the crossover you werent expecting
lord let them kiss

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the crossover you werent expecting
lord let them kiss
rusty nail + bo sinclair x reader who is orally fixated hcs 𓂃ෆ˚
warnings:
tags: reader has mentioned boobs,
a/n: love me some orally fixated reader
ITS FINALLY HAPPENING!!!!!!!
gn!reader using their safeword with rusty and bo? ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
⭐️ bo sinclair
╰┈➤ i guess itd really depend on his overall opinion about you… like if you were actually someone he considered his equal or just another toy to him. not that he wouldnt stop— just more so how he would generally react.
if youre not necessarily that important to him, hes probably not gonna ask whats wrong or try and fix it; he’d just pull out and be overdramatic with it. heavy sighs and grumbles like the brat he is (¬_¬")💢 hes gonna be focused on his pleasure rather then yours. but, you guys have a safeword for a reason…and what kind of man is he if he doesnt stick to his word?
if youre his equal? hes not gonna shower you in total affection since that selfish part of him still exists, but hes not gonna make it super obvious. give you some kisses here and there and pats on your butt like youre a dog needing reassurance. he’ll clean you up atleast, which is kind of him…i guess? he’ll tease the hell out of you, though. “awww, thought you could handle it. whered allat that confidence go, huh?”
someone super duper ultimate close with him? hes peppering you in kisses and affection. apologizing relentlessly and moving the pillows around to make you more comfortable. you only deserve the best! patting you clean and dry with a rag carefully, making sure not to jostle you from whatever it was you two were doing. maybe he’ll eat you out/suck you off to make up for it later, if you bitch about it enough.
⭐️ rusty nail
╰┈➤ hes the more silent type, i think. hes not gonna get on his knees and beg for forgiveness or go all out on aftercare, but he surely is more of a gentleman then bo. it doesnt matter what you are to him. he has to be respectful! its how his mama raised him. so yeah, if youre in pain whimpering out your safeword, hes gonna stop and not bitch about it, because why complain if you can make a change? y’know?
he’ll get you on your side and a glass of water maybe, cuddle up with you and a blanket, turn on a tv show you like…maybe just let you sleep if thats what you want. all that matters to him is that youre comfortable. whatever you want, he’ll get it for you. heat, compression, alone time, a nice bath… just tell him and hes on it like a sleeper agent.
he’ll give you praise, telling you how good you were for him and that youre his special little thing. “so good to me, huh? you like being good?” giving you some nice, gooood kisses along your neck and collarbone if its cuddle time. you’ll have to be careful if you have boobs, though. because if you do he is sucking on those things and kissing them until theyre sensitive.
he’ll massage you wherever it is youre sore. back or thighs? his giant bear paw is immediately going to work. its a very nice feeling, just ignore it if he at somepoint gropes your butt.
let him whisper sweet nothings to you in that deep voice of his. pure praise and adoration because it is all you deserve from him and what he wants to give you. if hes pulling his pants down for you in the first place you bet your ass he is willing to do other things for you.
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I'm having thoughts.. bo sinclair putting fem!reader into a mean chokehold w his biceos while fucking her from the back :333
a/n: can we please share thoughts ???? :3
you sent this at a lovely time 🥹 im writing some hcs including bo as you sent this so go check those out after u read this
thank u so much for requesting !! :3 enjoy <3
Saw the Flame; Tasted Sin .˚εїз⁺˚✿˖°
summary: youre being a bit of a brat, just a bit. youre also kind of a masochist, who wouldve thought?
warnings: pure filthy smut, choking
tags: afab reader <3
w/c: 1,145 <3
Bo was strong.
Watching the way his arms would flex when he lifts something heavy; or the huff that exhales from his lungs when he stands up. His hands smothered in oil as he works on a car, the way his hands wipe the smudges away with a rag—
You noticed. You noticed it all.
And it was especially noticeable when he has you pressed against the sheets, your hips perched atop a pillow. His hands— those strong hands you adored were gripping your hips, keeping you pinned in place.
His hips snapped harshly against yours; low growls being pounded out of him. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a drooling mess beneath him, the way his cock filling you up satisfied a deep need that’d been burning under your skin since he showered that morning.
A particular rough thrust had your back arching further into the bed, a moan working its way up your throat— one that you choked on when his chest suddenly shoved against your back.
