#t: Ear For Trouble

[icewindandboringhorror]

sometimes looking at like Self Help Strategies lists for the symptoms I'm having is always just like:

thing that I already do

thing I have tried 10 times

thing I already do

thing that I don't have the money to do

thing I already do

thing I've been doing since I was 10yrs old to no avail

thing that is impossible given my situation

thing that doesn't apply to me

thing that I already do

thing I have already tried

hrmm, oh wait, maybe finally- OH, yeah.. okay. thing that I already do but it was just phrased slightly differently

thing I have already done

[bunnis-monsters]

A bunny breeding his pup

Commissioned by @dumbdoggygirl

Bunny Hybrid x Puppy Hybrid!Reader

warnings: breeding, knotting, pregnancy sex, pheromones, lactation, cervix kiss

summary: Bunny hybrid Momo stands up to a wolf hybrid and walks you home. The two of you become friends then start dating, but when you go into heat you’re afraid he might not be able to keep up with your puppy hybrid stamina. Little did you know, the saying “breeding like rabbits” was very accurate…

Word count: 5k words

You have had trouble trusting people lately. Male hybrids only wanted one thing, and that was mating.

The thought was always in the back of your mind when you went out into town or wandered back home a bit too late at night. If you didn’t keep yourself safe, no one would.

This was all before you met him.

It had been a long day, and all you wanted was to pick up something sweet before going home to your little cottage in the woods. It was always a bit scary coming home from work, especially when the moon wasn’t able to guide your way due to the fluffy clouds blocking it.

You were planning on plopping down on your soft, warm bed and passing out as soon as you walked in your door… but fate had something else in mind.

“Hey, pretty girl!”

An annoyed sigh left your lips as you turned to look to your left. There was a wolf hybrid approaching, his shoulders relaxed and his stride confident.

“You look like you’d appreciate someone walking you home. There’s a lotta bad guys out here, you know?”

His arm wrapped around your shoulder roughly, causing you to stumble forward before you steadied yourself.

You, politely as you could manage, pushed his arm off of your shoulder, trying to give him a smile. “Ahh, I’m okay, but thanks.”

When he kept following you, your heart began to race. You could feel his eyes on you, and knew he saw you as something to prey on, a slab of meat to a hungry predator.

“Come on, pup. You’re gonna turn down a nice guy trying to help you out. Don’t be a bitch…”

He attempted to reach for your wrist, but you wrenched it away. “I said I’m okay… please, just leave me alone…”

This only seemed to anger him, the wolf puffing out his chest as his ears pinned back. A low growl could be heard as he advanced on you.

“Leave you alone? I-“

Before he could speak any further, a figure rushed between the two of you, standing with his back to the wolf.

“Hey, sweetheart. I saw that you weren’t home yet and came to meet you halfway. All our friends are waiting for us, I said we’d be back in five minutes.”

The person in front of you was a bunny hybrid with soft, curly hair and fluffy bunny ears atop his head. He gave you a sweet smile as if he had known you his entire life and looped his arm with yours.

“Ahh, do you know this man?” the bunny hybrid asked, his eyes cutting to the wolf hybrid, his yellow orbs losing all the warmth they had when he looked at you.

The wolf spluttered, holding up his hands, obviously turned off when he heard there were people looking for you. “W-was just gonna walk her home. Never mind…”

The bunny hybrid stayed by your side, his eyes never leaving the wolf as he scurried away.

“Damn wolf hybrids think that they can scare people like that, but the second they know they could be caught they run off!”

The bunny’s foot thumped against the ground rapidly, indicating he was pissed at the situation. You smiled, reaching out to tug on his sleeve.

“Thank you for that. Most hybrids would be too scared to stand up to a wolf like you did.”

He turned back to look at you, a smile stretching across his face. When you really looked at him, your first thought was that he looked… really cute.

“No problem. Are you alright?”

His cotton tail twitched as your puppy tail perked up. “Yes, I’m okay. Just…”

You winced, and he noticed your wrist that had been grabbed was a bit swollen.

“Ahh, that asshole… if you put some ice on it when you get home, that should help with the swelling and hopefully prevent a bruise from forming.”

The bunny tilted his head as your ears lowered, your tail wagging a bit. “Can I… ask your name?”

His ears flicked as he nodded rapidly. “Yes, I’m Momo. And you?”

You smiled, offering a hand. “I’m (Name), nice to meet you.”

Momo ended up walking you home, making sure that he kept you safe from anything that dared to come close. For a bunny hybrid, he was quite tough.

And as far as males went, he was the sweetest thing you’d ever encountered. To no one’s surprise, you were quick to exchange numbers with him.

The two of you became friends rather quickly. It wasn’t until long that you found out Momo was single, just like you. He was so soft and sweet, and every morning you received a text asking how you were doing and if he could come over when you weren’t busy.

It made your heart beat faster, a fuzzy feeling taking over your body that made your tail wag uncontrollably…

Was this… what having a crush was like?

You met up with him one afternoon, wearing your favorite dress, one he had said made your eyes sparkle. Momo always knew how to make you feel shy and flattered.

“Hey, pretty pup!”

You turned at the sound of his voice, your tail wagging as soon as you caught a whiff of his scent. His own cotton tail twitched, a smile lighting up his face.

“Hi, Momo. What did you want to talk about?”

The bunny had called you a few hours ago, asking for a last minute meeting at a cafe. This was strange to you, he usually asked to come to your home or his to spend time together. You had only known him for a few months now, but you felt like you knew him enough to tell something was different about this.

Momo scratched the back of his head, his fluffy bunny ears twitching. “Well… I thought a public place would be better for the question I want to ask.”

Your curiosity was piqued, and it was obvious by the way your tail picked up speed that you were excited. “Well come on, let’s order some coffee and talk!”

After settling into a booth and some small talk, Momo suddenly became very serious, looking at you fondly.

“I’ve… really enjoyed all the time we’ve spent together.”

Your cheeks heated up, and you found yourself fidgeting with your skirt. “I have too. It’s really been the best part of my day when you call me.”

His bunny ears twitched, his hand reaching out to hold yours.

“Will… you be my girlfriend?”

Your eyes widened with surprise, your heart thundering inside of your chest as your tail wagged furiously behind you. It was obvious how you felt just by the way your tail thumped against the booth behind you.

“Y-yes!”

The two of you shared bashful smiles, and he nuzzled his nose against yours. The rest of the date was filled with giddy giggles and yummy snacks, and by the end he was ready to take you home.

For the next few months, the two of you fell in love, unable to stay apart from each other for long. He visited you often, his soft bunny ears making him easy to spot in crowds when meeting up together.

It didn’t take long for you two to kiss for the first time. It was on your third date, and seeing his cute cotton tail twitch when your lips met was the cutest thing you had ever seen.

The first bit of intimacy the two of you shared was while the two of you watched a movie together at your apartment. It was a sappy romcom, and he was feeling a bit bored… so his hand trailed down your thigh, playing with the fabric of your sleep shorts.

“Mmm, you keep watching the movie, princess…”

Your puppy tail wagged a bit as he moved to kneel in front of you, his soft nose nuzzling against your thigh. He looked up at you for permission, his teeth nibbling on your soft flesh.

This was the first time a male had ever been so close to you, but you nodded, trying to pay attention to the movie while he kissed your pussy through your panties.

It wasn’t long before you were soaking through the thin fabric, unable to concentrate on the movie anymore. The lewd sounds of him lapping up your slick and sucking on your clit through your panties was too loud, making your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“P-Please, Momo… more, I need it…”

He tilted his head, looking up at you through his soft lashes. “More..? Okay, puppy…”

Momo pushed your panties to the side, giving your bare pussy a sniff before burying his face between your thighs.

You let out a muffled moan, covering your mouth as he latched onto your clit, sucking and keeping your thighs apart so he could taste your sweet juices.

The way he looked up at you with those sweet golden, yellow eyes of his with such lust and adoration had you cumming within seconds.

He stayed between your head like that for at least 30 minutes, bringing you to orgasm several times before you were too blissed out to even think.

Momo smiled, his cotton tail wagging as he crawled onto the couch, pulling the blanket over the two of you and pulling you to his chest.

“Goodnight, puppy…”

——————————

You felt embarrassed, almost… shy. Your heat cycle was coming, and you had a date with Momo. It was going to be your 6 month anniversary, and you really didn’t want to miss it!

But…

Although Momo had saved you and was so sweet to you, there was always a voice in the back of your head saying he would never be able to handle your heat. He was just a bunny hybrid, and you were a puppy.

It made you sad, really… would you have to break up with him one day and be with someone with a similar heat cycle to you? Maybe a wolf or puppy hybrid…

As the date approached, you told yourself that you would just go… but when it was finally time to get dressed, your heat hit you like a tsunami.

You writhed on the bed, fingers doing nothing to ease the ache in your cunt. It took everything you had to text Momo that you couldn’t come. You didn’t bother to read his reply, just turning onto your belly, lifting your hips to try and shove your fingers deeper inside.

It felt like you could just burn alive, a pit in the bottom of your belly forming. It had never been so intense before, all you wanted to do was scream! Maybe your body was reacting to Momo’s scent. It was all over your apartment after all, and you buried your face into a hoodie he left behind, whimpering in absolute agony.

Your heats had never been easy, but in the past at least you had been able to deal with them without too much struggle. Now it felt impossible, you couldn’t even orgasm by yourself!

As you began to cry into his hoodie, you thought you could almost hear his voice. Your mind was a bit hazy from your heat… but it felt comforting.

You wish you would have just asked him to come over… now you were too weak to do anything besides sniffle and cry into his hoodie.

“Puppy!”

The sound of Momo’s voice became much clearer. Your puppy ear twitched, and you picked up his scent in the air. That wasn’t just some of his lingering musk…

“Puppy, I’m here! Please, let me in. I n-need you!”

You could only whimper, blabbering out a reply through your tears. “C-can’t! Can’t get up!��

It was silent for a moment, but then there was a loud BANG!

You looked on in shock to see the door beginning to splinter. Momo was breaking it down!

Momo wasn’t weak, but you had never thought he was capable of such feats of strength! Even the wolf hybrids you met in college wouldn’t be able to do that…

He kicked through, his leg breaking through the wood. He used the hole to reach his hand in and unlock the door. As soon as Momo was in, his eyes scanned the room for you.

“Baby…”

He walked over, dropping down to his knees by your bedside. His eyes scanned over your form, and you noticed how hazy those golden orbs of his were as he sniffed the air.

“You’re in heat… why didn’t you tell me?”

You struggled to speak, your pussy clenching around nothing as he stared down at you. The way he was looking at you… was he..?

“I w-was… embarrassed… and I didn’t want you to know. You’ve probably never been with a puppy hybrid before, you don’t understand how intense our heats are…”

You had heard tales from friends and family about how smaller hybrids would try and take on canines, seeing it as a challenge. They assumed they could take it, and would come out with good offspring because of the strong wombs of their mates.

But most failed to properly satisfy their mates, ending in unhappy partnerships and tears. You had been hoping to marry Momo, but you were afraid he may also be chasing some tail…

He was kind, you really liked him… but could he handle you like this? You were so desperate, you wanted to pounce and use him until his body broke! It was scary… you were losing the little control you had over your body!

Before you could speak again, you helped, feeling him pin you down with strength you would have never expected from such a small hybrid. He leaned over you, his face flushed but his eyes sharp.

“Oh, my sweet pup…”

He cooed, his pants stretching painfully over his aching cock. Precum leaked down his leg, his red cock barely contained by his pants.

“You’ve never been with a bunny hybrid, have you?”

Your eyes widened, and you were silenced when his mouth landed on yours. It was an instant connection, your tail wagging furiously as his tongue tangled around yours.

Though your cunt pulsed and ached with need and lust, your heart was soaring with love. His lips on yours always made you happy, but now you could almost feel his love and desire from you just from this kiss alone.

“Y-you’re… in rut?”

You gasped this out when he broke away, finally able to pick up his scent over your own heavy pheromones. Momo smiled, nuzzling his forehead against yours. “Yes… I am. I was hoping to spend it with you… if that’s alright.”

Your ears lowered and you tucked your puppy tail between your legs, considering his suggestion. Part of you wanted to say no, fearful that you may hurt him. You loved Momo after all, and would rather have an agonizingly painful heat cycle than lose him.

But the other part of you needed him. You could already feel his clothed cock rubbing against your fat cunt, begging to breed and mate with you. Your heat riddled mind was begging for you to say yes and mate, to be filled with cum and covered in his marks!

“Please…”

You looked up at him with hazy, teary eyes, playing with your own pussy to try and ease the searing heat in your loins. The only thing on your mind now was being bred by your lover and your belly swelling with his young. It’s all you could ever want or need.

Momo panted, his bunny ears twitching as he tugged his pants down, his fat red cock resting on your belly. He was much bigger than you expected, and your pussy yet again clenched around nothing while you imagined him inside of you.

“Gonna be inside my puppy…”

He prodded at your cunt, rubbing his precum and your slick together before pressing in. Momo hissed at how tight you were, his soft pink nose twitching as your sweet, warm pussy envelopes around him.

It was like heaven, being inside of you. Nothing could have prepared him for the utter bliss of mounting his pretty little puppy and taking your for his own.

Without much thought, be bit down on your neck and shoulders, his hips rutting into yours. You were so wet, so needy for him that he started thrusting right away. The sounds that came from your love making was lewd, loud squelching and moans filling the air.

Before long you were cumming, your cunt squeezing and milking his cock, but even as he filled you up with his seed, he didn’t stop.

After a few rounds you began to get tired, happy that he was able to last…

But Momo was far from finished.

You whined softly as he lifted your leg, continuing to fuck into your fat, warm cunt as his fingers played with your clit. Your neck was covered in hickeys, your chubby tummy protruding with his cum…

“M-Momo…”

You whimpered, your pussy swollen from abuse, but your lover only kissed along your neck, placing you on your tummy before climbing back up to mount you.

“Shh, puppy… not even close to being done…”

You yelped as he held onto your arms for leverage, his cock kissing your cervix as he fucked you deep. Your own fingers could never reach that far, and you knew Momo was trying to get you pregnant!

The only thing on his mind right now was his vision of you in a few months. You’d be waddling around, your breasts heavy with milk and belly swollen with his babies. Even since he laid eyes on you, he knew that he would be the one to breed you, to lay claim to your womb. You were his, and he’d make sure everyone in the world knew this fact.

He grabbed your tail, holding onto it as he knotted your sweet, warm pussy. You were just too cute, crying and overstimulated. Momo couldn’t wait to make you cum so much you couldn’t even think anymore!

Even after his knot swelled up inside of you, his hips continued to stutter and plap against your fat ass. He just couldn’t help it, you felt too good and he wanted to fuck you on his knot!

Your body felt so warm and exhausted, you could barely manage to lift your fluffy tail to give him access to your abused cunt so he could continue to pump you full of his cum.

Momo was too far into his rut to notice your exhaustion. His body was reacting to your pheromones and he was driven by pure instinct to knock you up.

He bit down on your neck, holding onto your hips as his knot deflated. The second he was able to properly fuck you again, Momo slammed his cock into you, kissing your cervix.

The night of mating was filled with tears, whines, and so, so much cum. You had never as tired as you were the next morning, your body covered in love bites and stuffed full of cum.

Momo was already awake, his cotton tail wagging as he played with your soft puppy ears. “Good morning, princess…”

He looked down at you, his cheeks pink and his eyes darting from your face to the side then back to you. With the way he had fucked you until you saw stars and cried, he was a bit embarrassed with how fat he had gone.

The bunny could remember knotting you several times, just to continue fucking you the second it deflated enough so he could move.

You whined as you turned to snuggle into your mate, burying your face into his neck. “Mmph… you really wanna give me a litter?”

His heart thumped against his chest so hard you were sure you could feel it. “Yes… I… I love you, (Name). I want to be with you, and make you a mother…”

You touched your nose to his, both of you letting off soft purrs and happy sounds as you spent the morning tangled together in an intimate embrace.

From a young age you had been taught that bunny hybrids were quite fertile. Even when mating with other species, it was almost guaranteed that with just one sexual encounter, pregnancy would be in your future.

And that information had been completely correct.

Momo was absolutely thrilled when he began smelling pregnancy hormones on you, and from then on he became insanely protective and touchy.

Watching your belly begin to grow made him… feel many things. It was physical evidence of the love you two shared, the intimacy and touch that created life within his beloved mate.

As your pregnancy progressed, he caught himself getting hard and horny every time he watched you go up a size in your pants or shirts, or when you had to stop wearing bras because your tits were too heavy and full of milk.

Getting to witness you in the morning when you leaked through your shirt and seeing your cute flustered face as he lifted the soiled fabric and lapped at your darkened nipples… it was pure bliss for him.

Sucking and nipping softly at your sensitive buds allowed the milk to flow, filling his mouth with that tasty, creamy liquid he had come to crave.

Momo could feel his cock hardening, and he felt almost shy. Just as your own body had been becoming sensitive and needy through your pregnancy, his was responding to yours.

When you whined and tugged at his pants, he sighed. “Puppy, I’m not sure if it’s safe for us to mate when you’re this far along… your belly is heavy and swollen, I don’t wanna hurt our kits…”

You pouted at him, puffing out your chubby cheeks at his hesitation. While he was so close, you could feel your body aching to mate with him. Momo’s scent made you feel so hot and bothered, if he didn’t fuck you soon you’d go crazy!

That’s when an idea came to your mind. Momo wasn’t exactly hard to seduce. In fact, he was usually more horny than you most days, much needier as well. If you played your cards right, he might not be able to help himself.

“Baby…”

You opened your legs a little, letting him get a whiff of your arousal. The mix of that and your pregnancy pheromones made his body tremble.

“Yes, my love..?”

You leaned forward, pouting as you nuzzled your face into his neck, rubbing your scent on him. “Can you please take care of me? I need you…”

That was his tipping point. How in the hell was he supposed to just sit by when his beloved mate was desperate for release?

‘Just have to be gentle…’ he thought as he lowered you onto the bed and rubbed his throbbing bulge against your clothed cunt.

The feeling of your soaked panties pressing against his hard on was enough to make him hiss out in a mix of pleasure and need. Momo wanted to be inside of his mate more than anything.

“Momo… please!”

You struggled to move your hips against his with your baby bump in the way. His hand settled over your swollen belly, keeping you in place. It made his heart and sick throb thinking about how he had put kits into that round belly of yours.

“Don’t worry, puppy. I’m gonna take care of you, I promise…”

He pulled your panties off before lifting your shirt, his eyes on those perky, darkened nipples of yours. Once you were bare, his hands explored your body in a reverent way.

The changes you were going through were because of him. He had bred his sweet pup, leaving you pregnant and heavy with his kits.

“You’re beautiful…”

His fat cock rubbed against your clit, and he lined up his lips with your nipple. Milk was already beading at your perky bud. Your breasts were heavy and swollen, something you had been complaining about earlier.

Momo was going to kill two birds with one stone. He would satisfy you sexually and milk your fat tits.

His cock pressed into you, almost agonizingly slow. Momo was being as gentle as possible, sinking into his gravid little mate while his tongue lapped up the milk bearding to the surface of your nipple.

“So good… like honey…”

You arched your back, whining and struggling to take his cock while you were so heavily pregnant. You felt stuffed full… in the best way.

“M-Momo… faster…”

His bunny ears flicked, his eyes half lidded as he struggled to keep himself from pounding you into the mattress.

Your puppy cunt was just so tight and you were begging for him… Momo wanted to go faster, to feel your spongy walls tighten around his knot.

But he continued to fuck you at an agonizing pace, making your puppy tail wag. He loves you so much, he didn’t want to hurt his precious mate!

It was when your milk spurted into his mouth when he hit that special spot that he lost a bit of control. His cotton tail began to wag with yours as his thrusts sped up, his hips rutting against you.

Plap! Plap! Plap!

You let out a whine as Momo lifted your leg, pressing it against your pregnant belly so he fuck you deeper. Every time his cock hit your g-spot your milk spurted out again. His hand squeezed and teased your other breast.

The sight of your milk spraying out of your nipple in little streams made him go crazy. He began fucking you like an animal, his mind gone. All that he could think was that he wanted to breed you, to stuff you full of his cum again.

He couldn’t remember you were already pregnant, he was trying to knock you up again!

“Momo, g-gonna-!”

Your puppy cunt clenched around him, causing Momo to grunt and grab hold of your fat hips. He was frustrated, it was already hard enough to fuck you with your pregnant belly in the way, now you were clenching around him and preventing him from being able to move.

Suddenly you were on your side, a pillow propping up your belly as your mate crawled behind you. His arm snakes under your side, grabbing onto your fat tit and groping it as his cock sunk into your again.

“F-fuck, you’re perfect…”

He lifted your leg, now able to fuck into you as deep as he wanted, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix.

Now he could properly please his mate and satisfy his need to breed you and unleash his seed into your womb.

Momo nipped at your neck, your tail brushing against his chest as he milked you. You felt sticky and warm, milk running down your chest and pregnant belly.

He could feel his knot beginning to swell, he was going to cum soon!

“Puppy… fuck, I love you so much…”

The feeling of your fat pussy being stretched so his knot could fit had you cumming again, and his cum spurted into your puppy cunt.

The two of you were left a panting mess, tails wagging and ears twitching as you came down from your respective highs.

Momo looked at his mate, his cheeks red and heart full of love. You looked beautiful like this, flushed from sex and pregnant with his kits.

He kissed the top of your head, nuzzling his face against your hair as the two of you waited for his knot to deflate.

“Did I satisfy you, pup? Seems like you’re pretty happy to me…”

You smiled, your body heavy with exhaustion. It took great effort to lift your arm and cup his cheek.

“You always do… my mate always takes care of me.”

You both shared a kiss, tails wagging in sync.

Two months later, Momo held your hand as you gave birth. It was a difficult process, but in the end you were able to give birth to 5 happy babies. Some had fluffy little bunny ears and cotton tails like their father, while others looked like you.

“Mmm, it seems like they like you.”

You smiled, watching as your mate helped you hold onto your little ones. He was easily able to soothe them as they fussed, it was clear they already knew who their father was.

Momo sat at your bedside, his cotton tail wagging excitedly while he watched you breastfeed the kits ans pups for the first time.

“They’re hungry little things…”

His mouth was watering, and once all of them were fed, you lifted your shirt up and smiled. “C’mon, it’s Papa’s turn.”

He nearly knocked over his chair rushing to join you in the hospital bed, making sure to keep his weight off of you as he settled and latched onto your breast.

Momo looked up at you with those golden eyes, and you gently scratched behind his fluffy ears. “Mmm, my big baby.”

He yelped and turned red when you slipped your hand into his pants, jerking him off. You knew that he got hard while drinking your milk, and you just loved toying with your cute mate.

“P-puppy, what if the nurse comes in-“

You continued you pump his cock, making him moan against your breast. “Shh… just lemme make you feel good…”

He stared up at you, nipping on your perky bud. “I’m going to get you back your this, pup.”

“Mmm, I know…”

It didn’t take much to make him knot your hand, his hips bucking as he groaned, cum staining his pants. “Maybe I wanna rile you up for later…”

Momo gave you a lazy smile, his eyes hazy from pleasure. “Someone wants me to knock her up again…”

“As soon as I’m recovered… I’m all yours. Promise you’ll take care of me during my next heat?”

“And every single one after that. We’re bonded, pup. I’m yours… forever.”

[moechies]

toji’s little pregnant wife who’s only pregnancy craving is his thick, bitter cum </3

“but.. i want it..” you pester toji, tugging on his arm. you groan at the way your big, soft belly gets in the way of completely smothering the man, but it doesn’t stop you.

“no,” he grunts back, shaking his hands off as he places back the last dish from your two’s meal prior. “i can’t have y’hurtin’ yourself. i’ll never forgive myself if ya do.”

“i-it’s a craving, toji,” you joke, but truthfully you know you’re serious. looking up at him with watery eyes, you’re undeniably desperate, your plush thighs growing achy and soft cunny growing hot at the thought. “please toji, wan’ y’r cum.” you purr.

he scowls, cursing at the hard bulge that undeniably presses against the countertop. he tried his very best to deny your little pleads , that’s enough right ? if his pregnant wife really insists, wouldn’t it be right to accept so ? he wonders.

“t-toji,” you moan, like a bunny in heat.

“fuck me, princess.”

“i-i wil—“

before you’re able to finish your sentence, he’s hoists you into his arms with no trouble, making his way towards the soft couch displayed in your home’s living room. you giggle uncontrollably when he nuzzles himself against your neck, blowing soft raspberries against your skin, which has grown sensitive throughout the term of your pregnancy.

“ill jus’ finger you, how about it ? i don’t want ya on yer knees , mama.”

“no.. n-not enough.” you mumble into his chest, tugging against his ribbed tank top. “wan’ your cock. in my mouth, your cum—“

he finds it hilarious, you’re so adorable. he thinks the celibacy for the sake of your two’s baby may have have been the cause of all this attention, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“insatiable little dolly, aren’t you ?”

“mhm, i missed you s’much.”

“‘m right here mama.” he lays you against the soft cushion, pressing a kiss against the back of your hand.

“y’sure ya wanna do this ? y’don’t have to.” as if you were doing it for his sake. your legs ache and shiver with anticipation, already able to feel your mouth salivating at the thought. “want to, i want to !”

“shh, don’t get so worked up, now.” he chuckles, “stress is bad for the baby.” he drops the softest plushie on the ground, and leading your supple body against his lower half. you sit obediently between his legs, sore cunt throbbing erratically at the anticipation.

“take him out, dolly.” he smirks, watching you tug down his thin sweats, huffing at the stiff bulge that presses against his cotton boxers. you fumble your little fingers against his cock, nervous at how he seems to be watching you so intently, watching your each and every move, finding any reason to stop.

your breath is hot against his budge, slithering your hand against his boxer clad cock before pulling the fabric below his plump balls. he groans at the juxtaposition of your soft fingers against his meaty dick; oh how much he missed the mere sight of such.

“‘m gonna cum just like this mama.” he jokes alongside panty groans, twitching when you press your plush lips against his tip without hesitation. you envelop your warmth around his swelling cock head, pink tongue lolling out and dragging through his hefty slit.

you moan at the taste of his salty musk coating your eager tongue, hands fondling at his pudgy balls as you ease yourself further closing in on his base.

“just like that, just like that mama. yer doin’ p-perfect.” he sighs, petting your hair gently. his fingers stroke through your soft locks, curling a finger around the stray pieces that’s fallen in front of your face, and tucking them behind your ear.

“gorgeous lady, my pretty wife, hm?” he watches you fuck your own cheek with his cock, drooling unexpectedly at the overwhelming girth. “juuust like that.”

“pwah—!”

“what’s wrong , dolly ?” he mumbles with a tint of worry. he runs a thumb across your swollen bottom lip, pressing his sticky thumb back into your mouth as you eagerly suck. “‘s-s too g-gud,” you mumble. “wan’ more.”

“s all yours, darling. take yer time.”

your hot breath causes toji to twitch, shoving his cock mindlessly back into your mouth. you press your throat onto the blunt tip, hot tongue swirling around the un-cut tip.

with a few more pumps of your hot mouth assaulting his sensitive tip, he spurts a heavy load into the warmth of your mouth with soft groans, hand leading yours to jerk at the rest of his cock. “fuck, damn.” he groans breathlessly, barely visible beads of sweat crowning at his forehead.

you swirl your nut-covered tongue against his dick, making a mess. it drools down his cock, dirtying his now-soft sack, coating your plush lips in a soft creme white. toji tugs on the cushion tightly, allowing you to have your fun although he’s well beyond overstimulation and close to passing out. not from the simulation itself, but the way you look so innocent below him, yet you’re really so nasty.

definitely his wife.

“that’s it.” he watches you slowly swallow his cum, throat bulging gently every time you take a gulp; just the prettiest sight. although your mouth emptied, lips licked clean, you continue licking at his dirtied shaft, taking everything you can get.

he scruffles your hair, a light tug at your head to pull your suckling lips away from his sensitive cock. he leans down, pressing a sloppy kiss against your lips and pressing your head to close in on him. he sucks on your flavorful tongue, tasting himself. “damn, doll. really haven’t lost yer touch, huh? no wonder we’re perfect f’eachother.”

[kianamaiart]

"Pretty Pretty Please I Don't Want to be a Magical Girl" Masterpost

"Pretty Pretty Please I Don't Want to be a Magical Girl" is a pilot animatic and (hopefully) soon to be series that follows Aika, a reluctant magical girl, her new friend, Zira and magical mascot, Hoshi. These days, all Aika wants is to be a normal girl but with her "nemesis" Eclipse and the all powerful Lady DeVoid causing trouble, that dream seems to be unlikely.

More under the cut!

CHARACTER BIOS

_____________________________

TURNAROUNDS

_____________________________

CHARACTER FUN FACTS

_____________________________

VOICE CAST

_____________________________

COMICS

You're a Star!

Aika-n Do It

Serve + Voice Acted Bit

Sacrifice

Hands

Crush

Advice

Kill

Touch

Cope

Purple Moons

Horns

Aika Plush Campaign 01

Aika Plush Campaign 02

Hoshi Plush Campaign

MISC. CHARACTER STUFF

Aika Then and Now

Guardian Angel

Tennis Player Zira

Miss Tattoos

Miss Then and Now

Lady DeVoid Ear Wiggles

_____________________________

OTHER

I have a lot of other artwork and doodles that I didn't feel were as relevant to put here but if you want to see them, they're under the tags I used below! So search them on my blog or my archive if you wanna filter out the asks and reblogs!

[kamitv]

▷ Premature

Sypnosis . How they react to getting caught jerking off/How they jerk off when you’re not around. / Pairings . (Separate) Toji Fushiguro x f!reader, Geto Suguru x f!reader, Gojo Satoru x f!reader, & Nanami Kento x f!reader / Content . afab!reader, masturbation, pervertedness, praise, needy men, filth, dirty talk, non-curse au, degrading, established relationships etc. / wc . 5.5k

A/N: not proofread in the slightest— I apologize in advance for the errors. This is a mix of two requests; one from my lovely 👍anon; If it's not too much trouble, would you take a request for how JJK men jack it to reader? To a picture, their thoughts, or maybe reader asks them perhaps? & jjk men getting caught jerking off [MDNI]

★ Toji Fushiguro

He’s the kinda guy that you could never be on the phone with past midnight. Why? Cause’ suddenly his voice is getting deeper, his comments are growing more suggestive, and he’s got a hand wrapped around his cock as he gets off to the sound of your voice.

What the hell are you even talking about? He’s got no idea, all he knows is that your soft tone, laced with such a faint sleepiness to it, has his cock aching within his hand.

You wouldn’t even notice he’s jerking off for a while either, not until he groans out your name.

The sound makes your entire body freeze and all you can do is stare at your phone, tipping your head to the side curiously before you tap on your phone to bring the ongoing phone call to the forefront of your screen.

You’d get quiet and he’d get louder, grunting out an all too deep, “Fuck,” That has you smiling to yourself a little. Especially when you hear him grunting as if he were trying to keep his sounds in.

But, your moment of confidence only lasts until the deep baritone of his voice snaps you out of it, “Keep fuckin’ talkin’, doll,” Toji orders and god does he sound sexy like this.

There’s the faintest hint of need in his voice that has you biting your lower lip to hold back the toothy smile trying to present itself on your face. Gulping, “Toji…” You murmur, and your ears don’t miss how he sighs heavily.

On his end, he’s got his legs sprawled out and his head tosses back at the sound of you calling his name, “What?” He’d huff, almost as if what he’s doing hasn’t become rather obvious to you.

Your voice is suddenly closer to the phone and it makes Toji grunt, “You okay over there? Y’sound… busy,” You utter teasingly.

“Mmmh… mhm, m’fine, jus’-, hahh, keep… keep talkin’,” His long pauses and heavy exhales were making you squirm on your end. You could only imagine how he looked right now— big hand wrapped around his cock as he gave himself quick tugs to the sound of your voice.

You start to shift around in your bed and almost forget to respond as you listen closely. Turning your volume up, you could hear almost everything. His sounds became vivid, a messy noise of spit heard as Toji wets his cock up in ways he’s known you to, his hand jerking his dick in quicker pulls due to the slickness of his saliva and precum mixing together.

“Hahhh, fuck,” Toji pants and starts slowing his hand down just so he can speak properly, “Why’d y’stop talkin’? Hm?”

“I uh… I thought I heard something, sorry,” You hum as you fake cluelessness. “Anywho, what was I saying again? Do you remember?”

Ah, you’d decided to test him thinking he wasn’t paying attention at all to what you were discussing earlier. Jokes on you, Toji knows how to multitask (sometimes), “Uh, you were tellin’ me about your day or somethin’,” He hums casually.

“Riight,” You chuckle. An idea pops into your mind and you decide to use his lack of full attention to what you were previously discussing to your advantage, “Well, me and my friends went to this new sweet spot today.”

“Yeah? ‘Nd what else, doll?” Toji sounded so clearly occupied but he was trying his best to just get you to keep talking. Every word that left your lips went straight to his cock.

You grin, “Well, it was pretty hot today so I got lucky they had popsicles! The one I got was suuper big, could’ hardly fit it in my mouth,” You explain.

Was this story true? Not exactly, but when else do you get the opportunity to tease your boyfriend like this?

Toji’s eyes flicker as he processes what the hell you just said to him, his cock twitching at the thought of your lips parting to take something large into your mouth— you knew what the hell you were doing to him and he was starting to pick up on it.

Swallowing thickly, Toji hums, “Oh yeah? Reminds me of a couple of other things that can’t really fit in your mouth…”

“Hm? Like what, Toji?” You murmur innocently.

Your voice had softened by a lot and it drove him crazy. Such a clear false innocence laced into your question had the man picturing your expression. The way you’re probably sitting there with your eyes all wide and curious, batting those pretty lashes of yours like you don’t know what the hell you’re asking him.

Scoffing, “Don’t play dumb, y’know what the hell m’talkin’ about.” Toji drawls out, voice a bit rougher with you.

You ignore his little attitude and let out a giggle, “Do I?”

“Yeah, y’do,” Your boyfriend huffs. His breathing is noticeably heavier and little did you know, he had his head resting back and his eyes on the ceiling as he fisted his cock rapidly, slick sounds masked by his voice every time he spoke.

As if to make his state worse, your voice dips into something more sultry, “I’m really not sure Toji… What else is too big to fit in my mouth? Hm?” You hum.

“Fuck-,” Toji lets out a slight gasp, his breath stuttering for a moment before he grunts, “My cock, baby. Y’know this.”

The way he gave up on getting you to say it first has you smiling, “Mmmh, I dunno Toji,” God you were saying his name too much and it was making his balls ache, “I had your cock down my throat perfectly fine the other day if I recall correctly.”

