Ooo Continuing Ur Last Oral Fixation Post I Think Jj Would Love If Reader Keeps On Biting Him … His

❛ THE POGUES INTERRUPTING YOU AND RAFE MID-FUCK ❜

girlfriend¡reader . . . rafe cameron

The room was a haze of heat and shadows, the air thick with the musky scent of sex and the rhythmic creak of the bedframe. Rafe Cameron’s powerful body hovered over you, his skin slick with sweat, muscles rippling under the dim glow of a flickering bedside lamp.

His hands were everywhere—gripping, claiming, possessive. One hand pinned both of your wrists above your head, his fingers tight enough to bruise, while the other roamed your body, sliding from your throat to your breast, squeezing the soft flesh until you gasped.

His hips slammed into yours with a punishing rhythm, each thrust deep and unrelenting, his cock filling you completely, stretching you in a way that made your entire body shudder with pleasure.

Your thighs were splayed wide, trembling as they hooked around his waist, your heels digging into the taut muscles of his lower back, urging him deeper, harder.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Rafe growled, his voice low and gravelly, dripping with raw desire. His blue eyes burned into yours, darkened with lust, his pupils blown wide as he watched your face contort with every thrust.

He shifted his angle, his cock dragging against that sensitive spot inside you, and you cried out, your back arching off the bed, breasts pressing against his chest. The friction of his skin against your hardened nipples sent sparks shooting through you, and you clenched around him, drawing a sharp hiss from his lips.

“That’s it, baby,” he rasped, his breath hot against your ear as he leaned down, his tongue tracing the curve of your jaw before his teeth nipped at your pulse point, hard enough to leave a mark.

Your hands strained against his grip, desperate to touch him, to claw at the corded muscles of his shoulders, but he held you firm, his control absolute. The bed groaned under the force of his movements, the headboard slamming against the wall in time with his hips—thud, thud, thud—a primal beat that echoed the wet, obscene sounds of your bodies colliding.

Your slick arousal coated him, making each thrust smoother, deeper, the slide of his cock inside you almost too much to bear.

Your moans were loud, unrestrained, mingling with his ragged grunts as he fucked you with a ferocity that bordered on desperation, like he was trying to claim every inch of you, to brand you as his.

“Rafe—oh God, please,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as the pleasure built, a tight coil in your core that threatened to snap. Your hips bucked up to meet his, chasing the high, your thighs quivering as his hand slid from your breast to your clit, his thumb circling the sensitive bundle of nerves with ruthless precision.

The added stimulation made you see stars, your head thrashing against the pillow, hair sticking to your sweat-dampened forehead. “I’m so close,” you gasped, your words barely coherent as he drove into you harder, his cock hitting so deep it felt like he was splitting you open.

He groaned at your words, his pace faltering for a split second before he doubled down, his thrusts growing even more brutal, the slap of skin on skin filling the room.

“Come for me,” he demanded, his voice rough, almost feral, as he pressed his thumb harder against your clit, rubbing tight, fast circles that pushed you right to the edge.

Your body tensed, every muscle taut as the orgasm ripped through you, a white-hot wave that made you scream his name, your walls clamping down around him so tightly he cursed under his breath.

Your vision blurred, your body shaking uncontrollably as he fucked you through it, his hips never slowing, prolonging the ecstasy until you were a trembling, panting mess beneath him.

He wasn’t done. Rafe released your wrists, and your hands immediately flew to his back, nails raking down his spine, leaving angry red welts that made him growl in approval. He grabbed your hips with both hands, lifting you slightly off the bed to meet his thrusts, the new angle letting him hit even deeper.

“Fuck, look at you,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to where your bodies joined, watching his cock disappear into your dripping heat with every stroke.

“Taking me so fucking well.” His words sent a fresh wave of arousal through you, and you clenched around him again, your body still sensitive from your climax but greedy for more.

You reached up, tangling your fingers in his sweat-soaked hair, pulling his face down to yours. His lips crashed against yours, the kiss messy and hungry, all teeth and tongue, his stubble scraping your chin as he devoured you.

You could taste the salt of his sweat, the faint tang of whiskey on his breath, and it only made you want him more. Your tongue slid against his, matching his intensity, and he moaned into your mouth, the sound vibrating through you as he thrust harder, his balls slapping against your ass with every movement.

The world was nothing but Rafe—his weight pressing you into the mattress, his scent filling your lungs, his cock driving into you with a relentless, almost punishing force.

