jai

22// im literally losing my mind

[soliqz]

[lunebrew]

getting sent a recording of your own voice whining about not wanting him to go when you text him to fuck off

[bugsyverse]

wearing an itty bitty little dress in public and you reach your arms up to hug him and he puts his arm around your waist and on your ass to hold the dress down so it doesn't ride up 😞

[guiltfactory-moved]

this lamb keeps trying to sacrifice itself even though no one really needs or wants it to do that

[toptierass2]

[pup-purgatory]

[ruesdeluxe]

[killxthexnoise]

[violentlyperverted]

[izlerm]

[amaranthinespirit]

neighbor!simon riley and the mundane tasks he does to make things easier for you

when you first moved in, you were wary of the big, brute of a man that lived next door. you'd seen him, for the first time, taking his trash to the end of his driveway for the garbage truck to pick up while movers lugged boxes and furniture inside your house. he spared a single glance, offering a nod at your small wave before retreating into his house.

you thought that was that.

for weeks, you lived without any interaction. settling into your new home, coming back and forth between the hardware store and your house for new projects. taking out your trash before you go to work. you'd seen him take out his own trash once, but you watched from your window, so he never noticed.

you felt weird doing it. watching the thick muscles of his biceps flex against his filled out sleeve, dusting his veiny hands on his jeans before adjusting his balaclava. you wondered why he wore it, but you moved on. you'd likely never interact.

until a couple weeks later, you had arrived home with new groceries. a lot of them. it would take multiple trips that would make your arms ache.

you barely opened your trunk when a dark mass appaeared at your side. you gasp in surprise, head craning. damn, he was taller than you thought.

without a word, he reached in and grabbed at least ten grocery bags with ease. it didn't even seen to bother him as he carried it into your garage and to the door. he didn't struggle to open the door, inviting himself in and leaving you dumbfounded.

what the hell?

the next time his weird behavior manifested was when you were at work. you got a notification from your doorbell camera about some movement, expecting a salesperson or jehovah's witness. instead it was your neighbor—the one who's name you still don't have.

he carried a tackle box, and you were about to speak to ask what he was doing when something compelled you to just watch. he seemed to take apart something on your porch, taking and replacing a piece of the light before screwing it back. he left without a word.

when you got home, your porch lights shined brighter than before—they were dim and on the verge of burning out. why would he do that?

you wanted to confront him, but you appreciated these small things. he still appeared out of thing air to take your groceries in, leaving before you could thank him.

he even started pulling out your bin for you, sitting it at the end of the driveway and dragging it back to the garage when the truck came by.

it perplexed you. why was he doing this for you? did he do it for his other neighbors? he had to, you couldn't be that special.

so you continued living life, welcoming the small actions as they made everything easier. besides, you enjoyed the company, even if he never said a word to you or looked in your direction.

the first time you approached him was on the drive home when a light appeared on your car's dashboard. you had no clue what it meant, though you probably should've. when you arrived home, you debated taking it straight to the autoshop, but instead you tried your luck with your neighbor. he likes to help, so you're guessing he wouldn't mind.

with a soft knock to his front door, you stood waiting patiently, and wait you did. a few minutes later, you contemplated turning back because he wasn't answering the door despite being home (his car was in the driveway).

just as you turned, the front door creaked open, revealing your neighbor clad in nothing but a white towel around his waist, balaclava shoved on haphazardly. his chest glistened with water as it glifed down his skin. oh fuck.

you could barely keep your eyes off his toned chest, abs flexing under your gaze before they snapped back to meet his dark ones. he lifted his brow in question.

"uh, hi." you said awkwardly, rocking on your feet. you hadn't even properly introduced yourself to the man, mostly because he disappeared so quick that you didn't have the chance. "a light came on in my car, and I was wondering—"

the door shut mid-sentence. it left you dumbfounded, mouth hanging open in shock as you stare at the door like it may open again. maybe his generous actions ended at bringing the groceries in. maybe he didn't want to get dirty after just showering. you couldn't expect the man to be ready to help any time you needed it.

after a minute of contemplation, you turned to walk back down the path. you'd have to get it to the mechanics and figured out how much it'd cost you.

when you reached the last step, the door opened again. still shirtless but now looping a belt around his jeans, he walked out, bare feet padding on the concrete. he nodded to your house, signaling you to lead.

you lead him back, hand him your keys and let him do his thing because now you get a free show. his muscles flex as he works under the hood, dirtying himself in a way that's sinful. after a while working in the hot sun, you go inside and bring back a drink, which he gratefully accepts—still without saying anything.

he's a bit weird, refusing to talk to you, but he's fixing your car so you can't complain.