“Filthy fuckin’ girl,” Toji abruptly rasps out, making you gulp as you felt a throb in your core, “Where’d y’learn to talk like that, huh?”

You snicker, “From my boyfriend who enjoys jerking off to the sound of my voice.”

And just like that, Toji can feel his orgasm approaching— damn you and your slick remarks, you only ever acted like this over the phone. You knew better in person but, he didn’t mind right now.

“Hahh, fuck you,” Toji fires back.

“You want to right now, don’t you?” You were getting confident all of a sudden and he groans before shutting his mouth just to listen to you speak. “Wanna feel my tongue on your cock, huh?”

His hand squeezes onto his cock and a strangled grunt leaves the back of his throat, “Shit-,” Toji’s haw drops a little, “Don’t stop talkin’, m’close.”

“Yeah? Gonna cum thinkin’ about fuckin’ my throat, right?” You murmur.

And he definitely was, it’s all he could think about right now. Especially with how bold you were being, how could he not picture you on your knees and taking his cock down your throat as he face fucks you just to teach you a lesson about talking to him like this?

Then you just kept going, “…Or jus’ from me talking? Y’like my voice that much, Toji?” You ask.

He’s on his end just nodding as his brows furrow— when the hell was he this damn needy for you? “Yes, fuck… fuckin’ hell, yes, I fuckin’ love your voice baby,” Toji tells you.

God you wish you could see him right now. You just know he’s sweating, cockhead angry and leaking at your every word, big thighs parted yet jittery as he gets closer and closer.

“C’mon then big guy, cum f’me so you can come over,” Suddenly your tone is aroused and Toji’s squeezing his eyes shut in frustration.

“S’late, doll,” He argues.

You tut, “Yeah well listenin’ to you jerk off turned me on so now you’ve gotta come over ‘nd deal with it.”

Some nerve you had. As if you wouldn’t be the one all teary eyed and pouty after a few kisses from him…

Yet, Toji’s not thinking about that right now, mindlessly agreeing just because he needs you right now and his hand is starting not to cut it anymore, “Hahhh, alright-, shit. Whatever the fuck you want, doll. I’ll be over in ten.”

You snicker, “Make it five.”

He swears you’ll be the death of him.

Scoffing, “Needy ass girl… agh… can’t wait ten minutes?”

“You couldn’t wait til’ I got off the phone to jerk off?” You argue.

He’s smirking despite the slight irritation that creeps up on him due to how bratty you were being, “…Shut up.”

You smile, “Come shut me up.”

“Oh I’m about to.”

★ Geto Suguru

Moaning your name as if that’ll cause your hand to be wrapped around his cock instead of your panties— Suguru uses your clothes to get off when you’re not around.

He doesn’t bother to call you or text you. It’s usually late when he gets like this so he just uses the lace panties you “accidentally” left over at his place.

Sometimes he’s got the fabric wrapped around his cock as he jerks off and other times he’s got it pressed up to his nose, inhaling what little of your scent he could get as his hips fuck into the O-shape he’s created with his hand. If he inhales strong enough, he swears he can still smell your pussy and that alone makes his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Fuuuck,” Geto moans unashamed into the air. What’s he gotta hold his voice back for? Even if you were to ever catch him like this, he knows you’re just as much of a perv as he is.

His hand has a strong grip on his base as he gets himself off with your panties. Just thinking about how the fabric clung to your cunt for hours on end has his cock dripping pre onto the floor.

“Fuckin’ miss you, agh,” Suguru would groan thoughtlessly into the air, recalling the last time he had your pussy on his tongue, how sweet how tasted, how addicting you are.

Within said imagination, he doesn’t even realize he’s moving your panties to his mouth, his tongue seeping out and pressing into the fabric as if that’ll give him a taste of you again. Is it the same as sucking on your cunt til’ your legs are shaking? No, of course not. Does it make Geto’s hand milk the fuck out of his cock? Well, yes.

Light and faint whines slip past his lips, “Ha-ahh… taste so fuckin’ good, baby,” Geto groans like you’re right there with him.

Shit, he wants you on his tongue again. He can never get enough of it— the way your pussy sloshes all over his mouth every time he eats you out, how you whine his name and beg him for a break, or even the way you get greedy as your orgasm nears and you start bucking your hips against him.

Either way, it’s all he can think about right now. And it doesn’t get any better when his eyes open and looks down at himself, your panties clung tightly in between his teeth as he envisions you below him with a mouth wide and ready for him.

Oh the way you always take his cock down your throat never fails to make his eyes cross. You’d suck on him like your life depended on it, moaning against his shaft whenever he started thrusting into your mouth or whining when he forces your head down some more.

And he’s so close as he thinks about it more— picturing your wet lips parted around his flushed tip, drool slipping out the corner of your mouth, and your tongue slipping against him languidly-

“Suguru?” The sound of your voice makes him moan in surprise before he’s turning his head to look at you.

Even caught in the act, he only gets turned on even more. His brows tense and he pants heavily as his eyes meet yours, quickly noticing the way your gaze dropped down to his achingly hard cock.

You were supposed to be asleep out on his living room couch where he’d left you moments ago but yet, here you were— standing with your eyes all wide and curious, taking careful steps toward the man as you cross your arms, and giving him this look that drives him crazy.

You gulp loudly as you look up to your boyfriend’s face, “Are those my panties in your mouth?”

“M-Mmhm,” Geto hums with an impatient nod of his head.

Your lashes bat at the man before you find yourself standing right in front of him, placing but a single hand on his chest before taking the other and removing the lace from the man’s mouth.

“That’s filthy Sugu,” You whisper carefully.

The way his lips part and how his eyes lower on you, a groan slipping from him due to how close your body was and the way you’d touched him so softly. “Uhuh, I know, baby,” His voice has the faintest shake to it as he mumbles out an answer.

Smiling slightly, you keep your eyes directly up on his despite his hand not stopping on his cock for even a second, “You could’ve woken me up if you needed me, Suguru.” You utter.

He cracks a lazy grin for a moment, “I jus’ needed your panties.”

You frown and your brows tense a bit, “…Pervert.” You whisper, watching how his body twitches in reaction before he’s leaning his face down and closer to yours.

“Mhm,” Geto hums, “Yeahhh, tha’s me, princess. Keep tellin’ me how fuckin’ nasty I am.” Your boyfriend purrs, earning a wide eyed look from you as you gaze up at him in surprise.

You comply, trailing a single finger down along his chest as you tip your head to the side and speak, “You’re filthy Sugu, gettin’ off with my panties… Bet you wanted to get caught like this too.”

“Maybe,” Geto tells you with that awfully cocky grin on his face, “But you’re not any better. I caught you fingerin’ yourself to my voice last week.”

You gulp, “T-That was…”

He’s leaning down past your face and you flinch as his lips make sudden contact with your neck, “Different, huh?” He rasps out, hot breath tickling the side of your neck.

Tense, your hand stops moving along his body and you angle yourself to look down at how aggressively he’s fisting his cock right now, “Yeah…” You murmur, completely distracted by the sight below you.

His hand got faster on his cock, quicker tugs made the longer you stared down at him and cum leaking from his tip as he grunted against your neck.

“Sure it was,” Geto whispers, but his voice is a lot lighter than you expected it to be. “Now are you gonna just stand here and watch me jerk off or are y’gonna get on your knees ‘nd take care of me?” He asks, lifting his face a little to kiss the space below your ear.

You unconsciously lick your lips the longer you stare down at his cock, watching him drip onto the floor and make the slightest mess before you chuckle, “That’s no way to ask, Sugu.”

He scoffs against you but you don’t miss the quietest whine leaving his throat before he speaks, “Funny cause I wasn’t fuckin’ askin’.”

“Oh?” You snicker at your boyfriend before turning your head to meet his gaze, “You’re mean when you get caught in the act…”

He stares you down and resists every neuron in his body that’s telling him to press his lips into yours, “Am I?”

“Mhm, as if you’re not embarrassed,” You tease. God you were driving him crazy— looking at him so longingly, your lips nearly on his, your body warm with how close you were to him and your hand low and near his cock.

Fuck, one more touch from you and he’d be cumming in seconds. “I’m not.” Geto replies to you.

You pull your lower lip into your mouth for a second and his gaze drops, “You sure? Y’know how long I was watchin’ you before I said something?”

“Fuck, how long baby?” He practically mumbles. He needed your touch so badly, you were too close to not be all over him right now and his restraint was waning by the second.

“A few minutes, saw you puttin’ my panties to your nose ‘nd everything,” As you speak, your hands are lifting and his eyes are widening.

Your arms wrap around his neck and he’s forced to stop his hand on his cock before he blows his load too soon, “Yeah?” He breathes.

You nod and inch closer, “Mhm.”

“Bet that got you all hot ‘nd bothered, huh?” Geto whispers, cocking his head to the side before placing a hand to your waist and holding you tenderly, “That’s why you said somethin’ right? Cause y’like watchin’ me like this?”

Your eyes were on his lips now and you’d half-heard everything he just said, shrugging out a little, “Maybe…” In response before your lips are finally on his.

Geto can’t even control the groan that pours out of him while his lips move over yours, tongue slotting into your mouth and hand squeezing onto your waist as if to tell you not to move.

The kiss doesn’t even last that long before he’s letting out a whine as his cockhead brushes against your body, “Fuck-, enough of this teasin’, I need you princess.”

★ Gojo Satoru

You were going to take it upon yourself to ask your husband how he jerks off when you’re not around but instead of answering your text with an explanation like a normal person— he sends you a video.

Unfiltered, less than a second after clicking on the video, you’re met with his glistening cock on your screen. Slicked with spit and precum trailing along his veins, a pretty pink tip twitching for some attention, and a bright flash from his cellphone giving you the perfect view of his lower half.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t squeeze your legs together as soon as you started the video. Then there’s his voice that you hear about five seconds in.

“Wanted to see how I jerk off, huh? Dirty girl,” Oh his tone was low with you, the sound filling your ears as you bat your lashes and gulped. Thank god for your headphones, despite being home alone, because you could hear every little sound. “You’re lucky I was already in the middle of it when you texted, y’know.”

Although he can’t hear you, you scoff, “Slut.”

“Got’ this hard thinkin’ about you,” Gojo whispers suddenly, his slender fingers wrapping around his cock carefully, “I miss you, pretty girl,” His words and the way he’s slowly touching himself for you has your body hot and it’s only been a few seconds.

Pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth, your eyes narrow on his hand— how tenderly it slides up and up until he reaches his tip, the way his thumb runs in between the slit of his cockhead and he lets out a hiss.

Then his hand lowers and the sound that follows is so wet, “Fuuck, I wish it was you touchin’ me right now. You always make me feel s’good,” Gojo pants unintentionally, “Miss your lips on me too. How long’s it been? A week? Fuckin’ hate leavin’ you for work…”

You chuckle lightly at his moment of rambling but the way his hand picks up in speed ever so slightly has your smile fading and your focus returning. Sometimes you wonder how he even fits inside you— his cock is so long and from his base to his tip, he looks like he’d split you open (he does).

Your thighs are squeezing together again and you’re starting to miss him the more you watch, the vivid and deep sound of Gojo humming your name causing a chill to slip down your spine.

And you swear you were about to get to the best part of the video he’s sent because his hand was moving at a quickened pace but you’re interrupted by an incoming video call from the man in question.

You practically jump out of your skin due to your ringtone before you scramble to answer it.

Batting your eyelashes as the call connects, you swallow hard, “H-Hello-“

“Knowin’ you’re watchin’ that video isn’t enough f’me,” Gojo huffs out— now he’s got the camera propped up for you and you can see most of his body.

His shirt is long gone, same with his sweats, his legs are spread far and wide, hard and throbbing cock standing straight up as his hand tugs at it in needy little pulls. Gojo’s got his head tossed back and you have the clearest view of his sweaty Adam’s apple, a slip of sweat sliding down along his chest.

He’s panting like crazy and his hand is fucking his cock much more aggressively than he was in that video you’d been watching, “Show me somethin’ baby, I fuckin’ need you,” Gojo huffs impatiently as he shifts his head back into place to meet your gaze on his screen.

You gulp, “S-Satoru, I-“

“Please?” He whines so suddenly and it has your pussy throbbing, especially with how he lifts his hips into his hand because of simply looking at your face, “Wanna see somethin’ pretty, show me your pussy, please?”

It's almost embarrassing how fast you move for your needy husband, going to prop your own phone up similar to how he’s done his and then discarding your clothes in a heartbeat.

“Spread yourself apart f’me, baby,” Gojo groans out his instructions and you’re following his every word— parting your legs wider and moving two finds to your cunt to spread your pussy apart for him.

“Mmh, like this, ‘Toru?” You utter with a slightly shaky hand and an embarrassed expression.

You see the way Gojo’s jaw sinks a little and how his brows furrow as he fists his cock faster, almost eagerly, “Juus’ like that, sweetheart-, fuck. I miss bein’ inside you,” Gojo says before tilting his head to really study your cunt, “Look how wet y’re f’me ‘nd I’m not even there, shit.”

You’ve got your pointer and ring finger holding your cunt open and you shift your middle finger to give yourself the slightest bit of relief, “It’s cause of your video..”

“Yeah?” Gojo smiles, “Y’liked watchin’ me jerk off?”

His hand slows, palm steadily traveling down along his shaft as a whine leaves him. Your pretty pussy on full display for him and making his balls twitch. He wanted to be fucking you full of him so badly.

“Uhuh,” Your softer tone hits his ears and Gojo grunts.

“Shiiit,” He breathes out before biting his bottom lip. He’d started to drool without even realizing it and his cock was dripping in cum already, “Look at that pussy leak f’me-, holy fuck.” Your husband moans, “My voice get you like this too?”

You’ve started to tease yourself with merely one finger and you can’t move your eyes away from his needy cock, “M-Mhm…” You hum.

“Aww, baby…” Gojo coos. Then you were slipping two fingers into yourself and trying your best to get off along with him, “Look at your fingers tryin’ t’please you like how I do,” He cracks a smile, “Doesn’t feel the same, does it?”

Shaking your head, “N-No, ‘Toru. I need you.”

“Hahh, need you too baby,” Gojo moans, hand picking back up. The faintest plp plp plp followed his movements as bits of cum dripped from his cockhead and onto the floor, “Look at how fuckin’ hard I am cause of you.” He huffs just before glancing down to himself.

Ah, he was making a mess but he was a bit too dazed with arousal to pay any mind to it right now.

You bite your lip and hum before tipping your head back and shutting your eyes, “Mmmh…”

“M’gonna get home and fuck you til’ we both pass out, I swear.” Gojo huffs. His voice is airy and his hand is getting a bit messy now.

Your lips part and you exhale heavily, “Can’t wait.”

“Yeah? Y’can’t wait huh?” Your husband grunts, practically fucking his cock up into his hand at this point, “Maybe I’ll get ya' pregnant so I have an excuse not t’leave you like this.”

Your legs start to close a little and you moan, “Satoru, m-mgh…”

“Fuck, m’gonna cum,” He groans pornographically into the air, “Wish I was cummin’ inside you, fuckin’ you nice ‘nd full, watchin’ you make a mess on me-, hahh… agh…” His lips quiver a bit as he gets close and he’s panting so hard that the camera is starting to fog up a little.

“T-Toru,” You whine for him— missing him oh so desperately now that you’re nearing your own orgasm.

“Yeah, mhm, m’here baby,” Gojo chants, breath heavy and hand jolting up and down his cock fervently, “C’mon, cum with me. You can do it f’me pretty girl.”

You’re nodding, he’s nodding— both of you are getting there together and whining each other’s names. Gojo’s veins are popping up on his hand with how tightly his gripping onto his cock and his mouth hangs open, eyelids heavy and vision blurring while he moans your name.

“Miss you so fuckin’ much,” Gojo groans finally before he glances to his phone to see you releasing all over your fingers— the sight leads him to cum right then and there with his kegs trembling slightly.

Fuck, he needed to get home soon.

★ Nanami Kento

You were surprised to walk in on your boss jerking off.

“Oh fuck,” Echoed into the air, his voice thick with lust as he hadn’t even noticed you’d entered his office yet.

With the way his desk was, you could see everything. His muscular thighs parted like a damn slut, cock barely tugged out of his slacks, big veiny hand working to bring himself to an orgasm.

Truth be told, it’s your fault he’s like this— his cute lil’ assistant, walking around in those tight ass skirts he’s asked you not to wear thousands of times over again. And yet you do it anyway. Maybe because you know where it gets you with your boss or maybe because you wanted a situation exactly like this.

Sure, he’s your boss but he’s also the same man that fucks you til’ you can’t walk straight whenever you request him to do so.

But this? Well, you’ve never been so aroused by walking in on a man pleasing himself before. It had to be his deep groans of your name or even the size of his cock and how it exceeded the size of his hand, how you could picture your own hands around it and how you know your hands would be so pale in comparison.

Nanami’s got his eyes shut and he’s huffing and puffing through his nose, chest rising and falling rapidly the more he stokes his cock. All he can think about is you and the way you bent over in front of him less than thirty minutes ago.

He had half a mind to call you into his office and tell you to bend over his desk the same way— thinking of fucking your tight cunt til’ you’re making too much noise and he has to shove two thick fingers in your mouth to shut you up.

“Fuuck,” It’s rare you even hear him curse so to hear his mouth so vulgar now has you swallowing hard before you lock his office door with a slight click following.

His eyes bat open and he doesn’t bother stopping because he already knew it was you who’d walked in, you’re the only one who does so without knocking.

“Sir?” You utter gently, making his face twist up in arousal.

“Here, now.” Is all he can grunt out to you.

You’re moving toward him obediently with your panties soaking the closer you get. “Mr.-“

“Kento,“ He utters, “Please, fuck-, just… hahh, say my name, sweetheart.”

“Kento,” You correct in a sultry tone, “I didn’t know you were… occupied in here. What if someone else walked in-“

Nanami rolls his eyes at you and then lets off a scoff, “No one but you would,” He huffs, “Now get on my desk.”

You freeze as you find yourself standing right beside his desk, “What?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself-, just…” He trails off a little once his eyes meet yours and you watch his lashes flutter while his brows pinch together, “Oh fuck, I need… hah, fuuck.”

You chew on your bottom lip before smirking and stepping past his desk, closer to him, “Need what, Ken? Get it out…” You whisper.

“Damn vixen,” Nanami groans as he tosses his head back.

Glancing down at his cock, you watch as his tip grows a bit white— cum peeping out from his fat cockhead and making you swallow thickly.

You then look back up to his face and start leaning down, placing your hands on the armrests of his chair to keep yourself up before uttering, “Do you want me to touch you?”

His response is instant, “God, yes.”

“How?” You murmur with a smirk, shifting your legs so that they straddle one of his, “How do you want me to touch you?”

Nanami opens his eyes and yet again and he grunts at how ridiculously close you are to him, “Anywhere.”

You tease, “Anywhere?”

“Yes, hurry up,” Nanami pleads. His voice nearly went desperate for you and you swore you heard something needy underlining in his tone.

Playing off of that, “Needy are we?” You comment before seating yourself on his thigh.

“Yes,” He gulps and begins to stammer while your arms wrap around his neck, “J-Just-“

Oh he can’t even finish his request before your lips are pressing into his neck and he’s groaning loudly. Cock aching for you whilst your lips move along his tensed skin. Each kiss from you earned groan after groan from him, the sound vibrating against his throat and his hand squeezing his cock tighter.

“Fuck,” Nanami curses yet again as you kiss below his sharp jawline.

“You’re one naughty man, y’know. Did you want me to catch you like this?” You murmur against his warm skin, feeling the way he tenses up to your voice.

Nodding and humming a carefully little, “Mhm,” In response, Nanami’s completely at your mercy now, silently begging for you to continue down the path you’re on.

You smile and glance down to his hand still working his cock, cunt clenching around nothing the longer you stare, “Ken…”

“Y-Yes?” He stutters a bit and mentally curses himself for it— he knows you’ll tease him more about it later.

Planting another kiss beneath his jaw, you chuckle, “You’re drippin’ onto the floor,” You utter so seductively that he just groans and throws his head back again. “Makin’ suuch a big mess all because of… what? Hm?”

“You,” He huffs, “You and that… that fucking skirt,” Nanami says through gritted teeth.

“Well,” You whisper with a slight smile still on your face, “If you have a problem with it you can always take it off of me.”

His free hand is gripping onto your waist faster than you have time to react and you let out a slight noise in surprise. Nanami’s lifting his head and angling himself to your neck, lips latching onto you as he lets out a groan like a man starved.

“Yeah?” He hushes out.

Then he’s pushing you back slightly and releasing his cock, both of you soon shoved to your feet with how quick and swift his movements are. He has you stumbling backwards until you bump into his desk and then there’s a hand grabbing at the side of your neck, tugging you into a deep kiss.

It’s hot and heavy, even as he pulls away from you and pants, lifting a thumb to drag your lower lip down, “Lay back and spread your legs for me then,” Nanami murmurs in that deep tone of his.

You gulp, “Sir, I-“

He cuts you off by slipping his thumb into your mouth, “You said I could get that skirt off of you. Don’t go back on your word and do as I said.”

Gazing at him for a singular moment longer, you lift yourself onto his desk and start parting your legs for the man. His thumb leaves your mouth and his finger is slightly wet as he places his palms to your thighs, slipping his grasp up to your hips and beneath that skirt of yours.

The fabric starts bundling up at you hips and you let out a sigh as you lean your upper half back.

Then, Nanami moves to tug at his tie and sends you a look of warning, “And don’t be too loud like last time… You don’t want others to hear how much of a slut you are behind closed doors, right?”

You release a scoff, “Says the man who was jerking off in his office.”

He freezes before smiling slightly, “Touché.”

[strang3lov3]

Kitten Fur

Tommy takes a deep breath, groaning as his cock stirs in his denim. “S’just a big secret to keep,” he says. Tommy continues, “An’ I can keep quiet for ya, but I gotta know what’s in it for me, right? S’all I’m askin’.”

You can’t get anything past Joel, but that won’t stop you from trying.

Tags - one shot, smut, unprotected piv, creampies, uncle tommy blowjobs/facefucking, cum swallowing, cunnilingus, fingering, spanking/violence, Joel gets dark, then comforts you, cat scratches, wound care, coercion/manipulation/blackmail, dark/icky daddy themes, daddy kink, dark fluff, girthy legal age gap. 8.5k words. A/N - thanks for all the love and patience 🩷🫂 thank you L who edited, i love you sweet friend

The flowers are blooming nicely. 

In the spring, when the snow was all but melted, dirty and icy on the brown grass, you were depressed. It was still cold outside and there wasn’t much to do. Joel took you out to pick out some seeds, give you something to care for, to keep yourself busy. Touching soil - it’s good for a person, you know? 

You water Joel’s flowers first: roses, daisies, tulips, and his favorite, lilies. There are honey bees buzzing about, worms wiggling through the soil. You like your flowers better, your snapdragons and gardenias. You love how your honeysuckle smells, so sweet and sugary you could almost taste it. 

Joel joins you in your shared garden, wearing a gray t-shirt and some weathered jeans. His curls are combed back, and he looks handsome in the sunlight. He reaches up and pulls a birdfeeder off of the hook of a post that’s taller than you can reach and fills it with seed, then fills a hanging glass container with sugar water for the hummingbirds. 

Joel dampens a rag with some oil and runs it along the metal post, top to bottom, all the way up and down. 

“What’re you doing, Daddy?” 

“Tryin’ somethin’ out…” Joel puts the cap back on the bottle of oil. “Gonna see if this won’t keep away the goddamn squirrels.” 

“I like the squirrels.” 

“I know you do, Pumpkin, but they’re stealin’ all my birdseed.” 

You make a face. “Maybe I’ll put peanut butter out or something for them, then. So they don’t steal your birdseed.” 

“Oh, will ya?” Joel sounds less than impressed. The critters are giving you trouble too, snacking on your flowers you’ve worked so hard to grow. You don’t mind, though. It’s a joy to watch them frolic through the garden, chasing each other. You like seeing familiar faces, but your favorite part is seeing the babies. If you’re quiet, and if you’re lucky, you’ll catch glimpses of the sweet baby animals. 

Like you’re doing right now. Under the rocking swing you and Joel sway on is a little black kitten, hanging out all alone. It’s cleaning itself, pink tongue darting out to lick its paw before swiping it over its ears. “Joel - Daddy,” you hiss urgently, tugging on Joel’s shirt. 

“What is it, Punk’n?”

“Shh.” Joel makes a face in mock offense that disappears when you point to the kitten, and then he tilts his head. “Ahh. Kitty cat, huh?” 

“Mhm. Can we bring it inside?” 

Joel sighs. “No, sweetheart.” 

Ouch. He’s inspecting his work, considering if petroleum jelly might be a better move. Those fuckers are crafty. “Hon, do we still have some Vasel - oh, don’t you give me that look.”

You cross your arms and raise your eyebrows. “M’not giving you a look.” 

Joel knows better than to get into an argument with you about whether or not you’re giving him a “look”. He’s learned to pick and choose his battles with you, and he’ll gladly lose that one, but this one, absolutely not. 

“Honey, he’s probably got worms an’ fleas and whatnot. He can’t come inside, baby.” 

“But it’s hot out,” you argue. “And - he’s black.”

“Look at ‘im,” Joel says, pointing to the kitten, which is now laying in a shady patch of dirt. “He’s coolin’ off in the shade. He’s alright, sweet pea. Look - why don’t ya go an’ play with him, okay? Tell him ‘bout what a mean old man I am. I’m gonna go make us some lunch.” 

“I’m really not hungry.” 

“Ya really are,” Joel says, parroting your tone. He gives your shoulder two quick squeezes and heads inside to make you both some sandwiches, give you some time to spook the kitten and get your mind un-addled from this thing before you’re in too deep. He hopes that this stray will keep its distance from you, letting you know itself that it wants nothing to do with you. Tough love, Pumpkin.

You approach the kitten slowly, who looks defensive at first. Eyes all wide and alert, on edge. You sit down gently, careful not to make any sudden movements, and hold out your hand for the kitten to sniff. You wonder what it is. Joel kept calling it a he. 

The kitten sniffs you cautiously, tickling your skin with its quick little breaths. It seems to approve of you and rubs its cheek along your finger, tail curling left and right. “Hi, kitty,” you smile, using one digit to scratch the kitten right between its ears. You pluck a dandelion and wiggle it in front of the animal, giggling as it bats at the flower. “Shit,” you swear when it scratches you. 

The little kitten climbs into your lap and purrs happily at you, letting you scratch its little body all over. You lift it for a moment to raise its tail and take a peek, and yep, Joel was right. “You are definitely a dude,” you laugh. 

Joel pushes the curtain of the kitchen window to the side to look at you and the kitten. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head when he sees you smiling, as beautiful as that is, watching your little friend chase a white butterfly. He cuts your sandwich on the diagonal per your standing request, then slides open the window and calls your name. “Lunchtime,” he says. 

You come walking, and Joel opens the door for you, stopping you before you can make it inside. “Ah, ah. Put the damn cat back outside. Nice fuckin’ try, kiddo.” 

It was worth a shot. You set the kitten down, mumbling something Joel can’t hear, and you’d better thank your lucky stars for that. The fuckin’ mouth on you, Jesus…

“Wash up. Soap an’ water.” 

After washing, you sit at the table with Joel, eating your sandwich. He made an extra for himself, but you’re still working on your first half. You swallow a bite of food, sip your water. “I didn’t see any fleas on him but I’m gonna give him a bath,” you tell Joel casually.   

“Uh huh, good luck with that.” Joel takes another bite of his sandwich. “An’ then what?”

“Then…I think I’m gonna keep him.” 

“Yeah? That so?”

“Yep.”

You eat the rest of your first sandwich, feeling Joel’s eyes on you in the quiet room, the tension hovering like fog. You know your choice of words was bold. Gonna. A choice you made on your own. 

“Pumpkin.” 

You pull at a loose string on your shorts. 

“Look at me,” Joel says, “‘Fore you get any ideas,” and you look at him. “No. You are not gettin’ a cat.”

“Why?” you whine, dragging out the syllable. 

“Because,” he explains, “Y’eat me outta house an’ home already. I don’t need another mouth to feed.” 

“But I’ll take care of him!”

Joel scoffs, then sucks food off of his thumb. “Yeah, you’ll take care of him?” 

“I take care of my flowers,” you shoot back. “And yours.” 

Joel gives you a look, lips pulled in a frown and his eyebrows raised. You’re testing him, and by god you’ve got him, sharp fucking girl. “Uh huh. When’s the last time you did your chores, huh? Dishes? Remember those?” 

You cross your arms and push your plate away, upset with the direction of this conversation. 

“And you’re tellin’ me you’re gonna keep up with a cat? Scoop his shit out of a litter box? I don’t think so, darlin’.”

You look at Joel, then back at your plate. And back to Joel again, who’s still staring you down. He’s not budging, and you don’t think you’ll be able to get him to, either. Finally, you sigh in defeat. You lean forward and rest your head in your hands, frowning. 

“Oh, enough with the poutin’. He’s got a mama who’s gonna come lookin’ for him anyway, right?”

“Maybe,” you shrug. You don’t think so.

“Look, honey,” Joel says, “You can go out there an’ play with him as much as you want, but he’s stayin’ outside. That’s my compromise.” 

Compromise. Joel’s been trying to work on that, little by little. The give and take of it all. He’s got you tied on a short leash and he knows that, so he’s been trying to give you more freedoms and privileges here and there. 

As soon as Joel says it, you’re out the door with your other half of the sandwich. You find the kitten right where you left it and you tear off little bits of chicken and bread, watching as the kitten happily eats. All those little noises it makes, its little ears wiggling. Joel follows behind you, then stands with his arms crossed as the scene plays in front of him. 

“What?” 

Joel raises his eyebrows. 

“It’s my sandwich, Daddy. And I’m not even hungry.” Lie. 

“You know damn well what, sweetheart. He can fend for himself.”

You ignore Joel, and feed the kitten a little more food. 

“Fine. You can fend for yourself. Don’t come whinin’ at me when you’re hungry later.” Joel spins around and heads for the kitchen to rinse off the plates, keeping a watchful eye on you as you play with your little friend. 

Joel watches you spend the entire day with the little guy, and how gorgeous you look lying in the grass in your shorts and pink shirt, teasing the kitten with sticks and flowers. You lie on your back and cover your eyes with your forearm, and the kitten curls up on your chest, the both of you basking in the sun for an afternoon nap. Joel loves these sounds of your sweet giggle, your real giggle. But you, sweet fucking girl, are going to break your own damn heart.

When Joel calls you in for supper hours later, he has to stop you from sneaking the kitten into the house under your shirt. He tells you you’re walking funny, and you tell him your back hurts. When Joel calls bullshit, you tell him that he walks funny when his back hurts too, Daddy. 

You don’t make it far before Joel has you putting the kitten back outside. You and Joel eat in silence, and he notices you staring out the window, your eyes following the kitten the whole time. He also notices the food you hide in your cloth napkin. 

“I don’t see his mama,” you mumble. 

“She’s out there, honey.” 

You don’t like that you can’t see the kitten when the sun goes down. Anxiety nags at you as Joel reads to you while rocking in his chair. You’ve hardly paid attention to the story. 

Joel yawns loudly, stretching his back as he does so, then puts his heavy hand on top of your head. “Ohh, I’m beat, baby. Let’s go to bed,” he says, gently scratching your scalp. You melt under his touch for a moment before he’s patting your ass, urging you up. You slide off of his lap first, then spin around and offer him your hands. Joel groans as you try to pull him up, deliberately making you do the lion’s share of the effort. It makes you both laugh. C 

You follow Joel toward the stairs, but stop as he continues up. “Daddy?”

“What-y?”

“Can I have like, five more minutes?”

“Whatcha need to do?”

“Nothing,” you mutter, lying, and Joel knows it, too. 

“Uh huh. No funny business, Pumpkin.”

You head back for the living room and open Joel’s blanket chest to retrieve an afghan for the kitten. You take Joel’s vinyls out of the crate they sit in and place them neatly on the floor, careful not to break anything. It’s not like Joel will care, right? He doesn’t even use his turntable. 

Although…Uncle Tommy might. He likes to play music when he sneaks over and plays with you. 

Outside, you set up a little bed for the kitten, and you leave food scraps out for him, too. You call for him, making kissy noises and pss pss pssing into the dark. You’re relieved when he comes running and snacks on the meal you’ve made for him, and you take care to make sure he likes the blanket you’ve picked. It takes him some time to get comfortable. “I can get you a different blanket, bud–”

“Pumpkin!” Joel shouts with his mouth full of toothpaste through the screen window above. 

“Coming, Daddy!”

But you don’t. Joel can picture the scene as he spits out his toothpaste and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, you tickling that flea-ridden cat. He goes downstairs in his pajamas and joins you outside, watching with his arms crossed as you care for your fuzzy little friend. 

“Hey.” Joel tilts his head and squints. “That my record crate?”

“...yeah.” 

“So where are my records?”

“The floor, I guess,” you answer quietly. Joel rolls his eyes, then snaps and points to the door. “Gonna throttle you, kid. Alright. You kiss your little buddy goodnight and get your ass upstairs. S’bedtime.” 

Joel watches you tenderly kiss the kitten, right on its forehead and between its ears that are a little too big for its head yet. He ushers you inside with a hand on your lower back, and he gets snapped at by you when he closes the door too loudly. When he kisses you on the forehead and whispers to you goodnight, he knows what’s running through that restless mind of yours. “Hey,” he murmurs. “He’s gonna be alright, okay?” 

You check on the kitten every morning and night, and you spend the majority of your days with him as long as he’s around. Joel watched you empty an ice tray into a bowl once, rolling his eyes as you filled it at the sink. “I’m just making sure he has water,” you said. 

“Uh huh. Does he really need ice water, Pumpkin?” 

“It’s his favorite, Daddy.” 

Because he likes to bat around the ice cubes. He paws at them and splashes around a little, then licks his paws. 

You gave him a name after about a week. Snoopy. It just fit the little guy. 

Joel says goodbye to you one morning, telling you that he’s stopping at the market to pick up some eggs real quick, but that he’ll let you stay outside while he’s gone. It’s only a few minutes anyway, and Joel knows you’re fixated on your little friend. You won’t be getting up to much trouble, so he gives you this inch. “Been goin’ through ‘em awful quick. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would ya, Pumpkin?”

“Mm-mm,” you lie, holding a handful of scrambled eggs behind your back as Joel kisses you on the cheek. “Can you get feathers, though? From the chickens? I want to make him some toys.” 

Joel rolls his eyes and shakes his head, but he returns to you with feathers anyway. You’re a very crafty girl, fashioning some sort of teaser toy out of said feathers and a stick. Joel notices the kitten’s been getting bigger. 