You were so lost in him, in the heat and the pleasure and the way he owned every part of you, that you didn’t hear the footsteps outside the door, didn’t register the voices until it was too late.

The door burst open with a loud crash, the knob hitting the wall, and the Pogues spilled into the room, their laughter and chatter cutting off abruptly as they froze, taking in the scene.

JJ was the first to react, his beer bottle slipping from his hand and hitting the floor with a dull thud. “Holy fuck! Are you kidding me?!” he shouted, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and disgust, though a smirk was already curling his lips.

Rafe stilled instantly, his cock still buried deep inside you, his body tense as he whipped his head toward the intruders.

His hands tightened on your hips, possessive, protective, but he didn’t move to cover you, his glare pure venom as he locked eyes with JJ.

Your heart pounded, mortification flooding you as you scrambled to pull the sheet over yourself, but Rafe’s weight kept it pinned beneath you, leaving you exposed and vulnerable under the Pogues’ stares.

John B stood in the doorway, a joint dangling from his fingers, his jaw slack as he muttered, “Dude, what the hell? Ever heard of a lock?” Sarah, next to him, looked like she was trying not to laugh, but her eyes were wide with surprise, her hand half-raised as if to shield her view.

Kiara’s face was a mask of disgust, her arms crossed tightly as she snapped, “This is why we hate you, Cameron. Fucking gross.”

Pope, as usual, was the quiet one, his gaze fixed firmly on the ceiling, his cheeks flushed as he mumbled, “I didn’t sign up for this.”

JJ, never one to let an opportunity slide, leaned against the doorframe, his smirk growing as he took in Rafe’s flushed, sweat-slicked body and your disheveled state.

“Well, shit, Kook king, you’re really givin’ it to her, huh? Didn’t think you had it in you.” His eyes flicked to you, and he winked, his tone dripping with mockery. “You good, princess? Sounds like you’re gettin’ the full Rafe Cameron experience.”

“Get the fuck out, Maybank,” Rafe snarled, his voice low and dangerous, his body still pressed against yours, shielding you as best he could without moving.

His cock twitched inside you, and you bit your lip to stifle a gasp, the sensation sending a confusing mix of arousal and embarrassment through you. The tension in the room was electric, the hatred between Rafe and the Pogues crackling like a live wire.

You tried to speak, your voice shaky and breathless. “Guys, just—go. Please.”

Your cheeks burned, your body still humming from the intensity of Rafe’s touch, and the last thing you needed was JJ’s smartass commentary or Kiara’s judgmental glare.

Sarah was the first to move, grabbing JJ’s arm and yanking him back. “Let’s go, idiots,” she said, her voice firm but laced with amusement.

“They’re clearly… busy.” John B snorted, already turning to leave, while Kiara shot one last disgusted look at Rafe before following. Pope practically bolted, muttering something about “needing bleach for his eyes.”

JJ lingered, his grin wicked as he pointed at Rafe. “Don’t let us stop you, Cameron. Keep fuckin’ up her world.” He dodged the shoe Rafe hurled at him, laughing as he finally backed out, slamming the door shut behind him.

The second the door closed, Rafe’s lips were on yours again, his kiss fierce and possessive, like he was trying to erase the Pogues’ intrusion from both your minds.

“Fucking Pogues,” he growled against your mouth, his hips snapping forward, thrusting into you with renewed intensity.

You moaned, the sudden movement catching you off guard, your body arching into his as he picked up where he left off, his cock driving into you with a force that made your breath hitch.

“Let’s make sure they hear you this time,” he whispered, his voice dark and dangerous, his hands gripping your hips as he fucked you harder, faster, the bed creaking loudly beneath you.

You clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders, your body already climbing toward another release as the world outside faded away, leaving only Rafe and the overwhelming pleasure he gave you.

𓂅 taglist ― @littlelamy @dollyfiles @drewstarkeyswife0 @icaqttt @urcoolgf @camercns @pointocean @dsfault

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©RAFESGREASYCURTAINBANGS ꪆৎ est. 2025

୨୧ ─ jj finding out you like his dimple . . .

JJ had you folded beneath him, your legs locked around his waist, breathy little uh uh uh's falling from your lips as he rolled his hips deep and slow. His hand was planted around your waist, arching your back so you could feel him all the way in your stomach. His forearm flexing, shark tooth swinging lightly with each movement.

And he was smirking. Of course he was.

You were already fucked-out, fluttering around him with every slow grind, and then, then—he let out a breathy laugh and grinned down at you, that fucking dimple popping on his cheek like it knew you were weak.