Confused, but only for a moment— he slides his muscular bicep underneath your collarbone, letting it rest and press against your neck. He tugged you backward, forcing you back against his chest.
It’s more like an embrace; the way his arm fits so comfortably around you— just at first before he pauses his hips in place. You whined, a hand clapping against his hip like you were willing him to move again.
He let out a low growl, his breath fanning over your cheek, faintly smelling of bourbon and orange juice. He chuckled, snapping his hips harshly, skin slapping in a way that had tears pricking your eyes. He didn’t pick up the pace— Instead, he only lets you feel the way he slips in and out of you.
It’s not enough for you, and he only chuckles again at knowing that. “Aww, sweetheart…” He muttered against your ear, his voice sending shivers down your spine and directly to your core.
The flutter your body produced around him had his breath hitching; hips twitching like he wanted to keep drilling into you— but he wanted to have some fun.
Just a little bit.
“C’mooonn, baby, tell me what you want.” He rasped, grinning slyly. That same grin you just wanted to fucking punch when he made you feel like this—
He cuts your thought off with another jostle, your thighs quivering and entirely depending on his frame to keep you up right. You hissed through your teeth, brows knitting in frustration. He was trying to encourage you to speak up— to just ask for it. He’d give it to you, he would!
But your stubborness only resorted to giving a sigh, almost refusing to give him what he wanted. You’d been good all day— all fucking week; waiting up for him and watching him sweat through his coveralls since Monday. You earned this, earned your reward—
But he just tsked, still not moving. “You seriously want to act up now?” He murmured “of all times…” his free hand gripping your waist. He squeezed harshly, making you wince at the strength of it, no doubt going to leave marks.
You could practically feel his grin against your shoulder. You weren’t going to give in— not now.
You could tell he was getting tired of your stubbornness. His smile faltered, and his own brows furrowed as his breathing became heavier. You didn’t mind cockwarming him if it meant he didn’t get what he wanted either.
And he took great offense to that.
“You’re such a fucking brat,” He snarled, his patience fully snapping. You tensed at the sound of his voice as he shoved you down on your stomach again.
He leaned above you, slipping his bicep around your neck again and tightening his grip deeply. You let out a soft choked whine— like your throat was straining to exhale.
“Bo—” you gasped his name. He only growled in response to your pathetic gasp, his hand reaching up to tangle into the hair at your scalp, tugging harshly. Tears pricked at your eyes— ow.
“Shut the fuck up,” he barked, tightening his bicep around your neck. “You like bein’ a fuckin’ brat, huh? That all you good for?” He breathed against your neck, rutting his hips deeply against yours painfully. He started to drill into you from behind, making you choke down the apology that started to form at the base of your throat.
“Oh, what? Now you wanna fuckin’ speak?” His bicep tightened further, cutting off air flow to your brain. It made you feel dumber under his spell, like he was brainwashing you to just be this for him. “Maybe I prefer you like this, huh? What about that?” He snorted, “All dumb and wantin’ like a stupid fuckin’ dog..” He leaned down to whisper in your ear as your vision darkened at the edges. “My stupid fuckin’ dog…Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”
You could hardly even nod your head, trying to ignore the way you could hardly breathe, or the way his voice went eerily soothing.
He licked a strip up your neck, hips faltering after every other thrust. “Aw fuck, baby. Gonna make me cum, aren’t you?” He mumbled, letting his pace quicken and power ease.
“Mhm,” you hummed, choking lightly. Your nails scratched at his forearm, which only made him tighten his grip on you with a chuckle. His laugh drips into a low groan, his hips stilling. “Fuuuuuck, baby.” He panted softly, biting his lower lip as he thrusted a few more times. “Just fuckin’ take it, just like that. Fuck yes—” He whined.
He spilled deep inside your cunt, the excess dribbling out from around his cock where it stayed buried. He twitched eagerly inside of you, making you clench around him in a way that had him almost moaning.
Your eyelids fluttered, losing slow consciousness. “Ah— Bo—” you mumbled, fingernails scrambling at his bicep.
Bo released you, letting you slump entirely against the bed. Ignoring the way his warmth seeped out from inside you, dripping between your thighs, staining the sheets below you.
You gasped for air, blinking to try and regain your vision. You coughed a few times, drool slipping from the corners of your mouth. He leaned atop you, letting his cock slip out from inside you and soften against your ass instead.