You and Snoopy have a whole routine. Every morning when you greet him, you sing his name. “Snooopyyyy,” you call, and Snoopy emerges from his crate or a patch of flowers. “Big stretch,” you’ll smile, watching as the kitten leans back on his paws, then forward, wiry little tail flinching while he yawns. Snoopy sings back to you as he greets you, and he’s got the sweetest, chirpiest little meow. 

You’ll spend the afternoons playing with him, and when he tires, he naps on you while you read or doodle or something. Sometimes you’ll bring a blanket outside and nap in the grass with him, enjoying the smell of his sunlight-warmed kitten fur. His eyes are turning green now. They were blue when you first met him. 

If Joel’s not home, you’ll sit by the window and play with him through the screen. You wish he’d stop locking the fucking doors. There hasn’t been an incident in a long time, but Joel says that trust has to be earned. But he also says you’re getting there, though…he’s been saying that for a while, hasn’t he. 

Joel makes a deal with you. He stops arguing about you sneaking the kitten your dinner and instead prepares Snoopy-sized portions on a small dish so long as you eat well and take care of your chores without Joel asking you to. It seems to be working well. 

But Joel still won’t budge on letting Snoopy stay. No cats, he says. 

You kiss Snoopy goodnight each night, wishing so badly you could go to sleep with him safe in your arms instead. 

You haven’t seen such an ugly sky in so long. The clouds are green and purple like shades of bruised skin, a front rolling in quickly. You felt iffy all day when it was just gray and teasing a storm, but the storm’s here, now. 

It looks bad. There’s lightning and thunder, though it’s not yet begun to rain. Wind blowing through the screen knocks over papers in Joel’s house. Snoopy’s not by the window with you, and you can’t quite see him, but you can hear him. The kitten cries in anxiety, all alone as he hides from the storm. God, you fucking hate this. You call out to him and promise him that everything’s okay, but it probably does little to comfort the creature. 

Everything’s worse after the first few drops of rain pour from the sky. It begins pouring, then stops for a second. You mop up the mess inside with a towel. There’s a ping…ping…ping, ping against the gutters, hail then slamming against the side of the house as thunder roars. They’re large pieces of hail, too, and you worry Snoopy’ll get hurt, or worse as the storm escalates. Jackson saves its alarms for infected only, so there’s no way for you to know what’s ahead. 

You try opening a door. Then another, and another. Joel’s locked them all at multiple points.

There’s a strange feeling that comes with punching out the window’s screen. You’ve done it before and faced the consequences, god. That awful day in the forest, being hunted down by Joel with Tommy’s dog. Joel terrorized the living fucking daylights out of you that day, scared you from ever pulling that shit again. But here you are, climbing out the window, just as you did before. You remember the mistakes you made that led you to Joel finding you. You wouldn’t make them again. 

Thunder claps and snaps you out of your train of thought. Snoopy cries and you run to him, he’s hidden under his blanket in his crate. Rain soaks you as you run to him and quickly gather him, ignoring his frightened scratching as you hide him under your clothes. What compels you back inside is Snoopy’s safety more than your own, truth be told. 

You drip water onto Joel’s floors as you slam the glass window shut, then quickly bring Snoopy up to your room. The kitten is drenched, the same as you. He’s shivering and scared and you are too, but you dry him off before you dry yourself. You create a safe, warm space for him under your bed, which he seems to appreciate. He stays hidden as the storm rages on. 

With Snoopy safe, you head back downstairs to assess the damage. The screen has blown halfway across Joel’s yard, so you open the window and sprint after it to fetch it. You are so deeply fucked if Joel sees what you did to his window - the screen is broken and coming apart, and you couldn’t begin to figure out how to fit it back into the window. Especially not in this storm. 

“I’ll always come and getcha if you’re in a jam,” Uncle Tommy had told you once, like he was your guardian angel or something. He whispered it, actually, and tapped your nose with his long, thick finger. Wearing that crooked smirk of his, his eyes sparkling with something darker than mischievous. 

“No questions asked?” 

“Don’t know about that,” Tommy replied. “But if ya need me, sweetheart, I’m there. I know what it’s like to be your age, to find yourself in all sorts’a dicey fuckin’ situations.” 

“Did you get in trouble a lot?” 

“Sure did, honey.” 

“What’d you do?” 

Tommy chuckled and swiped at his nose, then shook his head. “Ohhh, darlin’. All kinds of shit a sweet girl like you don’t need to know a goddamn thing about.” 

You think now’s about as good a time as ever to get Uncle Tommy and help yourself out of this jam you’re in. You race to his house through the storm, exhilarated as it’s the first time you’ve been out like this since…you don’t even know when. It feels fucking good. 

You pound on Tommy’s door, praying to god he’s home and lucky for you, he is. You barely stutter out an explanation before you’re grabbing his hand and leading him back to Joel’s, then showing him the screen you need him to fix. “Jesus, girl. Your daddy’s gonna beat ya black and blue, you know that?”

“I know. I need your help,” you tell him. “Please, Uncle Tommy.” 

Tommy picks up the screen and opens the door, then gestures for you to move inside. “You up to no good?” he asks, only to be met with no answer. “I ain’t helpin’ ‘less you tell me what crime exactly it is that you’re makin’ me a goddamn accomplice of.” 

“Fine. I’ll show you.” 

“Show me, huh.” Uncle Tommy follows you up the stairs and into your room, where he takes in everything. The books you read, the clothes you wear, the locked window. The baby monitor Joel turns on at night. 

You lift your bedskirt and scratch the floor, and out comes Snoopy. Cautiously, as he’s still frightened by the storm. You scoop him up in your hands and bring him to Tommy, who scratches the kitten between its ears. “This is Snoopy,” you introduce, “He’s been my friend for a while but Joel - Daddy won’t let me have a pet.” 

“Mm,” Tommy hums, now scratching beneath the kitten’s chin. He can fill in the blanks himself - you broke out to rescue this kitten from the big bad storm, and now you need him to cover your tracks. “You sit tight and I’ll see what I can do, sweetheart.” 

Tommy leaves you to go clean your mess. It’s an easy enough fix - staple the screen back into its frame, then fit the entire thing into the window. He could do it in his sleep. 

He calls you downstairs to inspect his handiwork, make sure everything’s to your liking, and it’s as good as new. “Well, whaddaya say, kiddo?” 

You push on the screen, smiling in both relief and mischief. It thrills you to get away with this, to have this little secret of your own. That alone is an accomplishment when Joel keeps you under the microscope the way he does, isn’t it? You don’t have much that’s just…yours. Joel takes it all from you. 

“Thank you,” you grin, wrapping your arms around Tommy’s strong middle. You squeeze him so tightly and he hugs you back, kissing the top of your head while stroking your back.

“S’what I’m here for, darlin’. Always got your back,” he murmurs softly, then clicks his tongue. “Your daddy’s a fuckin’ hard ass, ain’t he?” 

“He–” you stop yourself from continuing. Tommy laughs at that. 

“You can say it, hon. Not gonna snitch on ya.” 

“He’s a hard ass, yeah,” you laugh, and it feels good to get it off your chest. It’s hard to talk about Joel in that way when he tells you that he’s always right, and when he punishes you for questioning him. Daddy knows what’s best for ya, Pumpkin. Ungrateful ass spoiled fuckin’ brat. He gave you life and he can take it away, you know. Keep fucking testing, watch what happens. And quit with the fuckin’ waterworks before he gives you somethin’ to really cry about. 

Tommy laughs too, swaying you from side to side in his warm embrace. It goes quiet, the only sound in the room being the rain splashing against the windows. It’s all but died completely. 

“Guessin’ you’re wantin’ Uncle Tommy to keep quiet about this too, then, huh?” he asks quietly, pointing to the window. “Yeah?”

“Please,” you answer. 

Tommy takes a deep breath, groaning as his cock stirs in his denim. “S’just a big secret to keep is all,” he says. Tommy continues, “An’ I can keep quiet for ya, but I gotta know what’s in it for me, right? S’all I’m askin’.”

You pull away, brows pinched in concern. Tommy shrugs and grins in a very matter-of-fact way, putting his hands in his front pockets. “C’mon. Fair’s fair, ain’t it? I do a lil’ somethin’ for you, you do a lil’ somethin’ for me?”

“What - what am I supposed to do for you?”

Tommy chuckles darkly. “What do you think, girlie?” He reaches for your hand and presses your palm against his bulge, sighing softly at the pressure. Even like this, you can feel just how big he is. “Got such a pretty mouth, sweet pea,” Tommy says, reaching for your face. He runs his thumb along your bottom lip and gives it a little pull, smirking in his wolfish way. “Why don’tcha get on your knees f’me?”

You kneel so pretty, Tommy thinks as he unbuckles his belt. He pushes some hair out of your face with one hand, then frees his cock using the other, resting his hefty balls on top of the elastic waistband of his boxers. His cock is too big and heavy to slap against his stomach, and bobs with the weight of itself. He holds it between his thumb and forefingers, guiding the tip toward your mouth. “Gimme a kiss, honey,” he says, pushing himself toward you. 

His cock is so warm against your lips as you kiss him, and he smells so musky, slightly bitter. His pubic hair is less gray than Joel’s is, but getting there. It’s about as overgrown, though. And he’s markedly thicker than Joel is, though maybe not as long. He’s a fucking choking hazard, is what he is. 

You’re happy to take Uncle Tommy’s cock in your mouth, truthfully, even if the whole act caught you off guard. It’s just another way to pull one over on Joel, after all. You’d probably be in big trouble if he knew what you were up to. Good thing he’ll never find out, huh?

You swirl your tongue around Tommy’s thick head, running your tongue over his wet slit, tasting that little bit of prejack that’s beaded there. Tommy holds your face with one of his large hands, stroking softly at your skin as you peer up at him. Uncle Tommy looks like nothing good for you, and you can’t help but feel absolutely intrigued by that. He’s the knife you do tricks with, the matches you play with. 

You run your tongue along the underside of his shaft, eliciting a deep groan from him. “Don’t you tease me, sweet pea. Ain’t nice.”

You part your lips and take his head into your mouth, then bob yourself on his length, about halfway or less. Tommy watches you, waiting to see if you’ll work your way down, nose buried into his thick patch of hair. “Ahem,” he clears his throat, “Lil’ deeper now, honey. All the way down. I know your daddy raised ya better’n that, huh?”” 

You pull off of Tommy, a string of saliva that connects him to your lips breaking. “Daddy doesn’t make me take him all the way,” you tell Tommy.

Tommy shrugs, makes a face. “But you ain’t suckin’ your daddy’s cock right now, are ya, girlie?” He positions himself back at your mouth, then begins pushing in. “Uncle Tommy plays by different rules.” 

Tommy takes the reins here. Hand on the back of your head, forcing his way deeper down your throat. He’s not a brute about it, of course. He’s gentle, but firm, pushing his cock inch by inch into your warm, wet, welcoming mouth. He hushes you when you gag, choking on his girth. “Slow down an’ catch your breath,” he says. “Through your nose. M’not goin’ nowhere.” 

His words soothe you. There’s a bit of panic that comes with him being so deep down your throat, but Tommy’s generous enough to give you the time to get used to him. Once you stop squirming, stop making those silly, cockdumb noises he loves so much, Tommy pulls out. And he pushes back in, and pulls out again. He repeats this until he’s steadily fucking your mouth, hand tangled in your hair. It’s less of something you do for him and more so something he does to you, reminding you of exactly who’s standing and who’s kneeling, here. 

“Open wide,” he tells you. “Quickly, darlin’.” Tommy pulls out of your mouth and jerks his cock furiously, sticking his tongue out at you to indicate what he wants you to do. You follow suit, and Tommy paints you in his load, all over your tongue and the back of your throat. “And swallow. That’s it, honey. Good girl.” 

You stand up, knees aching slightly. Tommy wipes a bit of his cum off your lip, then pushes it into your mouth. With a twinkle in his eye, he motions like he’s zipping his lips sealed; locks the key and tosses it over his shoulder and winks. “Pleasure doin’ business with ya, sweetheart, as always.” 

And he’s off. 

A week later, and you cannot fucking believe you got away with it. This kitten…god, what a clever, beautiful creature he is. Snoopy knows when to hide. He stays quiet, never arouses Joel’s suspicions. You’ve got a litter box filled with sand in an inconspicuous spot and you clean it daily, always when Joel’s not around. 

You have the most special connection with him. He sleeps in the pocket of your hoodie and plays with anything he can get his paws on. He still doesn’t like the rain, but he’s so soothed by your touch. And each night after Joel reads to you and kisses you, Snoopy appears like clockwork. It’s the gentlest little jump, the slightest shift of weight on your mattress. He tucks himself right under your chin and stays there until early in the morning, then watches the birds every morning, hiding behind your curtain. He does the cutest little ek ek ek’s that cats always do, probably saying nothing nice to any one of those birds. Little punk. 

Joel asked once about him. You told him that his mama probably found him, which isn’t entirely a lie. Joel says it’s better that way. 

The old man fucking bought it.

Snoopy’s curled up on your lap and purring happily as you brush him, collecting little tufts of black fur you’ll set outside tomorrow morning. The birds will have nice, warm, insulated nests for their babies, you think, smiling to yourself. 

Your nose tickles. You wipe it with your hand, putting more of his fur there. “Fuck,” you groan, scrunching your nose and wiggling your mouth. It’s in your eyes, too. It makes you sneeze, loudly, startling Snoopy. The claws come out immediately and dig into your bare thighs, and drag there as he launches himself off of you and darts under the bed. “FUCK! Snoopy, what the h–”

Blood is beading up on your thighs. Little kitten claws cut so deep, don’t they? Snoopy hasn’t quite figured out how to temper them, either, when to retract them. Blood is beading up on your thighs, dripping towards where gravity pulls it. Fuck, fuck, fuck. How will you explain this one to Joel, huh? He’s gonna come in here tonight to fuck you and he’ll see your bloodied and scratched thighs, what’ll you tell him? 

“Holy shit, okay. Ow,” you whine, hopping off the bed and hobbling toward the bathroom. The warm red dripping down your thighs makes you feel a little dizzy. It’s running toward your knees, now. “Ow, ow, ow, oh my god.” 

“Pumpkin?” Joel calls from his room. “You hurt yourself, baby?” 

Shit. Joel’s home? “No - I’m fine, Daddy.” 

“What’s ow?”

Silence. Joel knows you should have an answer for him. “Pumpkin…”

“I’m fine! Don’t–” 

Too late. Joel’s already out of his room and staring you down in the hallway, taking you in. Your bloodied thighs, the deer-in-the-headlights look. He counts the scratches on your thighs - four that are visible, all in irregular patterns. “What did you do?”

You purse your lips, squeezing your eyes shut as the cuts throb, and Joel knows you’re lying. You’re doing all your usual tells, hemming and hawing while looking to the side. “What did you do?”

Snoopy emerges from your room at that exact moment, and Joel pieces it all together. Fuming, he marches past you and down the stairs. Your stomach drops when you hear a drawer in the kitchen open, and then Joel’s stomping up the steps, wooden spoon in hand. “Again,” he spits. “Lyin’ t’me, a-fuckin’-gain.” 

“Daddy, no. Please d–”

Joel ignores you and drags you by the arm into your bedroom, where he sits on your bed. He forces you over his knee and tugs your shorts and panties down your ass, ripping them a little in the process. That fragile, old fabric. 

He hits you with the instrument, hard. He does it again, ignoring your cries of pain. Joel hits you until he can see the outline of the wood on your ass, “Tell me, Pumpkin. How’d ya pull this one off, huh?” 

Hit. You scream, then answer him. “I don’t know!” 

“You better fuckin’ speak up, girl.” 

Nothing from you, and another smack. It’s hard to think up another lie as Joel beats you raw, but you manage to. “You left the door unlocked,” you sob. “Daddy, please. I’m so sorry.” 

“When was this?”

“Like - like a week ago!” you cry. 

“Didja go anywhere?” he asks, raising the spoon to hit you again. That’s Joel’s main concern - you’ve been getting in and out? How long has this been going on? Who are you seeing, and what do you tell them? Joel’s blind and sick with rage and you, Pumpkin, you did this to him. And you did this to yourself. 

“I didn’t! Daddy, I did - listen to me, please. I’m telling you the truth. Daddy–” 

“You better spit it the fuck out, then. Go.” 

“It was storming, you left the door unlocked. I didn’t know it until I tried it. And I was scared for him, so I got him and brought him inside. And that’s all that happened, Daddy, you have to believe me.” 

“Yeah? Why should I, kid?” he pants, red in the face. “Fuckin’ lied before, haven’t ya?”

“Yes, but–”

“But what?”

But nothing. You break down and sob, waiting for more hits to come. Joel lets you cry it out for a moment, then drops the spoon. When he stands up, you’re afraid his belt is next. 

Joel walks away. He returns moments later, a basket of medical supplies in his hands. “Flip over,” he barks, still pissed off as ever. You do so immediately, and Joel sits on the edge of the bed. He spreads your thighs and inspects your scratches, then dabs some isopropyl alcohol onto a few cotton balls. 

“Don’t–”

“Shut the fuck up,” he says, wiping your injuries with the cotton ball. It hurts worse than the spankings did and makes you scream, but it distracts you from the pain of your raw, swollen, throbbing ass. “S’posed to hurt. It’s a punishment,” he says, moving onto the next one, and the one after that.

Joel fans air on your thighs, then unscrews the cap off some antibiotic ointment. He dabs a little on his fingertip, then runs the ointment over the scratches. “Don’t look at ‘em,” he warns, though you’ve already seen them. “I need ya to be honest with me.” Joel inhales deeply, then reaches for a roll of gauze and some medical tape, both half-used. “Is this whole kitten ordeal,” he asks, gesturing to wherever the hell Snoopy ran off to, “The only stunt you pulled?”

“Y–”

“Do not lie t’me again, so help me god.” 

“It’s the truth,” you answer, convincing yourself that it’s not a lie, and that you didn’t go and see Uncle Tommy, or suck his cock and swallow his cum on his brother’s kitchen floor. It’s not hard to do when your head feels as swollen as it does, sinuses all congested, cheeks puffy and raw from your tears. Anything to get through, you know…this.

Joel feels like he could fucking puke, knowing you escaped. He feels stupid for leaving a door unlocked. He feels stupid for trusting you, too. “Why don’tcha listen to me? Hm? Why d’ya have to buck me every goddamn step of the way? I put a roof over your head and give ya food and clothes an’ all I ask is that you just fucking listen.”

“I do listen,” you argue, searching for the words. “I’m trying - I really do try to, at least.” 

“Do you?” 

“Yes!” You’re defensive. Dishonest. You’re just like your daddy, aren’t you? Oh, you know the truth. You know you crave the fight and the challenge. The feeling that comes from winning against Joel…but that never seems to happen, does it? 

“Am I…bad, do you think?” 

Joel tilts his head, frowning, intrigued. “In there?” he asks, tapping gently where your heart beats and you nod, sniffling. “Oh, not at all, sweet girl. You’re not bad,” he says. He dabs some antibiotic ointment on one of the deeper scratches on your thighs, then covers it all with some gauze. “Not by a longshot. I think you’re trouble, Pumpkin, but you’re the furthest goddamn thing from bad. I love that heart of yours.” 

And Joel means that. You’re soft, tender, sensitive. Brave when you need to be. Stubborn as all get out. Joel’s special girl, always getting herself into messes he’s gotta clean up. It’s all part of parenthood. 

“You’re a good kid,” he says, “But you cannot keep doin’ shit like this to me, baby. My fuckin’ heart can’t take it.” 

Joel says it softly, in a pained way, knowing his words’ll eat at you, knowing that they already are. And they do - guilt is such an awful, nagging feeling, and it might just be the perfect motivator to get you to fucking obey. And sure, you like to hurt Joel, make him ache like he makes you ache. But causing him anxiety, deep upset…knowing what memory tugs in the back of his mind when you remind him that you can disappear if you really want to, as much as he tries to stop you. The little girl he told you about. 

Joel inhales deeply, then changes the subject. “M’gonna keep an eye on this. Cat scratches ain’t nothin’ to mess around with,” he murmurs. He lays you down on the soft mattress and brings his face close to your thigh, then gently kisses over the bandages he wrapped you in. 

Daddy’s always gonna do that, you know. He’ll always kiss your hurt all better, yes, even when he’s mad at you, yes, even when he’s disappointed in you. What else are daddies for, if not that very thing? 

Joel kisses over each of the covered scratches, coincidentally kissing his way toward your center, causing you to soak your lily-white sheets beneath your ass. You whine when he pulls away from where you need his kisses the very most. You always need him after your fights, to remind yourself that he loves you, and things can feel good with him. “Please, Daddy.” 

“No can do, Pumpkin. ‘F we screw up your bandages m’gonna have to do the whole thing all over again.” 

“Even the alcohol?”

“Reckon so,” Joel answers, laughing to himself when you pout at that. “Mmhmm, I know, sweetheart. We gotta make good decisions, don’t we?” he whispers, running his knuckle delicately along your cheekbone. “Daddy’s here to help ya make good choices. You know that?” 

“I know that,” you reply softly. 

Joel caresses your jaw softly, gently. “C’mere,” he says, but he brings himself to you. He kisses your forehead, both of your cheeks, your chin, and your nose…your lips. It’s something you don’t do enough, is kiss Joel. It’s a gentle peck at first, then deepens into something more than that. Joel’s tongue mingles with yours as he cages your body with his own. 

His hands on your neck, trailing down your breasts, pausing to gently squeeze at them. His hand goes lower and lower, fingers dipping into your heat to gauge just how badly you need this. If it’s worth the risk or not. 

And Christ, you’re soaked to the fucking bone, kid. You moan into Joel’s mouth, rutting your hips into his palm. “Ohh, fuck. Goddamn, honey,” Joel says. “I think we can do it, Pumpkin, but Daddy’s gonna go real slow and careful.” 

“Okay,” you nod, biting down on your grin. Joel will tease if he sees it. 

“Which means,” he adds, “You can’t get mad an’ throw a fit like usual when things don’t go your way. Right? Gotta be patient w’me.” 

“I’ll be patient, Daddy.” 

“Uh huh.” 

And that’s all Joel says before pulling away from you. He brings you with him momentarily, just to lift your shirt off and toss it elsewhere. Off comes his clothes next, one at a time. Joel’s in no rush. 

He lowers himself between your thighs, spreading them wide. He continues those kisses from earlier, working his way toward your center, and each one makes you throb. He kisses your lips, your mound, your belly. Joel inhales deeply, your gorgeous, warm, sugar-sweet scent. He can feel the heat radiating from your pussy on your skin, feel you thrumming with a need, a hunger only Joel - Daddy - can satiate. 

If it were a different day, if you weren’t already blemished by violence, he’d probably squeeze you hard enough to bruise. You’re soft like a peach, after all. But as promised, Joel’s gentle with you. Joel’s gentle with you as he licks a long stripe from the bottom of your pussy right to the very top, drawing a figure eight around your clit. “Guess the shape, Punk’n.”

You giggle, “Circle.” 

“Nope!” 

Joel does it again, and again, and again. “I don’t know, Daddy,” you breathe, “Figure eights?”

Joel laughs. “Attagirl,” he praises. He dips his tongue lower, nosing your clit while dipping his tongue in and out of you, tasting you. You make all the same sweet little noises you always make, quiet moans and soft whimpering. You soak his chin and the bedsheets beneath you, fingers tangling around Joel’s gorgeous, silvery curls. 

Joel savors you, like you’re syrup on his tongue. He inserts two fingers into your heat, rubbing against that special place inside you, steadily guiding you toward your release. 

Like when you lie, you have tells. Shaking, trembling thighs, a quiet voice. Joel licks and licks and licks, and there it is - cumming hard on Joel’s fingers, pulsing around them, gushing into the palm of his hand. 

Joel licks the mess, then pulls himself forward. He fits his hips between your thighs, cock bouncing between your bodies, red and swollen, beating in time with his heart. “Ready, kiddo?”

“Can I put it in?” you ask.

Joel guides his tip toward your slit, “Mm-mm. Daddy’s doin’ it this time, baby. Maybe another time, ‘kay?” 

“Can I help, then?”

Joel rolls his eyes and smiles. “Oh, yeah? You can help?”

“Mhm.”

 He’s only a man, after all. Only a daddy. Who’s he to deny his pretty girl of such a thing? “Hold me right here,” he says, wrapping your hand around his shaft. You hold him as he fits himself inside you, then let go when he swats your hand away. He enters you quicker than he used to, testing you. Seeing how you handle him. “Lookit how good ya take it, baby,” he coos, looking down to see himself fully sheathed in your warmth. He pulls out, and he’s coated in ribbons of your creamy arousal, then pushes back in. He finds a pace, then saws his hips into you. “Yeah, nice an’ easy,” he whispers, making good on his promise to fuck you gently. And like a good girl, you take it, and you don’t complain. Not for more, not for less. You moan for Joel, making all of his favorite sounds, whimpering his name in that special way nobody else gets to hear. 

Joel’s hands wander your body, squeezing whatever handfuls of your flesh he can. “Daddy!” you squeak, wincing when he grabs your thigh. 

“Shit, baby. My bad. Lemme look–” Joel pauses to give your bandages a quick peek, then continues fucking himself into your tight cunt. “Easy, sweetheart. Easy.” 

Joel fucks you gently, steadily, and you feel at home. It used to feel scary - and Joel made it scary - but there is something about it now that comforts you. Something about his body wrapped around yours, his nakedness, his weight and his warmth. Joel, finding himself closer to his orgasm, licks his fingers and massages your clit to coax your own along. 

Pleasure ripples through you, washing over you in non-rhythm. Your pulsating walls have Joel coming just behind you, pressure building deep in his gut in the same way it does yours. Balls tightening, brow pinched together, Joel grits his teeth and growls as he cums, drowning out your pleasured noises with his own. “Oh, fuck Goddamn, fuck,” he grunts, milking the last of himself before he begins to soften. 

Joel pulls out of you, then bends down and grabs his t-shirt, uses it to clean the mess he made of you. “Go potty, sweet pea,” he pants, catching his breath. 

“Daddy.” 

“Not arguin’. Go.” 

He flops in your bed, watching as you walk naked to the bathroom, watching you relieve yourself, feeling his cock stir at that, despite having just orgasmed. 

You flush the toilet and wash your hands, then join Joel in bed where he pats the space next to him. You snuggle him, inhaling his warm, sweaty skin, feeling at peace until…until you remember what’s coming after this. 

“So, uh…”

“Hm, baby?”

“About the cat.” 

“The rodent you’ve been feedin’ my eggs to, yeah, what about him?” Joel scoffs. 

“Just wondering.” 

“Uh huh. Heard ya named him, right?”

“Snoopy.”

Joel nods. “M’not mad at you for takin’ care a’ him, ya know. I’m mad about the lyin’, the disobeyin’.”

“Yeah. I know,” you whisper. Before it all feels heavy again, Snoopy jumps into bed with you and Joel, breaking the tension. He bravely walks over Joel like he’s not even there, then curls up into your side, settling right in that elegant curve between your hip and rib cage. 

“So this is Felix, huh?”

“No, his name is Snoopy. I just told you.” 

“Ahh, Snoopy. My bad.” Joel rests one hand behind his head, then scratches the kitten with the other. “Thing’s fuckin’ ugly,” Joel mumbles, using just one finger to tickle the creature. “Pretty screwed up lookin’ dog f’ya ask me, Punk’n.”

“Daddy,” you scold. Snoopy closes his eyes and purrs, tilting his head into Joel’s hand, leaning into his touch before betraying you by walking over to Joel. He lays on Joel’s chest, happily melting into those firm, warm strokes Joel gives him before settling against his neck. You hope Snoopy stays this snuggly forever. 

“Please let me keep him, Daddy.” 

“I dunno, kiddo. I’ll have to think on it.” Joel lifts Snoopy, ignoring his whines, then places him in your hands. He groans and lifts himself up and out of bed, then turns off the overhead light, leaving your lamp on. “You’re lucky I love ya,” he says, then kisses your forehead. “I mean it, honey. I do.” 

“I love you too,” you whisper, and Joel kisses you again. It’s not quite bedtime but it’s getting there, and Joel’s ready to lie in a bed that actually fits him, maybe read a book. Give you time with Felix…Snoopy…whatever the fuck his name is before he’s gone for good. Because no, Pumpkin, you cannot keep him. Rules are rules, and that cat is going outside where he belongs. 

Joel lies in his bed, reading glasses on as he flips through a book you’ve been asking to read, checking for pornography and other things of that nature, when a certain someone interrupts. Snoopy’s tugging on his comforter, clawing his way up the mattress to meet Joel, taking back his spot on Joel’s chest. “What are you doin’ here,” Joel mumbles, once again moving the kitten away. This time, Snoopy doesn’t just vocally protest, no. He swipes at Joel’s finger, nicking him right by the knuckle, then settles on his torso again. “Shit. Fuckin’ asshole.” Joel sucks his finger as he glares at the kitten. 

Snoopy stares back at him, then lowers his head and rests his chin on his little paws. “Guess you’re kinda cute,” he murmurs. “Aren’t ya.” As if on cue, the kitten flips over, exposing its belly to Joel. He laughs. 

“Bet your girl’s missin’ ya, knucklehead. Go bug somebody who actually likes ya. Scram, Felix.” 

Snoopy must’ve learned his defiance from you. He closes his eyes and opts for a nap on Joel’s warm body instead. 

There was never a definitive yes. Every time you asked about Snoopy, Joel would give you some half-hearted answer, followed by some snarky comment. 

“Can we keep him?”

“Sure, kiddo.” 

“Really?”

“Uh huh, gonna keep him and cook him up with onions an’ garlic for dinner. Since he likes to be on my fuckin’ counters so much, hm?” Joel gently pushes Snoopy off the countertop. 

“He likes to be tall,” you argue from the floor, petting a Snoopy that’s doubled in size since you brought him in from the storm. 

“Oh, give me a fuckin’ break. Likes to be tall.”

“I mean it,” you tell Joel, “I read that cats like to be up high. Maybe he’d stay off your counters if you made him a cat condo. Nice and tall.” 

“A cat condo, hm? So it’s not enough I’m sharin’ my home with this asshole, I gotta make him his own special little house, too?” 

“Well, yeah. You could make a scratching post and everything for him. That way he’ll stop scratching at your rocking chair.” 

Joel stops, then narrows his eyes at you and your little buddy. “He’s doin’ what t’my rockin’ chair?”

More dark daddy!joel here

Ty for your patience and ty for reading. Nice words keep me motivated to write. Everybody take care.

[fushitoru]

trouble a gojo satoru fic

pairing ⸺ bully!satoru gojo x reader

summary ⸺ an unexpected tutoring session with your bully satoru gojo leads to somewhere...unexpected

warnings ⸺ SMUT (MDNI), fluff, slight angst, college au, porn with really mid plot, bullying, humiliation, PANTY INSPECTION, p i v sex, unprotected sex, aftercare, creampie, he whimpers a lot but also degrades you a lot, gojo satoru king of dirty talk it might not make sense lolz, this is not edited in the slightest, didn't even do it a once over, implied that reader is a virgin but not really art by the goat 3-aem

a/n sorry for being so ia. will be answering asks after the ao3 author ahh events that went on this past week T-T as a result this is kind of mid, might delete later, based on this req

general masterlist

This could not be happening to you. NO, no, no. You must be dreaming, right?

Because Satoru Gojo was sitting right across from you in your math professor’s office, looking akin to a kicked puppy, ears drooping as your professor continued ranting about his late assignments, his efforts to cover his grades up, lost potential, laziness, how he should learn from you—but you were only dreading the aftermath of this conversation, when you were left alone with Gojo. 

Because he was your college bully.

It didn’t get as violent as in those Asian dramas, but you were often left humiliated from the nuisance he was. For example, take the instance when you both first met. 

Head deep in the textbooks you just bought, you were scanning the formulas in an effort to get ahead; after all, for someone like you—dependent on a scholarship to attend university—slacking off was not an option. Only for the nepo trust fund babies—which you were not. There, in the prestigious university you had fought tooth and nail to get into, you were at peace. 

But it all went out the window as someone moved to tap you on your shoulder, making you turn your head towards possibly the most handsomest boy you’ve ever seen but undeniably a spoiled kid. Because what came out of his words were definitely grounds for sexual harassment.

“Are Asian people your type? Because I’m China get in your japanties.”

If crickets could make their way into the study room you were sitting in, their chirps would be LOUD. You blinked, heat creeping up your face as he leaned closer to your face, eyes flirtingly honing in on yours and your lips. Abruptly—-flustered—you stood up, gathering your belongings and apologizing profusely. “I”m so—sorry—I don’t—-you might be talking to the wrong per—” because there was no way in hell he was addressing you. From what you could see, he looked like a rich kid, the kind with a lot of money—something that could land you in trouble. You booked it the hell out of there, ignoring the confused look on his face and missing the disappointment flicker across it as he saw your retreating figure leave his sight.

And thus, your love story with Satoru Gojo—who you soon found out was the most popular boy on campus—started. 

Small encounters with Gojo kept plaguing your first semester. They would be chance encounters, where Gojo would catch your eye in the middle of a crowd and make his way towards you, a snarky grin creeping up his face as he cornered you into a hallway with less traffic. Sometimes even in a closet.

It wouldn’t be anything grave, to say. All he would ask is how your day was, all sweet nothings and cute smiles made to woo you. And they definitely did—but you couldn’t let it show, couldn’t let him woo you.

“What’s your next class, baby?” The both of you were in a janitor’s closet, him having cornered you in the room and locked  the door. You kept biting your lip nervously, the edge of it red and swollen as you peered at him somewhat nervously.

“Uh—I don’t know,” you whispered, darting your eyes somewhere on the floor, so he wouldn’t see the avoidant look on your face.

Let’s get the record straight: you weren’t scared of Gojo. Sure, at 6’ 3’’ with piercing, glow-in-the-dark sapphire eyes, he made you nervous, but you knew you could pine for him at best. Because god knows what would happen if you ever cross him or his dozens of fan girls, some with considerably more power than you on campus. Putting a target on your back while you were trying to graduate wasn’t one of your goals, but trying to pass your math classes with honors was.

And you hated the fact Gojo could read you like a book. Because in the cramped, dark space, his eyes were almost..soft as he put his forearm across the wall on top of your head, effectively caging you in as he steps toward you. You hug your big and heavy books closer to your chest, the squish of your breasts over your top not lost to Gojo who eyes them with lidded eyes. Then, they make their way to meet yours, and it’s like he can see the pining in your eyes. The fact that he’s a carrot dangled in front of your head, something you want but if you ran, you would never have him. A perpetual race to make him yours.

He smiles, gives a soft chuckle. “You don’t know?” he teases you and your blatant lie. “C’mon, let me walk you there.”

But you blurt out an immediate “No!” and then regret it, because hurt flashes across his face. “I mean–” you falter, “please don’t. You’ll be seen publicly with me.”

