Cooking For Abby..

wolfcut megs🙉😍🙉

Ac: Qikiix

HI HES SO PERFECT IM SCREAMIGN HOLY😍😍😍😍 I NEED THIS MAN LIKE RNNN HELLO WHAT WHO ALLOWED HIM TO BE THIS FINE

Like if she could break me it be a dream come true 💖💖

https://www.tumblr.com/svccubuss/738669179535835136/having-your-head-pushed-down-further-into-the Ok but this with Abby?!?!

[link to post] oh anon...... i want her to break me in half like a glowstick

18+ minors dni

abby is strong, she knows she is. having all that strength is great for her day to day life, of course. it's also great for when she needs to keep you in place and fuck you like you deserve.

"keep your fucking hips up," she huffs, shuffling forward on the bed so that your ass is squished up against her pelvis, no where to run. she's grinding against you, strap reaching the spot that always ends in the bed being soaked when you're both finished and utterly spent.

you're practically rendered speechless, mouth wide and eyes rolled to the back of your head as you take and take, take whatever she gives you.

you feel abby's hand leave your hip and press against the side of your head, smooshing your face against the duvet, wet from your spit, her spit and the tears you didn't even realise were leaking from the corners of your eyes. her other hand smooths its way from your right hip, travelling up your back and pressing down between your shoulder blades, trapping you in place.

she's relentless- pressing all of her weight down onto you as she fucks you, the slapping of your ass against her pelvis spurring her on as she watches you with heavy eyes- watches for any sign that you can't breathe or are uncomfortable but when you catch her gaze and smile lazily, lip caught between your bottom teeth, she knows you like it. like how much she could easily just break you if she wanted to.

no matter how much bigger or smaller you are she'll always be strong enough to fuck you just right, she'll always be your strong girl <3

(✿ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)⁾⁾ can wait for that date ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

╔══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╗

buff guy

╚══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╝

ʚ Part 1 ɞ

❥ CW: chubby fem reader x buff guy

❥ A/N: hello!! I compiled the first two drabbles of this series into one fic! Im hoping to continue the fics in the future :) feedback is always appreciated!!

It's when he brings you flowers for the third time that you become a little suspicious of his intentions.

"He likes you," your coworker whispers as he leaves. "When are you gonna give him the chance?"

You shrug, putting the flowers on the counter by the register, rearranging them a bit.

"I think he's just trying to be nice."

"Why in the world would he keep bringing you flowers if he wasn't interested in you?" She grabs your shoulder, pulling you to face her. "The next time he comes in, just ask him how he feels. Maybe he'll be more direct and tell you how he feels."

Two days later, he's back, carrying a red bag. He approaches the counter, opposite hand in his pocket.

"The usual?" your coworker asks, but he's not looking at her, staring at you across the room, watching you steam milk. You pour the milk in a paper cup, placing down the pitcher and finally making eye contact with him. The two of you stare at each other, your coworker glancing back and forth before approaching you.

"Let me take over," she says, taking the cup from you and putting on a lid. She leans in to whisper. "Ask him."

You glance at her before looking back at him, running your hands over your apron, approaching the register where he stands.

"The usual?" you ask, and he nods. You click on the screen, bringing up his order. "Anything else?"

"What's your favorite drink?"

You twist your lip, looking up in thought.

"It's a little complicated."

"Tell me."

You take a deep breath.

"Well, I like to get two ristretto shots over ice, add two blue sugars, sometimes I add toffeenut or white mocha, and then I add oatmilk. Or soy, if I want some protein."

He hums.

"One of those too."

You pause, tilting your head quizzically before reaching towards the register.

"What size?"

"Whatever size you get."

You squint in thought, typing in the order. You give him the total, let him insert his credit card, and grab the cups you need. You make his order quickly, placing it at the other end of the counter where he now stands. You work on the second drink, placing it in front of him a minute later. He doesn't move for either drink.

"Is... there anything else I can do for you?"

"Yeah." He pushes the second drink back towards you. "Drink this for me."

"I—"

"And take this." He places the red bag on the counter next to the drink.

"Uh... what is it?" He nods towards the bag.

"Open it."

You hesitate, sliding the bag towards you and glancing inside.

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck, you think as you reach in and take out a heavy box wrapped in plastic.

"Perfect by Marc Jacobs?" you ask in a whisper. You glance up at him and he's just staring at you, an intense look in his eye. You swallow, peeling off the plastic and opening the box. You pull out the bottle, removing the cap and sniffing.