He caught his own breath, only looking down at you with a morbid sense of pleasure. He brushed a strand of hair from your face, letting his fingers trace down your cheek to your jaw, making you look over your shoulder up at him.
What a mess. You’d no doubt be lightheaded for the next few days; neck bruised and mottled from the pure utter force of his arm. It’s like he wanted you to pass out. Maybe that was his punishment.
Pretty shitty punishment.
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Rusty and "housewife" reader, please?
I don't mean that she is very "traditional", but obviously loves doing housework, cooking and taking care of someone
a/n: omg hello!! ofcourse i can !
i quite love this idea very much, so thank you for sending this in :3 please send me any more requests you may have, and i hope you enjoy!!!
rusty nail x housewife!reader hcs♡⸜(ˆᗜˆ˵ )⸝♡
warnings: optional nsfw at the end :3
tags: fem!reader <3 fluff! southern based rusty :3 mentioned height difference
sfw <3 ෆ╹ .̮ ╹ෆ
• before he had you, this man was eating frozen tv dinners.
he didnt have time nor the patience for a homecooked meal, let alone one that tasted good.
not that he didn’t know how to cook— itd been a while since he really had the opportunity; his skills are a little rusty (haha get it)
so when you show up and start making yourself a prominent figure in his life, you give him no other choice but to eat the meals you cook for him!!
he didnt like it at first; the whole being pampered thing. he felt too vulnerable under your care. he was extremely irritated when you threw out all of his frozen dinners and opted to make him a meal schedule.
・monday consists of different casserole variations; his favorites are a simple, southern green bean and hashbrown casserole! it sends him straight back to his childhood. it honestly made him tear up the first time he tried your food <3 you serve it up with a side of cornbread and a nice, sweating glass of beer just for him (how did you learn to get the head on it so perfect? great balance; he is so grateful for you)
・tuesday is a whole lotta ham and collard greens!! he didnt like collard as a kid, but now that his taste buds have ‘matured’ (as his mama called it), he seems to enjoy it when its you cooking it. he’ll make himself sick on your food from the way he scarfs it all down without remembering to breathe correctly.
・wednesday is homemade chicken pot pie! so creamy and utterly soft in the middle; a perfect balance to the crunchy bite of the crust and the way the vegetables are just flawlessly baked— you must be an angel sent down for him when he gets to slurp up whatever meal you decide to make that day.
・thursdays are your lazy days, or so you call them. its when the chores around the house need to get done, so you have to throw something together easy and quick.
regular old fried ham and potatoes will do, you suppose. leftover ham from tuesday (if you didn’t use it all up then). he doesn’t understand how it’s considered ‘lazy’ in your mind, because it might be the best ham hes tasted in a long time.
・friday is his favorite, because its pot roast.
its the day you spend the most time on— the most effort you put into a dinner. beautifully steamed vegetables and such tender porkchops it practically melts in your mouth; rusty thinks you should partake in a cooking challenge tv series and show them how its done.
・saturdays are especially special to rusty. theyre your date nights! theyre the few days in the week you’ll let him cook for the both of you. let him conjure up a nice steak, mashed patatoes and asparagus with some red wine or (pink) champagne…
yeah, his steaks are good.
he’ll trust you with the gravy, though.
・sundays are your lazy days; a way to wind down before next week begins anew. go out to a diner and have a mediocre half-assed, greasy burger that’ll stain your blouse— but damn is it good. its when you get to be messy and just relax for a few with rusty.
ofcourse, you don’t stick to this schedule all the time. you’ll mix it up; introduce something new or a delicacy you havent had in six years; desserts have him drooling— homemade cheesecake and banana pudding— jesus christ you are the star of his life!
• when your first moved in with him, you were quick to make alot more changes to rustys day-to-day.
like how he hadnt mopped in god knows how long; you remember dumping the bucket of water out into the toilet and grimacing. mud + wood floors + farmhouse don’t exactly mix well, do they?
a floor mat should solve the issue! or maybe force him to start taking his boots off outside.
• he doesnt take care of his home in a way that matches your standards.
so, hes surprised when he sees you sweeping the porch and running off raccoons with your broom. ‘they only cause trouble’, you told him, ‘because once you let them dig around in your trash once, they bring in the whole town to dig in your trash all the time!’
