelenting fingers, making you scream for him. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and spilled down your cheeks, your scream turning into soft little sobs as you cried through the pain and pleasure Ari was giving you.

“Good, cock whore,” he growled around a mouthful of your tit, his tongue rasping against your oversensitive peak until you were trembling beneath him. “Y’know daddy loves it when you cry for him.” When he finally let go of the nipple he’d pinched, you realized he only did it to slap your tit and make it bounce for him. The sight made Ari groan, and mumble a tortured, “Fuck,” before doing it again. 

You cried out when the stinging pain ricocheted in your body, tangling with the pleasure of his tongue lapping against your other nipple. Even through the pain, your clit throbbed and your hips bucked beneath Ari’s big body.

“Daddy!” you sobbed, your hips rising from the bed, seeking relief, but all you had to grind against was Ari’s soft tummy. Though it felt good at first, the hair covering his stomach quickly grew too drenched with your desire to offer much friction for your needy clit. 

Your trucker went back to sucking on your tits while you humped against him, your cunt slipping over Ari’s stomach as you both grew messier and messier from your arousal. It coated your thighs and his belly, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, not when he was still sucking your tits and nipping at your skin. It dragged you to the edge of a monumental release, but without enough stimulation to your clit or cunt, you never tipped over.

You didn’t know how long Ari spent torturing your tits, abusing your nipples until they ached with more pain than pleasure. You floated in a sea of overwhelming sensations, hovering on the edge of your release for an unfathomable amount of time. 

Until finally, Ari gave one last suckle to each of your nipples and raised up, his darkened blue eyes roving over your pleasure and pain drunk body. A self-satisfied smirk spread across his face.

“Had enough, sweetheart?” he asked in patronizing condescension. 

You were whimpering and sniffling against the tears that were still trickling down your cheeks when Ari leaned up to lick them from your face, his tongue rough against your sensitive skin. You mewled pitifully at the sensation and Ari groaned like the sound brought him physical pleasure. 

“I need to abuse your tits more often, baby,” Ari rumbled, his lips catching more tears as they spilled from your eyes. “Ya make the prettiest fucking sounds when I hurt you.” He nuzzled his nose against the side of your face, kissing your cheek lightly, a softness in the gesture that nearly took your breath away.

“Daddy,” you cried quietly, wrapping your arms around Ari’s shoulders and pulling him close. Your aching nipples brushed against the soft hair on his broad chest, but even that little bit of sensation had you sobbing, your swollen lips babbling, “Daddy, daddy.” 

“That’s it, kiddo, cry for daddy,” Ari rumbled, his mouth ghosting over your lips like he wanted to drink down the sound of your cries. He pressed his thick, stiff cock into your belly, making both of you groan with want. “Ya make me so fucking hard when you cry, cock slut.”

A whine tumbled past your lips and your body squirmed beneath Ari’s larger form, trying to line up his cock with your aching cunt. Unfortunately for you, your trucker wasn’t anywhere near done torturing you. He had too many other ideas to let you sink down on his cock just yet. 

Pressing one last kiss to the apple of your cheek and licking a salty tear from your skin, Ari rose above you and shifted down your body. He dragged his beard down the valley between your breasts, licking the undersides of your tits before sinking his teeth into the softness of your belly. It felt like he was devouring your body as he worked his way down to the place where you needed him most. 

Finally, he settled his big body between your spread thighs, throwing your legs over his shoulders before glancing up and giving you a wolfish grin.

“I’ve wanted to suck your tits and eat your cunt since the day I picked you up, sweetheart,” he said, his eyes dropping to your soaking pussy. Your heart raced in your chest and your thighs trembled under the weight of his gaze. “This cunt is mine, and I’m not coming up for air until I’ve had my fill—d’you hear me, cock whore?” His tone turned hard on those last few words as he flicked his eyes back up to yours, daring you to protest. “If you gotta cry, then cry, but I’m not stopping until I’m done, got it?”

For a moment, you were almost too stunned to respond, but then you managed to nod your head and murmur, “Yes, Ari.” Your voice was hoarse from how much you’d cried already and a little part of you worried for how much more you’d cry if he ate your cunt with the same selfish, greedy desire with which he’d sucked your tits. 

“That’s a good cock whore,” Ari rumbled, his eyes falling back to stare at your dripping slit. He spread your lower lips with his fingers, making your breath hitch as his breath ghosted over you sensitive skin. “All ya gotta do is lay there for me and take it.” 

His thumb teased your clit by flicking lightly against the tip and watching as your whole body twitched. His blue eyes caught yours again, his mouth twisting in a cruel smirk. 

“You can do that, can’t ya, sweetheart?” he asked in that deliciously condescending tone. “You’re so good at earning your keep on your back for me, aren’t ya, baby?”

Ari’s tone was mean and patronizing at the same time, and it only made your pussy flood with even more arousal, your cunt throbbing for attention. Your body squirmed and your lips parted to respond, but your words were swallowed by a moan when Ari dove forward, burying his face between your thighs and eating you out like a starved man.

“Daddy!” you cried, your fingers sliding into Ari’s hair and holding on tight. His mouth slipped against your swollen lower lips, his tongue thrusting deep into your hole while his nose bumped your clit and his beard rasped over your thighs. It was all too much after your trucker had deprived you for so long. 

Ari wrapped his lips around your aching, needy clit and sucked hard, dragging your release out of the depths of your soul. Your back arched up off the bed, your head thrown back, a scream tearing past your lips as you shattered apart. It was pleasure like you’d never experienced it, all the time Ari spent edging you compounding to overwhelm you with wave after wave of bliss. 

Aside from a pleasured groan from Ari as he drank down your arousal, though, your trucker didn’t acknowledge your release, just kept up his relentless assault on your cunt. There was no easing down for you, not when Ari seemed to redouble his efforts like he wanted you to scream for him until you had no voice left.

Like your tits, Ari ravished your cunt with his tongue and teeth, his mouth never ceasing to eat your pussy as he wrung orgasm after orgasm out of your body. Your mind frayed at the edges, your cries for him devolving from words into senseless sounds, your body growing slick with sweat at the effort it took to come so many times.

Pleasure gave way to overstimulated pain, which wobbled back incomprehensibly to pleasure again when Ari thrust two fingers deep into your cunt. Your grip in his hair weakened, your body growing more and more exhausted with each earth-shattering release your trucker insisted on pulling from you. Your chest heaved and you fought to keep your eyes open, black nothingness creeping in around the edges of your vision.

“Ari,” you whimpered, a shaky hand smacking at the arm he’d banded over your lower stomach to keep you pinned to the bed—not that he’d needed it for the last half hour he’d spent eating your pussy while you’d lay limply beneath him. “Ari, please.”

“Not done yet, baby,” he growled, glaring up your body at your pleading expression. “Daddy’s nowhere near done ruining this cunt, so don’t even think about begging me to stop.” He sucked hard on your puffy, swollen clit, making you tilt your head back, tears streaming down your cheeks as you cried out hoarsely.

Not long after, you succumbed to your body’s exhaustion and passed out, your mind drifting away into the darkness of relief. It was a much-needed break from all the sensations Ari forced upon your body, your mind blissfully blank.

You didn’t know how long you languished in the darkness, just like you had no idea how long Ari had spent torturing your tits or tormenting your cunt. 

Even in the darkness where you rested, you knew Ari was still using your body to his heart’s content. He’d been trapped in a truck with you for weeks without getting a chance to taste your cunt and he was ravenous. It didn’t matter that you weren’t conscious, he was going to keep on eating you out until he’d had his fill. 

Ari eventually dragged you ruthlessly from your respite and you woke to the feeling of something gushing out of you. You shrieked in surprise, your arms and legs flailing against the weight of your trucker’s body as humiliation flooded through your body. You thought you’d wet yourself. 

Looking down your body, you found Ari grinning and drinking down the juices squirting from your body. He had two fingers hooked deep in your cunt, rubbing against a spot inside you that lit up every nerve inside you. Belatedly, you realized what Ari had done—he’d made you squirt. For the first time ever.

The thought was fleeting, quickly consumed by the pleasure your trucker was coercing from your being with his hands and mouth. Your head fell back against the bed and you screamed your lungs out, Ari pounding away at your cunt with his fingers and wringing more essence from your body.

“Knew you’d be a squirter,” Ari crowed, lifting himself up on one hand so he could catch your eye. A smirk filled to the brim with arrogant male satisfaction curved his mouth as he stared down at you. “You were born for this, baby,” he went on, his eyes darkening with intensity. “Born to be my filthy little fucktoy—that’s why you were put on this earth, isn’t it, cock whore?”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, your breaths coming in fast little pants as you gasped for enough air to be able to form words. Ari’s fingers were slowly working in and out of your pussy, which was so overstimulated, you were nearly numb. Still, your inner walls were fluttering helplessly around him as he eked out the last dregs of pleasure from your release. 

“Y-yours,” was the only word to slip past your lips, your tongue tripping over the single syllable. It was an answer to his question, but it was also a vow of loyalty. The vulnerability in the whispered word was the first hint at the depth of your feelings for the man above you. 

Ari’s eyes flared, something dark and depraved that had been buried deep inside your trucker coming to the surface. His ring finger joined the two others already pumping deep into your pussy and he looked a little wild as a dirty grin spread across his face. 

“You’re mine and you’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you, sweetheart?” he asked, an undertone of ferocity in his tone. “You’d even let me see if I can fit my whole fist in this tight cunt of yours, huh, baby?” 

Your eyes flew wide as your heart raced faster, your mouth parting to voice your uncertainty, but your protest died on your lips when Ari added a fourth finger to your cunt. The feeling of him stretching your aching hole had intense, heated pleasure washing through your body. There was a slight sting of pain, but it only made the pleasure stand out in sharper relief and you gasped for air. 

It took a long moment for you to gather your thoughts from where they’d been scattered across Ari’s bedspread, your fingers digging into the soft cotton of the blanket to keep yourself grounded. You licked your lips and focused your gaze on your trucker. 

You were messy from your innumerable releases, your body aching and exhausted from everything Ari had done to you, but you still felt desperately empty. You wanted him inside you, you wanted him to live out his wicked fantasy with you—him wanting it made you want to give it to him. You never would’ve expected the idea would turn you on, but in that moment, the thought of Ari fucking you with his fist made you nearly feral with desire.

Licking your dry lips, you held Ari’s gaze as you finally nodded and answered his question. 

“Do it,” you whispered, your voice low and husky from all the crying and screaming you’d done. “See if it can fit—see if you can ruin my tight pussy with your fist, daddy.” 

It was Ari’s turn for his eyes to widen, though only for the briefest of seconds. Then they were darkening, his pupils blowing wide as you proved, yet again, that you were his perfect, perverted match. His chuckle was dark and sinful, the sound as much assurance as any words that he planned to defile you and keep you as his corrupted little fucktoy for a very long time. 

“That’s my good girl,” he rumbled, dropping his focus down to where his four fingers were still pumping lazily in and out of your hole. He started fucking you harder, not speeding up, but working your pussy more intentionally, spreading his fingers and forcing you to stretch around them. “Such a shameless little cock slut—so desperate to be filled you’ll even let me fill you with my fist.”

The sounds of your sopping pussy being fucked by his fingers were obscene, the loud squelching made possible by how soaking wet you’d gotten when Ari made you squirt for him. You were too far gone to feel any ounce of embarrassment—it was too fucking filthy, the noises of your cunt getting fucked filling your ears and making you flood even more around Ari’s fingers. 

“That’s it, baby, I can feel your cunt gushing for me,” Ari rumbled, his gaze focused on where his fingers were plunging inside you. He tucked his thumb into his hand and added it to the rest as he worked you pussy open. “Can’t wait to see your pretty little cunt stretched around my fist, fucktoy—christ.” He bit off his words in a curse as your hole stretched for him, practically sucking on his hand and begging him to plunge further inside.

Meanwhile, all you could do was thrash your head from side to side, your fingers gripping the blanket so tightly you were in danger of losing feeling in them. Your legs were splayed wide open around Ari’s broad body, your thighs trembling, your tits bouncing with every determined thrust of his fingers.

“Da-ddy,” you moaned brokenly, your hips bearing down on his hand, nearly taking all of it inside you. When he didn’t push inside, you let out a sob, tears trickling down your temples. You felt so empty, all you could think about was how good it’d feel to be full of Ari’s big, thick fist. “Need it, daddy, need your fist—please,” you whined in a hoarse, desperate whimper.

“Fuck yeah, cock whore, beg for my fucking fist,” Ari growled, shoving his hand harder against the opening of your cunt, pounding against the entrance with wicked determination. “Gonna train your hole to take it so I can bury my cock in your tight little ass and feel you fucking choke my dick with my fist in your cunt—how’s that sound, baby?” 

At that moment, Ari’s big fist finally pushed past the last of your pussy’s resistance, shoving his thick hand into your fluttering cunt and making you scream. It was a broken, raspy cry, your throat too overused to manage anything more. Your mind blanked as your body processed the feeling of overwhelming fullness, the stinging pain of the stretch and, as a pleasurable heat radiated through your limbs, you decided you liked it. You really liked it.

An indecent moan tumbled from your lips, and it took a moment to realize that the new pulses of pleasure coming from your cunt were the result of Ari rubbing your clit with his thumb in lazy little circles. With a great amount of effort, you wrenched your eyelids open, finding your trucker kneeling between your spread legs, his eyes alight with a depraved desire as he watched your face. 

When he saw you open your eyes, he smirked and rumbled, “There’s my filthy whore.” 

You opened your mouth to respond, but all that came out was a groan of pleasure as Ari began moving his hand inside you, fucking you slowly with his fist, making you feel every inch of him in your body. 

“You really are a gross, disgusting little thing, aren’t you baby?” Ari asked, his tone almost conversational, if not for the gruffness that belied his own arousal. Without pausing to let you even try to respond, he went on. “You begged a filthy trucker like me to fist your tight little cunt and now you’re getting off on it—you’re gonna come from letting me abuse your sweet little hole, huh?” 

“Yuh huh, uh huh,” was all you could manage in response, your mind too overwhelmed with pleasure to form real words. Other parts of your body still worked, though, your hips rocking against Ari’s fist, fucking yourself on his hand while he shoved in and out of your cunt.

Your mindlessness only seemed to amuse Ari, who laughed at your braindead sounds as he leaned down over you so you were staring up into his handsome face. He was the only thing you could see, your vision narrowed to the glint in his blue eyes, the curve of his smirking mouth, and you had the wild thought that your trucker wasn’t just your king, but your god.

Something shifted in Ari’s gaze, like he was flinching away from the devotion in your expression. But your trucker wasn’t one to show weakness, and when he did, it made him angry. Suddenly, his face twisted with rage and he started fucking you harder, the thrusting of his fist in your cunt nearly punishing. 

“You deserve this, baby,” he growled. “You got in my truck and you stayed in my truck, then you came home with me,” he seethed like he was outraged at you for what you’d done. His whole expression darkened with fury as he pounded into your cunt with his fist. “You asked for this, so you fucking deserve to be used like a gross little fucktoy by a dirty trucker like me.” 

Ari’s thumb rubbed your puffy, abused clit, fucking you with his fist buried in your cunt, and your entire world splintered apart. Your mouth opened wide in a silent scream as your entire body went taut, your pussy clenching down so hard on Ari’s hand that he couldn’t move it anymore—but his thumb never stopped rubbing your clit. The most intense orgasm of your life dragged on and on, waves of pleasure crashing through your body until your vision whited out entirely.