"Smells nice." You put the cap back on and look at him again. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

You both stand there silently for a moment before you put the perfume back in the box.

"Did you get this for me because I smell?"

His eyes widen, his hands raised.

"I didn't—"

He stops when you smile and laugh, tossing the plastic in the trash.

"I'm just messing with ya." You see his shoulders loosen as he lowers his arms, a smirk creeping up on his lips.

"Funny."

You move the bag behind the counter, making sure there wasn't a line before returning to him.

"Do you usually buy perfume for girls?"

"No," he replies quickly, finally taking his drink. "Just you."

You hum, grabbing the drink he bought for you.

"Why?"

He swallows his drink, staring at you the whole time.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Um... no, not really."

He scoffs, putting his cup down.

"The flowers, the perfume... what do you think it means?"

"Uh..." You glance at your coworker who's just leaning against the counter, smiling as she watches the two of you. "I, um... I thought you were just trying to be nice."

"You think buying perfume for a stranger is 'trying to be nice'?"

"I don't know," you reply defensively. "I just don't see why else you would give me stuff."

He leans his hands against the counter, bringing his eyes down to your level.

"You really can't think of any reason why someone would bring you flowers and perfume?"

You pause, then shrug, pouting at him. He sighs, hanging his head before standing up straight, grabbing his cup.

"Guess I'll have to try harder next time."

You scrunch your eyebrows as he starts walking away.

"Try what next time?" He doesn't answer, opening the front door. "Try what next time?" you yell after him, but he's already gone, taking a right and walking down the street.

You're dumbstruck. Your coworker starts squealing and jogs to you.

"Oh my god, the tension was so thick I could cut it with a knife!" She giggles and bounces. "I can't believe my work bestie is being pursued by a guy like that!"

"He's not pursuing me." She groans, throwing her head back.

"Alright, sure, keep telling yourself that. Meanwhile he'll keep bringing you flowers and then it'll be chocolate and jewelery and–"

You zone out, not paying attention. You glance at the drink he bought for you, wondering.

"He's coming!" your coworker whispers to you, bouncing for a moment before regaining her composure as he walked through the door. He approaches the counter, glancing at her before staring at you. He's carrying a bouquet of roses and a red box wrapped with a white bow.

"You're here for her, right?" she asks, pointing at you. He nods, and she turns, giving you two thumbs up as she walks past you, moving to the other side of the coffee bar. You pause, unsure, but eventually make your way to the register.

"Your usual?" you ask, but he shakes his head.

"Not today." He hands out the flowers and box. "For you."

"I..." You don't know what to say, so you just take the gifts, giving an awkward smile. "Thank you...?"

He nods towards the box.

"Open it."

You try not to show how nervous you are, putting down the roses on the counter. You peel the white ribbon from the box, taking off the red lid.

"Holy fuck?" you whisper, putting down the lid and pulling out a string of pearls. "What is this?"

"They're pearls."

"Yeah, I can see that, but why are you giving them to me?"

"Do you not like them?"

"No, I do like pearls, but–" You put the pearls back in the box, staring up at him. "Why are you giving them to me?"

"So you can wear them."

You roll your eyes.

"What? No, really? I thought I was supposed to eat them."

He smiles.

"You're funny. I like that."

You sigh, putting the lid back on the box, setting it down on the counter.

"Look, you've been really nice, but I don't think this is appropriate."

He glares.

"Why?"

"Well," you start, fiddling with your fingers, "I don't think your girlfriend would like you giving me all these things."

"I don't have a girlfriend." You blink.

"Well, I don't think your boyfriend would—"

He laughs, deep and gruff. It makes your stomach flip in the best way.

"I'm not into men."

"Then... well, why would you—"

"Look," he starts, leaning against the counter. "I want you to wear those pearls. I want you to wear the perfume I got you too. I want you to wear them to dinner with me."

Your cheeks burn. You swallow hard.

"W-Why do you want to have dinner with me?"

"You'll see." He stands up, reaching his hand out. "May I see your phone?"

You hesitate, but reach into your pocket, unlocking your phone and handing it to him. He takes it gently—holy fuck his hands are big—and taps at the screen for a little while. He hands the phone back to you, smirking at you. You read the screen, seeing his phone number and contact name: Future Husband 💕.