Your body reacted before your brain did and JJ felt it instantly.

His hips stuttered. He blinked, then leaned down with that shit-eating look that meant danger.

“…Knew it,” he murmured, eyes dark, voice all low and smug. “Knew you’d get tighter when I smiled.”

You slapped his chest. “JJ!”

“What?” he laughed, not even pretending to be sorry. “That was so fast. You’re a little dimple freak.”

“I hate you—”

“You love me. And my dimple.” He grinned again just to prove a point, dragging his hips slow and deep, and sure enough—he felt you clamp again.

He moaned, all dramatic. “Jesus. That’s crazy. You're literally squeezing my dick over a face crease.”

You buried your face in his neck, humiliated.

“Don't hide now, baby,” he whispered, breath hot at your ear. “We’re gonna talk about this every time I smile.”

And unfortunately for you, JJ Maybank made it his life mission to keep smiling now.

check out my other works ! masterlist

how do you theoretically ride someones dimple? asking for a friend.

I'm in a Jensen Ackles community, and someone posted that they wanted a fic about the reader liking Jensen's hands. I love your writing and think you could do it justice. If this isn't something you'd want to do, you can ignore this. 😊

They also said they wanna be tagged, @/deanwinchestersgirl8734

౨ৎ ₊˚⊹ veins and vows 🤞

₊⊹ ʚ ₊⊹｡ ⋆ ˚ ⋆ ｡˚ ₊⊹｡ ₊⊹ ୨♡୧ ⊹₊ ｡⊹₊ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ˚ ⋆ ｡⊹₊ ɞ ⊹₊

pairing: jensen ackles x fem!reader

summary: jensen catches you staring at his hands which gives him a cheeky little idea.

cw: 18+ smut/fluff, soft dom!jensen, sub!reader has a hand kink, teasing, praising, breast & pussy play, established relationship (married), jensen is a teasing menace.

word count: 987

julia yaps: thank you so much @multiversefanfics for thinking about me it’s so sweet and considerate of you. i didn’t get much details about what you wanted so I hope this is okay 🥺

────────── ୨ৎ ──────────

“you’re staring sweetheart” said jensen with a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, his gaze focused on the script he was currently reading through.

you snapped out of your thoughts and went back to cutting the vegetables for dinner, your cheeks catching on a slight shade of pink, feeling flustered that he caught you staring at his hands. “sorry” you murmured.

but at least he couldn’t read your mind right? he couldn’t tell you were imagining his hands roaming all over your body in a meaningful and sensual manner, his big hand wrapped around your throat as with his other hand his fingers work you open, slowly, one finger then two, maybe three. his thumb circling your swollen clit.

he couldn’t tell you were thinking all that right?

but come on can you blame yourself? his hands are so pretty but at the same time so masculine, decorated with age, kissable freckles and veins, a watch on his wrist, tattoo on his thumb and a silver wedding band on his finger that represented his undying love and loyalty for you. you shamefully worshipped your husbands hands as if they were sculpted my michelangelo himself, and he secretly knew it despite you trying to hide it.

he glanced up from his notes and couldn’t help but smile softly as he noticed just how embarrassed you were at him catching you gawking.

an idea popped in his head, he cleared his throat, putting down all the papers onto the table and he stood up, taking his empty coffee mug and walking over to the kitchen counter. his walk was slow, almost like a predator creeping up on it’s prey.

you looked up and flashed him a smile before going back to focusing on not cutting your fingers off with the kitchen knife.

jensen put the coffee mug down by the drip machine, pressed the button to make more coffee and walked behind you, his broad physique towering over your smaller one. his front pressed up against your back.

he gently placed his hands on your hips and pressed a soft kiss on your cheek, then another one on your neck and lastly onto your shoulder.

“babe~” you let out a giggle as his beard tickled your delicate skin, your cute little giggle making him smile. he gently squeezed your waist before snaking one of his hands up your shirt, moving higher up, just below your bra.

your breath hitched slightly as you tried to focus on slicing the vegetables and not his hand placement, but jensen made it real hard when he sneaked his hand under your lace bra to cup your breast. his hand big and warm.

his other hand gradually shifting lower and lower, his fingers playing with the waistband of your shorts. “babe wha-what are you doing?” you managed to stutter out with a smile.

he hummed in your ear, a big smug smile on his face. “nothing” he replied with an innocent tone which you didn’t fall for. “mhm sure” you chuckled and playfully rolled your eyes.

his hand softly massaged your breast, his thumb brushing against your hardening nipple which made you let out a shaky breath. you had to put the knife down in order not to hurt yourself or him by accident. your lips parted as your breathing became heavier.

