kdogreads

[kdogreads]

Logical

Will Richie help Reader switch off, or will his conscience get in the way?

MDNI NSFW 18+ only please.

Based on a lovely prompt from Erica @diorrfairy and an anon request. This is daddy!Richie x younger!reader.

Warnings: Reader calls Richie daddy, unprotected PIV, oral F and M receiving. Reader is female and in her twenties. No other physical descriptions.

Approx 2.6k

...

“I just wish I could switch off..” you take a drag from your cigarette – snatched from Richie’s pack – and let your head fall back against the wall.

Richie looks sidelong at you, the smoke from his own cigarette a cloud illuminated by the lights from the kitchen behind, “Was just some fuckin sauce..”

“I know..”

“Guy was being a dickhead..”

“He called me a stupid bitch..”

Richie holds out his hands placatingly, “All I’m sayin is, it wasn’t a big deal.”

“Yeah, well all I know is that I’m going to be lying in bed in a couple of hours playing it over and over..” you take another drag, “fuck, I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

Richie is struggling against an image of you tossing and turning in bed, he clears his throat, “I get nights like that.” Shit. Why did he say that.

You turn to face him, shift a little closer, “You do?”

Richie nods as he stubs out his cigarette and tosses it into the makeshift trash can by the door.

“And what do you do about it?”

“I don’t..”

“Do you ever think it would be easier if you had someone..”

“No.”

“But you’re on your own too, right?” You reach out, smoothing your fingertips down his tie.

“Don’t.” Richie’s jaw clenches. His conscience doesn’t like where this is going. His dick hasn’t got the message.

“You could help me switch all this noise off..” you wind the silky fabric through your fingers.

Richie sighs heavily, plucks your hand from his body, “It’s not a good idea.”

“It’s not?”

“I’m old enough to be your..”

“Daddy?”

Jesus Christ. “Fuckin.. no, that’s not what I was gonna say..” Richie can feel the colour rising in his cheeks, “look you’re too young, y’know. You can’t take a fuckin joke.”

“That guy tonight, that was a joke to you?” You look at him incredulously.

“No..” Richie shrugs, “but if you were a little more mature maybe it wouldn’t seem like such a big deal.”

“So I’m immature now?” You fold your arms over your chest. “Fuck, Richie. Why don’t you say what you really think.”

Richie opens his mouth to reply, but thinks better of it. Stuffs his tongue in his cheek and stays quiet.

You wipe your eyes with your hand. Hot tears have been threatening to fall for half your shift, but you’re not going to give him the satisfaction. Fucking asshole. You push off the wall and head back inside without another word.

Richie pulls another cigarette from his pack as he watches you walk back into the kitchen. By the time the stub has joined the others in the bucket, you’re long gone.

...

Richie winces, his back still turned, "Nothin, cus, I swear to god.."

Back in the kitchen, Carmy is pissed, Richie can hear it in the fast approaching footsteps as he washes his hands.

"What did you do to her?"

"Just fuckin fix it, alright?"

"It's late though, I should.."

"Go." Carmy jabs his finger toward the door, "she doesn't show tomorrow, that's on you."

"Jeez.. fuck, cousin, alright.." Richie roots in his pocket for his car keys, "I'll go check on her."

..

Richie measures up to himself in the rearview mirror. He’s not going to do this. You’re too young, too soft. Maybe, maybe if you were just a little older, or if he was a little younger.. But you’d been upset and he’d made it worse. All he’s going to do is check that you’re okay. Apologise. Be professional.

He tells himself these lies while he’s parked outside your building. Guilt is burning a hole in his chest, but when he closes his eyes all he feels is the heat of your hand on his chest and all he hears is daddy.

...

You sit on your couch trying to will yourself up and into bed. It’s been a long day.

Stupid bitch. That had been what the guy had called you. Stupid bitch. Over what? Some spilt sauce. Another day, another asshole, but the anxiety that had risen in your belly was yet to fade away, and you find yourself predictably replaying the altercation in your head. And then there was that thing with Richie.

Richie. Fuck. You’d made such a fool of yourself. Daddy? For fucks sake. What were you thinking. You know what he must think. That you’re pathetic, a kid - he’d basically said as much, that you must be mad if you think he would ever.. You just want it to stop. For your brain to be quiet.

The buzzer sounds, breaking the silence of your apartment and the din of your thoughts.

You’re debating whether to answer when it sounds again. Longer this time, an angry intrusion. You pad over to the door, and warily press the button.

“Hello?”

“Uhh.. yo, sorry.. it’s..”

“Richie?!” Your voice is a squeak.

“Yeah, it’s Richie, I..”

“Come up.”

...

A minute later, Richie is leaning against your doorframe.

“I was just thinking about you actually.” You hope your voice doesn’t betray the weakness in your knees or the sudden dryness of your mouth.

“That right?”

“I was worried you’d think I was stupid.. for earlier.”

“I don’t think that.” Richie rubs a hand over the back of his neck, “Just wanted to check you were okay..”

Oh. Of course. “M’fine.”

“..That guy was pretty rough on you.. and I probably made things worse, so..”

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that too.”

“There you go with that thinkin again.” He looks at you, on the brink of cementing the bad decision he made when he pulled up in your lot.

“It’s a problem.” You stare back at him, heart in your throat.

The silence stretches between you where the air has grown thick. He can’t help but look at your bare legs, the t-shirt skimming the top of your thighs, can’t help but imagine what might be underneath. You’d probably been on your way to bed. He should leave - you said it yourself, you’re fine - but he doesn’t. He licks his lips, watches your eyes follow the movement, same as you had seen his eyes drag up your legs.

Pushing off the doorframe, he leaves his conscience in the hallway and shifts toward you, “You still want some help with that?”

“Y-yes.” You think your knees might give out.

“Yes, what? Hmm?”

Oh fuck. You know what he wants. You take a shaky breath and your tongue darts out to wet your lips, “Yes, please.. daddy.”

The door slams shut behind him and he steps into your space. Richie’s presence has sucked all the air out of the room and sweat is pricking at your skin.

“You sure bout this?” His eyes are searching yours.

You nod, and raise your hand to push your fingers across the scruff on his jaw. It’s softer than you had imagined. That thought is still drifting through your mind when his lips meet yours. That too is soft, at first. But then he squeezes the back of your neck and holds you tight, parting your lips with his tongue and stealing your breath. It’s insistent. It makes your head spin. He’s taking what he wants and it blurs your edges.

He pulls back a little, breathing heavily, hooks a finger into the neck of your shirt and tugs, “Take it off.”

You hesitate, dazed, smoothing the hem in your hands.

“I said take it off.”

His voice burns along your veins. You do as he says, pulling the old tee up and over your head.

Standing before him in your underwear you’re acutely aware that he’s still dressed. Shirt and suit pants still sharp. Only the tie is gone, replaced with the gold of his chain shining against his skin where his collar is open. It makes your mouth water. It makes you want to run. It makes you want to fall to your knees and beg.

Richie reaches out, brushes the back of his knuckles over the curve of your bare breast, “Real pretty.”

His touch leaves a shiver in its wake, and you fight the urge to close your eyes. Then his hands are at your waist, backing you into your couch until you fall clumsily into the plush cushions. Splayed over the couch, he stands above you. He looks so big like this, and your heart hammers against your ribs when he drops to his knees.

...

The shirt feels cool where his shoulders are pressed between your spread knees. Hot breath fans over your skin in the moment before he presses his mouth to your inner thigh, teeth sinking into the softness there, his tongue easing the sting. Your underwear is sticky with arousal, the little wet patch spreading under his gaze.

Richie nudges his nose along the seam of your pussy, making your stomach clench and your face burn with something like shame. Your instinct is to squirm away, but he has you held fast, his shirtsleeves pushed up and his arms wrapped around your thighs. Then his tongue follows the path of his nose, his spit mixing with your slick soaking your underwear and leaving it clinging to your puffy cunt. When he pulls away, you whine, hips lifting from the couch, seeking out his mouth again.

“Goddamn, so fuckin needy, huh..”

You look at him, too dazed to form a reply.

“Words, princess.”

“I.. I..” you clam up, your mouth drying out, unsure what to say.

“What do you want hmm?” He looks up at you, grazes his mouth over where your clit is throbbing beneath your underwear, “This?”

“Fuck.. daddy, yes..” your ribs heave as his fingers hook into your underwear and begin to tug them down, “I want you to eat it.”

Jesus fucking Christ. Richie’s pulse pounds in his ears as he gets his first proper taste of you, his tongue making a lazy trail from your hole to your clit. You’re silky and saline sweet on his lips. It makes him hungry, makes him want more. He holds you open, fingers digging into your thighs, and pushes his tongue into your pussy. It’s open mouthed and messy. So close to being consumed that the line between where you end and he begins is lost.

The line swims back into sharp focus when he replaces his tongue with his fingers, sinking them to the knuckle, his wedding ring snug against you. He curls his fingers, stroking and teasing a spot that has you dripping down his palm as his tongue swirls over your clit, working you until his jaw aches. And when he drives his fingers into you again he knows you’re close, knows you’re going to burst on his tongue, and the thought has him hard and straining the zipper of his suit pants.

Your fingers scramble for something to ground you before it overwhelms you. The couch cushions slip under your grasp, then your hands find his head where it is dipped between your thighs and you push your fingertips through his hair. Pressing him down even as every muscle in your body winds tight, hips canting up against his hot, wet mouth. And oh fuck.. oh fuck.. “oh fuck.. I’m gonna come.. I’m gonna..”

It rolls through you as your words fall away, replaced by gasps and cries, and Richie swallows you down.

...

He has you pressed into the mattress, his mouth on yours, his body sinking into the cradle of your spread thighs, teasing, barely there thrusts that have his cock sliding against you, nudging inside. And fuck you need more, try to rock your hips up, try to get him deeper, but you’re pinned beneath him.

“Please.. Richie.. Please..”

He shakes his head and you realise your mistake, but not before his teeth dig into your bottom lip making you hiss. Shit.

You chase the sting away with your tongue, “M'sorry.. Daddy..”

The word hangs in the sliver of space between his mouth and yours, swirling with your breath in the moment before he kisses you again. Richie rolls his hips as he licks into your mouth, cock sinking into you another inch, “S’this what you want?”

“Yes..” your voice turns to a cry as he pulls out and then fucks into you hard, filling you up.

His hands slide up your thighs and press your knees back against your chest and he drives into you again, pushing the air from your lungs and every thought from your mind except more. And maybe he can see what’s in your head, or maybe you said it aloud, but it’s punishing, it’s rough, it’s so, so good you could cry.

“Doin so well for me, baby.” Richie’s voice is soothing even as he bruises your hips with his fingers, tugging you against him. “Gettin so wet for me.”

Heat flashes over your face. You can hear it with the wet slap of his skin against yours. You can feel it every time he fucks into you, winding you tighter each time. Hot, slippery pressure on the brink of overflowing.

“That’s it..” he snaps his hips mean and hard, “I got you..”

There’s sweat gathering on your brow and in the small of your back, tears stinging at your eyes. And he’s grinding into you now. Has found your edge and is pushing you over, sending you into freefall.

Richie can’t take his eyes off you as you fall apart. So fuckin beautiful. His hand finds the hot skin of your cheek, lingering there, thumb at the corner of your mouth. He nearly loses control when your tongue dips out to lick at him. You’re ruined and achingly perfect, and the fucked out little whimpers he’s still pushing from you have him on the edge of a precipice, sparks building at the base of his spine, his dick throbbing inside you, so close, he’s gonna..

“Christ.. sweetheart.. where?”

You’re lost to his words, seeking out any parts of his hand you can reach with your mouth, sucking and..

“Fuckin..” Richie smacks your cheek, and the urgency in his voice brings your gaze to his, “where?”

“In my mouth.. please, I wanna..”

The words have barely left your lips and he’s hauling you up to sit, crowding you against the headboard. His knees sink into the mattress either side of your chest, and he slides his fist over his cock, shiny slick from your pussy, so close that when you push your tongue out, you can swipe it through the precome that beads on each upward stroke.

That’s his undoing. The first touch of your wet tongue. His hips stutter as he pushes his dick into your mouth with a grunt. You open up wide around him to take him to as far as you can, sucking in a breath through your nose before letting him sink in another inch.

Hard and heavy on your tongue, nudging at the back of your throat, there’s a moment of absolute crystalline bliss, everything else melting away. Then he wraps his hand around the base of your skull, and you suck and swallow around him. Watching through the tears trembling on your lashes as his body tenses, the muscles of his belly taut with it in the second before the first hot rush hits your tongue.

...

“How’s that brain of yours?” Richie is sprawled over your bed. Long limbs tangled in your sheets.

“I think it melted..” you sigh, settling your head onto his chest.

“That’s good right?”

“Mmmhmm.. will you..” you stifle a yawn, “will you stay?”

“Y’know Carmen’s gonna fuckin kill me if he finds out bout this?” Richie’s voice is sleepy.

“I know..” you twist his chain in your fingers, “and don’t forget Chef Syd..”

“Fuck.. you got me in some trouble, kid.”

“So.. will you stay?”

“Y’want me to?” He props himself up on his elbow to look you in the eye.

“Yeah..”

“Then yeah, yeah I can stay.” He pulls you toward him and holds you close, “If that’s what you need.”

#Amy are you kidding me #this is so good I had to stop halfway through and live tag #first leaving his conscience in the hallway???!!!!!!??!!!! #then the pushed sleevessssss #Amy how could you (in the best way) #no no first was “do you still need help with that problem? LIKE 😅🥵🙂‍↕️🫢😨🫣 #all of those emojis are important #I feel like I just clocked back into real life at that last part #A M Y #this is a masterpiece #i am big proud #ily 💕💕 #kdogreads now

[kdogreads]

Save A Horse, Yadda Yadda…

pairing: Joel Miller x reader

summary: you find yourself getting distracted by the man next to you. his thick fucking thighs always grabbed your attention

warnings: 18+, smut, thigh riding, slight degradation, bit of dirty talk, reader gets called a good girl, oral (f receiving) but literally for a second, use of pet names (honey, baby, sweetheart)- lemme know if i forgot anything

w.c.: 2k

⁺˚°｡⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆｡°˚⁺

It was a relatively slow, easy day in Jackson. You had got caught up on house chores, which albeit, there wasn't much to do anyhow. Joel did patrol early in the morning and had the rest the day to wind down, and Ellie was hanging out with Dina.

Flipping through a book, only paying half-attention while you skimmed the pages, you caught yourself stealing glances at Joel who sat beside you on the floral printed couch. He whittled away at a block of wood, working on a new little side project with careful focus. The sound of a sharp blade gliding across the surface of each corner was the only thing that could be heard.

Perhaps that's what was distracting you.

Slow.