You sputter, wondering if your face could burn any hotter as you look up at him.

"Send me your address: I'll pick you up on Friday at seven."

Before you can respond, he turns and walks away, leaving the coffee shop. Your coworker squeals behind you.

"Oh my god, girl! I am totally living vicariously through you."

You huff, changing his phone contact to something more sensible.

Buff Guy

My dyslexic ass would love this XD 

professor nanami who fucks you in his office after hours as he grades your papers and tells you how good you're doing on his cock but how much improvement your writing needs and spanks you for every grammatical error he finds 🥴😩

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱──────────

TRINKETS- ELLIE WILLIAMS (fluff/100% sfw)

⚠️: men and minors dni. here’s the ellie williams fluff we’ve all wanted! short & sweet & not sad ♡ enjoy! xoxo (kinda edited)

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱──────────

it almost could be considered a shrine of sorts at this point. your girlfriend frequently brought you back things from patrol— she either thought you’d like it or if it reminded her of you. ellie lived for the way your eyes would light up when she showed you something she brought back just for you.

the first item ellie ever brought you back was a simple golden locket. heart-shaped and engraved with flowers around the edges. you made ellie pose for a polaroid picture, which you ended up gluing into the locket. you always wear the necklace, telling ellie it means she’s always close to your heart, no matter how far apart you may be that day. it’s simply your most prized possession.

the second gift is one that lives on your bed. ellie had brought you back a pink stuffed rabbit about a month into your relationship. she heard how worried you’d be while she was gone, so she got you a buddy to help with the anxiety. she even lets you spray it with her cologne when you get too upset about her leaving. while you still worry, you now feel calmer on your nights alone with a piece her to cuddle with. ellie definitely doesn’t keep a polaroid picture of you sleeping with it in her pocket to look at on patrols. definitely not.

another gift came soon after a drunken confession. it was spilled that you wish you could paint your nails like in the old magazines passed around jackson. dina had agreed with you, “yeah, i think i could definitely pull off a deep red color. it’d be cool to do.” unbeknownst to you, ellie had spent three months worth of patrols trying to find you some nail polish. forest fairy green, golden goose, sparkly pony pink, pink panthers, wine o’clock red, in bloom blue, and black 01 were given to you one wednesday after her patrol. you started crying after giggling about the silly names. “why are you crying? do you feel okay?” ellie frantically searched your face. you smiled through your tears, “i love you so much. i just can’t believe you remembered.” she kissed your forehead, “anything for my best girl. love you always.” safe to say you shared your red with dina so you could have matching nails with your friend.

the most recent post-patrol gift given to you was a cookbook. ellie had explained her and jesse explored an old bookstore, leading to some fun discoveries. after coming to jackson, it was soon discovered by everyone that you were massively talent when it came to cooking. plus, you’ve always taken pride in cooking dinner for both you and ellie. cooking together was also a favorite of both of yours. you’ve shared many wine and cooking date nights together.

committed to going on patrol one day to return the favor, you had finally convinced ellie to let you go on a safe supply run with jesse. it only took you five months of begging. ellie almost cried tears of happiness when you brought her back a leather bound journal. she had immediately noticed the three page long love letter, lipstick kiss, and polaroid picture of you two you’d put in the first few pages. to say it quickly became her most prized possession would be an under statement. she took it around with her frequently. it was her second little reminder of you when you two were apart. a lot of pages held little physical moments of your love together. she couldn’t have ever asked for a better gift or girlfriend.

This right here delicious and best believe I’m coming back for more ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

🤍𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬🤍

info: john price x female reader | inspired by 🎧daddy issues / the neighborhood🎧

category: angst, fluff

warnings: negative self talk, dd/lg themes, petnames (sweetheart & doll), lmk if i missed any.

a/n: excited to finally post something of substance on here, i have a million ideas i'm gonna try to write over holiday break.

You let your head fall to the steering wheel, huge, ugly sobs wracking your body. Your chest coiled in pain, constricting around the giant, empty hole of nothing, where something should be. Where you needed something to be. Or someone. 

You felt disgusting as you blew your nose once more, adding the rough napkin to a pile of its snot-covered brethren littering the passenger floorboard. You’d been trying not to cry for an hour, all to no avail. 

Rolling down the window, gasping for fresh air, something, anything…

The sky, dark and cold, offered no comfort, the moon and stars, no light, and the breeze gave only a bitter chill. You needed to not be alone tonight. You couldn’t be alone tonight. Dear god, I’m so tired of being alone…

The phone rang once.