A quizzical look, one that is so innocent that it makes you want to cry, because how could Gojo ever understand your problems? “What’s the problem?” And then he pouts. “You embarrassed of me?”

“No–no—” you shake your head, squirming slightly from where you were both standing. “It won’t be good for you, for me.” Then, you swallowed, waiting and screening for his reaction.

Praying to whatever gods that were listening to you that he would understand, it seemed that they were answered because an emotion you couldn’t place etched its way on his face until he nodded. A resolute one, yet something that made you a bit…uneasy was in his eyes. Because it meant nothing but trouble.

Then on went your days. Seven days, in fact, because it only took a week for you to be walking across the hallway, daydreaming about a boy without a face cuddling you in the winter, eating cookies in Christmas. You hated being single and hated the fact you were confined to your academic responsibilities; quickly, your professors caught onto your potential, assigning you to tutor your peers during recitations. You preened at the attention and validation but felt lonely because it occupied all your time to catch up on others’ expectations. In your rumination of your upcoming responsibilities, you didn’t notice the hand shoot out and firmly grab your arm until you were in a janitor’s closet. Yet again.

Shocked, you resisted the unknown person who had led you in here, instincts flaring up until said person turned on the light. 

Gojo.

“Gojo, what are you—” You didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence, as Gojo had covered your mouth with his arm, one to avoid causing too much commotion before you were discovered there.

“You said no one could see us, right?” A mischievous—yet yearning—look flashed across his face and it was then you realized his play. “So this is okay?”

No, this stubborn man wasn’t going to let you go—he was going to torment you. In secret.

The only response you could conjure your brain was a whimper because a tentative hand was creeping its way up your thigh, softy caressing the insides of it. All you could feel was pleasure and how it was so right despite it being so wrong that Satoru Gojo, the campus sweetheart, had cornered you into the janitor’s closet to give you the most dizzying touches, some you couldn’t deny.

So when he moved his other hand that was at your mouth to grab at your pink skirt, he lifted the hem with both his hands and then paused. Looked at you with darkened eyes. “Let me do this.”

You could only close your eyes in your flustered state, pinching them shut as you gave him a slight nod. It only took him a millisecond to move, using both of his hands to uncover what was between your thighs, eyes focused and widening as he inspected your panties.

“Pink with hearts, huh?” You could hear the chuckle in his voice, the cockiness basically oozing out and you could only continue to heat up deeper. “I like it, baby.” Jumping as you felt his hands roam and trace the edges of your panties, he hooked his finger in the crotch, your thighs tightening slightly as his index just oh so grazed your bare folds as he pulled and pulled, until he let go of the tension and it snapped back in its place. “Look at me.”

As per his instruction, you opened your eyes, only to be taken aback by the intensity in his. Then, his lips moved. “Be my girlfriend.”

The moment broke as clarity hit you. This shouldn’t have happened. “I’m sorry, Gojo, but—”

“Don’t call me that,” he groaned, stepping back and raking an arm through his hair. “What’s even your problem? Did I do something wrong?”

Incredulous, you utter out a “Something wro—you don’t think you did something wrong?”

He looked at you for a bit, made to say something, but you cut him off. “You know what Gojo? Get this through your head. We can’t do this. I don’t know how many girls fall for this, but I can’t. I’m sorry.” With that, you made to move, but he quickly reached out, pleading for you to stay. You wrenched his hand out of your grip and said, in the most serious voice you could muster, “Don’t ever talk to me again.” And you walked out, pretending you weren’t scared of what would happen after you retaliated against the Satoru Gojo.

Surprising, all went well for the rest of the semester. You did get some whispers and stares because of the stray rumor or two passing around about you and the mysterious instances when the campus king stared at your figure for a flicker too long. But it wasn’t nothing but passing because you didn’t share any classes with Gojo, and he respected your wishes. You didn’t miss the bitterness in his stare when you passed by his friend group in the hallway, speeding up to shake off the weight of his eyes on you.

So, you were at peace. Until second semester’s Calc III.

You soon realize that with gradients and vectors comes an additional burden, one specifically sporting white hair. Because as you’re pulled into your math professor’s office and see him, you oh so desperately want to book it. 

“And this, Satoru,” your professor pauses and looks at him sternly while gesturing towards you, “is your ticket out of failing. Miss Y/N here,” he gives you a comforting smile, one that does nothing to ease the stiffness flooding your body at the thought of Gojo right next to you, “has the highest grade in the class. She’s a seasoned teaching assistant too, helping a lot of people in her classes next year.” You silently curse, your smile growing more strained as you realize Gojo’s looking at you. “I trust that you’ll be in good care.”

Once the professor finally dismissed you both, you braced yourself, shoving your notebook back into your bag with far more force than necessary. The prospect of *actually* tutoring Satoru Gojo—the one person who seemed hell-bent on making college a gauntlet for you—was absurd.

You didn't look up as you pushed past him, but Gojo kept pace, following you out of the office and down the hall with that easy, unbothered stride of his. "So," he drawled, “how's this tutoring thing going to work? Are you coming to my place, or am I coming to yours?”

You stopped, turning to face him. "My place," you said firmly. The thought of seeing him lounging in some flashy, high-end apartment was insufferable. Besides, at least in your dorm, you could set some ground rules.

He blinked, looking surprised. "Your place? Bold move, Miss Perfect," he teased, that trademark smirk flickering onto his face. “Didn’t think you’d be so eager to have me over.”

"Trust me, Gojo, I'm only doing this because I have to. And there will be rules," you said, crossing your arms. "No messing around, no games—just math."

“*Just math,*" he repeated, his tone playful as his eyes glinted with mischief. “Got it.”

You swallowed, hoping he meant it. "Fine," you said briskly. "I’ll see you tomorrow at six. Don’t be late."

“Oh, wouldn’t miss it,” he replied, and with a little salute, he strolled off, leaving you with a sense of impending doom.

The knock came precisely at six.

You opened the door, and there stood Satoru Gojo, surprisingly punctual, hands shoved into his pockets and a playful grin on his face. You gestured to the small study area you’d set up by your desk, filled with neatly organized notes and textbooks.

“Take a seat,” you said shortly. “We’ll start with the basics.”

He slid into the chair, his gaze flitting from the textbooks to you, an amused glint in his eye. “You weren’t kidding about tutoring. You’re all set up like a professional.”

You ignored the remark and opened the textbook to the chapter on derivatives. “Alright. Let’s go through this. If you understand derivatives, the rest of Calc III will start making sense.”

For a while, he seemed to actually pay attention. He followed along, asking a few questions, which you answered as patiently as possible. But as the explanations went on, his attention started to drift. After one too many halfhearted nods, you frowned, putting your pencil down.

“You’re not even trying, are you?”

He leaned back in his chair, that smirk resurfacing. “Maybe I just wanted an excuse to spend time with you.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting off the blush creeping up your cheeks. “You needed my help. I didn’t force you to come here. If you don’t want to do this, then—”

He held up a hand, the teasing gone from his face. “Alright, alright. I’ll focus.” He paused, then added, “In fact, to show you I mean it, I’ll do you a favor. Whatever you want. My way of saying thanks.”

You eyed him warily. “A favor?”

“Anything,” he said, leaning in with a grin that spelled trouble. “What’ll it be? An escort to class? Carrying your books around? Name it.”

 “I’ll let you know when I think of something.” You’re dismissive, knowing he’s not that serious about this, playful about this like he is everything else. 

He chuckled, nodding. “Looking forward to it.”

And with that, he finally settled into his chair, this time with genuine focus, leaving you both in the kind of quiet that held a new, unspoken promise—a favor, an IOU hanging in the air between you.

You don’t know how you ended up under Gojo on your bed. 

Satoru sat close—closer than you’d expected. His knee brushed yours as he leaned forward to study your notes, and every few minutes, his arm would brush against your hand as he reached for the pencil you were using to write equations. Each little touch sent a jolt through you, and judging by the lingering glances he kept giving you, he didn’t mind it either.

“Okay, so the derivative here is...?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady as you pointed at the next problem.

Satoru leaned even closer, squinting at your notebook. “I think I get it,” he murmured, his face inches from yours, his breath warm as it brushed your cheek. But instead of looking at the math, his eyes flicked to yours, lingering just a second too long.

Your heart hammered as you forced yourself to focus. “Right. So you should get… uh… that answer,” you managed, feeling his gaze still trained on you.

“Uh-huh,” he replied, not breaking eye contact. His hand shifted on the table, the back of his fingers grazing yours.

You didn’t move. Neither did he. Your fingers stayed where they were, brushing against each other, the soft, deliberate touch making the silence between you feel louder. Finally, you broke the tension by clearing your throat, quickly pulling your hand away to grab a different textbook.

“So—um, yeah, you’re almost there,” you stammered. “But you missed a step here.” You pointed to another section, hoping he wouldn’t notice the slight shake in your voice.

He noticed, of course. You could see his smirk in the corner of your eye.

“Is that all I missed?” he asked, leaning so close that his shoulder pressed against yours. His voice was lower now, more intimate.

You nodded, trying to focus on the page but finding it impossible with him so close. “Yeah. Just… that,” you said softly.

“Thanks,” he murmured, his voice dropping even more as he shifted his hand, his knuckles brushing against your knee now. It wasn’t intentional—at least, you thought it wasn’t—but neither of you moved. You felt frozen, caught in a quiet, charged moment, where all you could hear was your own heartbeat.

You swallowed, forcing your gaze back to the problem on the page. “Maybe, um… maybe we should take a break?” you suggested, needing a second to breathe.

He tilted his head, an amused, knowing, intense glint in his eye. “A break sounds nice.” 

Your breath caught as he looked at you like that, his hand still warm where it lingered just a little too close. And in that brief moment, you wondered just what kind of favor you’d end up asking of him—or what he might ask of you in return.

And it seemed like he knew what you were thinking. “Hey,” he said oh so breathlessly, in the way that made you want to throw yourself at him yet simultaneously bludgeon his head in, “wanna fuck?”

You reeled back, incredulous, but he quickly grabbed your head with both his hands, gently drawing you in. “What?”  

“I mean,” and he giggled, “what better use of a favor for than me to rid you of your virginity?”

You gasp, struggling in his hold to no avail. “Why would you assume I’m a virgin? I have plenty of experience, thank you very much—”

All the man does is snigger, despite your glare at him and looks at you, peering at you through his eyelashes with an oh-so-adoring smile. “It was clear how much you soaked through your panties that last time you’re a virgin, baby.” And you can’t help but whimper, reduced to a melting mess because of his sweet words. 

He laughs meanly. “If you’re not a virgin, you better not be soaked right now, baby. I’m kind of excited to see what panties you’re wearing this time” He moves his hand between your thighs, and you pliantly spread your legs for him, clenching as his hands rove over your panties in between your skirt. And he’s right, because it’s almost like you’ve wet your panties with the way your slick was flooding out of you because of your proximity with Satoru. “Look at that,” he coos and he pulls his hand away, much to your dismay, to examine his fingers. They glisten vulgarly in the fairy lights in your dorm, and Satoru turns his head to look at you. “So you gonna let me fuck you?”

And that, dear reader, is how you find yourself face down in your plushies on your dorm room bed, clutching them for dear life as Satoru spews dirty talk as if he was born doing it. “Satoru, faster!” you sob, having gone past the initial discomfort of having something in your pussy. 

“Satoru, faster,” he mocks you, grabbing your hips and drilling into your heat, groaning at how you’re just so tight. The tears flowing down your face make you even more beautiful as you succumb to your pleasure, one that no one other than Satoru has ever made you feel. “Isn’t this what you wanted? For me to fuck you?” You don’t answer past your moaning, and that annoys the fuck out of Gojo. He slaps your ass consecutively and can’t help but be more aroused looking at the red handprints he leaves. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” you moaned, anything to stop his assault on your ass, “I wanted this is sooo bad.” At that—rather than being satiated—Satoru sped up, hitting your spot with the accuracy of a sharpshooter.

“Yea, baby?” He laughs, meanly, leaning down to grab you by the chin, forcing you to look at him. His fingers squished your cheeks, thereby pursuing your lips as he tried not to cum from the sight of your eyes rolling back with each stroke into you. From the way you were clenching and pulsing more regularly around him, he could tell you were close. “Gonna cum?”

You whined, nodding while sobbing into his hands, trying to focus on the feeling of orgasming. It was so close, you could feel it coiling in your belly—

Just for him to rip out of your cavern, leaving you in shambles due to the emptiness you were feeling. “What—”

He tutted, his hand now slowly stroking his cock while he was sitting on his knees, looking down at you. “I’m only letting you come if you agree to be my girlfriend.”

“Gojo, what—”

“It’s Satoru,” his eyes flared, looking at you with an intensity you hadn’t noticed before. “And say it. Say you’ll be mine.”

For a moment, you searched his eyes for any signs. Signs of insincerity, of humor. But all you could find was desperation and yearning. Ever since you kept having your chance encounters with Gojo, you couldn’t help but deny the fluttering in your heart; the way his eyes unconsciously looked for you, a mere stranger he had taken interest in, in every crowd made you feel seen in a world where you were otherwise invisible.

And you couldn’t help but want to continue being in that world, in his world.

“Fine,” you whispered. “I’ll be your girlfr—”

Before you could finish, he smashed his lips into yours, joining them in a messy, wet embrace. His tongue explored your mouth in a way that made you leak even more while he aggressively laid back down on the mattress, effortlessly lifting you onto his crotch and onto his dick. As he thrusted into you, desperately, he couldn’t help but continue blabbing sweet nothings.

“I’ll treat you so well—haah—take you out on dates,” he heaved, eyes watering as he thrusted slowly into you in long, deep strokes. His eyes never left you as he made love to you, his face going up to nuzzle in between your breasts, peering at you through lidded eyes lovingly. “Fuck you well every night, show you off to the world.”

You could only sob Satoru as you looked at his face through your tears, him doing all the talking for you. “Every day,” he groaned, his cock pulsing and twitching in your walls, “I’ll love you like you’re my wife and fuck you like you’re my slut. So—” and he took a sharp intake of breath, one that you could interpret as him getting close with the way his hips were continually getting more and more sloppy, “so proud of you, baby. Gonna take care of you.” Then, he meets his eyes with yours as he starts to speed up, hand moving to gently rub at your clit in circles, with such prowess that you know you’re not going to last long. “Pull you—haah—pull you aside and see what panties you wore for me that day. Coming inside—coming inside and making you walk around with my cum leakin’ out of your panties.”

And then he whimpers as he loses control. “Gonna—” he utters in between short breaths, “gonna come baby. Come with me.”

“I will, Satoru,” you whine. “Please, I wanna—I wanna kiss!” That’s when Satoru can’t hold himself back anymore, his cum shooting in ropes inside of you at the innocent gesture you wanted him to do while he was doing such filthy things to you. You come alongside with him, everything so overwhelming as you ride out your orgasm on top of him. 

As you’re both settling down from your orgasm, he pulls you off—the both of you wincing at the sudden emptiness—as he lays you down next to him. Without a word, he nuzzles in between your breasts, giving a content sigh as he literally melts like a cat, relaxed in your embrace. You can’t help but giggle at his antics, and he takes his face out of your cleavage to give you a boyish grin. “What’re you laughing at?” “Nothing,” you shake your head. “Just the fact I’m chained to you now.”

“Hey!” he pouts, moving his arms so he’s embracing you tightly, effectively trapping you in. “Say that again and I’m going to sleep on top of you and never leave.”

“Can’t believe I’m chained to y—”

Satoru plops on top of you, making a show of tickling your ribs and stomach as you gasp and laugh in surprise. “Satoru!” He doesn’t relent, until you feel a familiar liquid ooze and leak out of your pussy.

This time, your shriek of Satoru’s name doesn’t go unnoticed. At the murderous look on your face–as well as the sheer messiness in between your thighs—he gets up. Smiles sweetly. “Should just leave you like this, leaking my cum. It’s only fair for how you ignored me!”

At that, he gets a pillow to his face, reminiscent of a kicked puppy as he trudges to your bathroom to clean you up. 

general masterlist

comment and reblog your thots! <3

[killerplink]

Shameless

Pairing: Jason Todd x Female Reader

Words: 10k

Plot: You're supposed to head straight home after the bar. You really are. But you're drunk, and needy, and so desperate for him that somehow you're in an alley getting absolutely wrecked against a wall.

The bar is dim and comfortably loud, some old rock song spilling from the jukebox while Jason leans back against the booth, arm draped along the backrest, watching you with a lazy smile. You're already two drinks and some shots deep—which, for you, is a lot—and it shows in the way you're slumped just slightly against his side, giggly and loose, eyes a little glassy under the neon glow.

He knew you needed this. Knew this week had been a fucking nightmare for you. And yeah, maybe getting you tipsy wasn't the most responsible move, but God, you're cute like this, all soft and clingy and running your mouth without a filter.

"Y'know," you slur a little, gesturing wildly with your glass, "that bitch from the subway? The one who kept pushing into me?" Your brows knit together in offended disbelief, like you're personally wounded all over again just thinking about her. "I shoulda knocked her fucking teeth out."

Jason has to bite the inside of his cheek, his grip tightening on his beer bottle as he lifts it to his lips. You're so damn small, and the way you say it, all dramatic and dead serious, makes it even funnier. But you're not joking. You slam your palm against his chest to drive the point home, which, to you, probably feels like a decent smack, but to him, it's barely a tap.

"Right?" you demand, eyes wide and expectant, waiting for him to back you up.

Jason clears his throat, desperately swallowing the grin threatening to break free. "Yeah, baby. Totally. Shoulda knocked her the fuck out."

"Exactly!" you nod so hard your whole body sways, and Jason has to steady you with his free hand to keep you from sliding right off the seat. "No respect. None! Who does that?"

You keep ranting, every slurred complaint punctuated with another dramatic gesture or a wild wave of your drink. Jason just sits there, half listening, half savoring how fucking adorable you are like this, all small and feisty, tipsy and dramatic, tucked into his side like you belong there.

He loves you so much it's fucking stupid. And it's only a matter of time before that sweet mouth of yours gets him into trouble tonight, one way or another.

By the time your third drink arrives, your body feels warm and heavy, head swimming in that sweet, fuzzy way that makes everything feel a little softer, a little funnier, and way hornier than it should.

Jason's sitting there next to you, all broad and solid, wearing that black t-shirt that stretches just right over his chest and arms, showing off all that ink. His thighs, thick and spread wide, are right there next to yours, and you can't help yourself—your free hand starts to wander.

You trace slow circles along the inside of his thigh, your fingers sneaking higher each time until your knuckles almost brush the bulge straining against his jeans. Jason tenses just slightly, the muscle under your palm jumping at the touch, but he doesn't stop you right away.

He's used to your drunk grabby hands by now, and hell, it's flattering how fast you get worked up for him. But his dick? His dick's got no chill, thick and half-hard already, and your teasing fingers aren't helping.

"Baby," he murmurs, his free hand curling around your wrist, stopping you gently. "Behave."

You pout instantly, squirming closer until you're practically in his lap, your big, glossy eyes locked on his like you're about to cry over it.

"Jay," you mumble, voice all soft and slurred, "you're so fucking hot."

He huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he takes another sip of his beer. "Am I?"

You nod. Hard. Like you're trying to convince him of a life-or-death fact. "Hottest guy I ever been with," you say, and Jason's ears go pink at the blunt praise. "Can't believe you chose me."

Jason's brow arches, that soft smile curving his lips. "What do you mean, pretty girl?"

You just shrug, lifting your drink to your mouth again, and miss it entirely, half your sip spilling down your chin, sticky and sweet. Jason sighs, amused, and reaches out with his thumb, gently swiping the alcohol off your skin.

That's when your grin turns wicked. Before he can pull his hand away, you catch his wrist, pulling his thumb between your lips. Your tongue flicks against the pad before you suck gently, cleaning off the spill like it's the most natural thing in the world. But your mind? Your drunk, horny mind immediately derails into filth.

You wish it was his cock instead. Thick and hot, sliding across your tongue, stretching your lips wide, fucking your throat until you're gagging and drooling and swallowing down every messy drop of his cum.

Your thighs clench under the table, the sudden rush of slick making you squirm, a soft whimper slipping out before you can stop it. Jason's brow furrows, his beer halfway to his mouth.

"Baby," he asks, voice lower now, "you okay?"

You nod too hard again, the world tilting slightly around you as you lean in, your hand landing high on his thigh once more. "Wanna fuck," you whisper, way too loud for how crowded the bar is.

Jason barks out a surprised laugh, shaking his head like he can't believe you. But fuck if it isn't turning him on, how unfiltered and needy you get for him when you're drunk.

"Jesus Christ," he mutters, tipping back the rest of his beer in one long swallow before setting the bottle down with a clink. "Okay, pretty girl. Let me pay the tab and we'll go home, yeah?"

You hum happily, already leaning into his side, and Jason's hand settles warm on your thigh, fingers tracing mindless shapes while his other hand fishes his wallet out. You're still thinking about his dick—hot and leaking, sliding into your mouth, fucking your throat open before he bends you over and makes a mess of your pussy. And you've got zero intention of waiting until you're home to get your hands on him.

Before you leave, you decide you need the bathroom, weaving your way through the crowded bar with Jason's hand at the small of your back, his touch warm and steady, guiding you even though you're not exactly steady yourself.

The bathroom is... well, a Gotham bar bathroom—dim, one flickering fluorescent light buzzing overhead, cracked mirror, graffiti covering the stall doors. It smells like vodka, faint piss, and one of those cheap lavender air fresheners, and honestly? You've pissed in worse. You handle your business, wash your hands, and catch your reflection in the smeared mirror.

You look... a little wrecked already. Cheeks flushed, lips glossy and a little swollen from how you've been biting at them all night. Your eyeliner's still holding on, but your hair's a mess from leaning into Jason every time you got touchy, and you always get touchy when you drink. Still, even a little tipsy and sloppy, you grin at yourself, knowing damn well Jason still looks at you like you hung the fucking moon.

You smooth your hands down your skirt, adjust your top, and stumble your way back out, only to immediately see her.

Some too-pretty bitch draping herself all over your man like she doesn't know he's taken, her stupid pink acrylic nails tracing up his arm, leaning way too close into his space like she's got a shot in hell.

And Jason? He looks exactly like you expect—bored out of his fucking mind. He doesn't smile, doesn't lean back, doesn't flirt. His body stays turned toward you, eyes scanning for you even as she talks, and the second you step back into view, his shoulders relax like Thank fuck you're back.

But you? Oh, you're seeing red.

"Excuse me?" you shout, voice cutting through the music and bar chatter like a fucking gunshot. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Jason groans under his breath—"Oh, shit." —but it's too late. You're already stomping toward them, small but furious, your heels clacking hard against the floor like you're about to fight for your goddamn life.

The girl barely gets a chance to blink before you're in her face, finger jabbing at her chest, your other hand pointing wildly at Jason like a woman unhinged.

"That's my man, you thirsty fucking skank. Go throw yourself at someone who doesn't have a girlfriend."

Jason stands immediately, his big hand wrapping around your waist, physically lifting you off the floor because you're already reaching for her hair, fully prepared to drag her across the bar.

"Doll," he says, low and firm, voice edged with both amusement and actual concern. "C'mon, pretty girl, let's go."

"No!" you shout, flailing in his grip like a feral little cat. "She—she touched you! You're mine!"

"I know, baby," Jason says, voice softer now, soothing, his lips brushing your ear as he starts hauling you toward the door. "I'm all yours, always yours, pretty girl, you know that."

The girl stares in shock, but Jason doesn't even glance back at her. His only focus is you. His loud, drunk, ridiculously hot girlfriend who's out here ready to commit assault over him, and damn if that doesn't make him feel a little smug.

Outside, the cool night air hits you, and you're still huffy, arms crossed tight, refusing to look at him. Jason tugs you into the nearest alley, far enough from the entrance that you've got a little privacy, and then he tips your chin up gently, making you meet his eyes.

"Baby," he says, soft and serious, "you know I don't give a fuck about anyone else, right? You're it for me. My perfect girl. Nobody else even exists."

You bite your lip, still pouting, but your heart melts, all fuzzy and warm at the edges. "Promise?"

"Swear on my life," Jason says, hand over his heart, even though you both know his heart's been yours since the day you stumbled into his world.

You sigh dramatically, leaning into him, forehead to his chest. "Okay," you mumble. "But if she looks at you again, I'm breaking her nose."

Jason huffs a laugh, arms wrapping tight around you, hiding his smile in your hair. "I know you will, doll."

Then it hits him. Fuck. He walked you both here. No car, no bike. And now he's got to get your tipsy, horny, fight-happy ass home on foot.

"Oh, this is gonna be a long walk," Jason mutters, but even with the impending chaos, all he feels is love.

Wild, messy, absolutely fucking insane love for his feral little girlfriend who'd burn the world down for him if he asked. Jason's big hand reaches for yours, callused fingers curling gently around your smaller ones, and you let him intertwine them, your palm snug against his, so much bigger, so warm, so him.

You look up at him, eyes still wide and pouty, lip poked out just a little, and Jason can't help it. He leans down, catching your mouth with his in a kiss that's meant to be sweet, but fuck, you're drunk and needy and soft under him, and it goes from gentle to hot and sloppy real fast.

You moan against his mouth, pressing up on your toes to get closer, tongue sweeping into his mouth, tasting beer and Jason and the faintest hint of cigarette smoke. Your free hand slides between you, fingers tracing down the front of his jeans until you find his dick, thick and warm, already stirring to life the second your palm cups him.

"Jesus Christ," Jason mutters against your lips, breaking the kiss with a panting breath. "Baby, you're insatiable."

"Yeah," you giggle, voice all breathy and fucked out already. "I want you so bad, Jay."

He takes a deep breath, trying to get his pulse under control, even though his cock is already hardening under your touch.

"C'mon, baby, let's get going. We'll be home in no time, yeah?"

You shake your head so violently you nearly knock yourself over, and Jason's quick, both hands grabbing your waist to steady you, brows raised in that exasperated, fond way that makes you feel like the most spoiled little brat in the world.

"No?" he asks, amusement curling in his voice. "What do you want, then?"

You pout, full-on drunk girl tantrum loading, tugging at his shirt like a needy little gremlin. "I want your dick, baby."

Jason laughs, head tipping back, the sound echoing off the brick alley walls. "I know, baby. And you'll get it." He cups your face, thumb dragging across your lower lip, eyes warm and full of affection. "Home. I'm not fuckin' you against a dumpster in Crime Alley."

You whine, actually whine, stomping your foot once for good measure. "But I'm so wet, Jay," you mumble, words all slurred and pouty. "My pussy hurts."

"Baby," Jason groans, running a hand down his face like he's in actual physical pain from trying to be a good man right now. "You are killin' me."

"So fuck me," you say, all wide-eyed, like you've cracked the fucking code.

Jason breathes deep through his nose, hands settling firm on your hips, holding you just far enough away from his dick so you can't start rubbing all over him again.

"Baby. Baby. Listen to me."

"No," you cut in, dramatically folding your arms under your tits, cleavage spilling in your too-tight top. "You listen to me. You always wanna fuck me. Why not now?"

Jason pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering something about needing fucking therapy, before he cups your cheeks again, squishing them until your lips pucker.

"Pretty girl, I do always wanna fuck you. But if I fuck you here, in this nasty-ass alley, I will never forgive myself. And you, my sweet, drunk little menace, will complain the whole way home about how your knees hurt or your back hurts or how you got gum in your hair from leanin' against this filthy fuckin' wall."

You blink at him, brain working overtime to process all that, and then you sniff. "Fine."

"Thank fuck," Jason sighs.

"But I'm walking all sexy so you stare at my ass the whole way."

"Baby," Jason groans, sliding a hand down to smack your ass once, hard enough to make you squeal and giggle. "You're a fuckin' nightmare."

"A sexy nightmare," you correct, wagging a finger in his face before you twirl dramatically toward the sidewalk, hips swinging like you're on a runway.

Jason follows, shaking his head, but fuck if he isn't staring at your ass just like you wanted. Even under the dim streetlights, the sway of your hips is hypnotic, that short skirt barely covering you, and all he can think about is getting you home, spreading you out, and ruining you properly.

But first? He's gotta get you both back alive.

His hand settles on the small of your back again, eyes scanning every shadow, every rooftop, every alley you pass, because it's Gotham. And drunk, horny, dramatic as you are, you're still his most precious thing. The only thing he'd throw himself in front of a bullet for without a second thought.

"Stay close, baby," he murmurs, fingers curling in your waistband, keeping you just a little closer as you both make your way down the sidewalk. "Don't need you wanderin' off."

You hum, leaning into him for a second before dancing away, spinning in a circle because you're drunk and happy and feeling yourself, and Jason knows—knows—that if you weren't so fucking adorable, he'd have lost his mind years ago.

His hand stays wrapped around yours, big and warm and strong, fingers interlocked so tight it feels like he's afraid you'll slip away if he lets go. You're not even thinking about the way his grip has a slight edge to it, the way his shoulders stay tense, scanning every shadow you pass, every figure leaning against a wall or sitting on a curb. To you, it's just Jason holding your hand like he always does, but to him, it's the only way to stop himself from grabbing the nearest asshole staring at your tits and slamming their face into a brick wall.

Because yeah, you're loud. Laughing too hard at your own jokes, voice bouncing off every building as you tell him how much you love his biceps, actually grabbing his arm with both hands and smooshing your cheek against it like it's the only pillow you ever want again.

"Baby, I swear to God, I think your arm is bigger than my whole head," you giggle, fingers barely stretching around the thickness of his bicep.

Your cheek stays pressed against him, your lips practically kissing the fabric of his jacket, and Jason just grunts, biting back a smile.

He's trying so fucking hard to stay focused. You're walking through downtown Gotham, and even though you're getting closer to Bristol, you're still technically in territory where he knows half the guys on the sidewalk have at least one weapon on them.

But you? You're bouncing beside him in your cute little skirt, tits pushed up perfectly, heels clicking on the pavement, and every time you laugh, your nipples press against the thin fabric like a filthy little tease.

Jason glances down just once, and fuck, you're not wearing a bra. His jaw clenches so tight his teeth might crack.

"Jay, Jay—hey," you tug at his arm, nearly tripping over a crack in the sidewalk. He catches you before you fall, one strong hand on your hip, the other still holding your hand tight. "I'm okay!" you announce, way too loud, grinning up at him.

"Yeah, I see that," he mutters, tugging you closer so you're practically walking under his arm now. "Maybe let me steer, baby, before you snap one of those pretty ankles."

You just hum, leaning into his side, your arm wrapping around his waist, your cheek back against his ribs this time, and you barely reach his shoulder like this, even with the height boost from your heels.

It's obscene, really, how small you are compared to him, and Jason feels it everywhere. In the way your soft hand barely wraps around his fingers, the way your arm can't even get all the way around his torso, the way your chin tilts up so far just to meet his eyes.

It's making his dick throb again, especially with the way you keep pressing against him like you can't get close enough, your tits practically plastered to his side. And when your hand slips lower, over his hip, fingers skimming his belt? Yeah, his dick definitely stirs again, already half-hard in his jeans.

But Jason grits his teeth, eyes flicking down a side street where a couple of guys lean against a car, watching you both pass with a little too much interest.

He could end them. Real easy. But that means letting go of you for even a second, and in a place like this, that's too much time.

So instead, he focuses on getting you both to Bristol. Once you're there, it's different. Still Gotham, sure, but way less grime, way fewer threats.

"Baby, your biceps," you murmur dreamily, still snuggled into his side. "I wanna live here. Make me a bicep hammock. I could just... take a nap right here."

"Jesus Christ," Jason huffs, half-laughing, half-suffering.

His hand squeezes your hip hard enough to make you gasp softly, and your thighs press together instinctively, slick panties clinging to your skin.

And you know it's bad—for him, for you—because you can already feel how wet you are, panties soaked just from the feel of his hand and the size of his arm and the fact that Jason fucking Todd is all yours.

Every broad inch of him belongs to you, and you want him so badly your nipples ache, hard and sensitive, the cool night air brushing them through your top with every step.

Jason feels it too, the way your body stays glued to his, warm and soft and sweet, all that restless, needy energy radiating off you like heat. And even though his jaw stays tight, his eyes sharp and scanning for trouble, his dick is already thinking about the safety of your shared apartment, where he can fuck you in peace.

But finally, you make it into Bristol, and Jason feels like he can breathe again. Shoulders easing just slightly, the tension that's been coiled in his spine since you left the bar loosens a fraction, though he's still hyper-aware of every footstep behind you, every flickering streetlight, every passing car.

Gotham's quieter here, but it's still Gotham. And no sane person drives a cab through this shithole, especially not after dark, which is exactly why you're stuck walking home. Buses aren't much better. Either they're not running at all, or they're full of people Jason would rather not share air with, let alone a seat.

But you? You're not thinking about cabs or buses or safety at all. You're too busy scanning the sidewalks like you're searching for treasure, except the treasure you want is a dark, secluded little alley where your man can fuck you until you're crying.

And you find one.

You stop so suddenly he nearly stumbles into you, and you gasp like you just discovered the lost city of gold.

"What now, doll?" he sighs, already bracing for whatever chaos is about to spill from your pretty mouth.

Your grin is downright wicked, that playful, tipsy sparkle in your eyes as you grab his arm with both hands and start walking backwards toward the alley entrance. It's tucked behind some trendy little wine bar, barely lit, and Jason's already shaking his head, planting his feet like a stubborn brick wall.

"Baby," he warns, voice low, but you're having none of it.

"Jay," you pout, stepping back into the shadows, fingers curling around his belt to tug him with you. "Please. Pleasepleaseplease. I can't wait. I'm so fucking wet, I swear it's dripping down my thighs."

"Jesus," he mutters, but his resolve is crumbling fast, especially when you grab his wrist and guide his hand under your skirt, between your thighs, pressing his fingers against the damp lace of your panties.

Jason hisses between his teeth, jaw clenched tight as his fingertips press into the soaked fabric, feeling just how messy you already are. "Fuck, baby," he groans, fingers stroking you through the lace until you're trembling. "You really are dripping."

You nod so hard it's almost comical, hips rocking into his touch, and he curses again, pulling his hand back before he loses whatever sliver of restraint he has left.

"C'mon, Jay," you murmur, voice all sweet and syrupy as you press your body against him. "No one's here. I need you so bad."

He's so fucking weak for you. He always has been. With a low, rumbling sigh, he grabs your hips and lifts you slightly off the ground, keeping your heels from clicking against the damp pavement, his strength so effortless it makes you dizzy.

Your arms loop around his neck, lips grazing his jaw, and you whisper, "Knew you couldn't resist me."

"Yeah, yeah," he mutters, but there's already a cocky smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he carries you further into the alley.

And to both your surprise, it's not that bad. No reeking garbage, no questionable puddles, just a slightly damp brick wall and enough privacy to make this work.

