#Freaking imagine

[magicalcelestialgem]

I should do some TFP x BPJD crossover posts. TFP mainly because it’s the Transformers continuity I cannot seem to stop thinking & brainrotting about and BPJD… It’s the first Brave series I watched.

Maybe do a TFP x (insert other Transformers continuity here) x BPJD x MCB (Metal Cardbot)

My brain makes too much content for me to even draw or type. 😭

[laquilasse]

kay and edgeworth self defense class

[mischievous-thunder]

That's Wade ramming into the fourth wall full force

[alpali]

touch starved!tobio who gets so nervous around you. he’s an absolute fucking mess when you’re sat prettily on his lap, brushing his bangs out of his face.

“Are you sure this is okay Tobi?”

He hums, he can’t trust his voice right now. You smile at him and he thinks you have to be evil. You’re dangerously beautiful, every act of yours has him hypnotized and he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“I’m gonna kiss you okay?”

“Ok.” He whispers.

His lidded eyes close when your lips are on his. He stares at you for a bit then his eyes fall close. He’s honestly so overwhelmed right now.

The way your hands rake through his hair. Your lips feeling so soft and plump. How you’re sitting so perfectly on his co—

He squeezes your hips when you deliver a nip to his lip. He pulls away and stares at you a little bewildered. All flushed and pupils blown wide yet you grin at him.

You trail kisses down his cheek, jaw, focusing on his neck. He starts getting restless the longer your lips linger on his neck. He’s panting, squirming, his hands shaking.

“You feel good?” You breathe against his neck and he gasps, just eagerly nodding you. You giggle at his reaction.

So just to push him more, your tongue peaks out, gliding along his pale skin. He hisses, his hips stuttering, his grip growing tighter on your hips.

“You like that Tobi?” You wait for him to reply.

Once he finally gained the confidence to do so, you suck and suck on his Addams Apple the moment he tries to speak. It results in him letting out a guttural and breathy moan.

His mouth stayed agape, more broken whines leaving him until you feel just how warm his lap felt. Getting up from your seat on his clothed crotch, a wet patch covers his pants.

He’s beyond embarrassed but he’s still panting, an arm covering his red cheeks.

“I-I’m sorry. It just—it was to much.” He breathes out. He wears a pout, balling his fist on his pants. You laugh at his answer, pecking his cheek.

“That’s okay baby. Let me help you clean up.” You say as you’re already sinking to your knees. 

Poor baby.

He doesn’t know what’s coming.

[artificialchaoscola]

rivals.

[sceletaflores]

I COULD PLAY THE DOCTOR (I CAN CURE YOUR DISEASE)

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4.1k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, established relationship, logan's pov, written with origins!logan in mind, nat veering dangerously closer to a/b/o territory with every passing day, rut cycles, oral sex (fem!receiving), fingering (fem!receiving), multiple orgasms, gratuitous amounts of dirty talk, p in v, rough sex, biting, hair pulling, size kink, belly bulging, pussy pronouns, one (1) single use of the word daddy, scent kink, pain kink, breeding kink ofc, knotting (don’t look at me…), squirting, porn w/ plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: don’t look at me…i don’t know how many times i swore up and down i’d never write something like this but i’m a confirmed liar apparently so…here. i mean i just figured i'm in a rut artistically so therefore the only answer is writing logan in a rut physically...i can do what i want and i don't need to explain myself or my horny thoughts. also, i debated posting this in the wake of everything that's gone down over the past two days that is still escalating and will continue to escalate in the coming weeks, but i think everyone could use a little escape from how scary things may seem right now. take a break from all the terrifying news sites and read about logan wanting to breed you :) kisses!

divider by angel @saradika-graphics!

it's been another six months, and logan needs your help...

The burn starts on the walk home from work, a pulse of heat deep in Logan's gut that grows with every step.

It spreads slowly, sinking into his muscles and seeping up his spine as he rounds the last corner, your place less than a block away now.

It caught him off guard this time, an itch burying itself under his skin earlier in the day only to get worse and worse as he worked.

He usually knew the signs well enough to feel them start creeping in, and he was dead sure it wasn't for another few weeks.

Apparently, he was wrong.

Logan’s jaw clenches as he picks up his pace, every nerve ending in his body straining to break into a full blown sprint at the thought of you, all alone and waiting for him.

His fingers curl into tight fists, nails pressing into his palms to ground himself, though it’s hardly enough. The faint scent of you drifts up from his shirt, not even a long day at the lumberyard enough to drown it out.

By the time he reaches your door, his heartbeat is a heavy thud in his ears, syncing with the building ache of desire wracking through his body like the earth rattling boom of a raging thunder storm.

He fumbles through getting his key into the lock, hands unsteady as he tugs the door open with a little more force than necessary and finally steps inside.

The second he closes the door behind him, the heat surges, thrumming through his veins and flooding his chest. Your scent fills the air completely, stronger now, wrapping around him so thick and sweet.

"Darlin'?" His voice comes out rougher than he intends, but he's beyond caring.

Your voice floats from the other room, casual, warm enough to send a jolt through him. Logan drops his axe from his shoulder, leaning it against the door as he starts down the familiar path to your bedroom.

You're spread out on his side of the bed—oblivious, curled up with a book, wrapped in one of the flannels he must have left the last time he stayed over.

Just the sight of you does something to him, like a match dragged against a strike pad, damned on setting everything ablaze.

You glance up, and the soft smile on your lips falters as you catch sight of him.

Logan knows what he must look like, his eyes all dark and predatory, chest heaving as he rakes his hungry gaze over you like a wolf watches a lamb grazing too close to its den.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just stalks toward you with a purpose that’s as undeniable as the heat pouring off him in waves.

The book slips from your fingers, forgotten, as you lean back, the small sound of your breath hitching under the weight of his gaze is music to his ears.

Logan pauses at the edge of the bed, towering over you, letting himself drink in the way you look. So soft and serene, like some kind of invitation that begs him closer. His flannel draped loosely over your shoulders–shrouding you in his scent. 

