#and right is a canon thot

[emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago]

okay hear me out on this one. I’m seeing König as like a young detlef schrempf. He’s German (I know König is Austrian but hush for now) he’s 6’10” and I feel like the features fit him so yes for now that is my face canon I might do some sketches later 😀 stay tuned

like idk I can see it

[batterygarden]

Dilf Denji with his hair tied into a lazy ponytail and him watching TV with the kids, he's the type of dad to be into sports just a bit but I feel like he has way more fun doing typically "girly" thing if he has a daughter

He'll let her paint his nails and put bright red lipstick on hi, looking at you and ask if he's pretty while trying to smear the red lipstick over your face

PLS Denji literally is a canon girl dad!! It’s one of my favorite things I can’t wait for the manga to explore it more…. I just know he’s so good at it 💘. & letting her paint his nails and do his makeup is so so real and cute. Fujimoto draw Denji w painted nails WHEN

[maipareshaan]

Soullessnatural

Soulless Sam realising Cas loves Dean vs Meg!Sam taunting Jo, hmm

[endlessthxxghts]

Solace

Din Djarin/The Mandalorian x afab!reader || W/C: 4.3k

Summary: You help Din release his frustrations after he comes back from a weeklong hunt.

Content/Warnings: Canon divergent around season 3 (no Grogu here; one tiny reference to Living Waters). Reader is able-bodied, but there are no specific physical descriptions. Pet names for both reader and Din (fem pet names for reader). Implied established relationship (you've seen his face and call him Din) - THEY'RE IN LOVE. Reader knows a bit of Mando'a. Helmet comes off. 18+ MDNI. This is 100% porn. Boot riding...blanket..riding...(there's a lot of riding lolz). Multiple orgasms. Cunnilingus. Din is a talker when his mouth isn't occupied. Blow job/face fucking. Unprotected P in V sex. Reader is on whatever form of birth control they have in space LMAO, so #twinkie time😋. Hints of a breeding kink. Praise kink (lots of it). Switch BDSM dynamics. Soft Dom!Din along with subby/desperate!Din. Sub!Reader and soft Dom!Reader. Please let me know if I missed anything! Xx

A/N: First picture was made by @djarin-desires, and honestly, this whole oneshot was inspired by this post they made! I literally could not stop thinking about these pictures all day, so I just had to write my ✨thots✨ down. I hope you enjoy!! Other two photos are found on Pinterest - middle does not represent anything about reader’s physical appearance.

masterlist || notif blog

“Oh, shit-” you gasp. “Din, please,” eyes rolling back in pleasure, your body shivering in its nakedness compared to his fully armored form. 

“What is it, sweet girl?” he coos, his fingers caressing your cheekbone, pushing the hair from your eyes. 

“Need- stars- need more,” you cry out, your current situation proving to only bring you to the edge, but not carry you off of it. 

“One more like this, cyar’ika, then I’ll give you what you want,” Din reassures you, his leather-clad thumb running across your bottom lip, hooking himself in your mouth for you to make a mess of. “I wanna see that boot soaked, you hear me?”

Din always gets like this when he comes back from a weeklong bounty hunt. He gets hard. Dominating. In need of control. To take back the situation that got out of hand. 

You were sitting on the ground cleaning one of his blasters when he came in. He was tense. Weirdly quiet. He’s always quiet, but not with you, not for a few years now. He threw the bounty into the carbon and froze him, his chest plate rising with every breath. You knew him well enough now to know when he’s seething, and this was it. 

“Din?” you called out softly. 

He just points his helmet at you, the visor staring you down. 

“Everything okay?”

“What do you think?” He responds rather harshly.

“...Din,” you whisper, feeling every ounce of anger in those four words.

You like how it ends in these situations, though. It always ends with him a whimpering mess beneath you. There’s usually some kind of switch. He takes a third orgasm out of you, and always on the third, he becomes needy. Desperate. He just wants to be inside of you. To be balls deep and stay there, to release all of his tension while being wrapped up in you. 

You’re his solace. His warmth. His home. He always needs you. But right now, he needs his control back, so even though it’s you who’s in control by the end of the night, you stay prettily on your knees and obey dutifully. 

“I hear you, Din,” you struggle to get out with his thumb holding your tongue down, drool spilling from the corners of your mouth. 

