jack

please, please, please don't prove I'm right

𓆩♡𓆪 hey, i’m jack ⋆ 19 ⋆ crime & medical shows | iced coffee | midnight playlists

⤷ now watching: ˚₊· criminal minds ˚₊· law & order: svu ˚₊· grey’s anatomy ˚₊· house m.d.

⤷ soft spots: 💎 sabrina carpenter 💎 blue + dreamy vibes 💎 overthinking characters

and like

the John Munch piece is all I can think about 😭

Would you be willing to perhaps do some Richard Belzer x Reader too? Johns actor

its okay if not just thought I’d ask

don’t overwork yourself:) Hope you’re doing well!

🌷

one hand teases her nipple through the lace of her bra while the other drags her vibrator—sleek, clinical, the kind of toy she bought in multiple colours—up and down her slit until her pussy glistens, lips swollen and needy. she watches herself in the glass, eyes hooded, mouth slack as she circles her clit, letting the vibrations make her thighs tremble.

omfg

feel free to absolutely do more if you ever feel like it cuz I’m eating this up

(the person who asked for it btw<3)

🌷

tysm, i'm glad you enjoyed it!

you can already feel the thick heat of her cock through her slacks, pressing against your stomach, hard and heavy. the pressure alone makes you whimper into her mouth, and that needy sound earns you a growl from her chest. her hand finds your jaw, tilts your head back so she can kiss you deeper, devouring every gasp you make.

she pulls back just enough to breathe, her lips shiny with spit, eyes dark and wild. “bedroom,” she rasps, but she doesn’t wait for you to move. she takes your wrist and drags you, her stride purposeful, her cock straining against the fabric. when you stumble, she steadies you with a hard grip on your waist, shoving you through your own doorway until you’re falling back against the mattress.

she peels her blouse off first, buttons popping under her impatient fingers, exposing the swell of her breasts rising and falling with every heavy breath. her bra straps slip down her arms, and for a moment you’re caught staring at the soft curves before your eyes trail lower, watching her undo her belt slow, deliberate—like she knows you’re watching. she pulls her cock free, flushed and veiny, long and thick, the swollen head glistening with precum.

“eyes here,” she orders, and strokes herself lazily, letting a bead of slick roll down the shaft. she smears it with her thumb, spreading the shine, showing you every ridge, every vein, every twitch. your thighs rub together involuntarily, panties already clinging to your folds, soaked through.

she hooks a finger under the elastic and drags your panties aside, revealing your swollen, wet pussy lips glistening for her. “fuck, look at you,” she mutters, dragging the fat head of her cock through your slit, smearing your slick along her length. the friction makes both of you gasp, the sound obscene as your juices coat her. she teases your clit with the blunt head before sliding lower, pressing against your entrance but not giving in yet.

when she pushes inside, the stretch is brutal and perfect all at once. inch by inch, your walls struggle to take her, your pussy gripping tight around her thickness. she groans low in her throat as she buries herself deeper, forcing every bit of her cock inside until her hips are flush with yours. your body clenches, milk-tight, trying to accommodate her size, and the pressure makes your eyes roll back.

“so fucking tight,” she growls, rocking her hips just enough to feel you shudder. then she sets a pace—hard, relentless, her cock slamming into your g-spot with every thrust. your tits bounce with each sharp movement, nipples straining against the thin fabric of your top. her hand slips under, palming your breast, thumb and forefinger pinching your nipple until you cry out.

the slap of her hips against your ass fills the room, wet and loud as her cock drives into you over and over. your nails claw down her back, dragging lines into her skin through her blouse. she doesn’t stop, doesn’t even flinch, just snarls against your ear, “take it. squeeze my cock like the good girl you are.”

you can’t hold back—the orgasm rips through you fast and sharp, your pussy clenching so hard she has to grit her teeth to keep fucking you. slick gushes out around her shaft, soaking her thighs, the sheets, everything. but she doesn’t let up, pounding through your climax, chasing her own.