• you dont mind doing the chores. you actually prefer doing them since you do them much more efficiently and correctly then rusty could— no offense!
but when he gets on your last nerve with his bullshit, you punish him by making him do all the chores you’d that day himself.
dust the bookshelves, wipe the counters and sink— dishes (if there are any), picking up trash, tidying up clutter, mop the floors, make the bed, scrub the toilet, clean the bathtub— you get the gist of it.
if he didn’t do it to your standards the first time around, you scold him and demand he do it again! (he always listens because he doesnt wanna go back to frozen dinners ;(
• if hes sick you are instantly on his ass (in a kind way!)
you have him sleep on the couch so he doesnt contaminate the bed, but youll make a mean chicken broth and give him some much needed canada dry <3
he hates being pampered to such a degree, but he wont deny that it does make him feel better.
tucking him in like hes some child; kissing at his cheek— even if its ‘just a cold’. turning on a show you recently recorded or a sports game if one is on (youll make some cheese dip for him to snack on). helping him to a warm bath in the morning and making sure he gets plenty of fluids— yeah, you have to be an angel.
• he’ll rub it in if you need help reaching up someplace high
whether that be a cabinet to dust, or a dish that needs stacked on the shelf— he teases you for it, calling you “tiny.”
he’ll pick you up by your waist like you weigh nothing and have you put whatever it is up rather than just doing it for you. its another way he gets to watch your cheeks flush in embarassment.
it only feeds into your stubborness, though; because now youre balancing atop a chair thats about to topple over trying to dust the top of the bookshelf.
yeaaah he panicked seeing that
• you grind your own coffee beans, and switch out that shitty gas station coffee he somehow stomachs with a steaming mug of your own.
he doesnt think hes had better coffee in his life.
he dearly misses it when hes on the road.
• you dont mind using the washing machine— but something deep down gnaws at you to hand wash everything because for some reason youre secretly anxious its not cleaning your clothes good enough
you’ll zone out and soon enough your hand is raw from cleaning a shirt too roughly against your washboard. ouch!
• youre extremely skilled when it comes to sewing and patchwork. not that you’re some artist or anything (or maybe you are), you just had to learn growing up since clothes werent as accesible to you as they were to your peers.
it was a situation like ‘learn or suffer from not learning.’
so now when he comes home after a rough run in with a victim, you get used to deep cleaning the blood and sewing up his flannels. sewing is close enough to stitching, right?
he loves you so much more for this because it reminds him so much of his mama pleaseeee lord hold this man
jesus, rusty. get yourself together, man.
• rusty is sure to keep you away from the barn
if youre scolding him about the porch he is SURE youll have a heart attack at the smell of the barn. a mere glimpse and youre clutching your chest like a victorian orphan seeing a time machine.
• youre still convicing rusty to let you own a chicken coop and have a small farm.
fresh eggs are delicious— and he knows they are— and he doesnt doubt your ability to take care of them— but jesus do you seriously need chickens
what about coyotes??? he doesnt wanna be having to get up at the crack ass of dawn more than he usually does to go chase them off— he lives on the TREELINE!!!!
nsfw ૮꒰˶ฅ́˘ฅ̀˶꒱ა
• once youre both finishing up a yummy dinner, he pounds into your sweet pussy as soon as you’ll let him!
let him pay you back for that delicious meal, its only fair!
hes messy with it too…not daring to wipe away any of the slick that slips from between your thighs and drips onto the sheets. he knows youll have to clean it up tomorrow, but he’ll lick most of it away when you two are finished.
speaking of, please let him tongue fuck your pretty cunt
its his special dessert— his wife only deserves the best and nothing less, especially when you made him need a nap after such a feast— he needs you leaking on his tongue. let him lap it all up like the dog he is
• shower sex shower sex shower sex!!!
this guy has you pinned up against the tile with his hips pistoning back and forth like there is no TOMORROW. he is ROUGH with it!! you have to be confident and trust he wont let you slip and crack your skull open or something
he will bust a nut in you at least twice before hes getting you on your knees and making you take his cock down your throat. be a good wife and swallow it all! he’ll get grumpy if you spit it out.
atleast the shower makes a good automatic cleaner. just be careful because you can still feel him dripping out of your loose hole when you step out of the bath.