It was with a fierce determination that you clawed your way back to awareness, the sight of Ari’s face limned in golden light the first thing you saw. 

“Thank you, god,” you mumbled, barely knowing what you were saying or why. All you knew was that you enjoyed the deep rumble of Ari’s low laughter, his mood shifting as swiftly as the wind.

“You did well, baby,” Ari murmured, kissing your swollen and clumsy lips. It was like his fury had been swept away by the ocean of your pleasure, and you were left reeling a little. However, you were quickly distracted by the feeling of him carefully pulling his hand from your pussy.

You groaned into his mouth at the emptiness he left behind, and he swallowed the sound down, still laughing lightly at your mindlessness. But Ari’s sweetness didn’t last long, his own desire apparent in the way he deepened the kiss, plunging his tongue into your mouth and taking control.

“Now it’s my turn,” he muttered darkly when he pulled away. Your sluggish mind didn’t know what to make of his words until he was rolling you over onto your stomach. You flopped down on a stretch of clean, dry bedspread and sank into it, inhaling the barest hint of Ari’s musky scent, relaxing even more on instinct.

You felt Ari’s wet knuckles graze your ass and then he was spreading you open, the broad tip of his cock pushing against your tight rosebud. You could feel he was slick and imagined he’d used the fist that had been inside you to coat himself in your juices. Slowly, he sank into your body, getting no resistance from your tightest hole because you were too exhausted to clench up. 

“That’s it, filthy slut, take daddy’s cock like a perfect little fucktoy,” he grunted as he plunged inside. When he was buried to the root, he grunted his pleasure. Already you could feel his length twitching, the many hours of edging himself catching up to Ari. “Just lay there and let daddy use you—it’s the least ya can do for me, sweetheart, for how many times I made you come.”

You huffed a tired laugh at that, knowing Ari made you come so many times for his amusement more than your own. Still, you couldn’t help but notice that his voice didn’t sound as mean and ruthless as it normally did. You weren’t sure if it was your own exhaustion or if he was actually softening a little bit, but you were too tired to ruminate on it, instead focusing on how good it felt for Ari to fuck your ass. 

It wasn’t long before your trucker was groaning in your ear and pounding into your ass, the sound of his skin smacking against your own filling the room. 

You were wrung out, exhausted and had come more times than you could count, but Ari forced one last release from you, his fingers digging beneath your body and rubbing your abused clit until you were sobbing and shuddering through one final release, your clenching ass milking every last drop of come from your trucker’s balls as he spilled inside you.

Then, you let the darkness overtake you again, falling willingly into its restful embrace knowing you were safe at home with your trucker.

When you came to, you were surrounded by warmth, the familiar scent of Ari enveloping you. His bare chest was pressed to your back, his arms circling your body and holding you close. For once, you were sitting in his lap and his cock wasn’t inside you.

Drowsily, you blinked your eyes open, finding you and Ari were submerged in a large bathtub in the bathroom you hadn’t seen yet. The warm, golden light of sunset was filling the room and you took in your surroundings. Like the rest of the house, the bathroom wasn’t modern, though you couldn’t say how old it was. Still, it was neat and much cleaner than any of the bathrooms you’d used while on the road. 

Stretching your limbs languidly, you delighted in the slight soreness in your body, feeling like you’d been put through an intense workout, though nothing you couldn’t handle. Your skin felt lightly chafed, like Ari had scrubbed you down in the perfectly heated water—and based on the pruning of your fingers, you’d been in the bath long enough for him to have cleaned you both. 

Relaxing back into Ari’s arms, you hummed softly with contentment and craned your neck against his shoulder to press a kiss to the underside of his beard, just along the freshly trimmed edge. 

“Did you mean it?” your trucker asked in gruff, gravelly voice, like he was dredging the words up from the very depths of his dark heart.

You made a questioning sound, burying your face in his beard and nuzzling your mean and no-longer-filthy trucker. It surprised you how much you missed the muskiness of his scent when he’d been on the road and unable to bathe as much. You pushed that thought aside and refocused on Ari.

“When you said you wanted to stay,” he clarified, “Did you mean it?” 

“I did,” you answered simply, curling up and turning your body so you could lay your cheek against Ari’s chest. His heartbeat sounded a little unsteady in his ribcage, faster than usual. You placed your palm over his sternum, the gesture meant to be comforting, as you asked, “Do you think you’ll ever believe it?”

A frustrated sound rumbled deep in Ari’s chest and his arms tightened around you. “I’m trying,” he rasped, the sound desperate, almost pleading. He cleared his throat before repeating himself in a calmer tone, “I’m trying.”

Sitting up, you cupped Ari’s face in both your hands, your fingers scratching lightly through the beard along his jaw in the way you knew he liked. With a faint smile curling your lips, you stared into your trucker’s eyes, willing him to hear the words you were about to say. 

“You’re my king, Ari,” you said in a quiet, but determined tone. “I live to serve you—and I’m happy to do so.” 

Ari’s gaze roved over your expression for a long moment before his mouth curved into an arrogant smirk.

“Does that mean you’ll do anything I want, baby?” he asked, a familiar mocking seeping into his tone. “You gonna stay with me and let me do all the gross, disgusting things I want to your body?” His voice was almost warm, and you couldn’t help the happiness that bloomed in your heart.

An impish smile spread across your face and it was with great effort that you held back a giggle. 

“Yes, daddy,” you said in the most serious tone you could manage, which wasn’t very serious at all with your mouth widening into a happy grin.

Ari pulled you in close with his arms around your waist and he captured your mouth in a searing kiss. It was slow and heated, quickly burning brighter and faster. His tongue slipped past your lips, staking a claim on your body as well as your heart and soul. 

You knew it would take Ari time to truly believe you weren’t going anywhere, but you also knew you were going to enjoy every moment of proving to him that you wanted to stay with him. And while you were at his house, you planned to do everything in your power to show your trucker that you wanted to be a part of his life—that you were eager to build a life together with him. 

You were determined to make his home your home, and be a safe harbor for his heart, just like he was for yours.

In the week that followed your first day at home with Ari, you learned quite a lot about your trucker that you never would have on the road. 

For instance, you were shocked to discover that Ari cooked—and he cooked well. Which was good because you were hopeless in the kitchen, though that didn’t stop him from putting you to work.

While he chopped veggies and seared steaks, you kept Ari company. That meant you did whatever Ari wanted you to do to amuse him. Sometimes he sat you on the counter and fed you bites of what he was making, asking your opinion on it, which you gave honestly.

More often than not, though, Ari liked putting you on your knees on the unforgiving linoleum of his kitchen. He’d make you degrade yourself by humping against his leg, your mouth tasked with keeping his cock warm while he cooked. 

Ari would chuckle at the desperate little whines that would slip from your lips when he stepped away to grab something from the fridge. He’d move back to you slowly, taking his time before sliding his cock back inside your mouth, filling you up while his leg pressed against your messy cunt. 

“That’s a good cock whore,” he’d coo condescendingly, patting your head before going back to what he was doing. 

You always knew when dinner was almost ready because Ari would fuck your mouth, shoving his cock deep into your throat despite the way you choked and gagged on his hard length. Your head would bang against the cabinets at your back until Ari grabbed your head with both hands, holding you still while you skull-fucked you until he emptied his balls into your mouth.

When he was done, he’d wrap a hand around your throat and drag you up from the floor, a smug, self-satisfied smirk on his lips. You’d take care of his cock for him, gently putting it back in his pants and zipping him up while he stared deep into your eyes, which would be hazy with unslaked need. 

“Did you enjoy your appetizer, kiddo?” he’d ask meanly, pressing two fingers into your mouth and onto your tongue, making sure you swallowed every drop of his come. 

“Yes, daddy,” you’d mumble around his fingers, the corners of your mouth curling in a sweet smile. 

It’d always make Ari chuckle, his hands releasing you before swatting your ass lightly and sending you to sit at the table while he finished making dinner. 

Everything Ari cooked was delicious, and you ate it eagerly. The nights when you sat down to dinner with the taste of his come on your tongue were your favorite. Somehow, eating his food with his come in your belly made it all the more satisfying.

A few days after Ari brought you home, he took you shopping for new clothes to replace the wardrobe you’d left behind when he took you. It was a relief to get some clothes of your own, but since Ari had taken your phone and wallet that first night and never returned them, he was the one paying. And since he was paying, he insisted he should have final say over everything you bought. 

You weren’t all that surprised to learn that Ari wanted to put you in the sluttiest outfits he could find. He picked out short skirts that barely covered your ass, thin tops that left little about your tits to the imagination, and tight, tiny dresses that made you look like you worked at a strip club. 

The clothes Ari liked were a far cry from what you typically wore, but you found you didn’t mind them as much as you would’ve expected. It helped that Ari’s eyes flared with arousal whenever you tried on one of the slutty dresses he’d picked out. 

While you put on a fashion show in the changing room, he had to adjust himself every time you came out in a new outfit, and yet you could still see his thick bulge pressing against his zipper. It gave you a rush of pride and power, and it made you love everything he’d picked out for you. 

Still, you found your eyes drifting to some pretty floral dresses. They weren’t anything like the slutty clothes Ari had gravitated to, but you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting something soft and sweet to wear sometimes. 

If Ari saw you looking at the dresses, you didn’t know it. 

A few hours into your shopping trip, you noticed Ari hadn’t bought you any bras or underwear and when you asked your trucker about it, he told you he didn’t want you wearing them. They’d just get in his way. 

You were looking at some sexy lingerie, and you held it up, turning to your trucker and asking, “Wouldn’t you like to see me in a pretty, lacy little matching set, all dolled up just for you, daddy?” A teasing smile curved your lips, but your trucker didn’t seem swayed.

“I like seeing you in my shirts or nothing at all,” Ari said, nothing but genuine honesty in his voice as his eyes raked down your body. You knew from the heat of his gaze that he was picturing you dressed how he’d said—wearing one of his t-shirts or flannels, or wearing nothing at all. 

Your heart stuttered in your chest before it began galloping, his words, which were almost nice, sinking in and making you desperate to show him how much you appreciated them. Tossing the lingerie aside, you dragged Ari into the dressing room and pushed him down onto the bench in one of the stalls. 

While you bounced on his cock, he wrapped a hand around your throat, choking you hard and cutting off your air to keep you quiet enough not to get caught. He came with a quiet groan while you trembled through your own release, your cunt clenching his cock hard and eagerly taking all of his come. 

When you were both sated, you kissed Ari hard, relishing the way his beard scraped against your cheeks. He held you pinned to his chest, kissing you back just as hard. 

You stumbled out of the dressing room with beard burn on your cheeks and a dazed smile on your face, but you couldn’t care less if everyone in the store knew what you and your trucker had done. It had felt too good to defile the dressing room and thank him for his compliment.

It wasn’t until you got home and were putting away all the clothing Ari had purchased that you found some of the pretty floral dresses you’d eyed amid the haul. A smile stretched across your face and you quickly finished your task before you went looking for Ari to show him again how much you appreciated everything he did and said to take care of you and give you what you wanted.

You were only a little surprised to learn that Ari liked waking you up with his mouth on your pussy almost as much as he liked waking you up by pumping you full of come. He’d emptied himself into you most mornings while you were on the road, but he had nowhere to be while you were at home, and he enjoyed eating you out until you woke to the feeling of coming apart on his tongue.

Although Ari typically woke before you, there were a few rare occasions when you were up before him. You took full advantage, sneaking down his broad, hairy body before taking his soft cock into your mouth. You loved playing with him while he was sleeping, your mean trucker peaceful for a short time. 

You’d gently lick and kiss and suckle on Ari’s cock, coaxing him to harden in your warm, wet mouth. You loved the feeling of him growing inside you, turning you on and making you wet as you worked his cock. 

Those mornings were your only opportunity to really take your time worshipping your trucker’s cock the way you felt Ari deserved. When he was awake, he always needed to take control, setting the pace of how you sucked his cock, how he fucked you, all of it. 

But when Ari was sleeping, you had all the power. And you chose to use it to worship at the altar of Ari’s cock and balls, lavishing them with your tongue and lips, getting them nice and wet and messy, covered in your drool mixing with his precum. You spent a long, long time suckling his sac gently in your mouth, feeling the weight of his balls on your tongue, before tracing every vein of his shaft until you’d committed it to memory.

You’d do everything you could to make sure Ari didn’t wake up, so you could play with his cock as long as you wanted. You knew that once he woke, he’d take over, and while you loved the way he dominated every bit of your body, you enjoyed worshipping him, too.

What you didn’t know was that Ari almost always woke long before he made it known to you. He’d lay there, pretending he was still asleep, and let you do whatever you wanted to his cock. It surprised him each time, not just that you were still in his bed, but that you were willingly sucking his cock. And not just sucking it, but adoring it. 

For you, he could push down his need to dominate, at least for a little while. 

Almost a week into being at Ari’s, you were surprised at how difficult it was to ask him for something you’d been thinking about since those first few nights in his rig. It took you some time, a few days of settling into a routine at Ari’s house, but one night after your trucker had fucked you six ways from Sunday, you gathered your courage to ask. 

“Daddy, can I have a collar?” 

As soon as the question slipped past your lips, you wished you could gather the words back up and hide them under your tongue. Silence hung between you and your trucker for a moment, and you hoped he’d already fallen asleep so he wouldn’t hear the thread of aching want in your tone.

Sure, Ari had shown you on a few occasions that he was willing to give you what you wanted—the floral dresses and the fact that he kept your favorite candy stocked in his house were proof enough. But you’d never explicitly asked him for anything. And you weren’t sure how he’d respond to a direct request. 

“A collar?” Ari mumbled, stirring beneath you like he was dragging himself away from the edge of sleep. 

He was laying on his back, his arm banded around your waist to hold your body sprawled across his broad chest. Your face was half smushed into his beefy pecs, your fingertips stroking idly through the dark hair that was slightly damp with sweat from the vigorous ways he’d fucked you. 

Your fingertips stilled when you heard him speak, and you held your breath, waiting for his reaction.

“What d’ya want a collar for, kiddo?” he asked. His big arms dragged your body up his chest until your cheek was pressed to his mouth. He brushed a sleepy kiss to your skin, making you sigh happily. 

His mouth worked against your cheek and the rasp of his beard drew a breathy giggle from your lips. It was so rare for Ari to be so sweet and playful, but if you sank into it, you’d never be able to answer his question. So you turned your face, burying it in Ari’s neck as you considered how to respond. Finally, you settled on the truth.

“I liked when you used your belt as a collar on me,” you murmured, referencing that first night in his rig. Your voice was quieter than a whisper, but since your mouth was so close to his ear, you knew Ari could hear you. “I liked when you tied me to you or tied me up inside the truck, and I…” You paused collecting your thoughts. “I want that again.”

Ari’s hands skimmed down the sides of your body and back up while he hummed a sound of acknowledgment. His thumbs brushed the edges of your nipples and you sucked in a sharp breath, but he didn’t seem to notice or care about the way his hands were warming your body with renewed desire. 

“Let me get this straight,” he started, his voice roughened with almost-sleep and making him sound more menacing. That only served to stoke a new heat to life between your thighs. “You want to stay with me, but you want me to tie you up like I think you’re gonna run from me?” he rumbled, confusion clear in his voice. “I thought you wanted me to trust that you wanted to stay, baby?”