her groans deepen, her thrusts grow erratic, and then her cock jerks inside you, pulsing as she spills thick, hot cum deep in your cunt. you can feel every spurt flooding you, filling you so full it leaks back around her length even as she grinds to push it deeper. she keeps thrusting, slower now but no less forceful, making sure every drop is buried inside you.

when she finally pulls out, strings of her cum drip down your thighs, pooling beneath you. but she doesn’t let it go to waste. she drops to her knees between your legs, spreading you open with strong hands, and dives in. her tongue pushes into your pussy, licking up her own cum, slurping greedily as she fucks it back inside you.

you gasp, sob, overstimulated as her tongue thrusts deep, her nose grinding against your clit. she moans into your cunt, the vibrations making your thighs tremble around her head. her tongue scoops and pushes, tasting herself mixed with you, and it only makes her hungrier.

she doesn’t stop even when your pussy spasms with aftershocks, even when you’re begging. her eyes are half-lidded, glazed with hunger, as she devours you like she’s addicted. your cum and hers smear across her chin, dripping down her throat, but she only presses harder, tongue relentless, lapping every drop until you’re raw, drenched, and wrecked beneath her.

imagine john dragging himself into some bright, bustling café because you insisted the two of you needed to try their new seasonal drinks. he stands out instantly, trench coat and sunglasses, muttering about overpriced coffee and hipsters while you’re already bouncing at the counter, picking the most colorful drink on the menu. he sighs when you shove the cup toward him, telling him to try it, but his lips twitch when you practically vibrate with excitement. he takes a reluctant sip, makes a face, then mutters that it’s “not half bad” before handing it back. the whole time his hand never leaves yours, thumb tracing your knuckles, like even in a place he swears he hates, he’s tethered to you.

imagine john rolling his eyes when you buy him something as simple as a keychain, shaped like a smiling sun. he deadpans about how he’s too old for knickknacks, but a week later you catch him using it, jingling from his apartment keys. when you tease him about it, he says it’s because he can’t afford to lose his keys, but the way his lips twitch upward, betraying the smallest smirk, tells you it’s because every time he touches it, he thinks of you. it’s quiet affection, the kind he’ll never say out loud, but he wears it every day.

imagine john in bed with his glasses slipping down his nose, book open in his lap, while you ramble about your day. he doesn’t look up at first, his expression flat, but you notice the way his thumb rubs lazy circles into your thigh as you talk, a grounding touch that says he’s listening. when you finally finish your long-winded story, you expect him to tease you, but instead he shuts his book with a soft sigh and says something so precise, so thoughtful, it proves he absorbed every detail. you curl against his chest, his grumpy exterior softening as he kisses the top of your head before turning off the light.

imagine john hovering in the kitchen while you cook dinner, arms folded across his chest, muttering sarcastic commentary about your choice of recipe. he scoffs when you taste-test the sauce with a spoon and grin at him, telling him it’s perfect. he takes the spoon from you, tries it himself, and after a pause, admits it’s “not half bad.” then he sets the spoon down, steps behind you, and kisses the back of your neck, his voice gruff but fond as he mumbles about how he’s glad you’re around to feed him something better than takeout.

imagine john lying in bed, trying to act annoyed when you press your cold feet against his legs. he growls about how you’re impossible, about how you’re going to freeze him to death, but his arms wrap around you tighter, pulling you flush against him. he buries his face into your hair, muttering that you’re warm enough for the both of you. by the time you drift off, you can feel his breathing slow against your neck, every ounce of his grumpiness melting into a quiet need to keep you close.

imagine john suffering through a romcom you insisted on, his monotone commentary running the whole way through—he criticizes the acting, the plot, the clichés. but when the credits roll, you catch the way his arm is snug around your shoulders and the way he presses a kiss into your temple. he mutters that it “wasn’t the worst thing he’s seen,” which is as close to a rave review as you’ll ever get. you grin against his chest, knowing he secretly enjoyed it just because it was with you.

