You Give Them a Massage 💆♂️
Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp, Nami, Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk.
Buy me a KO-FI
Luffy
Luffy while not exactly needing massages enjoys the physical affection.
You will focus on his spine as you gently knead his muscles into relaxation. Which usually turns into you kneading a soft rubbery feeling since he will relax so much it's like he turns into a toy.
"Are you stretching out?"
You question as you realize you've kneaded him into puddy. As well as praising the nice clean lemon scented lotions you used.
He will giggle at the feeling and eventually fall asleep at your touch.
"Your hands are sooo nice (Y/N)!'
Sanji
A massage for Sanji usually starts out as physical therapy for his legs since the muscles are so tight and locked up it causes him pain. Stretching him out leads to him usually Biting a Pillow and groaning in discomfort.
*Please watch for your viewing pleasure ;3
Once done with that you massages away. Focusing on his legs and thighs in order to get him relaxed. Using nice peach scented lotion to help him relax.
"Your hands are heavenly my dear~"
He will flirt with you while on the table but eventually just develope into groans of bliss.
Zoro
Zoro will be stubborn and not want a message at first. However fall into it when his shoulders are sore.
You have to use baby oil for him since his skin is very rough. You have to use a lot of strength to work out the knots in his shoulders, having felt stones that were softer.
"This is ridiculous, I don't see... ohh"
Once you hit that point that has been hurting him he will fall under your spell. Humming in gentle delight as you work out the sorness and tension from his shoulders.
He will fall asleep, snoring rathed loudly as you smooth out his shoulders.
"That was.. very very nice"
Usopp
Usopp will be down for a massage, especially since all his maintenance om the ship make his arms sore.
At first talking your ear off about fake stories as you worked, using different mango lotions on his hands to make them soft.
"You know, I traveled to this island once that had beautiful mermaids, they were all over.. over oh that feels nice"
Will eventually fall into a dreamy like state as he will mumble gentle praise as you work up and down his arms.
"That was so nice (Y/N) thank you"
Nami
Oh poor Nami- Her lower back is always a problem for her! So when you offer a massage she jumps at the opportunity.
You work at the very strong tension on her lower back and help ease the ache. Using nice orange scented lotion for her to add a bit of aroma therapy to the room.
"Gods that's so nice... ugh having boobs suck-"
She will grumble earning some nice chuckles out of both of you. Casual conversation will take place between the two of you as you work, but at the end silence will win over as she's too relaxes to speak.
"Thank you (Y/N) you're a life saver~"
Buggy
Buggy never talks about how sometimes his joints ache after using his devil fruit. Mainly his neck if he detaches his head for long periods of time.
Will throw a mini temper tantrum as you tell him to get on the table, which he does even if he makes a fuss.
Once you start this man is all moans and whimpers. Feeling you work the muscles in his neck into relaxation.
"Fucckkkk" He will moan and pretty much fall apart under your skilled hands. The nice strawberry lotion filling the room which makes him even more complient and relaxed. Defiently the type to get 'excited' during a massage as well.
"Well.. maybe we can do this again?"
Shanks
Shanks will be open to a massage, however it takes him a while to actually relax.
You focus on his shoulders and side of his body. Especially the one with his missing arm, He does get phantom pains and were the muscles are suppose to connect on his missing arm sometimes clench at the pack of stimulation. So you have to carefully work those muscles with your fingers and travel up to his shoulders and side of his body.
"...Thank you (Y/N)"
He will sigh out, feeling the ache in his arm fade from your fingers as the cucumber lotion helps him relax. Will try and crack a few jokes with you here and there but will eventually relax enough to allow silence.
"It's been a while since I've felt this nice, Thank you again"
Mihawk
When Mihawk finally allows you to give him a massage after pestering him for a while you see why- It's like his entire back is made of cobblestone- You question how he gets any sleep with this much tension!
It takes a good hour just to work out the knots before you can even begin to give him a proper massage. He will grunt only at the nice feeling of you working his muscles into submission, the Eucalyptus lotion helping his mind fade into tranquil bliss as you work.
Mihawk is dead silent the while time you work, enjoying the peaceful silence as you get him to relax and ease the pain in his entire back.
Once finishes you are close to exhaustion.