You turned your trucker’s words over in your mind trying to figure out where you’d gone wrong in your explanation. Lifting your head from where it had been buried in Ari’s neck, you let your gaze take in his expression, which was a little guarded and plenty confused. You shook your head slowly, your eyes holding his gaze.

“I want to wear something that marks me as yours, Ari,” you explained, choosing your words carefully, trying to express the desire buried deep in your heart. “I want to be bound to you forever, and I want something that reminds both of us of that bond.”

Ari tilted his head on the pillow where he lay, staring at you for a second before a grin tugged up the corners of his mouth, his blue eyes sparkling with playfulness. “Y’know, baby,” he drawled, his grin deepening into an almost mocking expression. “I think most girls would be askin’ for a ring and a wedding, not a collar.”

For a long moment, you were stunned by Ari’s words. You hadn’t even made the connection between your desire and the similarities to getting married. You hardly dared to imagine a day when your trucker would put a ring on your finger, so it was an immense surprise that he’d be the first to bring it up.

Overwhelmed with emotion, you dropped your head to his neck, burying your face in his beard. Before you could think better of it, you sank your teeth into Ari’s beard until they hit skin, biting down on your trucker until a growl rumbled in his chest. The vibrations and his chest hair teased your nipples into tight peaks, the heat between your thighs growing more insistent.

“You can give me a ring later, daddy,” you murmured in a husky voice when you finally pulled away from Ari’s beard. “Maybe in a couple years.” Your words were light and breathy as you laughed into the underside of his jaw. 

Ari flipped you over with a growl, his hips slotting perfectly between your thighs, his hard cock sliding between the swollen and drenched folds of your cunt. “What the fuck have you done to me, woman?” he seethed, lining the head of his cock up with your tight hole and sliding inside without needing to reach down to guide it in. 

His words were lost to the haze of your mind, pleasure overwhelming your body as he split you open on his big cock. All you could manage was to arch your spine and press down on his hard length, taking him deeper into the center of your being. 

“Never thought about marriage or rings before,” he fumed, sounding like he was talking to himself. He might as well have been since the way he fucked you, roughly driving your body into the mattress, made it impossible for you to respond. “But a few weeks with you and I wanna make you mine in every fucking way possible.”

Each of Ari’s words were punctuated by a short, brutal thrust, his hips snapping into yours to bury his cock as deep in your cunt as possible. He fucked you like he was furious with you, and you loved it. You clung to his biceps as he pounded into you, your nails digging into his skin in a way that only made him fuck you harder, until tears sprang to your eyes at the delicious combination of pain and pleasure.

“Fine, baby, I’ll get you a collar,” Ari rumbled, ducking down to lick up the tears that splashed onto your cheeks, a rumbling groan of pleasure reverberating in his beefy chest. “I’ll get you a tag with my name on it.” His lips replaced his tongue as your trucker brushed sweet kisses to the apples of your cheeks while you cried harder, his cock pummeling your cunt like he wanted to imprint himself in your body. “But one day I’m gonna put a ring on your fucking finger and you’re gonna take my last name—and you’ll be all fucking mine.”

Ari wrapped one of his big hands around your throat and you let out a helpless moan, staring up at your trucker while he hovered above you. There was a wild look in his eye that matched the feral way he fucked you like a beast. Your heart thumped in your chest, devotion and something you weren’t yet ready to name thrumming through your body. 

A smile curled the edges of your mouth and Ari’s eyes darkened.

“Ya gonna let me do all that, baby?” Ari hissed over the sound of his thighs slapping against yours. He tried to mask his emotions in fury, but you knew your trucker well enough to see the incredulity hidden beneath. The bed under you creaked, but neither of you paid it any mind. “Ya want daddy to claim you in every way he can think of, kiddo?”

“Yes, daddy,” you cried on a gasp, not needing to think your answer through before voicing it. In fact, you had some ideas of your own for how he could claim you and they slipped past your lips, coming out as a choked whine. “Tattoo your name over my heart—mark me, Ari, claim me forever.”

“Oh fuck,” Ari grunted, his cock twitching inside you. Your trucker clearly liked the idea and you couldn’t help the satisfied smirk that pulled on your lips. His eyes blazed when he saw the expression. “You’re a gross, filthy little fucktoy, ya know that, baby?” he growled seconds before capturing your lips in a fierce kiss. 

Ari rutted into you, squeezing your throat in his hand and licking away your tears in between claiming your mouth with his own. It wasn’t long before he came, groaning as he spilled his come deep in your cunt. 

Heat filled you as your own pleasure crested, and in the split second before you followed him over the edge, you had the wild thought that one day you wanted him to plant his seed in womb until it takes. You wanted him to knock you up until you were swelling with his child. You wanted him to claim you in the most primal and ancient way possible.

But that was a conversation for a long time in the future. Your IUD was still very much in place, and keeping you from getting pregnant. You knew that was for the best.

Still, in that moment, the thought of Ari knocking you up turned you on so much that it sent you careening into an ocean of pleasure, wave after wave of bliss washing over you. A choked cry fled your lips as you came, your body clenching tight and milking every drop of your trucker’s come into the depths of your cunt.

When your pleasure had ebbed, Ari collapsed on top of you, rolling onto his side and gathering you up against his chest. He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, the gesture sweet enough that you knew it was an answer to your initial question. Happily, you snuggled into his warm chest and the two of you fell asleep together. 

The next morning, you sat in Ari’s lap in the recliner chair in his living room and the two of you picked out a few collars together from some online stores. 

One was a thick black leather collar, with a metal loop that Ari could attach a leash to, which he also added to his cart. He’d be able to tie your collar to his belt loop, like he’d done those first few nights in his rig, or wrap a chain around his bed frame and tie you to it while you were at his house. 

Another collar was a slip chain that Ari could pull to choke you. That one excited both of you, especially since it looked like a normal necklace, which meant you could wear it out in public. The thought that Ari could choke you whenever and wherever he wanted turned both of you on.

The last collar was a delicate chain necklace with a heart pendant attached. The sweet heart-shaped tag would be engraved with ‘Baby’ on the front, while the back would have Ari’s full name and phone number. In case you got lost, he said with a chuckle. The best part of that one was it had a locking mechanism in the back, so only Ari would be able to put it on and take it off. 

Once the orders were placed for your new collars, you slid out of Ari’s lap and down to the floor. Kneeling at his feet between his thighs, you lowered your face to the bulge in his pants, intent on showing your trucker how much you appreciated him for giving you what you wanted. 

As time went on, the bungalow by the beach started to feel properly like home. It helped that your trucker had fucked you on every surface of his house, but it was the small things that really made you feel like you belonged—your clothes hanging in his closet, your favorite foods in his kitchen, the swing waiting to be hung up on the front porch. 

It had been about a month since Ari had first picked you up and your old life never felt further away. You were content with letting it slip away into your past, focusing instead on building your new life with your trucker. But fate was a fickle thing, and it seemed your old life wasn’t so willing to let you go.

One evening, a week or so after Ari first brought you home, you were sitting in his lap in his recliner, his cock buried in your ass while a baseball game played on the massive TV in the living room. Your back was to Ari’s chest, a blanket pulled over your front since it was a cold spring night. He played idly with your pussy, teasing your folds with light touches while you dozed. 

However, you jolted awake when your name came from the TV. Wrenching your eyes open, you were met with the sight of a news anchor reporting a story of a missing girl with your picture posted on the screen next to their head. 

Ari must’ve roused too, because his arms wrapped tightly around your front, holding you pinned to his lap. Together, you watched the news report in rapt silence.

“Police have arrested the missing girl’s boyfriend on suspicion of murder,” the anchor reported, the image of your face dissolving into footage of your ex being taken into custody. His face was twisted with rage and, though there was no sound, you could read his lips protesting his innocence.

“As a reminder, she was last seen along highway 78, though police reports indicate her boyfriend was the last to see her there when he forced her out of his vehicle.” The anchor paused for a moment before continuing, the picture on the screen shifting back to them at their desk. A phone number appeared along the bottom of the screen. “If anyone has any information, or has seen the missing girl, please call the number on screen.”

Your photo filled the screen, and you took a moment to look at yourself. The image had been pulled from one of your social media profiles, it was a selfie you’d taken and sent to your ex. When he hadn’t replied, you’d posted it online hoping for the attention you’d craved. Though you were smiling in the picture, there was a sadness in your eyes that you realized you hadn’t felt in a few weeks. 

Not since Ari picked you up and kept you. 

Gratefulness filled your chest, making your heart feel like it was floating. You sank back into Ari’s body, so consumed with how much happier you were in your new life that you hadn’t noticed he’d paused the live report on the shot of your face and the tip line number. You were brought back to the present by your trucker’s voice in your ear.

“Everyone thinks you’re dead,” he mumbled, like he was talking to himself. There was something in his voice that you didn’t recognize.

Shifting your head on his shoulder, you turned and craned your neck so you could see Ari’s expression. He looked like he was deep in thought, something like glee hidden beneath the contemplation etched into the lines of his face.

Your trucker’s words finally made the rest of the news report sink in. 

Not only did everyone think you were dead, but your ex had been arrested on suspicion of murder—your murder. The police thought he’d killed you. It seemed like everyone thought he’d killed you. 

Guilt roiled in your stomach at the thought of your ex sitting in jail while you were sitting on Ari’s lap. You were alive and well and doing better than you ever had while you’d been with your ex. And you tended to believe that the best revenge was living well, so you felt like you knew what you had to do.

“We should probably tell someone I’m not dead,” you said, threading your fingers through Ari’s beard and pulling his face to look at you. His eyes snapped into focus and he stared down into your face. You could tell the moment he realized you felt guilty, a devious smirk curving his lips.

“Now, why would we do that?” he asked in an arrogant drawl. 

Your heart stuttered in your chest, your mouth turning down at the corners into a frown as you stared at your trucker in confusion. “Because I’m not?” you said, though the inflection of your tone made the statement sound more like a question. You weren’t sure what Ari was getting at, but it made you nervous.

Ari’s hand cupped your cheek, his thumb stroking over your skin in a way that was clearly meant to soothe you, but that evil smile on his face only made you more uncertain. 

“Your little shit of an ex could have killed you,” Ari growled, the reality of his words wiping the smirk from his face. His expression twisted into one of fury as he continued to speak. “You could’ve frozen to death or been picked up by someone much, much worse than me.” His arm around your waist tightened, holding you so firmly it nearly hurt. “He deserves to fucking rot in prison for the danger he put you in.”

The vehemence of Ari’s tone made it clear he was serious. He truly believed your ex was getting what he deserved because even if he didn’t kill you, he could have with his actions. And that was a criminal offense in Ari’s eyes.

It was fucked up, but your heart surged with affection for your trucker. You pulled him down for a kiss using your grip on his beard, showing him with your mouth just how much you liked his way of showing he cared. It was a little awkward, with the way your neck was craned, but you didn’t care. 

When you pulled away, you were breathing harshly and desperate to go back to what you and Ari had been doing before the news report came on the TV. However, there was a niggling thought in your brain and you couldn’t help asking the question that seemed most obvious to you. 

“Won’t they just let him go when someone figures out I’m not dead?”

Another devious smirk slashed across Ari’s face, his hand wrapping around the front of your throat so he could ensure you stayed looking at him. Instead of answering your question, he asked one of his own. 

“You said you wanted to stay with me, you said you wanted to be mind forever—did you mean it, baby?” 

Unlike that first night when Ari had asked you something similar, he no longer sounded uncertain or insecure. Instead, Ari’s question sounded more like he was checking in with you, like he finally trusted you and was simply making sure nothing had changed. Hope spread warmly through your body and you smiled at your trucker. 

“Yes, Ari,” you said easily, genuine honesty plain in your voice. “I meant it.”

Ari’s smirk bloomed into a wide grin, greedy delight and something like authentic happiness sparkling in his eyes. He kissed you, quick and fierce, like he was rewarding your honesty and thanking you for it at the same time. 

When he pulled away, he kept your neck craned so he could watch your face, while his other hand drifted down to settle between your thighs. Beneath you, he rocked his hips, fucking into your ass hard enough to make you gasp.

“I have some friends that can help us, baby,” Ari said, his fingers diving into your cunt and teasing you open. They felt so thick inside you, your hole feeling smaller with his big cock buried in your ass. “They’ll help me give you what you want, but it’ll come at a price.”

Words escaped you, leaving you to moan mindlessly. You stared into Ari’s eyes, mesmerized by the beauty of your trucker while he fucked you like his own personal fucktoy. All you could do was sit on his lap and take his cock and his fingers, and you did so gladly. He was your king and you’d do anything he said.

“You willing to do anything I tell ya, baby?” he asked, his mouth curving into another depraved smirk. Your trucker began grinding the heel of his palm against your clit while he fucked you with his fingers and cock. “Even if it means I let my friends have free use of your holes for a whole night?” 

A shiver of desire raced down your spine and your whole body clenched tight at the delicious thought of Ari using your body to pay his friends. He grunted, fucking you harder and wringing a loud, filthy moan from your mouth. He cut off the sound by squeezing your throat, grinning at you as you spluttered and clenched around his fingers and cock.

When he eased up enough to finally let you answer his questions, you nodded, words falling from your lips so fast they almost stumbled over each other.

“I’ll do anything for you, daddy,” you said on a gasp as you pulled in some much-needed air. Your mind was swimming in a haze of pleasure, both from his words and from the way he perfectly worked your body. “I’ll do anything to stay with you, Ari, I promise.” 

Your eyes slid closed, your words dissolving into another moan as Ari’s hand slapped against your clit while he fucked your cunt with his fingers. Your ass was bouncing on his cock and it was too much, it felt too good. But his fingers squeezing the sides of your neck had you wrenching your eyes open, finding Ari’s blue eyes flaring with emotion.

You saw it in Ari’s gaze. Your trucker finally—finally—believed you. He believed you wanted to stay with him, and that you would do anything for him. From the look in his eye and the ruthless way he fucked you with intent, Ari was going to make you keep all your promises to him.

You couldn’t wait. Because it meant you were staying with your trucker. Forever.

trucker king masterlist

[filthy-gorgeous-library]

- incoherent excited screaming for another wild ride of navy's talented writing -

There's Something in the Water AU Teaser

Welcome to South Bunker! A gem of a town so well hidden it doesn't even appear on your GPS.

Stop at the diner for a bite to eat. Food so good you'll immediately want a nap before you even finish your plate.

Enjoying your cabin? That's what we love to hear, but you may want to keep your curtains closed. Some of the neighbors are a bit nosy.

Car trouble? That happens a lot around here, but don't worry. We have the best mechanic around.

Venture into the woods for a hike, but don't stray from the path and be wary of the hunters. They can get a little trigger happy.

It's truly picturesque when the sun goes down. It almost distracts you from the screams.

Oh, you're leaving?

No, you're not.

Welcome home.

[filthy-gorgeous-library]

Best bridesmaid ever

Summary: You always dreamed of letting your dirtiest fantasies become reality. Your bridesmaid makes it happen.

Pairing: fem!Reader x Nick Fowler, Ari Levinson, Lloyd Hansen, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Warnings: consensual non-con/dub-con, 18+ only, fake attack, implied kidnapping, gangbang, multiple partners, taking turns, unprotected sex, smut, doggy style, pussy slapping, creampie, oral male rec, titty fuck, cum play, anal sex, voyeurism, mentions of sex tape, mentions of callboys/prostitution, masturbation, lies, dark!fic, plot twist, open ending

Words: 4,1 k

Please read the warnings before reading the story. The story contains triggering content.