The urge to pounce on you fights against his normal instinct to savor every second, to draw it out until the heat pooling in his gut becomes downright unbearable.

“Been thinkin’ about you all damn day,” he mutters, voice thick and dark as molasses, rough from restraint he’s quickly losing. His knuckles brush against your thigh, then tighten, holding you in place as he leans down, his breath hot against your neck. “Thinkin’ about what I was gonna when I finally got my hands on you.”

Your skin blooms with warmth beneath his touch, and he grins against your neck, the edge of his teeth grazing you just enough to make you squirm. He growls low in his throat, that itch he’s been fighting nearly all day clawing its way up to the surface with a vengeance.

The primal urge inside of him screaming to claim claim claim take take take mate mate mate breed breed breed.

You tilt your head to the side with a soft sigh, freeing up more space for him to nose along your skin. “Is it time?”

Logan's breath catches as your question hangs in the air, thick with anticipation. The soft simplicity of it ignites the wildfire burning in his gut, every ounce of restraint slipping away like sand through his fingers.

“Yeah, baby,” he growls, slipping his fingers under the worn cotton of your shorts, feeling the bare skin beneath. “It’s time.”

You shift, hands going to the buttons of his flannel like you’re going to take it off. Logan stops you, taking your wrists in his free hand.

“Don’t,” he breathes, shaking his head hard enough that his hair flows with it. “Leave it on.”

The thought of you covered in his scent, of his scent mixing with yours to claim you on a level only he can discern sends his mind buzzing.

You look up at him with those wide, trusting eyes, and something in him cracks wide open. The tenderness of your gaze pulls at him, like a tether pulling him back from the edge, but that heat still smolders in his blood, fierce and unyielding.

Logan runs his thumb along the racing pulse of your wrist before he drops them. His hands venture lower, fingers pressing against the inside of your thigh, tracing a deliberate path that makes your body tremble under his touch.

You let out a shuddering breath, the scent of your arousal swirling through the air is enough to make him crave more.

In one rough tug, Logan yanks you towards the edge of the bed as he falls to his knees. Your hips held tight in his hands as he lurches forward, burying his nose in the soft junction where your leg and inner thigh meet.

He inhales deep, greedy lungfuls of your scent. A guttural growl rumbles through his chest, his eyes screwing shut at the sheer amount of too much that courses through him. He feels dizzy with it, high on the pheromones pumping from you in waves.

You’re soaked already, the wet fabric of your shorts melded to the shape of your cunt. He can’t help but run his nose along the slick seam of you, reveling in the way your legs twitch on either side of his head, in the short gasp you let out.

“Logan.” Your voice is nothing but a mewl, pleading and desperate.

“Missed you,” he rasps, his voice rough, almost unrecognizable. The edge of need in him makes his hands shake, sliding up your thighs, urging them even further apart as he settles between them.

Logan’s fingers dig into your skin, he lets his thumbs brush up, hooking them into the waistband of your shorts to tug them down your legs in one sharp yank. He groans at the sight of you completely bare, no underwear.

“Fuck, look at you,” he grates, his thumb coming down to slip through your dripping cunt. Your hole flutters desperately around him, needy little clenches like it’s trying to suck him in. “She’s all ready for me, huh? Been waiting for me to come home and give her some attention?”

“Please,” you whimper, your voice thick with longing, the sound going straight to his head, clouding his thoughts. 

Logan’s pulse races as he watches your body arch instinctively toward his touch, the desperate need in your eyes igniting the raw urges coursing through him.

He can’t deny you; he never could. You’re a feast laid out before him, and he’s starving.

Logan leans closer, letting his tongue flick out to taste you like he’s wanted to since he left for work this morning. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, closing his eyes and losing himself in the moment. He licks a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit, savoring the way your body responds, the way your legs tremble and your hips twitch against his mouth, seeking more. “Tastes like fuckin’ heaven, sweetheart.”

The taste of you is intoxicating—sweet and tangy, flooding his senses with every drag and swirl of his tongue.

Logan can’t help but moan against you, the sound vibrating through your body as he dives deeper, his nose nudging against your slick entrance as he shakes his head back and forth like an animal—rubbing the plush skin of your inner thighs red and raw with each rough drag of his coarse beard.

Every flick of his tongue sends a shockwave through you, and he revels in the sounds you make—each whimper, each moan, a siren’s call urging him deeper. He laves his tongue around your clit, sucking it gently, pulling at it with his lips as you writhe beneath him, begging for more. 

He keeps your thighs spread wide, two strong hands pinning them to the mattress so he can devour you just the way you deserve, the sharp dig of your heels into his shoulders only spurs him on.

Your hands bury themselves in his hair, tugging him closer, and he groans into you, letting his tongue delve deeper, seeking out every bit of sweetness he can coax from you. 

It’s pure sin, each sound you make, each shiver that runs through you as he takes his time, drinking you down like a man starved. 

The ache in him intensifies, his own need growing, pulsing. He’s hard, has been hard since he walked through the front door.

His cock strains against the zipper of his jeans, need pulsing in time with each pump of his blood through his shaft, circling around the base, threatening to expand even without the tight grip of your pussy surrounding him. His hips jerk up on their own volition, desperate for any friction.

“Just like that, Logan,” you gasp, voice breathy and trembling with pleasure. 

The way you say his name—raw, desperate—makes his blood run hotter. He grips your thighs tighter, anchoring you to the bed as he drinks you in, wanting to lose himself in you completely.

Logan pulls away just long enough to catch his breath, looking up at you with lust-drunk eyes, drinking in the sight of your sweaty cheeks, your heavy-lidded gaze, the way your chest rises and falls with each shuddering breath.

The pulse of his cock intensifies, urging him to speed things along. The base desire of his own instincts is getting harder and harder to ignore under your adoring stare.

He feeds his fingers into your clenching hole with no warning, a satisfied smirk tugging his lips up at your sharp gasp. He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, the entire lower half of his face still shining with your essence.

Your cunt swallows him, two thick fingers sinking into the velvety heat like it’s nothing.

