Shane Walsh Smut In The Works Bc No One Writes Smut About His Fine Ass, And I’m Sick Of It!

Frank Castle with the smut prompt

“Please don’t stop”

But it’s him saying it instead of the reader 👀

Love your work btw

A/n: okay I'm actually really proud of this one. Although it did not go the originally planned way. Thank you for requesting anon and I hope you enjoy! 18+ minors dni (f! reader)

He gets lost in you. You blur his thoughts, tear him away from the world, get him drunk on your smell and touch.

You’re so pretty on top of him, eyebrows furrowed and bottom lip drawn between your teeth. Your hands drag across his skin, electricity running through his veins and nerves, sparking under the faintest of your touch. But when you let your nails slide across his flesh he can’t help the shiver that tingles up his spine, skin turning red and goosebumps rising under your wake.

He can’t tear his eyes away from you.

They stay locked on you, trained on you with such intensity and adoration. They trail across your form, taking in every curve, every dip, every blemish. It makes his heart swell, blossom with tender care, makes his hands ache with the need to touch you, his cock fill out impossibly harder.

He doesn’t understand how you could ever see any imperfection in your form. It hurts him when he finds you in front of the closet mirror, hands drifting across your skin with hesitation, eyes full of disgust, lips downturned in sorrow.

He wishes he could do more than firmly embrace you, do more than tell you how beautiful you are, do more than watch helplessly as you assure him you’re alright when he can clearly see you’re not.

 I love you so much, but why can’t you see it?

He wishes he could show you how you’re the prettiest girl. He wishes he could put name to and tell you the emotions that swell in him. He wishes you could see yourself with his eyes.

Especially right now.

Your hips slowly roll down on him, moving along with him, movements coated in sugary honey. Mouth open, lips plush from his previous kisses, Jesus Christ I want to kiss them again. Your chest expanding and falling with each breath, each moan you let out. It’s a lewd melody that mixes with the harmony of your cunt greedily- wetly sliding along him. Your eyes are shut, closed in bliss and ecstasy. Lashes fluttering and dewy as your nerves feel ignited and fiery.

You’re the epitome of sin.

Your tits bounce and heave as you move against him, nipples erect and begging for him to put his mouth on them, run his tongue along the hardened peaks, lightly nip and draw out gasps from you as your hands find and grasp the back of his head.

His hands grab your hips, relishing in the pliant flesh of them, the softness that is so unlike the callosus on his fingers. It makes his head swirl with the primal instinct to protect you, to never let any harm come to you. A flame sparking in his soul, one that is a confusing mix of emotions and feelings. Ones he knows and can name as adoration, care, lust, want, worry, fright, but others that puzzle him and keep him up at night.

But two things keep him sane. Two pieces of information that make him feel like he’s found the meaning to life, cracked the old troubling code that philosophers have been plagued with for centuries.

He loves you. And you love him.

You make his heart race, beat skipping a few pumps. Those two statements keep him tethered to the Earth, give him a reason to keep fighting, to keep living. He’s fallen head over heels for you.

The skin of his groin is shiny, matching the way your inner thighs gleam in the light with your slick. It’s dazzling, a sight he sears into his mind, one he will never let go. And it’s captivating when your cunt spasms, your body seizing as you cum, spurting out and soaking him in your release.

Fuck that’s a sight.

He’s tempted to pull you up to his mouth, let you sit atop his jaw and let him lick you clean. To completely worship you as you beg and whine and mewl and holy fuck I can’t think. But he can feel your heartbeat running rampant and his own speeds up to meet your pace. He starts moving his hips, unconsciously at first, caught in a need to pleasure you.

Your eyelids slide open, letting you gaze down at him. His breath hitches as you meet his eyes, his heart skips a beat, his hips stutter. He’s completely tangled in your spell, soul bound to yours as emotion fills his body.

It crashes over him like waves against a cliffside, big swells of love rushing and surging through him. It’s overwhelming and addicting and and and

Please don’t stop.

He’s not sure if he actually says it or what he’s asking of you. But when you dip down and press your lips to his own, the feeling only grows. And through some unspoken bond he can tell, knows that you are feeling the same thing, that you understand the uncontrollable, irresistible, raw intimacy and love.