The room is crowded with your best friends. Your bachelorette party is in full swing. Still, you’re not in a cheery mood. This should be one of your best days, but it isn’t.

You put on a fake smile and try to not ruin the night for your friends too.

“Naughty, naughty,” you giggle as you unpack your best friend’s gift. She gifted you a bunny vibrator. “I will marry to have a dick around, you know.”

“A boring dick fucking you all vanilla,” she winks at you. “This is for emergencies.”

You sigh, deeply. Penelope isn’t wrong. You can’t deny that you are bored most of the time you have sex with your fiancé. He doesn’t put much effort into satisfying your needs but is a nice guy.

“You need a good fuck before you marry that boring loser,” she smirks darkly, making the others chuckle. You roll your eyes at her comment. Yes, your fiancé is boring and all vanilla, but you love him.

“That is enough,” you get up and glare at Penelope. “I know you are jealous of my relationship but that’s no reason to talk like that about him. Especially not at my bachelorette party.”

“Bitch,” she gets up to push you toward the couch. “I should take my gift and leave.” You frown deeply. Pennie never talked like that to you before.

“Maybe it’s time to teach her some manners.” You gasp as five masked men storm into the living room. They get guns out and aim them at your friends. “Come over here, little bride.” One of them aims his gun at you. “Right. Fucking. Now.”

You whimper but slowly move toward the man. He smirks and grabs your arm to drag you out of the room. “Guys, we got the honey pot. Let’s start the party!”

More men stream into the room. They pounce on your friends, but five of them follow the one dragging you with him out of the room.

“Party time,” the man purrs in your ear. He tugs his gun away and rips your dress open. “Look at this, my friends.”

“Who are you?” You try to wiggle in his grip and slap against his shoulders. ”Get off me, bastard!”

You hear your friends; they scream and holler as the man guides you toward the bedroom at the house you rented for your bachelorette party.

“Oh, sunshine,” the man purrs and dips his head as you try to find a way to escape and save your friends. “We will get inside of you, all of us. You are fair game for our cocks.”

This must be a nightmare. The men slam the door shut, locking it as you tremble under their gazes.

“I want her cunt first,” the man throws your ruined dress over his shoulder. He smirks and cups his crotch when you try to cover yourself. “You can take the lingerie off on your own, or I’ll rip it down your ass.”

Your eyes round when the men unbuckle their belts in sync. You sniffle and shake your head.

“Last warning, sunshine,” the first guy taunts, and steps toward you to grasp for your bra and rip it open. “You’ll see, if you follow orders tonight, you’ll not get hurt. Now, panties off.”

You shake your head, and he sighs deeply.

“Fine, turn around then,” he grabs your neck, holding your throat in a tight grip. You slap him and try to scratch him, but you end up on the bed, face first. “Fuck me, that’s a naughty whore.”

The man grips your ass, spreading your cheeks to get a better look at your crotchless panties. “I guess she’ll get fucked with her panties own, guys.”

“Hurry the fuck up, Hansen,” one of the other guys finally speaks. “I got a raging hard-on and don’t want to go for the bridesmaids. I want to ruin the bride.”

“Please…don’t,” you choked out a whimper when Hansen moves his hands over your ass. His hand slip between your legs to part your pussy lips. He hums as your slick covers his fingers. “I’m going to marry.”

“I don’t give a shit,” Hansen slaps your pussy, once, twice, three times. “You will stay like this and wait for my cock to fill this needy hole. And after I’m done with your hole, my friends will have a go too.”

All you can do is bite the cushion and close your eyes. If this is a bad dream, you will wake soon and go back to your life.

“Shit, look at that perfect pussy,” one of the other men says. He slaps your ass, making it sting as it feels like it’s made of metal. “Thank me when I compliment you.”

“Barnes, relax,” a third guy grunts. “She will take your dick soon enough. I want to know if Hansen is all talk or if he can fuck like a stallion.”

“You hear the other three men step closer to the bed. They unzip their pants, and you sniffle again hearing the guy named Hansen unzip his pants too. His cock slaps against your pussy lips seconds later, making your body go stiff.

“Get away from me,” you scream and try to crawl away, but Hansen grabs your legs and drags you toward the edge of the bed. He grasps for your arms, holding them behind your back.

“Give me the handcuffs,” Hansen grunts. “I gotta tame that beast of a mare. She’ll feel me in her bones for days and maybe her ass too.”

He restraints your wrists behind your back, smirking as you sniffle silently.

“Relax that cunt,” he purrs and runs his erection up and down your slit. “It’s a nice little cunt, and I’d hate ruining it.”

“Please don’t hurt me,” you plea. “I’ll do anything you want to.”

He teases your entrance with the wide head, smirking as you try to wiggle away. Hansen slams home in one go, showing no mercy. You are soaked, and it helps to take his huge cock.

“Aw, there we go, sunshine. Can you feel your tight little cunt pulsing around my cock?” He grabs your restrained hands, and slowly starts rocking his hips.

The other men groan hearing tiny whimpers leave your lips. You hear one of them shuffle behind you. He steps next to Hansen to watch him ruin your cunt.

Hansen roughly fucks into you; he groans and drops your hands to slap your ass with both hands. His arms suddenly wrap around your body to bring you upright. He cups your tits, squeezing the plush flesh painfully hard.

You wiggle again and try to buck him off, but it’s no use. He ruts into you and taunts you with love confession. “I’m gonna marry this cunt, guys. It’s official, I’m in love.”

“Get off me,” you choke out a moan. He’s a bastard, but damn him, his cock hits that spot making you keen with deadly accuracy.

“No can do, sunshine,” he purrs and wraps one hand around your throat. You are helpless in his arms and can only watch one of the other men crawl onto the bed. He winks at you before kneeling on the bed to give your exposed cunt a few kitten licks.

“How does she taste, Rogers,” the man slapping your ass earlier asks. “I bet she tastes like a whore. Our whore.”

“Shut up, Barnes,” the man licking your cunt grunts. He kneels in front of you to grope your tit. “Yeah, I’m going to fuck you too, doll. Maybe missionary so you must watch me claim your body.”

“Mirror,” Hansen grunts. His thrusts become sloppy and you only hope he won’t cum inside of you. “Now!”

Two more men come into your vision. They rip the curtains hanging opposite the bed down, revealing an oversized wall mirror.

“Watch yourself get ruined, sunshine,” Hansen tightens his hold on your throat. He pushes into you, always hitting your G-spot now. You don’t recognize the woman in the mirror.

She looks like a whore getting railed by the masked man. Drool runs down your chin, and your eyes are glassy. “Fuck…no…nggh…” You try to hold the tidal wave back. The last thing you want is to gush all over the bastard’s cock.

“That’s you, sunshine,” he tilts your head to kiss you roughly. The mask scratches your face, but the worst is, that you tighten around his length, milking him dry. You sniffle, and whimper feeling his seed fill your abused cunt. “One done, Y/N. Four more to go. And after we all had our fill, we will start all over again.”

He laughs at your shocked face and pushes you off him. You land on the bed with a loud thud, fearing you won’t survive the night.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle,” the man named Rogers grabs you by your neck and forces you to kneel on the bed. “I want to fuck those tits first.”

“Kneel on the ground for your new husband,” Hansen grabs your arm and pushes you to the ground. You struggle to kneel with your hands still bound behind your back. “Good little cockslut.”

“Perfect,” Rogers smirks as you try to slowly move away from him. “None of this now.” He walks around you to slap his hands between your legs. He scoops a large amount of Hansen’s cum, humming as you whimper at the slightest touch.

Rogers hurriedly faces you again to smear the cum all over your tits. He hums a melody while playing with your nipples. “Rogers loves a good titty fuck,” Hansen kneels behind you to slap your ass. “Be good, and he will shoot his load before your tits are sore.”

“I—” You shake your head but have no choice but to let the man named Rogers roughly grip your chin. He smears Hansen’s cum all over your lips before greedily kissing you.

“Let me fuck those tits, doll,” he purrs and pushes his cock between your tits. He cups your plush flesh, pressing them together as he starts rocking his hips. You drop your head and watch his cock moving between your tits. Your mouth opens and you lick over his tip when he moves closer to your face. “That’s it. Be good for me.”

“Fuck those tits faster, I want her to suck me off, or her ass,” another man grabs the back of your neck. “Lick his dick, now.”

“Shit, Fowler,” the man fucking your tits grunts. “Yes, that’s so much hotter.”

“Fowler is a kinky bastard,” the last man laughs. “Wait for my cock, sweetness, Levinson will split all of your holes and ruin you forever.”

“Shut up,” Barnes grunts. He gets his dick out to run his gloved hand up and down his length.

Rogers moves his hips faster. “I want to fuck her pussy now.”

Your eyes widen at Rogers’ words. Before you can react his cock slips out from between your tits, and you get thrown onto the bed. He immediately crawls between your legs, spreading you with his hips. “Yeah, that’s how you will watch me fuck you, doll.”

Rogers impales you with one forceful thrust. He ignores that you try to wiggle your hips or that you call him a bastard. He silences your protests with his lips, almost smothering you as he starts rocking his hips. “You’re ours from now on. Not a bride but our whore.”

His lips move down to your neck, and lower to your tits. He bites your nipple, forcing a scream to tear from your throat. Rogers is a cruel lover. He bites and nips at your plush flesh, leaving marks as he fucks you deep and hard.

He speeds up with every squeak leaving your lips. Your eyes roll back as he suddenly grabs your hips to slightly lift your hips. Rogers holds you in a tight grip while violating your pulsing cunt.

“Shit, did you see that?” Barnes growls. “She gushed all over his cock like a whore.”

His load shoots into you right after you clenched around him like the whore they turned you into. “That’s it, doll. Now you know the drill.”

Rogers pulls out, leaving you tainted and panting for the next man to use you. “On your belly, ass up,” Fowler doesn’t give you the chance to take a breath. He flips you over, forces you on your hands and knees, and is on you before you can react.

Not that you’d be able to fight him.

“What do you say, Barnes?” Fowler runs his hands up and down your trembling thighs. “Ass and mouth? Let’s fill her from both ends.”

You moan but bite your tongue. Fowler slaps your ass, grunts, and calls you a slut as you dared to make a noise.

“Shut up, you don’t have a say in this,” he mocks you. “This body is ours to use. Now talking back.”

He opens the handcuffs. Fowler takes his time, gently kneading the pain out of your skin. “Barnes?”

“Mouth,” Barnes grunts. “I hope she’s good at sucking dick. I dreamed of having her lips wrapped around my dick.”

“More ass for me,” Fowler laughs as you hold your breath. “Relax, sweetness. This ass will love my cock. It’s made to take it.”

You nod and tap the bed twice. Fowler immediately grabs you by your hips to press his crotch into your ass. He grinds into you while Barnes takes off his clothes.

Barnes lies on his side, lazily stroking his cock. He watches Fowler push your face into Barnes’ crotch, smirking as you eagerly rub your face into his pubic hair. “Good little whore,” he praises. “Now open up for Bucky.”

“Barnes!” Fowler hisses. “We said no first names!”

“Fuck you! I want her to suck my dick, not for you to complain again. Get your dick inside her ass and let me and my pretty doll have some fun!” Barnes gently pats your head, encouraging you to relax and open your mouth for him.

You move a little closer to Barnes and press your knees and the palms of your hands into the mattress.

Barnes watches the man behind you open a bottle of lube. He grunts as you shyly glance at his erection. “All for you, doll.” He lazily strokes his cock, waiting for Fowler to make his move. “I bet you will look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

Heat creeps into your cheeks at his praise. You dart your tongue out to lick over the wide heat. He shudders feeling your tongue touch his sensitive tip.

“Stop playing around,” Fowler pushes against your shoulders to press your face into Barnes’ crotch. “Swallow his cock while I shove mine into your tight little arsehole.”

“Hey, she was so good to me,” Barnes complains loudly. “Right doll. You wanted to suck me good.”

“She’ll be even better with my cock up her ass.” You hear a commotion in the room. The fifth man, Levinson barks orders at Hansen and Rogers. You blend his voice out and only listen to Fowler who lubes one finger to play with your tightest hole. “Such a nice little hole for me to use.”

You whimper and bite your lower lip. It’s a new sensation feeling Fowler’s finger push into your tightest hole. He groans behind you. “Did you ever take it up your ass?” He taunts while moving his finger in and out. “I bet you didn’t.”

“Who’s toying with her now,” Barnes snaps at Fowler. “She’s a big girl and can take it. Right, doll?” He purrs the pet name. “You want him to fuck this naughty hole.”

For a moment, the room was silent. All eyes are on you, and the men watch you slowly nod.

They don’t need to know that you’re about to fulfill your darkest desires. The ones no one else could fulfill.

“I knew she was going to take all of me,” Fowler slaps your ass. You squeak and lean over Barnes’ crotch to lick over the head. He holds his cock in a tight grip, offering it to you like a present. “Now, open up for Barnes while I stretch that hole.”

Barnes cups the back of your neck and holds his cock with his free hand. He guides you down his cock, slow but his hold on your neck is tight enough to tell you he won’t accept refusal.

“Slow, doll,” Barnes moves his hand to the back of your neck. He pats you and purrs your name. “I’ll help you do it right.” He pushes your head into his crotch, forcing you to swallow him whole.

“Yeah, he’s good at guidance,” you choke around Barnes's cock. He smirks as you struggle to breathe right. “I’m better, though.”

You let Barnes guide your head up and down his length, ignoring the other men growling your name, along with profanities. You’re too far gone. Body and soul tainted by the men using you for their pleasure, you’re ruined and know it.

Fowler grips your waistline, fingertips digging into your flesh. He lubes his cock, groaning as his eyes drop to your well-fucked cunt. Rogers and Hansen’s cum runs out of your abused hole. “What a good whore you are for all of us.”

“Fuck her already, I’m still waiting for my turn,” it’s Levinson who raises his voice. “If not, I’ll take over and rip that tight little hole open.”

“Get fucked,” Fowler loses his patience. He grips your ass to spread your ass cheeks. Fowler spits onto the crack of your ass, huffing as Levinson steps toward the bed to watch you suck Barnes’ dick. You bob your head, desperate to feel his cum on your tongue.

The pressure you feel the moment Fowler pushes his cock into your tightest hole is something you’ve never felt before. He slowly moves back and forth, still, it’s a wide and uncomfortable stretch. You hear him groan and feel his hands grip your hips to push all the way in.

“Shit, she’s stuffed to the brim,” Hansen comments. He watches Barnes and Fowler use you to their liking, griping his cock to jerk off. “I could go for another round when you are done, guys. Her ass looks inviting.”

“I bet,” Fowler pants as he gives you shallow thrusts, “she stretched that perfect hole with a plug. Right, babycakes. You knew I’m into fucking ass.”

You moan around Barnes’ cock, unable to answer Fowler’s question. You’re their sex toy to use, and nothing else. You can’t move your head, because Barnes guides you up and down his length while Fowler thrusts into your ass.

They work in unison as if they had done this a hundred times before. Their cocks fill your holes, pushing as deep as possible and you get lost in your darkest fantasy. You close your eyes and let yourself fall.

“She’s there, in her little headspace, fuck,” Rogers’ says. “Slow down, make her feel all of it.” He dips his head to watch Fowler stretch your asshole. “Make her hole gape. I want to go for a ride later too.”

“Shut up, Rogers,” Levinson barks. He stares at your naked form trapped between the others. Levinson is ready to drag them off you to get his turn, but he will wait and have the grand finale. “It’s my turn first!”