Or perhaps it was the way his biceps flexed under that shirt of his, or the way his veins seemed to protrude from the top of his hands and up his forearm with each thought out stroke.

Maybe it was also the way he was sitting with his legs spread, letting the wood shavings and chips fall to the floor that he always promises to 'clean up after.' How his thighs appeared thicker, meatier when he's sat like this in that pair of denim that you innocently, accidentally, shrank just a tad bit when you last did laundry.

Your own thighs clenched together.

Easy.

"Don't hurt yourself now." Joel's low voice brought you out of your stupor with a snap of your head, uttering a small noise of confusion.

"You're thinkin' too hard." Joel clarified, flicking his gaze to you briefly as he swiped another stray chip from his lap.

'Smartass.' You thought before letting out a soft hum in reply and lean back against the couch, closing your book and tossing it onto the coffee table.

There was a beat of silence. Your eyes trailed over Joel's body again, breath hitching with the image of his large, broad frame.

He seemed to have noticed the way you eyed him so hungrily while lost in your thoughts, his gaze following yours to his lap. With a smirk, Joel took the opportunity to spread his legs a bit wider, knee pressing against yours subtly.

You watched and squeeze your thighs together once more.

Gotcha.

"Hey," he murmured before setting his project down on the end table next to him. "What's goin' on in that pretty li'l head'a yours?"

“Nothing,” You answered, the side of your face turning up somewhat with a wince at how quickly you responded.

Joel scoffed and folded his arms over his chest and sat back, head tilting disbelievingly with a cock of his brow, “Yeah? So y’ain’t starin’ at me like some piece’a meat?”

You rubbed at your nose as you felt the all-too-familiar warmth of embarrassment kiss at your face, but you couldn’t deny it. Joel had meat for days under all that clothing. So thick, and big, and-

“Lookit ya! You’re still doin’ it.” Joel gestured a hand towards you, brows drawing together with a shake of his head.

“Am not!”

“Bullshit!”

He turned his head and scratched at his chin, nails scraping the graying facial hair before he looked over at you again. His eyes trailed you up and down, and with a sigh he grabbed at your hips, eliciting a surprised yelp from you, and settled you onto his lap.

“What’re you doing?” You asked, instinctively placing your hands on his shoulders for stability.

“It’s not what I’m doin’,” he muttered and hooked a hand in the bend of your knee, gently making you spread a bit wider, “It’s what you’re doin’.”

Your brows furrowed this time, nose scrunching with confusion. You part your lips to speak, to ask what the hell he’s talking about, but that all quickly went down the drain the moment he had you roll forward.

A soft moan replaced all words instead, your eyes fluttering shut as you ground against him.

“Mhm,” Joel noised, watching you with a stoic mask. “ ‘S’what I thought.”

He kept force-rocking your body, arms flexing and grip tightening.

Back and forth, back and forth.

“Joel,” You panted, eyes screwing shut with a fall of your head.

“Hm? That feel good, baby?” He cooed, voice mockingly sweet. You nod and he watched with a smug look plastered on his face. “Yeah, poor thing jus’ wanted some attention, huh?”

Joel’s cock began to twitch inside his already-too-tight pants- which, by the way, he knew for a fact was your doing- and he unclasped his belt skillfully with one hand, undoing the button and lowered the fly.

“You’re gonna ride my thigh,” He instructed, pulling out his half-hard length from his briefs, “an’ I’ll think about lettin’ ya cum.” His other hand slid down from your hip and to your knee, giving a light squeeze.

Your eyes snapped open. What the fuck does he mean, ‘I’ll think about it’?

“Aht!” He could see the disapproval etched on your features, the way your brain was racking up some counter argument. “Don’t wanna hear it. Y’already lied twice t’me now; so excuse me for not playin’ nice.”

Joel swiped a tongue over his bottom lip before giving his cock a tug, “An’ I think I’m bein’ awfully fuckin’ generous lettin’ you hump my leg like a damn bitch in heat.” His voice was low, almost inaudible as he narrowed his eyes.

With a huff of air, you continue rolling your hips, forward and down. Then you tried moving side-to-side, chasing after a high that wasn’t there. Your body slowed before stilling completely and take in a sharp, frustrated breath.

“I didn’t say stop,” Joel gruffly spoke, eyes piercing into your skull.

“I’m not getting anywhere, Joel,” You complained before letting your head slump into the crook of his neck. What was once a pleasurable feeling, dry-humping his thigh, got uncomfortable fairly quickly with the way the seam from your jeans dug into you.

“Kinda the point, ain’t it?” The man retorted and tilt his head down to take a look at the pitiful frown on your lips. He chewed at the inside of his cheek for a moment, feeling his heart soften. Joel was mean, sure, but he wasn’t evil.

Finally, Joel conceded and tapped at your leg, “Alright, get up.”

He held your hands to spot you as you slid off his lap, back to your feet. Then his large fingers worked to get your pants off, helping you shimmy out of the denim. Joel gazed at your lower figure fondly, a faint smile creeping on his face as he hooked his finger into your panties, swiftly tugging them down. The man let out a low whistle at the sight of your slick-coated folds, then leaned in, tongue seeking out your entrance briefly before swiping back up to your clit. Your breathing hitched, legs twitching at the new pleasure making your stomach burn hot, then he pulled away again, not before leaving a delicate kiss under your navel.

“Come on back, honey,” Joel’s voice eased from his stern tone, now more gentle and loving. He guided you back over his thigh and closed a fist around the head of his dick once more. A shudder ran up your spine as your lips came in contact with the fabric of his pants, your arousal already soaking the denim. Before you could start moving again, he gripped your chin in his free hand, lightly squeezing to make your lips part and directed them over his length. “Spit.”

Complying willingly, you let saliva gather in your mouth and drooled all over the head and top of his fingers.

“Good girl,” Joel praised lowly and began stroking himself. “Go ‘head, sweetheart.”

Once you got the green light, your hips shifted tentatively before falling into an easy rhythm. An airy sigh pushed past your lips in content as your head fell back into place on Joel’s shoulder. A hand came up to hold it in place, fingers carding through your hair.

“That’s it, baby, jus’ like that.” He murmured, fist tightening around his dick as he watched you greedily get yourself off. Moans and grunts and breathy exhales sounded through the room, along with the wet smacking of Joel’s cock gliding through his hand.

“Actin’ like such a needy slut,” Joel commented, lip curling into a snarl before a low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Can’t go two seconds without makin’ a mess’a yourself.” The way Joel went back and forth from degrading to loving then back damn near gave you whiplash.

You mewl into his shirt and clench around air, hips picking up speed while you gripped his bicep. Joel’s thigh was damp with your arousal, the warmth seeping into the fabric and vaguely hitting his skin.

“Or a mess’a me,” He added with a pleased glint in his eyes. You felt his body shake with each passing stroke of his fist. The fact he was getting off to you getting off on him made you shiver with delight. Heat began to build up in your core, stomach fluttering and tightening while goosebumps erupted across your body. You lift your head from his shoulder and crash your lips against his messily; teeth closing, tongues swirling.

You retreat, just enough to speak, “Joel,” the pitch of your voice raised in warning, hips stuttering as your forehead rest against his.

“No,” He denied flatly.

“Joel,” You repeated. Pathetically, Joel thought.

“Gotta learn your lesson somehow,” he countered with an unbothered face, tone lacking sympathy. “If ya wanted some lovin’ y’know ta ask. I’ll take care’a ya.” His own breathing hitched as his thumb swiped over his slit, wiping precum down the underside of his shaft as that close feeling creeped up on him as well.

“But ya didn’t do that, didja? Then you lied-“

“I didn’t wan- fuck- didn’t wanna bother you,” You explained in a hurried slur of your words, throwing your head back while desperately trying to hold off on your orgasm.

Joel’s face softened, but just barely. His tongue clicked, gaze trailing down your neck and to your breasts that subtly bounced with each move of your lower body, then to your pussy gliding back and forth across his denim clad thigh.

Fuck it.

“Okay,” he breathed out with a curt nod and grasped your chin once more, leading you back to face him, “You’re gonna cum- but you’re gonna look at me when ya do, got it?”

You nod against his palm, brows curving inward as your eyelids flutter; the coil on the verge of releasing.

“Repeat it.”

A heavy sigh escaped your lungs, “I look at you wh-when I c- oh, fuck-“ Your eyes widened, cunt clenching as your body convulsed and writhed over top of him.

He smirked proudly when you couldn’t even finish your reply. Your slick spread further over his leg and he relished the feeling. “Good fuckin’ girl, that’s it.”

You continue to ride your high out, eyes never leaving Joel’s. His lips press against yours once more, tongue flicking over your bottom lip before pushing it in. Your hands came up to cradle his face while you swallowed down every single moan and grunt leaving Joel’s throat just as he spilled himself into his fist.

Breaths labored, chests heaving, and legs trembling. You break the kiss and smile down at him before planting a quick peck to the bridge of his nose, making him smile.

“I love you,” Joel whispered, wiping the mess off his fingers onto his pants. Eh, they needed to be cleaned anyways.

“I love you,” You say back. He lies down, pulling you on top as he catches his breath. “I’ll wash your jeans for you next time I do laundry.”

He hums softly, closing his eyes and slips his hand under your shirt, soothingly running his nails up and down your back, “Sounds good,” There was a beat, then, “Jus’ don’t shrink them any further.”

⁺˚°｡⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆｡°˚⁺

thank you for reading <3 and thank you for all the love on my previous fics. for the longest time i never posted any of my stories to tumblr because i felt they weren’t “good enough” haha. it’s genuinely keeping me motivated to keep writing and hone my skill, so please feel free to keep reblogging and/or leaving a comment <3

#kdogreads now #the tag is dorky ik but I need some structure in my life 😅😂 #anyway #OH MY #this was 🥵🥵🥵🥵 #so spicy #i am sweating #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut

[kdogreads]

Jealousy Installment List

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Fitness Instructor!Reader and Frank Castle x Fem!Fitness Instructor!Reader

Warnings/tags: 18+; Sexual tension, flirting, lust/love triangle, smut, and some competitive, jealous Matt and Frank

Your days are spent training members of Fogwell’s Gym as well as keeping the place running for your elderly uncle. Though if you were being honest, your favorite part of working at Fogwell's had always been the handsome man who'd long ago struck a deal with your uncle to use the gym after hours. Despite his constant denial, you'd quickly figured out that he was Daredevil. While the pair of you had often flirted during his late night visits when you were still around, nothing more had ever happened between you two. Until one day he shows up with a very attractive friend and everything changes. You soon find yourself the center of both their attentions and unable to choose either one. But what's wrong with a little competition among friends?

List of Installments

1: The Bet {Coming Soon}

#I’m very pumped #matt murdock x reader #frank castle x reader #frank castle smut #matt murdock smut

[kdogreads]

unsung benefit i think a lot of ppl are sleeping on with using the public library is that i think its a great replacement for the dopamine hit some ppl get from online shopping. it kind of fills that niche of reserving something that you then get to anticipate the arrival of and enjoy when it arrives, but without like, the waste and the money.

#I love Libby!!! #I hadn’t thought about it like that but NOW #books & libraries

[kdogreads]

My sad old man❤️

#THIS MADE ME FEEL #like 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵 #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters

[kdogreads]

javier peña in every episode of narcos

1x10 despegue

you’re a shitty liar, javi, but i’ll buy whatever you’re selling

#mess me up please #hi daddy #pedro pascal #javier peña

[kdogreads]

Save A Horse, Yadda Yadda…

pairing: Joel Miller x reader

summary: you find yourself getting distracted by the man next to you. his thick fucking thighs always grabbed your attention

warnings: 18+, smut, thigh riding, slight degradation, bit of dirty talk, reader gets called a good girl, oral (f receiving) but literally for a second, use of pet names (honey, baby, sweetheart)- lemme know if i forgot anything

w.c.: 2k

⁺˚°｡⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆｡°˚⁺

It was a relatively slow, easy day in Jackson. You had got caught up on house chores, which albeit, there wasn't much to do anyhow. Joel did patrol early in the morning and had the rest the day to wind down, and Ellie was hanging out with Dina.

Flipping through a book, only paying half-attention while you skimmed the pages, you caught yourself stealing glances at Joel who sat beside you on the floral printed couch. He whittled away at a block of wood, working on a new little side project with careful focus. The sound of a sharp blade gliding across the surface of each corner was the only thing that could be heard.

Perhaps that's what was distracting you.

Slow.

Or perhaps it was the way his biceps flexed under that shirt of his, or the way his veins seemed to protrude from the top of his hands and up his forearm with each thought out stroke.

Maybe it was also the way he was sitting with his legs spread, letting the wood shavings and chips fall to the floor that he always promises to 'clean up after.' How his thighs appeared thicker, meatier when he's sat like this in that pair of denim that you innocently, accidentally, shrank just a tad bit when you last did laundry.

Your own thighs clenched together.

Easy.

"Don't hurt yourself now." Joel's low voice brought you out of your stupor with a snap of your head, uttering a small noise of confusion.

"You're thinkin' too hard." Joel clarified, flicking his gaze to you briefly as he swiped another stray chip from his lap.

'Smartass.' You thought before letting out a soft hum in reply and lean back against the couch, closing your book and tossing it onto the coffee table.

There was a beat of silence. Your eyes trailed over Joel's body again, breath hitching with the image of his large, broad frame.

He seemed to have noticed the way you eyed him so hungrily while lost in your thoughts, his gaze following yours to his lap. With a smirk, Joel took the opportunity to spread his legs a bit wider, knee pressing against yours subtly.

You watched and squeeze your thighs together once more.

Gotcha.

"Hey," he murmured before setting his project down on the end table next to him. "What's goin' on in that pretty li'l head'a yours?"

“Nothing,” You answered, the side of your face turning up somewhat with a wince at how quickly you responded.

Joel scoffed and folded his arms over his chest and sat back, head tilting disbelievingly with a cock of his brow, “Yeah? So y’ain’t starin’ at me like some piece’a meat?”

You rubbed at your nose as you felt the all-too-familiar warmth of embarrassment kiss at your face, but you couldn’t deny it. Joel had meat for days under all that clothing. So thick, and big, and-

“Lookit ya! You’re still doin’ it.” Joel gestured a hand towards you, brows drawing together with a shake of his head.

“Am not!”

“Bullshit!”

He turned his head and scratched at his chin, nails scraping the graying facial hair before he looked over at you again. His eyes trailed you up and down, and with a sigh he grabbed at your hips, eliciting a surprised yelp from you, and settled you onto his lap.

“What’re you doing?” You asked, instinctively placing your hands on his shoulders for stability.

“It’s not what I’m doin’,” he muttered and hooked a hand in the bend of your knee, gently making you spread a bit wider, “It’s what you’re doin’.”

Your brows furrowed this time, nose scrunching with confusion. You part your lips to speak, to ask what the hell he’s talking about, but that all quickly went down the drain the moment he had you roll forward.