"Thank you deeply (Y/N)"
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Babydoll| Dom!Eddie
Cw: porn with a slight plot, daddy kink, mechanic!Eddie, dom Eddie/sub reader relationship, reader referred to with pet names (babydoll, babygirl) oral (f receiving), lots of dirty talk, p in v, eddie and reader are in their mid 20’s
Summary: You're having a hard week, and your bf knows just the cure.
wc:2.2.k
This week has been challenging. Work had been a nightmare; you had been running around like a chicken with its head cut off. You were drained physically, mentally, and emotionally; you were exhausted. So when you get home to see your man, Eddie, on the couch after work, already cleaned up from the grime and oil he has to endure, you can’t help but crawl into his lap.
You tell him you didn’t have time to breathe these past four days. You told him that everyone needed you then and there and that you didn’t even have time to finish your regular duties. You were at your breaking point…he could see it on your face when you walked through the door.
Eddie knew what he had to do. He had to take control. He usually does, but when you’re in dire need, such as this week, he had to help you relax. He had to help you forget about everything and anything. You needed to have your mind numbed, and he knew just how to get you into that space.
“I’m sorry, baby girl, you should have told me earlier in the week. You know you can always talk to me.” Eddie caressed the back of your head before wrapping his arms around you in a protective hug.
“I know,” you sniffled, “but I didn’t wanna burden you; you’ve been so busy at the shop, and I didn’t want my stress being your stress,” you stressed. This was the problem: you didn’t know how to dump all of your stuff onto others healthily. You usually held it in until you exploded. Usually, you exploded alone in your room, but being with Eddie seemed to make everything better. He made everything better.
“No. None of that. You need to know when you can come to your Daddy, okay?” Eddie pulled back to tilt your chin up and look you in the eyes.
“Oh,” your voice stammered as your stomach did a backflip. So that’s how tonight was going to go.
“Now, be a good girl and sit up.” You obeyed and wrapped one leg over his waist so you could be straddling him.
“There she is, there is, my pretty girl.” You still blush at his praises, even after all this time.
Eddie reached out to tuck a stray hair behind your ear. “You want me to make you feel good, baby?” He cooed.
You slightly nod your head. God you needed to let go, to no longer have control. You trusted Eddie with every fibre of your being.
“Words babydoll.
“Yes, Daddy."
“Good girl.” He traced your cheek with his rough calloused fingers. Before placing a gentle kiss to your forehead.
You could still smell a hit of motor oil permanently attached to his scent, but you didn’t mind. It’s what made him your Eddie.
You leaned your head into his touch; he was so gentle, but you knew it wouldn’t last long. Not when you two played like this.
You watched as Eddie tilted his head so his lips could reach yours. A soft and gentle kiss at first, nothing but PG 13. That was until a small moan left your lips. You wanted and needed more. Your hips were on autopilot as you started grinding back and forth in his lap. His rough jeans felt so nice under your clothed pussy, the friction was just right, especially with his hardening cock coming to life under you.
“Take what you need. Tonight it’s all about you. Take what's yours.” Eddie whispered even though it was only the two of you in the apartment unit. His big hands gripped each cheek of your ass and helped guide you. Your pussy wax throbbing, getting wetter with each of his words.
“Daddy, I want more.” You let out a shaky breath. Yes the jeans were nice but they would never satisfy.
“What does my baby need?” He cocked his head.
“You”
“My, what? Baby girl, use your words.”
“Your everything, Daddy.”
Eddie didn’t push any further. Tonight, he knew you couldn’t take the constant pestering for specifics he usually puts you through.
“Okay, baby, I’m here. Your Daddy’s got you.” With that, he stood with you still wrapped around his waist and carried you into the bedroom. When you first started going out, you were so scared you were too heavy for him, but then he reminded you he lifted tires that weigh hundreds of pounds for a living. So the way Eddie was carrying you now didn't seem to phase him.
He placed you down so you stood on your own two feet and let you know he was going to undress you. Once you were entirely naked, he gently laid you down on the bed.
“There you go sweetheart, all you have to do is lay there and look pretty.” The way you were looking at Eddie made his cock stand up even more than it had been when you were on the couch. He couldn't wait to have his way with you. He was so excited to play with you.
Your delicate hand slowly trailed down your body, but Eddie pushed it out of the way before it reached its destination. “Not too fast, sweetheart, this is my pussy, and you know I don’t like to share.” He tutted.
“M’sorry, Daddy.”
“I’m going to let it slide this time, but don’t get used to it.” His tone was stern, you knew he wasn’t fucking around tonight.
