I lovee your work!! They’re so good!!
Can you make a smut of Dallas and reader having sex and she squirts for the first time (like towards the end of the fic) ?? Also reader is kinda shy (in general) I’m bad at explaining but basically I wanted to know if u can write a smut of Dallas and reader fucking and towards she squirts for the first time 😭
Summary: 'You’re not even sure how it got to this point, really - folded up and helpless in Dallas Winston’s room while he loses himself in your pussy, completely detached from reality and letting out sounds that would make a hooker blush.’
Pairing: Dal x shy!femreader
Word Count: 3905
CW/TW: unprotected pnv, dom/sub, squirting, degradation, established relationship (kind of), size kink/difference, overstimulation, dacryphilia, innocence kink, dirty talk, praise kink
A/N: thank you for the request! I have 3 more lined up, working on them rn and will get them out in the order they were received 🥹I appreciate all the prompts!
Also I keep forgetting to put in unprotected pnv in my CW/TW so I’ll start doing that - wrap it before you tap it! 💜
Cross posted to ao3 by me <3 enjoy xx
You are far, far out of your comfort zone.
You’re not even sure how it got to this point, really - folded up and helpless in Dallas Winston’s room while he loses himself in your pussy, completely detached from reality and letting out sounds that would make a hooker blush.
What should be happening right now is a conversation about boundaries and how your new entanglement with each other is going to work, especially given his promiscuous and unstable nature with women.
What shouldn’t be happening is everything he’s done to you since the minute you got here, which has currently landed you in a state of overstimulated suspension while you cry tears of ecstasy.
You two are polar opposites; you are the textbook definition of shy - a demure, sweet girl from a quiet, hardworking family who should know much better than to waste time with the likes of criminals and hoodlums. You graduated with honours and you cringe at the taste of beer, for Christ’s sake - you shouldn’t even be in a ten-mile radius of Buck’s place, let alone in bed with the town delinquent.
But by some miracle, he got you. Somehow, Tulsa’s most attractive jailbird and resident basketcase managed to ensnare you and currently has you squirming in his bed, a stream of obscenities continuously falling from your swollen lips while he absolutely ruins you.
“Ah-! S-s’too deep, Dally-!”
It doesn’t matter how smart or responsible you are in real life when you’re underneath him like this. In his bed, you’re a mindless harlot only capable of primitive thought and shameless desperation, soothed exclusively by his ministrations.
He’s currently got you pinned down towards the end of the mattress, standing over you with one of your legs tossed over his shoulder and the other held down by the back of your knee against the sheets. The position is exposing and overly intense for someone as inexperienced as you - he’s too big and it’s entirely too much.
You’re too small and weak with bliss to push against him, cunt leaking and squeezing him viciously as the thick head of him continues to abuse your cervix.
Dallas knows better than to heed your cries for mercy. Even if you’re new to all of this, it doesn’t make you any less susceptible to the effects; every single time he bottoms out, your gummy little walls contract around him like they’re just begging him to pump you full of his cum.
“You can take it,” he teases with a smack to your hip, words thick with condescension and lust, “s’right where it’s s’posed to be, baby.”
You can’t think when he talks to you like that.
A lot of him is intimidating, and for good reason; he’s so much more experienced than you in so many ways that it’s only natural to defer to his judgment. He’s everything you aren’t, in both positive and negative qualities. Irresponsible, brazen, hardheaded, irascible, stubborn, antisocial and cruel are all words that come to mind when you think of Dallas. But he’s also steadfast, intelligent, cunning, witty and brave in his own ways - things you have yet to grow into and wonder if you ever will.
He also hasn’t been wrong about what you will or won’t like.
You know it’s not ‘right’ for a guy to speak down to you, and your mama has always said to run away from anyone who treats you lesser than, but when Dallas talks to you in that patronizing tone, your brain goes blank and you listen.
You were a virgin when this all started not two weeks ago, blushing and squeaking at the mention of sex - and now here you are trembling and begging for him to never stop. It’s backwards and naive that instead of smacking him for treating you like a dumb little slut between the sheets, you cry and whine for more.