A soft moan replaced all words instead, your eyes fluttering shut as you ground against him.

“Mhm,” Joel noised, watching you with a stoic mask. “ ‘S’what I thought.”

He kept force-rocking your body, arms flexing and grip tightening.

Back and forth, back and forth.

“Joel,” You panted, eyes screwing shut with a fall of your head.

“Hm? That feel good, baby?” He cooed, voice mockingly sweet. You nod and he watched with a smug look plastered on his face. “Yeah, poor thing jus’ wanted some attention, huh?”

Joel’s cock began to twitch inside his already-too-tight pants- which, by the way, he knew for a fact was your doing- and he unclasped his belt skillfully with one hand, undoing the button and lowered the fly.

“You’re gonna ride my thigh,” He instructed, pulling out his half-hard length from his briefs, “an’ I’ll think about lettin’ ya cum.” His other hand slid down from your hip and to your knee, giving a light squeeze.

Your eyes snapped open. What the fuck does he mean, ‘I’ll think about it’?

“Aht!” He could see the disapproval etched on your features, the way your brain was racking up some counter argument. “Don’t wanna hear it. Y’already lied twice t’me now; so excuse me for not playin’ nice.”

Joel swiped a tongue over his bottom lip before giving his cock a tug, “An’ I think I’m bein’ awfully fuckin’ generous lettin’ you hump my leg like a damn bitch in heat.” His voice was low, almost inaudible as he narrowed his eyes.

With a huff of air, you continue rolling your hips, forward and down. Then you tried moving side-to-side, chasing after a high that wasn’t there. Your body slowed before stilling completely and take in a sharp, frustrated breath.

“I didn’t say stop,” Joel gruffly spoke, eyes piercing into your skull.

“I’m not getting anywhere, Joel,” You complained before letting your head slump into the crook of his neck. What was once a pleasurable feeling, dry-humping his thigh, got uncomfortable fairly quickly with the way the seam from your jeans dug into you.

“Kinda the point, ain’t it?” The man retorted and tilt his head down to take a look at the pitiful frown on your lips. He chewed at the inside of his cheek for a moment, feeling his heart soften. Joel was mean, sure, but he wasn’t evil.

Finally, Joel conceded and tapped at your leg, “Alright, get up.”

He held your hands to spot you as you slid off his lap, back to your feet. Then his large fingers worked to get your pants off, helping you shimmy out of the denim. Joel gazed at your lower figure fondly, a faint smile creeping on his face as he hooked his finger into your panties, swiftly tugging them down. The man let out a low whistle at the sight of your slick-coated folds, then leaned in, tongue seeking out your entrance briefly before swiping back up to your clit. Your breathing hitched, legs twitching at the new pleasure making your stomach burn hot, then he pulled away again, not before leaving a delicate kiss under your navel.

“Come on back, honey,” Joel’s voice eased from his stern tone, now more gentle and loving. He guided you back over his thigh and closed a fist around the head of his dick once more. A shudder ran up your spine as your lips came in contact with the fabric of his pants, your arousal already soaking the denim. Before you could start moving again, he gripped your chin in his free hand, lightly squeezing to make your lips part and directed them over his length. “Spit.”

Complying willingly, you let saliva gather in your mouth and drooled all over the head and top of his fingers.

“Good girl,” Joel praised lowly and began stroking himself. “Go ‘head, sweetheart.”

Once you got the green light, your hips shifted tentatively before falling into an easy rhythm. An airy sigh pushed past your lips in content as your head fell back into place on Joel’s shoulder. A hand came up to hold it in place, fingers carding through your hair.

“That’s it, baby, jus’ like that.” He murmured, fist tightening around his dick as he watched you greedily get yourself off. Moans and grunts and breathy exhales sounded through the room, along with the wet smacking of Joel’s cock gliding through his hand.

“Actin’ like such a needy slut,” Joel commented, lip curling into a snarl before a low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Can’t go two seconds without makin’ a mess’a yourself.” The way Joel went back and forth from degrading to loving then back damn near gave you whiplash.

You mewl into his shirt and clench around air, hips picking up speed while you gripped his bicep. Joel’s thigh was damp with your arousal, the warmth seeping into the fabric and vaguely hitting his skin.

“Or a mess’a me,” He added with a pleased glint in his eyes. You felt his body shake with each passing stroke of his fist. The fact he was getting off to you getting off on him made you shiver with delight. Heat began to build up in your core, stomach fluttering and tightening while goosebumps erupted across your body. You lift your head from his shoulder and crash your lips against his messily; teeth closing, tongues swirling.

You retreat, just enough to speak, “Joel,” the pitch of your voice raised in warning, hips stuttering as your forehead rest against his.

“No,” He denied flatly.

“Joel,” You repeated. Pathetically, Joel thought.

“Gotta learn your lesson somehow,” he countered with an unbothered face, tone lacking sympathy. “If ya wanted some lovin’ y’know ta ask. I’ll take care’a ya.” His own breathing hitched as his thumb swiped over his slit, wiping precum down the underside of his shaft as that close feeling creeped up on him as well.

“But ya didn’t do that, didja? Then you lied-“

“I didn’t wan- fuck- didn’t wanna bother you,” You explained in a hurried slur of your words, throwing your head back while desperately trying to hold off on your orgasm.

Joel’s face softened, but just barely. His tongue clicked, gaze trailing down your neck and to your breasts that subtly bounced with each move of your lower body, then to your pussy gliding back and forth across his denim clad thigh.

Fuck it.

“Okay,” he breathed out with a curt nod and grasped your chin once more, leading you back to face him, “You’re gonna cum- but you’re gonna look at me when ya do, got it?”

You nod against his palm, brows curving inward as your eyelids flutter; the coil on the verge of releasing.

“Repeat it.”

A heavy sigh escaped your lungs, “I look at you wh-when I c- oh, fuck-“ Your eyes widened, cunt clenching as your body convulsed and writhed over top of him.

He smirked proudly when you couldn’t even finish your reply. Your slick spread further over his leg and he relished the feeling. “Good fuckin’ girl, that’s it.”

You continue to ride your high out, eyes never leaving Joel’s. His lips press against yours once more, tongue flicking over your bottom lip before pushing it in. Your hands came up to cradle his face while you swallowed down every single moan and grunt leaving Joel’s throat just as he spilled himself into his fist.

Breaths labored, chests heaving, and legs trembling. You break the kiss and smile down at him before planting a quick peck to the bridge of his nose, making him smile.

“I love you,” Joel whispered, wiping the mess off his fingers onto his pants. Eh, they needed to be cleaned anyways.

“I love you,” You say back. He lies down, pulling you on top as he catches his breath. “I’ll wash your jeans for you next time I do laundry.”

He hums softly, closing his eyes and slips his hand under your shirt, soothingly running his nails up and down your back, “Sounds good,” There was a beat, then, “Jus’ don’t shrink them any further.”

⁺˚°｡⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆｡°˚⁺

thank you for reading <3 and thank you for all the love on my previous fics. for the longest time i never posted any of my stories to tumblr because i felt they weren’t “good enough” haha. it’s genuinely keeping me motivated to keep writing and hone my skill, so please feel free to keep reblogging and/or leaving a comment <3

#kdogreads later #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #the last of us hbo

[kdogreads]

The Last of Us

➼ Joel Miller ‣Size Difference by palioom Joel Miller x F!Reader ‣Angst in Age-Gap Relationship by inklore Joel Miller x F!Reader ‣Ensnare by ozarkthedog CNC!Joel Miller x F!Reader ‣Come Clean by futureman Joel Miller x F!Reader ‣Keep It On The Low by futureman Ex!Joel Miller x F!Reader ‣Shadows by ozarkthedog [Dead Dove] Noncon!Dark!Joel Miller x F!Reader ‣Gimme What I Want: A Fic in Texts by atticrissfinch Joel Miller x F!Reader and sexting ‣Stiff by mothandpidgeon Erectile Dysfunction!Joel Miller x F!Reader with age-gap ‣Butterfly by stargirlfics Joel Miller x Black!Latina!Reader ‣Wolf Song by eupheme Joel Miller x F!Reader ‣In the Woods Somewhere by eupheme Joel Miller x F!Reader ‣Greedy Little Thing by ozarkthedog Joel Miller x F!Reader ‣Impetuous by inklore Joel Miller x Smuggler!F!Reader ‣Ain't No Sunshine by sunflowersteves Joel Miller x Sunshine!F!Reader [Part 2] ‣Just the Tip by toxicanonymity Dubcon!Joel Miller x Innocent!F!Reader ‣Reckless by psychedelic-ink Feral!Joel Miller x F!Reader ‣Misbehavior by stargirlfics Brat Tamer!Joel Miller x Black!F!Reader

dividers by saradika-graphics

#kdogreads later #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut

[kdogreads]

Feels Like Home

Feels Like Home | AO3 | Rating: M | Main Masterlist​

Pairing: Javier Peña x F! Reader

Summary:  They say you can't go home again, but maybe for you and Javi, home isn't a place - it's a person.

Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Language.

Getting Chucho Peña back up on his feet after a bad fall from the hayloft – that was all you’d been tasked to do.

But you hadn’t considered the prodigal son.

You hadn’t thought about all the ways dark, earthen eyes – eyes that had seen too much – could be so compellingly, devastatingly, hauntingly preoccupying. Hadn’t really thought of how the stories of this larger-than-life individual would pale in comparison to the actual person. Hadn’t really believed that this man and this town would get to you, become so much a part of you that you’re thinking about rejecting a career-changing offer that would see you moving on to bigger (though perhaps not exactly better) things.  

Four seasons have passed, and yet, you haven’t felt the itch to pack a bag and hit the road. And because you stuck around, Javi, Chucho, and you have become los tres amigos. Reading books and watching Cheers. Exchanging cards and gifts on birthdays and at Christmas. You host dinner at your place once a month. Javi occasionally pops in during your meal break at the hospital to bring you something decent to eat. And sometimes, his dad will call you nenita – a term of endearment that feels far too precious to be directed toward a drifting, wayward soul like you.

It’s hard not to mull over the what-ifs – especially with how Javi looks beneath the sparking lights of the convention center. Exuding confidence, chit-chatting, and mingling with your coworkers like a pro, all understated power and authority. He stays still while everyone else gets pulled into his orbit, revolving slowly around him, like planets circling the sun. He steers you in that way, too, pulling you into his atmosphere, making it painfully impossible to keep your gaze averted from the fine figure he makes in his charcoal gray suit.

This isn’t the first fundraising event he’s escorted you to. In fact, he’s graciously played the role of plus-one several times. Haughty conversations, dry chicken dinners, watered-down drinks, and office politics – he’s been there and done that. And for a man who says he hated it, that he’s left all that bullshit behind, he’s really good at it, reading the room and owning his space within it better than most of your puffed-up peers.

It’s difficult not to admire him. Get attached to him. To feel as if you’ve made a real, true friend. You don’t have many of those and neither does he. It’s as if you’ve somehow been chosen. That out of all the people in the world, he’s picked you.

Bowling on Thursdays. The little snort that sometimes escapes when he laughs. His gentle manner with horses. The scent of his cologne; a blend of leather, wood, and oakmoss. The way he always refuses dessert, but somehow, ends up finding room for two servings, especially if it’s your homemade peach cobbler. His shoulder – the one you lean on when you nod off during a football game. His arm – the one you grip during scary movies. His ear – the one he lets you talk off when the day has been too hard and too bloody, and you can’t fall asleep.

If you leave, you lose it all. You lose him.  

“Is it just me,” Javi prompts with a slight nudge, turning away from the inner circle and leaning in close to speak directly into your ear. “Or are all the doctor jokes really fucking terrible this year?”

His voice – low and amused – cuts through the chatter and clinking cutlery, guiding you out of the spiral of dark thoughts and back into the present. You glance up at him and wonder if that inquisitive, clever mind of his has worked out how you really feel and uncovered what you really think. And if he knows, has he just been too polite to say anything? Even if it’s only to let you down gently?

“Maybe you should teach them a thing or two,” you manage to quip, burying your emotions by taking a rather undignified gulp of merlot.

Javi snorts and shakes his head, “With their egos? Not likely. Look, can we get outta here? Go get some real food?”

You nod, placing your now empty wine glass on the tray of a passing waiter, and snagging your purse up from the table. Javi is quick to take your arm and the lead, guiding you both through the throng and a seemingly endless stream of polite farewells. The elevator, the parking garage, the drive-thru – none of it really registers. It’s not until you’ve fallen into the cushions of your couch, a heavy bag of tacos in hand, and two beers on the coffee table in front of you, that your brain gradually starts to come back online.

“M'starving,” Javi announces, snatching up the takeout bag and plopping down next to you. “Remind me next time to eat before I pick you up.”

He peels off his jacket. Kicks off his shoes. Wriggles his sock-covered toes into the plush carpet and sits forward on the cushion just far enough to reach the table. Large, deft hands drop napkins – one onto your knee and one onto his own – and then, he’s unfurling paper and distributing a half dozen oversized carne asada taquerias onto two paper plates. A brief pause. A rather ferocious bite. A long, low groan.

“Fuck me, that’s good,” he mumbles, cheeks puffed out and comically overfilled.

“Emily Post would not be impressed,” you teasingly chide.

Javi grins and juts his chin, “Hey, get my tie? It’s the one you got me for my birthday, and I don’t want to ruin it.”

Once his messy hands are out of the way, you do as he asks, working the knot free and slipping the silk off with a careful tug. You pop a few buttons for him, too, and he gives you a nod of thanks before digging back in with renewed gusto, washing it all down with long pulls on his beer.

You don’t know how he does it, but his steady, calm demeanor always manages to soothe you. You unclench your jaw. Relax your shoulders. Even eat with him. Once the food’s devoured and the mess is cleaned up, you offer him a nightcap that promises to be better than what he’d been served at the fundraiser, and he happily accepts.

With tumblers in hand, the two of you migrate out to the patio. Javi is quick to indulge in his after-dinner smoke, bringing flame to paper-wrapped tobacco with a practiced flick and inhaling deeply. He fills his lungs with nicotine a few more times before turning his attention to his glass, bringing it to his nose before taking a slow sip.  

“Dios mio,” he appreciates aloud. “What is this?”

“Macallan,” you tell him.

“That’s damn good whiskey.”

“It ought to be for five grand a bottle.”

Javi chuckles and lets out a low whistle, “You lift it off a truck or something?”

“It was a gift,” you admit, taking a seat on the outdoor bench. “From Brad.”

He blinks slowly, “Your ex?”

You nod and shrug slightly, “Bastard always did have good taste.”