• having to go on a haul in the morning he makes sure to leave his print on you
fucking you so rough and good you wont be able to get out of bed the next morning which leaves you feeling lazy— but swear to god you step a foot out of that bed when hes done with you and youre collapsing to the ground
you will genuinley be feeling his fingers and cock for days.
• when youre exhausted from overworking yourself (try and deny youre tired at first, he sees right through it) he’ll get all sweet with you.
kissing up and between your thighs so gently with his chapped lips, letting his scruff scratch you; making you squirm. nipping softly at the swell of your ass and letting his fingers work you through a long days worth of work, seeing the aftermath of such a day leak onto his fingers
he only gives you praise when youre like this. calling you his amazing sweet, perfect, irreplaceable girl who is so special to him and deserves the best
he cracks a joke and says your food must be the reason why you taste so good
• even though he mostly prefers to stuff his cum somewhere in you for pleasure (and because he knows how much you hate a mess), sometimes he cant help himself and hes painting you with his seed
please please please let him stain your tummy with his cum he is actually moaning watching the way it covers you. this dudes load is thick and ropey and it is dripping from between your breasts and sternum down to your bellybutton.
he loves getting his load anywhere and all over you. it just does something deep within him to see you covered in his spent.
your thighs lightly spread with his cum sticking together from your pussy to your knees. youre so lucky he starts shooting blanks after his sixth orgasm or you mightve be taking a cum bath
• sometimes your dinner doesnt come out as planned. maybe a little burnt or charred because he’ll pull your panties down and shove his cock into you from behind. youre shoving ingredients out of the way on the counter when he picks you up by your thighs, your hips straining to be so spread to let his huge body stand between your legs—
maybe its a good thing you dont invite anyone to come over to eat, because your mixed fluids are very much dripping off the counter edge and making a puddle on the floor…
• the only times you guys have really gone at it in public is when he was too focused on the way you liked whipped cream of your lips at the diner.
you both ended up in a tight bathroom stall with you on your knees licking up his cum from your lips instead of the whipped cream. maybe he’ll make you eat a genuine cream pie one day
• on your date nights, he tries to make them a little romantic <3
hes lighting a candle or two and having their warm light illuminate the soft sheen of sweat that coats your body. he cant help but lean over and lick up your spine. he sits there for a few moments with his nose pressed against your back, inhaling and soaking you in as much as his body can manage before he snaps.
hes going slow, letting his thrusts just show you how much he deeply cares for you
• he likes to catch you offguard when youre hanging clothes off the lines outside.
he’ll chase you through the grass until your diving into the forest, trying to escape his manic laughter. hes having so much fun seeing you trip over your own feet!
once he gets you he tearing your clothes off and shoving you up against rough bark and driving into you like hes genuinley feral. one orgasm after another and he is not stopping— even when his hips are threatening to give out himself
good fertilizer for the grass, i guess? now youre covered in scratches and dirt and mud and wood but dont worry— youre making him do the laundry
and he does take good care of your scratches i promise.
• send him cute selfies of you cooking a meal for yourself when youre on a haul, all positioned from up top with your cleavage poking out from your apron LORDDD he is calling you and telling you to fuck yourself on your fingers instantly
・speaking of boobs please let this man fuck your tits atleast once. even if you have small boobs it doesnt matter you have to let him rut against them and cum all over your chin,
he’ll mark them up pretty and proper later!
a/n: i actually had so much flipping fun writing this holy guac!!!
you can find my account map here !
you are like.. the most goated EVER!!
i was the one who requested feminine reader and i just read it :)))) literally everything i needed after coming home from schoolll you really hit all the points :3
u said u want requests so i'll gladly fulfill the wish (nsfw ofcccc) !!
think about bo sinclair with a reader who doesn't make much noise in bed. just the occasional huff, and sigh-- maybe a mewl if they're cumming. no matter what. (this also connects here cause im lowk projecting) reader who needs work and time and long foreplay to get wet, and even then, it takes a while to cum.
i know people suffer w this like me and it's the best ever to read a fic that includes us girlies who struggle
xoxo im literally your most loyal follower after this
a/n: omg heLLOOOO!!! i want u to know i squealed reading this cuz this means ive MADE IT! im so glad you enjoy my writing and come back for seconds!! i appreciate you so very very much :3
i love this idea alot, especially since im on lexapro, and now its EXTREMELY difficult and tiring iykwim 💔 so youre not alone!!! i havent written for bo yet so omg YAY FIRST BO REQUEST YAY!