Jason pins you to the wall gently, broad hands spreading your thighs, fingers curling under the hem of your skirt to bunch it up around your hips, and the cool air against your soaked panties makes you shiver.

"We're doing this fast," he murmurs, voice dark and low as he towers over you, his body heat sinking into your skin. "Then I'm carrying your ass home and fucking you proper, got it?"

You just nod, biting your lip as your hips wiggle, trying to press against him. Before you can fully grind up against him, Jason pulls you off the wall like you weigh nothing, his big hand splayed across your back, holding you up effortlessly with just one arm.

"Hold still, baby," he murmurs, though there's a flicker of fond amusement in his voice.

You cling to him, hands grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, legs dangling slightly until he sets you down just long enough to shrug out of his leather jacket. Then he drapes it over your shoulders, the worn leather heavy and warm from his body heat, swallowing you whole.

"Don't want you all scratched up," he says, fingers brushing your cheek before he lifts you up and pins you back to the wall, his body following, pressing tight against yours.

The kiss that follows is messy, almost desperate, like neither of you has any patience left, his mouth slanting over yours, tongue licking deep between your parted lips. You taste like alcohol and sweetness, like the cocktails you couldn't stop sipping, and Jason tastes like beer and heat and him.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging hard enough to make him groan against your mouth, and he rolls his hips into you, grinding his thick cock against your sopping cunt through your panties, the rough denim dragging against the soaked lace until you whimper into his mouth.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, pulling back just enough to catch his breath, forehead pressed to yours. "You're so fuckin' wet. I can feel it through my jeans."

"Then stop teasing," you pout, hips canting against him again, your thighs trembling from the sheer ache of needing him inside you.

"Oh, baby," Jason grins, all teeth, his hand sliding between you to push your panties aside, fingers dipping low to swipe through your slick folds, making you jerk. "Teasing's my favorite part."

"Jay," you whine, voice high and thin, your hips trying to chase his fingers as they stroke along your slit, purposefully avoiding your clit. "Please. Don't—don't tease, I'm so wet, I need you, please."

"Yeah?" He drags his fingers lower, tracing around your entrance, gathering up your slick, rubbing it slow over your throbbing clit until your whole body jerks again. "You need me that bad, baby?"

"Yes," you cry, voice pitchy and desperate, hands fisting in his shirt. "Need your dick, need you to fuck me, pleasepleaseplease—"

Jason hums low in his throat, eyes dark and heavy-lidded as he watches you come undone right in front of him. "Greedy little thing," he teases, rubbing slow, deliberate circles over your clit until you're trembling against him. "So fuckin' needy."

"Because you made me like this," you snap, drunk enough that you barely have a filter, every single thought spilling from your lips. "You and your stupid big dick and your stupid perfect hands and your stupid hot face—"

Jason barks a laugh, cutting you off by sinking two fingers deep into your cunt with a filthy squelch that echoes through the alley, your protests melting into a soft, helpless moan.

"There we go," he murmurs, voice low and rough as his fingers pump in and out, stretching you open, slick dripping down to coat his knuckles. "Gotta open you up, baby. You know you can't take me if I don't stretch this sweet little pussy first."

You just whimper, hips rocking down onto his hand, your fingers scrabbling at his shoulders, your drunk little brain so overwhelmed by how good his fingers feel, how deep they reach, already curling to press against that soft, spongy spot inside you.

"Always so fuckin' tight," Jason mutters, thumb circling your clit as his fingers fuck into you, slow and deliberate.

You nod frantically, too far gone to do anything else, all your focus narrowed down to the way his fingers stretch and fill you, the slick sound of it obscene in the quiet alley.

"Think you can behave if I fuck you right here?" he asks, lips brushing your ear, fingers never slowing. "Or are you gonna be a noisy little brat and get us caught?"

Jason's fingers work your cunt like it's his job, those thick digits scissoring inside you, spreading you wide, your walls clenching down hard every time he drags them out only to push them back in knuckle-deep.

You're soaked, dripping all over his hand, slick and messy and obscene, and he fucking loves it. Loves the way you always need a little stretching, loves how no matter how many times he's fucked this pussy, you still go all tight and greedy on him like you're brand new every single time.

His thumb circles your clit, slow and deliberate, just enough to keep you right on the edge of frustration, never quite enough to let you fall over, and you whine, a long, high-pitched sound that makes him smirk.

"Jay," you slur, lips dragging over his jaw, sticky and soft, your fingers clawing at his back through his shirt, hips squirming helplessly against his hand. "Want your dick, baby, please."

"Shhh," Jason hums against your mouth, voice rough, fingers still fucking into you, that relentless rhythm making your thighs shake. "I've got you, baby. Let me make you cum first, yeah? Can't have you all tight and needy like this. You'll hurt yourself tryin' to take me."

"Don't care," you pout, sucking a mark into his neck, messy and wet, your tongue flicking over the spot before you nip at it, making him grunt softly. "Wanna be full, Jay, wanna feel you stretch me out, wanna feel you fuck me so deep, baby, please—"

"Jesus," Jason mutters, but there's no heat to it, just low, throaty amusement, like he can't believe how fucking desperate you get when you're drunk and horny like this.

He shifts his hand, fingers crooking inside you just right, dragging over that spot that makes you jolt, and you whimper, thighs clenching around his waist.

"Look at you," he breathes, eyes dark and hooded as he watches your face twist in pleasure, mouth all pouty and glossy, cheeks flushed, hair sticking to your temples from how hot you've gotten. "So fucking pretty when you're like this, baby. All fucked out and desperate for me."

"Because I love you," you slur, fingers fisting in his hair, tugging him down into a kiss that's all tongue and teeth, messy and clumsy and so fucking hot he groans into it. "Love your dick, love your hands, love your stupid face—"

Jason swallows your rambling with another kiss, his fingers never stopping, his thumb rubbing tight, fast circles over your clit until you're trembling, back arching, your whole body pressing into his like you're trying to crawl inside his skin.

"C'mon, baby," he whispers against your lips, voice low and dark and sweet like sin. "Cum for me. Make a mess all over my fingers, show me how bad you want me."

You sob—a high, helpless sound—as your cunt clenches down hard, your orgasm hitting you like a fucking freight train, your hips stuttering against his hand, slick gushing over his fingers and dripping down to his wrist.

"Good girl," Jason praises, kissing you through it, swallowing every little moan and whimper as his fingers keep pumping, working you through the aftershocks until you're twitching, trying to squirm away from the overstimulation.

"Too much," you mumble, slurring against his mouth, but he just hums, grinning against your lips.

"Fuck," Jason mutters, pulling his fingers from your spent pussy, shiny and dripping, your slick coating his knuckles and glistening under the dim alley light. He holds his hand up, spreading his fingers just to watch the strings of your arousal stretch between them, his lip curling into a dark little smirk. "Look at this messy little pussy, baby. You really are my perfect fuckin' girl, aren't you?"

You whimper, squirming against the wall, thighs trembling where they wrap around his waist, and Jason's grin only widens. "Can't get enough of me, can you? Drippin' just from my fingers. Fuck, baby, I'm gonna ruin you."

"Please," you mumble, words all breathless and slurred, your glossy eyes locked on his mouth like you're starving for him. "Kiss me, Jay."

He doesn't need to be told twice. His mouth crashes into yours, hot and hungry, all tongue and teeth and filthy little moans that make your head spin. You taste like your cocktails and him, and you drink down his groans like they're your favorite liquor, your fingers threading into his hair, tugging hard just to feel him grunt against your tongue.

His kiss is messy, wet, his teeth catching your bottom lip, tugging until you whine before soothing the sting with his tongue. His hand stays firm on your ass, keeping you pinned, while his other works at his belt with practiced ease, the jingle making your pussy clench down hard around nothing. Your thighs squeeze his waist, your needy body rocking against him like you're trying to catch his dick the second it's free.

"Desperate," Jason teases, voice thick with amusement, but his own breath stutters when his jeans finally slide down just enough to let his dick spring free, hot and heavy, the flushed tip already smeared with precum.

He grunts softly as he fists himself, dragging his slick thumb over the head before he ruts against your messy cunt, grinding his cock between your folds until his length is coated in your slick, sliding so easily against your soaked, swollen clit.

"Baby," you moan, head lolling back against the brick, your eyes going half-lidded, all glassy and drunk on him. "Want you so bad. Please, Jay."

"Fuck, you're so needy," he groans, angling his hips just right so the thick head of his cock notches at your entrance, pushing in just a little, stretching you open slow. "Always so tight for me, baby. So fuckin' perfect."

You whimper, hands scrabbling at his shoulders, his back, his neck, anywhere you can hold onto as he starts to push deeper, the stretch making your mouth drop open, your eyes going wide as your cunt struggles to take him, even as slick as you are.

"Every time," Jason mutters, almost to himself, watching your face, your body, your perfect pussy swallowing him inch by inch. "Every fuckin' time this pussy fights me at first. Like you forget how big my dick is until I'm stuffin' you full again."

He doesn't even bother bottoming out at first, just fucking into you shallow and rough, enough to make your body bounce against the wall, enough to make you cry out soft and sweet with every thrust.

"Jay—" you whimper, too loud, but he slaps a big hand over your mouth, muffling you, his own jaw tight as he glares down at you.

"We're still in public, baby," he growls, punctuating his words with a particularly harsh thrust, finally bottoming out in one stroke that makes your eyes roll back. "Behave. I don't wanna spend the night in jail 'cause my girl couldn't keep her pretty mouth shut."

You whimper against his palm, nodding hard, eyes still wide and glassy, and he kisses your forehead like you're not split open on his dick in the middle of a fucking alley.

"That's my good girl," he purrs, letting his hand slide down to grip your waist, both hands anchoring you now as he starts to move.

And fuck, he moves, lifting you up like you weigh nothing, only to slam you back down onto his cock, impaling you over and over, your messy little cunt squelching loud and obscene every time he bottoms out. Your slick coats his dick, smearing down his thighs, dripping onto the pavement, and he's fucking feral for it, teeth gritted, sweat beading at his temples from how tight you are.

"Fuck, baby, this pussy's made for me," he groans, his grip bruising at your hips, his cock grinding so deep you swear you can feel him in your throat. "So fuckin' tight—so wet for me. Look at you, baby, takin' me so good. My perfect little slut."

"Yours," you slur, hands scrabbling at his shoulders, your head dropping back against the wall, throat exposed and begging for his mouth. "Love your dick, Jay. Love you. Love you so much."

"Love you too, baby," he grunts, barely coherent as your walls flutter around him, your cunt sucking him in so tight he can barely pull back without you chasing him. "Love this messy little pussy. Gonna fuck you stupid right here, doll. Gonna make you cum on my dick, and then I'm gonna stuff you full of cum. Even if it gets me arrested."

The words shoot straight to your core, making your pussy clamp down around him so sweet and snug that Jason has to grit his teeth, his hips stuttering just for a second as heat flashes down his spine.

"Fuck—just like that, baby," he breathes, voice low, vibrating against your neck. "Keep squeezin' me like that, doll, you're gonna milk me dry."

The sound of your cunt taking him is fucking obscene, a slick, messy squelch every time he pulls out, followed by a wet, filthy slap as he fucks back in, balls-deep. It echoes off the brick walls, mixing with his ragged grunts and your soft, breathless moans, and it's so fucking dirty it makes his cock twitch inside you.

His hands cup your ass, those big, strong hands lifting and spreading you, kneading your soft flesh as he works you up and down his cock like you're weightless, his fingers sinking deep enough to leave bruises tomorrow.

The sweet scent of your arousal fills his nose, thick and heady in the cool night air, and Jason can't help himself. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, inhaling deep like he's getting high off the smell of your pussy.

"Always so fuckin' sweet for me," he murmurs against your skin.

His tongue flicks out to taste the sweat beading there before he sucks at your neck, hard and messy, leaving dark bruises like a brand. He soothes the sting with his tongue, a lazy, possessive stroke that makes you whimper and tighten your grip in his hair, tugging at the strands like you're trying to keep him exactly where he is.

He doesn't give a fuck if you pull every single strand out, doesn't give a shit if you ruin his scalp, because all that matters is the way your pussy feels. So fucking soft, so hot, clenching around him like you were made to take his dick. His thighs burn from the angle, his back sticky under his shirt, but none of it registers because all he can think about is how fucking good you feel, how perfectly you fit around him.

Jason knows, deep down, that this is fucking insane. He's not supposed to be fucking you in an alley in Bristol. Usually, he's the one talking you down when you're drunk and horny, steering you home with that cocky little grin, promising to fuck you into the mattress the second you walk through the door. But tonight, reason flew out the window the second you dragged him into the shadows, panties already soaked, begging for his dick like a needy little slut.

And fuck, how's he supposed to resist you when you look at him like that? When you sound like this? All soft, breathless little moans, spilling past your kiss-swollen lips as you clutch at him like you'll die if he stops? When your body trembles in his hands, your slick running down his balls, every ragged little breath carrying his name?

"Jason," you whisper, so soft and sweet it fucking kills him, your voice all wrecked from the way he's been fucking you open. "So big, baby. Feels so good."

"Yeah?" His voice drops, rough and husky, fingers digging into your ass just a little harder as he fucks you deeper, cock grinding against that soft spot inside you that makes you tremble all over. "This dick's yours, doll. Made to stretch this sweet little pussy. You're perfect, baby—fuck, you're perfect for me."

Your nails rake down his back, short little scrapes through his shirt that make his abs flex, and Jason growls low in his throat, biting at your neck, at your shoulder, anywhere he can sink his teeth into.

"So good, doll. So fuckin' tight. My messy little slut, all drunk and desperate for my dick. Gonna fuck you until you can't even stand, baby."

Your walls pulse around him like you're already close, your breath hitching in soft, uneven moans, and Jason groans against your skin, fucking you harder, faster, losing any semblance of control. His hips slap against yours, your slick painting his skin, his cock so soaked it glides into you with filthy ease.

"C'mon, doll," he whispers against your ear, voice dark and sweet, dripping filth like honey. "Be my good girl and cum for me, yeah? Let me feel you soak my dick. Let me ruin this pretty little pussy."

Jason's grip shifts, just slightly, and the angle hits different—deeper, somehow rougher, but the real kicker is how his hips grind up against your clit every time he bottoms out, his skin rubbing over that swollen little bundle of nerves.

It's not even intentional at first, just the natural press of his body against yours in this position, but once he hears the choked little moan you make, he fucking locks onto it like a bloodhound, making sure to grind against you every time his cock stretches you open.

Your head falls back, clunking lightly against the brick, legs tightening around his waist, pulling him in closer, deeper. "Gonna cum," you gasp, voice thin, whiny and so fucking needy Jason feels his cock twitch inside you. "Jay—gonna cum, baby, please—"

"Yeah, you are," he rasps, kissing you quick and filthy, all tongue and teeth, biting at your lower lip before pulling back to look at you, all fucked-out and perfect. "Cum on my dick, baby. Make a mess all over me."

His thrusts turn deep and shallow, grinding against your clit with every stroke, the fat head of his cock dragging over that sweet little spot inside you until your legs start to shake. Your whole body tenses, back arching off the wall as your cunt pulses around him, gushing so hard it drips down his cock, slicking up his thighs and the inside of yours, messy and obscene and so fucking good.

"OhmyfuckingGod," you gasp, the words running together into a high-pitched moan, your body trembling in his hands.

You're loud—too loud—and Jason clamps his hand over your mouth again, shushing you in that low, dangerous tone that always makes your cunt clench.

"Shhh, doll. You wanna get us caught?" he murmurs, right against your ear. "I'll stop. I fuckin' will. I'll pull out and leave you drippin', you keep bein' so fuckin' loud."

You shake your head wildly, wide, desperate eyes looking up at him, your hands clutching at his shoulders like your life depends on it. You can't stop now, you need his cum, need him to fuck it into you so deep it sticks, so deep you feel him for days.

Jason knows. Of course he knows. Knows how much you love it when he pumps you full, knows how fucked-out and blissed you get when you feel him leak out of you, warm and thick and messy.

He's just about to give you what you want when—

The flash of red and blue lights paints the alley in sharp neon. You both freeze.

Jason's heart fucking stops, then kicks up so hard he can feel it in his teeth, every muscle in his body going taut like a wire ready to snap. Your eyes go wide, mouth opening in a silent gasp, fingers digging into his back hard enough to leave crescent marks through his shirt.

"Shhh, baby," he whispers again, this time more soothing than stern, his hand smoothing over your hip like that's gonna calm either of you down. "If you're quiet, they're not even gonna know we're here."

You nod fast, lip caught between your teeth, eyes darting to the mouth of the alley where the cop car slows, brake lights flaring red through the shadows.

Jason's heart pounds, his cock still buried balls-deep in your cunt, and this might actually be the stupidest, most reckless shit he's ever done—which is really saying something, considering his track record.

The car idles there for a beat too long, and you start to panic for real, breath coming too fast, your fingers clutching at him, but Jason dips down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his voice low and calm.

"Hey. It's okay, baby. They're just bored. Ain't got shit to do out here. They'll move."

And they do, after what feels like a fucking lifetime, the car finally rolls past the alley, the glow of the lights fading into the night.

"See, baby? Told you. We're good."

He grins, kissing you again, slow and sweet at first, until you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him deeper, the kiss turning sloppy and filthy all over again. Tongues sliding together, your moans humming right into his mouth, his cock twitching inside you.

"Now," Jason mutters between kisses, "where the fuck were we?"

He starts moving again, lifting you in his arms like you weigh nothing, slamming you back down onto his cock, the force of it making your whole body bounce, your slick cunt taking him so easy now after you came all over him.

Jason fucks you hard, not fast, not hurried, but with deep, brutal strokes, splitting you open every time, grinding against your clit at the end of each thrust until your breath stutters and your eyes flutter shut, head lolling back against the wall.

"Fuck, baby," Jason groans, forehead pressed to yours, his breath ragged, hands locked around your waist, holding you tight like you might slip through his fingers. "You're so fuckin' tight. You feel that, doll? Feel how perfect this little pussy fits around my dick?"

You moan, soft and breathless, nails raking down his back, and Jason fucking loves it. Loves how wild you get for him, how no matter how many times he's fucked you, you're still so damn tight around him.

"Love this pussy, baby," he mutters, voice thick and low, "love ruinin' you. My messy little slut, all drunk and dripping for me. Fuckin' perfect."

He can't stop kissing you, can't stop tasting your lips, your tongue, the little whimpers you feed him between kisses, his hips never slowing, driving into you over and over, fucking you so deep you swear you can feel him in your throat.

He knows you need to get the fuck out of here before the cops come back, before some nosey old lady comes out of that wine bar and catches you. But your pussy's too good, too sweet and snug, and if he doesn't cum soon, he might actually lose his mind.

Jason's pace shifts—rougher now, driven by that primal need to fill you up, to mark you inside and out, to make sure no one could even think about touching you after this. His thrusts slam into you with brutal precision, the thick length of his cock dragging along every slick, swollen inch of your cunt, stretching you wide around him, splitting you open over and over until your pussy feels raw and tender and so fucking full it's like you can't take a breath without feeling him buried deep inside you.

He knows you can feel every vein, every ridge, the blunt head of his cock grinding right against your cervix, and fuck, you're so wet. You're dripping all over him: down his thighs, pooling between you, every thrust making a filthy squelch echo down the alley. If anyone walked past right now, there wouldn't be a doubt what's happening here.

Not with the way your slick coats his cock, makes every thrust slippery and obscene, not with the way your breathy little moans hitch every time he bottoms out, not with the way his hips slap against yours, skin sticky with sweat and arousal.

Your thoughts are a fucking mess, the only things running through your drunk, fucked-out brain are Jason, dick, cum, more. You can't think past the way his cock stretches you, how perfect it feels to be pinned up like this, taken apart by him like you're nothing but a toy, his strong arms the only thing keeping you up. You swear you can feel him everywhere, like he's inside your bones, like the next time you take a step you'll still feel the heavy weight of him between your legs.

He kisses you again, messy and desperate, tongues sliding together, teeth clashing, spit slicking up your chin, but neither of you give a fuck. Your fingers knot in his hair, tugging hard enough to make him grunt into your mouth, and he swears he could cum from just this. From the taste of you, the feel of your cunt pulsing around him, the soft little whimpers you spill into his mouth every time his cock hits that sweet spot.

"Fuck, baby," he rasps, forehead pressed to yours, sweat beading at his temple, "this pussy's so fuckin' messy. So fuckin' tight. Can barely move, you're clenching so hard. You gonna cum again for me, doll? Gonna make a mess all over my dick?"

You nod, whining, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes because it's too much—too good, too deep, too full—but you don't want him to stop. "Please, Jay, wanna cum with you, wanna feel you fill me up."

"Yeah?" His thrusts speed up, hips snapping into you hard and fast, dragging you down onto him like a ragdoll. "Wanna feel me cum inside this needy little pussy? Stuff you so full it leaks out of you? You fuckin' love it, don't you?"

You whimper, nails biting into his skin, legs tightening around his waist, and you're so fucking close, right on the edge, your whole body buzzing, heat coiling low in your belly, until one perfect grind of his cock against your clit sends you over, your cunt fluttering around him, sucking him in so deep.

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod," you chant, head falling back against the wall, eyes rolling back, body shaking in his grip as you gush all over him, slick dripping down his cock, onto the pavement, messy and obscene.

"Fuck—there you go, baby. Fuckin' soak me," Jason groans, his rhythm stuttering, hips jerking, grip bruising around your waist. "That's my good fuckin' girl."

And then he's right behind you, cock throbbing, thick ropes of cum spilling into you, hot and heavy, pumping against your cervix until you can feel it everywhere, until you swear it's gonna leak out of your mouth.

His head drops to your shoulder, mouth open against your skin, breath ragged as his hips keep moving, slow, deep thrusts fucking his cum deeper into you, even though it's already dripping down his dick, slicking up your inner thighs.

But he's not done—not yet.

You barely catch your breath before he starts moving again, overstimulated and tender, but his dick's still hard, still hungry, and he loves you like this. Drunk on him, too dumb to think about anything except the way he fills you up, the way he uses you like his personal fucktoy.

"Jason," you slur, clinging to him, nails digging into his scalp, his back, anywhere you can reach, "too much—too much—"

"You can take it, baby," he purrs, kissing you again, softer now, but still deep, still filthy. "Know you can take it for me. One more, yeah? Be my good girl."

And fuck, of course you're his good girl. Of course you'll give him one more.

He pounds into you harder, faster, sloppy and desperate, the sound of skin on skin mixing with the wet squelch of your cunt, the sweet scent of your arousal thick in the air, his nose buried in your neck, sucking messy bruises into your skin as his fingers grip your ass, kneading and spreading you, watching the way his cock disappears inside you over and over again.

Your thoughts are gone, totally fucked out, only able to focus on the way he fills you, the way his cum squelches out around his cock every time he thrusts back in.

And Jason? Jason's fucking feral, eyes locked on the sight of his cock splitting you open, cunt so swollen and puffy, all slicked up with both of you, and all he can think about is how fucking perfect you are.

"Look at you, baby," he whispers, voice low and reverent, fingers sliding between your bodies to rub your clit, even though you're already so sensitive you're trembling. "My perfect little pussy. Made to take me. Made to get fucked dumb, stuffed full of my cum. My sweet girl."

And that's all it takes, one more twist of his fingers, one more deep thrust, and you're cumming again, body jerking in his hands, cunt milking him for every last drop.

Jason kisses you through it, drinking down your whimpers, your soft little cries, soothing you with his tongue even as his hips finally slow, his cock still thick and heavy inside you, keeping every messy drop right where it belongs.

"Good girl," he breathes against your lips, forehead resting against yours, hands smoothing over your hips, "my perfect, messy girl."

Your body is deadweight in his arms, completely boneless and blissed out, every limb heavy with exhaustion and the sweet, drugged haze of post-fuck bliss. You're still trembling, but not just from the aftershocks. The cool night air prickles at your exposed skin, goosebumps pebbling over your arms, your thighs, the still-damp mess between your legs.

Jason feels it immediately, the way your soft, bare skin shivers against his, and it sends a twist of guilt through his gut—fucking you into a fucking alley like some horny teenager. But truth be told, it was your idea.

But before he can even say anything, your hands cup his face, small fingers curled around the rough edges of his jaw, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones, and you kiss him. It's slow this time—messy, sure, still tasting like beer and sweat and something sweet that's all you—but it lingers, softer, deeper, your tongue curling into his mouth, tracing along his teeth, savoring him like you need to commit the taste of him to memory.

You're still trembling, but the heat between your bodies eases it just a little, your fingers combing through his damp hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp as you melt into him, the kiss lasting long enough that his dick gives a lazy twitch inside you again, still hard even after he just filled you to the brim.

Finally, you pull back, lips red and swollen, your face glowing with the kind of fucked-out bliss that makes his chest ache with pride.

He smirks down at you, brushing a strand of hair off your face as he mutters, "You're fuckin' insane, pretty girl."

You giggle, that sweet little drunken giggle that makes his cock twitch again, and your head tilts back against the wall. "I thought I was gonna die without your dick, baby."

He groans, shaking his head, but there's no real exasperation there, just affection under the rasp of his voice. "Yeah, like I said. Fuckin' insane."

But you're already nuzzling into his neck, soft lips brushing his skin, your breath warm and sleepy against his throat. You smell like sweat and sex, all wrapped up in that sweet scent that's all you, and his arms tighten around you without thinking.

His lips press to the side of your head, lingering there as he murmurs, "C'mon, we need to get you home, yeah?"

You pout, face still buried in his neck. "Can't move. 'M tired. And cold."

"I know, baby," he soothes, one big hand rubbing slow circles on your back. "I know. I'll carry you."

You scoff weakly, lifting your head just enough to squint up at him. "We're far from home."

"So?" he shrugs, grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Don't act like you weigh a ton of fuckin' bricks."

You giggle again, arms going slack around his neck as you settle more comfortably into his hold, cheek squished against his shoulder. Jason's hands ease under your thighs, holding you up as gently as he can while he slowly pulls out, your slick warmth clinging to his cock, your messy cunt fluttering around nothing as his cum immediately starts to drip down.

You whimper softly at the loss, fingers curling into his shirt, but before you can complain, he's already reaching down, sliding your panties back up over your swollen cunt. Not to keep you modest—no, that ship sailed about four orgasms ago—but just to keep as much of his cum inside you as possible. He watches the way the lace darkens immediately, soaked through from the mess he made of you, and his cock twitches again in the cool air.

He sets you down carefully, but your knees buckle instantly, legs still shaking too hard to hold you up. "Jesus, baby," he chuckles, steadying you with one arm as he tucks his cock back into his jeans, adjusting them like he didn't just ruin you against an alley wall. "Gonna have to work on your stamina."

"Don't be mean," you pout, swaying a little as he smooths your skirt back down over your thighs, not that it covers much, but at least it's an attempt at decency.

Then he grabs his jacket from your shoulders, wrapping it around you properly this time, tugging your arms through the sleeves before zipping it all the way up. It's way too big, swallowing your smaller frame whole, and the sight makes him laugh. Your fucked-out face peeks up at him from inside the oversized jacket, makeup smeared, mascara smudged under your eyes, lips still swollen and shiny with spit and his kisses.

You pout harder at his laugh, but it only makes him grin wider. "Shut up."

"Never," he says, scooping you back into his arms like you weigh nothing at all. You try to protest weakly, but he shushes you, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Just let me take care of you, baby. Bet those pretty little feet already hurt in those heels."

And you can't even argue because he's fucking right, and honestly? Being carried sounds pretty nice right now.

Jason's grip adjusts as he walks, arms cradling you tighter to his chest, your body boneless and pliant in his hold. You're so out of it, head resting against his shoulder, lips slightly parted, soft breath warming his skin every few seconds. His jacket drowns you, the sleeves hanging past your hands, and he can feel the damp heat between your thighs seeping into the fabric where you're curled against him.

You're a mess, hair sticking to your forehead, skin sticky with sweat, makeup smudged in every direction, and his cum still leaking slowly down your thigh, leaving shiny streaks against your skin. But fuck if you aren't the prettiest thing he's ever seen.

He carries you easily, years of strength training making your weight feel like nothing. His feet move on autopilot, familiar with the route home, but his mind? That's a fucking mess.

Because Jason Todd doesn't do this. Doesn't fuck his girl drunk in a dirty alley with the risk of cops busting them. He's the one who's usually dragging your ass home before you get yourself into trouble, lecturing you about safety, tucking you into bed with water and painkillers. But tonight?

Tonight you begged so sweetly, moaned so filthy, kissed him so needy that all his common sense evaporated. And now he's here, hauling your wrecked body home, knowing you're gonna be sore as hell tomorrow—all his fault. And he can't even bring himself to regret it.

The door creaks softly when he shoulders it open, the apartment dim and quiet, and by the time he crosses the threshold, you're completely asleep against him. Your breath is soft and steady, face smushed into his neck, lips still a little wet from those sloppy kisses you couldn't stop giving him.

He sighs, kissing the top of your head before carrying you straight to the bathroom, flicking the light on with his elbow. The bright light makes you stir, a soft whimper leaving your throat, but you don't wake until he starts peppering little kisses across your face. Your nose first, then your forehead, then your cheeks, until your lashes flutter, and you blink up at him, all confused and sleepy and perfect.

"We're home, baby," he murmurs, voice soft.

You look around, eyes squinting at the light, brow furrowing as you take in the bathroom. "Huh?"

It's so adorably confused, so genuine, that Jason can't help but laugh.

"Yeah, doll," he grins, setting you down on wobbly feet. "We made it."

You sway a little, legs still weak, and he steadies you with one hand while the other shrugs his jacket off your shoulders, tossing it over the counter. Then he sinks to his knees, big hands cupping your ankles as he carefully unbuckles your heels, sliding them off one by one.

His palms rub over your skin, easing the ache, and he leans in to press a kiss to your calf before standing again. "Feet hurt?"

You nod sleepily, arms looping lazily around his neck, and he smiles. "Told you."

He gets the water running, warm but not too hot, and undresses you like you're made of glass, peeling the sweat-damp top and skirt from your skin, sliding your panties down those shaky legs, until you're bare and glowing under the bright bathroom light.

His own clothes come off fast, jeans and t-shirt kicked into the corner, and then he's guiding you under the spray, his big body crowding in behind you, keeping you steady.

You whine, soft and pitiful, as the water hits your oversensitive skin. "So tired," you mumble, cheek pressed to his chest.

"I know, baby," he soothes, hands moving quickly—gentle but efficient, washing away your makeup, the sweat and cum and alley grime, fingers gliding between your legs, over your thighs, along your back.

Every protest, every sleepy complaint, gets kissed away—a kiss to your shoulder, your temple, your lips. By the time he's rinsed you off, you're barely awake, your body slumping against him as he wraps you in a towel and carries you straight to bed.

You hit the mattress face-first, towel half hanging off, and you're out like a light in under five seconds.

Jason watches you for a second, shaking his head with a fond smile. "Hopeless."

He tries—he really does—to dress you at least in one of his shirts, but you don't even budge, and honestly? If you wanna sleep naked, who the fuck is he to stop you? Less work for him in the morning. He tosses the towels back into the bathroom, pulls on a pair of boxers, and slides into bed beside you.

The second his body heat hits you, you roll into him, face pressed to his chest, soft thigh hitching over his hip like you can't stand to have any space between you. His arm curls around your waist automatically, palm sliding up the curve of your ass, along your back, tracing lazy patterns across your bare skin.

He's still thinking about you, about tonight, about how the fuck you've got him wrapped around your little finger so tightly that one pout can ruin every ounce of self-control he's got. And it should piss him off. Should make him wanna teach you a lesson. But instead, it just makes him want to ruin you again, until you forget your own fucking name.

"Insane," he mutters into your hair, mouth curling into a grin.

But you're his insane, and that's all that fucking matters.

[nekonaps0]

You are NAUGHTY!! Pt2

✦part1 part3

✦ characters: second years

✦ gn!reader

✦ dirty jokes

✦ their partner suddenly cracked a naughty, suggestive joke

Riddle Rosehearts

“So… if I break any more rules, does that mean I’ll have to ‘bend over’ for punishment~?”

Riddle chokes.

No, really he stumbles mid-sentence, goes cherry red, and tries desperately to pretend he didn’t hear what you just said.

“W-What?! H-How dare you say something so inappropriate! That is—That is not at all—!”


He’s absolutely flustered.

His hands flap, his ears are glowing, and he sputters out a million rules that don’t help anything. But behind all the outrage, he’s secretly dying inside.

Later, when he’s alone? He remembers it, turns bright red, and buries his face in a pillow screaming silently.

Reggie Bucchi

“Ruggie, if I were dessert, would you eat me before dinner or save me for a midnight snack?”

Dead.

He laughs so hard he snorts.

“Wh—Pfft—Whaaat?! Are you tryna kill me here?!”

He drops his snack, clutching his stomach, cackling and red-faced. But once he recovers, his grin turns wicked.

“Midnight snack, huh? Guess I’ll just have to find out if you taste as good as you sound~”

Oh, he's cocky now. You're in trouble.

Azul Ashengrotto

“Azul, your are a octopus right? 'Cause you’ve got the perfect grip to wrap around me at night~”

Azul.exe has stopped responding.

He blinks. Coughs. Adjusts his glasses twice. You can see his mental calculator exploding behind his eyes.

“T-That’s… rather inappropriate—! Not that I… I mean, I would never… Unless you…!”

He wants to flirt back but doesn’t trust himself not to say something even worse. He hides behind his businesslike demeanor, though his whole face flaming red.

Later, when he’s more composed?

“I may be skilled with contracts, but I’d never entrap you. Unless… you asked for it.”

And then he winks. And he avoids you after how embarrassed he got after saying that. But he learned!

Jade Leech

“Jade, you’re already so good with your hands in potion class... I’d love to see what else you can stir up.”

He turns to you slowly, a sharp smile curling his lips. Eyes half-lidded. Head tilting slightly in mock innocence.

“What a fascinating observation… Shall I conduct a hands-on experiment with you as my subject?”

He says it so calmly that it sends shivers down your spine. You started the fire, and now he’s feeding it.

He doesn’t stop there. He’ll keep dropping quiet little whispers, brushing your shoulder “accidentally,” leaning down too close until you’re the one flustered.

Floyd Leech

“Floyd, if you squeeze me like that again, I might start getting ideas you’ll need to follow through on~”

His eyes light up like someone handed him a brand new toy.

“Eeeeeeh~? Shrimpy wants me to squeeze more? Don’t tempt me~ I’ll squish you all night long~!”

Floyd goes feral. He’s laughing, chasing you around the room, tackling you into a squish-hug and whispering more outrageous things in your ear.

He loves that you flirted like that and now he’s unhinged.

“Say it again, Shrimpy~ Don’t be shy now. I like this game!”

You unleashed him… Good luck.