Logan groans as he feels you clench around him, your walls fluttering and drawing him in deeper. “That’s it, baby,” he mutters, his voice hoarse with need. “So fuckin’ ready for me, so ready for daddy’s fingers in your pussy.”

Your mouth drops open in another devastatingly desperate noise, your hands twist his hair roughly, soft breasts rising and falling each time you gasp for air. The dim light of the sunset filters in through the blinds, highlighting the curves of your body, slick and shining with a thin sheen of sweat.

Every clench of your walls around his fingers shoots a thrill straight to his cock, making him ache with the urge to bury himself inside you. The overwhelming need to take you completely, to mark you and fill you, pulses through his veins until he feels like he might explode.

But he’s not done tasting you yet. Not until you’re practically dripping onto the sheets.

He lowers his mouth back to your core, sucking your clit into his mouth as his fingers pump faster. The sudden intensity makes your thighs shake around his head, and he grins against you. He wants to see you fall apart—wants to feel it.

“Logan—please, I…” You can barely get the words out, voice breaking as your whole body strains against him, desperate and needy.

The wet slap of his palm against your spit soaked cunt is loud in the quiet of your bedroom, blending with the loud keens that fall from your parted lips. He crooks his fingers, rubbing at that soft, spongy spot inside of you.

“Come on,” he mutters, slick lips brushing against your clit as he speaks. “Give it to me, baby. Show me you're ready for my cock."

He drags the sharp edge of his canine against your pulsing clit with barely any pressure, and you're coming.

Your whole body tenses, back bowing off the mattress as you let out a broken cry of his name. The bite of your nails digging into his scalp feels harsh enough to draw blood, a feeble attempt at grounding yourself against the onslaught of pleasure. 

Your trembling thighs tighten around his shoulders, gripping him like a vice as your shaking cunt gushes around his fingers. Logan groans at the feeling, eyes slipping shut as you drench his wrist and chin in your juices.

Even then, he doesn’t let up, fingers pumping relentlessly as he draws out every pulse, every aftershock of your climax, every tiny spray of your release splashing against his wrist. 

He’s lost in the feel of you—slick and trembling under his hands, the scent of your release filling his lungs, thick and intoxicating.

You slump back against the bed, body limp and spent. His own need is a driving, aching force now, clawing at his insides, demanding more.

He slips his fingers free from your dripping heat, dragging them through the wetness coating his chin as he licks them clean with a growl, savoring every taste.

“Good girl,” he purrs, voice thick with pride and satisfaction as he pulls back, leaving your thighs twitching in the wake of his touch. But he still isn’t finished. Not even close.

You barely have time to catch your breath before Logan crawls up the bed, his eyes locked on you, pupils blown with need. He looms over you, hands planting on either side of your head. His cock grinds against you through the rough denim, and you can feel just how thick and hard he is, throbbing through the fabric, demanding to be freed.

With a low groan, he shifts his hips, dragging his bulge along your soaked cunt, sending another jolt of pleasure racing through you. His hands are all over you, gripping your waist, hot and possessive.

“Feel that?” he asks, pressing his lips the wild flutter of your pulse, the need to sink his teeth in the soft skin of your neck raises the hair on the back of his neck. “That’s what you do to me baby. Got me hard as a fuckin’ rock, just aching to be inside you.”

Your arms circle his shoulders, clawing at the fabric off his shirt. “Need you inside me, Logan. Please, want it so bad.”

The pure need lacing your words, your scent calling out to him, the way he can feel the front of his jeans getting soaked through with the slick pouring from your cunt all pull him deeper into the recesses of his hind-brain. 

The mounting desperation to stuff you full of his cock finally reaches a fever pitch.

With a deep growl, Logan rears back as far as he can bear, just enough to tear his shirt over his head before he fumbles with the heavy buckle of his belt to free his aching cock.

He shoves his jeans down, boxers quickly following until there’s nothing separating him from the cool air of your bedroom. His cock springs free, hot and flushed an angry red color, drooling from the tip enough that it drips down to stain the pretty floral sheets of your bed.

Your eyes zero in on him, mouth dropping open at the sight. His cock so heavy it doesn’t curve upward to slap against his stomach, instead it hangs down to sway between his thighs as he moves closer. 

Your legs spread as he nears, slick covered thighs parting to make room for him to slot between them. So obedient, so good, so well trained.

Logan takes himself in his hand, nearly wincing at the blazing temperature of his skin. He secures his hand around the base, squeezing where his knot threatens to pop before he’s even got in you.

He slips the angry head through the folds of your cunt, slapping it against your clit with a wet ‘thwack’ sound. He can feel the way it twitches and shakes, just as desperate as him.

“Look at that,” he mutters darkly, eyes glued to where he’s laid his cock flat against your stomach, leaking pre-come all over your soft skin. “How’s it gonna fit, baby?” He shifts his hips, sawing his length back and forth to see just how deep in you he’ll be.

Your glassy eyes drop, a broken moan passing through your slack lips when you take in the sight. Your hips rise off the bed, grinding your cunt along the seam of his heavy balls, along the prominent vein trailing up the underside.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Logan grits out, eyes hooded and dark as he watches you grind against him. “You’re gonna take it all. Gonna make you feel every last fuckin’ bit of me.”

He groans, gritting his teeth as he presses in further, each inch a battle against the tight, molten heat that grips him like a vice. Your body shudders as he fills you, your slick warmth pulling him deeper and deeper, and he sinks down until he’s fully seated, his hips flush with yours. 

The pressure is mind-numbing, your walls clenching around him in rhythmic pulses that make his vision blur. He stills for just a second, savoring the way your body stretches around him, hugging him in a way that feels like it was made for him alone.

Logan watches your face as you adjust to the stretch, your brows pinched together, each breath coming fast and shallow, your eyes glazed with pleasure.

Then, your hands come to his shoulders, nails digging little crescent moons into his skin as you nod your head, ready.

It’s all the confirmation he needs. His hips pull back before he slams in again, the force of it jolting your whole body. He presses his forehead to your shoulder, teeth bared as he muffles a snarl against your skin.