Your thighs are on fire from your constant back and forth motion, the squelch of your slick rubbing across his shoe sending blood straight to his groin. He can feel himself itching to make you rise, to spread your legs and split you open until he can’t hold himself up anymore. But he knows you’re close even though you whine and plea for more. He knows your tells—the way your eyes struggle to stay open, the sweat beading at your temples, the way you slowly start to clamp down harder and harder on his thumb. His personal favorite, though, he discovered in this new position, is the way you start hugging tighter onto his leg, your chest rubbing against his thigh plate in an attempt to cool yourself off, but you’re just so close, the cool beskar doing nothing to ease the heat. 

“Just like that, pretty girl, come on,” Din groans, the sight before him truly testing his strength. You two have done many things together, but this? This is something new, and Din isn’t sure how long he can last. “I know you can give me one more, baby. Just one more, and then I get to feel you, come on,” he pleads, voice bubbling up into a whine. 

Oh, he’s starting to break, already? 

The thought is what sends you over, your hips stuttering in their rhythm as your arousal pours out of you, your clit shooting a sharp sensation up your spine at the sensitivity. “Dank farrik, you’re so damn gorgeous when you cum all over me, baby, so so gorgeous,” he pulls his thumb out and spreads your drool across your mouth, cradling your cheek softly in his palm as you shake in his grasp.

“Oh, fuck- oh yes, yesyesyes, Din,” you sob, head falling back between your shoulder blades. 

“Oh, my sweet girl, Maker, you’re so beautiful,” he coos, leaning down to let the forehead of his helmet rest against yours, your hot breath fogging his visor. He smiles to himself as his vision blurs momentarily. 

Din’s hands situate themselves beneath your armpits, pulling you up to your feet and supporting you as you allow your limp legs to gain their strength again. “Can I taste you, cyar’ika?” He asks as he wraps his arms around your waist, guiding you to sit on the armory crate in the corner of the hull. 

“Thought you said you wanted to feel me?” you retort, a small smirk forming on your flushed face. 

“Yeah,” he says as he drops down to his knees. “My tongue goes first.” Even with his helmet on, you can still hear the shit-eating grin with his comment. 

Din reaches for his helmet, the hiss of air signifying it’s about to come off never fails to cause butterflies to erupt in your belly. The minute his chocolate brown eyes meet yours, your heart grows two sizes greater. Your hands reach for his face. “There’s my pretty boy,” you whisper. 

His heart nearly jumps out of his chest at your words. He turns his head to kiss your palm. “My pretty girl,” he responds, bashful. “Lean back, baby.” You lay yourself back, body resting against the metal wall as his hands settle underneath you. 

Din brings himself forward, the flat of his tongue starting at the bottom of you and licking upwards—slowly, thoughtfully, calculated. He takes his time moving through your soaked folds, as if he’s mapping it out for the first time even though he’s mapped your body more times than the amount of bounties under his belt. 

The way you moan under his touch has him groaning into you, his fingers tightening their hold, his face more flush against you. He can’t get enough. His licks turn less controlled and more hungry; he uses his lips to help rub the surrounding area as he suckles every part of you he can, drinking you in, bathing in your slick as if to reclaim himself, as he did not too long ago in the Living Waters of Mandalore. His nose nudges your sensitivity as his tongue claims your entrance, the softness of your walls dancing with the softness of his tongue makes you breathless. 

Your fingers find their way into his curls, grabbing on in an attempt to ground yourself, to keep your soul beside him as he brings you to the brink of ecstasy for the fourth time since he’s been back. You whimper in distaste as his tongue leaves your hole, but the disappointment is quickly replaced by a whimper of desperation when his mouth wraps around your throbbing bud and he sucks. “Just- oh, fuck, Din- just like that,” you let out, your hips involuntarily lifting to buck into his face.

He’s quick to bring his mouth back down to your entrance, licking up every drop of the sweet nectar you always keep him full with. His nose massages your bundle as he drinks from you, and the action prolongs your climax and syrupy moans; Din works to pull as much as he possibly can from you. It’s been a week of rations and shitty meals he can sneak. So when such a delicacy is placed before him, solely for his taking, oh, he’s not going to waste a single drop. 

By the time he’s satisfied, the bottom half of his face is covered in your shine, the armory crate’s ledge is soaked, and you’re completely blissed out—face flushed and sweaty, tired eyes, a weak smile… to the average eye, you appear properly satiated. Although, Din knows that you are far from it.