"is this your official uniform to fix all your single neighbor's cars?" the words slip out before you can stop them. mortification warms your face, but it forces a deep chuckle from your neighbor, whose eyes crinkle under his mask.

he glances up at you, dirt smearing his skin. "only the pret'y ones."

your heart flutters. his voice was deep, gruff, like he smoked cigarettes, but it was satisfying to hear.

"so you do talk." you tease whilst biting back a smile. you'd finally gotten words out of him. a small victory. "what's your name?"

"simon."

"really? you look like a greg."

he shakes his head with a smile and continues working, leaving the two of you in silence. what you don't know is that simon's heart is nearly pounding out of his chest. it's beating so hard, he's worried he'll break a rib.

simon has been working up the courage to say anything to you every time he helps you, nervous as hell to talk to his pretty neighbor who he likes to help. hell go home and think about that interaction for days—or until you ask for his help again.

[anobodycalledlynn]

Ayo—! Free show! 😂

(Damn... Not the biceps,,, 💗)

[bfbkg]

having sex with katsuki and he’s just extra sensitive that day, feeling every emotion so much so he’s basically making love to you at this point

he doesn’t notice it himself at first but, he starts praising you in japanese and it catches you off guard but also turns you on ten times more lol

this is a big nom nom nom to me. big nom nom nom. i was saving this to potentially write but we can talk about it.

defo missionary right. and it’s all slow and SENSITIVE and he’s noisy above you. grunting and groaning. moving hair out of your face so he can look you in the eye. asking him to adjust your leg to put on his shoulder and he’s deep and you’re about it to start crying and wailing about how much you love him.

and it’s not like anything crazy has happened today. he hasn’t seen you in two days and he had a long draining day at work and more draining days to come and he’s missed you. needs to let off this stress. you were all over him, can never get enough of his pretty face and all that he does for you.

and maybe it starts in english like he always is with you. it being your shared language after all. the usual, “i love you so fuckin’ much.” then “shit, feels so good.” “needed this, baby.” “hmm?” “doin’ so well for me.” then he’s making these incoherent sounds. kissing your moans away and nodding to everything you say.

and you’re not sure what exactly makes him switch but it’s when he buries his head in your neck. nipping the thin skin there, bending your legs, deep inside you feel as if he’s in your stomach. now you’ve got no clue what he’s saying. you know it’s his language though.

you only realise after the second phrase. blinking away your watery eyes as you rock into him, crossing your legs tighter around his back.

then he’s mumbling something else. another phrase. repeating a sentence twice into your neck.

you mostly hear him speak it over the phone. to his parents, family and his childhood friends. sometimes the lady at the local asian supermarket. video call meetings with his agency back in japan. sometimes a couple pet name in japanese if he’s feeling cute, he saves that for date nights.

but never during sex in your ear while he’s buried inside you. you clench and his breath hitches.

his voice is deeper, earthier. more natural and flows out without effort or second thought. you can’t even attempt to translate it. perhaps a swear in there somewhere?

“‘tsuki…. baby…,” you don’t mean to whine but there’s no way you can say anything right now and it doesn’t come out with pleasure attached.

he lifts his head up. droopy sleepy eyes, bitten lips. he replies to you with a thrust, one that has you arching your back.

“i don’t know what you’re saying!” you wail, linking your hands around his neck and your boyfriend blinks at you.

“oh s-shit,” he utters, taking hold of your hips to keep you still. it’s as if you can see the memory of a second ago replaying in his mind. “didn’t realise i did that.” then he laughs stuttered and hoarse, “you’ve got me fucked up.”

he drops his eyes to where you’re connected. his cock, coated in your wetness, sliding out of your core before he pushes back in again. your eyes flutter shut when he does, hand reaching out for him, “‘tsuki….”