Twice.

Three ti-

“Evenin’.”

“John-” you choked out, tears streaming at the sound of his voice. “John, it hurts.”

“Darlin’, what-”

“Can I come see you?” A pause. “Please.”

“Come on,” he said quietly. “I’ll leave a light on for ya’.”

You threw the car into park, yanked your keys out, and slammed the door. You weren’t gonna make it. He lived on the ground floor, no stairs, that was good. Your head felt like it would float away if it weren’t for the pounding ache. You slumped against his door and knocked as loudly as you could.

A moment passed, and you wondered if the light had already been on for someone else. You ruin everything.

Footsteps. Bolt sliding out of place. Move. You gathered your weight and stood, lip trembling, in front of John Price. 

He wore a simple tee, worn with age, and faded track pants. Nothing fancy. You couldn’t look him in the eyes.

He made a soft vocalization and beckoned you inside. You stepped in quickly, skirting past him, afraid to get him contaminated. He closed the door behind you, locking it with surety, and turned to you with a tilt of his head. “What happened, doll?”

That did it. You crashed into his chest, crying nigh uncontrollably, hands gripping his shirt, hair a mess. 

John let out a small uff and it took him a moment before his arms very gently crossed behind your back. You didn’t care. 

“It fucking hurts, and I hate it, I hate this shit, I just want it to go the fuck AWAY!” you wept into him, tugging at the fabric he wore, hoping the clench of your palm would take away the clench of your heart. 

He sighed. In an instant, his arms had slipped down and around, scooping you off the floor and letting you curl into his torso as he walked to his room. 

“No, John, no, I’ll fuck up the bed, I can’t stop cr-”

“Hush,” he grumbled. His voice sounded thick but you didn’t have the capacity to wonder why. “Y’can’t stand right now. I’ll worry about the bed.”

He nudged the door open with his foot and you did your best to bury your entire head into his shoulder. Something, anything to take it away, to go to sleep, and feel nothing for a while…

John set you down and the mattress cradled your body. His bed smelled like him. Everything smelled like John. He lifted you up by the back and slid a few pillows underneath you, handing you a box of tissues from the nightstand. “Easy, now.” John stepped to the door, but you audibly cried. 

“Please don’t…please don’t leave.”

His eyes rested on you for a long beat, softening by the second. He stepped back to the bed and cupped your tear-damp face in his hand. “Okay,” John said, tucking your head into his stomach. “I won’t leave.” 

Those words set you off again, and your body shook from the weight of the heaviness on your shoulders. “I can’t keep living like this, John, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t-”

“I know,” he murmured as he began to stroke the back of your head, “I know.” Still keeping you tucked into him, John moved over your body and sat next to you, his back against the headboard. “Come here, doll.”

Sniffling, you scooted closer to him and pressed your head into his chest. His arms wrapped you once more, and he touched his rough lips gently to your skin. “I’m here. ‘M not goin’ anywhere.”

Your head pounded again, in cadence with your heart, your breathing, your chest, your pain, your everything, and it was all too much-

“Please make it stop, I can’t do it anymore, John, please, please!” you begged, nails carving moons into your palms. 

“Gotta breathe, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Gotta breathe.” John took your wrists in his hands and lifted them above your head, brows creasing at the way your torso still tried to cave on itself, like the implosion of a star. “In…all the way…atta girl, out…easy, now…in…out…there y’go, in…out….” You gradually came down from the high, hiccuping less and seeing more clearly. John sighed again. “Come on, you.”

“Where?” you said, voice cracking. 

“Shower. Warm water’ll do y’good.”

You nodded numbly and held onto his index finger as he stepped around the bed to the bathroom, afraid that he would vanish into the dark. He clicked the lightswitch, and a soft, warm glow illuminated the cool tile room. “Up y’get,” he grumbled, taking you by the waist and planting you straight onto the counter. John leaned into the shower and turned the water on, letting it run over his hands. You let your foot dangle on his leg. You didn’t want to stop touching him. Ever. 

“John?” 

He stood, flicking the water from his fingertips, and motioned for you to lift your arms up. He began to peel your shirt off your body with heartbreaking gentleness. 

“Yes, doll.”

“I’m sorry,” you said through tee-shirt cotton, pulling your arms out of the entanglement.