Case in point, you squeal when he tugs you back into place and tuts at you for wiggling. The begging comes only a few seconds later, after he lowers himself further over you and harshens the angle so each one of his thrusts land deeper. It forces you to stretch and cant your hips up more, burgeoning you with mind-numbing oversensitivity and immediately pulling you right to the threshold where pain and pleasure meet.
You writhe in his hold and let out a keening whine, a series of sobs following and intermingling with your cries for more just seconds after.
“O-oh! P-please don’t stop!”
“Which one is it, sweetheart?” Dallas snickers and gives you the illusion of choice, “make up your mind, I ain’t got all day.”
You don’t need to choose.
“Mmmhh - I want it, wantitplease don’t s-stop!”
He smiles like he’s in on some joke you don’t understand and pulls you into a kiss, swallowing your following cries as the motion folds you further.
He’s just…big. There’s no getting around that. When he popped your cherry it took him a ludicrous amount of petting and patience to get you close to being able to take his cock, and even after an hour of teasing it was another fifteen minutes until you were fully speared on him. After two weeks, you’ve finally come to accept that there isn’t any easy way around his size.
And of course, in typical Dallas fashion, he uses it to his advantage.
His arrogance would be annoying if it wasn’t so enjoyable, and right now is a good example; he keeps rubbing up on that one spot inside you that feels much too sharp, though its sensitivity is muted among the backdrop of overwhelming pleasure. He also hasn’t let up for the better part of twenty minutes, annihilating any rational train of thought and virtually promising you won’t be able to walk properly once he’s through with you.
“Hnngh-” a particularly toe-curling thrust has you hiccuping into another sob, “g-gonna break m-me…”
You can physically feel him throb at the sight of your tears, “M’gonna break you? Yeah? Think I already did that, doll. Split you open and you’re still beggin’ for more.”
His throaty words go straight to your cunt, and it clamps down harder around him. The stretch of him is still present despite the copious amounts of slick you’re leaking and continue to produce, making everything sweeter.
Maybe you’re some kind of masochist, you think hazily, given the way that you seem to enjoy a little agony with your pleasure.
You just can’t shut up. A continuous stream of needy cries and sobs pour from you, mixing together with noises that sound like you’re nearly in pain. Your teary eyes are focused on him in intense disbelief, all wide-eyed and innocent and overwhelmed.
It drives Dallas insane. Something about the way you lose yourself in him, handing over your brain and body in its entirety, is unequivocally endearing to his cold, dead heart. Every single noise, expression and reaction to him is nothing short of addictive, like you’re a test that’s been sent from above to gauge whether or not he’s capable of holding such perfection in his arms without ruining it. You’re an absolutely marvellous thing to take apart and destroy, and he didn’t even have to do that much convincing or seducing to get you to this point.
He’s already made the unanimous decision that he’s going to keep you, because between all of the teasing and desperation and libido, he finds that you’re the one person who quiets his nervous system.
Right now, though, you’re pushing the button in his mind that screams for him to lose himself in you until you’re nonverbal and stuffed full. He has this vision of you that somehow ends up coming true every time he’s had his filthy way with you - cheeks red, lips swollen, eyes glassy, naked as the day you were born and dripping his cum, like some beautiful little angel he’s desecrated into a tragic, hedonistic version of itself.
Dallas mouths along your clavicle, “Look so fuckin’ perfect like this, baby. Y’like when I fuck you all dumb ‘n helpless, huh?”
You’re long past the point of blushing and stammering at his dirty talk, but you still feel the heat rush to your face because you’re just not used to someone speaking to you like this.
The sob you let out in response is nothing short of ravaged, “Please!”
Your begging sends heat slicing through his system, viciously coiling at his core and making him groan roughly.
“Needy girl,” he laughs into your throat before biting down on it and soothing it with his tongue seconds later, “sound so goddamn good. Ain’t a single thought in your head but my cock, s’that right?”