“was sayin’ you’re beautiful and i love you and i love when we fuck.” he grins like a man insane, which he’d only say he is with how much he loves you. “never wanna leave here with you.”

you’re all breathy, chest rising and falling with an orgasm around the corner. “s-so sappy,” you manage to smile, eyes still closed to catch up, “felt like y-you were keeping secrets from me.”

he shakes his head, adjusts your leg on his shoulder. he needs to come soon also, he’s been holding it off for too long now. “never baby. lemme make you come.”

[d-o-m-i-n-a-z-i-o-n-e]

[pawghter]

𝐓𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄

• warningz jus 4 daddy kink & phat cock jack . ꒰ 1 . 1k wrdz ꒱

“That little pout . . . you think it’s gonna get you anywhere with me?”

Jack’s too soft on you. He’s been needing to work on that.

You’ve been huffing and puffing out these big, obnoxious gusts of air with your arms crossed while laying beside him since he’s woken up to find you wedged up against his side as though you have a point to prove. You’re not the best at voicing your needs. You both know that.

Every few minutes, you shift closer, bump the arm that holds his phone at chest level, and upon Jack not reacting, sigh louder, snatch yourself away to continue glaring at the television screen. You’re waiting for him to magically fix whatever’s wrong with you without saying a word. Jack doesn’t appreciate that.

When he finally turns his head to look at you over the edge of his wiry, 5.00 prescription glasses, his expression is stony in a way that showcases he’s been hip on your silly, little game for a while now.

“What’s goin’ on with you?”

That slight jut of your bottom lip sits rooted and firm. Your pout is never truly obvious, one wouldn’t even notice it if they’re not around you often, but Jack is. He can spot it from a mile away.

“Nothing,” you grumble.

“. . . Talk to me.”

“ ‘m fine, Jack. Gosh.”

Your words earn a sigh . . . then a quiet chuckle. You hear the soft sound of the legs of his glasses folding shut, his phone screen clicking black, and the both of them being set upon his nightstand. Warmth floods the pit of your stomach. Finally, you want to sigh.

“Yeah?” he murmurs. He doesn’t believe you. “Don’t sound fine.”

Jack watches you for a long second — trails his eyes up your smooth legs, thick thighs, tiny cotton shorts, and the hoodie you wear that displays the letters of the university you attend in bright, red letters. You’re so pretty . . . and such a pain in the ass sometimes. “ ‘ll let you try again,” he hums, voice lower now, still coated in patience, but clearly not feeding into your attitude anymore. “Properly this time.”

You simply shift, not saying a word.

Too fucking stubborn for your own good.

Jack tilts his head, studying you for a bit again before whispering, “C’mon . . . Sit up for me.”

You finally glance at him. His face is unreadable. “What?”

Slowly, almost tenderly, he adjusts you. Gets one strong arm beneath your back, twists you towards your stomach, places a hand between your shoulder blades to keep you from resisting and gets you situated directly on your belly. “Yeah,” he quietly says. “Like that . . . Tummy time.”

Instinctively, you shift and try to push yourself back up but his hand adds some pressure. “Mm-mm. Still.”

You make a small, frustrated sound into the mattress as your fingers curl within the sheets. “No fair,” you whine beneath your breath. “This isn’t fair, Jack.” He’s arranging the space around you — pillows shuffling. One’s carefully pushed beneath your hips, two are tucked nice and tight against the outsides of your thighs. It’s all meant to be supportive, for both you and him.

His reply is simple as his fingers start to slide your little shorts down, “I know.”

Your breathing hitches on each inhale as your earlier irritation already begins to blur at the edges. It’s getting harder to not give in, to not fall.

“Didn’t do anythin’,” you weakly whimper.

“Yeah, you did,” he says, voice volume matching yours. “This is what happens when you don’t talk. When you leave me guessin’ on what’s goin’ on with you. It’s not fair, I agree.”

One of his hands smooths up the skin of your back beneath your hoodie while the other’s fingers swipe between the sticky, little folds of your pussy. When you mewl, he sighs, “You’re okay.”

He’s moving, careful and slow — adjusts his residual limb and his leg on those pillows beside your thigh, gets a thumb hooked within the hem of his sweats, tugs it down far enough to allow his half flaccid dick to flop over it and spits into his palm to polish it over his thick shaft. The globes of your ass jiggle when he slaps it on them, three pats for each cheek. You feel the weight of him, solid and firm.