“Yes, Daddy.” You bite your lip. You were starting to completely forget about the troubles you had faced merely an hour ago.
“Good girl,” Eddie spoke as he stripped. “Now, where to start first?”
You knew he wasn’t asking you, it was a rhetorical question, but you so wanted to tell him your pussy. Your clit was screaming at you; you could feel your heartbeat down there at this point.
“Please!” you whine.
“Patients darling.”
You pout at his words. You needed him, he knew how badly you needed him. You could feel your arousal seeping out of you as it trailed down your inter thighs.
“I need you now.” You spread your legs ever wider to prove how needy your pussy had gotten for him, so he could see everything.
“Fuck baby, you’re killing me.” Eddie groaned and dove head-first into your pussy. You let out a sigh of relief when his soft warm lips come into contact with your pussy lips. His hands reached up, never forgetting about your breasts. He teased and tugged at each nipple sending a ripple of pleasure through your body.
“You’re always so sweet for me, aren't you, babydoll?” He moved his free hand to stroke your clit with his index finger as he spoke. “Who’s this pussy belong to?”
“Yes, Daddy, only you.” It was so meek, but he still heard it in the silence of the bedroom.
“Good.” Eddie dove back in. His mouth attacked your clit until you were seeing starts. His tongue wrapped around your clit and pussy lips before lapping into your drenched hole. You gripped his hair as your body went into autopilot again. Your brain was finally shutting off completely; you forgot about everything and anything that wasn't Eddie. All you could focus one was the feeling of pleasure building inside of you as you ride Eddie’s face.
“You’re doing so good for me." He praised. "I want you to come on my mouth before you get to come on my cock a few times…. How does that sound?”
“Mmmmhmmpf,” you managed to nod your head, and your hips continued to grind Eddie’s face. You used his mouth to get off and you finally exploded. That’s all you wanted was to feel good, and Eddie always gave that to you.
“I'm coming!” You cried before yelling out Eddie’s name.
“Good girl.” Eddie kissed your clit once before giving your clit a slight slap making your body jerk, continuing to ride out your first orgasm.
"You want to make Daddy feel good now, don't you?” He asked, and you nodded your head dumbly. You needed to have him feel good and you did, you would give him the world if he asked. “That's it, there's my good girl." He smirked as he sat up to align his angry red cock at your gooey entrance.
“You ready for me?” He asked permission like he always does. And you nodded like you always do, as if you would say no? But if you ever did you knew Eddie would roll right off and cuddle you the rest of the night.
“Words, baby, I need to hear you say it.”
“Yes”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes I want you to fuck me, Daddy!” you answered.
Eddie could see your eyes were glazed over with lust. He knew he had you in his favourite place. Cock drunk and needy... just for him.
"Daddy is going to fill your pretty little pussy right to the brim and then keep fucking you until you can’t think anymore, that okay with you baby girl?"
“Okay, Daddy.” You let out a shaky breath in anticipation. His words make your pussy flutter once again. His mouth always made you wet in more ways than one.
Eddie took his cock by the shaft and slapped your very sensitive clit a few times with the head before he ran it up and down your slit a few times to collect your slick so he could slip in smoothly but you still winced at the size of him.
"I know, baby girl, Daddy's cock is so big, but you can take it."
“I can.” You countered back.
“That’s what I like to hear.” He is cock slid in without any hesitation. He made it to the hilt, and you finally felt complete. Like a missing piece of you was found.
Eddie slowly pulled back before slowly pumping back into you, gaining speed with each delicious pump. He watched as his thick long cock disappeared inside of you.
“You feel that babydoll? I’m so deep inside you I can see it in your stomach.” He pressed a hand down onto your lower stomach, and you let out a long, drawn out moan.
“Oh god! Fuck right there!” It was like a bolt of lightning ran through you.
“Ohhh oh, oh yes! That’s it squeeze my cock, you’re going to milk me so good” His eyes squeezed shut, trying not to cum until you’ve had your fair share.
“Please I’m so close!” The feeling inside you quickly built back up.
“I know, baby. Let go for me.” His hand trailed down to your overly swollen clit. He rubbed quick little circles until he felt your walls clamp down on him. Your body was washed over with another wave of pleasure.