Forming words is a tall ask right now, but you think you manage to come up with something that vaguely sounds like an ‘uh-huh’.
Whatever boiling point you reached long ago has rendered you nothing more than a weeping, limp version of yourself, so you don’t fight him when he readjusts his angle. It makes it worse; the spot that feels far too sensitive is now getting a significant amount of attention, and the trajectory and size of him guarantees you’re going to lose it in the next twenty seconds or less.
All you can hear amidst your greedy cries and his gravelly low murmurs is the obscenely slick sound of your pussy trying its best to take him whole, even if you both know full well he can’t fit all the way inside you.
Thick, heady want settles into you and curls in your gut. You’re right on the cusp of it, teeming with that restless almost-there energy that hits right before the drop, and he fucking slows down with a wicked grin.
Desperate and betrayed you keen up at him, recognizing the familiar look of smug satisfaction every time he pulls an orgasm from you.
“Pleasepleaseplease Dal,” you spare no time before beginning to beg, “wanna cum…m’so close, please-!”
“So greedy,” Dallas hums, groaning low in his chest, “what if I just keep ya like this? Love seein’ you get all desperate for me.”
You wail at the threat, voice cracking on a sob as you cry for release, “N-no!”
“Can’t even do nothin,” he teases cruelly, “just gotta keep takin’ it, sweet thing. Such a good fuckin’ girl-”
Heat consumes you, making you dizzy and slurring the rest of your words.
“Need t-ah! N-need t’cum, please make me cum-"
Something cracks in him at your begging, because behind a veil of tears you see his jaw clench and his eyes shut for a good second or two. When he opens them again to peer down at you, there‘s fresh resolve in them.
You to feel him throb harshly, “Fuckin’ Christ-”
With a famished gaze he resumes his normal pace, just as gone as you are.
“Drivin’ me crazy, doll. You wanna cum? Go on, cum your pretty lil brains out.”
In half an hour, when this is all over and you’re dozing off in his chest, you’ll recognize this degradation as the moment of impact. Right now, though, you feel like someone has just punched you in the hindbrain and turned you into a vegetable.
“Dal-!” You can do nothing but stare up at him as you go completely soft and limp and pliable, “m’cumming-”
Unfiltered energy burns through your system all the way from your gut to each extremity, loading you up like a little electric charge and arc flashing at your core.
It ignites at the tensest possible point, wracking your frame and making your cunt spasm. It feels like you’ve been edged for days, and now he’s just spent the better part of a half hour rubbing against the spot inside you that feels like your clit on the inside of your pussy.
“That’s it,” he chokes at the feel of it, “there y’go. Atta girl. Goddamn-"
Every single muscle in your body seizes and pulses at once, rhythmically contracting around him in a subconscious biological effort to suck him dry. It renders you mute with its power, body unable to curl in on itself with the way he has you flayed open underneath him. The reminder of your helplessness just makes you flare hotter.
Relentless wails echo in your ears for several moments too long before you realize they’re yours and viciously try to taper them off, only for Dallas to scold you and tilt his hips to refresh the angle.
“Keep that fuckin’ mouth open,” he scolds, removing your leg from his shoulder so it can join the other’s identical position, “wanna hear it when I fuck you dumb.”
His efforts loosen your lips up entirely, and with a start you realize he’s not slowing down. Usually he’ll relent, cum with you, or give you a minute to recover - but he hasn’t stopped moving and the pace is just as brutal if not worse than before.
The orgasm is harsh enough that it’s still making you tense and twitchy, so you whine up at him in a wordless plea for leniency.
“I know baby,” he coos in that malicious sweet tone as he briefly steals your lips, “I know. Fuck, y’get so tight when you cum…gonna gimme another one.”
Even though they daunt you, the words send a shiver down your spine. The flames of your previous peak are still lapping at you, and you are too unfamiliar with sex to recognize this state for what it is: the definitive crossroads between whether or not you’re going to cum multiple times and be absolutely unable to stand afterwards.