“Shit…I’m gonna cum,” you groan around Barnes. He cups the back of your neck again, holding you still when his cum shoots down your throat. “She’s perfect…” He slips out of your mouth, letting you breathe.

You don’t have time to think about his cum on your tongue. Fowler pushes against your shoulders, holding you down to rut into you. His cock slams into your tight hole. You whimper and beg him to slow down, but he won’t. Fowler is determined to fill you up.

“Butterfly?” Levinson asks, and you shake your head. “You’re such a good girl. We never had someone taking it like you did.”

“Please.”

Fowler grabs your hips. He shoves himself as deep as possible inside your ass and stills his hips. He comes with a shout of your name and slaps your ass with both hands.

It’s over as fast as it began. Fowler slips out of you and pushes your broken body onto the bed. You whimper but believe they will give you a break.

“Aw, butterfly, it’s my turn now,” you groan feeling another pair of hands grab your body. The man drags you off the bed and places you on the ground. “Hansen, help me.”

“I’m not your fucking sidekick,” Hansen grunts.

“I told you,” Levinson growls and points at you on the ground, “help me. I want to give her the best. My cum!”

“Fine, fine…” Hansen pushes a pillow under your head. He spreads your legs and presents your cum-leaking pussy to Levinson. “Satisfied?”

“Not yet,” Levinson steps toward your trembling body. He looks down at your naked form, smirking darkly as you stare up at him. The man is just like you, stark naked. “I hope you are ready for me, butterfly.”

You lick your lips, still tasting Barnes’ cum on your tongue. “Yeah…” you whimper and wait for his move.

“Good girl.”

Levinson grips his massive cock. He looks you in the eyes and starts stroking his cock. Moans leave this beautiful man’s lips as he stares at you. His grip tightens around his cock, and he fists himself faster.

Levinson has been on the edge since the moment his eyes landed on you. He wildly jerks his hips and imagines how your cunt will feel around his cock.

“Y/N,” he shouts your name and paints your body with his cum.

The moment his cream ends up on your skin, your body sizes up, and you cum untouched, whimpering as if you don’t know what just happened.

“Guys, that was awesome,” Penelope coos. She smirks as the men she hired to spice the party up get dressed. “We all enjoyed your service.”

“Anytime, ma’am,” one of the callboys she paid to give your bridesmaids a good time says.

“I hope the bride got her money’s worth too,” Penelope giggles. “Five men giving her all she ever wanted. Phew…”

“Five men?” The callboy asks. “Ma’am. Every man you hired is within this room. We don’t know the others. We thought you hired someone else for the bride.”

“What?” Penelope stutters. “No. I only called you. I—I didn’t hire anyone else…”

You wake on a soft mattress. A silky nightgown covers your sore body. “Morning, sunshine,” Hansen greets you with a wink. He took the mask off, revealing the mustache you felt more than once against your clit last night. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Penelope outdid herself hiring you,” you grin. “You followed the script. I really enjoyed all of you and your service.”

You roll to your side to watch Barnes sip on his coffee. “You too, Barnes.”

“Bucky, doll,” he winks at you. “I think after I fucked all of your holes you can call me Bucky.”

“I hope Penelope paid you well. This was…phew…” you sit up to look around the room. You frown, as you are not at the suite you rented for your bachelorette party. “Where are we?”

“Oh, that,” Nick Fowler laughs. “You see, we are not the callboys your little friend hired. We kind of hijacked your party to get back at your fiancé.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry, we got the script and the guys your friend hired to fuck you gave us all the information we needed.”

“I don’t understand,” you gape at Steve who steps inside the room. He holds the script you handed to Penelope before she hired the callboys in his hands.

“Your fiancé fucked with the wrong person, so we wanted to fuck him over but,” Ari laughs at your shocked expression. “Imagine our surprise when we found out that you wanted to fuck some callboys and send your fiancé the video.”

“He cheated on me,” you snap at Ari. “He never made me cum and dared to cheat on me. I wanted to fulfill my fantasies and get back at him at the same time!”

“I knew I liked her!” Lloyd exclaims. “See, we should do her a favor and send the tape to her now ex-fiancé. He’ll freak out, but she’s safe with us.”

“What?” You huff as the men start chatting about your fiancé, how you came on their cocks, and anything in between. “Guys, where are we?”

“We brought you somewhere safe,” Ari says and turns his attention back toward his coffee. “Don’t worry, butterfly. We like you, and will always make you cum. Just relax, lean back, and enjoy how we dismantle your ex…”

Tags in reblog.

[filthy-gorgeous-library]

Traders of love (lust) masterlist

Summary: Our dear readers are in trouble. They sell the only thing they have left. Their body and dignity.

Pairing: Different (multi-fandom) characters x fem!Reader (different reader in every story)

Warnings: angst, kinda prostitution in some chapters, dub-con, extortion, voyeurism, roleplay, smut, virginity kink, pregnancy kink, daddy kink, sir kink, size kink, all the kinks, a/b/o, loss of virginity, sex for money, blindfolding, a lil bit of feelings, pregnant reader, single mom reader, age gap, DBF trope, BFF trope

A/N: This is not a regularly updated series. It’s rather a collection of smutty one-shots, with a different character and a different reader in every story. The stories play mostly in the same universe. Some (side-)characters may reappear in different chapters.

A/N2: Please head the warnings for all chapters. Some kinks are not for everyone. Stories will drop in random order.

Like a virgin (DBF!Bucky Barnes x Virgin!Reader) - Kink: Virginity kink

Two for one (August Walker x Pregnant!Reader) – Kink: Pregnancy kink

I’m your daddy now (Lloyd Hansen x Singlemom!Reader) - Kink: Daddy kink

Under protection ((Jack) Reacher x Witness!Reader) - Kink: Strength kink

Follow the law ( Andy Barber x Criminal!Reader) - Kink: Dom/sub

Best trade ever (Boss!Steve Rogers x Assistant!Reader) - Kink: Boss kink

Every move you make (Jake Jensen x Client!Reader) - Kink: Stalking kink

Damage done (Mobster!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader) - Kink: Spanking

Skyscraper (Sam Winchester x BBF!Reader) - Kink: Size kink

Instinct (Alpha!Walter Marshall x Omega!Reader) - Kink: a/b/o

Make you sweat (Lance Tucker x Gymnast!Reader) - Kink: Degrading

Lawbreaker (Lee Bodecker x Sassy!Reader) - Kink: Uniform kink

Swaying (Mobster!Ari Levinson x Dance teacher!Reader) - Kink: TBA

Chocolate and roses - (Mobster!Sam Wilson x Chocolatier!Reader) - Kink: Food play

More to be added

#to be read

[filthy-gorgeous-library]

Jeezus fucking H.... Firstly, beautifully written, just amazing flow. Every new piece you put out just leaves me completely in awe🏆

Second, awwwwwwww big ol' dad trying his best at ballet just to make Sarah more comfortable, absolutely precious 🥺

Third, ma'am, please.. health warnings, who needs heating in the winter just read this and PHEW furthest thing from chilly 🫠

When I Move You Move, Joel Miller x ballet teacher!reader

Title: When I Move You Move

Author: @ghotifishreads

Pairing: ballet dad!Joel Miller (pre outbreak) x ballet teacher!reader (afab!reader)

Summary: Sarah Miller is very nervous to take her first ballet class, so her dad Joel asks if he can accompany her at the barre. AKA Joel is a ballet dad and just a good dad, and also a very sexy man. Fluff that rockets into unrepentant smut.

Word count: 6.9K (lmaooo how did we get here?!)

Warnings:  P in V sex; unprotected sex (wrap it when you tap it); oral sex (f receiving); Joel maybe has a bit of a praise kink, but not really; reader described as being flexible enough to put her leg on a barre and having pubic hair, no other physical description. Even the bendiest person probably couldn't do some of the, erm, barre work reader does but it's for the purposes of smut, so just enjoy the fantasy.

🔞Over 18s only, minors dni! 🔞 I do not give permission for my work to be republished, reposted, or translated.

A/N: Shout to the man I never saw before or since, who attend one ballet class and had Pedro’s body type and broke my fucking brain about it for like 8 months. You’re doing the lord’s work, sir, and I'm sorry for perving via transference. 

And huge thanks to @ozarkthedog who when I, as I often do, came flailing hornily to her saying ‘...I want to see Joel dancing ballet but I don’t know the excuse’ she thought of the prompt for this story. Thanks for ‘yes and-’ing my horny goblin ravings and supplying a plot, you glorious babe, Ozzie!

Unbeta’d. Divider by @saradika-graphics. Title banner by me.

Marisol pops her head in your office as you buckle the strap of your teaching shoes.

“Hey,” she calls, entering when you wave her through. 

“What’s up?”

“Weird request for the next class.”

“OK?” 

“First time student in your 7-8-year olds. She’s mega nervous, and her dad has asked if he can go in and stand at the barre with her.”

You mull the request. It could be strange for the other parents to have a grown man in their class. But the request is so sweet…Or is it?

“Marisol, how was the dad?”

Marisol smiles. “Hot.”

You roll your eyes. Marisol is sad for your singleness, well-intentioned but constantly pushing you to blind dates and to ‘put yourself out there more.’ 

“Not what I meant, goober. He’s not pushing her, is he? Does she actually want to do it? He’s not some stage father or bullshit like that, right?”

Marisol nods in earnest. “Absolutely. She’s called Sarah, and they came in last weekend to buy her first ballet slippers, and she was overjoyed. I think she’s really excited but nervous. She genuinely wants to.”

Austin is hardly a small town, but most dancers who come to the dance studio you own and operate join you when they are teeny tiny – as early as age 4. 

It’s only been a handful of years you’ve operated the studio, but having danced ballet yourself growing up, you can predict the split of the future paths for these budding dancers. The inevitability that most will drift away as middle school approaches and ballet training demands more of their time; how a few will stay until they graduate high school; and the even tinier number who will fall so hopelessly in love with dance that they can’t do anything but train and train and try to make it in a professional company. 

Or realize they love the art form but don’t have the wherewithal or desire to go pro, and choose to share their love of it instead. Teaching, like you.

Marisol flashes the girl’s registration form. At 8 years old, Sarah Miller is older than your usual students for her very first dance class, and joining a class already a semester in progress. You don’t blame her nervousness.

“What did you tell him?”

“That I’d have to ask you, of course,” Marisol says. 

You consider. There’s an observation window in the studio. Some parents leave to run errands and shuttle other kids to other activities, but a lot of parents stay to watch their kids anyway. 

You see no harm in letting the dad participate. Other than technically him getting a free class. You chuckle at the notion of this dad finagling a free children’s ballet class for himself via ruse of his daughter faking nervousness.

“Sure. Shall I go introduce myself?”

Marisol nods enthusiastically. “You made the right call. For the girl, and for you,” she says, leaning against your desk now. 

“For me?” you question.

“Let’s just say you’re gonna wanna watch this guy move. Also—no wedding ring.”

You hiss at her to be quiet, worried Sarah and her dad will hear you out in the main lobby. “Stop trying to set me up. Besides, it’s a bad idea to date a parent of one of the students, even if that was a possibility. Which it’s not.”

Marisol hip checks you as you pass, turning off your office lights and closing the door. “You’ll change your mind. Trust me.”

Most students are regulars, so have already set up in the dressing rooms and the observation lobby near the studio, making it easy to find Sarah and her dad sitting alone in reception.

Sarah’s curly hair is tied back in a scrunchie low at her neck and she’s wearing the requisite class uniform of black leotard and pink tights. Her skinny knees bounce as her ballet slipper-clad feet jitter against the floor. 

Her head leans in to speak to the man seated beside her.

Sarah’s dad. His broad form is clad in a worn t-shirt and jeans. His clothes look a worse for the wear, like he’s probably been working outside. A steak of dried paint is smeared on his sizeable bicep. His form is hulking in the plastic chair he occupies, but his voice soft and his focus intent as his dark-haired head bows low to speak to his daughter, holding her small hand in his, and stroking her reassuringly. 

Marisol was annoying correct about this guy’s hotness.

“Mr Miller?” your voice cracks. 

When Joel’s warm brown eyes meet yours, you suddenly wish you weren’t wearing a ratty old leotard you’re certain has a hole in its side seam. That you were wearing a stunning, flirty sundress, instead of the soft nubbly knit of your warm-up sleeves, and tights haphazardly rolled up to different lengths on your calves. 

He’s undeniably handsome. But it’s the way he looks at you like a lifeline for him and his daughter that makes your knees positively weak. 

“Yes, ma’am. Please, call me Joel,” and he extends his hand to shake, the other still caressing his daughter’s. 

“Hi Joel,” you say, breaking the handshake to crouch in front of the duo.

“Hi Sarah, I’ll be your teacher today. How are you feeling?”

“Nervous. Feels stupid, but I am,” Sarah says. She meets your gaze but then ducks her head quickly again. 

“That’s not stupid,” you reassure her. “You’re brave for trying a new thing. New things can feel scary.”

Joel clears his throat. “How about class? Could I go in with her? Just to start.”

“Luckily for you, class isn’t full. I think if you and Sarah both want that, it’s fine by me.”

“Not too dusty? Don’t want my clothes to mess up this nice studio.”

“You’re fine, Mr Miller.”

“Joel, please, ma’am.” He smiles a bit, Christ, dimples, you note, but he looks back at this daughter to check in before you can fall headlong into his gaze. 

“I’ll call you Joel if you drop all this ‘ma’am’ business.” 

Joel nods. “Deal.”

“OK then. Class is about to start. I’ll give you two a minute alone to decide what to do. You’re both very welcome. Truly.”

You head towards the studio before turning back. “Sarah – it’s ok not to do it too. Whatever you want to do is the right choice. Coming this far is brave too. ”

“OK,” the girl says. Joel’s jaw drops slightly. You nod at him once and spin on your heel to class. 

+++

“Alright, guys!” you call loud enough so the class hears you with your back turned to them, as you finish futzing with the stereo in the corner. “Get into your positions at the barre!” 

You turn around and lock eyes with Joel Miller, who stands awkwardly at the door, holding his daughter’s hand. 

“Can we join?”

Your face breaks into a grin. Sarah still looks nervous but her eyes are big as saucers, delightedly scanning the room and other dancers.

“We’d love for you to join us,” and you direct the duo to a space at the barre with enough room that Joel can participate. Sarah skips over, confidence already up, and you dash to the door and place a hand on Joel’s arm before he crosses the threshold. 

“I’m so sorry, but can you take off your work boots? We can’t have street shoes in the studio. I should have said before, sorry. Hope that’s OK?”

“Course,” Joel chuckles, kneeling to remove his shoes. 

Then he strides across the room in his black socks, and stands in the corner behind his daughter. An anomaly in his heathered maroon t-shirt and jeans, and at literally twice the size of the other dancers, mostly other little girls like his kid, in their uniform pink-and-black leotards and tights. 

Sarah hugs him and Joel says what you think is a “I’m here. Go on, get ready for the start,” before she turns back to face you.

You clap your hands, “Alright class, let’s begin!”

Sarah is sharp and a quick learner. She has a natural grace that quickly outstrips her nerves. Even if she’s behind and concentrates on following the French vocabulary, she picks up the movements quickly. Like any student who flourishes, you’re proud to see her succeed.

Joel is another story. He’s sheepish, and at first he merely stands at the barre, one hand white-knuckling the wooden pole like a lifeline, the other on his hip while he attempts to shrink himself and look inconspicuous. 