“God you squeeze me so good” he gritted through his teeth. Again refusing to cum until he gave you one more. Eddie pulled out before he could bust inside of you too soon. You let out a cry at the loss of Eddie’s contact. Eddie could see your tight hole closing in on its wild again as he pulled out.
The loss of contact didn’t last long as his thick fingers replaced his cock. He watched intently as his fingers stretched you out once again. They swam in your slick before he brought them to your lips.
“Taste how sweet you are, babydoll.” He grabbed your jaw to open your mouth and slipped his fingers inside of your mouth. You could taste the mix of you and Eddie on your tongue.
“God, you have the prettiest lips. Can’t wait until they are wrapped around my cock later.” You swirled your tongue around his fingers and hummed. Eddie’s eyes were full of lust as he observed you. You were lost in your own lust, all fucked out and needy. You hardly were processing Eddie’s words.
"Now baby, you're gonna take all of Daddy's cum, and then we are going to make sure it stays in there all night long. Okay? Gotta breed this pussy so good so everyone knows who you belong to.”
“Yes, Daddy,” you moaned in a daze. The thought of Eddie filling you made your head spin. Having a part of him growing inside you, god, you needed it more than air to breathe.
Eddie doesn’t hesitate to manhandle you and flip you over into all fours, and you let out an oomph before you feel his strong hands grip each hip. Your body feels like it’s on fire as his thick cock slams back into your wanton pussy. He then gabs both of your hands and holds them behind your back as your chest falls onto the plush bedding. And then he rides you. He fucks into like there will be no tomorrow.
“Fuckin’ love this needed little pussy, love it so much.” Eddie slammed into you between each word. “Love it ever better when it’s been bread with my cum.”
“Yes!
“You going to let me own this body?”
“Yes, Daddy, please!” You cried. His cock was grazing your G spot with each pump. Having eddies cock stretch and pump into you never failed to make you moan.
“Show me what’s mine baby, yea that’s it arch your back for me.” Eddie loved you in this position because it was when you were the most obedient. You were so playable you would do almost anything he asked of you when he had you bend over like this. It was also when you were the loudest without realizing it. All fucked out and cock drunk, not aware of your noises.
“Oh fuck, scream my name! Let everyone know who owns this pussy!” He cheered as he slapped your ass.
“Daddy!!” You scream because your throbbing pussy can’t take anymore. Your third orgasm is washing over you before you know what is happening. Your whole body felt like it was on fire but like you were also floating simultaneously.
Finally, Eddie can breed your pussy. “Gunna fills this pussy” Eddie lets out a loud grunt as he cums inside you. His cock twitches inside of you, releasing his hot sticky cum inside.
Eddie pumps his cock two more times, making sure it stays inside of you before he pulls out.
Your limp body is flopped on the bed, and Eddie pulls you into his chest.
“Thank you, baby,” you whispered as you returned to reality.
“I’ll always be here for you, baby girl.” He kisses you sweetly before you spend the rest of the evening in bed.
Tagging those who showed interest😈 @take-everything-you-can @reidsbtch @itsfreakingbats @lofaewrites
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landscape with honey
summary: price/reader bear shifter fic. PART 4. (read the whole thing on ao3 here)
tags: light daddy kink, breeding kink, very nsfw, she/her pronouns for reader
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He starts showing up at your house at odd hours.
You’re fixing coffee in the morning, still fuzzy and warm from sleep, only to hear the sounds of hammering outside. Wrapping yourself in just a housecoat, you find John fixing the loose step on your stairs, barely sparing enough time to greet you before returning to the task at hand. When he finishes, he brushes off your attempts to pay him for the job, just loading his tools back in the car and driving off.
You sip your coffee and wonder. Odd.
The next day, you find him raking the leaves in your lawn. Two days later, he shows up at the grocers when you’re picking up produce, and helps you carry all your bags to the car. He also adds a peculiar amount of canned goods to your order and when you fret and try to tell him that you don’t need the pickles and sauerkraut and beans and all of that stuff, he just lays a hand flat on your head and drags it down your hair until you go quiet.
He pays for the whole order.
You’ve never had to wonder about a man’s actions. Men are largely inscrutable to you, ever-shifting. They say one thing and mean another. They look at you like one might look at an oil painting, entitled something like Virgin Meeting Her Lover’s Eyes From The Top Of The Staircase or Landscape With Virgin. They speak to you as though an answer were entirely antithetical to their purpose in conversing with you.