Kalim Al-Asim

“Kalim, with how energetic you are, I bet you’d be amazing at cardio. Wanna test that theory… horizontally?”

“Cardio? Like training? Sure—wait… horizontally?!”

Cue bright-red face and an audible GASP.

He’s slow to realize it’s a naughty joke, but once he does?

“Oh... OH! THAT KIND OF JOKE!! A-Ahahaha! Y/N!!! That’s—!!”

He covers his mouth, blushes from ear to ear, and probably trips over a chair trying to hide.

He’s too innocent to say anything back but he can’t stop thinking about it later, giggling to himself.

“Cardio… haha...”

Bad? You’re hilarious. And he’s flustered for the rest of the day.

Jamil Viper

“Jamil, if you’re gonna keep calling me ‘troublesome,’ maybe I should earn the title in your bed.”

He freezes like a statue. Blinks. Swallows hard.

“...What did you just say?”

His voice is calm. Too calm. He runs a hand through his hair and breathes out through his nose like he's trying to keep it together.

“Stop playing with me.”

His face turns red. But the eye contact? Intense. Dangerous.

“Keep saying things like that, and I won’t be responsible for what happens after.”

He's rattled. Turned on. Trying not to show it. You’ve absolutely succeeded in knocking him off-balance.

Silver

“Silver, I wouldn’t mind waking you up every morning… maybe even with a few… special techniques.”

He pauses.

Stares.

Blushes.

Then immediately pretends he didn’t hear that.

“...I see. Thank you for the offer.”

But you notice the way he won’t meet your eyes and how his hand trembles just a little. He’s red. He’s quietly combusting.

Later, when you least expect it?

“...About what you said earlier. About the demonstrating...”

Hehe~

..............................................................................................................................

[dolcecherub]

so close, so cruel⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

✧ pairing: oscar piastri x virgin!fem reader

✧ tags: virgin reader, lotssss of teasing, oscar is kind of a menace, first time, oscar begs, aftercare, dirty talk, established relationship, thigh fuck!!, sex, pnv, unprotected sex

✧ yap: honestly haven't written smut in a bit so i hope this is enjoyable and good but i neeeeddeddd to write an oscar that begs to fuck so yeah! i hope y'all enjoy and please ignore any mistakes it's currently 3:25am lol

✧ word count: 6.2k

It started with a simple hand on your thigh.

Innocent, technically. You were curled up together on the hotel bed, lights dimmed aside from the table lamp, some half-forgotten Netflix show playing in the background. Oscar had his usual calm about him, an arm slung around your shoulder, the other tracing idle patterns along the bare skin on your thigh. Every movement left a trail of fire in its wake.

You weren’t naive, you knew exactly what he was doing. Oscar had a way of teasing that never felt overly dirty, but it always lingered, always left you feeling flushed, thighs pressed together. Words that didn’t cross a line, but danced right on the edge. 

“You’re tense,” he said, voice low against your ear. His fingers had started to move, inching higher up your thigh, tracing a lazy path from your knee up through the inside of your thigh, only to trail back down before they got too far. “Something on your mind?”

You swallowed hard, eyes returning to the TV, attempting to focus again on the show. “No.”

He grinned like he didn’t believe you.

That was the thing with Oscar. He didn’t push, but he loved to see how close he could get before you’d squirm. And you always did, not because you didn’t want it, god no, but because you were still figuring this all out. You hadn’t been with anyone before him, at least not like this, and he knew that. And oh, was he so respectful about it.

Still, that didn’t mean he wasn’t a menace. 

“You sure?” His head leaned down closer to you, breath skimming your neck, hand dipping just a little higher. Just enough to make your heart stutter. 

You leaned into him instinctively, legs shifting against each other in the smallest, most telling motion, his smile widening against your skin as he placed a soft kiss against your neck. 

“Oscar,” you warned, voice barely above a whisper, tone falsely threatening 

“Hm?” He hummed innocently, nuzzling into your jaw, peppering light kisses, momentarily flicking his tongue across your skin. “I’m not doing anything.”

But he was, he always was. Maybe not always with his hands, but with the way he looked at you. Like he could see straight through every layer of hesitation, of nervousness, and he wanted to unravel it all, softly, slowly. 

He was patient, too patient, and somehow that only made the waiting worse. 

And hell if he stopped teasing you. 

-‘๑’-

You were making a quick coffee the next morning, setting up a cup for Oscar’s tea as well, wearing his t-shirt and nothing else. The sun poured in through the hotel blinds, warm and soft, casting long golden lines across the dull colours of the hotel room. You didn’t hear him pad out from the bathroom, now barefoot behind you, his arms circling your waist. 

“You always wear my shirts like that?” he murmured, voice husky with sleep, his head leaning down, his chin resting on your shoulder as he tucked his head into your neck.

“Like what?” You asked, stirring a pack of cream into your coffee.

“Like you’re asking for trouble.”

You rolled your eyes, flicking a pack of sugar before dumping that in as well. “It’s laundry day.” You excused.

Oscar chuckled against your neck, feeling the vibration of his chest against your back. “We’re in a hotel.”

“Exactly.”

He laughed again, quietly and knowing, his hand grazing the bare skin of your thigh under the hem of his shirt, lifting it daringly. Lingering. He was far taller than you, his body nearly caging yours from behind as he was bending down towards you. 

“You know,” he added, lips brushing just behind your ear now, your body shivering at his contact. “You could just say the word.”

You turned your head to get a better look at him, eyebrows raised slightly. “I thought you liked the anticipation.”

His mouth curled, “I love it, but don’t pretend it doesn’t drive you insane,” he teased, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek.

Touche.

-‘๑’-

Later, you lay in bed, reading on your Kindle while Oscar mindlessly scrolled his phone next to you, one hand absentmindedly resting on your lower back. He liked to keep in contact, just enough to keep your body aware of him. It didn’t help that now and then, his fingers would trace small paths, sometimes grabbing you a little tighter. Always random enough to throw you off.

“You’re quiet,” he said, without looking up.

“I’m reading something,” You mumbled, mind focused on the warmth of his hand on your back.

“You’re flushed,” He said, finally glancing over.

“No, I’m not-” 

He rolled over on top of you before you could finish, pushing your Kindle to the side, pinning you gently to the mattress, straddling your hips. “You think I don’t notice what I do to you?” He whispered, breath fanning your face as his eyes darkened. 

His fingers hooked into the bottom of your shirt, well, his shirt, and lifted it slightly. His hands roamed the skin of your waist, hands warm and rough. “I think you like it when I take my time, darling.”

You shivered underneath him, hands coming up to rest on his neck, lightly playing with his hair. His weight on you, the soft graze of his thumb along your stomach, left your body squirming. 

You exhaled shakily, “I hate you.” 

He smirked before leaning down to kiss you, his lips latching onto yours roughly. You let out a whimper. His teeth scraped against your bottom lip, tugging your lips open, his tongue slipping into your mouth hotly. His tongue swipes against yours as you whine, hands tugging his hair, Oscar groaning at the pull. 

He pulls his head back, lips glossy and cheeks flushed as he began trailing kisses down your neck, wet and sloppy, sometimes pausing to suck a light mark into your skin. 

“Osc,” You whimpered, tugging a little harder on his hair as he groaned, lips trailing lower, leaving a wet trail of kisses. 

Reaching his head back up, he placed a light kiss on your lips before tapping your hip. His eyes were blown with want, his lips upturned deviously. “Alright, time for bed.” He spoke, your body slightly relaxing from disappointment, a teasing smirk covering his face. 

You pouted at him, cheeks flushed bright red, lips bitten raw as he climbed off of you.

Calling him a tease was an understatement. 

-‘๑’-

The next evening, you were both running late, on the brink of missing a team dinner with the grid. Your hair was still half done, dress zipped halfway, the strap nearly sliding off your shoulder as you finished your makeup, face as close to the mirror as humanly possible, trying to get the best possible liner wing. 

Your mouth was slightly open, forming an ‘o’ as your hand shook a little. You saw Oscar come up behind you, his eyes looking at your reflection adoringly, a small smile stretching his face. You yelped quietly, feeling his hands grab the arch of your ass, rubbing over it a few times before resting one on your hip and the other still palming your ass. 

You could see your cheeks redden at the action, feeling Oscar’s hips press against your backside, his arousal pressing into you. His eyes darkened as you watched him behind you, his eyes stuck on the shape of your hips in the dress, entranced. 

You huffed out quietly, deciding the wing was the best it was going to get as you straightened up, pressing completely against Oscar as you put away your makeup. 

His knuckles brushed the bare skin your unzipped dress exposed, sending a shiver down your spine as you bit your lip. “Need help?” He asked, full well knowing you did.

“Please,” You requested, tone soft and nervous. He placed a gentle kiss on the back of your neck, trailing a few further down as his hand slipped up towards the strap, gently pushing it off your shoulder. His knuckles trailed lower, nearing your tailbone, then back up again. 

“I don’t know if I wanna zip it up,” He murmured, the strap of your dress sitting idly off your shoulder, threatening to fall completely. 

“Oscar,” You warned, tone stern, knowing you both had somewhere to be.

He chuckled lowly, the sound thrumming through your chest. “Okay, okay.”

The zipper slid up slowly, torturously. His lips brushed against your shoulder as he brought the strap back up. 

“You have no idea how hard you make it to behave,” he whispered, lips brushing against the back of your ear as you pushed your hips back against him, his hands tightening on you. 

You swallowed, “Maybe that’s my goal,”

His hands paused at your waist before he let you walk away.

Barely.

-‘๑’-

You woke the next morning to his fingers tracing your arm. You’d fallen asleep tangled together, as usual, limbs warm and overlapping in a way that made it impossible to tell where you ended and he began. 

“Do you ever think about it?” you asked softly, voice less than a mumble. 

Oscar’s finger paused. “Think about what, darling?”

You turned over to face him, your voice quiet, a little nervous. “Us, that night. You know, when it does happen.”

He blinked, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, “Every night.” 

Your breath caught.

“But I don’t imagine it for me,” He added. “I imagine it for you. What you’ll need, how to make it not scary, how to make you feel good, how to make you want it again, what I can do for you.”

That was the thing about Oscar. Sure he could be cocky and shameless all day, but when it came down to you, the real thing, his teasing quieted. 

He kissed your forehead lightly, “No rush, baby, I don’t mind. I’m ready whenever you are. I’ll wait.” He reassured.

You smiled, heart bursting, “Even if it drives you mad?” 

He grinned, a huff coming out lightly. “That’s the best part, darling.” 

-‘๑’-

Oscar had a sponsor event coming up, and of course, he had wanted you to be there. Your stylist had sent over a few options for you to try. 

Oscar insisted he help you decide, and so you found yourselves sitting in the quiet hotel room after a long media day, cycling through dress options that were best fit for the event. 

He watched intently, offering his opinions when he deemed necessary, ensuring he always complimented you regardless. 

You stepped out in a navy dress, tight, strapless, and fairly short, cinching your waist in essentially accentuating your hips. You couldn’t even make it to the mirror to look at yourself.

Oscar’s gaze snapped to you, eyes dragging across every inch of your frame. He sat up slowly, inching towards the edge of the bed, jaw clenched. “No.”

You blinked, a hand running across your body, smoothing any wrinkles. You gave a slight twirl, presenting your backside to Oscar, a small look over your shoulder catching his eyes staring. “No?”

“You can’t wear that.” 

You narrowed your eyes. “Why not?”

He stood up, walked over slowly, and circled behind you. “Because,” He murmured, mouth brushing your ear, “If you walk around in this, I’m going to get into a fight.”

You laughed, lighthearted, your head falling back slightly onto his chest. “You’re not the jealous type.” 

“Not usually,” he said, voice low, his hand sliding up your thigh towards the hem of the dress. “But right now I’m thinking about how easy it would be to slide this dress up.” He teased, his fingers pushing up the hem of your dress, dangerously close to exposing you. “Or off. No zippers, no buttons.’

You bit your lip.

He smirked. “What’s wrong, baby?”

You glared at him through the mirror, watching his hand roam your hips in the reflection. “I hate you,” you tried, your knees slightly wobbling when you said it. He tugged the edge of your dress, completely exposing you. His foot pushed your ankle, spreading your legs a little as your breath caught. 

“I don’t think you do, baby.” He said quietly, fingers grazing your inner thigh, seeing your arousal drip down slightly, his fingers catching it as he rubbed his fingers against your core teasingly. Your body shook, feeling his rough fingers spread your arousal. 

“You knew what you were doing. Knew I’d lose my mind the second I saw you in this, or that I’d want to ruin it, didn’t you?” He teased his finger teasing your entrance softly as he lightly fucked his fingers into you, your knees buckling, his arms around your waist being the only thing keeping you up. You whimpered, he was giving you enough to tease you, but not enough to actually feel good just yet. 

“Osc,” You whined out, body buckling from pleasure as he held you up, his fingers hitting a spot deep inside you.

“Take it so well, can’t wait to see how you fit me, baby.” He teased, quickening his pace, your stomach tightening. “Look at yourself.” He demanded, his other hand reaching up around to grab your throat, not so hard that it was painful, but enough to limit the air to your lungs, brain fogging at the intensity. 

You caught sight of yourself in the mirror, cheeks flushed red, eyes blown wide with need, tears brimming in them from pleasure. Your lips were parted, breathy and glossy. Oscar’s hand looked obscene around your neck, veins bulging as he tightened slightly. His eyes were dark, glazing over your body wantingly. 

The sounds of your arousal mixed with gasps and whines as Oscar continues mumbling sweet nothings encouragingly to you brought you closer to your release. His fingers slowed, teasing, pulling out before slowly fucking back into you, your mind dizzying at the stretch. 

“Oscar, please,” You begged, needing just a bit more. He chuckled from behind you, placing a soft kiss on the back of your head, his fingers plunging deeper, hitting exactly where you needed, a breathless moan escaping your throat as you crumbled. Your body clenched, writhing against Oscar, and he slowly eased his fingers out, a teasing pump making you whine.

You exhale a breath, body slumping as he circles his arms around you, pulling the dress down to cover you. “You did so well, darling.” He praised, kissing the top of your head, mumbling ‘I love you’s’ into your hair as you caught your breath. 

“Now you definitely can’t wear this dress or else I’m gonna spend all evening thinking about doing that,” He mumbled, placing one last gentle kiss against your head as he tapped your bum. You lightly slapped his arm jokingly, walking towards the bathroom to change back into your clothes for bed.

You heard Oscar chuckle behind you as he watched your legs tremble slightly from the aftermath of his actions. 

A menace. 

-‘๑’-

It had been a hectic day, lots of physical activities, and simply exploring the city with a few of the other drivers’ girlfriends. Tennis, a bike ride along the boardwalk and coast, a pretty hike and picnic, and my god, so many pictures. 

You had come back home to Oscar in the shower, the sound of water running mixed with the heat of the bathroom making the home feel cozier. After changing, your body needed a stretch to loosen all its muscles. You heard the shower turn off as you nearly flopped onto the floor in your bedroom. You laid out a few dynamic stretches, letting your body relax, sighs of relief leaving your mouth. You stood up, bending forward, your hands reaching for your toes, hamstrings burning at the pull. 

You closed your eyes, exhaling a deep breath as you heard the bathroom door open, footsteps padding closer. As you go to stand up, a hand steadies itself on your lower back, pushing your body back down as Oscar pushes against you. 

You immediately regretted the choice of stretch, vulnerable and exposed. He straddled your legs from behind, his other hand gripping your waist. 

“Need help?” He asked, far too innocently, for the way his hands were roaming your hips and his hips were pushing against you. 

“No,” You stuttered out quickly, unsuccessfully attempting to push yourself back up.

“Adjust your posture. Back straight, hips forward.” He instructed, his voice breathy. “Breathe, baby.”

You nearly died on the spot.

“I’m trying to stretch,” You muttered, muscles tensing up as your heart hammered against your chest.

“I’m helping,” He said, fingers splaying wide against your back. “This is very technical work.”

Momentarily, you ground your hips back into him, Oscar groaning at the movement. “You’re the worst.” You mumbled, a smile still evident in your tone.

“Correct,” He chuckles, “but look how deep you’re stretching now.” He spoke, his tone sultry with innuendos. 

You couldn’t even respond, just exhaling exasperatedly. He knew exactly what he was doing. 

He always did.

-‘๑’-

It was a particularly hot day this weekend in Miami. You were sitting on a curb outside the garage, licking a near-melting ice cream cone while Oscar stood next to you, sipping water. It was a few hours before free practice 2, his suit undone, sitting at his hips as his fireproof clung to his body. 

He watched you for a second too long.

“Baby,” He sighed, cheeks lightly flushed from the heat or the sight of you.

You looked up at him, eyes alight with energy.

“You can’t eat it like that.” He groaned, tone almost a warning. 

You blinked at him, taking another slow lick before asking, “Like what?”

He raised a brow, arms crossing against his chest. “You’re lingering, it’s obscene.”

You rolled your eyes, mind revelling at how easily you could also get him riled up. “It’s just ice cream.” 

He sat down, leaning in close to you, his voice low, meant for only the two of you. “It was ice cream. Now it’s a public indecency charge.”

You took an extra slow lick, simply to spite him, your eyes not leaving his. Oscar made a strangled noise, running a hand over his face and looking away. “You’re going to kill me.” He said, voice muffled by his hands.

“Good,” you said, smiling at him as if you hadn’t just made him hard. 

He reached a hand out, swiping a bit of melted ice cream from the corner of your mouth, slow and deliberate. His thumb dragged just enough to make your stomach drop a little, heart pounding. 

“You missed a spot.” He said, eyes heavy as he brought his thumb to his mouth, suckling the ice cream off, eyes glued to yours. 

Your breath hitched at the sight, his tongue swiping over the pad of his thumb momentarily. You didn’t speak for a full minute after that. 

-‘๑’-

You were sitting on the floor in front of a mirror, testing a few different hairstyles for fun. It had been a slower day, Oscar mostly out training for the day, as you stayed at home. He wandered in a bit later, shirtless, sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He leaned against the doorframe, simply admiring you as you fiddled with your hair. 

After a while, he walked over, squatting down behind you, placing a soft kiss on the back of your head. He twirled a finger through your hair before gathering it whole in his hands.

“So pretty like this,” He said softly, eyes meeting yours in the mirror. Then he leaned closer, voice warm against your ear. He tightened his hold, pulling your head back slightly as your breath hitched at the pull.

“D’you ever think about what I’d do if I had your hair in my hands like this for another reason, baby?” He asked, tone deep, vibrating through your chest as your heart pounded against your ribs. 

You nearly choked on your breath, cheeks flushing.

He just walked out, satisfied with himself at the red on your face.

-‘๑’-

The hotel room was quiet, the low hum of traffic and the soft rustling of bedsheets filling the room. You weren’t asleep, nor was he.

Oscar was lying on his side, one arm tucked neatly under his head, the other resting gently across your waist, a comforting weight. His mouth was warm against your neck, trailing slow, reverent kisses.

Your shirt had long since been pushed up, panties pushed aside as his hands roamed your body as if he couldn’t get enough. His hands were everywhere, on your hips, your thighs, the sides of your neck. He kissed you as though he was trying to keep it gentle, but you felt it, his control hanging on by a thread.

He pushed himself up and on top of you, his weight welcome and warming, as his lips found yours, tongue desperately swiping over yours as you whimpered, one hand scratching the back of his neck and the other trailing down his chest towards his waistband. 

His hips bucked forward, your fingers pulling down the waistband of his sweatpants, his cock springing up, flushed and aching as your hand pumped him. You spread your thighs a little, feeling Oscar nibble on your lip before smoothing it over with his tongue. Your hand trailed back up his abs, nails lightly scratching along his body as he groaned. 

His hips pressed forward, and you felt it, him. Hard against you, not inside, but nestled perfectly between your thighs, slightly coated in his arousal mixing with yours. The thin friction, skin on skin, made you gasp. He lifted his head from yours, eyes watching your face as he pushed his hips. 

You clenched your thighs, wanting to make Oscar feel good too as he moaned. This, by far, had been his favourite way to get both of you off without crossing any lines. He bucked his hips, groaning at the wet slide between your thighs.

He exhaled shakily, forehead pressing to yours, his eyes fluttering closed. “Fuck.” He let out breathily as you looked at him, wide-eyed and cheeks flushed. 

You arched into him, your hands gripping his shoulders, nails slightly digging into him as his name spilled from your lips. You felt his warmth slide against your core, body begging for him. 

He rocked slowly, getting used to feeling as you clenched a little tighter, his hips faltering a little. 

You nearly fell apart watching him stutter.

He shuffled back, sliding off his sweatpants and boxers, dropping them off the side of the bed as his hands stumbled to throw off your t-shirt. His hand gripped your thigh, pulling it higher to rest upon his waist as his hips moved again, slow and controlled, dragging the full weight of his want between your legs, watching your arousal coat him. 

He groaned, eyes locking with yours as he spoke, “You feel…” he whispered, teeth grazing your jaw. “So fucking soft, baby, unreal.” He continued, voice shaky with need. 

You moaned softly, back arching. It was overwhelming, but you craved it. Every press of his hips sent sparks ripping through your spine. Although he wasn’t inside, it felt like he was claiming every inch of you anyway.

“Fuck baby, please,” He begged, although you weren’t quite sure for what. “Please let me fuck you, please I-” He exhaled, his voice whiny as you moaned his name. “Need to fuck you.”

Your heart pounded, nails clawing up his back as his cock throbbed between your thighs, your arousal’s mixing messily. “Oscar…” 

“Please, you feel so-” he gasped, hips rutting into yours especially hard, “so warm, so fucking perfect.” 

His tip slid between your folds, catching at the entrance momentarily as it slid, you whimpered at the feeling. He placed a shaky kiss to your lips, shuddering at the feeling. 

You moaned softly, eyes blown wide with want as you watched Oscar huff with need. His mouth hovered over yours, hot breath spilling across your lips. “All I can think about is how good you’d feel around me.”

You whined softly, you were right there with him, burning up with need. 

He kissed you, hard and messy, full of want. He pulled back, his face looking as though he was breaking. 

“Please,” He breathed. “Let me fuck you,” He begged, his voice raw and torn. 

You stared up at him, breathless, heart pounding in time with his. 

“I want it,” You whispered, his eyes closing at the words, a low groan rumbling from his chest. He exhaled like he’d been holding that breath for months.

“Say it again,” He begged.

“I want you.” You whimpered.

He kissed you again, slow this time, like the desperation from before was folding into something deeper. He leaned his forehead against yours, one hand trailing down between your thighs, the other cupping your check like he was in awe of your words. 

His fingers slipped between your thighs, pumping lightly, your thighs dripping with arousal as his eyes caught sight. You groaned at the slight stretch, heart clenching with nerves. He  

“I’ve got you,” He reassured, noticing the worry on your face. His fingers curl, hitting a deep spot, body arching at the feeling before he slid them out. He spread the arousal across himself, pumping his cock a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. 

“You’re everything,” He spoke, tone soft as he pushed in. Just the tip, your breath hitched, and he did too. His mouth fell open, eyes squeezed shut like the sensation wrecked him instantly. The stretch was unreal, your body shuddering. 

“Shit,” he whispered, voice shaking. “You feel-” he groaned as you clenched around him. “Fuck, baby.”

He hadn’t moved yet, simply just held it there, letting you adjust, watching you carefully through blown pupils and clenched teeth, his tip pulsing inside you. 

“You okay?” he asked, brushing a soft thumb over your cheek. 

You nodded, words caught somewhere in your throat, “Yeah.” You let out breathily, eyes brimming lightly with tears. Oscar bent down, kissing your forehead then your nose, then your lips, soft, slow and grounding. “You’re doing so well,” he whispered. “Tell me if you need anything.” He spoke, gently and caring. 

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling his body closer as you curled your leg a bit tighter around his waist in response. 

That was all he needed.

He pressed in deeper, the stretch making your head spin as he slid in, inch by inch, until he was fully there. Oscar breaths landed heavy into your neck, one hand on your waist and the other gripping the sheet beside your head like it was the only thing keeping him together. 

“God,” he groaned, “You’re fucking soaked, dripping all over my cock.” He spoke, the words making your tummy turn. You were clinging to him, gasping softly, overwhelmed by how close he was, how he fit like he was meant to. You could hear the slick drag of him between your thighs. 

He rocked his hips gently, rolling in slow careful waves. Not hard, not fast. Just intentionally, every motion is a promise. You moaned softly, body arching up into his, matching the rhythm. 

“That’s it,” he whispered, kissing the corner of your mouth, “You’re okay. You’re perfect, so perfect, baby.” He reassured, his tone gentle with love.

You tighten your grip around his back, feeling his cock throb inside of you, vision blurring at the feeling of him pumping inside you. “Oscar, fuck.”

“I’ve got you,” he breathed again, one hand tangling in your hair, holding your forehead to his. “You’re mine baby, I’ve got you.” His words emphasized with a thrust.

“More,” You whimpered out brokenly. His thrusts quickened slightly, the sound of your arousal and skin slapping against each other fucking filthy in the air. 

Your head spun at the feeling of him, nails scratching along his back as he whispered sweet nothings. “Fuck you feel so good, you’re so tight.” He whined head falling to your shoulder as he fucked into you. “Gripping me like you were made for me.”

“You’ve fucking ruined me,” Oscar groans, hips rocking into you. He angles his hips, hitting a better angle as you whimper. You’re babbling at him, lips bitten raw as you look at him, eyes blown to filth. 

You clench around him, your body needing release. And fuck, Oscar nearly cums feeling you tighten around him. “Look at yourself, baby. Clenching around me like you’re fucking desperate for this, hm?” He teased, sitting up slightly as he fucked into you, watching your body rock up with each thrust. His hand reached up, thumb tweaking over your nipple as you whimpered.

He hissed through his teeth. “You feel that, baby? Right there?” He spoke, hand pressing down against your lower stomach, the pressure making your chest ache. You cry out, feeling his cock bulge inside you. You whimpered, nodding desperately.

He buried his face in your neck, breath hot and shaky. “You’re fucking melting around me. So wet-” He swore, voice shaking as he groaned. “I can feel everything.”

His hips snapped into you, rougher now, and the sounds it made, skin on skin, soaked and absolutely filthy, only made you clench harder. Oscar exhaled, grabbing your hips to keep you where he wanted you, his fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises. 

“You like it when I fuck you like this?” he growled, teeth dragging against your skin. “Like I can’t help myself?”

You moaned, arching beneath him, eyes fluttering shut. “Yes, fuck Osc, please.” He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes glassy and dark and completely undone. “Open your eyes, darling, look at me. I want to see your face when you come.” He demanded, your stomach churning at his tone. 

You did, barely able to keep your eyes open as he slammed into you, again and again, hitting that perfect spot, your tummy bulging at how fucking well he was filling you. Your body went tight, heat building until it snapped. 

You shattered under him with a strangled cry, legs trembling, your cunt clenching around him so hard it made him swear, loud and filthy. 

“Fuck, that’s it. That’s it, baby, just like that. You’re so fucking good”

You were still fluttering around him, overstimulated and gasping as Oscar’s thrust slowed slightly. His pace stuttered, hands flying to your thighs to hold you open as he drove in deeper. 

“Where- fuck, where do you want it?” he gasped, barely coherent. “Tell me where you want me, baby. I’m not gonna last, fuck, I’m so close.” He begged, his thrusts getting sloppier. 

You clenched impossibly tighter, a tear spilling from your eye as you whispered, “Inside, I wanna feel it.” you whimpered.

That broke him.

Oscar let out the filthiest sound you’d ever heard from him, a half groan, half moan, as he slammed into you one last time, burying himself deep, his whole body going rigid as he came with a choked moan against your mouth. 

You felt it. Every hot pulse, deep and perfect, his cock filling you with warmth. 

He didn’t move at first. Just held there, twitching inside you, breath heavy, chest heaving against yours. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he whispered, forehead resting against yours.

He kissed you then, slow, open-mouthed, filthy, and tender all at once. And when he finally pulled out, you gasped at the loss, feeling disappointingly empty. “You’re perfect.”

He looked down at you, watching himself drip out from between your thighs, and let out a shaky laugh. “Look at you, fucking filthy baby. Look at what I did to you.” He said, running his finger through the slick mess between your legs pushing it back into you as you whine. 

He leaned in again, kissing your shoulder, dragging his lips down your chest lovingly before whispering, “You’re mine now, every fucking inch.” 

You whimpered, hips twitching at the pressure. “Oscar-” you gasped.

“You think I can stop now?” He growled, voice low and rough, his body sliding down against yours. “When you’re this wet, this open for me, when I can see what I’ve done to you?”

He sat back a little, spreading you open again. He knelt between your legs, eyes fixed between them, lips parted like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to ruin you with his fingers of his mouth. 

“Fuck it,” he muttered. “You let me know if it’s too much okay, baby?” He reassured, his eyes hungry with want. 

He dipped his head and licked a striped through the mess he left inside you, groaning low in his throat, the sound vibrating through you. 

You sobbed, a hand flying to grip the sheets, the other threading through his hair, body jolting at the overstimulation. 

“You taste like me,” he said, almost smug, tongue dragging over you again. “So fucking sweet, how the fuck am I supposed to be gentle, hm?” His eyes running over your body hungrily, peering up at you from between your legs. 

His hands pinned your thighs wide as he sucked your clit into his mouth, rough and hungry, pure filthy, wet, need. 

You were already close, too close. “Oscar, I- please,” Your voice cracked, hips bucking up. 

“Yeah baby,” he groaned into you, “I know, gimme another darling. Let me hear how pretty you sound with my cum still dripping out of you.” 

That pushed you straight over. You came hard, again. Your whole body shaking, breath catching on a scream as he worked you through it with his tongue and fingers, relentless and soaked. 

He pulled back only when your thighs were twitching, lips slick and shining, eyes glazed with lust. 

He looked wrecked. 

And hard again.

“Turn over,” he said, voice hoarse, wrecked and commanding. You blinked at him breathless.

He reached down, slapping your ass once, just enough to make you jump. “On your knees. I’m not done with you.” a tone of ferality to him. 

You obeyed, barely able to hold yourself up, Oscar’s arm coming around your waist to support your body. He lined himself up behind you, dragging his cock through your folds teasingly, 

“Gonna fuck you one more time okay, baby?” he groaned, hand gripping your hip like a vice. “And you’re gonna take it.”

You moaned, shameless and needy.

“Such a good girl,” he whispered, voice strained, “Opening up for me again, you’re mine.” You nodded, barely able to breathe.

“Say it.” He commanded, sliding into you slowly.

“I’m yours,” you gasped, face falling onto the pillows.

“That’s right,” he muttered darkly, sliding in and out, deeper and rougher, more possessive now. Filthy, and in love, and completely fucking obsessed. 

And it was quite safe to say he didn’t stop until you were crying into the pillows, shaking, and ruined all over again. 

“You okay?” he asked, your body collapsing forward into the pillows, legs trembling, heartbeat still fluttering somewhere in your throat. Your body felt wrecked in the best way, used, filled, warm.

You barely registered the sound of the sheets rustling behind you until you felt Oscar’s hands on your hips again, softer this time, thumbs pressing light circles into your skin. 

“Hey,” he whispered, voice rough from the use, but gentle now. “Breathe. I’ve got you.”

He eased out you slowly and carefully, you winced at the loss. Oscar leaned forward, kissing the top of your spine, then the back of your shoulder, his lips lingering. “You’re okay,” he murmured. “I’ve got you, baby.”

He disappeared for a moment, you heard the tap running, the sound of a warm cloth being wrung out, then he was back, sinking onto the bed beside you, gently coaxing you onto your back. 

His eyes flicked across your body, his work. The redness on your thighs, the marks on your neck, the mess between your legs. 

He swallowed hard.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he said softly, in awe. “Completely mine.” You shivered at his words.

“Too much?” he asked immediately, eyes snapping up to yours, alert. “No.” you whispered, “Not even close.” A small smile crossing your face.

Relief washed across his face, and he kissed you, without any hurry. His hand cradling the side of your face, thumb brushing your cheekbone, you leaned into him, your body aching but weightless now, as if everything inside you had finally settled. 

He cleaned you gently, his touch light but focused, whispering quiet apologies every time you flinched. 

When he was done, he pulled you straight into his arms, blankets pulled up, limbs tangled. You tucked yourself into his chest, cheek against his warm skin, listening to the slowing rhythm of his heart. 

He kissed your forehead, then again, and again, like he couldn’t stop. 

“You okay?” he asked again, his voice barely above a whisper now.

You nodded into his neck. “I’m fantastic.” you let out lightly. 

His arms tightened around you. “I love you.” he murmured, burying his face in your hair. You smiled, half-asleep already. “I love you.” you mumbled happily. 

There was a long pause. Just the two of you, breathing together.

“You know I’m never letting you out of this bed again, right?” he whispered. “Like… we live here now.”

You laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his chest. “You say that now.”

“I mean it,” he mumbled, already pulling you impossibly closer. “You’ve got me obsessed.”

And with your body against his, the smell of skin, sweat, and something softer between you, you fell asleep with him wrapped completely around you. Safe, warm, and entirely his. 

-‘๑’-

[pupsec]

𐔌 、kakashi　ﾉ　you quietly play the role of a dutiful wife—until you uncover his secret stash of smut and realize your aloof husband might just be a filthy, pervert 𓈒　◟

cw: arranged marriageノdubcon undertones ノ obsession ノ explicit content ノdark themes ϑϱ

୨ৎ dead dove: do not eat！minors, blank & ageless blogs will be blocked ୨୧ pt. 2

You married him under sakura blossoms and a sky the color of secrets.

Kakashi Hatake never looked at you during the ceremony. His Sharingan was covered, his visible eye lowered, posture slack like this whole thing bored him. A political bond, they called it. A strategic arrangement. You were nothing but a name on a scroll, a signature in ink. You half expected him not to show up. Maybe a crow with a note tied to its leg instead—Sorry, too busy training. Best wishes.

But he came. He said "I do" with a shrug.

You moved into his quiet house tucked into a hill on the edge of the village, where the wind always carried the scent of pine and earth, and the porch creaked with age. He gave you the larger bedroom, disappeared into the smaller one down the hall. Never touched you. Barely spoke.

"Don’t trouble yourself," he murmured the first day, not even glancing up from his book. "I won’t get in your way."

So you didn’t. You dusted. Swept. Folded. You ironed his uniforms and laid them out with care. Cooked meals and left them covered with a little note—If you're hungry. Most went untouched.

You tiptoed around him like you were afraid to wake a sleeping wolf. A wife in name only. You kept your head down, told yourself it was fine. Maybe even peaceful.

Until one day you were cleaning.

It was raining. The sound of it tapping against the window made the silence heavier somehow. Kakashi wasn’t home. An early mission. You hummed as you dusted the shelf in his spare room—a room you weren’t supposed to touch, really, but something about it called to you today. Maybe it was the crooked frame. Maybe it was boredom. Or maybe it was the little pull of curiosity that always got girls like you in trouble.