“you know what i’m thinking of right now?” jensen whispered into your ear, his breath tickling your neck which sent shivers down your spine.

“n-no?” you accidentally whimpered out. he couldn’t help but smirk at how worked up you seemed to already be.

his veiny hand suddenly leaving your breast and gripping you teasingly by the throat, his fingers wrapping round you deliciously.

“having my hand wrapped round your throat as my other hand plays with your pretty little pussy” his other hand sliding into your shorts and panties, his middle and ring fingers finding their way between your folds with practiced ease. “oh would you look at that, sooo wet, already?” he teased in a slightly mocking tone as he spread your arousal with his middle finger, using it as lube.

you gasped out as he suddenly brushed against your bundle of nerves, your hands weakly grabbing a hold onto his wrists which only made him chuckle. you tilted your head back, resting it on his muscular shoulder. his facial hair brushing against your temple.

his hand teasingly tightening around your throat as his thick digits circled your clit painfully slow, a soft moan slipping your lips. your eyes closing as your back arched leading to your ass brushing against his crotch. “j-jensen..” you breathed out his name like it was some secret.

“shhh shhh it’s okay sweetheart” jensen cooed into your ear, his fingers sliding up and down your slit. “just focus on my hands, in your panties and around your neck…you’re doing so good for me sweetheart” he praised, his words making you melt right there on the spot. he gave your cheek a soft kiss and continued to play with you.

as tension was building up in the pit of your stomach, your grip on his wrists became gradually weaker. jensen could tell that you were getting close by how your body tensed up underneath his touch.

then suddenly his phone started ringing, jensen couldn’t stop the small smirk forming on his face, he was waiting for this important call for a while now, knowing damn well he will leave you waiting, on edge and unsatisfied until later.

“i gotta get that, it’s important” he whispered with a smirk before giving you another soft kiss on the cheek and slowly pulling away, reaching into his pocket for his phone with one hand and licking off your arousal from his other.

“i’m not finished with you yet” he said, giving you a cheeky little wink before picking up the call and walking away into the living room.

thank you so much for reading! feedback and reblogs are always deeply appreciated <3

tags: @jensino @emeraldcrs @soldiersgirl @jensenacklesballsack @missus-ackles @littlesoulshine @deanswifeyy @slut4jackles @h8aaz @bittersweetfig @angelicjackles @losers-clvb @lyarr24 @cowboysandcigarettes @blossomingorchids @bluemerakis @rositaslabyrinth @deanspookiebear @tinas111 @bejeweledinterludes @miss-marmalade @pinksatinpanties @multiversefanfics @cupidzbunny @sunnyteume @lunaleah

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© diver by @cafekitsune <3

𝜗𝜚 c!w. dirty talk, sexual themes, aftercare, shy!reader, soft!rafe.

heavy pants filled the air of rafe cameron's bedroom. the breaths bounced from wall to wall as he laid his back against the mattress, chest slightly heaving.

his eyes were busy, darting across each of your features and trying to gauge any emotion.

"c'mere, baby." you felt his hand grab at your upper arm, his own large bicep curling around you, holding you close so you could feel the warmth of his body radiate off of your own.

you were trying to regain your breath, softly breathing through parted lips as your head laid against the boy's chest, legs already beginning to dangle between his own.

it was hard to ignore the sudden heat to your face, a blush creeping across your cheeks.

you'd had sex with rafe quite often and you didn't think he was keen on slowing down anytime soon. though neither were you. however, it was only in your shy nature to feel suddenly flushed against him.

he felt you nuzzle against him. it was almost as if you were trying to hide your face in the crook of his neck.

his words plagued your memory.

"that feel good, sweetheart, huh?" "fuck, baby, your pussy's so fuckin' warm." "there you go, good girl." "love bein' fucked by this dick, i'nt that right, angel?" "like bein' my good girl, huh? all mine, that's it, baby.".

rafe's lips often spilled words that were awfully crude when he fucked you.