John listens to you with a focus that borders on intimidating, like he wants to hear each word enunciated exactly how you might enunciate it. It has the sharp clarity of respect, of a mutual acknowledgement of humanity. He also comes over to fix your sink without you having to ask. The world of men is still largely confusing to you.
John grows surlier as the days grow shorter though. He doesn’t snap or snarl at you the way he does sometimes with his recruits (you rarely see him interact with them, but sometimes you’ll drop him off his lunch on the days when you’re feeling particularly generous and that’s when you’ll have the rare pleasure of hearing him shout at a trembling twenty-three year old for littering on the trail like a military captain), but it’s a near thing.
The worst is when he catches you on a jog one morning on his drive to work. You see his truck with the faded red paint pass you by and you give a short wave that he returns. He passes you by about half a yard before coming to a full stop and reversing. You stare at him as the window rolls down, brows furrowed.
“Hi Jo—” you start.
“Get in the car,” John growls. You hear the doors unlock.
“…My uh…my shift’s in two hours, John, I can’t just—”
“Get in the car.”
“This is my only time to exercise!”
“If I have to get out of this car and drag you inside, honey, I will. Don’t play with me. Get in.”
You get in the car. Probably wisely. Still dripping sweat and shivering from the cold—you’re not used to jogging in the winter, or at all for that matter, but it seemed like as good a time as any to start—you glance over to stare at the side of John’s face. His jaw is set, almost as if in anger. His knuckles are white over the steering wheel as he makes a U-turn and drives back into town. The cab of his truck smells like flannel pulled out from the back of a closet, almost musty, but comforting in the way that old clothes can sometimes smell. There’s a cigarette ashed out in the dish in front of the centre console.
He takes you to the nearest bakery for coffee and a breakfast muffin and stares you down until you eat the whole thing. You feel like you have to scarf it down. Customers bustle into the bakery to order coffee to-go and fresh cookies and scones in waxy paper bags; everyone in town knows each other so you try to avoid the more curious stares when they’re turned on you.
“This is weird,” you say, staring down at the crumbs on your plate. “This is really weird.”
“This is what you get for exercising before winter,” John says, flagging down the barista for another muffin and a refill on your coffee. “Waste of calories.” The last part is said derisively, almost with a scoff.
You frown. “Lots of people exercise. Even when it snows.”
“Winter is a time for hibernating. Not…sweat,” he says with a grimace, like the very thought is anathema to him.
"Hibernating?" you repeat skeptically, scrunching up your nose. "I mean, I spend a lot of time indoors, but I wouldn't say I'm hibernating."
John stares at you until you look away, flushed. "Finish your breakfast."
The barista returns with another blueberry muffin and a fresh cup of coffee. At least John's the one paying. When he finally seems satisfied, he hustles you home and leaves you off at the door with a stern warning.
“You gonna be good for me this time?” he asks, a finger curled under your chin, tilting your head up. One of his hands curls around the doorframe and your heart jumps when you hear the wood creak under his grip. This close, you can see the faintest silver streaks at his temples and the flecks of it in his beard.
“It was just a light jog,” you mumble, looking away.
“Not a light anything,” he warns, ducking closer until you feel like shrinking back, like disappearing into your house. “Bake a cake if you have to burn off energy so bad. I’ll be over around seven, alright?”
You mumble something, the words getting lost in themselves. It’s impossible to think with John in your space like this. It’s only when he finally pulls away and ambles back to his truck that you rock back on your heels, let go of whatever spell he had you under.
The first week of December hits town like a truck.
You’re trudging home alone after your shift when you make the decision to cut through the forest because you missed the last bus and you don’t want to spend an hour walking home. The first snow of the season has caught you off guard, clad in boots too autumnal and a sweater too thin for the biting cold. The flakes fall in thick chunks that stick for a brief moment before melting into the skin.
It’s not the first time you’ve travelled through the forest alone. The town is surrounded by pockets of the forest, like it can’t help enveloping whatever space is left for it. Oftentimes it’s easier just to cut through the woods rather than travel the long way around. You wouldn’t even call this the forest proper, not like the acres of trees sprouting over the mountains just off in the distance.
A bush rustles. Your eyes flick over for a second, breath hovering in your chest before you decide that it’s just a squirrel. Nothing ever happens in a town like this. The man from the other day notwithstanding, nothing truly bad ever happens. You keep walking down the partially demarcated path, lit only by the full moon overhead. It’s so dark that the snow around you is almost blue.