“Don’t move,” he mumbles, voice gruff as he adjusts his cherry capped tip against the hole of your cunt. You practically hold your breath until you feel it — him pushing inside. Your eyes clamp closed, eyebrows furrow, and your toes curl at that initial sting of pain. You’ll always feel it with him. His cock is too fat for its own good.

“. . Daddy, wait—“

He’s adjusting himself, closing his legs around yours to keep your thighs pressed tight together, leaning forward to enclose your face within the frame of his arms. “Always so needy, huh?” He mumbles while dragging the curve of his nose down your cheek. “Get so mean when you want some attention. I don’t understand it. What’s the logic in that?”

“I . . d-don’t know—“

He suddenly drops his hips . . lodging the rest of his dick inside the gushy, warm confines of your pussy within one, smooth thrust. You choke on your next inhale and find yourself squeezing your nails into the skin of his hand in utter shock. You feel the other pushing at the bottom of your chin, “Atta girl, head up.”

The rhythm of his hips falling down onto the plush skin of your ass is constant . . and loud. He wastes no time in forcing your pussy on taking him — pushes himself in past those walls as if he were annoyed with them from keeping you from gaping. “Oh my . . G-God,” you’re hiccuping as your feet twist around one another in some sort of self soothing effort. “P-Please, okay.”

“Daddy’s got that brain feelin’ fuzzy, hm? . . . Easy, easy, I got you.”

You’re a squirmer, but Jack can handle it. Each sink of his cock inside you has your cunt pushing out a little bit of cream. It gets to a point where he can feel the thick warmth of it packing at the base of his cock . . sticking up against the front of his balls that plop onto your twitching clit. He breathes out a heavy breath as he lifts himself onto his palms and spares a glance down at the view of your ass ricocheting off of his hips.

“ ‘s okay,” he mumbles, voice drowned out by the lewd, sloppy sounds of dick pushing into wet pussy and those precious, hiccupy moans jumping out from your throat in time with each pound. “You’reee okay, baby. I promise.”

[p96al]

Tumblr is for the artistic sex appeal

[gweilo100]

Soliana

[tojisteddy]

Coming Up Roses

cw: 18+ mdni, angst kinda comfort & smut, dub-con, heavy fauxcest, avoidant!reader, morally gray!John, dependent/kinda toxic! John, back shóts, dacrphilia, cúnnilingus.

previous, masterlist

John doesn’t like being ignored.

Not by text, not by call and definitely not physically. He gave you your space after the incident the other week. Figured it was for the best, let you calm down. Then You’d come to him ready to talk. He’d hold your hand, he’d tell you it was okay, hold you and reassure you like he knew you needed.

But you hadn’t even been in the house since the incident, not note, no nothing. Just gone. Smart enough not to block him though. He’s lucky he put that tracker in your phone, because he turned off your location. At some girls apartment on the southeast side of the city, Louisa Martinez— he’s seen her dropping you off. She doesn’t look bad, when you talk about her on the rare occasion- she doesn’t sound bad. John trusts you. He does, he does trust you. But for you to be alone, not with family- not with him when you’re like this. It’s not right.

John doesn’t like coming home to an empty house, doesn’t like that you’re not there sleeping on the couch while his portion you’ve set aside of dinner sits in the microwave, or eating some dessert half sleep at the island in the kitchen, or hearing your finger tap in the computer keyboard while music spills into the room ever so softly from your headphones. Misses your mid day call, your little text with a silly emoji. He hates being alone, and it puts him on edge. So maybe he was watching your every move. As long as he didn’t push. He knows you’re like your mother like that, a girl willing to drop everything to move on. If he pulls his end of the rope there won’t be any tug for it back, it will be left lifeless on the ground. Either you do the pulling, or, Price will cuff your foot the bed.

No- god, it’s not that serious… not right now, at least.

John won’t be left behind. Not like this.

Not when the issue can be fixed.

You on the other hand— you’d hate to face anything regarding it. Maybe if you squeezed your eyes shut hard enough the whole situation would disappear, things could go back to what they were.