Logan thrusts again, and again, and again, hips setting a merciless pace as he watches the way your breasts bounce with each thrust, each little shudder.

His mouth waters with the need to taste, to sink his teeth into your supple skin hard enough to pierce clean through, hard enough to scar.

Sweat drips down the length of his spine, across his brow. It mats down the hair scattered over his chest, his dog tags slick with it when they bounce off his skin with each thrust. The grip of his hands tightens on your hips, it’s taking everything in him to hold back and yet he knows you’ll still bruise tomorrow. 

Pretty hues of dark purples and yellows in the shape of his fingers, ones he’ll catch you admiring in the bathroom mirror, pressing your own fingertips into them to feel the dull ache—to remember this moment.

“Made for this, aren’t you?” he rasps, his voice dark and possessive. “Made to take me, to be mine.”

The words barely leave his mouth before he’s bending down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your cries as he drives into you, pushing you both closer to that sweet edge.

“Fuck, Logan,” you gasp, breaking the kiss as your body trembles under him. “Can–ah!–can feel you in my stomach…”

Your hand drops from his shoulder, slipping between your bodies to rest over the sweaty expanse of your belly. Logan’s eyes follow your path, a feral growl bursting from his chest before he can stop it.

He’s transfixed by it, sure that if he pressed his hand to the soft skin of your lower stomach right over your own, that he’d feel it. Feel the way his cock punches up against your insides, so deep it's like he’s rearranging your guts to make room.

“Fuck.” His voice is nothing but a gravelly rumble, hoarse and dark as midnight. His hips speed up impossibly faster, chasing the feeling of your clenching walls choking the length of his cock so tight he thinks it might snap off at the base.

The flimsy headboard of your bed slams against the wall, creaky mattress springs screaming under his ministrations.

You feel like salvation, like the first rays of light after too many years spent in the dark.

He feels it with each kiss of his cock against your cervix, in the way your lips fit in the junction of his neck, in the red welts your nails leave on the skin of his back. He feels alive, truly alive, for the first time in decades.

“Say my name,” he grates, his hand cupping the back of your neck, coaxing you to look up at him, lips close enough to taste the heat radiating from his skin. “Tell me who you belong to.”

"Logan," you gasp, your voice breathy, edged with desperation as he pushes you closer to the brink. "Yours. Only yours."

A broken, shaky noise falls from his lips as he buries his face in your neck. He mouths at your skin desperately, presses his nose to where your scent is the strongest. 

Flashes of his release spraying your insides play behind his closed eyes, thoughts of drenching you so thoroughly that it has to take only forcing his hips to slam against the rippling muscle of your ass like you have your own magnetic pull. He feels it building, the slow swell of his knot presses against your folds, ready to burst.

“Come on, honey,” he begs, thumb coming down to rub slow circles over your slick clit. “Come with me, soak my cock. Show me how much you love it, how much you love me.”

Pathetic little uh uh uh’s fall from you with every thrust, broken up only by the breathy whines of his name as he pounds into you hard enough to push your body higher up the mattress. Finally, with a loud roar, he stuffs his growing knot inside of your cunt. 

Logan’s teeth sink into your neck before he can even think twice about it, the thick spray of his come filling you as his hands pull your hips down even further over his cock. He needs to be as deep in you as possible, to press forward until he can’t anymore, until his aching balls are flush with your gushing cunt.

He watches with rapt attention as you come with a loud wail, just from the feeling of his knot slotting into place. The clamp of your thighs over his hips is nearly as tight as the way your cunt seizes around him like it’s scared he’ll leave.

He groans at the over stimulation of your cunt milking his cock. Your slick leaks around the base of him, your shaking hole plugged so full it can only slip along the creamy ring to splash weakly against his thighs and hips.

Logan licks along the spot where his teeth pierced your skin, planting one last kiss before he’s taking you in his arms and rolling onto his back atop the mattress. The plush comforter sticks to his skin, your own sweaty body slipping against his as he tries his best to not jostle you too much while keeping you stuffed full of his cock.

He holds you to his chest until your breathing evens out, until your body stops trembling on top of his, until you’re nosing along the column of his neck.

“Logan?” Your voice is tiny, hoarse and scratchy. He feels your hand drawing absent minded shapes along the skin of his stomach. A circle, a star, a figure eight, a heart.

“Yeah baby?” he says, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, eyes slipping shut at the content feeling that spreads through him.

“Love you,” you murmur, voice soft but sure, the words slipping out without hesitation.

It’s the first time you’ve said it today, and hearing those three words from you sends warmth flooding through him.

Logan shifts slightly, pulling you even closer, his hand moving to the back of your head, cradling you with a kind of tenderness he used to think he’d never be capable of. “I love you too, darlin’. More than you know.”

Your body relaxes against him, the lingering effects of your shared intimacy still buzzing through your limbs, but now there’s a sense of peace, of safety, and a deeper connection.

He can feel the way your fingers curl lightly against his skin, the quiet smile that must be tugging at your lips as you press a kiss to the side of his neck.

And in that moment, with everything settled around him, Logan knows that this, right here, is everything.

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

[unsanctitude]

ATTENTION - do you recognize this 🐑

[yakovski]

Stupid fuckin soppy wet cat

[whimsyvixen]

Fantasizing about being a pleasure slave to a yautja.

[bruisedboys]

thinking about lazy makeouts with joaquín torres…

it’s late afternoon on a saturday and joaquín’s finally got a weekend with nothing on his schedule. no missions with sam out of town, no important meetings that he can’t get out of. just an entire weekend with nothing to do but love on you.

you’ve put a film on but neither of you are paying attention anymore. it started with joaquín’s hand on your thigh, thumb rubbing slow circles into your sweatpants. when his hand climbed higher and the tips of his fingers pushed inwards, you quit pretending you were paying any attention to the movie and instead twisted to look at him. he was already looking back at you, eyes flickering to your lips and back up again. you leaned closer, a wordless invitation, and then he was kissing you.

soft and slow, no expectations, his grip on your thigh is warm and strong. his kisses are open mouthed from the beginning — all languid and sticky, the glide of the tip of his tongue against your bottom lip. the pressure of his kissing parts your lips and you’re sighing into his mouth like you can’t help yourself. it’s not long before he tugs on your thigh, bringing his other hand to curve around your opposite hip.