“You alright, sweet girl?” Din asks, rising to his full height again. He brings his hand out for you to take, pulling you up to stand. Delaying your answer, you wrap your hands around his neck and pull him in for a messy, open-mouthed kiss, all tongue with your flavor embedded in each and every one of his taste buds. You moan into the kiss, pulling away with a bite to his plump bottom lip. “Perfect, baby,” you smile, pulling him to the makeshift bed—a pile of blankets—in the hull that you two sleep in. 

You drop yourself down onto your knees, beginning to work his armor off from his legs as he starts on his shoulders. With you helping, he’s down to his flight suit in no time, and your mouth salivates at the sight. As soon as the last clink of the precious metal leaves his body, you’re leaning your face into him, into his bulge, pressing sweet little kisses to its covered form. You can hear Din’s breath hitch, his cock twitching under your touch. “Need you in my mouth, Din,” you say as you look up at him, his eyes already hooded over at the sight of your mouth near his length. “My turn to taste you, huh, pretty boy?” You ask in a teasing tone, his face too hot to register that you’re waiting for a response from him. 

He finally registers the question when your hand dips into his bottoms, his hardness meeting your hand eagerly. You look at him expectantly. 

Although technically it’s his cock’s turn to feel you, he cannot bring himself to deny you or your skillful mouth. He cannot bring himself to deny anything you want, really. “Y-yeah- yes, baby, your turn,” he says shakily, the anticipation putting his body into sensitivity overdrive. 

He helps rip the rest of his flight suit off, and without giving him a second to breathe, you’re already spitting in your palm and working the length of him the way you know he loves. You use your mouth in tandem, your tongue licking from his base to his tip, and instantly, a loud whimper comes from the back of Din’s throat at this particular touch. 

You’re delighted by his reaction, so you repeat the motion a few more times to pull more of those sweet sounds out. “My baby is so sensitive here, isn’t he?” You pump him with your hand as you speak, placing a wet kiss to his tip when the foreskin pulls back to expose it. 

“Kriff…” he moans, his head suddenly too heavy to maintain upright. “Mesh’la, please,” Din begs. 

With one more kiss to the tip, you stop your hand’s movement completely. “Please what, baby? Use those words, honey,” you look up at him, eyes wide and full of promises to please—as soon as he vocalizes what he wants. 

His chest is heaving already at the sight of you, on your knees and looking up at him again, yet this time around, you’re the one calling the shots. 

He prefers it this way, he thinks. Sure, he comes back from a particularly frustrating hunt and ends up taking his stress out on you. Sure, it’s the most beautiful sight seeing you so worked up and at his mercy. But he is always the one in the driver seat—calculating everyone’s every turn, every action before they even have the chance to act. Din’s mind is always active, always alert. Yet, when you have him like this, in this yielding state, it’s like his mind gets to be quiet. With you, under your touch and under your gaze, Din is able to exist in your presence without a worry. He’s finally able to just be. Not a bounty hunter, not the big and tough Mandalorian everyone fears. No, he’s Din. Your Din. Your sweet boy. Yours. And that’s the greatest honor to ever bestow upon him. At least, that’s how he sees it anyway. 

“Y-your mouth, mesh’la, p-please,” he says softly. Your eyebrow quirks up. You want just a little bit more. “Want your- need your mouth on me, baby, please,” he breathes out, attempting and failing to ease the neediness in his voice. 

You hum triumphantly before you begin pumping him again, your hand focusing on his base while your mouth lavishes his leaking head. You swirl your tongue around, the salty flavor of him quick to override your senses, and Din lets out a strangled moan, his hips softly bucking in your grasp. 

Your hand releases him, letting your mouth take full control. You grab onto his thick thighs for stability, breathing through your nose as you let the tip of him reach as far back as you can handle. He gasps when he hits the back of your throat, the twitch of his body triggering your gag reflex, your throat tightening in on where he’s most sensitive. “Oh, fuck,” he grunts, fighting his hips to stay in place and let you do your thing. 

You garble something incoherent, humming into his cock as you pull yourself on and off of him a few more times. Pulling back for a small breather, you use your finger to collect up the spit-arousal mixture from the sides of your mouth and pump it on his erection, his hips twitching once again at your ministrations. 

You know what he really wants right now, but with his head in cloud nine, you know he’ll never ask for it himself. “You wanna fuck my mouth, Din?” You ask bluntly. 

His entire face and chest turn red faster than the speed of light. He sputters in his response. “I- oh my Maker, mesh’la, is that- are- are you sure? I-”

You cut him off by leaning in to kiss his thigh. He softens in your touch. “Din, pretty boy, it’s a yes or no. One word. Choose.” 