I SPILT ICECREAM ALL OVR MY FUCKING KYBOARD WRITIN THIS SO U BETTTR LIKE IT!!!!!!!!! (my spacebar key is sticky writing the rest of this on my phone)
ENJOY!!! 🍝🍝
Bo Sinclair x Low libido!Fem!Reader𓂃ෆ˚
warnings: none!
tags: smutt >:3
Small drabble before the headcanons below :3
w/c: 1,680 <3
Your efforts proved futile.
Rutting your hips softly against your fingers in bed- you've been at this for at least an hour now. No climax, hardly any pleasure. It was miserable.
It'd been like this as long as you could remember. Looking back at other people your age and being so envious they could just orgasm with a few tricks- Why did you need to work so hard for it?
You let your fingers slip from your heat and rest against the sheets instead. Your arm was sore; wouldn't doubt you had carpal tunnel now from just how repetitive you were moving for anything. Sometimes it was like your body purposefully did shit to piss you off.
You didn't let it get to you. It was how it's always been- but this was supposed to be your break. Your opportunity. Bo at work, you left home by yourself- it should've been nice, but it wasn't. You felt like a chore during these times. Too much work for something that might've not even been that worth it.
But Bo didn't see it that way.
So, when you're downstairs, fingers freshly washed as you put together a small meal, you don't know how you didn't notice Bo getting home. You were honestly still seething at the lack of climax, too lost in your thoughts to hear his truckle rumble to a stop outside.
You perked your head up when he shouldered the door open, boots tracking dirt in (that you'd have to clean up later, yay). He tossed his hat onto a small, cluttered table, wiping his hands with a rag as he approached you.
"Hey, sugar." He grinned; coveralls stained with grease and other substances you'd prefer not to touch you. "Hi, Bo." You murmured, walking past him to put the plate down on the table. Perfect timing.
He didn't appreciate your lack of interest in him.
"What's got you sulkin'?" He grumbled, walking up behind you, pressing a fleeting kiss to your temple. His breath reeked of beer.
"'s nothin' Bo. Just tired."
You looked over your shoulder, seeing the way his brows furrowed. He didn't believe it, you know he didn't. Your shoulders slumped, letting out an exhale. "Just...eat, okay? We'll talk later."
A few silent moments passed between you, filled with mild concern. He wanted you to be honest with him- it's what he prided you on.
He sighed, leaning away from you, picking up the plate. "Fine."
You stopped him, just for a second longer as you pressed a quick kiss to his lips. "And shower too, please?"
He cocked a brow. "You're bossy tonight." He muttered, walking over to the couch. You were fondly surprised he didn’t pry you open like a damn walnut— making demands like he usually would’ve done. Maybe he was tired, too.
Or hungry. But, y’know. Either one.
~
You only went back downstairs to clean up after yourself (unlike some people).
Bo is on the couch, still laughing at the same repetitive sitcom. Seriously, how do people find that dog crap amusing?
You only go over to him to put his plate in the sink.
He glances at you but doesn't say anything more. He still hasn't showered, or, if he did, he just went through another 10-hour shift in the span of one hour. Oh well.
By the time you finish the dishes and making your way to the stairs, he whistles over at you; as if you're a damn dog. You looked over your shoulder- confused. He made the gesture with his hand for you to sit next to him. "C'mere real quick." (Which usually meant it wouldn't be quick).
You sighed to yourself, trying to prepare whatever would come from this upcoming conversation. Him trying to convince you something you said or did four months ago is still relevant- or the way you were 'bossy' earlier; how you were a hopeless cause in bed-
Wait a second, you're still focused on that?
You mentally scolded yourself for being so obsessed with this idea he somehow didn't like you. Bo was one of the most straightforward men you knew- so, yeah, if he had a grievance, he would definitely make it known.
So why were you still so sure he didn't?
You shuffled over to him, already planning out the heartfelt apology in your mind over the way you hadn't cleaned up his mud tracks yet.
"I'm sorry about the mess. I'll clean-" he shushes you quick, which leaves you surprised. Your eyes widen before he places a hand on your hip, already tugging you into his lap.