“c’mere,” he murmurs softly, big palm spreading over your hip to pull you into his lap with ease, not even a grunt spared as he easily pulls your body on top of his. you let yourself be guided, let him adjust you how he wants in your lap.

your hands drag up his forearms to rest on his biceps and he sets both his hands on your hips. your shirt rides up around his wrists, his fingers pressing into your skin with a lovely sort of pressure. he doesn’t kiss you again, just looks at you, the warm afternoon sun painting his skin a pretty shade of gold.

“what?” you ask, feeling fondness like an ache all over. and joaquín just shrugs, “nothing. just like looking at you, baby,” he says.

after that you let him take the lead, every fibre in your body too heavy with fondness to do much of the leading yourself. he kisses you so slow it borders on agonising, tilting his head to the side for better access, his mouth warm and sticky on yours, his tongue sliding against yours languidly. you let yourself be kissed, content to feel the strong, thick muscle of his arms under your hands, to hear his soft moan when you push your fingers up the back of his neck and into his hair. he kisses you until you’re breathless and the film plays the end credits, and then some.

[pascalsailor]

ROUGH COMFORT

BFD!JOEL MILLER x F!READER

SUMMARY : you should be hurt, heartbroken, even that after such a good relationship your boyfriend has turned into a grade-a piece of shit. Yet you just couldn’t find it in you to be all that upset, specifically because an unexpected comfort comes in the form of his father, Joel miller, and his rough hands.

WARNINGS : infidelity (mutual, DONT DO IT), age gap (readers in her 20’s, joel’s approaching 50), morally conflicted!joel (kinda), smut!!, having to be quiet, unprotected p in v (BREEDING!), morning sex, honestly fluffy, kinda size kink, theyre lowkey in their own little world, fingering, mostly readers pov, regular smut especially for my page but, enjoy:)!!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You hadn’t slept this peacefully in months.

The stress of whatever had been going on between you and Jacob had left you with endless, restless nights. So this was a big change — one that only seemed to happen on the rare occasion you fell asleep in the same bed as Joel Miller. That, and the mind-fogging orgasms from the night before.

The large western Airbnb, tucked away on slightly isolated land, created an atmosphere that calmed you. It stripped away the weight of everything with Jacob and just let you be.

Just be you and Joel — for the night at least.

Now here you were, bare bodies tucked under a thin sheet. His thick arm was draped over your skin — warm, heavy, and comforting — as his steady breaths fanned the back of your neck. Your face was buried partially in the pillow, sleep slowly starting to slip away.

The sheer, lace-like white curtains did nothing to block the sun, now beginning to beam across your face as you took your first slow blinks into consciousness.

Your body automatically shifted more onto your stomach, face pressing into the pillow as a slight stretch pushed its way into your joints.

Only as you went to move again you felt his arm tighten around your waist, tugging you back into him with a playful nip to your shoulder.

“Mm, you tryin’ to run off before I get my good mornin’ kiss?” Joel drawled against your skin, voice thick with sleep and smug satisfaction. “That’s rude, sweetheart.”

Your face shifted toward him, taking a moment to study the ruggedly handsome features so close to you. A shy smile graced your lips.

“Wasn’t running,” you huffed, eyes flickering over his face. “Just didn’t wanna wake the grumpy old man clingin’ to me.” You teased, fighting off a grin.

Joel squinted at you smugly. “Hmm.”

He leaned in slowly, letting his nose brush against yours before pressing his lips to your soft ones.

A gentle kiss — warm, easy, and willfully ignorant.

As if the two of you weren’t lying there naked together… while his son — your boyfriend (albeit a piece of shit) — slept drunkenly just a room over.

He could feel your soft grin into the kiss — a kiss that lingered longer than it should have. Soft, slow, but heavy with remnants of something neither of you dared name.

Something the two of you had delved into deeply, yet still left unnamed — a secret only shared in these moments of willful ignorance.

Joel’s hand slid up your side, fingers brushing the curve of your waist. His touch lingered, roamed, like he’d already memorized every inch of you but still needed the reminder.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes half-lidded and unreadable.

You blinked up at him, raising a light, delicate finger to trace his stubbled jaw. Joel leaned into the touch, his gaze scanning your face like it held every answer he was too afraid to ask for.

“You sure you weren’t runnin’?” he murmured, voice low and rough now — like gravel soaked in honey. Buried beneath it, though, was fear. Fear that you’d finally realize just how fucked up he was.

Falling into something deeper than a fling — with his son’s girlfriend. He should’ve been disgusted with himself.

But when your expression shifted — soft, knowing, yours — he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Your fingers slid into his curls, grayer than they used to be, a quiet smile playing at your lips.

“We both know I wouldn’t get far,” you muttered, voice barely above a whisper.

That made him smirk — and then he was on you again, mouth firmer this time, hands bolder, like he’d been holding back since the second he opened his eyes.

His kiss deepened with an unspoken desperation — not rushed, but intense. Like he was trying to memorize you all over again, tongue sliding against yours with slow purpose.

You reciprocated, spewing the intensity of whatever was going on between you two without saying a single word.

His hand roamed up your back, fingers tracing the line of your spine before tangling gently into your hair, coaxing you to shift closer, onto your side. His body pressed against yours — skin warm, chest rising and falling in rhythm with your own.

He kissed you like he had all the time in the world. Like no one else existed — not even the boy passed out one room away.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he murmured between kisses, lips brushing yours as he spoke. “Every time you look at me like that…” he didn’t need to finish his sentence for you to know what he was going to say.

I forget I’m not supposed to touch you. Not like this.

You were just as guilty. Every time Joel looked at you like that, the rest of the world disappeared. It was just the two of you — messy, wrong, and inevitable.

You swallowed hard, the air thick with heat, guilt, and want. “Then don’t stop,” you whispered, voice trembling just slightly, hand buried in the side of his graying curls as you settled fully on your back beneath him.