“Yes,” he replies, not a single hesitation in sight. 

“Good boy,” you purr. “See what happens when you say what you want from me?”

You shift yourself to a more comfortable position sitting on your haunches, fluffing the blankets underneath you to soften the ache of the metal floor. You look up to Din who’s watching you eagerly but with a softness that tells you to take all your time in the world. Doing this isn’t just for him, though. Letting him take control of you here turns you on just as much as it does him, maybe even more. 

You take one more glance into his thirsty eyes, and, well, okay… maybe he enjoys this slightly more. Nonetheless, you don’t take your time because you can feel the butterflies in your core beginning to flap once again as Din brings himself closer to you, lining himself up with your mouth.

“Don’t waste this opportunity, Djarin. Better use me good, yeah?” You tease, leaning your head back slightly as you stick your salivating tongue flat out, waiting for him to enter. 

His entire body shivers at your words. “Yes, ma’am,” he says under his breath, focusing on easing himself into your mouth as steady as possible, trying to maintain some ounce of self-restraint he’s inevitably going to lose. 

Once his tip is in your mouth, his hands find their home rooted at the base of your air, his thumb reaching forward to caress the apple of your cheeks. He doesn’t move at first, apprehensive in the case he might hurt you. He’s always like this at the beginning, and every single time, you reassure him it’s okay. 

You let out a muffled mhm, his signal to keep going. Din’s fingers flex, guiding your head further in as his hips slowly meet you halfway. He’s holding his breath, you can tell in the way his belly twitches. But the moment your swallow reflex triggers around him, he’s gone. “Oh, shit-” he moans ragged, his hips never fully retreating before he’s bucking into you again. “Oh, sweet girl, fuck-” he gasps. “Always so perfect, feel so perfect around me, stars, baby-” he praises, his hips moving at a comfortable, steady pace now. 

You moan around him, eyes rolling back at how good and heavy he feels coasting the expanse of your tongue. Your spit drips further down your chin and neck with each thrust, the messiness of it all mirroring itself between your thighs. Your hands leave the expanse of your thighs and reach for the blankets underneath you. As best as you can, you shuffle them in between you, using it to grind your hips on it, giving you a much needed relief. The material catches on your clit deliciously, pulling a muffled gasp from your throat, sending the sensation up Din’s spine. 

“Oh, fuck, look at you,” he groans, his eyes fighting to stay open at the raw pleasure coursing through his veins as he starts thrusting into you harder, faster. “So pretty, baby, fuck- thank you, pretty girl,” he rambles. “Maker, you feel so damn good.” 

Your moans and whines don’t stop, they reverberate off each metal wall and into his ears, providing him with the sweetest song. Din, ever the talker, is long lost in the way you feel and the way you move. 

“Keep moving those hips, sweet girl, rub that pretty pussy on our blankets, baby.” 

“Gonna cum like that again, baby? Gonna make a mess where we sleep?” 

“Shit, gonna make me lick it up and clean it? Please make me clean it, baby,” he whines, his hips beginning to falter. 

The last thing he says to you is what sends you over the edge, your fingers gripping the blankets below you, bringing it flush against your core as if it were Din’s curls you’re hanging onto. Your hips speed up, chasing the orgasm that is just right there, and with one last thrust forward, you’re cumming. You’re breathing heavily through your nose, tears streaming down your face as you whimper around his dick, begging for the one thing you know he’s not gonna give you. 

With a few more thrusts, you can feel his cock start to twitch, and just as you suspected, he pulls out of you before he can finish. 

“Baby, no,” you cry, leaning yourself forward, chasing after him. Right away, he’s dropping down to his knees, hands still on either side of your face as he’s finally eye level with you. 

“Baby, cyar’ika, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please,” he repents, his chest rising and falling heavily, still out of breath from edging himself. “I just- I didn’t- I… I wanted to cum somewhere else, baby,” his voice falls quieter, shyer. 

Your scowl fades, forming into a more mischievous demeanor, more hungry. You can’t quite argue his reasoning. Because, you, too, would very much like him to finish… elsewhere. “Yeah, baby?” You taunt. “And where do you wanna cum, sweet boy?”

He swallows thickly, his needy eyes on yours, blacked with a ferality he’s addicted to. “In- inside,” he whispers. 