"y'okay, sweetheart?" he felt you nod in the crook of his neck. rafe was typically soft after moments like these, especially like tonight, when he knew he pushed you a little further than normal. "you're quiet. not upset, yeah?"

once again, he felt you nod.

he gently moved you, nudging your face with his nose. "gonna answer me, princess?" you sort of blinked at him. "with words."

he felt you squirm against him. "'m okay." you muttered, though your voice was so quiet it hardly reached his ears. while the tips of your own were turning red.

the stare he was using seemed a little dangerous. "yeah?"

a hum was on the tip of your tongue but it was awfully hard to concentrate when he was looking at you like that. his head slightly tilted, eyes piercing into your own, pretty lips bent into a slight smirk. all you could think about were the filthy things he was whispering in your ears not five minutes ago.

shrinking in on yourself, you had to shy away from him.

finally, he got it.

his lips quirked up into a smirk. "getting shy on me now, huh?" rafe liked to tease. "all shy like you weren't jus' gushin' around my dick, baby?"

"rafe!" you shot your hands up to cover your bashful face with a blush spread across it.

"what?" a half laugh fell from his lips, hands pulling your own from your face so he could look at you. "you liked me talking earlier." you uttered something, rafe didn't hear it. "speak up, angel." nudging your face with his nose for the second time. something about the act seemed soft, gentle.

once again, you squirmed. "'said stop bein' mean."

his brows raised. "how am i being mean, sweetheart?" a laugh on the edge of his tongue but he held it back, not wanting to make you feel more embarrassed than you already did.

"'cause." your fingers were absentmindedly trailing up his arm, eyes too focused on trying to escape having to look at his face. god, you couldn't look at his face.

while rafe was merely staring at yours. "you're cute." the grin sitting on his lips and the cocked brow was enough for you to hide your face in his chest. he heard you mumble something about him having to be quiet. "'m serious, baby." he pulled your face up with his fingers hooked around your chin. "my shy girl, 's so cute."

the way he spoke to you had your head feeling sort of blurry, a floaty feeling that you couldn't quite understand.

"head feelin' fuzzy, princess?" you nodded at his words, confused on how he always knew what was going on inside your head. it seemed he knew better than you did sometimes. "'s okay, pretty girl, c'mere."

for the second time that night, he pulled you in closer, this time you were practically on top of him, bodies wrapping together like gloves. as rafe said, you "fit so perfectly, like 't was made for it."

"that's right, princess, 'm gonna take care of you." with a kiss to the crown of your head which he watched you hide instantly. "gonna take care of my shy girl, yeah?"

all that you could muster was a nod.

𝓟ATCHWORK.

pairings : frank castle x fem!reader warnings : injury, crying, non-sexual nudity, angst, size diff, hurt/comfort, teasing, fluff, happy ending summary : you take care of your boyfriend frank after he shows up at your door, bloody and bruised wc : 1.2k a/n : um hello punisher fandom i’m only on season one i’m so sorry #fakefan😥

the knock at your door came just after midnight, faint but insistent. you had a sinking feeling even before you opened it, knowing who it would be. frank always showed up like this - silent and battered, like a ghost returning to haunt your quiet life. except you really did love this ghost. but tonight was worse. the moment you saw him leaning heavily against the frame, his face pale under streaks of blood, your breath hitched.

“frank,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “oh my god, what happened?”

he grunted in response, brushing off your concern with a slight shake of his head. “‘s not as bad as it looks,” he muttered, but the way he swayed on his feet told a different story. instinctively, you reached out, your much smaller hands pressing against his chest to steady him. he was so solid, so big, but he felt fragile in this moment, like he might collapse if you let go.

“come inside,” you said, your voice wavering as you pulled him in. he barely made it two steps before you had to slip under his arm, guiding him toward the bathroom. “you shouldn’t even be walking. why didn’t you call me?”

“didn’t wanna… bother you,” he rasped, wincing as you helped him sit on the closed toilet lid. his broad shoulders hunched forward, and he sucked in a sharp breath when you knelt in front of him, slowly nestling in between his legs.

“bother me?” your voice cracked, tears already pricking at your eyes. “frank, you’re bleeding all over my bathroom. how could you think…” you trailed off, shaking your head as you reached for the first aid kit under the sink.

his lips twitched, a ghost of a smile despite the situation. “baby, you’re cryin’ already,” he murmured, his tone soft, almost teasing. “i’m the one all cut up, and you’re the one fallin’ apart.”

“shut up,” you sniffled, wiping at your cheeks with the back of your hand before focusing on the deep gash along his side. “it’s not funny.”

“maybe a little funny,” he said, but his voice was gentler now, his dark eyes watching you with something like affection. the size of him made you feel even smaller as you worked, your hands trembling as you cleaned the wound. “you don’t gotta do this, y’know.”