Joel stilled for a beat — then exhaled, slow and heavy. His chest ached in that same warm, welcomed, gut-punch way it always did when you reminded him that you too wanted this. In a way that seemed more than lustful.

“Wasn’t plannin’ on it.”

Joel dipped his head again, kissing you slower this time — but deeper, more deliberate.

Your hand tightened slightly in his hair as you kissed him back with same, aching deliberation — not just giving, but meeting him.

Matching every press of his mouth with your own need, your own quiet confession.

The two of you pulled back as he shifted above you, a slight smirk on his face as you blinked up at him with raising suspicion.

Thumb running over the slight saliva under his lips, wiping some of it away while you squinted in him. “What’s that look?” You muttered and Joel’s eyebrows raised as innocently as a man like him could get.

“Dunno what you mean, sweetheart.” He muttered as his head dipped lower, nose grazing your cheek as his other hand grabbed onto the thin sheet covering you.

“Y’know,” he murmured, dragging his nose along your cheek, “I used to think you were shy. Thought maybe I scared you a little.” He teased as he began to strip away the sheet, your body trembling momentarily at the act.

You scoffed, breath hitching as he suddenly jerked the sheet away. Hand sliding up your leg teasingly. “You definitely didn’t scare me.” It wasn’t a total lie, when you first met him you were intimidated — but more so from the intensity of what you felt when you met him for the first time.

He smirked, his voice low and warm as he pressed a chaste kiss against your pulse point. “No?” He inquired as his hand cupped your knee.

Subconsciously you adjusted, legs spreading to make room for him in between. “Even when I’ve got you all spread out like this?” He asked, eyes falling on your perfectly spread folds.

Slick beginning to make itself known and he couldn’t help the smug look he shared with you. “Please,” you breathed out, body shuddering and nipples hardening as his hand began to trace a line towards your inner thigh.

A teasing game of skimming back and forth watching the goosebumps rise on your soft skin. “The only thing I’m scared of is how much you think you can handle.” A let out something mixed between a yelp and a giggle as he lightly smacked the inside of your thigh.

His head dipped into the junction of your neck, grazing the skin with his teeth, before moving lower. He grinned up at you as you shuddered when he skimmed across your chest — a light tug on the swell of your breasts. “Oh, baby, I don’t think. I know.”

He assured as you felt his hand get closer and closer to your know, aching and dripping cunt. Your back arching in an attempt to get him there faster - but he just gave you that same look and pulled his hand back an inch.

“But I’m more than happy to let you find out for yourself.” Without waiting for a response he finally let his fingers slip through your slick, his fingers coated in it from the brief swipe.

Your hips jerking from the slight friction and you let out a little whine. “Joel.” You whispered looking up at him in desperation, the man glancing down at you with faux confusion.

“S’matter baby?” You tilted your hips towards his hand but he just grinned down at you while adjusting himself so one of his legs held one of yours down.

His body on the side of you now as his hand began feather light grazes against your weeping cunt. “Need something?” He mused as your head turned, needy breaths fanning his neck as your glazed over eyes pleaded with him,

“Please,” you whimpered, fighting to keep your voice steady, “need you, want you.” He chuckled, low and satisfied, though the admission made him give up on the drawn out teasing and shorten it more than he planned.

“Yeah?” He cooed, head dipping down as you nodded and he finally let his fingers — firm and heavy glide through your folds. Capturing your lips in a raw, needy kiss.

Full of tongue and his teeth grazing your lower lip as he swallowed the sound you made as his fingers bumped your clit, once, twice before a small but loud enough noise that his gaze snapped up to yours.

Eyes dark with warning but lips still curved in that maddening smirk. “Uh-uh,” he murmured, voice low against your ear. “S’much as I love to hear you cry my name baby, Gotta be quiet remember?”

You nodded, hand wrapping around his large bicep as best as you could for something to ground you. “Walls are thin, baby. You want him hearin’ how good I make you feel?” You’re breathing hitched and you shook your head slightly.

Head tilting to look up at him and you pressed a harsh kiss to his lips making the corners of his lips twitch upwards.

“Then you’re gonna have to be a good girl for me,” he whispered, “and keep those pretty sounds to yourself.” You bit your lip hard, nodding, your hips twitching toward his hand.

Joel smeared your leaking arousal over your clit once more before sliding his two fingers towards your painfully empty hole — your thoughts trembling slightly.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, pleased, almost reverent — like he wasn’t just touching you, but owning every second of it. “Nice ‘n quiet while I ruin you.” You let out a far quieter whimper, sucking in a breath as he pushed in slightly.

A small dip in before pulling both of his fingers out, eyes flickering between the enchanting sight between your legs and the expression on your face that made his erection far more painful.

Your nails dug into his arm as he swirled his fingers around, your chest heaving before you sucked in a sharp breath as he pushed in. You’d had his cock multiple times the previous night — but it wasn’t as often enough to make even his fingers not sting just a bit.

Joel gauged your reaction, the faces you made when he’d give into you — it always had him right at the line of nearly making him cum without you even touching him.

His fingers pushed in, welcomed by warmth and slick, your walls holding onto him tight. Scissoring his fingers slightly he began to slowly pump his fingers, small gasps leaving your lips and he took pity on you.

He knew you really were trying to be quiet.

“That what you needed? Hm?” Joel asked, head dipped down to skim his nose along your jaw. He felt your head nod shakily as your hand slid up to his shoulder, trailing down his face to pull him towards you.

Eyes following his lips in silent questioning, he eased you further into the mattress as he pressed his lips to yours. Swallowing the moan you let out as his thumb fell onto your swollen and slick bundle of nerves — Joel himself letting out a grunt as you bit down on his bottom lip.

You pulled back trying to catch a steady rhythm of breath as he began to curl his fingers in that spot he knew made your thighs tremble. “Doin’ so good f’me sweetheart. So good.” He spoke against your lips.

The praise making you whimper, thighs twitching to shut but his own leg prevented you from doing so. His fingers pushed at a particularly sensitive point inside of you and your hips canted mouth parting.