“Inside?” you’re quick to repeat. “Wanna cum inside me, sweet boy? Fill me up? I’ve made so many messes today, is it your turn to make one, baby?”

He leans in to meet your kiss, but you pull away slightly. Answer me, your face tells him. 

“Y-yeah- yes, stars, yes- fuck- please, baby, I wanna cum inside you, wanna make a mess of you so fucking bad, please-” he starts to answer. Satisfied, you cut him off with your lips on his.

You wrap your arms around his neck, lips never breaking the seal, you pull him over you as you lay yourself down on your guys’ bed, scooting farther up for your head to reach a pillow, your back barely missing your puddle of arousal. Din multitasks, grabbing one of the other near pillows and placing it underneath your hips as your body lands on the ground. Your legs are already hooked onto his waist, not giving him the space to stray too far. 

Once you’re settled, Din’s hand is cradling the back of your head while the other reaches for his cock, covered in your wetness and leaking with his own arousal. He guides himself to you, running his tip along your slick folds, stopping to tap on your clit before bringing himself back down to your entrance. He breaks the kiss when he does this, his eyes laser focused on where you two connect. His hand on the back of your head pushes to angle you down, so you can watch, too, both of you observing and listening to the lewdness of it all. 

Finally, his head catches at your entrance, pushing himself in slowly. He’s always a stretch, always something you’ll never quite really get used to, but you love the feeling. Obsessed, even. There are some days where you rile him up on purpose just so he gives it to you, no preparation or foreplay. On those days, he has you screaming, your fingernails digging deep into his back to tether yourself to reality in some kind of way. On his softer days, you have to beg him to, reassure him that it doesn’t hurt—in a bad way. 

As soon as he’s seated all the way to the hilt, he pulls back out entirely before he thrusts back in. You both moan out at the action, your pussy immediately releasing a fresh new wave of arousal around him. “Oh, fuck,” you both mutter at the same time, your eyes meet, and a euphoric smile graces each of your faces. 

“Y-you feel so good, baby, s-so fucking big,” you mewl, your hands tightening their hold around his neck, both the tips of your noses kissing each other. 

“It’s like you were made- fuck-” he stutters, his hips slowing for a brief moment, allowing himself to really feel you. “It’s like I was made for you,” he corrects himself. “I was made for you,” he says again, leaning in to slot his lips against yours.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum,” you say against his lips. I love you. “And I was made for you,” you squeak out, your head bobbing back and forth as the pleasure brings your mind further and further into space. 

“Shit, mesh’la,” he grits between his teeth. His hips speed up at that, loving the way his native tongue sounds on yours. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum,” he repeats back to you. “I’m yours, cyar’ika. Yours,” he murmurs, his head crashing into the crook of your neck and shoulder, sucking and biting at the sweaty flesh. 

He sits up on his haunches for a second, hooking the crook of his elbows into your knees before leaning back over you—the angle allowing him to hit so deep and allowing his pubic area to stimulate your pulsing nerve with every thrust in—you scream out as he repeatedly makes you feel things that no one has ever been able to do, not even yourself. 

“Din,” you keen, his name leaving your mouth like a sinful prayer. “Din, baby, please, I think I’m gonna- fuck-”

“Gonna cum again for me, pretty girl?” He smirks. “Fuck, I’m never gonna stop saying this- you’re so fucking perfect. Come on, baby, cum for me, fucking soak me. Soak me before I make you fucking overflow with me, my sweet girl,” he snarls, his lips meeting yours in a bruising kiss, truly a dance of tongue and spit as he fucks into you at the same pace that brought you to yet another climax. 

Your hands yank on his fluffy curls, back arching into his body as much as this restricting angle allows you to. “Din, oh my-! Fuck- so fucking good, fuck-” you wail out, your heart beating out of your chest as your pussy pulses around his cock, making an utter mess between your two lower halves. 

The flutter of you and the instant wetness consuming him is what sends Din to his finish line. He continues thrusting, shakily, through his own orgasm, his load coating every inch of you, both inside and out. You wanted a mess, so he truly gave you a mess. 

He releases the hold on your legs to wrap his arms around you, his entire body flush against yours as your legs wrap themselves tightly around him again. He’s still inside you, his hips softly still moving in and out as he leaves kisses all along your lips, your jawline, your neck. 

The way you feel, full of him and him, has your hips meeting his small advances, both of you reveling in the aftershock of your highs as you use the pleasure to ease you back down. 