“stop saying that,” you mumbled, dabbing at the cut with antiseptic, trying to focus on stopping the bleeding rather than frank’s cooing at your sniffles. “you’re always saying that, like i’m not here because i want to be. you think i’d let just anyone bleed all over my floor?”

his chuckle was low, rumbling in his chest. “guess not.”

once the wound was cleaned and stitched, you leaned back on your heels, letting out a shaky breath. “all done. but you need to get cleaned up. you’re covered in…” you gestured vaguely at him, your lips quivering as you tried not to cry again.

“hey,” he said softly, his massive hand reaching out to cup your cheek, another of his little scoffs threatening to slip. he was trying to be as serious as possible for you, not wanting you to think he wasn’t taking you seriously, especially after putting you through so much. his thumb brushed away a stray tear, and the contrast of his rough skin against your softness made your heart ache. “don’t cry, sweetheart. it’s okay. i’m okay.”

“you’re not okay,” you whispered, your voice breaking. your train of thought stopped abruptly when you noticed the corners of his lips slightly turning up. “frank! stop smiling. just let me help, okay?” you whined, lifting your head away from his hands.

“okay, sweetheart,” he didn’t argue, too tired to fight you on it. you stood and turned to the tub, starting the water and letting it run warm. the quiet sound of it filled the room, grounding you as you grabbed a clean towel and set it aside. when you turned back to him, he was watching you with an expression you couldn’t quite place.

“come on,” you said, helping him to his feet. he towered over you, his sheer size making the act of guiding him to the tub feel almost absurd. but he let you, his movements slow and careful as he sank down onto the edge. his knees jutted up from the small space, his frame too large for the confines of your tiny bathroom.

“stay there,” you murmured, kneeling again to untie his boots and tug them off. your fingers worked quickly, but you were hyper-aware of his gaze, the weight of his attention making your cheeks flush.

once he was down to his boxers, you helped him ease into the water, your hands fluttering nervously as if you might break him. he let out a low sigh as the warm water enveloped him, his head tipping back against the edge of the tub.

“better?” you asked, perching on the side of the tub.

he hummed in response, his eyes slipping shut. after a moment, his head tipped forward, resting against your thigh. the vulnerability of the gesture stole your breath, and your hand hesitated mid-air before you rested it gently on his damp hair.

“you’re too good to me,” he murmured, his voice low and rough.

“stop saying that,” you replied softly, your fingers threading through his hair. “you deserve someone to take care of you, frank. you deserve…” your voice caught, the words sticking in your throat.

he tilted his head slightly, looking up at you with an amused glint in his eyes. “you’re cryin’ again.”

“shut up,” you sniffled, swiping at your cheeks. “it’s your fault. you’re so… stubborn.”

his laugh was soft, barely more than a huff of air, but it made your chest ache. “didn’t mean to make you cry, sweetheart.”

you shook your head, your hand still brushing through his hair. “you didn’t. i just… i hate seeing you like this. you act like you don’t matter, but you do. you matter to me.”

for a long moment, he didn’t say anything, his dark eyes searching yours. then, slowly, he lifted a hand out of the water, his fingers brushing against your knee. it was such a small, tender gesture, but it spoke volumes.

“you’re somethin’ else,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion.

the two of you stayed like that for a while, the water growing cooler as his breathing slowed, the exhaustion finally taking hold. you didn’t move, didn’t dare disturb the fragile peace that had settled over the room. he looked so different like this, his usual hard edges softened by the quiet intimacy of the moment.

as his head grew heavier against your thigh, you leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “get some rest,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “i’ve got you, frank. i’ve got you.”

and for the first time, he didn’t argue.

taglist form in pinned post, just added frank castle ><

bf!rafe x thick!reader.

i’ve been thinking about how reader is insecure about her thick thighs and ass so rafe fucks her dumb in the mirror forcing her to look at herself as he says how perfect she is <3

warnings: unprotected sex, rough sex, mirror sex, mentions of body image issues and insecurities, body worship, praise, hair pulling, slapping, dirty talk, pregnancy kink (but rafe is serious about it??)

a/n: if you want to read more thick/bigger girl!reader, read this ‘thinking thot’ if you haven’t <3

“fucking look at yourself!” rafe grunted, wrapping a fist in your hair before forcing your head up to stare at your reflection. besides the obvious fact that you looked like a fucked-out mess, rafe wore a smirk that had you squeezing around him with a broken sob. “you’re so insecure and for what?” he landed a harsh smack to your ass, the loud sound making your cheeks heat, “if it wasn’t for this body i wouldn’t be able to fuck you like this..” you cried out when he let go of your hair and grabbed your hips, planting a foot on the mattress before drilling into you even deeper.

in this position he was easily nudging your cervix with every thrust, his fingers digging deep into your flesh as you struggled to keep your eyes on the full length mirror in front of you. “you make me so fucking mad when i hear you talk bad about yourself,” rafe said through gritted teeth, “saying you wish you looked better,” he scoffed, “..it doesn’t get better than this.” your knees nearly gave out from under you when he snaked a hand around your waist, his fingers working on your clit until you felt that familiar heat starting to simmer in your tummy.