All near-6-foot of him isn’t really succeeding.  

As you direct the first pliés in the opening exercise, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He leans, then stands rigidly straight to echo the posture of the tiny waist-high dancers surrounding him. 

He’s watching Sarah but also looking around at the twenty-odd other students as their bodies glide up and down on their gently bending knees.

He quirks his lips, replaces his left hand on the barre as if it could scald him, and puts his feet into first position, bending his knees to try and wrench his turnout. His large hand stiffens into a paddle and his right arm follows, attempting to mimic the rounding of the correct position. 

As he adjusts, the exercise finishes, and you call for all the dancers to “Soutenu, turn to the other side,” and Joel bewilderedly shuffles in the wrong direction, away from the barre, and maneuvers into first position again on the other side. Or tries.

“Joel,” you say softly, stood beside him and subtly drawing his attention the way you do for any other student. His eyes fly to yours, like he’s been caught doing something he ought’n, his lip caught between his teeth, the chewing making his mustache twitch. 

He’s adorable and devastatingly handsome. 

Bad news for you. 

“Don’t wrench your turnout like that,” you instruct quietly. “You’ll ruin your knees.”

He looks down at his feet and back up at you again, still at a loss. “It’s OK if your feet aren’t a flat line. They can be angled, or V-shaped, if they need to be. Turnout can come in time. We need our knees for everything we do.” 

He nods, mouth now set in a line, brow furrowed in concentration and he moves his feet to more of a “V” shape, letting them fall more naturally, and continues following the exercise. When he grand plies he nearly falls over, but rights himself.

“And in the grand plie, keep your knees stay over your ankles,” you tap his knee gently, and he responds to the correction instantly. 

“Good,” you murmur and notice he grins. You move on to your next student. 

“Arm forward just a bit, Sarah,” you correct. “It’s the right shape, just needs to be in front of your body, don’t let it get behind.”

And the barre continues much in this way. Sarah keeping up with the class of her more experienced peers, and Joel participating the best he can in jeans and with his limited coordination.

You are a devoted teacher, but Joel is admittedly distracting. 

The pull of his shirt across his shoulders when the students face the barre for relevé, the deft sturdiness of his back muscles in contrast to the hurried, panicked looks he sneaks down at his daughter to copy her placements, the hawk-like line of his nose as his gaze falls down to his daughter’s feet. He always completes the movement but several beats behind the music.

When he cambrés back, and the arch of his back and stretch of his arm draws the hem of his t-shirt far enough about his jeans that you see a sliver of his belly, hipbones and smattering of dark hair at his happy trail, you nearly swallow your tongue. You spin on your heel to look away because you are not the lord’s strongest soldier. 

The seeming contrast of his sturdy form doing the delicate, graceful, powerful work of dancing ballet has lured more than you. The enthralled, spectating faces you catch at an especially crowded observation window shows the other parents are caught up in watching Joel’s efforts as well. 

It’s second nature to you, correcting a student with a gentle touch or guiding hand. You teach adult classes too, but the minority of your students of any age are male, and even fewer are like Joel. His broad physique is one you don’t often see in the rather homogenized world of lithe and lean ballet. Handsome, yes, but willing to make a fool of himself in the name of making his daughter feel brave and happy. 

During the passé exercise, in full teacher mode, you correct the next student in line you see needing a form adjustment. “Keep your hips even, Joel. Don’t sink into your left hip.” Before you can even think, your right palm presses flush against his right side, and your left index finger taps at his left hip. You’ve corrected him as you would any other student. But the sharp hitch of Joel’s breath, and the breadth of his side beneath your palm reminds you that he is not merely another student. 

You look up and catch his gaze, brown eyes drinking you in. Your face grows hot under his hungry, pleading assessment. 

The music comes to a close and so do the students, returning to fifth position and stilling. The sudden silence breaks you out of your trance and you shake your head away from Joel, retract your hands as if scalded. 

You break for water and stretching before the class moves to exercises in the center. 

+++

You work in the center splits, chatting to the students as you press your forearms and then your torso to the floor in front of you, rest your forehead on the back of your hand. Your muscles and bones give a mild protest, you're not 17 years old anymore, but your body retains a good dose of flexibility. 

Joel had not blended seamlessly into the class, especially not the closing barre exercise, but he made such a diligent student you'd all but forgotten a 30-something burly construction worker was standing in to help his daughter in her 7-8-year-olds ballet class.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Joel confer with Sarah. They hug and he leaves a swift kiss to the top of her head before he approaches you. You maneuver out of your splits and rise to standing to greet him. 

“Thanks for letting me do that, Teach. Kiddo’s gonna do the center on her own, so I’m gonna head out.”

“Thank you for doing it. Most parents wouldn’t have gone to that length, Mr. Miller and-”

“Joel,” he insists again, his hand clasps your bicep. “Please. I insist. Or not. Up to you. Ma’am.”  

His eyes dance with merriment and the reminding taunt of your promise to one another to ditch the formalities.

“No ma’am, please, I give,” you smile, then take your own moment to tease, and squeeze the hand that still holds your bicep. “You did well. If you turn up next time, I’ll make you wear tights though. Street clothes are not regulation uniform,” you nod to his jeans and sawdust sprinkled work shirt. 

“Believe me, you don’t want to see me in tights,” Joel says.

“You don’t know that, Mr–Joel,” you reply. You can’t believe the words come out of your mouth, and your fingertips fly to cover your offending lips.

Joel tilts his head and smiles, a dimple appears, along with a delectable darkness flashing across his expression, and he quirks an eyebrow at your audacity. 

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me, that was so unprofessional-”

Joel’s hand still hasn’t left your arm. He squeezes it, then trails his fingers slowly away. Nothing too forward, but too lingering to be strictly chummy. Joel knows how to toe the line.

“Nothin’ to apologize for. And, uh, duly noted.” He nods and the hint of his dimple begins to grace his face. Fuck, he’s hot.

Then Joel “I take ballet class for my daughter’s comfort and support at a moment’s notice” Miller fucking winks at you, turns on his heel and walks to the door. Stood in his stocking feet in your dance studio, the man has made you feel like you’re ready to give it all up to whatever Joel’s teasing smile has promised. 

Mercifully, you’re hidden in the corner of the studio near the stereo, no gossipy parents saw Joel wink at you or touch your arm. 

At the doorway, he gives a last wave to Sarah, who waves back before she returns to chatting happily with her classmates. In particular she’s taken a shine to one named Ellie, a bold little girl who asked at her registration (and to whom you easily granted permission) to wear the boy’s uniform of a white T-shirt and black leggings, because ‘pink is gross.’ 

Joel looks at the new fast friends with a wistful expression, then stoops to collect his shoes from the cubby near the door.

You pity Joel, heading out to wolves’ den of parents lusting after him at the barre. You bite back a smile watching him wave off the other circling guardians with a polite nod of the head, and gesturing back towards the window, to indicate the real center of attention.

“OK, class! Places for adagio in the center, please,” you clap your hands, turning your attention away from fantasies of Joel Miller and towards the dancers who deserve your time and focus.

Until closing time at the studio, the rest of the evening continues much as any other Tuesday night before you knew of Joel Miller’s distracting existence.  

+++

After the final class of the evening you hear Marisol finish vacuuming the lobby and clicking off lights while you do some stretching and cool down exercises in the now deserted studio at the teaching barre in the middle of the floor. 

“Lost and found today – Sarah Miller’s shoes,” she says, sticking her head into the studio. “And I hear her dad was quite the attraction at class today,” she teases, setting the small pink ballet shoes next to you. 

“Yeah, he made a real spectacle. But don’t say that like I didn’t see your head peeping in the observation window to check him out.”

Marisol shrugs. “Look, we all deserve a little treat in our day.”

“Especially you. Thanks for vacuuming.”

“When you get married and have lots of babies with him, you can thank me in your wedding toast.”

“Shut up!” 

“Good night!” Marisol calls, scampering out the door. And you bid her good night as well.

You continue stretching, humming to yourself in the quiet of the studio. Then your body stiffens as you hear the front door latch. Marisol doesn’t ever forget to lock it. 

“‘Lo?” you hear a man’s voice call, and relax when you look from your twisted position with your leg draped over the barre and your torso against it, to see Joel peering around, treading cautiously in the dimmed light.

“Joel?” you greet, extracting yourself from your stretch over the barre, hands futility smoothing over your day-worn and rumpled dance kit. “How can I help?”

“Did Sarah leave her shoes?”

You point at the slippers, placed where Marisol left them at your feet, and wave him over.

He starts through the door, but remembers the rules and toes off his work boots to leave in the doorway, chatting all the while, “Shoulda just come back at the next class, but I gotta confess. We were gonna attend another class at a different studio tomorrow - Sarah liked it so much she wanted to take another class, but yours for her age are only on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

He rubs the back of his neck, wincing a bit like he’s done something bad. He’s fucking adorable.

“Ah, I see how it is, cheating on me with another studio already. The Millers have no loyalty, got it,” you tease.

“Oh no, I-” Joel blusters.

“Joel, relax. I’m totally kidding,” you pat his arm. The tension in Joel’s shoulders eases away. “If Sarah wants to dance she should do it as much as possible. Especially if she’s coming back here on Thursday.”

Joel nods, “Absolutely.”

“Gotta warn you, though, when a kid takes to dance, it can be lots of classes and someday even rehearsals, plus pointe shoe sewing and buying, so be prepared.”

Joel hums. “Maybe gettin’ ahead of ourselves thinking like that. But if Sarah wants, and can do her schoolwork, that’s fine.”

You smile. “Yes, probably get through the first month and see how that goes.”

“Though can’t say I’d mind an excuse to see more of you.”

Your breath hitches and your gut swoops. 

You stoop, collecting the ballet slippers before you say or do something idiotic and irrevocable, scaring Joel away or more importantly, make him feel strange about bringing his daughter back when she enjoyed class so much.

“Here you go,” you say, wincing at your words coming out more loudly than you intended. You thrust the pink canvas at Joel’s chest. His broad, broad chest. He doesn’t take them. “Sarah’s shoes…” you say feebly. He’s standing awfully close.

Your eyes lock with his as hands enclose over the slippers and your fingertips. “Thanks, darlin’,” Joel drawls and he squeezes your hand.

Lured in by the softness and liquid heat in his brown eyes, you pitch forward and kiss him, hands mashed awkwardly between your chests, both of your grips twined around the ballet slippers. 

Joel kisses you back, warm chapped lips pressing at yours once, twice, and then the soft probe of his tongue presses to the seam of your lips. You moan in response.

“Drop the shoes, darlin’,” Joel’s urges, his wet plush mouth still against your lips. One deft, heavy hand draws around your waist, the other holds yours tighter and directs the shoes to drop to the floor. 

You cast the slippers aside and twine your arms around Joel’s neck. He hauls you closer, kissing you again. Your greedy mouth seeks his, your tongue laving over his making your cunt dampen your leotard.

Breathlessly he pulls away, “Anybody else here?” The warmth and heave of his chest against yours mirrors the tickle of his facial hair and his breath skittering across your face as he cups your cheek in his hand. His lust-blown eyes wildly search yours, desperate for the answer you both want to be true.

“No,” you reply as he ducks his head to your neck, his lips leading the way.

His hands drop to cup your ass over your skirt and tights. Even the flimsy materials feels like an impossibly frustrating barrier between Joel’s touch and your skin. 

The thin lycra and sheer skirt and fine mesh of the tights don’t impede you from feeling the thickening firmness of Joel’s cock beneath the denim of his trousers, however. 

“Thought about touching you all class,” Joel confesses, hands gripping your ass even tighter. “Once I knew Sarah was gonna be OK, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Wanting to do good for you.”

“Oh my god,” you keen as Joel nibbles on, then laves his tongue over, your exposed collarbone and grinds your hips to his.

“Taste a little salty,” Joel says, nosing back up your neck.

“Sorry, been dancing all day-”

“Don’t apologize. ’S nice. Tastes good, see?” Joel says, tilting your jaw to kiss your mouth again.

You clutch at Joel’s t-shirt as you pull away. “Wanna taste you too,” and before Joel can react you dip your head to kiss then lap your tongue over his pulse, racing beneath the firm enticing column of his neck.

“Bet your mouth is fucking magic everywhere, huh Teach? Goddamn-” Joel keens as your teeth graze his carotid artery. 

Joel’s wide-spanning grip eases you away by the scruff of your neck. “Wait wait…” 

You freeze. “Were the teeth too much?”

“Fuck no,” Joel chuckles, “the teeth were perfect. I just…All this talk about tasting. Reminds me exactly where I wanted to taste you.”

Joel drops to his knees. Yours buckle, forcing you to brace against Joel’s shoulder and the barre behind you at the sight of the broad-shouldered man at your feet, at the bunch of his arm muscles as he strokes your legs. 

Joel’s nose traces the seam of your leotard leg and he presses it into your cunt when he reaches your center. You sink your fingers into his chestnut curls, scratching and gripping.

Joel growls, lets out a “Goddammit,” under his breath and you smile at his pause to collect himself. 

Joel’s hands run around your hips now, grasping and squeezing, but purposefully. He seeks his fingertips under your leotard’s leg seam, but is met with the spiderweb-fine mesh barrier of your tights.

His blunt nails catch the waistband of your tights, dragging the offending garment down. but the gusset of the leotard prevents Joel exposing anything but a sliver of your hip. Which he kisses and sucks at. 

He’s flummoxed by the dance clothes, giving one more futile tug to the other side of your tights. “How in the hell do I get you outta these contraptions so I can eat your pussy, sweetheart?”

“Here, hang on-” you say, starting to undress.

Joel stands in frustration. He mutters something that sounds like “What in tarnation…?” as you start to undo your outermost layer, a warm-up sweater wrap top, wound around your middle beneath your breasts. 

His dexterous hands rest around your middle, the heat burning off him warming you as you strip. He drums his fingers softly on your middle for lack of anything else to do---his hands are undoubtedly capable but his assuredness won’t be for ballet clothes. Until now, anyway. Joel’s already proven himself a quick study tonight. 

The deep, reverberating tentacles of Joel’s low chuckle slither over you deliciously as he watches you untie your wrap skirt and fling it away too. 

“Good thing you’re a steady hand, I never would’ve figured all that business out.”

You smile back at him, “You’d've got there eventually,” you say, stealing another kiss.

He plucks at the camisole strap of your leotard, thick fingertips working momentarily under the elastic bound tightly to your skin. 

“C’mon now, sweetheart, don’t leave me hanging.”

You pull the straps off your shoulders, freeing your arms and ready to shuck the clinging fabric along with your tights down in one swift move like you do at the end of a long day of teaching, but Joel’s hand still spans your ribs, firm and unmoving, watching as your tits pop over the bunching fabric. 

“Thought when you put your hands on me in class how much I liked it. How I couldn’t wait to repay the favor. And these clothes? They just cling to you so nice, darlin’. Swore I could even see your nipples under that sweet ballet teacher sweater,” his thumbs swirl around the stiffening peaks firmly now, and you whine. “Damn near tripped over my own feet.” 

His touch pauses only to prepare the way for the descent of his mouth to suck and lick the now-pert buds into his mouth. 

“You were tripping over your feet anyway, Mr. Miller.”

His teeth nip into your flesh at your jibe, “Told ya – call me Joel. Ma’am.” You hiss and then moan.