“Don’t be.” John lifted you from the counter and crouched, unbuttoning your jeans. 

“I am.” You stepped out of the awful denim as he pulled it down your legs. “I feel disgusting and I made a fucking mess of you.”

He stood once more, stepping around you, pulling the fastens of your bra apart. “‘Boutta clean it off.” He moved to face you once more, pulling the straps down your shoulders and away from your skin. John’s eyes found the angry red line underneath your breasts from the combined too-small band and heaving sobs. He thumbed them softly. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, barely audible over the shhhhh of the water. 

John knelt again, tapping the inside of your thigh. “Gotta get these off.”

You obliged, stepping out so he could hook his fingers around the elastic of your panties and take those off you as well. 

You stood in the pile of your clothing and reached out, tugging at his own. “Can I?”

John nodded, his eyes never once leaving your face as you worked his body out of his shirt and track pants, hovering over his boxers before he stroked the shell of your ear. “It’s okay,” he said, his voice thick again. “Won’t hurt ya’.” You mimicked him, crouching to the floor and tugging the waistband down to reveal his naked body. He was soft, not an ounce of arousal present. Something in your stomach twisted, and tears prickled at the edge of your eyes again. You moved the boxers over his foot and put it on the growing pile of clothes. 

John’s knuckle traced your cheek. “Come on, doll. Into the water with ya’.”

You stood and shivered when his hand came to rest at the small of your back, guiding you slowly into the warm water haven. Stepping over the rim of the tub and into the shower stream, you let the water engulf you, flowing over hair and neck and face and chest. 

John stepped in after you. He didn’t move for a moment, and you opened your eyes to meet his gaze. “What?”

“‘M sorry you’re in s’much pain.”

“...thanks.”

“Let me make it better.” You stiffened. His eyebrows knitted together in alarm. “No, not like that. Easy. Just….” John picked up a dark bottle of shampoo. “Just let me help.”

“Okay,” you whispered, turning to face the water, trying desperately to keep from crying, if only to stave off another headache. 

John’s fingers laced through your hair then, working down to your scalp, through your roots all the way back to your ends. “I know it’s not what you normally use…”

“It’s okay. Thank you.”

John put his palms on your shoulders and turned you gently, gathering you into his still-dry chest and rinsing the soap from your hair. “Not a problem, doll.” 

As the shampoo ran down your back, you lifted your arms ever so tentatively, and put them around his neck. John went still for a moment, but only just a moment, and soon his fingers were back to scrubbing your head. 

You opened your mouth to the smell of his shampoo on your hair and the bare skin of his chest in front of you. His heart, thumping steadily, beat right below your cheek, and you instinctively pressed into him. 

John’s hands slowed and he began stroking your back, gathering any hair fallout, smoothing over your skin, and breathing in your scent the same as you inhaled his. “I got ya’. ‘M not goin’ anywhere.” 

The tears came again, unbidden, but not fighting their way out as they had earlier - now they simply flowed. As you cried, John turned you back around, applying conditioner, body wash, scrubbing your body for you, tapping gently when he needed you to lift an arm or move a leg. He never stopped touching you, never lost contact with your skin. And he didn’t take advantage.

When John tapped your thigh, you wondered vaguely if he would attempt to rile you up, making the excuse of “just cleaning”. But he didn’t. A soft wash cloth lay between his fingers and your folds, and he worked the soap over your mound just the same as he had the rest of you. He lathered your breasts gently, without an ounce of boyishness, simply soaping and rinsing. John’s own body got wet in the process of cleaning you, but you found yourself too exhausted to care. 

As the last of the conditioner was washed out of your hair, John let the water run over your back, holding you between the heat of his body and that of the shower. 

“Thank you, John.”

He nodded, muscles squeezing almost imperceptibly tighter around you. “Let me know when you want to get out,” he murmured.

“Okay.”

Minutes passed and you simply stood in his arms, letting every emotion that once filled your ribcage to the point of breaking flow down the drain with the water. And John stood with you, stroking your hair when the sniffles and hiccups returned, pulling you to him when they subsided. 

You spoke up, quietly telling him you were ready to get out. He shut off the water, reaching out to grab a towel for you and helping you step out of the slick tub.

“Atta girl, doll. Slow. Good.”