"I don't give a shit about some mud, doll-" he rasped, one hand resting on your hip, the other on your thigh; the laugh track still playing in the background. "What I give a shit about is why you're so closed off, baby. C'mon, look at me-" he muttered, tilting your chin to look down at him. "What's the matter with you, huh? I do something? Is it 'cause I haven't showered?" He joked lightly, leaning in close until your noses brushed.
You were trying to figure out how to vocalize your running thoughts as he subtly ran his hands up and down your waist, his fingers firm. He was usually handsy, which you were used to— but you lost your train of thought when he shifted his hips underneath yours. Now you were getting distracted, and he smirked at the knowledge of that. "I just..." You trailed off.
"You just what?" He snorted, "You're just tired? Sick? Upset?" He sarcastically listed, hands trailing down your waist to your hips in a morbid caress. "You can tell me, baby." He cooed, two fingers trailing the waistband of your pajama pants.
He'll make a mess of you, once he gets you in the mood.
Which— you've been in the mood for the last four hours. A helpless mood.
Bo liked helpless.
So, he's especially excited when he finally has you beneath him, his hand nested comfortably between your thighs. Hes spent the last ten minutes coaxing his fingers in and out of you gently, slick coating his fingers and dripping between your thighs. He’s not trying to get you to cum just yet— he’s just trying to get you to open up for him.
“This what you wanted, huh?” He teased, letting his fingers slip back inside of you again. He curled them softly, thumb circling your clit gently. You didn’t realize he could be soft like this— so gentle. It was unlike him. You didn’t mind though— why would you? He was taking care of you.
You only let out a huff in reply, no moan— even when he’s hitting a spot with his fingers that have your thighs quaking.
He pulled his fingers away from you. It would, should, leave you disappointed— but you were used to such a feeling. Not being close, not feeling complete or finished.
You let your head rest against the couch cushion, maybe accepting the fact he thinks youre tiresome, or not worth the effort— but then hes pushing your thighs apart, leaning over on the couch to nuzzle his face between the plush fat.
Your breath hitches when he flicks his tongue out, tracing up and down, tasting you. He groans against your heat, holding your hips in place. You didn’t expect that— he must’ve been feeling generous tonight.
He sucked on your clit, grinning when you tried to rock your hips back against him; his grip on your hips left you motionless. Fine, you’d let him take the reigns tonight.
Without realizing it, you were actually getting wetter. Your thighs enclosed his head, not trying to suffocate him— but your head tips back a little bit when he brings his hand to your core again. He liked being encased in your sweetness like this, you knew he did by the way he ravaged your cunt with his tongue, keeping his pace on the slower side.
A movement of his fingers, deep inside your core- it had you seeing stars for a moment. You let out a half-choked breath, brows furrowing. You reached your hands down and tangled them in his hair; that’s how he knew he was doing good. He leaned back off of your heat, saliva and slick messily dripping down his lips. “Aw, that feels good, don’t it?” He teased, making you blush.
You nodded, and he chuckled, his hot breath fanning over your inner thighs— making you shudder. “That means you want me to keep going, huh?” You rolled your eyes, taking your hands away from his hair.
Bo was amused, but his smile fell when he realized you were on the brink of just giving up. Either stop or keep going— so he kept going. “Don’t need to be a brat about it, was jus’ teasin’.” He mumbled as his lips returned to your cunt. Your hands flew back to his hair— tugging a little too harshly, which, and unsurprisingly, had him rolling his hips against the couch with a groan.
You were getting close— and he could feel it with the way your hips bucked desperately against his mouth. Finally— finally finally finally some fucking relief.
You let out a shakey sigh when the cord finally snapped, tugging on his hair once more. He didn’t stop immediately; instead letting his tongue lap up what slick you produced. He was eager— like a damn dog.
You actually had to shove him away since he was beginning to make you overstimulated. Your thighs were shaking, breath coming in short pants. It wasn’t an eye opening orgasm— but it still felt amazing after such disappointing day.
He crawled atop you, cupping your face with his hands as he leans down to kiss you. You taste yourself on his tongue, the slick smearing between you both.
You know you’ll have to clean this mess up after, and you know you’ll have to pay him back one way or another.
But when he pulls away and smiles down at you, you’re not opposed.
some nice headcanons :3
When you and Bo first ever had sex— he was weirdly concerned you weren’t feeling good. How much experience do you really think this man has? He’s not really the most sociable guy, despite probably being the most normal out of the brothers.
