#morgues.moots

[morgueix]

https://x.com/rvnnershlgh/status/2056251233317605785?s=46

OHH OHH GAURD DOG DRIVER WHOS SUBMISSIVE TO YOU LIKE THIS OHH OHHHHH...

guard dog! driver x reader

bwah i’m not very good at writing subby men but i tried my best (anything for you jude bb) ! i may write guard dog! driver as a dom soon because now i’m inspired

Driver doesn’t kneel easily. He doesn’t beg with words. His submission is quieter, heavier, like a loaded gun he chooses to keep holstered for you.

- He’s the ultimate guard dog sub. Stoic, watchful, lethal when necessary. To the outside world he’s the same silent man who sizes up every room he enters. But for you? He lowers his head without being asked. Not because he’s weak, because he *decides* you’re worth the deference. Every single time.

- Service is his love language. The car is always spotless when you need it. Routes planned three steps ahead. He stands just behind your shoulder in crowds, one hand loose at his side, ready. If anyone steps too close, the violence is instant and economical. Then he’s right back at your heel, calm again, waiting for the next order.

- Physical affection is rare and deliberate. He’ll rest his forehead against your thigh after a long night, hands loosely around your leg, breathing steady while you run fingers through his hair. No desperate whining, just the quiet relief of being allowed this close. Being *yours*.

- In private he lets the mask slip just enough. Lets you push him against the wall, lets you tilt his chin up so he has to meet your eyes. The first time you tell him to stay, really *stay*—he sits on the edge of the bed for twenty minutes without moving, muscles coiled, pulse visible in his throat. Loyal to the full extent.

- He’s not soft. He’s not demure. He’s a guard dog who chose his person and will tear the world apart to keep them safe, then come home, wipe the blood off his hands, and kneel at their feet like it’s the only place he belongs.

[morgueix]

🙏 Need more thoughts on neighbor!driver OR neighbor colt MWAHAHAAA

RAHH GIRL I LOVE AND ADORE YOU.

Neighbor! Colt Seavers x fem! reader

TW: none !

smut under cut !!

Living next door to Colt Seavers was nothing short of dangerous.

The man was a walking hazard, seemingly perpetually shirtless, covered in bruises and scrapes from whatever insane stunt he’d filmed that day, flashing that easy, cocky grin every time your paths crossed in the hallway. He’d lean in your doorway with a beer in hand, asking if you needed anything fixed while his eyes shamelessly dragged down your body like he was already imagining you bent over the kitchen counter.

One night the power went out during a storm. Colt showed up at your door with a flashlight and that lazy smirk, wearing nothing but low-slung sweatpants. Twenty minutes later the lights were still off, but you were on your back across the dining table with Colt between your thighs.

He fucked like he performed stunts, confident, a little reckless, and in total control. Strong hands gripped your hips, holding you right where he wanted as he sank into you with one smooth, deep thrust that made your back arch off the table. Every roll of his hips was deliberate, powerful, the kind of rhythm that had you gasping his name like a prayer.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he groaned against your neck, voice rough and warm. He kissed you like he was starving for it, messy, hungry, smiling into your mouth every time you moaned louder. One hand slid between you, thumb circling your clit with devastating precision until your legs started shaking around his waist.

He didn’t just take. Colt worshipped. His mouth on your tits, teeth grazing your throat, whispering filthy praise between thrusts. “That’s it, baby… let me hear you. Sound so pretty when you’re falling apart for me.”

By the time the power came back on, you were boneless, marked up with beard burns and love bites, while Colt lounged beside you like he’d just pulled off the best stunt of his career. He pressed a lazy kiss to your shoulder and murmured against your skin,

“Anytime you need a neighborly favor… day or night… I’m right next door.” Bastard had even winked

[morgueix]

https://x.com/spitfyred/status/2057068544026697925?s=46

Not a p!link | sfw!

"Starved dog trying to eat you out with a muzzle on"

VERY DRIVER. I would love to muzzle and torture him ugh

muzzled ! driver x reader

TW: pet play, cunnilingus

AN: pet play really isn’t my thing but i tried my best ! this is so so slutty dirty nasty but also so yummy. i need him carnally

smut below cut!

Driver has always been a man of brutal control.

- He’s on his knees in the half-dark garage, leather jacket hanging open with his wrists bound behind his back. The steel muzzle is locked tight around his lower face, cold metal bars pressing into his skin. His breathing is already ragged, chest rising and falling hard as he stares up at you.

- He strains forward desperately, no shame left in him. The muzzle keeps him from reaching you properly, so every attempt is frustrating and clumsy. He presses the cold bars against your cunt, trying to use pressure and the heat of his breath to get what he needs. His tongue pushes against the gaps, licking desperately at whatever he can touch, leaving the metal slick with spit.

- Low, muffled groans vibrate against you as he works his face between your thighs, chasing every inch of contact he’s allowed. His shoulders tremble from the strain of holding himself in this humiliating position, but he doesn’t stop. He can’t.

- When you shift away even slightly, he immediately follows, leaning in harder, almost frantic. The quiet, composed Driver is gone. In his place is a man who’s been pushed to the edge for too long, reduced to desperate, sloppy devotion.

- Only when you finally remove the muzzle does the last of his restraint snap. He buries his face between your legs, licking and sucking with pure hunger. No technique, just raw need. His tongue flat and greedy, hands gripping your thighs hard enough to leave marks as he pulls you tighter against his mouth.

Even after you’re done, he stays there, forehead pressed to your skin, breathing shakily. The muzzle lies forgotten beside him for now… but you both know he’ll let you put it back on whenever you want.

Because this is the only time Driver ever lets himself fall apart so completely for someone.