Javi doesn’t pry – he just smokes and paces, seemingly content for you to either share or plead the fifth. You take a sizable gulp for courage and finally tell him about Alaska, about the brand new, state-of-the-art facility, and what an opportunity it is. You explain the position. Tell him it offers better pay and an extremely generous housing stipend. A year there, maybe two, and you’ll have your pick of any hospital you want to work at going forward.

Brad’s presence, his role as department head, his status as your ex-fiancé, the wholly inappropriate “welcome gift” he supposedly sent on behalf of the entire staff – a gift you’re certain was pilfered from his dad’s private collection – none of it matters. You’re going there for work because you go where you’re needed, nothing more.

“Got the papers inside,” you say quietly. “Just gotta sign ‘em.”

Javi curses. Drops the butt of his cigarette into the remaining inch of whiskey. Sets the glass down a little too hard on the window ledge. It’s tense now, the air between you, the atmosphere filling with acridness neither one of you is accustomed to. He rolls his jaw. You tap your nail against the tumbler. Javier runs a hasty palm over his mustache and then, much to your surprise, he sits down next to you.

Your glass is taken and hastily put aside. Slowly, carefully, as if giving you the chance to pull away, Javi slots his fingers between yours. When you don’t protest, he holds on tight and brings your knuckles to his lips. His palm pressed to your palm; he lowers his head until his furrowed brow meets the back of your hand. It’s so achingly, intimately tender, so unexpected and jarring, that makes your eyes well.

You swallow hard and clear your throat, “Look, Javi, I’m –”

“Don’t,” he interjects with a slow, purposeful shake of his head. “Just… Don’t.”

The moment stretches, unbearable with the weight of the unknown, all nerve-wracking and heady at the same time. Javi eventually looks at you – eyes searching and examining and questioning. Head slightly tilted, a wayward chunk of his hair tumbles out of its’ carefully coiffed place, and you don’t consider your actions when you take back your hand to carefully brush it off his forehead.

“I don’t want you to go,” he murmurs.

You frown and stroke his cheek with your thumb, “I don’t want to, either.”  

Javi’s fingertips brush your forearm, and when he leans forward, you meet him in the middle. Your mouths join. Lips brushing, breath stolen and returned. The two of you are traversing unmapped and uncharted territory, but it’s so easy. It's as if you’ve been touching like this, kissing like this, for such a long time.

All languid and unhurried until he licks into your mouth, coating your tongue in hints of vanilla, nutmeg, and smoke, and then, you’re both in pursuit of more. Tripping over each other to get back inside. Both of you going for his belt, and then, your underwear – no finesse or thought of the bedroom just steps away because the couch will work just fine.

Knees sunk into the cushions and cheek mashed into an armrest. Heels kicked off and the skirt of your ankle-length dress tugged up over your hips. Javi explores and discovers you from behind, tongue tasting the unmistakable evidence of your desire, and fingers stoking the flame until you’re begging him to put you out of your misery.

“Condoms,” you croak, gesturing blindly. “In my work bag.”

A low growl. Nips and licks and sucks to the back of your thighs, the curve of your hip, the rounds of your shoulders. You’re melting to the floor, rolling into your back, eyes barely able to focus as he snatches up your battered canvas tote and upends it, the contents spilling out messily and noisily across the carpet.

“Preparing for an orgy?” he teases, letting the line of rubbers unfurl above your head.

“Shut up,” you sass, nudging his thigh with your foot. “You know I had to teach that sex ed class today.”

“Did the hospital supply bananas?”

“Actually, it was cucumbers.”

Javi laughs. Tears open the package. Rucks up his shirt. You watch, gaze hooded as he slides the rubber on. You toss out a compliment to his technique, and he flushes, all hasty to push your legs apart and make room for himself between your splayed thighs. 

“It’s been – I haven’t done this in a while,” you admit, bravado lessening slightly.

Javi clicks his tongue, thumbs making small circles on your kneecaps, “Me, neither, cariño. Been saving myself for you.”

Your spluttered laugh brings out his hidden dimples, and then, he kisses you. Smiles gradually fade, amusement giving way to urgency, prompting you to reach for him, guiding him until he’s slowly sinking into you, filling you. And it’s a snug fit, but it’s just right, and when Javi rocks his pelvis, you’re remade. Suddenly cast adrift, in search of an anchor, you dig your fingers into his hair. Seek out his shoulders with your hands. Follow the curve of his spine and twine your legs around him just so you can feel the way flexes and stretches into your touch.

“Don’t stop,” you whisper against the shell of his ear. “Javi, please… Please, don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” he promises against your throat. “You feel so good, mi corazón. Feels like you’re mine. Like you’ve always been mine. Fuck.”

His words thrum through you, wreaking havoc, curling your spine, bringing even more heat to your cheeks. There’s no hiding the way your legs are trembling, no stopping your body from bearing down, from clenching hard, from trying to keep him deep inside for as long as possible. His name spills out from your lips like marbles on a wooden floor, the reverent mantra smothered only by his mouth seeking yours.

“Say you’ll stay with me,” Javi demands, teeth nipping your chin.

You nod frantically, “Yes. Yes, I’ll stay with you.”

In possession of you, of your agreement, Javi’s hold becomes unforgiving – fingertips digging into the meat of your hip and the nape of your neck. His thrusts turn pointedly devastating – retreating and surging forward, all precise and measured, purposeful in the way he seems to take control, bringing you to orgasm for the third time with a broad, self-satisfied smile that isn’t as humble as he probably thinks it is.

When he finally comes, he buries himself to the hilt, hips stuttering, stubble rubbing against your cheek as he muffles his groans of pleasure into the crook of your neck. As the two of you lie together in the afterglow, his head pillowed by your breasts, your arms and legs wrapped around him, breaths slowing until they match, the truth of you, of him, becomes undeniably clear.

Home isn’t a place. It’s a person.

And you’ve finally found each other.

#kdogreads later #javier pena smut #narcos fanfiction

[kdogreads]

Logical

Will Richie help Reader switch off, or will his conscience get in the way?

MDNI NSFW 18+ only please.

Based on a lovely prompt from Erica @diorrfairy and an anon request. This is daddy!Richie x younger!reader.

Warnings: Reader calls Richie daddy, unprotected PIV, oral F and M receiving. Reader is female and in her twenties. No other physical descriptions.

Approx 2.6k

...

“I just wish I could switch off..” you take a drag from your cigarette – snatched from Richie’s pack – and let your head fall back against the wall.

Richie looks sidelong at you, the smoke from his own cigarette a cloud illuminated by the lights from the kitchen behind, “Was just some fuckin sauce..”

“I know..”

“Guy was being a dickhead..”

“He called me a stupid bitch..”

Richie holds out his hands placatingly, “All I’m sayin is, it wasn’t a big deal.”

“Yeah, well all I know is that I’m going to be lying in bed in a couple of hours playing it over and over..” you take another drag, “fuck, I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

Richie is struggling against an image of you tossing and turning in bed, he clears his throat, “I get nights like that.” Shit. Why did he say that.

You turn to face him, shift a little closer, “You do?”

Richie nods as he stubs out his cigarette and tosses it into the makeshift trash can by the door.

“And what do you do about it?”

“I don’t..”

“Do you ever think it would be easier if you had someone..”

“No.”

“But you’re on your own too, right?” You reach out, smoothing your fingertips down his tie.

“Don’t.” Richie’s jaw clenches. His conscience doesn’t like where this is going. His dick hasn’t got the message.

“You could help me switch all this noise off..” you wind the silky fabric through your fingers.

Richie sighs heavily, plucks your hand from his body, “It’s not a good idea.”

“It’s not?”

“I’m old enough to be your..”

“Daddy?”

Jesus Christ. “Fuckin.. no, that’s not what I was gonna say..” Richie can feel the colour rising in his cheeks, “look you’re too young, y’know. You can’t take a fuckin joke.”

“That guy tonight, that was a joke to you?” You look at him incredulously.

“No..” Richie shrugs, “but if you were a little more mature maybe it wouldn’t seem like such a big deal.”

“So I’m immature now?” You fold your arms over your chest. “Fuck, Richie. Why don’t you say what you really think.”

Richie opens his mouth to reply, but thinks better of it. Stuffs his tongue in his cheek and stays quiet.

You wipe your eyes with your hand. Hot tears have been threatening to fall for half your shift, but you’re not going to give him the satisfaction. Fucking asshole. You push off the wall and head back inside without another word.

Richie pulls another cigarette from his pack as he watches you walk back into the kitchen. By the time the stub has joined the others in the bucket, you’re long gone.

...

Richie winces, his back still turned, "Nothin, cus, I swear to god.."

Back in the kitchen, Carmy is pissed, Richie can hear it in the fast approaching footsteps as he washes his hands.

"What did you do to her?"

"Just fuckin fix it, alright?"

"It's late though, I should.."

"Go." Carmy jabs his finger toward the door, "she doesn't show tomorrow, that's on you."

"Jeez.. fuck, cousin, alright.." Richie roots in his pocket for his car keys, "I'll go check on her."

..

Richie measures up to himself in the rearview mirror. He’s not going to do this. You’re too young, too soft. Maybe, maybe if you were just a little older, or if he was a little younger.. But you’d been upset and he’d made it worse. All he’s going to do is check that you’re okay. Apologise. Be professional.

He tells himself these lies while he’s parked outside your building. Guilt is burning a hole in his chest, but when he closes his eyes all he feels is the heat of your hand on his chest and all he hears is daddy.

...

You sit on your couch trying to will yourself up and into bed. It’s been a long day.

Stupid bitch. That had been what the guy had called you. Stupid bitch. Over what? Some spilt sauce. Another day, another asshole, but the anxiety that had risen in your belly was yet to fade away, and you find yourself predictably replaying the altercation in your head. And then there was that thing with Richie.

Richie. Fuck. You’d made such a fool of yourself. Daddy? For fucks sake. What were you thinking. You know what he must think. That you’re pathetic, a kid - he’d basically said as much, that you must be mad if you think he would ever.. You just want it to stop. For your brain to be quiet.

The buzzer sounds, breaking the silence of your apartment and the din of your thoughts.

You’re debating whether to answer when it sounds again. Longer this time, an angry intrusion. You pad over to the door, and warily press the button.

“Hello?”

“Uhh.. yo, sorry.. it’s..”

“Richie?!” Your voice is a squeak.

“Yeah, it’s Richie, I..”

“Come up.”

...

A minute later, Richie is leaning against your doorframe.

“I was just thinking about you actually.” You hope your voice doesn’t betray the weakness in your knees or the sudden dryness of your mouth.

“That right?”

“I was worried you’d think I was stupid.. for earlier.”

“I don’t think that.” Richie rubs a hand over the back of his neck, “Just wanted to check you were okay..”

Oh. Of course. “M’fine.”

“..That guy was pretty rough on you.. and I probably made things worse, so..”

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that too.”

“There you go with that thinkin again.” He looks at you, on the brink of cementing the bad decision he made when he pulled up in your lot.

“It’s a problem.” You stare back at him, heart in your throat.

The silence stretches between you where the air has grown thick. He can’t help but look at your bare legs, the t-shirt skimming the top of your thighs, can’t help but imagine what might be underneath. You’d probably been on your way to bed. He should leave - you said it yourself, you’re fine - but he doesn’t. He licks his lips, watches your eyes follow the movement, same as you had seen his eyes drag up your legs.

Pushing off the doorframe, he leaves his conscience in the hallway and shifts toward you, “You still want some help with that?”

“Y-yes.” You think your knees might give out.

“Yes, what? Hmm?”

Oh fuck. You know what he wants. You take a shaky breath and your tongue darts out to wet your lips, “Yes, please.. daddy.”

The door slams shut behind him and he steps into your space. Richie’s presence has sucked all the air out of the room and sweat is pricking at your skin.

“You sure bout this?” His eyes are searching yours.

You nod, and raise your hand to push your fingers across the scruff on his jaw. It’s softer than you had imagined. That thought is still drifting through your mind when his lips meet yours. That too is soft, at first. But then he squeezes the back of your neck and holds you tight, parting your lips with his tongue and stealing your breath. It’s insistent. It makes your head spin. He’s taking what he wants and it blurs your edges.

He pulls back a little, breathing heavily, hooks a finger into the neck of your shirt and tugs, “Take it off.”

You hesitate, dazed, smoothing the hem in your hands.

“I said take it off.”

His voice burns along your veins. You do as he says, pulling the old tee up and over your head.

Standing before him in your underwear you’re acutely aware that he’s still dressed. Shirt and suit pants still sharp. Only the tie is gone, replaced with the gold of his chain shining against his skin where his collar is open. It makes your mouth water. It makes you want to run. It makes you want to fall to your knees and beg.

Richie reaches out, brushes the back of his knuckles over the curve of your bare breast, “Real pretty.”

His touch leaves a shiver in its wake, and you fight the urge to close your eyes. Then his hands are at your waist, backing you into your couch until you fall clumsily into the plush cushions. Splayed over the couch, he stands above you. He looks so big like this, and your heart hammers against your ribs when he drops to his knees.

...

The shirt feels cool where his shoulders are pressed between your spread knees. Hot breath fans over your skin in the moment before he presses his mouth to your inner thigh, teeth sinking into the softness there, his tongue easing the sting. Your underwear is sticky with arousal, the little wet patch spreading under his gaze.

Richie nudges his nose along the seam of your pussy, making your stomach clench and your face burn with something like shame. Your instinct is to squirm away, but he has you held fast, his shirtsleeves pushed up and his arms wrapped around your thighs. Then his tongue follows the path of his nose, his spit mixing with your slick soaking your underwear and leaving it clinging to your puffy cunt. When he pulls away, you whine, hips lifting from the couch, seeking out his mouth again.

“Goddamn, so fuckin needy, huh..”

You look at him, too dazed to form a reply.

“Words, princess.”

“I.. I..” you clam up, your mouth drying out, unsure what to say.

“What do you want hmm?” He looks up at you, grazes his mouth over where your clit is throbbing beneath your underwear, “This?”

“Fuck.. daddy, yes..” your ribs heave as his fingers hook into your underwear and begin to tug them down, “I want you to eat it.”

Jesus fucking Christ. Richie’s pulse pounds in his ears as he gets his first proper taste of you, his tongue making a lazy trail from your hole to your clit. You’re silky and saline sweet on his lips. It makes him hungry, makes him want more. He holds you open, fingers digging into your thighs, and pushes his tongue into your pussy. It’s open mouthed and messy. So close to being consumed that the line between where you end and he begins is lost.

The line swims back into sharp focus when he replaces his tongue with his fingers, sinking them to the knuckle, his wedding ring snug against you. He curls his fingers, stroking and teasing a spot that has you dripping down his palm as his tongue swirls over your clit, working you until his jaw aches. And when he drives his fingers into you again he knows you’re close, knows you’re going to burst on his tongue, and the thought has him hard and straining the zipper of his suit pants.