All you know is that it feels like he’s keeping you on the fringe of losing it again, unable to properly come down, and that sweet feeling of release is turning into something much more cutting.
You shake your head, “C-can’t-“
“Yeah y’can,” Dallas pants, immediately interrupting as he laps at your jaw, “got plenty more left in ya. Doin’ so good f’me.”
As per usual, he’s right. You can feel the tendrils of another orgasm creeping up on you, even if the general sense is that it’ll be a slightly uncomfortable one with how overstimulated you are. Still, it’s only natural for you to complain when you try new and imposing things.
“T-too much,” you wail, sniffling and pouting up at him for mercy, “s’too big, Dal…”
He groans at that, sucking a dark mark into your throat before trailing back up to your lips.
“Too big? You’re takin’ all of it, doll,” he sighs into your mouth, “m’gonna keep y’stretched out on me like this forever, s’too goddamn good.”
The idea of him continuing to fuck you like this for the foreseeable future leaves you starved for more, and you acknowledge far too late that if he meant to seduce you into becoming an addicted little cum junkie, he’s already succeeded.
The need he induces is blinding. It takes over every sense you have and leaves you only with hunger. It’s what makes your throat close around another sob, swallowed up whole by the man above you.
“Keep cryin’ for me darlin’,” Dallas murmurs, nosing your temple and speaking low into your ear, “all those tears ‘n your lil pussy can’t stop squeezin’ me.”
You twitch in his arms with an angelic little cry, and he spares no time laughing under his breath at you for it. He loves this.
His next question is spoken clearly, but you almost miss it with how out of sorts you’ve gotten and how distracted you are by the filthy noises your pussy is making.
“Mmmmngh-” you’re whining, initially unable to respond until he urges it from you.
“Hey-” he rises above you and takes one hand to your face, holding it steady, “answer me.”
Even in the throes of hyperstimulation, your sweet, cockdrunk little brain doesn’t know any better than blind faith. You gaze up at him, transfixed.
A sluggish nod accompanies your shaky affirmation, “Mm-mnhm…”
“Mm,” satisfied, his hand drops from your face and pinches a nipple before trekking further downwards, “you shouldn’t.”
You don’t have time to clarify what he means before he takes one warm hand and presses down hard onto that spot on your stomach where the tip of him visibly protrudes.
Beside yourself with agonizing pleasure, you absolutely wail.
The first time you’d seen the physical evidence of how big he was inside of you in the shape of a bump on your tummy, you’d squirmed something fierce on his lap while he cursed and tried to hold you still so he could appreciate the sight.
He’s since become used to exploiting that sight and spot - both for visual gain and for the purpose of flooding your brain, which in this instance works miraculously well.
The added pressure on that little spot you’ve forgotten the name of is too much - you feel like a dam about to crack and collapse, helpless to fight against any of his efforts. If you could, you’d probably fawn to them anyway.
A starved moan escapes you when you feel the incoming rush of release rapidly build in you, spurred on by his neverending pace and aim. It’s downright impressive that he manages to hold out for as long as he does, you think blearily, because this feels too fucking good on your end.
Just as quickly, though, his large hand becomes a tad too imposing and something starts to feel a little off.
Terror settles in when the orgasm starts to feel abnormal - much too sharp and pressurized rather than that comfortable bliss you’ve grown so familiar with the last two weeks.
“Ah! Wait, Dal-! W-wait-”
You try to wiggle away, unable to succeed in any kind of escape or respite as he holds you down.
It almost feels like you’re going to pee, and though you know that this can’t possibly be the same thing it still makes you panic. It’s borderline uncomfortable with how it nearly burns in intensity, but Dallas doesn’t seem to be worried about it at all.
“Don’t fight it,” he urges without letting up his pace, “cum for me, darlin’. Don’t gotta be scared.”
He sees your fear and can’t hide his secretive little smirk or the way his eyes light up with mischief, elated that his hidden agenda has come to fruition and that he gets to see you fall apart in such a manner. The whole point of folding you in half and pushing you to such heights was to see if you’d be capable of exactly what is about to happen.