After working each nipple in turn, the sharp, beautiful slice of his nose runs up one wet, aching peak before looking up at you. “Salty and delicious here too. Can’t wait to taste your pussy, sweetheart.” 

His hands gather your bunched clothes and push them down your body. 

As you undress, you notice the way Joel’s t-shirt clings to him, the softened fabric tantalizingly hinting at the firm torso beneath, the soft swell of his tummy over the waistband of his jeans.

There’s an inelegant moment where you have to unbuckle your dance shoes and pull your tights over your ankles before kicking the whole bundle behind you. But Joel’s smile is warmly amused, not mocking, and the accompanying dimple appearing in his scruff makes it impossible to do anything but grin right back as he crowds you against the barre again. 

“Gorgeous, sweetheart,” Joel says, gripping your ass, his hands now granted unimpeded access to your naked flesh. 

Your lips find his again, nipping at them before you breach his mouth with your tongue. 

The freestanding barre rocks a little as you both lean your weight on it. Joel reels back and brings you up with him. The adept scan of his eyes as he assesses the situation shouldn’t make you so wet, but it does. 

Joel trails his hand around your hip, cups your mound and runs his fingertips assuredly up and down your slit. “Can I taste you?”

“God, Joel, please, yes,” you say, grabbing his wrist to sink the pressure of his fingertips firmly against your clit. 

His dimples appear again with his smirk, and then he drops a swift peck to your mouth before he sinks slowly to the ground.

“Well, a very wise woman once told me ‘We need our knees for everything we do,’” Joel quips, sinking to rest on his. “And she was very right.”

You clutch the barre in one hand, brace the other on Joel’s shoulder. His lips feel especially ticklish on your thigh as he kisses teasingly up your leg, looking up at you with deep brown eyes blown to black. 

His eyes only shut when he nestles his nose into the curls crowning your mound and breathes in deeply. “Salty and sweet everywhere, just like I said,” he murmurs, his breath warm and sweet and maddening against your center. 

Then the wide plane of his tongue dips out to lap at your slit, your own eyes squeezing shut in overwhelm. 

Your hands sink into the thicket of Joel’s hair, clutching as his deft tongue alights on your clit in a pattern that makes stars burst behind your closed eyes. “Joel, fuck,” you exclaim breathily, rewarding his further mintrations by grinding your hips against his face. His palm spans over the globe of your ass, presses your mound further against painful pleasure of his facial hair, and he fucking moans, his keen reverberating through your weeping cunt.

Tears well in your eyes as your gut tightens in spiraling pleasure while Joel sucks at your clit.

He ducks away for a torturous moment to command, “C’mon, come for me, sweetheart, wan’ you to come all over my face,” then presses his wet working mouth against your gushing cunt again. His clever lips and tongue focus on your clit while he breaches your entrance with the tip of two thick fingers.

“Fuck Joel, I’m-” with that you’re untethered, hips bucking against Joel’s face, chest shuddering as your orgasm hits you like a freight train.

“Wait, wait, need a sec,” you plead, guiding Joel back by the scruff of curls at his neck once you start coming to your senses. He pants too, looking up at you, broad chest heaving, and smug, pupil-blown pleasure etched on his face. 

“Too much?” he asks, licking your spend from his plush lips, you nearly come again. 

You manage a nod and dreamy, “Yeah.” 

“Good,” Joel quirks his lips and grazes another series of ticklish kisses over your thigh and hip. “Think I can fuck your gorgeous, messy pussy now?”

You bite your lip, fighting the smile. “Yeah. Want you to fill me up, please.”

Joel groans out  a throaty “Fuck, yeah,” and then eases off his knees. 

You pull the hem of his shirt over his head and watch as the breadth of him comes into view, barrel chested and broad shouldered.

Sturdy. Strong. Solid.

You marvel at the sight of his biceps, the full cut of them now freed from the t-shirt. At the way he smells faintly and deliciously of sweat. And now, when you kiss him, he tastes of the salt of you as well.

Your hands draw like magnets to trace the dusting of coarse dark hair skimming from his belly button to the waistband of his jeans, your scrambling hands clashing with Joel's at the barricade of his belt. 

“Hang on, lemme just-” and Joel sets your hands on his waist while he unfastens his jeans and then you swoop in to draw the waistband of his underwear and jeans down around his hips.

His cock thwacks free from his clothes, juts thick and proud from the nestle of brown curls. “So pretty, Joel, wanna suck your cock-” you press your palm to the firmness of him before stroking your fingers up his shaft. He shivers, inhales a sharp hiss of breath at your touch.

“Next time, sweetheart, can’t do that and be inside you. No matter how bendy you are,” Joel swipes his fingers through the now familiar territory of your leaking cunt. “You said you wanted me to fill you up, teach,” he says, nuzzling his nose against yours. 

At this, Joel eases two thick fingers inside you. You clutch at his arms, overcome at welcoming the fullness of his fingers completely inside of you.

“C’mon,” Joel urges as the lewd, wet smack of his fingers scissoring you echoes through the otherwise abandoned studio. 

You mouth mindlessly at his collarbones and shoulders and neck, tasting what of Joel you can, but it’s aimless, all your focus required for staying on your feet. Joel’s arm hooked around your back helps your plight, at the same time it keeps you swooning and weak-kneed.  

“You ready?” Joel prompts, hooking his fingers together and pressing the pads of his fingers against the rough spongy patch inside you.

Molten heat floods your veins anew, more of your slick weeping out on to Joel’s hand. 

“So ready,” you dizzily reply, “fuck me, Joel, please.”

“OK, Teach, whatever you fuckin’ say,” Joel eases his fingers out of you and whimper at the loss. Joel’s head stays down, marveling at the web your slick left over his clever fingers. 

You steal a kiss, “However you want me,” you say, watching Joel run his cock over your sex where it mingles with his own, precome that he squeezes out of the pretty flushed mushroom head and groans, head dropping to your shoulder while his cock leaves tacky streaks of both of you along your thigh. 

“Got an idea, wanna see-” and Joel whirls you around, the barre the only thing between the mirror and you.

He’s so broad and hulking behind you. He’d been incongruous in the dance class, but now his stance is study and strong, the desire in his eyes focusing on the hair crowning your sex, he looks perfectly at ease. His hand assuredly clutches your hip.

“Want you like this. Wanna see all of ya,” Joel says, eyelids heavy and licking his lips. “Want you to see how fucking good you move.”

“Oh fuck, Joel,” you whimper at the picture you make together, drape yourself over the barre as Joel nudges your foot open with his, working your stance to the right height. His knuckles wrap his thick cock and work it along your pussy from behind.

“Lemme in, baby,” Joel says, “show me,” and you hinge forward at the hip, reach for his dick between your legs, notching the thick head of him into you. The slow delicious press of Joel filling you draws a moan from your lips to match his own groan. You bite the sound short. 

“Nah, lemme hear you, sounds good,” Joel’s thumb softly pops your bottom lip from between your teeth, and the span of his hand across your jaw fills most of your face.

“Move, Joel,” you hiss, pushing your hips back to his, your rump meeting the cradle of his hips. 

“Patience, Teach,” Joel smoothes his hand down your throat, palm squeezing your breast before he presses his palm down your belly. “Liked watching you move, the way you stretch,” his fingertips pressed together, rubbing and rolling against your clit as Joel’s cock splits you open and your weeping cunt drenches his pubic hair.  

You reach back, brace one desperate hand on his torso, how different it felt from when you’d touched him in class, not respectable or sanctioned at all now, but the breadth of him beneath your palm was still filling with his breath, still working to please you.

“Wider? Seen you stretch, know you could.” Joel grips the back of your thigh, shifts your weight so you don’t fall, lifts your knee forward, on to the barre.

Your head drops forward, the saw of Joel’s hips into yours in this new stretch makes him feel even girthier where he fills you. Your skin breaks out in sweat, damp pool everywhere your flesh touches your own, or Joel’s. His arm slings around your belly, pulling your hips back to his.

The swell of his forearm clenching against you feels doubly dizzying around you and the sight of his doppelganger taking yours in the mirror. Burly and relentless in the drive of his hips, but lost, the glazed look of lust as Joel takes you. Eating you up with his eyes and his roving hands and his cock, every part of him hungry. 

His hand reverses his journey back up your body. He plucks your nipple and trails his calloused fingers along your throat. 

You dip your head to intercept his touch, and take his fingers in your mouth, sucking the meaty digits to the second knuckle, feeling them heavy on your tongue like you’d wish you’d been able to do with his cock. Next time, you think, you wish, you hope.

“Greedy, darlin,” Joel coos, and draws his fingers out from your lips, trailing your saliva to your shoulder where his hand settles. 

His grip bows your spine  as he pulls you back onto his cock, over and over again. Suspended in the air between the barre and his hips and his hands, you’re held fast in Joel’s substantial grip.

Your leg slips off, you tremor from holding it aloft and from the throb of Joel filling you. Both feet planted firmly on the ground now, one hand braced on the barre and the other grasping handfuls of Joel’s ass and hip behind you, feeling his glute flex with his thrusts.

“‘M close, where should I come?”

“Inside, inside,” you declare, holding Joel’s juddering hips to your ass as he jerks and fills you with him. In the mirror before you, you watch the beautiful sight of his head thrown back and neck straining.

As the waves of your pleasure recedes, affection wells upside inside you to see the dark mess of curls atop Joel’s head as he drops it to your shoulder, breath too warm but welcome against your skin. His lips press against your shoulder, and up your neck.

His questing fingers turn your head back to his for another languid kiss. You hum, eyes alighting on Joel’s as you draw slowly back.

“Fuck, you’re bendy,” Joel says, dimples appearing alongside his slight lopsided grin, as he nuzzles against you.

A bubble of laughter wells up from inside you and you rest your forehead against Joel’s.

You untwine, pass each other discarded clothes and help one another dress. Joel tries to help you back into your wrap sweater but huffily discards the ties as you laugh and wind them around your middle. 

You finish, everything but your shoes back on, and come to, fear the silence that is comfortable for now, but reminds you that where you are is in your dance studio having fucked the dad of one of your students. 

Joel sweeps you back into his arms, sweetly looking as nervous as you feel with the haze of lust receding. 

He ducks his head, big brown eyes looking puppish as he clears his throat. “Hey, uh. Can I take you on a date?”

You give him your phone number, he waits while you turn off lights in the studio. He leaves you at the door of the studio with a kiss. “Lock up behind me. Never know what sort of reprobates will wander into a dance studio after hours, looking for pretty dance teachers.”

He climbs into his truck and drives off.

You return to closing down for the night. Ten minutes later, your cell phone lights up, Joel’s name glowing from the screen.

You answer, biting your lip to catch the smile growing on your lips. 

“Joel?”

Even tinny from the cell phone, his voice sounds divinely rich and gives you chills to have it in your ear again. 

“Evening.” A pause. “I forgot the fucking ballet shoes.” 

You chuckle. “Oh my.” You peek your head through the studio viewing window. Sure enough, in the security light’s dim glow you can just make out Sarah’s pink canvas ballet slippers at the foot of the barre.

“Can we make our first date coffee tomorrow morning? I’ll bring some to the studio,” Joel offers.

“Works for me. We’ll have to be better behaved tomorrow morning, Marisol will get here.”

“You make it tough, but think I can just about contain myself for a cup of coffee’s worth amount of time.”

“See you here tomorrow. For a coffee’s worth.”

“Till tomorrow then. Night, teach.”

+++end+++

Thanks so much for reading! If you enjoyed what you read, please do reblog or leave a comment, I’d be most grateful! Want to read more of my work? Take a peek at my masterlist here.

[filthy-gorgeous-library]

🎞️ you and lee are the last two left at the station on valentine’s, working late as usual despite the holiday. he gives it a few minutes after officer harris finally leaves, and when lee is sure the coast is clear and no one else is around, he decides it’s the perfect time to give you your presents

Valentines Presents

Sheriff Lee Bodecker x f!reader

Your first present is a unique necklace in the form of Lee’s strong and capable hands haloed around your throat as he holds you down, all the better to ram his cock into you, his swollen head hitting that rough patch inside you every time, making you whine and moan and beg.

Your second present is the love bite right above your breast. Lee adores the way you squirm and squeal when he sucks on the soft tissue, your capillaries bursting into little blooms that will fade into bruising reminders of the attention the Sheriff spoils you with.

Your third present is your name spilled in hushed whispers and untethered groans as Lee ruts into your heat with abandon, chasing his high but holding back long enough to make sure you’ve flooded his balls below.

Your fourth present is the seed he spills inside your waiting womb. Lee loves few things more than pressing a hand below your belly and feeling your body swell with his offering. Soon, it will grow his child too and waits for that day impatiently.

Your fifth and final present is the care with which he helps you down from his oak table and presses a soft kiss to your lips, fixing your skirts around your curvy figure.

“Let’s go home, Mrs. Bodecker,” he says, escorting you to the cruiser and playing your favourite song on the drive home.

Flowers and chocolates await you at home, along with a surprise; Lee gives you your presents all over again, this time in the warmth and safety of your marital bed.

divider: @firefly-graphics

everything tags: @harrysthiccthighss @pandaxnienke @galens-mistress @littlelioncub43 @purple-babygirl @alittlegiraffee @floral-recs @thefallenbibliophilequote @rach2602 @filthy-gorgeous

[filthy-gorgeous-library]

- incoherent screaming of excitement -

Pre-order, you won't regret it. 100% become an addicted fan girl for Ash Raven works, in a way that hasn't happened since my "binge Artemis Fowl series" days around '07/'08.

Look out, new daddy about to drop.

Pre-order here

[filthy-gorgeous-library]

18+MDNI

say goodnight

an ode to fic writers who burn the midnight oil

You’ve been staring at the computer screen for too long at this point, cursor flashing with accusations of neglect.  You take a big swig of the drink next to you, and then start to nibble at your thumbnail, unblinking eyes going dry behind smudged glasses. 

That’s when you feel his hands press down onto your shoulders, warm and strong, his lips grazing the back of your head.  “I miss you,” he says, kneading like a cat on the taut, stressed muscles of your neck. 

He’s been waiting for you to let him know his next move in the story for hours.

“Come to bed,” he cups the front of your throat and his tongue finds the shell of your ear with a tender flick.  “You’ll figure out what to do with me tomorrow.”

“But I need to know,” you gulp against his grip, eyes fluttering.  “I need to know what you will say, what you will do. I want to be close to you.”

“Be with me now,” he drags a finger across your bottom lip and your tongue darts out to taste him. “Close your eyes, I’m right here.”   

“I might hurt you this time, it won’t be pleasant,” you warn, watching the cursor blink through hooded eyes. 

“Hmmm you know I love it when you challenge me,” he murmurs, nuzzling the side of your head. “You always make it up to me so good.”

Your breath is shaky as his hand traces down the front of you.  “Please don’t leave,” you gasp at his touch.  

He drags slow kisses down your neck. “I’ll be here waiting right where you left off. You’ll always have me as long as you never let me die.”

You swallow an exhausted sigh, clicking the tab to close out of your document. “I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetheart. Wait for me.”

[filthy-gorgeous-library]

18+ nsft, fem!reader, period symptoms, needy Eddie, fluff

@raccoonboywrites this is your fault

♡♡♡

"It's just.. they get so sensitive y'know?" You shrug, talking as you eat your dinner like Eddie knows at all what you're talking about. You're oblivious to the dumbfounded look on his face. He hasn't even touched his spaghetti. "So I'm trying to lay down because of the cramps, but I can't fall asleep because my nipples keep rubbing against my shirt and-"

"Honey," Eddie's voice comes out strangled, his fists are clenched on the kitchen table. "I know I asked you how your day went, but I'm dying here. You can just talk about your boobs and expect me to sit here, not touching them."