Your fingers scramble for something to ground you before it overwhelms you. The couch cushions slip under your grasp, then your hands find his head where it is dipped between your thighs and you push your fingertips through his hair. Pressing him down even as every muscle in your body winds tight, hips canting up against his hot, wet mouth. And oh fuck.. oh fuck.. “oh fuck.. I’m gonna come.. I’m gonna..”

It rolls through you as your words fall away, replaced by gasps and cries, and Richie swallows you down.

...

He has you pressed into the mattress, his mouth on yours, his body sinking into the cradle of your spread thighs, teasing, barely there thrusts that have his cock sliding against you, nudging inside. And fuck you need more, try to rock your hips up, try to get him deeper, but you’re pinned beneath him.

“Please.. Richie.. Please..”

He shakes his head and you realise your mistake, but not before his teeth dig into your bottom lip making you hiss. Shit.

You chase the sting away with your tongue, “M'sorry.. Daddy..”

The word hangs in the sliver of space between his mouth and yours, swirling with your breath in the moment before he kisses you again. Richie rolls his hips as he licks into your mouth, cock sinking into you another inch, “S’this what you want?”

“Yes..” your voice turns to a cry as he pulls out and then fucks into you hard, filling you up.

His hands slide up your thighs and press your knees back against your chest and he drives into you again, pushing the air from your lungs and every thought from your mind except more. And maybe he can see what’s in your head, or maybe you said it aloud, but it’s punishing, it’s rough, it’s so, so good you could cry.

“Doin so well for me, baby.” Richie’s voice is soothing even as he bruises your hips with his fingers, tugging you against him. “Gettin so wet for me.”

Heat flashes over your face. You can hear it with the wet slap of his skin against yours. You can feel it every time he fucks into you, winding you tighter each time. Hot, slippery pressure on the brink of overflowing.

“That’s it..” he snaps his hips mean and hard, “I got you..”

There’s sweat gathering on your brow and in the small of your back, tears stinging at your eyes. And he’s grinding into you now. Has found your edge and is pushing you over, sending you into freefall.

Richie can’t take his eyes off you as you fall apart. So fuckin beautiful. His hand finds the hot skin of your cheek, lingering there, thumb at the corner of your mouth. He nearly loses control when your tongue dips out to lick at him. You’re ruined and achingly perfect, and the fucked out little whimpers he’s still pushing from you have him on the edge of a precipice, sparks building at the base of his spine, his dick throbbing inside you, so close, he’s gonna..

“Christ.. sweetheart.. where?”

You’re lost to his words, seeking out any parts of his hand you can reach with your mouth, sucking and..

“Fuckin..” Richie smacks your cheek, and the urgency in his voice brings your gaze to his, “where?”

“In my mouth.. please, I wanna..”

The words have barely left your lips and he’s hauling you up to sit, crowding you against the headboard. His knees sink into the mattress either side of your chest, and he slides his fist over his cock, shiny slick from your pussy, so close that when you push your tongue out, you can swipe it through the precome that beads on each upward stroke.

That’s his undoing. The first touch of your wet tongue. His hips stutter as he pushes his dick into your mouth with a grunt. You open up wide around him to take him to as far as you can, sucking in a breath through your nose before letting him sink in another inch.

Hard and heavy on your tongue, nudging at the back of your throat, there’s a moment of absolute crystalline bliss, everything else melting away. Then he wraps his hand around the base of your skull, and you suck and swallow around him. Watching through the tears trembling on your lashes as his body tenses, the muscles of his belly taut with it in the second before the first hot rush hits your tongue.

...

“How’s that brain of yours?” Richie is sprawled over your bed. Long limbs tangled in your sheets.

“I think it melted..” you sigh, settling your head onto his chest.

“That’s good right?”

“Mmmhmm.. will you..” you stifle a yawn, “will you stay?”

“Y’know Carmen’s gonna fuckin kill me if he finds out bout this?” Richie’s voice is sleepy.

“I know..” you twist his chain in your fingers, “and don’t forget Chef Syd..”

“Fuck.. you got me in some trouble, kid.”

“So.. will you stay?”

“Y’want me to?” He props himself up on his elbow to look you in the eye.

“Yeah..”

“Then yeah, yeah I can stay.” He pulls you toward him and holds you close, “If that’s what you need.”

#kdogreads later #richie jerimovich #richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich smut

[kdogreads]

Prompt #36 with Dieter or Ezra? 👀

Hi, my friend! I'm sorry this took a hot minute, but I hope you'll be happy with the result!

Better

Pairing: Ezra x f!reader

Word count: 2k

Tags/warnings: extreme overstimulation, sub reader, use of toys, orgasm control, light bdsm, restraints, tears, piv sex, subspace/disorientation, Ezra being Ezra and saying Ezra things

Summary: You join Ezra on his unscheduled break, not knowing you're in for the ride of your lifetime

*****

“Ez?” 

You walk into your shared tent, confused as to why he’d suddenly abandoned you in the middle of your excursion. The two of you were almost ready to pack up anyway, but you thought the plan was to wait it out until the day was up. 

You come in to find him lounging on the bunk, spread out on his back with exhaustion. He’s breathing unnecessarily heavily, so much so that you would probably be worried if it was anyone other than Ezra. Sure, it’s hot outside, but not enough to entail that. So dramatic. 

“Ez, what the fuck are you doing?” 

His head snaps up this time, like he’s surprised to see you there. That’s when you notice that he has one hand down his pants. 

“Ez!” you gape. “Serously, what the fuck?”

“Sorry, little dove,” he pants, not caring to stop the jerking motions. “I thought I was strong enough to resist the temptation, but alas…” 

“Dude, we had like an hour left, you couldn’t have waited?” 

He just licks his lips in answer. “Well, now that you’re in here, you may as well strip and join me.” 

You sigh and plant your hands on your hips. He can be so damn unserious sometimes. He’s lucky he’s hot as hell despite everything else. 

“Fine,” you grumble and reach to unbutton your pants. You can’t really deny the way your panties started to grow wet the second you realized what he was up to. 

He watches you with a heavy gaze as you discard your clothes to the floor and walk toward him. He’s done the same, pulled all of his clothes off so that you’re both naked as he grabs you to lay you on the cot. You catch a peek of his stiff cock, already leaking and flushed from his playing. 

He immediately settles over you and flashes you a smirk as his hand trails down to cup your mound. You moan when he collects some of your slick and then starts to circle your clit, your arms coming up to wrap around him. 

“I know, flower. Feels good, doesn’t it?” 

You nod at him, burrowing your head in his chest as he works your clit. Your body begins to tremble and tense in anticipation, toes curling into the sheets below you. 

You claw at his back as you come, moaning as he works you through it. He doesn’t let up when you’re done though, instead inserting two fingers into your soaked cunt. You gasp at the feeling and clench around him.

He starts to pump, watching your face as it contorts with pleasure every time he hooks his fingers to find the spot that makes you crazy. 

“Does that feel good, sweet thing?” 

“Mhm,” you whine, trying your best to focus on the glide of his thick fingers and the way his thumb comes up to flick your swollen clit. You know it’s not going to be long before your second orgasm takes over. 

He suddenly starts to go faster, using his whole arm to finger you at a furious pace, his hand turning so that his palm slaps your clit with each bruising thrust. You gasp and clutch onto him, moans spilling freely from your lips. He starts to mix another movement in, too, shoving his hand up and down and side to side in addition to deep and fucking deeper.

His name is on your lips as you come, an explosion going through your body and making you go weak. Your thighs shake and your ears ring with the force of it all. He doesn’t even slow as you go through it, just whispers filthy praise into your ear as he pulls more and more until there’s a third orgasm meshing with the other two. He slips another finger in and uses his other hand to press on your abdomen. 

You’re practically screaming at this point, your body writing beneath him as it tries to escape the constant pressure he keeps on your cunt. It’s so overwhelming and you’re already so overstimulated. Your body is covered in sweat, as is his from his rough movement. 

“Take my fingers so good, little bird. Almost as good as you take my cock” 

You keen up to him, your back arching as you look into his eyes and plead for him to stop that way since your words aren’t going to work any time soon. He smiles faintly and takes pity on you, slowly retracting his fingers. A squelching sound comes from where he disconnects, an obscene amount of wetness seeping out of your cunt. 

“Look at her, she’s so hungry for it,” Ezra observes as he watches your hole clench. 

You just pant, feeling thoroughly exhausted already. But you know you’re not done yet. Ezra hasn’t come, and there’s no stopping until he does. You’re about to offer to suck him off to save your poor, throbbing pussy when he speaks again. 

“Go get one of your toys, little dove. Let’s make this even better.” 

You nod at him, sliding out from under his body in a haze. Despite being so over-sensitive already, you trust him to make it good for you. You walk to your trunk and pull it open, digging around for a moment until you get a grasp on your favorite wand. It’s battery powered and relatively strong. 

Ezra cranes his neck to see what you selected and smiles as you turn around with it. 

“Good choice, little dove. I like that one, too.” 

Then his face lights up in a way that makes you want to bury the vibrator back where you found it. His eyes darken as he reaches his hand out for the toy. Maybe it’s the way your brain has already turned to mush, but you still hand it to him and obey him as he helps you back down. 

“On your back and spread those pretty legs, little flower.”

You do so, but not without questioning him as he starts to dig through his own trunk. “Wha–” 

“Don’t worry, dove. Just lay there and look pretty for me.” 

You lay your head back down on the cot, figuring you might as well save your energy for whatever the hell he’s about to do. You know well enough that when he gets into these moods, there’s no changing his mind. 

But you quickly snap your head back up when you hear a tearing sound. 

“Ez?” 

He looks away from the roll of tape in his hands to see your confused face. 

“Yes, bird?” 

“W-What are you doing?” 

He just grins and walks back to you, ripping the tape further from the roll.

“Legs open,” he instructs, completely ignoring your question. Your eyes widen in realization as he kneels between them and brings your wand up to the inside of your thigh, the tip of it facing your soaked pussy. He pushes your legs open until they start to tremble again from the stretch. 

“Ez…” 

He ignores you again as he keeps the toy lined up and then starts to secure it with the tape. It’s close enough so that if you closed your legs even the slightest bit, the tip would be right on your clit. Your cunt throbs at the idea. And when he reaches up to tie your hands together and leave you defenseless, you let out a moan. 

“Dirty little thing,” Ezra chuckles. “Knew you’d like this.” 

He lowers himself back down and lets your legs lay comfortably without his hips holding them open, the ball of the vibrator resting against your clit. You shiver at the contact, goosebumps popping up in anticipation. 

He watches your face carefully as he reaches for it and presses a button to turn it on. Your entire body jolts at the constant pressure that immediately starts to hit your clit. You whine loudly, squirming and trying to get away from the harsh vibrations. 

“Ez!” you squeal. “‘S too much!” 

“Aw, I think you can take it, little gem. Look at your sweet cunt, already crying for more,” he coos at you, doing nothing to stop it. 

You shake your head wildly as your orgasm starts to build. It’s borderline painful, your body still wiggling and trying everything it can to escape, but you’re trapped. Every time you move your legs to get away, you just press down harder on your clit. You yelp and writhe, even knowing that you’re going to get nowhere that way. 

You’re coming in no time, screaming as the vibrator stays on through the whole thing. Ezra just chuckles to himself as you whine and shake, your brain turning to mush as your ears ring. Everything feels like too much right now. Not just the vibrations between your legs, but also the light coming from the single bulb in the tent, the way the sheets beneath you cling to your sweaty skin, the way the tape around your wrists feels a little too hot. 

You feel for a second like you might pass out, the toy still going even after your orgasm subsides. But then Ezra must turn it off because you’re suddenly coming back down to earth, your panting breaths loud in your own ears. Your entire body sags with relief. 

You barely even register it as Ezra takes his spot back between your thighs, keeping you open for him with his thick waist as he starts to feed his throbbing cock into your soaked cunt. He groans above you as he practically slips right in without any kind of resistance. You moan sharply, your hands fisting air above your head as you take him. 

“Such a good gem,” Ezra whispers to you once he’s fully seated. You can’t even say anything back at this point, far too wrung out to think coherently, much less actually speak. You just  lay there, letting him slowly start thrusting into you. 

You close your eyes, content to just let him find his end. And then you fucking scream again. Everything goes white and your body jolts as he slams hard into you and turns the toy back on at the same time. Tears immediately jump to your eyes as he picks up a brutal pace and holds your thigh at just the perfect spot for that stupid vibrator to have the biggest effect. 

You openly sob as you come again, completely taken by surprise this time. Ezra groans louder, gripping you hard as he pummels his cock into your g-spot. Your tears stream down your cheeks and down your neck, into your hairline, into your ears. 

“Sweet little cunt you have, birdy. Squeezing me so tight.” 

You try to call his name, but it just comes out garbled and pathetic. You’ve never felt this overstimulated in your life, like you’re unable to really comprehend it all. 

“I know, darling thing. You’ll be okay,” he assures you as he puts a hand up to smooth down your sweat-dampened hair.

Finally, his pace starts to stutter and his groans grow louder and more uncontrolled. You’re lost in another wave of painful pleasure when he spills deep inside of you, twitching and making you cry out. He thrusts shallowly, not worried about anything but drawing his own orgasm out. 

“There you go, take it all for me. Just like that.” He leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips. 

He doesn’t wait long after until he turns the vibrator off again, and this time you really do find that you can’t open your eyes. You don’t think you’ve ever been this exhausted in your life. Your cunt throbs and aches, your head pounds, and your body feels like it was hit by a truck as it shakes and trembles, numb in some places. You’re disoriented, not entirely sure where you are or how you got there. 

You just know that you’re soaked all over and in desperate need of sleep. It comes easy with the help of Ezra’s hand petting your hair and his soft chuckle coming from somewhere around you. You don’t bother to try opening your eyes again, you know that he’ll take care of you as long as he’s around. 

*****

Look here if you would like to read more requested fics or request one of your own!

#kdogreads later #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal characters

[kdogreads]

Logical

Will Richie help Reader switch off, or will his conscience get in the way?

MDNI NSFW 18+ only please.

Based on a lovely prompt from Erica @diorrfairy and an anon request. This is daddy!Richie x younger!reader.

Warnings: Reader calls Richie daddy, unprotected PIV, oral F and M receiving. Reader is female and in her twenties. No other physical descriptions.

Approx 2.6k

...

“I just wish I could switch off..” you take a drag from your cigarette – snatched from Richie’s pack – and let your head fall back against the wall.

Richie looks sidelong at you, the smoke from his own cigarette a cloud illuminated by the lights from the kitchen behind, “Was just some fuckin sauce..”

“I know..”

“Guy was being a dickhead..”

“He called me a stupid bitch..”

Richie holds out his hands placatingly, “All I’m sayin is, it wasn’t a big deal.”