John wrapped you in the plush cotton, using another towel to dry off your legs, crouched before you once again. You managed to get to your arms, but it wasn’t long before he made his way up your body and met you there, his eyes soft as he took over. “I got ya’, darlin’. I got ya’.” You looked up at him with still-teary eyes as words failed you. The ghost of a smile passed over John’s features. “I know. You want a shirt?” You looked at your own tee, covered in snot, and nodded profusely. John took your hand and led you back into his darkened room. Switching a lamp on, he opened a dresser drawer and produced an almost-identical faded, age-worn tee, indiscernible from the one on the bathroom floor. “Here you go, doll.” John turned to see you right on his heels, feeling small in the unfamiliar territory. He really did crack a smile then. “Come on. Arms up.” You obeyed, your chin sinking to your chest. His eyes never strayed from their task, even as the towel covering your body fell to the ground and fluffled around your ankles. “I got shorts or pants,” he said, “You got a preference?”

Your skin prickled in the post-shower chill. “Pants, please.”

He nodded and did the same as before, dressing you with quiet comfortability, slipping soft material up over your calves and thighs. Without asking, John also produced a pair of black, thick socks, pulling them onto your feet with ease. 

“Do…do you want me to…?” You gestured to his bare skin. “I…can. If you want.”

He met your gaze, gentle eyes making you feel a bit less hollow. “Just stay next to me.”

“Okay.” I can do that. You settled onto the bed’s edge, feet not quite touching the floor, and watched him pull a shirt over his huge back and another pair of pants over his massive legs. “John?”

“Yes, doll,” he replied as he shook the water from his hair into a towel. 

“Can we…can I, I mean, you don’t have to, can I, um…take a nap?” When he didn’t answer immediately, you tripped over yourself to explain. “Just-just for a bit, I’ll drive home tonight, I won’t stay, I just thought maybe-”

“Sweetheart.”

You sat stock still. John’s hand came up to your shoulder. “Breathe, kid. ‘M not gonna kick y’out. Stay as long as y’need.”

You stuffed your hands in your lap. “Thanks.”

He tilted his chin to the headboard. “Get under the covers, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Your body moved before your brain caught up, and you were snug as a bug in a rug before you processed the full extent of his words. He’ll be here in…does he think we’re…what the fuck- 

As the confusion set in, John returned, leaning on the doorframe, phone in hand. “Y’like pizza?”

You blinked. “Yes.”

He padded toward the bed, clambering onto the mattress - the added weight made your body fall towards him as an uff escaped your lips. You smiled, the first one tonight, and curled under his arm. 

“Y’wanna order it?” John asked, showing you the screen. It’s cracked, but you can still easily make out the Domino’s online ordering menu. 

“Yessss.” You kicked your feet out in his soft sheets. Making your selections, you handed it back to him and watched his face for any sign of displeasure. He showed none. 

“Looks good, doll. You can sleep while we wait for it.”

You sat with that for a moment. “No.” You twisted your head up to look into his eyes. “Thank you, John. I would have driven off the road if not for you.”

He cleared his throat. “‘M glad y’came to me. Thank y’for lettin’ me take care of you.”

“I…like you taking care of me.” Your heart pounded and you became acutely aware of his hand on your shoulder, large palm and splayed fingers. 

“Yeah?” John’s voice rumbled in your ear, low and full and delicious-

“Yes,” you said earnestly, propping yourself up to look at him properly. “John, I…I…” He had the nerve to look amused. “...I…”

John chuckled. “Just stay. Stay and I’ll take care of you.” 

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”  

“I…don’t know what to say.”

His features softened even more, if that was possible. “Don’t have to say anythin’. Just tell me what you wanna watch.” John nodded toward the tv atop his dresser. 

“John…” you sniffled, squeezing his shirt in your hand once more. “Can I just…lay here for a while?”

“Course.” And without a further word, he plucked a pair of reading glasses from the nightstand, opened the faded western they laid on, and began to read. 

A few moments of silence pass, and they are un-fucking-bearable. Your thoughts begin to race again - He doesn’t want you here. You’re a burden. You take up more space than you deserve. What happened to looking out for yourself? You can’t, can you? Fucking pathetic, you are. What happens when he gets tired of you? What happens wh- “John?”

He looked at you over his glasses, brows raised. “Yes, sweetheart?”

You felt small again, but safer. Safer than you had in a while. “Would you mind…reading to me? I don’t think I can sleep otherwise.”