The bush rustles again. You stop this time, feet staying planted in the snow long enough for your feet to grow cold. You stare at the dark shoots covered in a layer of snow; it stripes the branches like candy from a time ago, licorice twisted with white bark, and it doesn’t move when you look at it. The bushes and trees are dense, impossible to peer through. Even walking through the forest doesn’t make you feel immersed in it. You follow a barely marked path, hard to see through the recent snowfall, and stare out into the dark woods with a kind of animal sense. Not sure whether you’re alone, whether something’s there with you, and whether it’s sensed you or if you’ve sensed it first.
You start walking again when your feet go numb. Better to just get home.
It comes behind you again as a slightly louder rustle. It’s harder to shake off the fear this time, harder to say that it’s just the wind. The snow crunches under more than one set of feet, branches cracking under the weight of something larger than you.
You don’t want to turn around, but the sound of something chuffing makes your stomach drop. The first thing that emerges when you turn to face it is its massive head, a white frosted muzzle, and the visible hump on its back. The wispy smoke of its breath puffs out when it breathes. Its eyes are dark, hardly reflecting any light at all. Then the rest of it emerges, the saplings bending out of its way as it clambers out of the woods and onto the path, staring you down all the while.
You’ve never seen a bear before. Not this close. Not so close that you know it’s been stalking you, know that it didn’t come upon you by accident. You’re staring down at your own body from somewhere else, fear displacing you. Rending you from your own body. There’s no way to guess its weight at a glance, but it’s easily twice the size of you, easily more than that.
When it takes a step forward, everything goes dark.
You wake up snuggled under the warmth of a thick blanket. Sleep is creamy thick, engulfing you on all sides, only the faintest prickle of awareness letting you know that you’re awake.
It’s unpleasant to leave the cotton miasma of sleep, you think. Your nose scrunches up and you let out a tired huff, trying to will yourself back into it. The harder you try to force yourself back into it though, the farther away it floats.
Still it weighs you down. It takes an age to work up the energy to so much as twitch a finger. Even your eyelids insist on staying shut. Yet, the prickle of consciousness needles at you as if to say hello, wake up, you need to get up. You sigh and try to shimmy up onto your elbows.
A hand shoves you back down. The breath rushes out of you.
“Get…back down,” a rough voice grunts from over you and then the full weight of a man settles on top of you, pressing you deep into the mattress.
Consciousness snaps back into you, elastic sharp. The weight of him pins you to the bed, makes you sink into the plushness of—and this is gradually coalescing in your mind—an unfamiliar place. All four corners of your body are trapped under him. The voice is familiar though. Ragged, brutal. A saw taken to the trunk of an old, thick tree, too many interior rings to count. You whisper John’s name and he grunts, making you flinch from how the sound reverberates through the side of your head.
Exhaustion is thick though and it leaves you heavy, even when John slowly lifts himself to his elbows from behind you. You feel him drag his body down the length of the bed, beard scratching into your skin with every petal soft kiss dropped along your spine during his descent.
“John?” you whisper, only just able to turn your head, not even able to struggle up to your elbows. “J-John?”
He doesn’t answer you. The room is near pitch black, only a window on the other end of the room with the curtain pulled back the smallest amount enough to let the moonlight in. Even the moonlight isn’t enough. You know from the shape of the window that this isn’t your house, that it must be somewhere else. You can only surmise from John’s presence that it’s his, but that thought passes over you like a rock skipping over water.
“Wher’m’I?” you murmur, eyes fluttering shut when his lips press over the small of your back. Sensitive there.
Rough hands with callused fingertips smooth over your ass, pressing into the flesh. His fingers pry your cheeks apart, thumbs dipping into the space between and pressing over your hole, making you burn all over. You’re too far gone to worry about any hair on your legs or anything about your body other than John’s hands undulating over your ass and thighs. You flinch violently when his teeth sink into the meat on the underside of your ass, so tender that even exhausted to the bone your body lashes out.
Big hands pry your legs apart. You flinch at the sudden hot breath over your sex, a whine tickling your throat. His face hovers so close to your centre that the tip of his nose presses on the tender skin near your entrance.
“Wha’ d’you…think you’re doin’...” you ask breathlessly. Your brain tries to order your leg to kick, but it stays flat and limp on the bed.