“you’re so pretty, baby, it freaks me out sometimes,” rafe leaned down so his mouth was next to your ear, “you have no clue how many times throughout the day i have to resist the urge from bending you over and fucking you dumb— just like the way i am right now.” your eyes rolled back at his words, his praise shooting straight to your soaked cunt. “you make me hard without even doing anything, you know that? these curves are so fucking perfect, i could squeeze you and grab and rough you up just the way i want to. you drive me fucking crazy.” you weren’t only crying because of the way you were being pounded into right now, but because you knew rafe was coming from a place of genuine love.

you couldn’t help but feel insecure when you saw the kind of girls that always tried to get at your boyfriend, some even going as far as flashing you a wink when they stroked his arm while passing by. all of them looked flawless in your eyes, your insecurity creeping up on you and making you question why on earth rafe was even with you. questioning rafe’s devotion was exactly what got you in the position you were in right now. “look up, ‘pretty, i need you to see what i see.” he clasped a hand around the back of your neck, dragging you up so your back was flushed against his chest.

your body was on full display, your teary gaze meeting rafe’s as he fixed your head in place to make you look at yourself. “starting with this face,” he was still thrusting into you when he stroked your cheek, “i don’t think you’re real sometimes. especially when we wake up in the morning and the sun is hitting you just right..” he planted a kiss in the curve of your shoulder. “you don’t even know this but on the days i wake up earlier than you i just watch you. admire you.” you moaned when you felt him hit your sweet spot, your eyebrows knitting together as you took your bottom lip between your teeth.

“these tits,” rafe took both of his hands and cupped you, rolling your sensitive buds between his fingers, “this is why i love it so much when you’re on top.” you laughed softly, a small smile playing on rafe’s lips as he continued rocking into you. you knew rafe wasn’t lying, he always looked hypnotized and dazed whenever you rode him, his eyes glued to your chest while you bounced on top of him. “these thighs are the same thighs that i always need my head in between. whether you’re sitting on my face or i have you pinned down on your back, i fucking love them.” he rasped, his hips stuttering as he began approaching his high.

“your hips and your waist..” your mouth fell open in a silent moan when he found your clit again, “you’re gonna carry my kids, i’ll make sure of that.” you gasped when he picked up his speed, his words hitting you right where you’d feel them most. “m’gonna make you have my babies, ‘give you even more reasons why you should love your body the same way i do. you understand?” you nodded frantically, turning your head so he could take you in a searing kiss. that was all it took for both of you to fall over the edge, rafe carefully laying you down on your tummy as he filled you up.

you two stayed like this, your kisses growing more feverish once he pulled out, rafe wasting no time in wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. he traced the curve of your lips, thumbing away the tears from your eyes as you sighed. “i don’t ever want you to question the love that i have for you, do you understand?” you cozied up to him, whispering a ‘yes.’ before he hummed sleepily.

AGAHGDHHSB

Hi girly pop absolute love blue collar!rafe I was wondering if you could write about wren/emmett throwing a tantrum about not having something then saying I hate my mum then rafes reaction

emmett being mean to his mommy & blue collar!rafe shuts that shit down real quick !!

cw: cussing, rafe being stern with emmett

it all happened in a flash. one second, the house was calm—just the quiet hum of the afternoon, dishes clinking softly in the sink, wren babbling from her playmat in the living room. you were wiping the counter down, calling emmett’s name gently from across the room.

“hey, em, pick up your toys, please.” you didn’t expect a tantrum. you didn’t expect the shift in his little body—the frustration that had been bubbling up all day to suddenly spill over.

“no! i hate you, mommy!” the words slammed into the air like a door slamming shut.

CLUNK.

the toy truck in his hands whipped through the air before you could even blink, bouncing hard off the far wall and skidding across the floor. your mouth fell open, your breath caught in your chest. you stood frozen, not from fear—but heartbreak. the sharpness of his words cut deeper than anything, but what stunned you most… was the look in his face. angry. frustrated. lost. like his little chest just couldn’t hold it all anymore.