“Yeah, well all I know is that I’m going to be lying in bed in a couple of hours playing it over and over..” you take another drag, “fuck, I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

Richie is struggling against an image of you tossing and turning in bed, he clears his throat, “I get nights like that.” Shit. Why did he say that.

You turn to face him, shift a little closer, “You do?”

Richie nods as he stubs out his cigarette and tosses it into the makeshift trash can by the door.

“And what do you do about it?”

“I don’t..”

“Do you ever think it would be easier if you had someone..”

“No.”

“But you’re on your own too, right?” You reach out, smoothing your fingertips down his tie.

“Don’t.” Richie’s jaw clenches. His conscience doesn’t like where this is going. His dick hasn’t got the message.

“You could help me switch all this noise off..” you wind the silky fabric through your fingers.

Richie sighs heavily, plucks your hand from his body, “It’s not a good idea.”

“It’s not?”

“I’m old enough to be your..”

“Daddy?”

Jesus Christ. “Fuckin.. no, that’s not what I was gonna say..” Richie can feel the colour rising in his cheeks, “look you’re too young, y’know. You can’t take a fuckin joke.”

“That guy tonight, that was a joke to you?” You look at him incredulously.

“No..” Richie shrugs, “but if you were a little more mature maybe it wouldn’t seem like such a big deal.”

“So I’m immature now?” You fold your arms over your chest. “Fuck, Richie. Why don’t you say what you really think.”

Richie opens his mouth to reply, but thinks better of it. Stuffs his tongue in his cheek and stays quiet.

You wipe your eyes with your hand. Hot tears have been threatening to fall for half your shift, but you’re not going to give him the satisfaction. Fucking asshole. You push off the wall and head back inside without another word.

Richie pulls another cigarette from his pack as he watches you walk back into the kitchen. By the time the stub has joined the others in the bucket, you’re long gone.

...

Richie measures up to himself in the rearview mirror. He’s not going to do this. You’re too young, too soft. Maybe, maybe if you were just a little older, or if he was a little younger.. But you’d been upset and he’d made it worse. All he’s going to do is check that you’re okay. It’s what anyone would do in his situation.

He tells himself these lies while he’s parked outside your building. Guilt is burning a hole in his chest, but when he closes his eyes all he feels is the heat of your hand on his chest and all he hears is daddy.

...

You sit on your couch trying to will yourself up and into bed. It’s been a long day.

Stupid bitch. That had been what the guy had called you. Stupid bitch. Over what? Some spilt sauce. Another day, another asshole, but the anxiety that had risen in your belly was yet to fade away, and you find yourself predictably replaying the altercation in your head. And then there was that thing with Richie.

Richie. Fuck. You’d made such a fool of yourself. Daddy? For fucks sake. What were you thinking. You know what he must think. That you’re pathetic, a kid - he’d basically said as much, that you must be mad if you think he would ever.. You just want it to stop. For your brain to be quiet.

The buzzer sounds, breaking the silence of your apartment and the din of your thoughts.

You’re debating whether to answer when it sounds again. Longer this time, an angry intrusion. You pad over to the door, and warily press the button.

“Hello?”

“Uhh.. yo, sorry.. it’s..”

“Richie?!” Your voice is a squeak.

“Yeah, it’s Richie, I..”

“Come up.”

...

A minute later, Richie is leaning against your doorframe.

“I was just thinking about you actually.” You hope your voice doesn’t betray the weakness in your knees or the sudden dryness of your mouth.

“That right?”

“I was worried you’d think I was stupid.. for earlier.”

“I don’t think that.” Richie rubs a hand over the back of his neck, “Just wanted to check you were okay..”

Oh. Of course. “M’fine.”

“..That guy was pretty rough on you.. and I probably made things worse, so..”

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that too.”

“There you go with that thinkin again.” He looks at you, on the brink of cementing the bad decision he made when he pulled up in your lot.

“It’s a problem.” You stare back at him, heart in your throat.

The silence stretches between you where the air has grown thick. He can’t help but look at your bare legs, the t-shirt skimming the top of your thighs, can’t help but imagine what might be underneath. You’d probably been on your way to bed. He should leave - you said it yourself, you’re fine - but he doesn’t. He licks his lips, watches your eyes follow the movement, same as you had seen his eyes drag up your legs.

Pushing off the doorframe, he leaves his conscience in the hallway and shifts toward you, “You still want some help with that?”

“Y-yes.” You think your knees might give out.

“Yes, what? Hmm?”

Oh fuck. You know what he wants. You take a shaky breath and your tongue darts out to wet your lips, “Yes, please.. daddy.”

The door slams shut behind him and he steps into your space. Richie’s presence has sucked all the air out of the room and sweat is pricking at your skin.

“You sure bout this?” His eyes are searching yours.

You nod, and raise your hand to push your fingers across the scruff on his jaw. It’s softer than you had imagined. That thought is still drifting through your mind when his lips meet yours. That too is soft, at first. But then he squeezes the back of your neck and holds you tight, parting your lips with his tongue and stealing your breath. It’s insistent. It makes your head spin. He’s taking what he wants and it blurs your edges.

He pulls back a little, breathing heavily, hooks a finger into the neck of your shirt and tugs, “Take it off.”

You hesitate, dazed, smoothing the hem in your hands.

“I said take it off.”

His voice burns along your veins. You do as he says, pulling the old tee up and over your head.

Standing before him in your underwear you’re acutely aware that he’s still dressed. Shirt and suit pants still sharp. Only the tie is gone, replaced with the gold of his chain shining against his skin where his collar is open. It makes your mouth water. It makes you want to run. It makes you want to fall to your knees and beg.

Richie reaches out, brushes the back of his knuckles over the curve of your bare breast, “Real pretty.”

His touch leaves a shiver in its wake, and you fight the urge to close your eyes. Then his hands are at your waist, backing you into your couch until you fall clumsily into the plush cushions. Splayed over the couch, he stands above you. He looks so big like this, and your heart hammers against your ribs when he drops to his knees.

...

“Goddamn, so fuckin needy, huh..”

The shirt feels cool where his shoulders are pressed between your spread knees. Hot breath fans over your skin in the moment before he presses his mouth to your inner thigh, teeth sinking into the softness there, his tongue easing the sting. Your underwear is sticky with arousal, the little wet patch spreading under his gaze.

Richie nudges his nose along the seam of your pussy, making your stomach clench and your face burn with something like shame. Your instinct is to squirm away, but he has you held fast, his shirtsleeves pushed up and his arms wrapped around your thighs. Then his tongue follows the path of his nose, his spit mixing with your slick soaking your underwear and leaving it clinging to your puffy cunt. When he pulls away, you whine, hips lifting from the couch, seeking out his mouth again.

You look at him, too dazed to form a reply.

“Words, princess.”

“I.. I..” you clam up, your mouth drying out, unsure what to say.

“What do you want hmm?” He looks up at you, grazes his mouth over where your clit is throbbing beneath your underwear, “This?”

“Fuck.. daddy, yes..” your ribs heave as his fingers hook into your underwear and begin to tug them down, “I want you to eat it.”

Jesus fucking Christ. Richie’s pulse pounds in his ears as he gets his first proper taste of you, his tongue making a lazy trail from your hole to your clit. You’re silky and saline sweet on his lips. It makes him hungry, makes him want more. He holds you open, fingers digging into your thighs, and pushes his tongue into your pussy. It’s open mouthed and messy. So close to being consumed that the line between where you end and he begins is lost.

The line swims back into sharp focus when he replaces his tongue with his fingers, sinking them to the knuckle, his wedding ring snug against you. He curls his fingers, stroking and teasing a spot that has you dripping down his palm as his tongue swirls over your clit, working you until his jaw aches. And when he drives his fingers into you again he knows you’re close, knows you’re going to burst on his tongue, and the thought has him hard and straining the zipper of his suit pants.

Your fingers scramble for something to ground you before it overwhelms you. The couch cushions slip under your grasp, then your hands find his head where it is dipped between your thighs and you push your fingertips through his hair. Pressing him down even as every muscle in your body winds tight, hips canting up against his hot, wet mouth. And oh fuck.. oh fuck.. “oh fuck.. I’m gonna come.. I’m gonna..”

It rolls through you as your words fall away, replaced by gasps and cries, and Richie swallows you down.

...

He has you pressed into the mattress, his mouth on yours, his body sinking into the cradle of your spread thighs, teasing, barely there thrusts that have his cock sliding against you, nudging inside. And fuck you need more, try to rock your hips up, try to get him deeper, but you’re pinned beneath him.

“Please.. Richie.. Please..”

He shakes his head and you realise your mistake, but not before his teeth dig into your bottom lip making you hiss. Shit.

You chase the sting away with your tongue, “M'sorry.. Daddy..”

The word hangs in the sliver of space between his mouth and yours, swirling with your breath in the moment before he kisses you again. Richie rolls his hips as he licks into your mouth, cock sinking into you another inch, “S’this what you want?”

“Yes..” your voice turns to a cry as he pulls out and then fucks into you hard, filling you up.

His hands slide up your thighs and press your knees back against your chest and he drives into you again, pushing the air from your lungs and every thought from your mind except more. And maybe he can see what’s in your head, or maybe you said it aloud, but it’s punishing, it’s rough, it’s so, so good you could cry.

“Doin so well for me, baby.” Richie’s voice is soothing even as he bruises your hips with his fingers, tugging you against him. “Gettin so wet for me.”

Heat flashes over your face. You can hear it with the wet slap of his skin against yours. You can feel it every time he fucks into you, winding you tighter each time. Hot, slippery pressure on the brink of overflowing.

“That’s it..” he snaps his hips mean and hard, “I got you..”

There’s sweat gathering on your brow and in the small of your back, tears stinging at your eyes. And he’s grinding into you now. Has found your edge and is pushing you over, sending you into freefall.

Richie can’t take his eyes off you as you fall apart. So fuckin beautiful. His hand finds the hot skin of your cheek, lingering there, thumb at the corner of your mouth. He nearly loses control when your tongue dips out to lick at him. You’re ruined and achingly perfect, and the fucked out little whimpers he’s still pushing from you have him on the edge of a precipice, sparks building at the base of his spine, his dick throbbing inside you, so close, he’s gonna..

“Christ.. sweetheart.. where?”

You’re lost to his words, seeking out any parts of his hand you can reach with your mouth, sucking and..

“Fuckin..” Richie smacks your cheek, and the urgency in his voice brings your gaze to his, “where?”

“In my mouth.. please, I wanna..”

The words have barely left your lips and he’s hauling you up to sit, crowding you against the headboard. His knees sink into the mattress either side of your chest, and he slides his fist over his cock, shiny slick from your pussy, so close that when you push your tongue out, you can swipe it through the precome that beads on each upward stroke.

That’s his undoing. The first touch of your wet tongue. His hips stutter as he pushes his dick into your mouth with a grunt. You open up wide around him to take him to as far as you can, sucking in a breath through your nose before letting him sink in another inch.

Hard and heavy on your tongue, nudging at the back of your throat, there’s a moment of absolute crystalline bliss, everything else melting away. Then he wraps his hand around the base of your skull, and you suck and swallow around him. Watching through the tears trembling on your lashes as his body tenses, the muscles of his belly taut with it in the second before the first hot rush hits your tongue.

...

“How’s that brain of yours?” Richie is sprawled over your bed. Long limbs tangled in your sheets.

“I think it melted..” you sigh, settling your head onto his chest.

“That’s good right?”

“Mmmhmm.. will you..” you stifle a yawn, “will you stay?”

“Y’know Carmen’s gonna fuckin kill me if he finds out bout this?” Richie’s voice is sleepy.

“I know..” you twist his chain in your fingers, “and don’t forget Chef Syd..”

“Fuck.. you got me in some trouble y’know that, kid.”

“So.. will you stay?”

“Y’want me to?” He props himself up on his elbow to look you in the eye.

“Yeah..”

“Then yeah, yeah I can stay.” He pulls you toward him and holds you close, “If that’s what you need.”

#IM PUMPED #YES PLEASE #richie jerimovich #richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich smut

[kdogreads]

Love is an Unfamiliar Name - MasterList

You’re a sucessful and methodic award winner music composer and producer, that after working on a few movies got invited to coordinate the sound department on a TV series, by your busy and controlled schedule, it will be just another project on your portifolio… but life sometimes has a funny way to surprise you.

A/N: Reader is somewhere in her 30s, No use of Y/N, no physical description (that i can remember)

Btw i just added a playlist with the songs that served as inspiration (in cronological order)

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x f!reader

> Spotify Playlist <

Series Chapters:

Pt. 1 - Dinner

Pt. 2 - Snacks

Pt. 3 - Inmsonia

Pt. 4 - …That is Jupiter

Pt. 5 - Que sera sera (+18)

Pt. 6 - Stay (+18)

Pt. 7 - Fear (Of the Unknown)

Pt. 8 - The Irishman

Pt. 9 - Home (Final Chapter)

One-Shots (can be read on it’s own without following the chapters):

Echoplex (+18)

Don’t Change

#kdogreads later #pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x f!reader #pedro pascal x female reader

[kdogreads]

MASTERLIST : PEAKY BLINDERS

Main Masterlist here.

Notice: This will be updated once every new post is posted. Last Update: 4/9/2024

THOMAS "TOMMY" SHELBY ★ Attention - smut ↳ You're a jazz singer and you were invited to Tommy's brother's wedding and you caught his attention. ★ A Peaky Blinder - fluff ↳ You encountering an assaulter while drinking on the Garrison pub. ★ Fainting - angst & fluff ↳ How they react when you faint. ★ Protection - angst & fluff ↳ You were protecting your son, Charlie when Billy Kimber's men ambushed your shared home.

JOHN SHELBY ★ Defense - angst & fluff ↳ Defending John during the ambush of Changretta's men in your home.  ★ A Peaky Blinder - fluff ↳ You encountering an assaulter while drinking on the Garrison pub. ★ Fainting - angst & fluff ↳ How they react when you faint.

ARTHUR SHELBY ★ A Peaky Blinder - fluff ↳ You encountering an assaulter while drinking on the Garrison pub. ★ Fainting - angst & fluff ↳ How they react when you faint.

MICHAEL GRAY ★ Dirty Little Thoughts - smut ↳ You and Michael can't control thinking about all the dirtiest thoughts you can think of each other.

#kdogreads later #cillian murphy smut #arthur shelby x reader #john shelby x reader #michael gray x reader

[kdogreads]

Live a Little, Give a Little ... More [Part 2]

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Live a Little Give a Little part 1

Summary: you've got one last stunt in you before you retire to have your baby--will your mystery Baby Daddy make a final appearance?

Warnings: Breeding kink, pregnancy, exhibition, groping, public sex, public teasing, dub con, manhandling, rape-esc situation that may be triggering, unprotected sex, creampie.