You could probably hear your aunts saying, “you’re just like you’re damn mother”

You know that.

If you could go back and change the way you acted in front of John you would have. That little girl inside you is too scared to go back home. And be told off by John, or have him look at you with such disappointment, or him hating the idea of you.

You’d rather leave him first. It never hurts as bad when you do.

“So what? You’re gonna sit here and wallow in your situation?” Your friend, Kayla, asks, moving the chess piece on her side of the board.

“Price isn’t a situation- he’s… he’s more than that.” You try, knocking her white knight down and taking its place.

“He’s your mom’s ex boyfriend who’s your current boyfriend.”

“Not boyfriend.” You correct, cracking your neck, “Less than that, maybe.” It comes out more like a question.

“Your mom’s ex who’s not your boyfriend but more than sex partners? Am I getting that right?” She cocks an eyebrow at you, more than amused.

You let out a deep breath, okay maybe John is the situation.

But it wasn’t bad per se.

Chaotic good maybe. Being with Price, playing house made more sense did so much other shit you’ve been involved in. He made much more sense the ppl you fooled around with.

Fuck, it wasn’t even your mom you were afraid of. You could talk to her, she’d get over it. Probably. But it’s you and John- no- you. You were the problem, already ready to tear something newly built for the hell of it- for you’re own protection.

No— you were protecting John. The person who yells like that, who shoved John- that wasn’t you.

Fuck, it’s normally not you. Just with your ex.

But if it happened once- what if it- what if you did that—

It’s better this way, breaking up before it gets too heavy.

You’re used to it, used to breaking up with because you’re not “fun enough” or “pretty enough” or “too cold” so this should be a cake walk. But as the front door of the home you’d made with Price shut behind you— you’d never felt more sick.

Never felt more nauseous. Was potentially loneliness always this scary?

You could feel the gravity pulling you down with every step you take towards the movement you hear in the kitchen. John’s on his phone, a fresh bouquet of yellow tulips sag in a vase on the table and your heart swells.

Pitiful. You’re truly pitiful.

John stands up, his tired blue eyes softening the moment he sees you, “Hi sweetheart.”

“Hi.” You say breathless, you’re like a deer in headlights, wide eyed and nervous.

“I’ve been worried about you.”

“I know,” you see him shift from the other side of the kitchen, just about to come around the island. But you lift your trembling hand to stop him- if he were to come around now, come anywhere near you- what would have been the point of having those multiple pep talks to end this. You’d fold.

“I need to talk to you John.” You swallow, clearing your throat.

He nods, setting his phone face down, “I’m all ears honey. Know- know its been hard for you.”

To be here. To figure this out alone.

Why does he have to read you so well, your hand balls into a fist by your side, you breath out, “I’m sorry about last week, that kinda thing- it’s only when Devon push’s me like that, it’s the only way I know how to react- but I’m not- that’s not the kind of person I am.”

“Baby,” John tries, and it at snaps you out of yout ramble.

You suck in a hiccup, letting out an exasperated laugh, “I’m making excuses,” you hold your own hands together, “What I’m saying is- I’m sorry. And it wont be happening again.”

John’s lips are in line, he’s steady, “Tha love, for apologizing,” he begins, his finger taps on the kitchen counter, “But that was just in the heat of the moment, do you understand that?”

You don’t know that, you want to counter but it’s a step you can take to avoid. the palms of your hands are turning red form how tight your holding your own hands, avoiding his soft gaze.

“That’s why I needed to talk to you John, I don’t want something like that to happen again. That’s why I think it’d be best if we called it quits.”

There’s a stiffness that fills the air, so much so you don’t dare to let out the breath you’re holding in.

You continue, “I think it was nice being with you, but truth is, it’s a lot right?” You’re making light of this, too light, a small smile that doesn’t reach your eyes on your face.

“Don’t say that [+].” His voice is quiet as he shushes you. He runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head and leaning on the island for support, “You don’t mean that.”

Oh but you do, atleast your brain does, your hearts begging for you to take it back. But you won’t, this is for the best. “I know you’re a good man John, the way you’ve treated me, my mom, the people around us, you’re really kind. But the longer this goes on- this will get worse. It’s best to end it now while it’s not too deep.”