“I’m that tedious, eh?” John grinned when you flicked him on the arm. 

“No! No, I…I want you to.”

“Yes,” he chuckled, “I’ll read to you.” He turned the page back (“Can’t start right in the action, can we?”) and began, his voice flowing in its same gravelly cadence, filling your brain with soft warmth. The story was of a merchant’s daughter and the cowboy she fell in love with, and John had just gotten to the part where her father finds out. “‘-and they came to blows, fists flying through the dusty air, the world fallen silent save for the sound of knuckles on bone, and-’ Are you asleep?”

You blinked, still very much on the verge of unconsciousness. “Nuh-uhhhh…” You stretched out under his comforter, nestling your face back onto his warm thigh. 

“S’okay,” he said. John laced his fingers through your hair once more. “Y’need the rest. Take it. I’ll wake y’up when pizza’s here.”

You needed no further encouragement. As sleep overtook you once more, you managed to mumble out, “Thanks, Daddy.”

John was very still for a very long time.

Then, “...You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

a/n: if you liked this, please let me know with a like, reblog, or comment 🤍

all dividers courtesy of @saradika

tumblr i dare u to not delete this ty

you were on your back, legs spread as your man devoured you. the length of time you were like this was long forgotten as you felt your orgasm nearing for the fourth time tonight. “i c-can’t baby i n-need a breakkk.” your legs were tired and shaking, but you knew better than to disobey your boyfriend. even if it meant you being here all night. “ion care hold ‘em up or ima add another hour.”

an hour? this man has snatched three, almost four, orgasms out of you in an hour? you felt like you’ve been here forever. his long tongue knocked you out of your thoughts. moving up and down your pussy, licking and slurping up your juices as he brought you to ecstasy. once you felt two of his long, slender fingers start working themselves into your walls you screamed. the noise ripped out of your lungs as he quickly dug into you, mouth steadily wrapped around your clit as your body shook. “o-oooo g-godddd.”

was all that was said before your juices rushed out of you, soaking the bed and the bottom of your man’s face. you watched him stand up. tall, toned figure looming over yours as he rid himself of his boxers. his dick slapped against his stomach, tip almost touching his bellybutton as precum ran down the sides.“s’not god mama..it’s jus me. now stay just like that so i can take care of you aight?”

connie, onyankopon, aran, tanaka

inspired by @c0lt4five

Treat me like a rag doll

request: I headcanon Simon as a gentle dom but by reader’s request, Simon roughly fucking you :((( having his cock in your mouth and tears in your eyes as you moan from him hitting the back of your throat :(( massaging his balls. You just want to be covered in his cum!! Simon having enough and hastily getting you up into his arms and finally fucking into you while holding you up. He’s nipping at your jaw and neck, grunting into your ears and letting his mouth run wild as he talks about your wet pussy. Bonus points for a very sloppy creampie :(((( I just want his cum so bad it hurts

sloppy drooly sex w simon :(((

you asked simon to be rough w you this time and even though he was unsure at first because he knew he wouldnt hold back he agreed :(((

simon and throat fucking !!!! he wouldnt even let you have your way :(( hes got his hands tangled in your hair holding your head and forcing his big cock down your throat :(((

and when you look at him with teary doe eyes that man loses it 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 he will throw his had back while the sluttiest moan makes his way out of his throat 😵‍💫

and he will cum all over your face!!! and make you swallow his cum that went in your mouth :((

'swallow it, love' and then you open your mouth to show him that you did in fact swallow :((

'mmh yeah, thats my good girl' 😵‍💫 (istg that man-)

and then he scoops you up in his arms (because yes that bitch can manhandle you no matter your size) he burries his face in your chest or neck and leaves hickies EVERYWHERE!!!! :((

no because he WILL grunt in your ear and nuzzle his nose in your hair 😵‍💫

'nngh, fuckin' love this pussy, baby' while hes nipping at your jaw :(((

and then you both cum at the same time 😵‍💫 but im telling you that man can cum so much that he cums both inside of you and all over your tits and tummy :(((

hes sloppy hes messy and i need him so bad.

THE DINNER BELL FOR THIS FIC IS FINALLY HERE

Ik my cowboy lovers @chrollohearttags and @honeybleed will want a bowl of this considering the cowboy bender we went on

INTERACT WITH THIS POST FOR A TAG AND BE SURE TO REBLOG SO OTHERS CAN BE NOTIFIED

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