The first touch of John’s tongue along your slit makes you melt, the flat of his tongue lapping upward and making your hips tilt up with it. It almost makes your mind go blank again, almost tips you back into the unconscious world because the synapses in your brain stop firing the second you remember that it’s John between your legs licking hungrily at your cunt. John from the grocery store, John from the ranger’s station in the mountains—the John you’ve been crushing on and coveting for months now, content to just be friends with the gruff, handsome man in the house next to yours. Now sucking one of your nether lips into his mouth and tracing his tongue up the inside, gliding it over the supple flesh.
“Yer in the den,” John mumbles into your pussy and it’s like he sears the words into your brain. “‘N I’m takin’ care of you, honey.”
“The…the den…?” It’s so hard to keep your thoughts in order. Each flick of his tongue makes you gasp, pussy growing wetter and hips grinding languidly down on his face.
He hums instead of answering.
“Why’m’I so tired?” you slur.
His tongue saws over your clit from behind. It tears a broken whimper from you. You feel every textured ridge, the way it flicks around in a circle and then up and down again.
“Winter season,” John says, sucking your clit into his mouth until you whine at the top of your lungs. “Bear’s sleep in winter.”
“Tha’s silly. M’not a bear,” you moan.
“No,” he agrees, humming into your sex. “Jus’ mated to one. Makes you sleepy too, honey.”
“Mated?” you repeat back, but it’s lost in the way you moan when he eats your pussy from the back, licking into you with renewed vigour. Hungry like a bear. Grunting like a satisfied man, slurping loud enough to make your face heat up.
Words and old memories about bears hardly matter when the handsome man from next door spreads your legs wide, almost to the point of pain, and sinks his tongue into your hole again. You never would’ve expected John to be vocal, but he’s noisy behind you, groaning into your cunt. He keeps mumbling things under his breath that you can’t catch.
“John—” you gasp, biting your lip when he sucks your clit into his mouth again. “John—John—”
He only has to give you a single finger to tip you over the edge, feeds it in nice and slow. Your cunt clenches down at the intrusion, teeth nearly breaking through the skin of your lip.
When he crawls back over you, anticipation makes you shudder. You hear something faint in the background that grows steadily louder as John rests his elbows on either side of your head, until you realize that it’s your own voice murmuring, “Put it in, put it in, put it in—”
He obliges. A thick, steady plunge that hardly manages more than a handful of inches before you’re crying, and it’s too much, too much, too much. Pleasure not a limpid pool anymore but something cavernous and deep-dwelling, pulling you in or trying to make a home inside of you for it. John’s biceps tense with the strain of holding himself back.
You balance on the knife’s edge between pleasure and pain. There’s a single thought in your head that it might burn you up from the inside; it runs a jagged hole through you.
His nose drags through your hair. “Never expected you. Thought I’d go another season alone ‘till I started smellin’ you around town.”
You hiccup. “Y’never—never paid me any attention ‘for— before, ah—”
“‘Course I paid attention to’ya, honey,” John says into your ear, grunting when he drives deeper into your pussy, still just a languid grind of his hips, so mind-numbingly slow that your thoughts sizzle out of your head. He keeps dragging his hips back and plunging in, barely pulling away from you, all skin on slick skin. “Made a home for m’self in your house. Made sure we had ‘nough to eat for the winter.”
“The winter?”
“Won’t be goin’ anywhere for a few months.” He brushes your hair out of the way to kiss down your neck, giving in to the urge to bite just a little. His body stays pressed tight to yours, hardly an inch of space between the two of you. “Wasn’ sure at first if it’d be here or in your house so… fuck, I had to get ready. Make sure you’d be safe when it hit.”
“Don’ even…know wha’ that means,” you mumble into the mattress, then squeal and fist the fists when John shoves a hand under you to grope your chest.
“Don’t worry about it,” he shushes you. “All y’have to do now is lie there ‘n take my cock, okay, honey? Can’ya do that for me? I’ll get some food in you after we’re done, then send ya back to bed.”
Only a whine comes out when you open your mouth. John’s arm by your head forces you to breathe in the scent of him, musky and rich. You stare at the hair on his knuckles and his thick fingers gripping the sheets as well, old nicks and scars decorating his hand. You can’t stop staring at his fingers and thinking that he had one of those in you before, that he’s felt you from the inside.