“ ‘Not too deep’” he repeats, harsher “And what does that mean for you, hm?”

It means the last three months together should be forgetful. This is an out.

He scuffs, shooting daggers, “Tell me the bloody truth, don’t fuckin lie to my face.”

“I just,” you swallow the lump growing in your throat, “I cant let myself get in another position of being let down.”

His eyes scan your face, realization of your words, “You think I would let you down?”

No.

“I know you would.” A beat passes, words falling into a whisper, as if you couldn’t force lies out anymore, but your eyes are glued to him, the ever so slight quiver in your eyes. You see his face drop, trying to make up for it, “I don’t think you’d mean it though.”

That one stung, more than it should, silence fills the air once more. John’s leaning against the counter now, arms folded over his chest, “ ‘Nd I’ve given you reason to think that?”

No. A thousand times over, no. You both know that. You shouldn’t even be comparing anyone else to John. But everyone leaves or forgets about you at some point, you’re never first on anyone’s list, they make mistakes and you’re left with nothing but apologies. It’s only natural for you to begin to think of accidents and the purposeful as the same thing.

You wipe the sweat from your palms on your dark denim jeans, your eyes finding anything else to look at in the space with air so tight it makes you want to scream.

Your mouth opens then closes again, John wants answers. Wants every reason to see a split between the two of you to make sense. You just want a breakup that’s clean cut, little no explanations, not the emotions that are being pulled out of you. This displeasure that sits on your shoulders. The excuse you’ve thought of is good, that you want John to get over your mom not with you, that he’s moving too fast. You’re moving too fast with him. The little dates or time spent hanging out and laughing at stupid jokes, sharing little pieces of each others lives with the other— they don’t mean anything when you’re a wreck of a person, anything you touch ending with the snap of your fingers. And if he won’t go peacefully when you’ve given him the chance, it’s only right to start a fire.

He calls your name, wanting your attention.

John’s not giving you a proper out, he’s thinking of you too highly of you, seeing too much potential that you know isn’t there— your eyes shut, shaking your head. Dissmissing his question.

“I’m saying you don’t have any reason to be here anymore John! All this is filling missing holes. You just miss—“

“Don’t-“ a warning.

“—You miss my mom and the life you planned with her and now youre left with the scrap: me. But we can’t play house forever. Can’t do shit with a scrap can you?” such nonchalance from your words, like they’ve already been set in stone, “You should go rebuild your life properly this time. Not with a simple pawn this time maybe.”

You’re not like your mother that way, your mother would have just left. When she gets angry or upset or wants a change in view— she’ll find an escape. Anywhere but where the issue is shell run to. Will leave a little text and go about her business like it never happened. You, on the other hand, you give someone a reason not to come back. Push and push, and push, saying exactly what someone doesn’t want to hear. Make the other person so angry they wouldn’t haver any reason to come see you again. Johns footsteps are heavy as he rounds the kitchen island to you, watching you take as many step backs before your back hits the chair of the kitchen table. He’s large and tall figure towers over you, domineering, his eyes are low as he looks at you. Letting out small chuckle that’s oozing with sarcasm, “You’re good at ticking people off kid, really good.”

The older man cups your face in his calloused hand, nodding like he’s fully understood you. Read every page of the book you are and understood it, where every error is and where they can and should be corrected. His thumb brushes over your pump upper lip, making you intake a sharp breath.

“Been too nice to you maybe- no- should’ve taught you better to watch your mouth. That’s what good Dad’s do, don’t they?” His words are hushed, not directed towards you but more so himself. John decides instead of making you pull for your relationship, he’ll wrap the rope around your ankles and drag you till you want to walk with him.

He hums, pressing his forehead to yours, “Gonna fix that for you love, ’s all you need.”

A push in the right direction, you get lost in your own head, poor thing, Johns all you’ve ever needed.

Needed Price to pull you close, give you such greedy kisses that make you weak in the knees, breathless. Your heart pounds so loudly every time your lips lock together, one hand around your waist while the palm of his other handrails from your spine to the nape of your neck, feeling the curls that lie there and around the back of your neck. Feeling the motion of you tilting your head to capture more of him. Like you’ve been starved of John for too long, YourLetting him carry you to the bedroom and spread your legs wide enough while he licks a stripe through your glistening folds with his tongue. Your bare thighs around his broad shoulders while he claw at ehe heels of the bed, letting John eat at your cunt like a mad man. French kissing your needy cunt so lovingly it makes your toes curl, he holds you still when he knows that gut feeling is building inside you.