“You okay, mesh’la?” Din asks eventually when you both come to an exhausted, satiated halt. 

“Perfect, my sweet boy,” you smile, repeating your sentiment from earlier. “You okay, though?” You ask hesitantly, and not about what you two just did together. He brings his lips to yours. Soft, and not in a way to arouse you again. In a way that says thank you and I love you in a way spoken tongue will never be able to convey.

“I will be,” he answers truthfully. “Pick a planet, you can pick me apart after we get food.”

“Sounds like a deal, baby.”

“Come, let’s get cleaned up.” He kisses your forehead before he untangles himself and pulls you up to your feet as well, both of you making your way to the refresher. 

In the corner of his eye, he sees his now semi-shiny boot, starting to dry off in the midst of everything else you two did. He smirks to himself. 

You catch it, of course. “What’re you smiling at, Djarin?”

“Nothing,” he says nonchalantly. “Just… I clean my armor and boots after every bounty.”

“And?” You ask, still not realizing where he’s headed. 

“I don’t know if I wanna clean my boots anymore.”

Your eyebrows raise to the middle of your forehead, eyes bulging out of your face. “Din!” you slap his chest. Then, your face goes stern. “You will be cleaning those boots more often if you want me to do that again."

Oh. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

End notes:

Thank you so much for reading, I really hope you guys enjoyed this one! Please let me know what you guys think, I really love hearing your guys’ reactions and feedback!🫶

Also, did y’all clock how many orgasms reader had in this damn thing?! Coochie of fucking steel fr 😭😭

Moon divider by @saradika-graphics 🩶

@pedrostories

[toji-sweetheart]

I'm having

Thoughts

(or maybe I'm just a thot 🤭)

It's ovulation week and your men Toji and Shiu are going to town on you, trying to wear you out so all of you can sleep. They usually don't have any trouble satisfying you, it's usually one in each hole, cum thrice (on your part) and they're done.

But this week, you're still going strong riding on top of Toji and Shiu at your back thrusting into your ass. Neither could remember how many times you've all came, but they do know you're wearing down both of their (legendary) stamina. A look between them communicates lots and Shiu's reaching over to slip his phone out of his pants pocket and dial a number he never thought he would ever have to use. (Which had you whining because he had to slip out of you to do this, but he slipped himself right back in once he grabbed his phone.)

Shiu using one of his big hands to cover your mouth while the phone rings, both of them still thrusting into you. It would definitely be obvious to whomever is on the other line what was happening when they pick up.

"Well, well, well. Wasn't expecting you to be the one to call first." You could hear the smirk through the phone, but the voice didn't sound familiar to you. You didn't care who it was as long as your men didn't stop fucking you so deliciously.

"Listen, I'm only gonna say this once and this will be the only time I will ever offer it. You and your little six eyed freak, come to this address and help us take care of our girl. We all have a truce until she's satisfied." The line was quiet and you knew they could definitely hear the sounds of the slick through the line.

"Can't take care of your woman and have to call in backup, huh? That's pretty pathetic." Another cocky voice piped in. A moment of silence before they both answered from the other line.

"We're in." The line went dead You could see Toji smirk under you as he reached a hand up to bring you down by your neck to kiss him.

"Better prepare yourself pretty girl, you're about to have more dicks and orgasms than you can handle."

(Listen, maybe I'm just ovulating and I want a train ran on me by Toji, Shiu, Satoru and Suguru 🥵🫠 I'm sorry, I had to share.)

18+ only content - mdni

NEVER AND I MEAN NEVER EVER APOLOGIZE FOR SENDING ME THESE BECAUSE I AM OVULATING AS WELL JNN ALSO 6 EYED FREAK SENT ME LMAOOO I READ THIS IN PUBLIC TOO WITH MY LEGS CROSSED ALSO I KNOW I DON'T WRITE CANON JJK BUT WHAT IF THE READER WAS HIT BY A SEX POLLEN FROM A CURSED SPIRIT WHICH IS WHY SHE'S LIKE THIS?!

Neither man knew what to do at first when you still weren't satisfied after your fourth orgasm, the bedroom smelt like sweat and sex.

It was a mess where the three of you were connected, spit and cum mixed together creating a sticky substance. You whined when they even stopped for a fraction of a second and ground down on them.

When Shiu pulled out you almost cried, pouting with big wet puppy dog eyes feeling the loss of him, then he thrust back in covering your mouth but you didn't even care feeling full once more, a muffled thank you vibrating against his palm as you rode him and Toji.