You tugged the drawer open.

And froze.

Stacked. Neatly. Organized alphabetically, even. Rows of smutty novels. The kind with aggressively suggestive titles and lurid covers—The Icha Icha Chronicles: Lust in the Mist, Kunoichi Heat 3: Forbidden Jutsu. One was dog-eared right in the middle. You flipped it open before your brain could stop your hands, and—

The scene inside made your face go hot.

Someone tied up. Begging. Calling the man sensei. Pages sticky from too much use. You dropped it like it bit you and stumbled back.

Kakashi—stoic, unreadable Kakashi—was reading this filth?

You snapped the drawer shut and ran.

You didn’t bring it up. How could you?

You just scrubbed harder. Smiled tighter. Tried to push it out of your head. But then your panties started to vanish.

Not the plain ones. Not the folded cotton briefs. No—it was the delicate lace, the soft silk, the ones you only wore when you were feeling fragile and feminine. You thought maybe you misplaced them. Laundry mistake. Until it kept happening. Until you knew.

Then it was the scent. On the laundry. Faint, but there—something musky and warm and male. You started doing your laundry in secret.

And then one night, you caught him.

You woke for no reason. A soft creak. A breath. The door cracked open.

You pretended to stay asleep.

You kept your breaths slow, steady, heartbeat hammering in your ears as you felt his presence at the edge of the bed. So close. So quiet. Something shifted on the sheets.

You waited until he was gone to peek.

Your underwear drawer. Still open.

The next morning, Kakashi sipped his tea like nothing happened. Same bored look. Same lazy posture. The man who used your panties as a midnight addiction was smiling politely and asking if you wanted more sugar in your tea.

Your head spun.

How could he look at you like you were glass, when he was sneaking into your room just to press his face into your scent? How could he act so unaffected, when the flush on his throat betrayed something molten just under the skin?

You started watching him. Closer. The twitch of his fingers when you bent over. The way his eye followed the line of your throat when your robe slipped just a little. You tested it—dropped a towel "accidentally," bent slowly. Kakashi didn’t move.

But he stared.

When you turned to look at him, his nose was buried in that damned book again. As if he didn’t just imagine bending you over the table and fucking you till your knees gave out.

He was a ghost in the day and a deviant in the dark.

And you were the good little wife who smiled and served tea.

But you felt it now. The tension curling around both of you like smoke. The sharp awareness. The way his voice dipped low when he said thank you for breakfast, like it had a thousand meanings under it. The way your thighs clenched when he stood too close.

One night, you found a pair of your panties—worn, damp, and warm—folded under your pillow.

Your hands shook. You didn’t throw them out.

You tucked them away.

You weren’t sure who you were becoming.

But it made you wet just to think about it.

[hoshigray]

Could you maybe do the jjk men with a brat reader?

˚₊‧꒰ა !! BRA✮T✮AMER !! ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ | jjk men

✿꫶ ᩨkento, satoru, suguru, sukuna & toji × taming their bratty baby

contents: JJK men x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - size differences - brat taming - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (m! receiving) - manhandling - shibari; rope bondage - sex toys - impact play (p + a slapping) - Daddy kink - overstimulation - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up, or get tf up) - more stuff specified in their respective perspectives - mentions of drool/spit, pain, and tears.

word count: 3.8k

a. note: my first multi-chara post to celebrate 10k, yippeee!! lmk how i did ( •◡-)-✩

── ✿ Nanami Kento ⋮ sex in a public space; office room - thigh riding - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (pressing and pinching) - orgasm denial - pet names (baby, [my] love, sweetpea).

“Taaahhh, Kentooo, more, mooore…”

All you had to do was be good, not cause too much trouble for your boyfriend in his place of work, and be patient.

So why does your man have to pull you aside to one of the offices of Jujutsu Tech to correct you?

“You’re not supposed to be enjoying yourself, love. Especially after that stunt you pulled a few minutes ago.”

Nanami pressed you against a wall, his arms caging you and a leg between yours. After a rather inappropriate display of affection, you had showcased to one of the faculty members he was speaking with–poor Ijichi–he grabbed your wrist and stormed inside to find the quietest area to deal with you. What is supposed to be a talk on your childish antics turned into…you riding his thigh?

He doesn’t know why or how it happened; one moment, he was lecturing you on how indecent your behavior was (in a school, no less!), and then he watched your attention drift downward, away from his chocolate eyes to the tan pants. Your hips slowly come to and fro, sliding your groin on the hard surface of his thigh. He catches on after the third or fourth thrust, the tone of this conversation dialing to a more intimate connotation. 

Your hands grab hold of his blazer, shaky huffs escaping your lips. “Ohhh, Kentooo,” you purr with a bitten lip. “You feel so good…”

“Is this what you wanted?” The blonde man comes to your ear to whisper and shivers crawl up your spine as you nod. He brings a hand to cup and squish your cheeks. “But explain why you were playing with my belt in front of my peers, my love?”

“Because,” you drop your head on his chest, the rhythm ace of your hips going a bit faster. “You're supposed to—Mmmm!—give me…attention.” 

“Yeah?” He chews on your ear, and a soft gasp exits your mouth. “Doesn’t mean you have to do stuff like that, honey; it makes me look bad.”

You giggled. “You know how much I love to see your reactions, babe. It’s funny—Eeyaah!”

“Well, I’m not laughing,” Nanami’s hand glided down to your skirt, lifting it to touch your groin covered by underwear, and it’s not surprising to feel a damp spot getting wetter. “I’ve told you multiple times to be patient.”

“I…I–I can’t help it!” He shushes you as your voice gets a bit louder, but that’s expected when his thick fingers press hard on your clit. “Whenever I’m with you, I want to be the—fuck—the only thing you care about…”

Nanami kisses your cheek faintly, and you melt to the kiss as his fingers slither inside your panties. “You know I always care about you,” his middle finger teasing your labia and getting covered by your slick. “And when it’s just us two, I always know how to treat you right, huh?”

“Yessss,” you sigh heavenly; the feel of his digit teasing your entrance have you giddy, and his thumb brushing and pressing up on your clit makes you jitter. “Ohhh, Ken, right there…”

“What’s that, sweetpea?” He gently pinches your bud with his thumb and fore, and you grip his blazer as reins. “Want me to care for my baby like I know how?” You slam your lips onto his; he groans and permits the kiss, sucking on your tongue while his fingers curl and erupt moans of pleasure for him to drink. You separate to pant heavily, and he says: “Tell me, my love.”

Oh, God, yes! The bucks of your hips get faster. “Yess, pleaseee…!”

He huffs with a tiny smile. “Well, not right now.”

….Huh?

Nanami removes his fingers from your skirt and immediately removes himself from you, wiping your essence with his tongue and handkerchief. “Like I said, you must be patient to get what you want.”

Wait, huh?!? “W-Wait a minute, we were,” you watch him walk to the office door. “Just getting…started.”

“I know; I gave you a small taste of what’s to come after my meeting,” he opens the sliding door. “Until then, stay here and be good like I told you.”

“Hold on—Kento, stop!” Before he leaves, Nanami gives you a smirk, a tiny sign of victory on his part. And with the close of the door, you groan out loud for all the people of the school to hear.

── ✿ Gojō Satoru ⋮ oral (f! receiving) - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (licking + sucking) - multiple orgasms - overstimulation - pet names (angel, baby, princess, sweetie) - mention of drool/spit.

“Haaaahshiiiit! Ahhhh, ‘Toruuu, shtop iiiit!!”

“Mmphaa—fucking God, you taste so fucking good, angel.”

Gojo is just as childish as you—don’t let the height and the intimidating aura fool you, motherfucker is a literal overgrown child. When he needs to be serious, he will deliver as the strongest sorcerer of the modern era, and his confidence and indestructible arrogance are what aid him in flying through his enemies or people who wrongfully think they can try to control him.

And that also goes for you, his little cute brat of a crybaby.

“Sat’ruuuu, don’t suck so h—Aaaahh!!”

You loved to play fire with fire with your tall boyfriend, both harboring an ego that clashes periodically. You never want to make it easy for him; he’s the strongest, after all—he should be able to handle you! For example, one thing that Gojo can’t stand when he’s with you is ignoring him. You want to get him really on his nerves? Just ignore him as best as you can! And that’s what you did, walking around your shared apartment, not coming to him when he calls or listening to music on full blast while scrolling on your phone until he snatches it off your head.

Or–and this is the best–moving away from him whenever he’s affectionate towards you. Oh, it messes with his head! He puts an arm around you? Scoot out of his reach. Wants to hold hands with you? Nonchalantly remove yours and act like you’re checking your nails. Pulling you in for a hug and kiss? Suck your teeth and put your hand on his expecting lips, and move somewhere else to really add salt to the wound.

It leaves him shellshock, gawking at your figure walking away from him—and you know his expressions must be golden. But he’s not dumb—he knows what game you’re playing. And, most certainly, two can play that game. 

“Gaahhh, nnnhh, y-yo’r tongue—Ghhhh!”

Gojo knows you’re putting him through this trivial hell for your enjoyment because he’ll come crawling right back to you for attention. And he will…and he’ll do it in a manner you hadn’t envisaged tenfold.

He pulled you by the legs on the living room couch, hearing you giggle as he stripped you off your leggings and underwear. It started small—kisses and light nibbles on your inner thighs, spreading your legs for access. You peer down to his snow-haired head, grinning in triumph as you finally get what you want.

However…there’s a catch.

Gojo’s tongue feverishly tongues you down, nestling the wet muscle in between the lips of your labia. His saliva and your come blend with the swishes of his tongue and is then sucked into his mouth. Your body quakes from the commotion of your boyfriend eating you out so ceaselessly, his nose bumping into the hood of your clitoris.

“Fuuuck, baby, you taste too good!”

 “‘Toru, stop iiit, it’s too muuuch!” You shake your head that’s pounding relentlessly. “I came three times already!”

“Ehhh, but this is what you wanted, right?” He loves the way you shudder as he licks and flicks your clit. “Wanted me to treat you like a princess, huh?”

You writhe as he blows and spits on your messy cunt, yet the hands on the back of your knees keep you aground to the couch. “Nnnmph, n–not like thisss, one was enough—I’m gonna break…!” You nearly choke on your drool as Gojo sucks on your clit roughly. “D-Don’t…! Fuuuhuhuuck…!!”

The white-headed man lifts his face to look at you, watching your expressions and wailing cries as he stuffs his fingers to please you. “Awww, what’s wrong, sweetie?” The blunt of his fingertips scraping your texture has you moaning aloud. “Think you’ll cum again?” 

You babble and nod so frantically; God, you were too adorable for him.

“Mmmm, I don’t know,” the sing-song tune meant to patronize as Gojo’s fingers go faster. “I’m still kinda hurt you avoided five of my kisses today,” he returns his face to your chasm. “But if you can cum for me five times, all is forgiven, princess~.”

“Bu–But I can’t…!” Teeth find your bottom lip to chew once he stuffs his mouth back onto you, latching his lips to slurp more of your fluids with a firm hold on your knees. “I’ll breaaaak…!”

“That’s exactly what I want!”

── ✿ Getō Suguru ⋮ shibari; rope bondage (boxtie) - fingering (f! receiving) - sex toy; clit vibrator - finger sucking - clitoral play - overstimulation - pet names (baby, pumpkin, sweetie).

Do you really think a man who raised two girls on his own doesn’t know how to handle a minx like you?

“Hahhhh, ohmyG—Mmmph! Suguru, pleaseee—“

“Shhh, quiet, baby. Or they might hear you.”

Let’s be honest with ourselves—if anything, he likes it when you try him like this.

If Gojo was overgrown child #1, then Geto is second in proclaiming that title. However, unlike Gojo, he’s not going to come to your level and try to one-up you in your game—no, no, no; that’s not his style of play. Instead, Geto aims to bring you down from your high horse and humble you.

You experience it firsthand after trying to badmouth him earlier, calling him some stupid nicknames that aren’t appropriate for his cult members to hear, doing or going places you were told not to, or whining at him for attending to his activities rather than spending time with you as he promised. You are supposed to be his top priority, and, to your dismay, you are not being top prioritized now. Hmph! 

Of course, Geto is witness to your little tantrum, letting your childish nature reign supreme until he has the availability to deal with you. And when he does deals with you—

“Ughhh!! Fffshiiit, d-don’t doo that!!”

He deals with you.

Now you’re in his quarters, stripped from your flared mini-skirt and your hands tied behind your back with shibari rope. Your back to his chest, vulnerable to him as he gropes your chest with one hand, the other in between your spread legs, fingers playing with your leaking cunt. Fingertips rub on surfaces you can’t reach, and you can’t help but release your cries.

He chuckles as you writhe from the rough tweeze of your nipple. “You’re such a handful, you know that?” His hand leaves your shirt to toy with the blindfold that shields your eyes. “Just can’t behave and make things easier for me, can you?” 

“Mmmm—ohhshiiit,” you throw your head after a curl to your upper vaginal wall. “…J-Just because you tell me to do something, doesn’t mean I’ll—ohhh!—do it…!”

“And you wonder why you’re in this predicament.” Geto then grabs the small remote sitting idly by his side, presses a button, and the moan you let out grows predictably louder. “Woah, that’s a nice sound!”

The vibrator that’s held by your panties stimulates the sensitivity of your clitoris, having you gasp and wail from the intensity and your legs wanting to close. This is impossible as Geto’s ankles keep your feet apart; your feeble attempts to squirm out of his proximity only farce him. “Don’t try and run now, sweetie. Gotta stay still to correct your behavior.”

“—Nnnaaa, ahaha, correct me?” You titter in pants, moving your face to peer at your lover with innocent doe eyes. “You wouldn’t punish…me, your sweet babygirl, right?” 

The narrowness of his violent eyes, paired with the broad smirk, has you clamping onto his digits like crazy. Geto sighs as he removes his hand from your aching slit, your fluids coating his slender fingers before she shoves them inside your mouth. “Look at you trying to act sweet now,” you lather his fingers with your tongue, sucking on them and tasting your excess come. “We haven’t even gotten to the real punishment yet, but you’re already crying.”

Your hips sway voluntarily, your ass purposely grinding on his groin. “D-Do it, then! I’m not scared—Daaah!!” Geto removes his hand from your lips to travel back down, pressing on your panties to have the vibrating clit toy overwhelm your senses.

“Heh, bet you can’t even last five minutes in, pumpkin.” He grinds the vibrator on your clit more.

“Nnmph! Make that ten!”

He scoffs. “We’ll see.”

── ✿ Ryōmen Sukuna ⋮ size difference (true form! kuna) - double penetration; anal and vaginal - eagle position - degradation - clitoral play (pinching) - impact play; pussy slaps - choking - unprotected sex - pet names (little toy, pet) - mention of pain and tears.

“—Haahhh, fuuuck—Aaaaht!”

“Shut the fuck up, little shit. You even scream like a fuck toy.”

Oh, to be a brat to the King of Curses. Indeed, you have a death wish.

Not only is Sukuna the powerful curse user of Jujutsu history, but he is also the most selfish, egotistical, and vilest man ever to walk on this Earth. People and curses around him know better than to challenge his standing, knowing that they’d end up in minced pieces or beheaded in their first step. It is that fearful respect that Sukuna feeds on, besides cutting down on those who absurdly test him.

And you, his little consort, tested him the worst of all.

One thing that Sukuna fancies about you is your independence; it’s the thing that had him curious about you in the first place—it beats someone clinging onto him and seeking comfort in his personal space. The problem, however, is how that said independence has its faults. For his life, no one in this rotating globe has found joy in pushing the giant cursed man’s buttons other than you. In his philosophy, when Sukuna commands–never asks–to do something, nothing is expected outside of doing simply that. 

He does not expect the “Nah, don’t wanna”s, the “I’m busy, ask someone else,” or worse: “Ever heard of please, big buy? Oh! Better yet, how about begging me to do it~?”

Infuriating is the best word to describe having to deal with you. Your only saving grace is that he treasures and finds use in your presence; if not, your blood would be seeping down to the bedrock.

…However, that doesn’t mean he won’t pin you down and teach you a lesson if necessary. After all, he eats people for less.

So here you were, back on the futon while your legs were propped up by Sukuna’s upper arms, all of your clothes scattered around the tatami flooring surrounding the room, and sweat decorating your hot skin. 

Your hands find purchase on his massive thighs as he bullies one of his fat cocks into your asshole; the sheer girth of him is enough for your eyes to run for the ceiling. “Daaahh, hooohshit, i’m ‘o fuuull…!”

“Hmph,” the four-eyed man scoffs at your comment, watching your expression contort to pitiful euphoria. “Fucking pet, the only thing you can think about is dick.” He slams his hips, roughly smacking your ass and scraping the walls of your rear channel with the tip of his cock. “Too stubborn to even follow what I tell you to do.”

The mouth of his stomach licks your tummy. “Mmmm, w-who pulled your pants up a notch?” You dare flash a smile at him during this, yet it withers away when the forefinger and thumb of his lower left hand find your clitoris and give it a pinch.

“Still got enough spark to talk back, huh?” The digits roughly squeeze your sensitive bud and only have you screaming louder and your anus puckering on his length tighter. “Hnngh...Just doing things I tell you when you want to,” another snap of his hips causes a howl, along with another nip to your clit. “But when it comes to this, you’re a real submissive tool, hmm?... Oi, I’m talking to you.” 

Sukuna slaps your cunt—and he slaps it hard—the impact has your eyes shot wide and cry out from the pain flourishing. “Nnnfff! F-Fuck…I only listen to you when it benefits me!”

“You never listen to me.”

You giggle wickedly with tearful eyes. “That’s the point.”

Maroon orbs narrow with the growth of an evil grin. “Fucking whore,” you earned yourself another smack of the palm on your chasm. 

“—Ffffuuhuuck!!” Your head is thrown back to the sole pillow you lay on, your small frame overshadowed by his gigantic size. “I’m so clooose…gonna cuuum…”

Another slap. “What makes you think I’d let you cum?”

Your face returns to look at him with a bitten lip, eyes fierce yet playful. “Because I fucking said I so!” Oh, fuck did that reply tickle something in Sukuna, a guttural chuckle sneaking up on him. 

He switches his upper right arm with the lower right to grab your neck. Your tiny fingers come to his wrist as the crook of his thumb is enough to add weight to your windpipe, yet your hazy smile refuses to leave your face. “Your say so means nothing to me. You will cum when I say so, little toy. Is that clear?” 

Your resilience is still present in your eyes, but you’re smart enough to know you should comply. You nod slowly, and the grip on your throat loosens a bit. Sukuna then silently moves his lower left hand to guide the top of his dual cock, kissing your aching folds. The hand on your throat grabs for your cheeks to keep your face on him—he likes to watch what happens once he inserts inside you. Your eyes roll with tears striking down, your mouth goes agape to the push of his cockhead, and the silent shriek at the addition of his second cock nestling within you all has him snicker malevolently.

“Pathetic.”

── ✿ Fushiguro Tōji ⋮ manhandling - restricted movement - oral (m! receiving) - Daddy kink - backshots/leapfrog position - impact play; spanking - unprotected sex - pet names (baby, babygirl, mama) - cervix-fucking - creampies - mention of pain and spit/drool.

“Ohhh! Ohh! D-Daddy, it huuurts—Shaaaah!!”

“Gonna keep hurtin’ more if you don’t quit squirmin’ like that.”

Toji is one motherfucker who knows how to deal with brats; like Sukuna, he gets a kick out of it. So, someone like you who likes to cross a line with him? He’s just waiting for you to give him the chance.

That chance came today when you really wanted to try him. You always had a big mouth on you—something that humored the older man more frequently than not. Walking up and down saying shit that tries to tick him off because, he knows, that’s what you want: to get a rise out of him. And sometimes he’d brush it off, not buying into your bullshit or saying, “Don’t talk big unless y’re tryin’ to learn.” 

Nevertheless, there are times when that big mouth of yours felt like you did want to learn. You opened your mouth earlier, telling how you’d take whatever hell he’d give you without problem. The first sign was a single eyebrow raised as he sipped his coffee, yet you still pushed on, giving him the rundown on how you were ready. He scoffed and retorted. “No, y’re not.” His nonchalant tone sparked you to keep pressing him on, only for him to send a tiny glare. “I’m tellin’ you; y’re not ready.”

But you never knew when to quit, giving your signature smug grin as you walked towards him. “Why, too scared? Don’t think I can handle you?” He says nothing, letting you dig your own grave. “Guess I should find a real man who isn’t afraid to prove me wrong.”

It wouldn’t be befitting as your partner for him not to take the bait. If there’s one thing Toji loves to do, it’s screwing that humble lesson into your thick skull…with the help of his cock. 

Toji smacks your bare ass harshly, erupting a sharp cry from your drooling lips. “C’mon, baby, what happened to that bigass ego of y’rs?”

So…fucking big! It was borderline embarrassing–pathetically so–to act like this. You were going through the absolute most you swore you could handle. Now, you’re stuffing your face into the pillow, your arms pulled to your back and caught by your wrists by a firm hand, ass propped up for Toji to roughly play and plow with.

His girth was surreal; the stretch was beyond words to describe and overwhelming to experience. You mouth seeping incoherent words that can’t be pieced together. Toes curl as the girthy limb in your chasm stretches you out like crazy. And your eyes water from yet another slap on your ass, Toji’s fingernails pinching the skin. “Ghh—ahhaaa, shtoop iiiit!”

“Shtooop iiiit,” he mocks with a dark snicker. “Stop what? Y’re the one who wanted this, right?” He pistons hard, and the raunchy sound of skin smacking onto skin fills the room. The white come that slides out with every push decorated his dick with a white, soapy ring. “Wanted to be filled to the brim and smack around like a bitch in heat, huh, babygirl?”

“Daddyyyy,” you wail, spit rolling out your puffy lips. “T’oo muuuch! I-I can’t take it…!”

“Oh no, we’re way past tapping out now, mama.” Toji’s hips go erratic, and the hold on your wrists grows tighter. “Told you, don’t talk big game if y’re just gonna cry and act like a baby.”

Fuuuck, I can’t!! The hot pain stings your asscheeks, getting worse with every snap of his pelvis. Toji was too much, stretching your velvety walls so badly yet ecstatically good, bringing your face up with just his fingers pulling your mouth and jackhammering his girth so deep inside you. You hiccup to every graze of your G-spot, sounding so dumb with how you’re squealing.

“OhhhhJesus, Daddy, please, I’m sorry,” you plead; that’s all you could do while being fucked out of your mind like a toy. More spanks to your butt threaten more tears to fall off your face. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!!“

“Hmmph, if y’re so sorry, why ya clenchin’ me so tight, huh?” His hand releases your wrists, adding more of his weight on you by pinning you down by the shoulders. The move creates more babbles to escape your mouth and your brain to go mush. “Y’re not sorry f’r shit!”

And to tell the truth, Toji was right. He’s so good at making your body feel good that this had you at an all-time high, your gummy walls contracting around him as you grip the satin sheets in euphoria. Shivers crawl through your frame as he pokes your womb with accuracy, words sputtering in an obscure fashion.

“Hoooohshiiit, fuuck, I-I’m, I’mmm…!!” There’s no room for you to warn him; he doesn’t give you that chance. He pushes your face to the pillow as he keeps pounding you until he reaches climax, spilling his semen into you for the third time that night. But he doesn’t stop until you get off your high, jabbing your cervix so that it has your head battering like a storm. Finally, you let loose and succumb to your orgasm, your vagina clamping onto him as you experience the most Earth-shattering shocks of your life. 

Toji hisses with a deep sigh, finally allowing his waist to rest and slowly removing his length out of your quaking figure. But he doesn’t permit you the 

same courtesy, grabbing you by the scruff of your neck to slap his dick on your cheek. “Suck it clean.”

Your visage, in a complete haze, come slides out of your cunt and messes up the sheets beneath you. Yet, you titter with an aimless smile and take in his cock with a hum. 

“That’s it, mama, atta girl.”

© HOSHIGRAY2024 ✮ reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ⊹ header art by hyocorou + dividers by @cafekitsune.

[kingkaisen]

do you still take requests for scenarios with your dad!gojo fics? if you are, can i pretty please request gojo wanting alone time with reader all day but the three kids (well, two teenagers) keeps cockblocking unintentionally (like always wanting reader's assistance or attention whenever gojo makes a move on reader lol) thank you! ♡

ALONE TIME? || 彡

SATORU G.

♡ — SUMMARY: You & Satoru have adopted two teenagers, Yuji and Megumi. Along with that, you both have a young biological daughter. Sometimes, your household can get a little chaotic, and Satoru can’t seem to get any alone time with you.

♡ — CONTENT: 18+ ONLY // MDNI || suggestive, tiny bit of smut. reader’s busy and whatnot, gojo’s pouty and lovesick (:

♡ — WORD COUNT: 1K

♡ — AUTHOR’S NOTE: This fic is part of my Dad!Gojo series, but reading the other parts isn’t necessary!

The Saturday morning that followed what had been a chaotic week for the Gojo household would be one dedicated to cleaning your messy home — you swore upon it.

However, Satoru was not making it easy.

Your husband was helping out — sure. He wiped down the kitchen island and scrubbed the dirty stovetop after spraying it with a bottle of multipurpose cleaner.

However, he also decided to roll up the sleeves of his shirt, showing off the veins in his arms . . . the muscles that flexed with every stroke of his cleaning rag . . .

Today might have been a cleaning day, but Satoru personally had plans to mess up any room he could catch you alone in.

— ♡ —

Another dirty t-shirt was sprayed with stain remover before being tossed in the washing machine. You were almost done with prepping the dark load of clothes.

It was rather humorous how, when you grabbed Satoru’s zip-up jacket out of the basket, your dear husband was walking through the laundry room door as if you had summoned him.

You didn’t need to turn around to know who was walking through the door, not only because you knew how every family member’s footsteps sounded, but because Satoru was quick to shut the door, approach you from behind, and wrap his arms around your waist.

“When you’re finished with that load, I have another load waiting for you,” Satoru whispered in your ear.

“Oh my goodness, when did you come up with that joke? Either way, it’s too bad, ‘cause I already stripped the bed and washed the sheets,” you gave a soft giggle as Satoru pressed his hard bulge against you.

He trailed kisses along the side of your neck.

“Who said we needed a bed? We have the folding station,” he paused, his large hands rubbing your hips, “the top of the washing machine, the floor-”

Three knocks interrupted Satoru. You two quickly separated, scattering like bugs as Yuji opened the door.

“Mom?” Yuji walked in, a guilt-ridden look on his face.

Whatever currently troubled the teenager was enough of a distraction to make him unaware of the sudden odd behavior you and Satoru were displaying, as he didn’t even notice that you were folding dirty laundry and Satoru was pretending to stare at a picture on the wall.

“What is it, hun?”

“Me and Megumi were trying to clean one of the bathrooms, and uh, the door got jammed. He’s stuck.”

You sighed softly. Not again.

“Babe, will you . . .” you turned around to face Satoru. You gestured towards the laundry as you started to follow Yuji out the room, indicating for him to finish putting the load in the washing machine.

“I got it,” Satoru said, though he couldn’t help but groan with great annoyance.

This was, without a doubt, not the kind of load he had in mind.

— ♡ —

There were quite a few different words one could use to describe Satoru Gojo; said words changed drastically depending on who you asked. However, if there was one word that could sum up your husband today, it was persistent.

Oh, and, perhaps, pouty, as he was currently sprawled out across the couch, his lips pulled into a little frown.

Being that it was a beautiful Saturday and your family managed to wrap up cleaning time a little ways past noon, he was certain that Maya, your young daughter, would want to have a playdate with her best friend, and Megumi and Yuji would go roam around town with their friends, sipping on sodas and spending their hard-earned mission money on movie tickets, junk food, and whatever gadgets or knick-knacks teenagers were into these days.

Oh, how wrong he was.

Not only did his dear daughter want to spend the day at home, but his sons too. And those sons of his invited some of their friends over as well.

Ordinarily, Satoru would have been fine with that decision. After all, your household tended to follow an “open door” policy — because Jujutsu High School sucked, the few students he had with living family members had ones that sucked, and this world? Well, it sucked too.

That left those traumatized teenagers without anyone to truly love or care for them when they were in need, and damn it all, Satoru wouldn’t stand for it. You wouldn’t stand for it. Therefore, those kids knew they could always come to you and Satoru whenever they wanted.

So, here Satoru was, opening his front door and stepping to the side to make way for Nobara, Toge, Maki . . . just how many teenagers were strolling through his door?

“Sure you guys just don’t want a house key at this point?” Satoru mumbled sarcastically, scratching his head.

“Sounds like a great idea,” you replied, though he was talking to his students. You were wiping your hands on a kitchen towel, smiling warmly at the group filling the foyer. “We better get on that, Satoru. I’ve been thinking they should be able to come and go as they like.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Gojo,” Nobara grinned, then turned her head, giving Satoru a playful glare.

Satoru shut the door with a sigh, but he couldn’t help but smile a little. That unmistakable kindness — that caring nature — was one of the many reasons he fell in love with you all those years ago.

Resting his hand on Yuta’s head and ruffling his hair, Satoru looked at you and said, “I know where this is going. I’ll look for a bigger house so they can move in.”

You raised your eyebrows.

“Sweetheart, I’m joking.” Satoru ran his large hand across his face. He approached you, wrapping his hand around your wrist. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Hold on,” you turned your head over your shoulder to face the teenagers as your husband started to drag you away. “Megumi and Yuji are upstairs, there’s lunch in the kitchen if anyone’s hungry, what else, what else? Oh, Toge, I fixed the hole in your uniform. Maki, I-”

“Yeah, yeah, they get it, you love them,” Satoru interrupted.

Once you both made it down a hallway and the group was no longer within your line of sight, you looked at the back of Satoru’s head, frowning, though he couldn’t see it.

“Why are you dragging me?”

“Because if I don’t, you’ll start baking cookies, or brushing someone’s hair, or rearranging our closet,” Satoru led you to the guest bedroom, pausing to listen as he heard the beat of various footsteps headed upstairs — far enough away. “And there’s something else you need to do right now.”

“And what’s that?” You asked.

He twisted the door open.

“Fuck me, of course,” Satoru pulled you into the guest bedroom, shutting and locking the door behind you. “What a dumb question.”

“That’s all I’m good for in your eyes, hm?” You said playfully with a little smile.

“Hush, you’re good for a lot of things and you know it,” Satoru approached you. He leaned down, planting a kiss along your neck. “One of them just happens to be sucking me off.”

He kissed your jaw, mumbling, “damn it, I love you.”

Oh, he was needy. Just as desperate as he was in the laundry room that morning, if not more.

Because of that, it didn’t take long for you both to find yourselves half-naked, sprawled out across the comforter. Satoru climbed over you. He kissed every part of your skin that his lips could reach right now — your lips, neck, jaw, collarbones, and chest.

And your chest was where his lips lingered. He gently sucked on your skin, lifting your back off of the bed slightly so he could remove your bothersome bra. You gripped his white hair, and your touch was enough to make his hard cock ache terribly with need.

But, just as he managed to unhook your bra, just as soft, sweet moans were falling from between your lips and filling his ears, someone knocked on the guest bedroom door.

“Maya wants everyone to play hide-and-seek,” Megumi announced from the other side.

“Okay,” you cleared your throat. “We’ll be right out, we’re just . . . cleaning up. Someone forgot to dust in here.”

“Okay,” Megumi mumbled back. He then walked away.

You started to get off of the bed, rehooking your bra.

“Sorry, honey. Maybe they’ll all settle down later on,” you said to Satoru, who was now lying on the bed, his head hidden underneath a pillow.

He mumbled something you couldn’t quite make out, all before rolling out of bed to toss his shirt back on.

— ♡ —

Satoru endured the world’s longest game of hide-and-seek. He watched you put Maya down for a nap. You then listened to a twenty-minute battle story the group of teenagers wanted to tell you. And, much as he predicted, you did end up baking cookies.

By the time you pulled that last tray of cookies out of the oven, Satoru was simply fed up.

You barely had enough time to turn off the oven before he — much like he did earlier — grabbed your wrist and started to drag you.

But he wasn’t taking you to the guest bedroom, or any room far enough away from the others.

You were sitting in the passenger seat of your car in the blink of an eye. Satoru whipped out of the driveway as fast as he could, ready to throw his money at a nice hotel room for just one night.

— ♡ —

Finally, he had you all to himself. He shot Megumi and Yuji a quick message:

We’ll be back tomorrow. Watch over Muffin. Your friends can spend the night there if they want. Brush your teeth before you go to bed.

Then, after tossing his phone on the nightstand, he finally was able to treat himself to his perfect wife. Oh, did he have so many plans for you.

Satoru was lovingly thrusting in and out of you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he enjoyed your warmth. He was on the brink of an orgasm — god, he was in heaven. Heaven. — when suddenly, the hotel room’s phone started to ring.

You reached over to grab it despite his protests, answering with, “Hello?”

It was the front desk with a noise complaint.

— NEXT PART.