“emmett—” you barely started. but you didn’t have to finish. because the front door opened with a slow creak, and heavy bootsteps echoed against the wood. rafe had just gotten home.

and he heard everything.

the toy being thrown against the wall.

the yelling.

the silence that followed.

you turned just as he stepped into the room—sunlight casting a halo behind his dirty neon orange work shirt, arms tan and tense from work, his hat pulled low, eyes immediately scanning the scene. he saw the toy across the room. he saw your face—shocked, wide-eyed, hurt. and then he saw emmett.

rafe’s jaw clenched, hard. he turned his gaze back to emmett, his shoulders squared as he stepped in with purpose, calm but with thunder in his veins. he spoke, voice even. “the hell’s goin’ on in here?”

emmett stiffened. his little face was red, blotchy, guilt already blooming in his chest. when he didn’t answer, rafe stepped closer, his voice low. “i asked you a question, son.”

emmett glanced up, then down again, “i was mad,” he mumbled.

rafe crossed the room in three long strides, reached down and lifted emmett gently—but firmly—under the arms, setting him on the couch. not rough, not loud—just serious enough to shake the air. “scoot back,” rafe ordered. emmett scrambled back, breathing hard. his small hands curled into fists against his jeans.

rafe crouched down in front of him, one hand braced on his knee, the other resting on the couch beside emmett’s leg. his eyes were locked on his son’s, blue and blazing. “you wanna be mad?” he said, voice low and controlled. “that’s fine. we all get mad. but you do not talk to your mama like that. not ever.” emmett blinked fast, his lower lip wobbling. “do you understand me?”

he nodded. “i didn’t hear you,” rafe said, sharper now. “do you understand me?”

emmett sniffled. “yes, daddy.”

rafe pointed toward you without turning his head. “that woman over there—have you ever heard me speak to her like that?”

“no, sir.”

“have you seen me throw things at her? raise my voice like that? make her cry?”

emmett’s face crumpled. “no.”

rafe leaned in a little closer, his voice quieter now, but firm as ever. “you know why?” emmett nodded. “tell me.”

“because… she’s your wife.”

“uh huh. she’s my wife,” rafe muttered. “and you know damn well no one talks to my wife like that. not only that, but she’s also your mama. she’s the one who loves you more than anything on this earth. she takes care of you when you’re sick, when you’re scared, when you can’t sleep at night. she makes your breakfast, folds your clothes, kisses you goodnight even when you’ve been awful. and today?” he shook his head. “you looked at her and told her you hated her.”

a tear rolled down emmett’s red cheek. his chest heaved with a shaky breath. “i didn’t mean it,” he whispered.

rafe stood, slow and heavy, like the weight of the whole conversation was on his back. he looked down at his son for a long moment, then nodded toward you.

“then i think you know what you need to do.”

emmett didn’t hesitate. he slid off the couch and ran straight into your arms, his little face already damp with tears. “i”m sorry, mama,” he sobbed, burying himself in your shirt. “i didn’t mean it—i don’t hate you—i love you, i’m so sorry!”

you knelt down, cupping his flushed cheeks, brushing his bangs from his wet forehead. “i know, baby,” you whispered. “i know. i love you too.”

rafe stood back quietly, his hand on his hip, watching the two of you with tight eyes and a chest that rose and fell like he was finally letting go of something heavy. you looked over at him, silently thanking him. he gave a quiet nod. that was all he needed to say. he had your back. always.

standing ovulation or whatever they say

smutty request!!! shy!reader loves when dean dirty talks but shys away when he asks her to speak up during sex

omg yes !!!! this is a fun lil trope !!! 18+ <3

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

it’d be all like “shit, look at you, baby. you feelin’ good?”

and you’re blushing, overwhelmed and completely overstimulated by dean and the way he handles your body with expertise. your face burns and your cunt flutters around him as butterflies stew in your stomach.

“c’mon, angel,” dean grunts out as he thrusts, “talk to me.”

the smirk on his face is devious, and the way his hand pinches and rubs at your clit is downright mean—he knows exactly how to work you up until you can’t help but babble out the words you’re trying to hold back from spilling out.

he feels you squeeze and tense around his dick, gripping him like you’re about to melt into the mattress. a squeak escapes you. and then a whimper. and then a full guttural moan.

“oh, there she is.”

your timid nature washes away as the floodgates open from dean’s magic fingers and his chubby cock splitting you open.

“fuck– fuck, dean! shit! please! feels so good!”

dean grins. there's his girl.