“Mm- fuck- wait John-“ you whine out, fingers running through his greying brunette locks, pulling his head up from between your legs.

He pants out, beard already damp with your slick, “—You should be more honest with me baby, know I’ll take care of you.” His fingers haven’t stopped moving through, tips of his fingers dipping into your drenched hole that makes you purr so prettily.

“I am being honest- I just- just- ngh- fuck!” You throw your head back into the pillows when John finally inserts his thick digit inside your pussy, working your tight hole open.

Price’s wet lips meet your thighs, letting out a little growl out the way your pussy sucks in his finger, “Think too fuckin much, that’s the problem. Shouldnt be thinking about anything but me.”

You hiccup, grinding your hips into his hand and his face while he slowly thrusts his finger inside your gummy walls, “I can’t- we can’t- shit Price-“

“—There it is honey,” he croons gently, egging you on, “It’s only you and I, all you have to think about dove.” He trusts his digit inside you faster, watching the beautiful way your lashes flutter, the way your mouth falls open in the shape of an ‘o’ as you high builds. You can feel that small smirk of a smile brushing against your pussy lips, he holds his hand out for you to take it- inviting you.

“Wanna hold my hand, don’t you sweetheart?” He asks knowingly. It’s not snarky, no, it’s the small connection you long for John knows you want. And it makes the butterflies in your stomach flip. Johns always so sweet with you, never dismissive, so warm with every feeling he gives you. That he’s there for you with every step, it’s silly being this needy. Stupid acting this way when all you’ve done tonight was push at him. But all it takes is a burns of his fingers against yours that make you swoon, desperate for anything John wants to give you, interlocking each and every finger together as the older man dives deeper into your cunt, lapping every drop that falls from you. The sloshing sound of your wet pussy filling the room with your sultry moans. Adjusting you to the point your legs are wrapped around his neck, his grip on your hips tight to hold you down, nearly choking the man with your perfect thighs. His tongue wraps around your pulsing nub, moan out. Squeezing his hand harder as you mewl, letting him roll your clit on his tongue.

“Shit- Dad! Mmmph!”

He simply groans against you, the shake of your legs around him as you dampen his face with your cum. Every bit of euphoria washing over you while your climax hits you. He laps you up clean. Your weeping cunt still fluttering and pulsing as Price gently flips you over onto your stomach. your brown eyes look behind you, Johns there, panting, throws his shirt to the side and revealing his hairy and muscular chest, blue eyes low at he sees your gaping hole gaping and closing. He lets out a ragged breath, squeezing the fat of your ass to get an even better view. “So bloody pretty for me gorgeous, all I’d ever want is you.”

You watch him pull his large girth out, pulsing hot and red, mushroom tip leaking pre that makes you bite your lip.

“Price?” You don’t even know your words come out in a high pitched moan, desperate, big brown eyes flickering from his face, to his chest, and to his cock and back. God you’re sexy just like this, wanting, eyes glazed over and ready for the taking.

You feel him slap his tip against your hole, the wet plap, plap, plap it makes that makes your walls clench together, “Gonna give it t’ ya love, don’t worry.” John murmurs, needing the globe in his hand. He rocks you against him, his tip stretching you out just a little then popping back out, over and over. You let out an irritable whimper, hand pushing at his abdomen, “Don’t tease Price!”

The ends of his lips twitch upward, “You should tell Dad what you need me, hm?”

Another whine irrupted from your lips, biting hard enough to draw blood as you shoot daggers at the older man behind you. His tip sinks in your gushing hole once more then back out, smearing his pre on the folds of your pussy.

“Shit- fuckin annoying, should just quit at this rate.” You grumble, but your words don’t match your actions, wiggling your hips, hands gripping the sheets in anticipation.

“You’re lucky darlin’,” he cracks his neck, realigning himself against you, “Sooo lucky I need you just as bad today.”