When you pull back to catch your breath he finds that he chases you, craves you even after only a second of loss.

“Please don’t stop.”

He says it soft and barely audible, voice cracking under the intensity, the unrestrained devotion.

Don’t stop kissing me. Don’t stop touching me. Don’t stop loving me.

He feels like he could cry. Like if he’s not completely engulfed in you, he’ll perish. You’re his life, his world, his everything. Your soul reaches out to his own, echoing the same things through his head, reassuring his fears and insecurities and wounds. A mantra of promises.

I won’t. I won’t. I won’t.

blue collar!rafe overhears his sons friends simping over you :0

cw : cussing, lewd language, emmett & his friends are 17/18

they shouldn’t have been talking about you. they really shouldn’t have been talking about you in rafe cameron’s house. but emmett and his buddies? not exactly known for their genius.

“dude, i’d risk it all for your mom,” tyler was saying, legs kicked up on the coffee table. “like, respectfully—”

“respectfully my ass,” marcus cut in, laughing. “ain’t nothin’ respectful about the way you were starin’ at her ass earlier.”

griffin shook his head, grinning. “if i was mr. cameron, i wouldn’t leave the damn house. i’d be hittin’ that shit all day.”

emmett groaned, tossing a throw pillow at marcus. “y’all are sick, that’s my mom, bro.”

“c’mon,” tyler grinned. “she’s milf and you know it.”

“seriously,” marcus added. “you think your dad gets tired of it? or is he just like… constantly—”

“constantly what?”

the voice didn’t belong to any of them. all four heads whipped around, blood draining from their faces in unison. rafe stood in the doorway—boots still dusty from work, forearms filthy, shirt sticking to his chest from the heat. he’d clearly just come in. silently. stealth mode. but from the amused look on his face, he’d been listening for a while. emmett slapped both hands over his face. “oh my God.”

“hi boys,” rafe said with a smile that could kill. no one breathed. he walked further into the room, that confident, slow stride that somehow made him even scarier. “y’all have a good day at school?” not a single one of them answered. rafe nodded thoughtfully, wiping his hand on a rag from his back pocket. “you know, it’s funny,” he said, eyes flicking between the boys. “i leave for ten hours to keep a damn roof over my family’s heads… come home, and the first thing i hear is how three of my son’s friends wanna fuck my wife.”

tyler made a noise like he was choking, marcus paled, and griffin looked one second away from vomiting on the rug. rafe’s smirk grew. “now i get it—teenage boys, hormones, poor impulse control. but lemme clear one thing up real quick,” he leaned forward just slightly, eyes twinkling. “she’s mine.”

he let the words hang in the air before continuing, voice smug as ever. “you wanna know if i get tired of hittin’ that?” he scoffed, shaking his head. “hell no. i thank God every damn morning that i get to come home to that woman.”

“ew, dad—“ emmett groaned, praying that his dad would shut his mouth. the other boys just stared, frozen.

rafe stepped back toward the kitchen, already grabbing a beer from the fridge. but he couldn’t resist the final blow—turning over his shoulder and grinning wide. “sorry to break it to y’boys, but i don’t think y’all really have a chance…‘specially since she’s been moanin’ my name since 2015.”

“oh my g—dad, STOP!” emmett shouted, face in his hands again, mortified.

rafe just laughed, ruffling his son’s hair as he walked by. “lighten up, son. it’s not my fault your mom’s hot.” and with that, he disappeared into the hallway. the silence that followed was painful.

until griffin open his big mouth again, “okay…but, like… your dad’s kinda hot too?”

tyler burst out laughing. marcus started wheezing.

emmett let out a long groan. “okay, can y’all stop simping over both of my parents?!”

x p!link 𐚁 ⊹ . 𖥔 ˚ [ cw: use of “daddy” once in blurb ]

older!bf!beau has warned you before. “sweetheart, you can’t just prance around in your short skirts and tight shirts at my work. you’ll get my guys distracted and they won’t be able to do their jobs. and you know i don’t like them lookin’ at ya either, babydoll. lookin’ at ya like you’re all available.”

but do you listen to him? mmm, no. of course not.

so as you’re thrown over beau’s knee with your skirt pulled up over your bum, you finally realise he wasn’t joking with his warnings.