18+ ONLY

- - - -

You keep waving to your camera even after it clicks off and stops recording. Leaning back in your streaming chair, you close your eyes. 

Well, you did exactly what you set out to do: gained a shit ton of views and earned a mega bonus from your subscribers, rating shooting up thanks to that little stunt you pulled a few months ago.

You peer down, drumming your fingers along the hefty bump that had grown in your belly since then. “Hope you’re a bit more responsible than me, kiddo,” you mumble, smiling softly as you stroke over with gentle fingers.

Getting pregnant was not exactly how you imagined achieving that feat.

In all honesty, the plan was never to fuck a stranger on a crowded train. You were on the pill, but STD and STIs were a thing, so the furthest you had genuinely planned with a few hand jobs and being groped by perverts. 

But the second you felt that man on you, felt his cock pulse in your legs, something else over took you. Your whole bodies shivers with excitement every time recalling that day. Trying to etch every single detail into your memory. His callused hands, the firm, broad chest and shoulders that easily could overpower you, his warm thick fingers dancing along your skin, the trace of his breath along the shell of your ear, each beautiful little grunt and groan echoing in your ear like a broken record. 

His massive fucking hung horse cock.

You’ve been fucked by big-dicked guys before. But to know how to use it so fucking well that you don’t need to be battered to a pulp just to feel it, is something that no man can compare to your handsome baby Daddy.

Slickness pools in your panties. At some point, your belly is going to be big enough that you won’t be able to touch yourself. But for now, as your hand dips into your underwear and gathers your arousal, you think about him. 

If he was here now, would he make you cum on his fingers before you could have his cock buried to the hilt in you? Tell you that you’re a naughty girl, so fertile and sweet for the taking? A cum hungry dumb slut who doesn’t know how to function without his seed filling her up at every conceivable moment. Make you watch yourself in the mirror cum like a whore from his touch as he promises to breed and brand you over and over again for the world to see. You bite your lips, feeling him hot on your skin, balls twitching with each pulse of his seed dumping safely into your waiting womb to take him.

The thoughts of the faceless, nameless man who impregnated you on a crowded train during rush hour brings you to orgasm much quicker than any toy or method you’ve tested. Your jaw drops in a silent scream, a slight grin tugging on your lips as you rub your pussy through her little quakes, desperate to feel complete again.

You come down from your high, sticky fingers tracing along your belly as you drift into your current situation, ironically brought on by your insatiable horny lust.

No, you didn’t intend to have sex with a stranger that day. And when you weighed the odds in the nano-second before he impaled you… I mean, even if you got an infection, so what, just this once? What OnlyFans streamer didn’t have a disease or two? (No, please don’t take that advice)

You got tested immediately afterwards, and thankfully everything else came back negative from your fun encounter.

It only took a few more weeks after that of peculiar symptoms to get tested for something else that, to you genuine surprise, was positive. 

The man must have super sperm to have blown past your supposedly unstoppable birth control, which hadn’t even failed you when you did that 5 creampie amateur gang bang porno last summer.  Maybe you were only an hour late in taking your dosage on time that one day, too drunk and more concerned about fingering him cum back into you, but still…

You went into shock for a solid week, not sure what to do. Sometimes even now you feel a little jolt in your tummy, and see your body changing, and it just keeps dawning on you that you’re actually about to have a whole ass child.

And you don’t know the father.

It’s both thrilling and horrifying shook up in a bottle of hormones and currently sitting on the edge of a cliff. You should scold yourself for how stupid you were, if only you actually regretted it.  Even if you’re about to be a single mother who cant explain a thing to your soon to be child about their daddy, you knew you were gonna love you baby. No doubts.

Besides, when you were more financially stable, you DID plan to have kids at some point. So what if it’s a little sooner than expected? Life is full of unexpected surprises! 

You decided after the baby is born, no more streaming. You were gonna get a more stable, (more cloth required) job and raise your precious kiddo on your own.

But a few teasing streams until then, just to milk those breeding, misogynistic, baby bump hungry men out there willing to throw money at you if you rubbed milk over your belly, would be worth those extra bucks before calling it quits altogether.

Still, it would be nice feel him just one more time…

-

Joel’s been watching your stream obsessively since that day you brazenly showed your pregnant belly to the world. He’s got notifications going off on his phone every time you upload something. 

Even with his cock in his hand, most of the time you just talk to your followers, answer their questions about your pregnancy so far, and about that day.

He sees the way your eyes glint, the corner of your lips curving into an unashamed smile as you retell details about him.

Sure, all the lonely fucks in the chat spam your inbox “that’s so hot”, “god I wish that were me,” “can I use your holes and breed you next? My bus departs in 30 mins ;)”

Honestly, who’s to say you aren’t pulling a total bluff? You’re a porn streamer; it’s your job to feed into men like his fantasies. Maybe you had fucked a dozen guys on the train that day, got pregnant from one of them, and only uploaded Joel’s session because it was the hottest? Maybe you were already pregnant, and you’re just spinning a scandalous story for your followers to hold on to? And who’s to say you don’t already have a cuck boyfriend or husband, who could have been filming or watching you two on the train that day from a different angle?

The thought of you belonging to another man, of the baby you “claim” to his being another’s makes his hand grip his cock tightly, teeth grinding down on one another while staring at your beautiful eyes and smile through the computer screen.

He drops a pool of spit on to his tip before sheathing it over with his hand, lubing his cock. You would usually end the stream with some tease:

“God, my breasts are just getting so sore,” you groan dramatically. You unbutton your blouse and reveal your naked cleavage. “Don’t even have any more bras because they’re getting so damn heavy!” You cup them and moan into the camera, relieving the ache while pinching your nipples. 

Joel licks his lips. He had gotten to know you (or the version of you on your stream) a lot more intimately thanks to discovering your blog. He spent hours studying every detail that he missed. Its one thing to have dumped his load into your exquisite pussy, but to be able to see your face, hear your unashamed moans, ogle your gorgeous breasts and body that he had been denied that day makes him yearn to have you one more time.

Your belly had grown just as quickly, drooping over your pelvis just a bit more than before. You’re not at full mast yet. He watches how you maneuver, maybe a little slower or more bulky than before. It fills him with pride, seeing how much you’re having to struggle with his child growing in you. At the very least, you can still reach to get a bulbous pink dildo in your cunt and flash the camera as you masturbate, crying out as you beg Daddy to breed you again.

Joel cups his balls with one hand while the other furiously works over his shaft. His stomach tenses, building towards his release with eyes transfixed on the way that little cunt still has enough room to fit that toy. He would know, you took him with very little prep. 

“That’s it baby, come on, Come for Daddy,” he groans.  Doesn’t care that he’s jerking off in a dark room by himself to a brightly lit screen of his baby momma that doesn’t even know him. Yet. 

You moan directly into the camera, mouth agape as you thrust the dildo in and out, hitting that sweet spot that has your eyes rolling. You spread your legs over the chair, and the skin strewn across your belly tightens as a gush of liquid squirts out of your pussy.

“Fuck Daddy, making my pussy squirt so fuckin good! M so full my cunt can’t hold all my naughty juices, too full with your cock and your cum and your baby!!”

Haggard groans rumble in his throat as his cock erupts into jets of white ribbons, shooting along the computer screen and covering your face as you smile and lick the dildo clean. He milks his sack of the last little spurts of cum before sighing and leaning back against the chair, dreaming about painting your womb white again with his next load. 

When you come down from your high, and the last of the generous tips come flowing in, you usually rub along your swollen tummy. Sometimes it’s subconscious, like you’re comforting your child, other times it’s for the show, twirling around and pushing it out to show everyone how big you’ve gotten. Your voice centers him back to reality.

“And before I forget, I have one final announcement: After our little baby is born, I will be retiring.” You smile softly, but there’s a sense of gratitude mixed with sadness. “I know! It’s been such a great journey, and I’ve never felt soooo good about something as amazing as this, and to share it all with you is more than I could have ever hoped. So as a final send off, I’m doing one last exhibition piece.”

Joel leans, ignoring the stain of his cum drying along his shirt and smudged into his laptop.

 “If you’re out there, Daddio, I want to meet you. Catch me in the same area, around the same time—and no I’m not going to tell you all exactly where on here!  If you’re there, you’ll know—and if not, I will be streaming the whole thing live this time so don’t miss out! Even if I can’t find my blessing baby daddy, I will certainly still be putting on a show for however many lucky bastards get to grope a pregnant, single slut like me!”

-

You stand along the train platform, anxiously glancing over your shoulder at the random passersby just trying to catch a commute. Some men have definitely eyed you in less than innocent ways already. It’s a cest pool of perverts today. 

You contemplate the biggest hiccup in your plan: You know the only chance you have to recognize him is from feeling his huge dick splitting you open again. Cinderella slipper style, if you will. You didn’t have a name, an address, any identifiable features—you wouldn’t even be able to recognize his face if it were right in front of you given that you never really saw more than a blurred partial reflection of it in the first place. That monster cock is the only thing that you’re betting your life on right now to find him.

But for the safety of your baby—you had 0 plans to fuck anybody today. And I mean it this time.

The wind from the train tunnels keeps riling up your frilly dress, the fabric now fitting a little more snug than it did before thanks to your baby on the way. There’s a sense of excitement mixed with disappointment steaming in your flip flops. No, you had no hope of actually finding him again. 

 But who’s to say you can’t still have a little fun, touch some dicks, get your tits squeezed and call it a successful career?

Rush hour got a bit crazy, and boy were the men just as in a hurry. You bit your lip and smiled at a man who brushed by you, his hand happily squeezing your little ass cheek through your dress. He seemed young, thin, definitely not your man, but his long fingers did feel nice, caressing your hips as he grinned to you as well. Swaying your chest in front of him, he peers over your cleavage. The two of you waited along the platform, the crowd shifting awkwardly around you waiting for the train. You twiddled your hair, angling your phone up so it could capture his hand gently caressing your lower belly. 

His eyes widen in surprise: your bump wasn’t entirely obvious under the skirt of the dress, still small enough to be concealed under baggy clothing but very obvious the moment you feel it or pull the fabric tight. You giggle as he eagerly stroked over your belly, and you can barely see the twinkle of a fantasy forming behind those eyes.

The train followed forward a little too soon, and the man got on without another glance at you. Probably his wedding ring might have had something to do with it, but no matter. You remained where you were.

When the cart rushed past again, the wind blowing your dress, you caught the eye of a group of two behind you. You winked at them, lifting your skirt scandalously to show off your bare ass and wiggle at them, before enticing them to follow you behind the stairwell. 

You propped your phone up quickly, conveniently cutting off from the neck up to disguise their faces before they too rounded the corner. One was a bit shorter, dark haired, maybe around 40s with a full beard. His hands were all wrong, not your guy, but you didn’t deter him as he stroked along your cheek and down your cleavage, pulling the fabric of the dress tight to see your swollen tits. 

The other man, tall and muscular under that tight shirt, blond and younger, pressed firmly along your back, the outline of his cock making you rub your ass along his crotch. You quickly reached behind you and stroked his stiff bulge while they pinched your nipple through your dress, held the weight of your pregnant belly and brushed their knuckles along your inner thigh. 

Their faces didn’t matter. Maybe they were your fans, maybe they were just some lucky pervs at the right place at the right time. Either of them could be your mystery man, while neither could be too. You try to brush off your disappointment with a flirty laugh, stroking both of them through their trousers as they breathed in your perfume and continued to touch your body. No, their cocks were all wrong. It didn’t feel this rigid or this plump, his tip was more bulbous than this, and the curvature is in the opposite direction.

You glanced at your camera, making sure you’re getting good angles of your pronounced body sandwiched between these two creeps. They didn’t say much, thankfully, and you didn’t care to talk. Your feed was blowing up, with them none the wiser at behind recorded.  It’s not until you peep again at the screen that you see a third man entering the frame behind you. 

The other guys shift uncomfortably at his intrusion, but you look up at lucky perv number three. You don’t bat an eye when he boldly put his hand between your thighs and slid up along your skin, thick digits grazing your wet folds. You hum contently. Oh, he’s here for the cake. You try not to go hazy, eying the cheeky bastard while being stimulated all over.

 His height was between the other two but that didn’t make him any less imposing. Broad around the shoulders with a bit of a soft tummy, but his denim shirt hugged those biceps so well. And he’s older too, much older due to the wrinkles under his brown eyes and the grays starting to take over in his curled hair and patchy beard—

Your brows furrow for a second, not enough time to process your thoughts before he’s shoving the other two men aside despite their protests and walking you back against the tiled wall, your bum resting on the metal bar there. His torso parts your legs perfectly, and you gasp, hands gripping his shoulders to keep your balance. He only grins, something very knowing behind that look, a secret you feel left out from, and you’re about to call it all off until he rolls that massive THANG between his legs against your uncovered core.

You moan out in surprise, your head falls forward on his chest. He growls something out to the other guys, who end up scurrying away with their palms pressed on their crotches like scared dogs. 

“L-Look, mister,” you say, and fuck you should be trying to fight this harder. Especially with the jangle of his belt coming undone between you. You don’t want some stranger fucking you—again—that defeats the whole purpose of the tease! You could still shout for help, there’s plenty of other people just around the corner if he tries anything funny. And your baby, your health, your safety— “I don’t —I’m not in the mood for anything—penetrative. But I could satisfy you in other ways,” you huff, dragging your lower lip between your teeth.

He smirks again. His breath is warm, so close to your face you could almost kiss him. He feels so strong yet so soft, holding you securely against him, his hand cradling your belly while his tented cock pressed along your clit. Your hearts racing, beating wildly that you don’t doubt he can’t feel it against his own. Maybe he’s considering it, something willing yet still satisfying. You feel drunk off him despite only sampling the scent of him, not the taste quite yet.

He holds your gaze with his curved nose honing yours. Its intimate.

Familiar.

You should protest at least a little when he flips you around and bends you over. He’s got one hand protectively over your belly, making sure you don’t fall into the wall. You glance up, and the sight of your body positioned perfectly centered at your camera. Fuck—he knew where the camera was? Was he a fan watching your stream before he came over? Your shocked expression fills the screen as his torso and hips press against your ass, yellow dress flipped over your hips for his private view.

Your mind is reeling, unaware of the thick slap of his length against your folds—that jolts your attention. You know that cock…

He thrusts in all at once.  No voice escapes your parted lips to convey the cross eyed, fantastic, unbelievable, one in a million stretch that you had been missing for months, now filling you up to the brim and suffocating every available micro meter inside of you, and making you whole again. The same stretch, the one that’s making you cum on his cock right now, flooding your senes as arousal electrifies every nerve in your body.

The man behind you only chuckles, still getting the perfect view of your gaping mouth and furled brows reflected on the phone scream. he hisses lowly between his teeth as you continue to clench around his cock with your sweet wet little cunt. It’s like scanning a membership, and your body finally recognizes the owner of the shop. You pant harshly into the bar, walls convulsing over his thick length buried deep to your occupied womb.