Hearing Shiu talk on the phone as he was balls deep inside you made your pussy clamp around Toji making him groan as he palmed your tits knowing who his counterpart was talking to, they were going to give you more than you wanted or bargained for.

Suguru and Satoru could hear you whining for more, you needed it or you swore you were going to die, despite your muscles aching you felt like your pussy was going to explode if you didn't cum again.

Your head snapped back at Shiu who smirked rubbing your back. "Don't worry sweetheart, we're taking real good care of you."

There was no time to answer when Toji pulled you down for a heated messy kiss, his promise made your skin prickle with heat and your cunt to flutter around him with excitement at the prospect of it.

Toji and Shiu were tired, even though they didn't do a lot of work because you were taking what you needed anyway so they had hoped that four men could wear you down to sleep.

What you weren't expecting was Satoru and Suguru to show up twenty minutes, their eyes focused on you, sweaty and fucked out in between their co-workers. "Can't keep your woman happy?" Satoru purred coming to the side of the bed to pet your head gently.

"Shut the fuck up, and help or go home." Toji warned him, his cock felt raw and sensitive and he was certain neither him nor Shiu could cum again.

You looked at Satoru when your husbands pulled out making you gasp and quiver, pushing out a fat glob of pearly cum from both holes making an even bigger mess on the sheets. "Please! Please!"

All four men watched as you rolled to your back spreading your legs to rub your swollen clit feeling hot to the touch. It didn't take long for Satoru to take Toji's spot and Suguru to take Shiu's position.

They fucked you with slow deep strokes that made you cry out. "No coming in her, if you do I'll rip your dicks off," Toji told them as he and Shiu sat on the bed watching you ride two other men with no care in the world, your brain was too fried to think of anything else.

You really had no idea how long it lasted which was hours before Suguru and Satoru called it quits themselves unable to last any longer only to hear you cry that you need more.

Maybe it's time to call Sukuna in?

[toxicanonymity]

the narrative.

4.7k, darkish!Javi Gutierrez x f!reader

"Control the narrative. You probably say that when you cum." - Roman Roy, Succession, s1 e1. PREMISE: Javi is in the middle of a publicity disaster due to his illegal activities and big mouth. Enter you (and he will). Penthouse vibe and attire inspired by Justified City Primeval. WARNINGS: I8+ ONE SHOT, dark(ish?) Javi, canon-typical lack of realism, drug references, gratuitous bulge, alcohol, praise, mention of someone sucking Javi's dick in the past, unprofessional behavior, power dynamics, pressure, DUBCON unsafe p in v (etc.), mild gun play, romance. A/N: Dedicated to @noxturnalpascal 🖤 Never thought I'd start the year with this guy, but thots happened. I only have one other Javi G. fic.

When you show up to Javi's home in the Hollywood hills, you're mildly surprised the car is stopping. It looks like any other skyrise. It's not his main residence, but he has the whole top floor to himself. You’ve refreshed yourself on the task during the ride – Javi Gutierrez is a PR nightmare lately, and he needs to be reminded how to handle press, especially questions about his recent run-ins with the law and ties to his family business. You'll run through a few practice questions with him, refresh him on the way to his event, and say goodbye. It should be simple. 

On your way into Javi’s building, the concierge greets you, then makes polite conversation as he escorts you to the penthouse. 

"Mr. Gutierrez already has company," he mentions as he uses a key card then holds the door open for you. 

You step into Javi’s apartment and the door closes behind you. It feels intrusive, just showing up in his personal space without someone to introduce you.  It's quiet for a moment, and you take in the opulence -- the sky high ceilings, the glittery floor sparkling under your modest wedge heels. You adjust your little black dress and fix your hair, then stand and wait with your bag.

You take a deep, calming breath. At least this isn’t a celebrity you have a crush on. He isn’t necessarily your type. He seems like such a teddy bear. He’ll be cool. He’s down to earth, you tell yourself, but can’t think of any evidence to support that claim. What kind of company does he have, you wonder. Is it a woman?

"One more, one more," Javi begs out of view, and your breath hitches at his voice. It's not the pitch or measured cadence you hear in the movies or even interviews. It's deep, gruff, and unpolished. "One more, Nick." 

Your heart jumps at the name. 

Nick sighs. "Alright, what are we drinking to?"

"Balas y drogas," Javi booms. (Bullets and drugs). "Brindemos" (cheers). 