“you don’t listen. and girls who don’t listen get their discipline smacked into them until they learn. i’m done being nice, little lady, i warned you.”

beau is quick with his practiced spanks. the sharp sting of his hits inflames your delicate flesh, staining it red with growing welts in the shape of his large handprint.

“told you, angel. i gave you plenty of warnings not to drop by my office like that… especially unannounced like today.”

his voice is low and steady, dripping with that southern twang that makes your cunt drool as he keeps abusing your poor reddened globes.

you whimper and whine, your legs thrashing around as you tell him it hurts… and that you didn’t do anything :(

but beau’s over it, and he’s no pushover. he slings his leg over yours, keeping you still in his lap. his hand meets your skin again and again and again, until tears prick at your eyes.

“mmph– please, m’sorry!” you finally break.

beau lands one final smack to your ass before rubbing over the swollen skin with his warm palm, soothing away the sting. “yeah, you sure as hell better be, darlin’. you’re gonna listen to me from now on, aren’t you?”

“yes, daddy,” you mutter pitifully.

“that’s my girl.”

your camera roll if you were dating simon

simon riley x fem reader

dilf!art donaldson x wife!reader

dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

dilf!art who is ready to give his children the childhood he wishes he had.

no boarding school and teen angst, but instead home cooked meals every night when you’re both aren’t too busy.

dilf!art who will leave notes around the house confessing his love to you over and over again, each time making you swoon more.

he never thinks it through that his children may find some of the more risqué ones in the pantry to ask him innocent questions about as he tucks them into bed.

dilf!art who confessed sleepily to you that he wanted a little girl the first time you slept over at his place.

he secretly hopes it sticks every time you ‘make love’, as he likes to call it.

dilf!art who would do anything for his family.

seriously, we’re talking going to the ends of the earth, flying to the moon and back, around the world in half an hour type of level commitment.

dilf!art who never realises when the single (or even sometimes the unhappily married) moms at your youngest daughters preschool, are trying to come on to him.

he’s all “my wife told me that…” “you’ll never guess what my girl did for me yesterday!” he’s just so blinded by his love for you; his beautiful woman who gave him his perfect little family.

guys…this is the first thing i’ve put on here so pleasepleaseplease be nice if it’s shit 🫡

but if you like it GIVE ME SOME REQUESTS!!! my inbox is always open and ready for inspo

I love dad bods 🥰

do you see of the Rafe’s in your AU’s having dad bods?

okay okay okay

blue!collar!rafe scc!rafe boxer!rafe

sexist!rafe ex!husband!rafe military!rafe

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.

ooo continuing ur last oral fixation post i think jj would love if reader keeps on biting him … his beefy arm is out n ofc she has to put it in her mouth yup

mhm mhm mhm!! like you’re just sitting with the pogues n you’re laying your head on his shoulder and you just sink your teeth into his beefy arm when he’s wearing one of those tight t-shirts that make him look xtra beefy😋😋 prime time beefy jj was start of season two he was soooo !!

but he’d act like he hates it at first but just gets used to it and just likes feeling needed and having you there right next to him is nice hehe. but when people asks he’s like “she just does that sometimes.” just dismissing it like it’s normal lolll

Rafe with a bigger girl.

She gets insecure really easily so Rafe will fuck the shit out of her.. “fucking those stupid little thoughts out of your head baby” he’d say..

ugh he’s so sexy

rafe wouldn’t waste a second once you two were behind closed doors, easily stripping you out of your clothes so he could knead your flesh with rough hands. he’s praising you and telling you how perfect you are as he leaves kisses across your skin, your previous insecurities melting away into nothing as he touches you like he can’t believe you’re real. “everyone is so fuckin’ jealous of you.. they wish they could be this sexy without trying.” you’re struggling to kiss him while he drills into you, the bruising grip he has on your hips making you whine underneath him. “look at you taking my cock like the perfect slut you are,” your eyes are rolling back when you feel him reach depths like never before, “..fucking those stupid little thoughts out of your head, baby?” rafe doesn’t stop until you’re nodding helplessly, your heart fluttering in your chest as he continues to shower you with compliments.

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 ><