The man that had placated your mind, your pussy and womb for the last 6 months, the man who left the best gift you’d ever received, the man right here in the flesh, that you had almost considered a dream were it not for the growing swell of his child in your womb occupying your delirium…

He leans over you, just enough so that only his lips are visible at the top of the screen, his voice ghosting along your ear: “Hi babygirl. Missed you. Looks like you have a little surprise for Daddy.” You feel his bear palms caress your swollen tummy.

Your lips curl into a delirious smile, lashes fluttering in blissful patterns of love as your entire being welcomes this man into the home he’s already carved out of you.

Even your baby nestled small in your womb wiggles excitedly at the recognition of her Daddy.

Neither of you look away from another as he begins thrusting into you, rocking your body back and forth along his member like the toy you’re so good at being.

He was amazing—no, better than before if it’s possible. Impossibly hard, long, thick and throbbing, all shoved up your pussy with desperate ruts, impaling your soaking pussy over and over again. You had to remind yourself, still lost like a love sick puppy in his eyes, that you were still in public, being fucked raw, pregnant, behind the stairwell of a crowded train station during rush hour. Nosy chatter echoed through the tunnel as the two of you humped against one another, partially clothed minus your genitals connected in a haze of passionate fucking. The phone in front of you is only forgotten, and you can only imagine the comments and tips blowing up at the fact that you’d actually found him.

Despite the openness, the vulnerability of your position, it feels far more intimate, just the two of you fucking to your hearts content. You’ll wonder later about the wondering eyes from trains beginning to enter the station and seeing the two of you in the blurred windows , but right now, you’d be ready to take his second bastard child right this second. 

Your handsome hero reaches past you and turns the recording off, flipping the phone down. If he’s going to have you again, really have you, it would be his own little private show. No camera. No show. He abruptly pulls out before spinning you around and nestling himself between your thighs again, his cock aligning to your entrance before sliding right back in. Right where he belongs.

“Oooooh shiiiit. Shit Momma, you’re so good at taking it,” he rasps into your neck. He presses a wet kiss along your throat, each thrust pushing you back but he holds you close and sucks you right into his grasp again. Your open lips hover over one another as he sets his pace again, his tip now kissing your cervix with each kiss of your pregnant belly to his naval.

“It’s mine, isn’t it?” He growls with an edge of desperation. “Tell me it’s mine.” Beads of sweat begin to form along the creases of his forehead, but he didn’t once consider slowing his pace. With the pay your ass jiggles at each slap of skin.

“It’s yours,” you cry. There’s no doubt. your heart screams with joy just as the knot in your stomach snaps. he grips your mouth with his strong hand as your head rolls in ecstasy, wailing out into his flesh with unfiltered moans.

Harsh breaths are forced out of his nose, his lips switching between a snarl and a grin as he nears his end. 

“Inside,” you hum into his ear.

He wasn’t planning on putting it anywhere else. With one final heave, he lifts you off the rail briefly, your weight balncing under his arms and your tiptoes on the ground as he bursts inside of you, painting your walls with his hot cream.

You both breathe in the polluted air. Distant echoes of the rafters rattling in the darkened caves ahead while footsteps rustle down the metal stairs behind the two of you. The breeze of the caverned tunnels cools the sweat along both your bodies. He hasn’t let go, still glued to you, holding you close as if you’d slip away.

You sit upright in his lap, trying to catch your breath. You survey one another, pupils blown wide yet calming. The two of you just giggle as your pants slowly sync together. His rough yet gentle fingertips stroke your cheek before brushing away the strands of messy hair that had covered your beautiful face, and for the first time, he can really get a full look at you in person.

“I’m Joel,” he says sweetly. He brings your knuckles to his lips and presses a gentle and long kiss, never once breaking eye contact with you.

You shake your head and laugh, offering your name to him as well.

Although, at this point, with his cock still impaled deep inside, his baby growing in your womb— its safe to say the two of you are well past such a redundant formality.

-----

Permanent Taglist

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce

Series Taglist:

@princesatracionera @mellowcakiesworld @dovesgirl @lixaftermidnight @bitchesuntitled @brittmb115 @sheepdogchick3 @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @lostfleurs @shadowsaz @supernaturalstilinski @batsodapants @pasta-emulsion @pedroisghosties @fairlyang @poeticpascal @amyispxnk @ghostlovesbaguettes @itsokbbygrl @lovehappyloki

#kdogreads later #pedro pascal smut #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut

[kdogreads]

glitch

pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

word count: ~1k

summary: Prequel to nights are so starry, blood moonlit. How you and Javi became neighbors with benefits.

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), smoking, alcohol consumption, able-bodied reader, a hint of dom!Javi, unprotected p in v, kinda rough sex, ass slaps, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), Javi is a menace, a hint of angst and feelings because of who i am as a person

a/n: written for @iamasaddie’s writing challenge 2.0 with the prompt "never knew you were such a freak", and since my first story about these two was also part of one of aly's writing challenges, it just made sense to revisit them :)

dividers as always by @saradika-graphics <3

find my full masterlist here and follow @janaispunknotifs for fic updates!

It had started out with fleeting glances in the hallway, quick greetings when your apartment doors opened at the same time, then short conversations on your adjoining balconies, late night talks with your feet propped up on the railing and his back leaning against it, sometimes exchanging a cigarette or a light, or occasionally a bottle of beer when one of you had run out. 

Of course you noticed the ridiculously tight jeans that really shouldn't look that good on him, the way his broad shoulders strained against his clothes, and the way his shirts always revealed a little too much of his golden-skinned chest. You couldn't deny the fact that your neighbor was incredibly attractive, and that he knew it. 

You probably should have said no when late one evening, after Javi had found you on your balcony, smoking and watching the glistening city lights, he invited you to share a glass of bourbon. Together. At his place. 

He had been flirting with you, which you suspected he did with every woman he met, and you had tried not to pay it any mind, but you were well aware of how this evening would end if you accepted. 

You should have said no, and a stronger, less lonely version of you might have, but you craved human contact, craved to be touched by someone else than yourself, and if the sounds that traveled through the thin walls from his bedroom to yours frequently enough were any indication, Javi knew what he was doing. 

You should have said no, because it became clear to you very quickly that Javier Peña would ruin you for all other men.

He was more gentle, more caring than you had expected him to be and he prioritized your pleasure in a way that you had never experienced from any man before. He took you to heights that you hadn’t thought possible before, and it was addicting.

You should have said no, but you hadn’t, and now you keep coming back for more. 

You keep coming back for the way his skin tastes under your tongue, for the way his lips press against yours, swallowing moans and whimpers, for the way his fingers and his cock reach so deep inside of you that you still feel him hours later, when you have said your good nights and crawled under the covers of your own bed. Never his, never crossing the line to a different kind of intimacy.

It’s another one of those nights, a soft knock on a door, a mutual understanding passing between you, gentle touches that burned under your skin until they got more demanding, until you both gave in to that pull that kept you coming back. 

He’s already made you come on his tongue twice, until you were dripping onto his sheets, his name the only word in your mind and on your lips. You’re on your hands and knees, limbs shaking, trying to accommodate his length and the harsh rhythm that he’s setting. 

“Taking me so fucking well,” he pants, running his hands down your back and over your ass. You chase his touch, goosebumps forming in its wake, your moans filling the air as he keeps hitting impossibly deep inside of you. 

His palm connects with your skin, nothing more than a playful swat, but the sensation sears through you, lighting your nerve endings on fire as you all but scream your pleasure into the softly lit bedroom.

“Oh?” His voice is low, rough in his throat. You don’t need to turn your head and look behind you to know that he’s smirking down at you right now. “You liked that, huh?” 

You nod eagerly, too far gone to be ashamed of the way your hips are bucking back against him, working desperately to feel him deeper inside of you. 

He slaps you again, harder this time, and you feel yourself clenching around him, feel the way a new wave of slick is coating his cock. His fingers dig into your shoulder and he pulls you up, until your torso is pressed against his, his mouth moving against the delicate skin of your neck. 

“Never knew you were such a freak, baby,” he whispers, his lips curling into a grin, teeth nipping at you.

“Shut up.” You try to hold your voice steady, ignore the throbbing need between your thighs, but he just chuckles and presses another kiss against the side of your throat before he loosens his hold and pushes you back towards the mattress. 

His hands grab your hips instead, pulling you into his thrusts, filling you so deeply that you see stars behind your eyelids.

“You want me to do it again?” You hate how smug he sounds, would love to deny him the satisfaction, but god, you do want him to. 

“Fuck– please, Javi.” You’re breathless, reduced to a mess of trembling thighs and desperate whimpers, and you wish that you could stay like this forever. 

He slaps your ass twice in quick succession and deepens his thrusts at the same time, punching all air from your lungs. His hand snakes down to graze your clit and you’re overwhelmed with sensations, pure pleasure coursing through your veins so suddenly that it’s almost disorienting. You collapse onto the sheets, your pussy pulsing around him as your body shakes through its third orgasm of the night and you’re whimpering his name as he buries himself deep inside of you and comes with a groan, painting your insides with his release. 

After more kisses, more touches, and a shared cigarette, you get dressed and eventually, his apartment door clicks shut behind you. You lean your back against the wall, closing your eyes and breathing deeply for a moment before you enter your own place.

Again, you know that you’ll be coming back for more. And that no matter how many times you come back, it will never be enough.

thank you for reading 🤍 if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask, it truly makes my day every single time!

#kdogreads later #javier peña

[kdogreads]

Fleeting Paradise

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Smut, somnophilia, oral both m!receiving and f!receiving, face sitting, overstimulation, squirting

Summary: Their weekend alone is ending, and Joel’s girl decides to wakes him up in the best way possible.

A/N: This is an excerpt from Chapter 13 of my ongoing fic Always an Angel, Never a God. To read more visit my a03.

The night sky starts to turn a powder blue color as dawn approaches. Joel is still asleep beneath my head. A pit in my sumac grows at the thought of our time coming to an end. Ellie and Sarah will be back this afternoon, and Joel and I will be forced to return to our normal secrecy.

I’m excited to see Ellie again, and to hear all about how their trip went, but I will also miss this. Joel’s gentle snores in the morning air. Walking around the house without concern about who might be lurking behind the corner. The freedom to exist without someone relying on me. I’m not ready for it to end.

My fingers brush gently against Joel’s skin. He looks so peaceful right now. I press a kiss to his chest, and another. I can feel his hardness poking into my thigh beneath the covers. Suddenly I feel a wetness gathering between my legs.

It’s so early in the morning. I should probably let him continue to sleep, but I think back to what we had talked about the other morning. I’m sure he’ll be fine with the early morning wake up call.

I crawl carefully down his body, slipping beneath the covers slowly so as not to wake him. I listen closely to the sounds of his heavy breathing as I position myself between his legs. I have to be careful not to wake him if this is going to work.

When I hear him snore again I press a gentle kiss to the tip of his cock as a test. His length twitches at the stimulation, but otherwise he doesn’t stir. I take it as my opportunity to continue, softly grazing the underside of his cock with my tongue.

I keep my hands in the sheets on either side of his hips, worried that grabbing him may wake him up. I want to keep this going for as long as possible.

He’s still not moving or showing signs of waking up, so I continue to lick along his length. Once I’m confident he’s not going to wake up I wrap my lips around the head of his cock and slowly sink him into my mouth. I keep the pace slow and gentle, swirling my tongue around him as I take him deeper.

I feel him pulse in my mouth and suddenly he shifts, a soft groan escaping his lips. I freeze, thinking he’s finally woken up, but his snores continue. I pick up the pace a little, just enough to feel him twitch more but not enough to stir him from sleep.

I can hear his breathing get deeper as I continue, his member pulsing in my mouth. I pull him deeper in my mouth as he finally starts to wake. I feel his hands reach out across the top of the covers as he mumbles my name, followed by a loud groan as he comes in my mouth.

He’s still partially asleep, unable to make sense of the pleasure coursing through his body as I welcome the ribbons of spend down my throat. His hands grip the blankets as his hips twitch.

“Fuckk,” he groans as his cock twitches once more. I pull off of him with a pop and climb up his chest so he can see me.

When my head pops out of the covers he opens his eyes fully for the first time, the sunrise starting to shine through the window. He grabs my chin with his fingers and pulls it down.

“Show me,” he growls. I open my mouth to show the evidence of him still on my tongue. He groans and pulls his fingers away. “Swallow it honey,”

I do as he says and then open my mouth again to show him. Immediately he pulls me in for a kiss, licking into my mouth.

“That was so fucking hot,” he mumbles when he pulls away, his voice still raspy from waking up. I giggle and kiss the patch in his beard.

He wraps around my waist and pulls me to lay down on top of him. I let him keep me there, my head raising and lowering on his chest with each of his breaths. We watch the soft colors in the sky make way for the brightness of the sun. I sigh, Joel’s fingers running circles in my skin underneath the shirt I stole from him to sleep in.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks. I bite my lip and look at the clock.

“I just don’t want this to end,” I say. He looks over at the clock as well and then flips it over so neither of us can see the time anymore.

“So let’s ignore that then,” His fingers play with my hair as his eyes peer into mine. “Just stay here, with me. Let me repay you for this morning.”

Joel pushes me to climb further up his body, positioning my hips above his head. I grip the headboard and tremble as he attempts to pull me down onto his mouth.

“Joel-“ I protest, unsure how I feel about sitting on his face. His fingers grip my hips harder.

“It’s okay baby, I can handle it.” He pulls my hips down again and I slowly let myself into his face. His nose bumps against my clit as he begins to lick down my center.

I hover there, letting him eat me with my hands gripping the bed frame. He slowly swirls his tongue through my folds. Once I’ve left defenses rest he shoves my hips down the remainder of the way, forcing me to put my whole weight down, as he starts to hungrily lap at my core. I throw my head back and moan at the contact, my fingers leaving indents in the wood of the headboard as he hums against me.

He thrusts his tongue inside me and curls it just perfectly enough to hit that spot that makes me squirm. I cry out and grind against his face which only spurs him on more. He reaches his right hand around to start drawing circles on my clit as I rock back and forth.

An intense pressure builds inside me as he works me higher, onscene squelching sounds filling the air with my moans. I try to pull away when I feel it approaching, the overwhelming pressure that can only mean one thing, but Joel feels it too and keeps me planted above him.

He moves his fingers and mouth at a rapid pace until I let go, gushing all over his face as a spray of liquid escapes me. He groans and takes as much as he can in his mouth, lapping it down until I have to pull him away.

I collapse onto the bed next to him and he pulls a hand up to his face, wiping my juices from his beard. I can taste myself on his lips when he pulls me in for a kiss.

To read more visit my a03.

#kdogreads later #joel miller smut #joel miller