imagine john sitting across from you at a diner, watching you laugh with the waitress, your energy lighting up the whole place. he pretends to be buried in his menu, but you notice the corner of his mouth twitching when your laugh rings out. when you slide into the booth beside him instead of across, leaning into his side, he doesn’t move away. he grumbles about personal space, but his arm comes around you instinctively, pulling you closer as he keeps his eyes on the menu.

imagine john pretending he doesn’t care about goodbyes, brushing off your kisses with a muttered “you’ll be late,” but the second you turn to leave for work, he pulls you back by the wrist. he kisses you slow and hard, lingering, his grumpy exterior cracking just long enough to let the softness slip through. when he lets you go, he mutters something about how you’d better come home safe, his voice low, almost a growl. you leave glowing, while he leans back in his chair, sighing like you’ve completely unravelled him.

NSFW

imagine john sitting back in his old armchair while you straddle him, your skirt riding up as you grind down on the hard bulge in his slacks. his hands grip your hips tightly, groaning when your pussy rubs along the length of him. he mutters about how insatiable you are, how you never give him a moment’s peace, but his cock twitches under you, betraying how badly he wants it. you rock against him, whining softly, and he finally growls low in his throat, unzipping just enough to free his thick cock. when you sink down on him, his head falls back, glasses slipping down his nose, a rough moan tearing from his chest as he mutters how sweet your sunshine cunt feels taking him so deep.

imagine john fingering you on the couch, his long fingers stretching you open while you cling to his shirt. every slow curl of his fingers has your hips jerking, wetness dripping down his palm as his thumb presses into your clit. he smirks at your whines, muttering that his girl is “always such a mess for him.” your pussy clenches hard around his fingers, soaking his hand, and when you cum with a shuddering cry, he slides his fingers out slow, holding them up to his lips to suck them clean while his eyes stay locked on yours.

imagine john bending you over the kitchen counter, still half dressed from work, his tie brushing your back as he slams into you from behind. the stretch makes you gasp, your fingers gripping the edge of the counter, your pussy clenching around his cock as he mutters in your ear about how impatient you are, how you couldn’t even wait until the bedroom. his thrusts are deep and rough, his hands bruising on your hips, his gravelly voice low and steady as he tells you to take every inch like a good girl.

imagine john taking his time in bed, slow and deliberate, pushing his cock into you until you’re shaking with overstimulation. he locks eyes with you, his rough voice teasing about how addicted you are, how you can’t go a day without him stretching you open. every thrust is deep and controlled, his chest pressed against yours, his lips brushing your ear as you beg for more. when you cum, he doesn’t stop—he fucks you through it, groaning when your pussy squeezes him so tight he almost loses control himself.

imagine john fucking you until tears streak your cheeks, his cock pounding into your sweet spot relentlessly. his hand covers your mouth to muffle your cries, his growl in your ear telling you not to wake the neighbours. you’re trembling, clenching around him, your juices slicking down his cock and onto the sheets. when you finally break and cum hard, sobbing his name, he fucks you harder, groaning that you feel like heaven when you’re gushing all over him.

imagine john pushing your head down onto his cock, his hand firm at the back of your head while you choke on his length. his low groans fill the room as your lips stretch around him, your tongue dragging along the underside of his shaft. he calls you his good girl in that raspy voice, keeping you steady as you swallow him down. when you gag, he eases up, thumb brushing your cheek, but the look in his eyes is dark and hungry, cock throbbing as he pushes back into your throat.

imagine john letting you ride him, arms folded behind his head, smirking up at you as if he isn’t being undone by your pussy milking his cock. you bounce on him, moaning loudly, your nails raking his chest, and he mutters about how desperate you look grinding down on him. but then his control snaps—his hands grab your hips, slamming you down harder, cock hitting so deep you scream. his grumpy mask cracks, and the groans he lets out are filthy and raw as he watches you fall apart on top of him.