The fire had already been sparking in your gut, but as his fingers rubbed and pushed against that spot you felt it begin to ignite — already pleading to spread. Your hips beginning to try and find the pace of his fingers to release the building pressure.

Joel knew, whether from the way your walls tightened to the point where he could barely move his fingers — or from the pinched expression you made. Either way his fingers began to slow and you nearly cried out but bit down harshly on your lip to stop the reaction.

You felt his lips against your temple as he slowly began to slip his fingers from your dripping core. “I know sweetheart, I know. But I wanna feel you fall apart on my cock.”

You nodded watching as he shuffled between your legs, his cock girthy, long and in aching pain. Beads of pre-cum dripping down the prominent veins — it was a mouth watering sight.

“Want it Joel, want you. Please.” You breathed out, welcoming the warmth of him soft and large on top of you. His painfully hard cock sliding against your sensitive cunt, your hips twitching and a soft mewl leaving your lips.

“Yeah?” he murmured, voice low and thick with tension as his lips brushed yours while he guided his cock through your folds. Coating it in your copious amounts of arousal before teasing you a moment by tapping your clit with this heavy tip mailing you gasp.

“That desperate for me, baby?” His hand dropped his heavy erection, letting it sit pretty against your cunt. Moving his hand down and he gripped your thigh, holding you open for him.

You squirmed beneath him and huffed. “I’m not the only one.” Your eyes moved down, eyes glazing over at the sight between you both and he let out a breathy chuckle.

“Don’t worry sweetheart.” He hummed, guiding his tip between your folds, down, down, until it caught the slight dip where your hole was. Desperate and clenching around nothing — always willing and eager for him.

“Gonna give it to you, baby’. Gonna fuck you just how you need. Make you feel every inch of me.” He promised, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips as your hand found his that was wrapped around your thigh holding you open.

His hand let go of your thigh, letting it fall open as he intertwined his fingers with yours. “Look at’er all ready for me. Y’ready baby?” You nodded eagerly and he smirked smugly, hand tightening around yours as he began to sink inside of you.

Thick tip plugging you full already and you let out a shaky gasp, Joel letting out a soft moan. “Always feel so good.” He praised sinking in, inch, by inch, until you were stuffed full of him.

“Fuckin made for me, aren’t you baby?” Joel muttered, eyes flickering across your face, lips parted but the rest of your face pure bliss. “Only you.” You agreed breathlessly.

Joel’s face pinched, and he pulled back — almost pulling out fully. “Say it again.” He grunted, eyes swallowed by his pupils at the admission. “I’m made for you Joel, only y-mgh.” You were cut short by Joel shoving his cock back inside of you.

The feeling of his thrusts, not to rough, enough to let you feel the thick vein that ran along the side of his cock rub against your walls. A feeling that made your toes curl and back arch.

You were panting, fighting everything in you so you wouldn’t let the noises out. A cry fighting its way to the tip of your tongue and it seemed Joel sensed it as he grasped your own lips in a harsh kiss.

His hips ground into yours while his cock plunged in and out, a lewd squelch being one of the main noises in the room. His hips tilted, smirking against your lips when he felt you cry out against his lips.

He pulled back, leaning back slightly to glance at the way your needy cunt swallowed his cock. Creamy rings of arousal coating his base as he continued to push until the hilt.

Joel glanced at your face, your eyes already on his and the hand that was holding yours let go so he could grab your wrist. Broken, quiet moans escaping you when he thrusted particularly hard — tip pushing a spot inside of you that made you blank.

“Feel that?” You blinked watching as Joel dragged your palm towards your lower belly, pressing down slightly and you could feel the rise of flesh each time he thrusted. Nodding you peered up at him with glossy and glazed eyes.

Nothing could’ve really prepared you for the feeling of him pushing down on it, the feeling making your thighs tremble — eyes watering as he leaned over you. “Let me all the way in here.” He hummed in satisfaction. “Think I should fill’er up as a reward?”

He watched you nod rapidly and he tsked. “That’s dirty baby, lettin’ me pump you full’a my cum?” His voice was distant, your other hand scrambling for purchase on his shoulder.

“Keep it deep inside while you walk around actin like it’s not there?” You found yourself nodding, legs wrapping around his waist to pull him deeper. “Y-mhm.”

“Can’t speak? Tell me. Tell me sweetheart, y’gonna let me pump you full?” Joel went on, hips smacking against yours and you felt a tightening in your belly. Like a coil, rapid and heated. Your walls beginning to tighten against his cock at the words he spoke though distant in your foggy mind.

Joel gripped your chin in his hands, shaking slightly. “Hey, hey- there she is.” He cooed as you blinked rapidly for a moment. Eyes focusing on him. “I want you to f-agh-fill me up. Please”. Your voice trembled, but the weight of your words made Joel believe you.

“My sweet girl likes that doesn’t she?” He pushed your damp hair from your forehead. Pressing a kiss against your lips while you nodded. You hadn’t felt his thumb slip lower until you felt it press heavy against your Clit and you let out something akin to a silent sob.

“Joel-“ you whined, back arching as he practically whimpered at the feeling of being nearly trapped inside of your sopping cunt from how tight it gripped him. “Gonna cum -fuck, hm? I can feel’er grippin me tight.”

You nodded, mouth parted in trying to catch a breath while your head lolled to the side and your lips pressed against his arm. “I’m- gonna- fuckfuckfuck.” You cried, unable to hold it as he continued to angle himself to a point where your thighs shook and your hips twitched.

“Come for me baby, wanna feel you.” A tight, coiling pressure had been building low in your belly, and with every grind of his hips, every filthy word he rasped into your ear, it crept closer—hot and uncontrollable.

Then it snapped.

The orgasm hit you in a crashing wave, stealing the breath right out of your lungs. Your back arched off the bed, toes curling as white heat spread through your entire being. Trembling and vision blank as he continued to fuck you through it — the squelch loud and lewd in a way that added to your feeling pleasure.