John sinks into you inch by inch. Slow, letting you feel every bit and vein on him while he splits you open like no one ever could. Your toes curl, lashes fluttering at the sweet burn as he stuffs you full, but you hear a low curse as your eyes begin to water.

“Gonna cum one more time for me baby, need all ‘f me inside you.”

The way your walls clamp around him, glossy eyes find his, “’s Not all the way in already?”

Why were you being so cute right now? Only when your bodies all worn out, need that tender love and care. He feels the small amount between his pubic hairs at the base of his cock to your puffy pussy lips, “Just a bit more love, promise.”

John Price is liar, a good one, but a lair with that charming smile, that smooth voice. He rubs your clit in a circular motion with the pads of his fingers, your back to his front giving you half thrusts that make your eyes roll to the back of your head. You’re still sensitive, shaking in his hold, you can’t help but gasp and whimper at the feeling building inside you once more. “Daddy I- ’s too much, wait-“

John’s buzzing at your words, kissing your forehead and only pressing his fingers down harder, faster that he knows will get you off, that makes you restless, clawing at his hairy biceps. “Fuck!” Your teeth grind together, face pressed into the pillows, “Fuck you’re being mean Dad-“

“exactly what you wanted from me right?” He grunts, growing harder at the little sob of a moan you let out, giving your cunt a smack! Running his fingers through the mess you’re making then pinching your clit, “But you can take it f’me kid, be good f’me.”

John slides himself inside you till the hilt, both of you groaning in pleasure at the feel, how snug and tight your hugging his length. Not even giving you time to break, he’s fucking you through your orgasm. Slamming into you relentlessly, it’s filthy, rough the way his breeder balls slap against your pussy, soaking them with your juices. your ass claps abasing his happy trail with every thrust, a goddess like arch in your back while he feels every perfection in your spongy walls.

“Daaad, so big, it’s sooo- aah!” He try crawling up the bed but he only drags you back down his cock, intertwining your fingers at he manages to knock, knock, knock against your cervix, and pinning you to the bed while his lips nip at your shoulder.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he warns so condescendingly, “Don’t run from it doll, ’s all yours. Gotta learn to take it.”

Your curls are a mess, hair sticking to your skin as the room gets hotter, John putting his weight on you, making you feel every pound of his cock as he grinds his hips into yours. Your eyebrows knit together and only being able to let out keens of, ‘Dad, Price, Daaad’

“Been alone for so looong, kid,” his drawls his words out, feeling his weeping tip hit that sticky spot inside you that makes you yelp out, “needed t’ throw a little fit infront of Dad, tell your old man juuust how much you hate ‘em.”

An airy breath escapes him,’ brushing your curls over your shoulder, peppering kisses up your neck, admiring the work he’s giving your wonderfully bruised cunt, “S good for you. Us. Can show you just how much I love you. Love you more than anyone else honey.”

He’s lifting your face up with his hand, rough, his deep voice right in your ear as he starts to jackhammer into you, your nipples brushing against the bed every time he bottoms out. Tears spilling down your face while nothing but broken moans escape you.

“You want my time?” Another thrust, “Hm? I’ll give it all to you lovie. Need me to take all that worry away? Hah- won’t be going anywhere, I’ve got ya. Always gonna be right here kiddo.”

Fuck, and it does make your pussy flutter the way he talks to you, words so sincere you can’t help be fall for them, grasp onto every word that leaves his lips. You’re fucking creaming his length as his thrusts get frantic, ass rippling with every thrust, John lets out a deep groan, squeezing your hands, pluging into you franticly. “Shit, tell me who loves you Dovie? Hm? Talk to me.”

Youre a blubbering mess, bones “Y-“ your eyes roll back into your skull, whiney moan.

His hips roll, his tip kissing your g-spot at just the right angle, he purrs, “Who baby?”

You gurgle out, clenching around him “Mmm- You Dad, ’s you!”

John fills you deep, painting your walls white, with strangled groan, head falling on your shoulder as you holds you tight in his big arms. Making sure every single drop fills you, flattening your ass as he pushes it as deep as he can. He pants, sloppily kissing your lips,

“Good job kid.”

a/n: I’m so damn rusty, it wasn’t even supposed to be this long. 5/10. Lmk what you guys think. I’m sorry for the wait.