"Oh," you giggle at his poor, pouting face. "I'm sorry, baby. Eat your food first and I'll let you touch 'em all you want."

Eddie perks up immediately. If he had a tail it would be wagging. You finish eating and take his plate when he finishes scarfing down his food. He doesn't listen when you tell him to slow down before he chokes, he's got way more important things on his mind.

You give both plates a rinse and load up the small dishwasher. Eddie's in the living room, already getting cozy on the couch. This is definitely your happy place. A cheesy old movie is playing on tv, Eddie with his arm curled around you, holding your back tight to his front. You sigh as his cold fingers slip under your shirt. His thumb lazily strokes the breast he cradles in his hand. There's no urgency, no hurry to turn this small moment into something big. Eddie stirs behind you but only to kiss your head and breath you in. His fingers warm and the weight against your chest settles you like nothing else could. Surrounded by his scent with his hands massaging your tired flesh, it's heaven.

[filthy-gorgeous-library]

Welp, your talent has just launched all coherent thought from my head. See y'all in 3-5 business days when maybe I've recovered a lil bit. 🤣

Wildflower

dark!nomad!Steve Rogers x f!reader

a/n: This was born from thirsting after nomad!Steve in @sparkledfirecracker ‘s DMs. Because look at that fine ass beard. I need him to choke me. Lol, I’ll pretend to be normal now. Banner & divider by me. Disclaimer banner by @dreamlessinparis.

tags: nomad!Steve (right??!), implied Stockholm Syndrome, alludes to disciplining into submission, implied self-pleasuring, dom/sub dynamic, bondage, deep throating

Steve runs a stout finger along your exposed shoulders…..he knows what you tried to do while he was gone.

Still, he hums his approval at your waiting form sitting prim and pretty in the wooden chair upon his return to the cabin, the summer dress falling off your shoulders, almost baring your plentiful bosoms to his heated gaze.

His tongue drags a wet stripe along his plump bottom lip.

“Feet apart, wildflower,” he instructs you, and hums once more when you follow his order without batting an eye, soles coming to rest against the wooden legs of the chair. 

One by one, he leans down to tie your limbs to the furniture; first both your wrists behind your back and then your legs to each leg of the chair so that you’re spread out all nice for him.

He pretends not to notice the condensation on your heaving breasts or the way in which the dress clings to the insides of your thighs, sticks to your damp core. 

He’ll have time enough to punish his pretty wildflower later today.

Standing behind you, he unzips himself with a groan, taking out his angry red length, throbbing with need, and grabs a handful of your hair to force your head back, tilting it as far as it can go, your eyes almost rolling as you strain to look up at him. 

“Open wide, honey,” he smiles.

You barely have time to process before his girth is pushing across your lips and down your throat. 

You breathe through your nose best as you can, drool already spilling from the corners of your mouth and tears escaping your eyes.

Steve loves this sight. Just him and his pretty flower all alone in the wilderness, to do with her as he pleases. 

It wasn’t easy in the beginning but being on the run had taught him to be patient. And once he had applied that principle with you (combined with some ruthless training), you had become his sweet, obedient little thing. 

His darling wildflower, learning to grow where he had planted her.

He’s never going to abandon you, not for the world, he promises himself, as he comes down your tight throat with a guttural roar.

everything tags: @harrysthiccthighss @pandaxnienke @galens-mistress @littlelioncub43 @purple-babygirl @alittlegiraffee @floral-recs @thefallenbibliophilequote @rach2602 @filthy-gorgeous

[filthy-gorgeous-library]

older!subby!eddie munson x plus size!reader 18+ nsft

cw: overstimulation, hand job, face sitting, ass play, reader is a little mean but eddie's into it, cum play, afab!reader

~~~

It's the second, maybe third time Eddie's come tonight and he's tired, exhausted because he's not so young anymore. Not the spry, desperate for attention kid that would come if a pretty girl, or boy, looked at him for too long. He needs a minute, and he's begging you for one.

But your hands don't leave his swollen, achy cock. He's bright red and leaking, his body betraying him when he's not sure if he can take anymore. Your pretty pussy is staring him in the face, drooling from the pounding it took not ten minutes ago.

But you're not done with him. No, you want Eddie to come again. To spray your tits with his cum with your pussy on his tongue. And Eddie wants it too but he can't. He whines over and over. He can't, he can't, he can't.

Your arm's getting tired and you're tired of his whining. A thrill shoots through Eddie's balls when you tug on them and tell him to give you what you want. Eddie wants to be good, he always wants to be good for you, wants to make you happy because, fuck, you deserve it. But he needs a push, needs some help to push over that ledge because he's not what he used to be. And as mean as you are trying to pull more from him than he can give, you don't let him dwell on his insecurities for even a second.

You know what he needs, you know how to pull his sick little strings to get him there. With a slap to Eddie's thigh you tell him you're done waiting. He's going to come now. You adjust your hips and bring your feet together behind Eddie's head, pulling his face between your cheeks. Eddie groans, his dick twitching and pumping out more precum. You work his cock with both hands, tugging harder on his balls until Eddie's panting against your hole. Do it now, you tell him, give me what's mine. Eddie inhales deep, his eyes rolling back as his whole body shudders and shakes. His legs seize and his hips buck and he shoots his third load of the night on your tits.

There, was that so hard? Eddie loves and hates that tease in your voice. He swats your ass as you climb off and look down at him with those beautiful eyes of yours, so full of mischief. Eddie thinks you've never looked prettier, naked and covered in his cum. What a lovely way to die, sapped of all his energy by the most devious succubus he's had in his bed. Eddie's full heart races as he watches you lick your chest clean with teasing fingers. Eddie may be a tired old fuck these days, but he's a lucky one too.

[filthy-gorgeous-library]

Oh sweet bejeezus, am just a puddle on the floor - it's becoming a strong running theme with your works. 🫠

Ecstatic applause for you and grabby hands for this. 💛

warnings: 18+ - mdni. frankie x afab!reader. fingering.

author’s note: happy slutty Sunday ☀️

Frankie being overly cautious about fucking you with his massive cock for the first time. So he insists on basically fisting you. He needs to get you used to the feeling of being split in fucking half all the time.

“Just another finger, gatita.” Frankie husks, sliding a third finger into your overstimulated core, stretching you even further, more than you ever thought possible. “That’s it, relax for me. Let me spread this pretty pussy open.” His thick fingers feel foreign as he thrusts into your heat, forcing your channel to mold around his imposing digits. 

You lay dumbfounded in a pool of shiny slick as it drips down your cheeks. Frankie works you to the edge and back an unfathomable amount of times. It's a tortuous game that makes you paw at his bare chest and whimper into every possessive kiss. 

“One more.” He husks, nibbling the apple of your cheek. A heavy thumb draws passive circles around your swollen clit. Your body shudders. Your head lolls from side to side, so overstimulated and wrung out. You can’t possibly take anymore. “No, no. Don’t give up on me, gatita. I haven’t even stuffed you full of my cock yet.”

He adds another finger while licking into your mouth, claiming two of your holes at once. You lose track of where you end, and he begins. Long, fat fingers glide and prod, producing frantic mewls and copious amounts of cream from your body. He slithers like a snake into the deepest parts of you, forming you to his liking and bending you to his every desire.

“Look at you.” He groans, pulling away to peer between your sticky thighs. Your soaked folds tightly nestle his four thick, creamy fingers as he lazily thrusts them back and forth. “Never seen such a puffy cunt stretched to the brim before.” 

He grazes something devastating deep inside— your belly lurches. You scramble to grab ahold of him as he continues to shove his fingers into your channel, disregarding your delirious mewls. 

“Gonna fuck that tight cunt open.” He drops his forehead to yours and stares down into your soul. “Won’t be surprised if you can’t hold my cum after. S’gonna be dripping out of you like a faucet.”

[filthy-gorgeous-library]

Shelter

Pairing: Robert Pronge x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1,294 Summary: You open your home to an injured stranger. Warnings: Mild sexual content. Explicit language. A/B/O. AU. Pet play elements. Fugitive!Robert. Sweet, sheltered!Reader. Soft!Robert (yep, you read that right lol.)

A/N: Alright, y'all, next up in the Pound Town verse is our favorite nasty soft!dark babe, Freezy. Enjoyyy! 😏

Robert hissed in pain as he stumbled through the forest. 

One of his big hands pressed against the stab wound in his stomach, blood seeping through his fingers as his vision began to swim, and he knew that he was in trouble.

He thought it had been a stroke of luck that the brawl had broken out in the prison yard, that somehow he'd managed to swipe a guard's keys despite being nearly gutted by a fellow inmate. 

And when he stepped foot outside the prison gates, sweating and bleeding, he grinned, breathing in a deep breath of freedom before the sirens started wailing and he took off into the nearby woods.

It felt like he had been running for hours, and he didn't think he had even been followed with the riot still likely going on back at the prison, but after spending the last eight years incarcerated for a double homicide, well, Robert would keep on running until his legs gave out if it meant never going back to prison again.

So that's exactly what he did. 

He ran until his body gave out, and as Robert laid on the forest floor, gasping for breath and bleeding out, he stared up at the infinitely tall trees above him–and the peeks of bright blue winter sky beyond them–grateful that at least he wasn't going to die in his cold, barren prison cell.

Robert woke slowly, consciousness coming back to him in lapping waves of realization.

He was alive.

His body was sore and his stomach was burning in agony.

He was warm and surrounded by a soothing scent that he couldn't quite place, something that reminded him of autumn spices and fresh baked treats.

And he wasn't alone.

Keeping his breathing steady and his eyes narrow slits, Robert peeked out from beneath his lashes to take in his surroundings.

He seemed to be stretched out on a sofa in a small log cabin, the space open and tidy, and a roaring fireplace just across the room keeping him warm.

And in the armchair adjacent from the foot of the sofa sat you.

You looked small and soft, a handknit blanket tucked over your lap as you curled up in the chair and worked on some kind of needlepoint.

Robert just stared at you for a moment, his nostrils flaring as he realized that the soft, soothing scent he'd clocked earlier was you.

And that you were an omega.

His breath caught at the realization, because fuck. He hadn't been near an omega in almost a decade, not since before he was locked up. 

It was instant–and primal–the way his alpha roared to life. 

You perked up at the sound of Robert's breath hitching, quickly rising from your seat and moving toward him. 

"You're awake!" you exclaimed just as you reached Robert's side, extending your hand toward his forehead to check if his fever had broken.

But that's as far as you got before Robert was launching himself at you. 

It was a cocktail of his alpha and survival instincts, as well as the sweet scent of your wrist gland filling his nostrils as you hovered over him, that had Robert snapping.

You squealed as he knocked you back onto the floor, wheezing as his big, heavy body crushed you beneath him.

For a long moment, the two of you just stared at each other, tense and silent.

Sweat dotted Robert's forehead as he panted and gazed down at you, his white teeth bared in a quiet snarl as his nostrils flared. 

You just gazed back up at him, too stunned to be afraid as you watched him with big, pretty eyes that shone with the kind of innocence that had his cock twitching.

"Who are you?" he growled.

You stammered out your name, your throat jumping on a nervous swallow as he repeated it in his rough, gravelly voice. 

"Where am I?" Robert asked next, his eyes finally flickering away from yours to drink in the rest of you. 

The delicate, unmarked column of your throat. The hint of cleavage that peeked out from the top of your conservative–and what looked to be handmade–dress.

He sank against you even more, his hand finding the swell of your hip and gripping hard as he swallowed back a groan, because you were so fucking soft and fragile beneath him.

"You're in my home," your voice regained his attention. "I found you out in the woods, unconscious, when I was picking berries for my pie."

"Christ," Robert hissed at your ridiculous, fairy tale like answer, trying to blink away the black spots that were dancing on the periphery of his vision. "You're an omega?"

You nodded, finally looking frightened as he hummed at your confirmation and his smoky alpha scent intensified.

"You're out here in the middle of nowhere? All by yourself?"

"Y-yes, my daddy didn't want me to go off to a shelter or breeder, so he kept me hidden out here," you babbled nervously. "He was a doctor, so that's how I knew how to patch you up as much as I could."

"And no one knows I'm here?" Robert rasped, losing his grip on you as his body began to feel heavy, too heavy for him to hold up anymore.

"No, I don't talk to anyone else and I never see anyone out this far, and certainly never an alpha like you–" your words morphed into a startled squeak as Robert suddenly collapsed on top of you, unconscious.

It took lots of squirming and trying to be as gentle as possible to shift Robert's weight off of you so you didn't jar his injury, but you finally had him laid out on the throw rug before the fireplace. 

You were just tucking some blankets over him when his eyes slowly fluttered open, and he groaned, scowling up at you as you knelt over him. 

"How are you feeling?" you asked. 

"Fucking fantastic," he snarked back, grunting in pain as he went to sit up and his stomach twinged. "Fucking fuck that hurts."

"Here, stop moving so much," you gently admonished, reaching behind you for the mug of water on the coffee table. 

You gathered the straw you had stuck in it and held it out for Robert to drink from, waiting for him to pull away before setting the mug aside. 

"Why are you helping me?" he asked suspiciously.

Your lips curled a little at his narrowed, wary gaze.

You had never met anyone so grumpy before.

Well, not that you had met many people in general, but still.

"Because you need it," you answered at last.

Robert just continued to watch you warily, his nostrils flaring and eyes drifting lower and making you squirm.

"Are you hungry?" you asked, feeling a sense of relief when his gaze lifted once more, away from your body.

There was a sparkle in his eyes now as he watched you–something knowing and devious–as his lips curled into a smirk as he replied, "Oh yeah, famished."

Your face warmed in an instant at his tone and you shifted away, keeping your gaze lowered as you murmured, "I made some soup and bread, I'll bring you some."

As you rose to your feet, Robert huffed a quiet, "Hey."

You shyly met his gaze, curling your fingers together before you as you shifted your weight.

"I'm Robert."

You perked up, smiling before saying, "It's nice to meet you, Robert." 

And then you were scurrying off into the kitchen to get his meal, unaware of the way Robert stared after you the entire time, his gaze hungry, predatory, as he snickered under his breath to himself, "Oh, we'll see about that, kitty cat."

Look. I am so here for him lollll.

VERSE MASTERLIST

---

I no longer do tag lists, but if you'd like to be notified when I post new writing, follow my side blog @‌sirisshamelesshoelibrary​ and turn on notifications to get pinged when I drop some new hoe fuel 😘

Please note that I do not give permission for my work to be translated, reposted, or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or my personal author website. Reblogs are most welcome and encouraged though! ❤️

[filthy-gorgeous-library]

Pound Town Masterlist

Pairing: Various CE Fictional Babes x their (different) fem!readers

Summary: In a fucked up omegaverse where omegas are treated more like pets than people, some of our favorite babes make it a little better.

Warnings: Explicit sexual content. Explicit language. A/b/o AU. Some MFM trio pairings. Pet play elements. Various other warnings per story, so be sure to read those.

Status: In progress

🥵 Indicates explicit sexual content. 😈 Indicates dark content

Forever Home (Curtis Everett x Fem!Reader x Jake Jensen) 🥵

Stray (Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader)

Obedience (Lloyd Hansen x Fem!Reader) 🥵

[filthy-gorgeous-library]

Eddie coded