🏷️: @marvel-girl3 @goldenglow149 @luaqsv @sstoru @pinkfemdolly @satorusgummies @therealmrsgojo @leehriie @iminlovewqr0w @odessa-is-my-queen @melodycelos @cutieminaaa @bunheadusa @nana-thee-galaxy-g1rl @allopathi @roseyposeylemonsquozey @thequeenofcurses

[missmookie]

introducing.. police officer!rafe

basics

height: 6'4-6'5, he takes pride in how tall he is and has a habit of laughing under his breath when he sees suspects or criminals shrink under his towering build

body/build: 275lbs of pure muscle, a few scars scattered around his body and biceps big enough to juice a grapefruit😜

age: late 20s-mid 30s

looks

piercings: has had both of his ears pierced since he was a baby, a gold nose stud on the left side of his nose that he never takes out (he says it's bc he's afraid it might close, but you know it's bc he's just lazy so you still force him to take it out to clean it)

tattoos: half a sleeve on his right arm, a full sleeve on his left, little doodles on his back from your kids, dates he cherishes under his heart (anniversary, you and your kids' names + birthdays)

style: always makes sure to keep his buzz fresh, always wearing some sort of shirt that shows off arms. when on duty he keeps his wedding band on a chain around his neck or in a little baggie in the glove box of his cruiser to keep it safe

personality

on duty: assertive on duty, some of his coworkers may call him "cocky", but he thinks of it as having confidence (with a lil bit of arrogance sprinkled in)

off duty: he's such a big softie when he's at home, always makes sure yall have a family fun day at least twice a month 😽

protective: tries to keep his job as far away from his family as possible, he's heard of perps hurting officer's families as a sick act of revenge and he never wants that to happen to you (and his babies)

likes

when you cook for him. he loves getting little notes or pictures of you or the kids included in his lunch bag, and it always makes his day better

spending time with you and the kids. family bbqs, water balloon fights, movie nights, you name it, he's doing it

going your daughter's ballet recitals and your son's football games. he hates letting down his kids when he has to miss some of them due to work, so he tries to make it to every single one; even if he's late

the gym. he likes his body and wants to keep it fit. goes to the gym at least 3 days a week if he has time, and if not he fixes little things around the house, goes on little walks with your daughter, and runs suicides with your son

seeing you wear one of his old academy t-shirts with nothing underneath but a little thin pair of panties. makes him appreciate life even more when he soaks the view of you in, thanking god for the life he was blessed with

dislikes

arrogance. (🌚) new transfer thinks he's a hotshot? he's humbling him quick

laziness. his son not doing his chores? 30 pushups. rookie thinks everything is a game? he's bringing him back to earth immediately, he hates lazy people, especially in his work force.

officers that think it's funny or okay to cheat on their wives. he sees it all the time and it never ceases to digust him. what's the point of being married if you're just gonn cheat? might as well stay single

family hcs

you: as cliche as it sounds you actually met rafe when you got pulled over by his partner for the dumbest reason. you were pretty spooked so he decided to ask you out to make up for his partner's stupid actions

౨ৎ- his petnames for you: wifey, dollface, sweetcheeks, gorgeous, baby, sweetheart

౨ৎ- your petnames for him: rafey, ray, handsome, sexy pants (teasing), officer cameron (teasing)

son: he's 13, so he's a bit tougher on him. very no nonsense, has high expectations of him, doesn't tolerate any disrespect, (especially if it's aimed toward you)

౨ৎ- does football drills with him in the backyard, rough-houses and wrestles with him from time to time, and always makes sure to tell him how proud he is

౨ৎ- nicknames: tough guy, son, boy (when he's in trouble)

daughter: she's only 5, so he carries and treats her like she's made of porcelain. she's your twin, and is the definition of a daddy's girl

౨ৎ- forces rafe to sit down in her tiny chairs to have tea parties, loves doing her hair in little princess hairstyles

౨ৎ- nicknames: princess, little lady, missy, honey bun

© missmookie est. 2025

a/n: this was inspired by @cameronsbabydoll 's military!rafe and @rafeslvbug 's nfl!rafe so props so them 😽 !

send in blurb reqs !

[rafesangelita]

♡ deciding to host the biggest house party on figure eight, you and rafe cut celebrations short after a heated game of beer pong.

warnings: established relationship, alcohol consumption, irresponsible drinking, rafe takes a body shot off of reader, unprotected sex, rough sex (?), rafe puts you in a chokehold <3, dirty talk, praise, overstimulation

wc: 1.1k

everyone knew your parties were absolute ragers, with strangers filling out every corner of your house, and the cops always shutting the place down at the end of the night, to say your parties were the most anticipated on the island would be an understatement. even now as you and rafe challenged one another in a classic game of beer pong, you were sure there was people passed out drunk somewhere. “loser has to take a body shot.” rafe walked around the table, his hand sneaking under your skirt as he passed by. he loved threatening you with a good time.

you rolled your eyes, your best friends cheering you on as you and rafe went round after round until you both only had one more cup left. rafe had a look in his eye that was all too familiar. you knew he secretly wanted to lose, the terrible throw of his ping pong ball confirming your suspicions of him missing on purpose. “aww, are you letting me win?” your smile was the epitome of perfection, your boyfriend motioning for you to go as he grabbed a bottle of tequila from topper. sure enough, an excited squeal left your lips as the little ball landed straight into rafe’s red solo cup.

rafe pretended to be disappointed, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat when he downed the last of the burning liquor. truth is; rafe wanted to get his hands, and mouth, on you since the second he saw you walk down the stairs in that pretty little outfit of yours. if losing to you meant he could run his tongue up your soft flesh and cop a feel of what was under your sequined top, then that’s what he was going to do. rafe walked over, grabbing your hand as he guided you on top of the table. the crowd burst into a fit of cheers, your cheeks heating when rafe gave you a little wink.

you laid flat against the hard surface, your fingers pulling at the hem of your skirt. glancing down at your hands, rafe cursed under his breath when his favorite thong peeked through your bottoms. “you’re in trouble.” rafe slipped off his shirt, laying the article of clothing across your lap so no one else can steal a glimpse of what was his. everyone was hollering as all eyes fell on you and rafe, nervous butterflies fluttering in your tummy. leaning down, rafe licked a stripe up the column of your throat, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss.

after what felt like an eternity, you sighed blissfully when he pulled away, wasting no time in placing a lime between your lips. “you gonna be a good sport and take this for me?” he unscrewed the bottle of tequila, your stomach flipping in excitement. “sí— yes.” as soon as that word left your mouth, rafe tipped the bottle over, the cold substance sending a shiver down your spine. topper and kelce stepped closer, the flashlights to their phones blinding your vision as rafe’s tongue flattened against your skin, the warm muscle moving all the way up to the valley of your breasts.

“no bra?” he teased, licking all the way up to the underside of your jaw. taking the lime from your mouth with his own, everyone erupted in cheers when rafe stood up, topper jumping in the air as he saved the video to his camera roll. you would definitely need to see that later. rafe helped you up from the table, making sure your outfit was in place before throwing his t-shirt over his shoulder. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a bit weak in the knees after feeling rafe taste your skin. wrapping an arm around your waist, rafe whispered in your ear as he guided you two back inside.

“you wear those panties on purpose?” his breath was hot against your cheek, his arm pulling you close to his chest. “no.. my first option was to wear no panties at all.” rafe nodded, a dry laugh falling from his lips. “oh, that’s cute.” he knew you were serious too, and that’s what drove him crazy. before he could say anything else, you pulled away from him, losing yourself in the sea of people before he saw you making your way upstairs, your mini skirt shining underneath the neon lighting of your house. once your door clicked behind you, it wasn’t long before it busted open again.

all it took was rafe seeing your lacey pink thong to get you in the position you were in right now; getting fucked in a headlock while rafe grunted praises in your ear.

“wrapping around me so fuckin’ tight..”

“fuckkk, you’re taking me like the perfect little slut you are.”

“this is what you wanted right? ‘wanted this pretty pussy to get pounded in?”

all you could do was pathetically repeat his name, tears lining your eyes at just how good he felt. his bicep hugged your neck, your chin wobbling against the huge muscle as sounds of his skin meeting yours bounced off of the walls of your room. with his balls smacking against your clit, you nearly screamed when you felt the band in your stomach snap. “ray!” you gasped, your manicured nails digging into his flesh as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “oh, my god!” you were jelly at this point, your limbs feeling like dead weight as rafe made no effort to slow down.

overstimulated and mumbling nonsense, you shook and trembled underneath rafe as he filled you to the brim with his seed, the second greatest feeling ever. the first being whenever he was inside you. rafe’s head rested on your back, his fingers squeezing your hips so hard you were sure to see bruises in the morning. he was panting by the time he finished, his cock still twitching with the aftershocks of his orgasm. collapsing down next to you, rafe gave you a lazy smile, both of you looking equally fucked-out.

“we should probably shut this down soon, it sounds like it’s getting pretty rowdy out there.” you sighed, snuggling into rafe’s side. “i just want to stay like this.” wrapping his arms around you, rafe inhaled the scent of your perfume. “how have you not gotten a citation yet? the cops have been out here at least six times already.” you groaned, feeling sleep pull at your eyelids. “please don’t jinx it.” as if on cue, there was a flash of red and blue lights, a siren sounding from outside. you and rafe froze. “what did i just say?!” you huffed, already dreading having to get dressed and talking to the police.

[burningdevotion]

best way to warm up

Joel Miller x fem!reader

summary: after spending the day out in the cold, Joel wants nothing more than to get back home to his girl. once he has you in his arms, you both agree to retire back to bed, so you can replace the shivers of cold with shivers of pleasure

a/n: this was my first time writing a proper fic for him and I ended up really enjoying it! theres just something about old man!Jackson!Joel that’s so... yeah. this is filth with a bit of plot <3 - (ca. 6k words)

warnings: big age gap (reader in her 20s, Joel close to 60), oral and fingering (r!receiving), brief hand and blowjob, unprotected p in v, praise, multiple orgasms, coming inside, cum eating, pet names, one singular use of "daddy", bf!Joel who goes hard in a loving way

Joel would never get used to the snow.

it didn’t matter how long he’d already lived in Jackson, it went the same way every year, him taking the cold as a personal attack on his summer-loving soul, cursing under his breath whenever his teeth chattered and the tip of his nose and ears turned red from the biting winds.

that particular day it was no different. a blizzard had swept through town a few days before and had left some damage on a few houses, which of course made people turn to your lover when they were looking for someone to help them fix it all up.

Joel was the resident handy man, along with a few other guys, and he wasn´t too happy about it, especially not once he got older and had a pretty girl waiting at home who he´d rather give all his energy to, since waking up sore from tending to you was pleasant, whereas waking up sore from work... not so much.

you had to push him out of the door that morning while he regretted being that skilled at home renovations, to which you just said “come on, show them how strong you still are compared to all the men here who are half your age” which gave him just the right amount of pride and spite to go out there and be a dutiful neighbor while flexing his skills in front of guys who´d tried their luck with you before, smug whenever they struggled to lift as much as he did, thinking about the countless times he´d used his strength for your pleasure, shooting daggers at them whenever they dared to ask him about you.

while he was out being helpful, you spent your day gathering wood for your fireplace and stoked the flames until they were intense enough to make the house feel cozy again. you cooked a hearty soup and left it to simmer on the stove, so you could share a nice dinner later on, taking your time with it, picking all the right herbs. just as you got done cleaning the kitchen, you heard the front door slam shut, followed by Joel kicking off his boots anf letting out a few foul words that made you smile to yourself.

his grumpiness always amused you, his blatant inability to keep his grievances to himself, to put on a convincing poker face - which had gotten him in trouble more than once - because it held no threat of true aggression, Joel was not an angry man, at least not with you, never with you, not over his dead body - one touch, one word from you was always enough turn him into a man about as tender as they come.

you´d managed to soften his tired spirit like a rough stone that got smoothed down over time, just as tough as before, but less prickly, less irritable, more at peace, and he worshipped you for it, the patience that you´d shown him when he had felt so undeserving of it, after everything he´d done, all the pain he’d caused. you both gave each other the kind of solace you never dared to hope for, especially during the darkest nights of the year, savoring the evenings spent cocooned in a glow of love on the couch, clinging to each other while the outside world was covered in ice. 

he came into the kitchen looking all gruff and flushed and achingly handsome, snow melting in his graying hair and beard, dressed in those jeans that fit him just right and a white shirt with a flannel on top, an appreciative long glance from you over his figure that matched his as he spotted you and rushed over. “hey baby” you cooed, smiling at him, “hey there.” he said, still a bit irritated by the whole ordeal outside, but glad to be home at last. “you´re freezing hm?” you asked and beckoned him closer, so he pulled you in and wrapped his arms around you while uttering “like a damn icicle, darling” shivering a bit as he buried his face in your neck and breathed in your familiar scent, his heartbeat slowing immediately, a tight grip on you as he soaked up your heat.

you mirrored his gesture and held him close, rested your head against his shoulder, caressed him up and down his back which made him hum in approval. “poor thing, gotta get you warmed up. what do you need? some coffee, a bath? both maybe?”.

“you” he murmured against your skin, eliciting goosebumps. “right now, all I need is you”, the words barely audible as he started trailing feathery light kisses up your neck, your pulse point, your jaw, your cheek, making you sigh and shut your eyes, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt to hold onto something, a smile as he took the sign to continue and gave the sensitive spot below your ear little licks and kisses, lavishing you with affection.

you let out a faint moan as he did this, your arousal stirred not just by his lips but the way he smelled, so fresh and crisp from the ice-cold air, musky and sweet from his own natural scent, leathery and woody from his jacket and the fire smoke he´d been around, a mix that was so deeply addictive to you.

without warning, he gripped your sides and lifted you onto the countertop, so you instantly wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer, as close as possible, hands on his neck, increasingly turned on, his own hands on your shoulders as he leaned in to whisper “thought of you the entire time I was out there, sweetheart…what I´d have done if I´d stayed in bed with you all mornin” his voice all low and husky as he said it, his breath tickling your ear, his thumbs kneading away the tension in your muscles.

“god..” was all you could respond, your voice all strained from the lust that was slowly spreading through you, pooling at your core, so he didn´t waste any time and leaned in, cupped your face and captured your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, teasingly licking over your bottom lip before you opened your mouth and made him turn the kiss into something more perverse and charged, making out in a way that would´ve been highly inappropriate in public, his hips moving forward in a way that made you feel it: that he was already straining against his jeans. a strangled moan escaped you as his clothed groin pressed against yours, already wet and waiting for him.

in the middle of kissing you, he pushed his hands under your shirt and heard you gasp into his mouth as he cupped your tits, his large, cold palms right over the swell of your breasts, squeezing, feeling you up, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples to soothe them, circling motions that made you moan louder than you intended and lean back in a way that nearly made you knock a jar to the floor, which didn´t deter him, at all, still pressing against your sensitive area, groping you, as he used your position to his advantage and sucked on your exposed throat, heard those little whimpers that drove him wild every damn time.

eventually, you pulled back, out of breath, and sighed “want me to help you get hot all over, hm?”, staring into his eyes with a kind of desire that rivaled even the brightest fire while un-buttoning the top of his flannel, so he skipped the talking and only gave a gravely sound in response as he lifted you up, your legs already where he needed them, carrying you up the stairs, your arms wrapped around his neck, your lips ghosting over his cheek as he reveled in the feeling of being strong enough to carry you over the threshold bridal style, which gave him the brief fantasy of making you his wife, slipping a lacy gown off your frame, pulling garter belt down your leg with his teeth.

the moment he laid you down on the bed, he hurried with getting his shirt and undershirt off, his jeans too, unbuckling his belt in a way that made you want him even more. he needed, he craved the body-to body feel, and the vision of him right then was like a wolf who´d roamed through miles and miles of snow and finally found something to sink his teeth into: impatient, greedy, salivating at the thought.

you pulled your shirt off too as he was already crawling over to you and told you “good girl, now lift your hips for me”, so you obeyed and tossed your top to the floor and helped him shimmy down your jeans, which left you in nothing but thin cotton panties, which drove him wild when he saw the dampness at the center, a brief brush of his fingers over it that made you twitch before his eyes fell to your chest, which made him pounce on you.

within seconds he was palming your left tit as he put his mouth to the other, switching between sucking and licking motions that made you squirm and whimper under him, the tip of his tongue flicking over your nipple before he put it between his lips and suckled on you like he was trying to get milk, so eager, so hungry, so lost in your softness, his knee purposely pressed up between your thighs, creating friction at your core that left you soaked and desperate for more. with a wet popping sound he finally let go but didn´t give himself or you time to catch your breaths, instead pinning your arms to the side, gently but firmly, while placing his mouth between your tits, then your sternum, moving down all the way to your lower stomach while leaving a trail of wet kisses. once he reached the waistband of your panties he paused and left few love bites until he looked up to see you all undone from his impact already, confessing to you “god I can´t take it… you´re too beautiful baby… too soft and delicious… need you all over my mouth, right now”.

before you could say anything, he ripped down your panties and praised “hmm, yeah, nice and open for me” as you parted your legs wider for him so he could settle between them, his kissing from before continuing all the way up your inner thigh, his teeth grazing the tender skin here and there. Joel needed you to a point where he almost humped the mattress, his cock throbbing just from a bit of foreplay, the way it always did, matching the utter sensitivity on your part that made you sound like he was already fucking you, when he hadn´t even reached the apex of your thighs yet. 

before he could taste you, he reached up and played with your pussy a bit, rubbing your clit with his middle and ring finger in circles as he heard you whine so beautifully for him, your eyes cast down, propped up on your arms, so you could get a good look at the way he savored the feel and sight of your slick folds, your swollen clit, pussy-whipped already, rubbing you so softly that it almost felt more shameless and filthy than if he´d jerked you off with force.

when he felt you losing your composure even more and heard a sweet little “baby…” tumbling from your lips, urging him to get to it, he gave a light slap of his hand against your needy pussy that made you wince not from pain but the bolt of pleasure, a devilish smile shot in your direction before he finally wrapped his big arms around your thighs and pulled you down against his mouth, buried himself in you, groaned like an animal as your cunt enveloped his nose and mouth, drowned out all previous worries, left him feeling like he was the luckiest man on planet earth, never ever getting used to your velvety, salty juices that could sustain him through the harshest winter, bring him back to life each time he got a taste of you.

you fell back against the pillows and mewled as he started eating you out, lapped at your cunt in broad, self-indulgent strokes, diving between your folds like a man starved, your slick heat healing his previously frozen up skin as he moved his face up and down to gather up every last drop, drenched in your fluids within no time, the way he needed and wanted it, all the time, sometimes spending entire evenings between your legs like that.

Joel made out with your pussy while you moaned and rocked your hips up to chase his mouth, whining to him about how good it felt, so he pushed you further and slipped a finger into you, no resistance, your cunt greedily taking it in, pleasure noises flowing from between his glistening lips as he pulled back to watch it, “yes, yes.. more” you cried, so he quickly pushed in a second finer and curled them up just right to hit your sweet spot over and over, adding his tongue again once you sounded like you might finish soon, sucking on your clit hard enough to make you see stars as his big fingers pumped in and out of you, got you read for something bigger, your walls throbbing around his knuckles, your back arching up, as the first orgasm hit you like lightning and made you shake and cry out, fully drenching his fingers as you rode it out while he kept his lips firmly suctioned to your clit, his free arm holding you in place as he soaked up the feeling of having you come all over his tongue and hand. 

as you laid there all flushed and riled up, he put his fingers between his lips and licked your cum off while uttering “divine.. like honey…”, keeping eye-contact with you in a way that made you breathe even heavier than before. the sight of you splayed out for him like that, so gorgeous and dripping and clearly in need of more of his service, it made him adore you so fiercely and need you so badly that he frantically pulled down his boxers and tossed them to where your underwear was already crumpled on the floor, his hardness springing free in a way that made him take a sharp breath in and stroke himself as he came over to you and saw your eyes turn down to where he was touching himself, clearly turned on by how rock hard he was, pre-cum leaking out of his tip, his big strong thighs and hairy chest and broad shoulders only driving you even wilder in combination with that view, his stature looming over you in the most dizzying way. “been like this all afternoon…” he groaned  “just from thinkin of you”. 

before he could protest, you sat up, spat into your palm, and reached forward to replace his hand with yours, his head falling back as he felt your palm close around his length, rubbing up and down, slicking him up as an almost pained “ohhh hmppff fuck” escaped him while he gripped your arm for support, bucked up into your grip without thinking, groaned like an animal as you just smiled all sweet and and kept stroking him, savoring the feel of him in your hand like that, aroused and throbbing for you, whispering to him “need this cock in me, baby”.

“yeah? need it right now?” he moaned and felt you going a bit faster to really tease him, so he slipped his thumb into your mouth in retaliation, felt you suck on it, his eyes dark and half-lidded then as you jerked him off and licked all over his finger, until you let go of both at once and leaned back, nodding and saying “hmm yeah, need you deep inside me” emphasis on the “deep”, your eyes never leaving his as you spread your thighs wide enough for him to see your cunt spread open and pulsating for him, inviting him in, so he lunged forward and whispered “oh youre really asking for it now, darlin…” and pushed you back onto the pillows.

you let out a squeal as Joel roughly put you into the position he needed you in, hovering over you, and went on to slide his tip over your wetness, teasing, slapping his cock onto your cunt a few times to watch you turn weak and helpless again, until he guided himself to your entrance and let go of his cock, put his hands by the sides of your face, stared down into your eyes and then kissed your neck right as he pushed himself into you, slowly for the first inches, and then all the way, one swift push, balls deep, no holding back anymore, your pussy aching in relief the moment he bottomed out and had you nice and full again. 

your heat and wetness overwhelmed him as he felt it all, a broken-up “Christ..” as he let you adjust to his size and held your gaze, both of you staring into each other´s soul´s with parted lips, hitched breaths, that delicious moment whenever he first entered you, his palm reaching up to caress you, soothe you, as you matched his low, rumbling sounds with a higher-pitched moan, your pussy stretching around his girth in just the right way, his hardness buried deep inside of you, the ache at your core suddenly pleasurable instead of maddening, a burning need to have him deepen that ache until you couldn´t take anymore, which he sensed, so he moved his hands to grip yours and pin them against the mattress as he slowly started moving in you as the scruff of his beard tickled your neck just right, his moans and kisses covering the skin right above your shoulder as you wrapped your legs around his waist and trapped him in the best way.

you ran your nails down his spine and felt him give you the most dizzying slow, yet hard, deep strokes, so you could feel every single thrust in its entirety, a whimper with each one, throbbing around him as you whined “yes…yes”, so he lifted his head a bit and breathed against your cheek “hmm yeah? like that, baby?”, a weak “hmm” and nod from you in response as you felt him go in and out of you, your pussy relaxed and soaking wet by then, both of you whispering sweet nothings to each other as he picked up the pace, unable to keep his desire contained any longer, his hands leaving yours then so he could brace himself better as he fucked you the way he wanted, intense, hard, and yet so loving, radiating such adoration with each push of his hips, his groans turning louder and more pornographic by the second, a mix of “ohh” and “ughh” sounds rising out of his depths as he got lost in you, the way you looked right then, all flushed and and pretty in your lust-induced haze, head pushed back against the pillow, eyes fluttering shut from that deep pleasure that was starting to possess every little inch of your body, his strokes steady and skilled, his lips suddenly on yours so he could drink up all of your moans and whimpers, kissing you softly as he fucked you intensely, a contrast that drove you wild as you gripped his big arms and held on. 

you loved that he was big but not to a point where it hurt, his cock just girthy enough for you to have to adjust to it a bit at first every time, a mild kind of pain that was more thrilling than punishing, a perfect size and feel for you, the flesh of his length still slightly soft even when he was hard, ideal to a point where you became obsessed with it, sometimes having him fuck you on the couch in the middle of the day, just to feel him for a few minutes, or riding him on a chair in the kitchen, or if things got really heated making him take you inside other people´s bathrooms, one time even fully out in public, at night, too eager for him to fuck you to wait til you were home. Joel loved it. every time. how eager you were for him, the delicious build-up to it, the way you always made him feel like the most virile, desirable man who ever lived just by batting your eyelashes at him and nudging his leg to say “come here, take me, please.”

right then it was no different as he was fucking you into the mattress with determination until he lifted himself up onto his knees and quickly pushed your leg up into an angle that allowed him to really rail the fuck out of you, your back arching up as went as deep as possible then, fast and hard without ever neglecting your comfort, your need, your level of arousal, keeping a close eye on your body, the little tells that gave away how good it felt for you as he kept going and going, praising you, watching you twist your head to the side and bite your lip, groaning “goddd this pussys gonna ruin me one day… feel too fuckin good around me, baby...” and right then he hit the exact right spot, so you whimpered pathetically and stared up at him while moaning  “fuck right there, yes” your insides twisted in pleasure, threatening to burst within the next few minutes.

“yeah? right here? this the spot, sugar?” he asked, not actually needing an answer, only saying it to turn you on even more as he kept the exact pace he was going at and hit you deep inside, over and over, your muscles coiled tight, lewd wet sounds echoing through the room, his body looking all godly and manly like that, taking you as if he wasn´t pushing sixty at all, an ease and power to his movements that made you lose your mind completely.

just as you were bracing yourself for your impending climax, Joel reached down and added his thumb to the mix and oh. you were done for. the way he circled your clit right then.. the way he rubbed over your sensitive bundle of nerves.. it made you choke up for a second. “ohhh fuck baby, oh” you cried out, begging for mercy as he kept fucking and touching you just the right way, admiring the sight of you all sexy and primal in that state of pre-release, drunk on the power to please you that way.

“there you go.. look at you.. gorgeous girl..” he cooed as you begged “don´t stop, just like that, fuck”, so he assured you “shhh, you´re doin so well, takin me so damn well, baby” sweating by then, his scent only messing with you even more, that animalistic, intimate smell of his that always ruined you, Joel rutting into you with the need to see you lose yourself, which you were about to, your pussy leaking all over his cock as you moaned “I´m coming, I´m-” your words silenced by the orgasm that started to hit you, your whole body tensed up, your voice drowned out, right at the peak then, so he leaned forward during his relentless fucking and groaned “I´ve got you, I´ve got you baby girl, just let go for me”, and with that you did, unclenching every muscle at once, suddenly flooded by pleasure, crying out and shaking as he held you in place by your hips, caressed your sides, and slowed down bit by bit, let you ride it out, while uttering “hmm, good girl, such a good girl…”.

as you laid there catching your breath and twitching, he slowly moved his cock out and stroked it in a way that kept him riled up enough to keep going without coming too fast. he wanted to hold out, desperately, he needed more of you, and the second you had enough strength again, you moved your trembling body over to him, kneeled on the bed, and leaned down to lick his tip for him, nudging his hand away and replacing it with your own as you drooled all over his length and licked up the side of the shaft back up to the top, circled his tip, tasted yourself on him, and finally took him into your mouth, not all the way, but enough to make him moan “oh.. youre killin me” while he caressed your hair and watching in awe as you greedily sucked him off. he couldnt help but grunt and buck up a bit, trying his best not to choke or gag you, but so damn sensitive to your pretty mouth wrapped around him like that, a pained “goddammit” leaving him as you sucked his dick until he couldn´t take any more. before he could cum in your mouth, he peeled you off and grabbed you to get you where he wanted you, panting, desperate, hard as a rock.

Joel gave your leg a loving squeeze and told you “come here baby, come lay on your side for me, nice and comfortable, right here” maneuvering you into the position he was aiming for as he laid down behind you and watched you lift your own leg up, knowing what he wanted to do to you. “that´s it, perfect” he whispered as his arm slipped under your side and wrapped around your front, over your tits, to hold you flush against his chest, so strong and warm and comforting as he did it, his face right by your neck, a soft kiss as he settled in his big spoon position and groaned from the desire to dive back into your heat already. 

you needed it too, badly, your pussy twitching around the emptiness, so you moved your free hand down to guide his cock back into yourself, both him and you watching your lower half as he slipped right back in, both of you so sensitive and raw by then that he shuddered as you swallowed him up again while you let out a faint “ohh… oh” and pressed yourself back up against him to feel his entire body pressed against yours, your eyes shut as he kept his arm wrapped around your front and kissed your shoulder, your neck, groaned and bit down lightly as he picked up a pace and started fucking you from the side, possessive and protective at the same time the way he thrust himself into you with increasing passion while holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world, which to him, you were, always and forever.

the sensation of being filled over and over from that lazy angle did something to you, made you surrender and lay in his arms all docile and sweet, which got him good: the way you trusted him, moaned for him, let him take you like that, so he fucked you a bit faster and rougher while peppering gentle kisses over the slope of your shoulder, slapping sounds filling the room as he kept going, his cock nice and deep inside you, so good that you were overcome by love and twisted your head back a bit to chase his lips and kiss him, your tongue in his mouth as you struggled to kiss him properly but tried your best amidst the frenzied fucking, his heart beating faster not just from the way you felt on him but the adoration he saw mirrored in your eyes as you briefly looked at him, all dazed and fucked out, so perfect, so angelic for him, his girl, all his, another deep, sloppy kiss from him as you whimpered to him about how good his cock felt, his own affection for you ruining him then as he whispered “this pussy was made to be worshipped by me, this body, all of it” which got you good, clenching around him so hard that he groaned “oh god hmmm” and tightened his grip on you, slamming into you as you submitted to it and got fucked into a blissful oblivion while he was right behind you, steading you, warming you, the neighbors down the street probably well aware of what was going on by then, your cries too loud to be drowned out by wooden walls, which made you feel even more aroused: that smug feeling of spending the afternoon getting your brains fucked out instead of doing anything to prove how dutiful you were, sinfully self-induldent in the best way. 

the softness of the cuddle-fucking somehow got you wet to a degree that was so intense that each thrust made a squelching sound, filthy and nasty and just how he loved it, his finger back on your clit as he briefly slowed down and moaned “fuckkk gonna make me cum baby” less intense strokes then, a brief pause to draw the sex out longer, he refused to cum, needed a few more minutes, so you gave in and savored the sensual, romantic feel of having his cock slide in and out your mess without much force, which held its own intense pleasure, an ease to it that turned you on, made you push your ass back against him and whine “ohhh… oh yes please” so he kept going like that for a while as you made out in a way you couldn´t before, catching your breaths a bit until the went faster again and braced himself for his orgasm, but before he could finish like that, you had the urge to change positions once more to really get fucked hard for your next orgasm.

you mumbled “baby I need-” and trailed off as you freed yourself from his grip and pushed him onto his back to get up and straddle him, your cunt slipping over his thigh for a moment, a grinding motion as he held his length and nodded “yeah darlin, take just what you need, drench my lap, lemme see”, a few more desperate rocking motions of your hips against the muscle of his leg, leaving a glistening trail of your cum once you got up and aligned yourself with him and sat down on it, sighing in relief once you felt him all the way in again and started riding him. you were too weak to really bounce on it, to give him the whole fantasy, but frantic and needy enough to give him a perfect view of your tits bouncing as you slid up and down his cock and saw him lean back against the heaboard, watching in awe, his hands on your sides as he supported and guided you, eager to tease another high out of you before his own would leave him wrecked for good, marveling at you on top of him looking like a goddess.

after a moment, he ordered “come down here” and made you lay chest to chest, wrapped both of his strong arms around your back, and held onto you tightly as he said “just relax for me now baby, okay?”, so you braced yourself, aware of what he was gonna do, and muffled your cries against his shoulder as he slammed up into you from below, over and over and over, truly ruining you, giving you a final round of achingly deep, aggressive thrusts that left you helpless on him - you didn´t have to do a single thing but take it all and stop resisting the overwhelming feeling that was about to unravel you, body and soul. you held on for dear life as he moaned that he was getting close, so you begged “come in me, please baby, please”, so he groaned “yeah? want me to fill you up?”, which made you insist “yes daddy… please”.

the word slipped out. it wasn´t on purpose. and that was what killed him. the innocent, fully instinctual way you uttered it, the word "daddy" going right to his head and heart and groin all at once as he grunted “jesus baby.. gonna make you mine now, gonna fill you all the way up”, his movements stopping all at once as he kept himself all the way inside you after last thrust and released his cum, shaking and twitching as he felt himself leaking and heard you moan in relief as you came right at the same time from the heavenly warm sensation of having him claim you that way, a decent amount of his juices splurting out until he was empty and shuddered one last time before he went as slack as you were by then, his arms still around you, keeping you safe, always.

for a moment, you just laid there like that, inseparable, entwined, panting and sweating, lost in the haze of your shared orgasm, until you peeled yourself off and flopped down on your belly on the empty side of the bed.

Joel moved and told you “lift that pretty peach a bit for me, baby” so you smiled against the pillow and did as he said, arching your butt up a bit as you felt him press a few kisses against your backside before he leaned in and did something that almost made you black out during your intense afterglow: he lapped up his own cum where it was leaking out of you and gently ate you out from the back.

another man might’ve just gotten a towel but not him. Joel wanted to make sure that he was cleaning up the mess he´d made of you, while also using the excuse to spread your cheeks open and lick all the way from your puffy lips to right below your hole, teasing you, feeling you wiggle a bit in response. Joel was a tits man the same way he was an ass man, so he shamelessly ate you up and kissed the plump flesh as you laid there on your stomach, blissed out, enjoying your man´s lack of shame when it came to his desires - whenever he came on you or in you, it was an excuse for him to keep going for a little bit longer: if he came on your tits it was an excuse to suck on them again, if he came in your mouth it made him tongue kiss you again, if he came inside of you it was a way to make himself get a final taste of you. eventually, his primal energy left him and made him slump down next to you, your pussy nice and soothed by his soft tongue after all the fucking before.

you both laid there, spent, satisfied, quiet, his hand resting on your thigh, leaving you some space to calm down as he did the same, until you turned over and snuggled up to him, your head on his chest, his arm around your back again, a dazed smile on Joels face as you nuzzled up to him like that and asked “you all warm again now?”.

“hmm, you know just how to get me hot and bothered.. my pretty lil sunshine” he whispered and pulled your hand up to kiss each of your knuckles, adoration radiation from him in a way that almost made you shed a few tears when he briefly pressed your fingers against his cheek after that tender gesture, his eyes closed, a shuddering breath out that told you his level of comfort and happiness matched yours.

“needed this so bad...might´ve died without it, I swear” he mused and gazed down at you while he caressed you, traced your side, marveled at how silky smooth you were, drawing idle patterns right above your hip .“dont know how I survived the winters before you” he admitted, both to you and himself.

you turned your head to look up and smiled at him, “you wish you could keep me in here and just hibernate through the winter, don´t you, old man?”.

“excuse me, ma´am?” he asked, exaggerating his shock for effect, giving you a playful squeeze in response. “oh, I´ll show you old, you´re in for it next time, little lady, just you wait.”. 

“oh no, how will I manage?” you exclaimed, clearly not scared but very pleased by that threat, a barely suppressed smile on his face as you draped your leg over his and laid on him all boneless and smiley. 

it was a game you two liked to play: you making a remark about his advanced age, compared to yours, so he could willingly walk into that trap and prove himself to you, which always got you what you wanted, for example, one time when you made a comment about his knees being too weak when he got down in front of your chair after breakfast to give you head, which ended in him keeping you pinned to that chair until you´d come three times and had drenched his whole mouth, begging for him to go easy on you by the end, which had made him pull his head away, wipe his mouth all smug like “yeah, I think my knees work just fine, thanks for the concern though, baby”.

“such a tease” he said then, as he splayed his palm over your lower back and felt the heat there. “only for you” you murmured against his stomach, almost dozing off for a second there. “hmm damn right, all mine.. all mine..” he whispered in awe as he watched you, felt your weight on his body, thanked whichever version of God he was still capable of believing in that you´d been sent his way, that he got to have you like that, all to himself, throughout the harshest winters he´d ever known, his own personal sun, his source of light, his everything.

after ten more minutes of peaceful silence, he said “I´ll take that bath now, I think. only if you join, that is”. you got up and sat on the bed, caressed his arm and said “if you´re gonna wash my hair for me, then yes” giving him doe-eyes and rubbing his shoulder, which made him laugh “always, anything you need, princess. five more minutes though”. the last part was mumbled as he pulled you in, so you could sit on his legs and rest your head in the crook of his neck.

“ten.” you countered. “deal..” he whispered and rested his chin on your shoulder, eyes closed, relaxed, content, both of you melting into each other.

by that point it had started snowing again but you were blissfully unaware, not a care in the world about how cold it would be in the coming days or weeks or months until it would finally turn milder again, since you knew: we´ll keep each other warm. we´ll always come home to this. this endless source of life-affirming heat.