you brush shoulders with her as she leans slightly forward to chat with a judge her composure flawless every bit the professional while under the table her hand slides into her bag and presses the tiny remote she gave you a low hum instantly hitting your clit you cross your legs subtly your thighs clenching to hide your reaction your breath hitching and heart hammering every soft vibration making your body ache in delicious anticipation

casey doesn’t miss a beat she keeps talking smoothly to the judge beside her her voice calm and even as her own fingers ghost over her soaked folds under her skirt the faint slick coating her palm making her smirk as she watches your thighs shift nervously every pulse of the vibrator sending shivers through your core she presses it again a little harder and you whimper softly into your napkin, aware of the judges’ polite laughter and the adas’ quiet conversation a few tables away, the risk making every nerve scream

you can’t help yourself any longer and slide your fingers under the table to rub your clit along with the buzzing toy her heat presses against you as your hands tremble and your hips start to jerk subtly in time with the vibrator every pulse making your pussy throb and your juices slicking your panties she presses two fingers deep into herself, circling slowly, gliding over her swollen folds, letting out soft, almost inaudible moans while continuing the conversation like nothing is happening the contrast between her control and your desperation makes your body coil tighter with every stroke

your fingers move faster, slick and trembling, your walls pulsing around the vibrating panties she gave you, every gasp and shiver echoing in your chest and catching her attention through the briefest of glances you feel her eyes on you, sharp and possessive, pressing you further over the edge until your body betrays you first your hips bucking slightly, a loud, shaky moan catching in the napkin your pussy clenching, milking around your fingers as you cum hard your thighs shaking and juices soaking the fabric

casey doesn’t break character she leans back slightly, pressing her fingers into her own soaked pussy, her walls clenching around her digits as a soft moan slips past her lips her breathing shallow, her eyes locked on yours as she cums quietly but intensely, her slit glistening and hot while her hand moves in rhythm with yours under the table

the two of you continue like this, subtle strokes, shared pulses, the low hum of the toy mixing with your mutual gasps and moans all while your eyes dart to the judges and adas around you, hyper aware of every polite laugh, every sip of wine, every nod, every glance, knowing that just one second of detection could ruin the game but also makes every touch, every slick movement, every pulse of your cum-soaked pussy feel ten times more intense

the moment she steps in, dropping her coat, your body reacts. you meet her at the couch, lips brushing hers before you start undressing her piece by piece. her blouse slides off her shoulders, her bra straps slipping down your fingers. you unbutton her pants slowly, drawing them down over her hips, your hands trailing lower until you’re easing her underwear off, revealing her completely to you.

you spread her thighs open, the heat of her sex greeting you instantly. her pussy is flushed, lips plump and glistening, already wet just from the way you’ve been looking at her. the outer lips are soft and swollen, slickness glimmering in the low light. when you press your thumbs gently to part her open, her inner folds are glistening, pink and tender, her clit peeking out, sensitive and needy, already throbbing for attention. the wetness gathers there, sweet and salty, coating your fingers when you stroke along her slit.

you bend down, your tongue flattening against her, dragging from her entrance up to her clit, gathering every drop of her taste. she’s warm, intoxicating, a mix of salt and sweetness that coats your mouth. her hips jerk at the contact, her voice spilling out in soft gasps. you suck her clit gently, rolling it between your lips, flicking your tongue over it in steady strokes while your fingers slide through her folds, dipping just inside to feel how wet she is.

the sounds are obscene—your mouth working against her, her slickness spreading across your chin, the wet suck of your lips as you devour her, all layered with the breathy moans she can’t hold back. she’s trembling under you, fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer, grinding against your face. you bury your tongue into her, tasting her deeply, the walls of her pussy fluttering around you as you fuck her with your mouth, then return to her clit, relentless, making her gasp and whine.