He never pulls away, never changes positions, just fucks you on your tummy in his bed. You’ve never been in John’s bedroom before, but this has to be his room—even the pillowcase smells like him, pine needles and cigar smoke. He keeps up a steady pounding into your cunt, rutting like a wild animal. Has to be close. Gets so close to you that you feel smothered, trapped in place. Like if you struggled, he wouldn’t let up. You want to test it, see if you could, but the heaviness is still in your limbs, keeping you docile. Convenient. A little convenient thing for him to use, like a doll to get himself off with.
“Never coulda imagined such a pretty girl f’r me,” John groans, getting a grip in your hair to twist your head, tugging you into a kiss. Your whole body sparks to life, so shocked that you can’t even kiss him back at first. You wait until he pulls back, staring into his half-lidded eyes through the mess of your hair all tangled up around you. “Gave up on thinkin’ there was anyone out there. Thank fuck I found you first, honey. Can start workin’ on all the good stuff now. Get you to give daddy a baby.”
“D-daddy?” you gasp back, almost scandalized.
He pants into your shoulder, worked up now. “Yeah, honey. Don’ I take care of you? Buy y’r food, fix y’r house? Give you someplace nice ‘n warm to sleep?”
You feel soaked with sweat, twitchy, on the verge of something dangerous. Vision all fogged up, heart beating so fast that your skin buzzes. Stretched out on a fat cock and pinned in a man’s bed, nowhere to run or hide.
“Y-yeah,” you stutter when John gets a bit rougher, his breathing getting more staggered, laboured.
“That’s right, girl,” he grunts, “I’m y’r fuckin’ daddy then, aren’t I?”
Magma bubbles up from deep inside of you. Rockslides off in the distance beat against the ground. When you cry out, it gets lost in the rubble.
You stumble into the living room maybe hours later after using the washroom across the hall. Maybe a day later. It’s hard to say how many times the sun has risen and fallen behind the mountains. The clock face stares back at you uncomprehendingly.
Come drips out of you onto the floor. Thick droplets run down your inner thighs. John is still sleeping in the bed where you left him, snoring like a chainsaw. It must’ve been what woke you up. There’s no way of knowing how long it’s been since he first brought you home, since he left a mess in your pussy, which is still puffy and sore from rough use. You walk with halting little steps to try to minimize the ache.
You stare bleary-eyed around the room. It feels somehow different than the previous times John’s had you over; there are more throws and blankets draped over the couch, candles scattered around the living room with a lighter on the mantle.
There’s a fire roaring in the fireplace, blanketing the house in a layer of warmth. It makes you sluggish, stumbling forward only a handful of steps before the shaggy rug in front of the fire drags you back down to the floor.
“What’re you doing out of bed, pretty girl?” someone rumbles from behind you.
“Had t’pee,” you say, blinking. You try to rub the sleep out of your eyes unsuccessfully. “Why’m’I still so tired? It’s been…I slept so long…”
“C’mon, honey,” John says, coming up behind you and curling his arms around you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “Told you it was gonna be a long winter. Maybe just one more and then somethin’ to eat, okay?”
It’s easy to sink to the floor, so easy. Especially with the fluffy rug under your feet. Especially with the fireplace toasting you from the outside in, the tinder crackling in the hearth. Everything in the house is dark and warm, only the fire giving you any light at all. Outside the window, the moon is still heavy in the sky.
Something about the humidity of the den makes you suddenly so tired, boneless, pliable when he goes to move you, when John curves himself around you in the furs and reaches down to slide a hand between your thighs.
He grunts when he finds you wet and wanting, sinking a couple fingers in and palming your clit. He doesn’t talk much still, but he says good girl when he cants your hips and slowly stretches you out on his cock. Feeds it into you achingly slow, like molasses. Like nothing’s due for another few months, so why rush it? He’ll take his time so you’re nice and happy and sweet come spring for cubs.
You’re not sure what that means. The pace is slow and deep, like before but less intentional. Like he just wants to savour the warmth of your body.
When he finally comes deep inside you, your body goes limp, collapsing in a heap onto the rug. You expect John to pull out and turn over, maybe pull you onto his chest so you have somewhere to rest. Instead, he sighs all tired and content, and stays in you, still plugged up in your cunt, his spend only just starting to leak out into a pool beneath you.
“Are we gonna eat?” you mumble, already half-asleep.
Somewhere behind you, he laughs; it’s soft like a snowfall in winter. “Yeah, honey. After a nap, we can eat.”
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