Usually, he’s not up to the task of getting you off. It’s a nice surprise when he decides he’ll get his wrist sore for you— but you gotta give him the favor back. It’s only fair!
But…he will eat you out for hours. Even if you’ve already cum, he will keep going to get another few out of you.
He uses the noises you rarely make as a sign he’s doing something good. If he goes a bit too hard he’ll know when you make noises you wouldn’t. A whimper maybe, and he knows he’s thrusting too hard.
He’ll usually make you beg for him to keep going, especially if you guys had been at it for a while. He doesn’t have a problem with getting you off with his cock— but he starts shooting blanks at somepoint.
If you’ve been snappy that day, he’ll get back at you by edging you and not letting you cum by the end of it. You’d have to beg real pretty or let him spank you for him to finish you off.
When you’re not in the mood, you’ll let him use your thighs to get off. It’s how he usually spends his nights after a long shift.
a/n: so sorry for not getting this out sooner :( and im sorry if its mediocre. for some reason the words just werent coming easily. ill do better, promise :3
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“Staying Alive Hardly Qualifies As a Hobby.”
Bigby Wolf x Afab!GN!Reader
summary: bigby is hurt, you're in the bath.
misunderstandings hurt the most.
warnings: mentions of blood, other than that, none!
tags: fluff, nonsexual nudity, patching bigby up!
w/c: 580 <3
a/n: im insanely worried my writing is mediocre, and i apologize if it is. im extremely new to posting this publicly, so go easy on me 💔 —🦫
it was hard to ignore the coppery smell in the air as soon as the door opened.
you’d been taking a bath to relax, or trying to— but of course, bigby couldn’t find it in him to wind down with you.
over the soapy scent of your bath, there was a deep, metallic aroma that filled your senses when he walked into the bathroom. a bar fight, maybe? a murder attempt?
because one look at him and you were instantly concerned.
you were sitting up in the bath, water sloshing over the edge: you were about to get up to help him, butt naked, but he put a hand up to silently signal that he was okay.
“what the hell, bigby?” your voice called out as you sat back down, brows knitted.
he didn’t respond, only unbuttoning his collared shirt and letting it drop to the ground. his face definitely got the worst of it.
the mirror was a little steamed around the edges, but you still attempted to make eye contact with him from it. he wasn’t explaining anything to you, and that grated your nerves. he couldn’t just ignore you forever, could he?
“bigby.” you said again.
he stayed quiet, turning on the sink and wetting a rag.
“bigby!”
“what?” he finally growled, not looking at you as he wiped his face with the rag.
his lip was busted, nose bruised and jaw as well. he’s looked worse certainly, but god— he was a mess.
you only scowled from your bath that was beginning to become room temperature. he sighed at the sight of your expression, continuing to wipe the blood and grime from his face with a wince.
“you wanna tell me what the hell happened?” you asked, but it sounded more like a demand.
“it was just a disagreement.”
“my ass.”
“a disagreement that got out of hand.” he snapped, huffing as he leaned against the sink counter. he brought a hand up to his temple, trying to soothe the sharp pain that thudded in his skull.
your face softened at his pained hiss. he dropped the rag in the sink, focusing more on the headache blooming behind his eyes.
“im sorry,” he huffed, voice strained. “its just been…a long night.”
you smiled softly despite the circumstances. “you don’t say.”
you started to stand up from the water again (you needed to get out anyway, the water was cold and you started to prune).
he wanted to protest you getting up from what was supposed to relax you, but locking eyes with you in the mirror stopped whatever words were gonna come out.
he was quiet, letting you walk up behind him and pick the damp and now stained rag up from the sink.
“let me help.” you murmured.
he leaned in to kiss you softly, a warm greeting unlike the cold facade he put up earlier.
you tasted the blood on his tongue when he licked at your lips, making you pull away and squeeze a bruise on his shoulder that made him grimace.
he gave a sheepish smile when you pointed to the toilet.
"so, what actually happened?" you asked curiously as you wrapped the final bandage around his forearm.
"like i said, it was just a misunderstanding."
"one that costed the ability to move your arm?"
"kind of."
you laughed at the absurdity of it. "you, bigby wolf, are a liability.
"that's my specialty."
you cocked a brow, "is it now?"
he nodded.
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