You stutter and falter, trying and failing to stop the freight train of mutated bliss coming your way, “C-can’t…I can’t - somethin’s dif-”
“Yeah y’can, don’t tap out on me now,” Dallas groans low and throaty when you start clamping down on him, “I gotcha, doll. Cum.”
“B-but-” you’re too far gone to formulate the proper words, and he capitalizes on it.
“I know baby,” he’s switched on that voice again, virtually ensuring your demise, “God, you’re so fuckin’ tight…you got it, jus’ like that. What’d I tell ya? Don’t fight it, sweet girl - there y’go, fuck-”
“Dal-ohmyGod…” your words are a mere whisper in the air before you go stupid.
Whatever this is can’t be stopped, and it hits you like a two-by-four to the prefrontal cortex.
You positively shriek and jerk in his hold, trying and failing to hide your face in his chest. He keeps you splayed out before him as you burst and cum hard, body attempting to curl in on itself like a beetle and finding only him as resistance.
This time is even worse than the last; the crest of it hits deeper, and you can’t even open your eyes with how heavy it hits your nervous system. You’re a little more lucid though, even if you can’t entirely control your body.
That’s part of what makes you panic. The other part is what you feel happening in your cunt, something you’ve never had any experience with and that immediately accents your cries with alarm.
Every time your pussy clenches around him, you feel bursts of wetness jump from you and make a mess, absolutely soaking you both and the sheets below. Trails of it leak down your ass and rapidly form a puddle beneath you, joining the rest of your cum that’s been pooling.
“Fuck yeah, make a mess, baby-”
Apparently unsurprised and having planned on this, Dallas pulls back and holds you open to reap the spoils.
From underneath him you twitch violently as you gasp and cry out, wondering if this is at all normal or safe. It feels so good it should be damn near illegal, shutting the rational part of you down and obliterating you with pure elation.
He’s made a ruin of you, turning you into a needy, sloppy, silly little animal, and he looks utterly thrilled with himself as you shatter around his cock.
When your system calms and the frantic, milking pulses of your cunt cease their urgency, you’re finally able to speak around a dry mouth and a heavy gulp.
At your bewildered expression, Dallas laughs quietly and lowers himself to soothe you.
“Squirted all over me, sweetheart,” he mutes your apprehensive whimpering with another kiss, “got me soaked. Hottest shit I’ve ever seen in my life, Jesus.”
His explanation makes little sense to you - you don’t know what squirting is, why it feels so strangely intense, nor why it necessitates so much wetness - but you take his words and tone at face value for what they are. Try as you might to ease the meek look off your face, you can’t help your general shyness let alone your bashfulness surrounding this kind of stuff.
But Dallas is obsessed with it - he’s still hard and heavy and filling you to the brim, now throbbing more steadily against your swollen cervix like a warning of what’s to come.
It reminds you that this is far from over, even if you think you might actually explode if you’re forced to cum again.
But by nature you are submissive and tend to yield, especially to folks like Dallas - and that goes triple when he’s the subject of your affections.
He’s just as enthralled by you, though, which is why he won’t take his claws out of you just yet - even when you level him with a pleading, puppy-eyed look that begs for a moment’s rest.
Dallas grins, breathless and wild, entirely unwilling to give you a break. Now that he knows how far he can push you, he’s going to figure out how to get you to said point every single time he’s buried in your weeping little pussy.
You look up at him like he’s a divine saving grace, asking yourself how much and in how many different ways you would let him obliterate you in the name and sake of this consecrated absolution.
“Don’t gimme those big sad eyes, babygirl,” Dallas laughs darkly as he presses your legs back down and slowly starts to fuck in and out of you again, “I ain’t nowhere near done with you.”
Endlessly and in every way are the answers you’re looking for, you admit to yourself as he drives more soft, syrupy noises of sin from you.
And you’ll let him keep metamorphosing you, over and over and over again.
A/N: I need to get laid 🤦♀️
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