You couldn’t stop the sounds spilling from your mouth—raw, wrecked, needy. Keeping them as quiet as you could, Joel’s lips hovering incase you were a bit too loud. Pleasure pulsed through every nerve ending, sharp and overwhelming, until all you could do was cling to him, fingers digging into his arms like an anchor.

Joel held you through it, whispering, “That’s it, that’s my girl. I gotcha — just like that.” Your body trembled in sensitivity, Joel’s hips faltering at the feeling of you coming undone around him — chafing his name like a prayer as you clung to him.

You felt the tension coil tight in every muscle of his body — arms trembling where they caged you in, jaw clenched as a low, guttural groan rumbled from his chest.

Your eyes on him as his eyes squeezed shut, before his forehead pressed against yours and he pushed in deep and held — buried to the hilt as the first wave of his release tore through him.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” he choked out, voice ragged, like he was unraveling in your hands. His cock pulsed inside you, his hands tightening around you as you too trembled at the feeling of thick spurts of warmth began to fill you.

His lips finding yours as he thrust, once, twice more before staying there. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders urging him down and he rested his head on your boobs, hands caressing your hips as you both panted.

He looked up at you when you tapped his forehead, and he watched a shit-eating grin splay across your face. “You were talkin’ a lotta shit earlier. Think I handled you just fine.”

“Handled me? Baby’, I was holdin’ back.” He teased, nipping at your boob playfully and you let out a giggle.

Pulling his face up to yours you placed a soft kiss on his lips, one, then another, until a third kiss was interrupted—his body still on top of yours, his breathing heavy. The kiss faltered, and both of you froze.

“Dad!! Have you seen the fuckin advil?!”

[mischievous-thunder]

Wade's inability to keep his sinful thoughts in check

[bruisedfig]

simon riley does the knee thing when you makeout so you can rub yourself on his thick muscly thigh send tweet

[hejee]

sister…that’s a bit 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂

[keferon]

So. I went online and bought this Transformers generations Blurr toy and holy shit nothing prepared me for the lore on the back of it’s box o_o

Also every time Blurr gets to be a sniper my soul ascends a little bit~

+ Bonus doodles

[obsesssedblerd]

“Oh, Nanaminnnn!” 

At the familiar, cheery voice, Kento looks up to see no one other than Satoru Gojo, leaning against the doorframe of his office with his usual grin. “Saw with my Six Eyes that you came to fill out those reports here instead of doing it from home. Been so long since you showed your face here and—” He cuts himself off with an excited gasp, then walks closer as his smile grows wider. “You brought my little mochi!”

In Kento’s left arm, his daughter—who had woken up from her nap about ten minutes ago—coos excitedly when Satoru enters her vision, reaching her hands towards him. “Well, hello there, sweetheart! I was wondering when I’d see you again!” He slides his hands under her plush arms, then picks her up, skillfully—and safely, Kento notes—holding her in his arms. Tiny hands brush against Satoru’s blindfold, and he lifts it so his niece can see his blue eyes. They immediately soften when the baby girl laughs when he gently tickles her tummy. 

It’s so cute that Kento can’t stop the corner of his mouth from lifting. 

“Wait—Did I hear that right?! Nanamin’s here?!” 

“Itadori, wait for us!” 

“Kugisaki, you dropped your bag—Oh, come on, guys, slow down!” 

Rapid footsteps approach, then the three first years appear at the door, gasping in unison. 

“Oh, my gosh!” Yuuji, the pink-haired teenager shouts as he points at the baby in Satoru’s arms. “Nanamin, when did you have a baby?!” 

Nobara’s question comes a split-second after Yuuji’s is finished. “Is that why [Y/L/N]-sensei quit a while ago?!” 

Megumi walks to stand beside Satoru to analyze the little bundle in his teacher’s arms. “She’s… adorable.” He mumbles, gently smiling when she wraps her hand around his finger. “Very adorable. She has [Y/L/N]-sensei’s laugh.”

“Isn’t she just so precious?” Satoru asks, proudly showing her off to the first years. “So sweet and friendly, just like her Uncle Gojo.” 

“Hopefully she won’t be as reckless as you,” Kento says as he holds his hands out, and Satoru returns his daughter to him. “[Y/N] and I already believe that she’ll be the exact opposite of me.” 

Yuuji sits beside Kento to get a closer look at her. “She’s so cute. How old is she, Nanamin?” 

“Four months as of yesterday.” 

Nobara crosses her arms and pouts. “How come only he knew?” She asks, gesturing to Satoru. 

“Well, when I had to go away on a long mission, she was only a month old,” Kento explains. “He kept an eye on her and [Y/N] for me; made sure that they were both safe. I’m very grateful. We had plans to tell you about our daughter soon.” 

“Where is she now?” Megumi asks. 

“At home. I wanted her to have the morning and most of the afternoon to herself. I’ll be heading back shortly.” 

Satoru and the students share similar looks with each other, and Kento knows what they want to ask. He pulls out his phone and dials your number. “Hi, baby,” you greet when the line connects, “how’s our girl?” 

“Hi, love. She’s amazing, as always,” he says as he looks down, playfully poking the little one’s nose. “I’m with Gojo and our students. They want to know if it’s alright to come and see you.” 

“We’ll cook dinner if you’re too tired!” Nobara chimes in hopefully.

“Actually, better yet, I can just order something for everyone,” Satoru suggests. 

“And we’ll clean up,” Yuuji and Megumi say at the same time. 

You laugh, then answer Kento, “That’s more than alright. Bring them here.” 

“Thought you’d say that. See you in a bit.” 

“Yes!” Yuuji cheers. “Alright, I’m gonna ride with Nanamin so I can sit next to the baby!” 

Nobara glares at him. “Not if I get to the car first!!” 

When they sprint out the door, Megumi groans before rushing after them. “Didn’t I just tell you guys to slow down? We’re going to the same place!” 

Satoru laughs, then waits for Kento to finish up so they can walk out together. 

—

there was an ask in my inbox requesting a cute drabble for dad! nanami ft. gojo (as a trusted friend of his) and the first years, but it disappeared. hope u like it, anon <3