"As always," Nick monotones, and you hear their glasses clink. A few seconds later, boots begin to click and echo, and they're coming in your direction. 

Entranced by the sparkle of the floor, you see a pair of snakeskin boots cross in front of you first. The boots pause, and your gaze pans up over his unexpectedly bare legs, which are muscular and only slightly hairy. Your eyes continue up over the swell of his thighs, and then–by the time you see it, it’s too late not to look right at it--a generous bulge under a blue striped swimsuit. You yank your eyes upward so fast, you almost don't see the gold pistol he’s holding at his side. Javi raises an empty highball glass, gestures it toward you, and you're studying the rings his hand when he complains, "You are early." He taps a ring on the glass and looks around behind you. “They sent you alone?”

“Yes, Mr. Gutierrez.” You introduce yourself. When you speak, he holds surprisingly warm eye contact, given his opening line. It feels like he’s really seeing you, maybe even connecting with you. 

“Please, call me Javi.” He walks around the counter and makes no effort to close his silk robe, trailing behind him.  "Make yourself a drink," he nods toward a wet bar behind him as he puts his glass in the sink. His curls are a mess, but he doesn't look bad. His strong chest glistens under his gold chain.  "Make Nick something, too. NICK--" 

"I'm right here, Javi. I really have to go." Nick greets you with an unenthused nod, "Hi,” then his phone rings and he quickly bids farewell to Javi: "I'll see ya later bud." Nick slowly staggers toward the door as he answers the phone. 

-

As the door closes behind Nick, Javi watches your face. "He has a key, you know. He'll be back," then he again urges you toward the wet bar, slightly more politely this time.  "Please, help yourself.  Why did they send you so early?"

"I'm an hour late," you tell him. His security team stalled you because he wasn’t ready.

He looks at his gold watch. "Mierda" (Shit). He meets your gaze again with apologetic eyes. "An hour late. . . maybe I do like you. . ."  The third time he refers you to the bar, you go around the counter and at least browse his liquor selection. 

A few minutes later, you're mindlessly reading the liquor bottles when you see a reflection in a bottle of mezcal. Something moves behind you.

"Tequila," Javi murmurs a few inches from your ear. “If you cannot decide.” You stiffen but manage not to jump, or so you think. "Relax, mamacita.” A large, warm hand comes to your bare shoulder, making your chest get hot. Javi’s lips brush the shell of your ear. “Relax,” he repeats. “It is only Javi.” He smells faintly of pipe or hookah smoke.

He lingers for a moment, smells your hair, then his hand trails down your bicep, and butterflies rush through your body so fast you have to step away.  He looks only slightly bemused. He checks you out even more obviously this time, then silently walks backwards through the kitchen, and you forget not to stare. You follow the way the light highlights his little belly. His happy trail leads you right to the slight swing and jiggle of the massive lump precariously contained by that swimsuit. How much of it is balls, you wonder. And at that moment, he reaches down to adjust himself before turning around and heading to his bedroom. 

Your face is on fire, and you’re tingling down South. You pour yourself a drink. You need one. The floor-to-ceiling windows offer quite a view of the city. It feels like Javi is taking a long time. In the distance, he begins to sing. You didn’t expect to be attracted to him, but now you have this feeling in your chest, like you’re waiting for a date with someone you like. Someone you’re still getting to know. You try to brush it off and not read too much into the look in his eyes. He’s an actor. He probably knows how to make people feel special, you remind yourself, but you can’t help but feel a little giddy as you wait. 

You take a seat on his velvet sectional. You sip your drink and begin to feel more confident. When you go to put your drink down on the nearest coffee table, there isn't much space amid the array of empty bottles and glasses, and a hookah. You set your drink on a silver tray, and only then do you realize you've disrupted the geometric residue of tiny white lines. “Shit,” you whisper. 

While Javi gets ready, you read some of his past quotes to the press. It messes with your head. Sure, he was rude to you at first, but then so warm. There’s one particular quote you’re stuck on. It isn’t too hard to imagine him saying something like this. You catch yourself feeling sad about it, not because it was so rude of him, but because of the insinuation of him with another woman.  In your mind, you know this feeling is irrational after having only interacted with Javi for only a moment. You have to compose yourself into professional mode again. 

—-

Javi returns freshly showered, wearing slacks and a patterned, long-sleeve, button-up shirt that hugs his biceps. He checks you out as he fastens his last cuff link. Then he sucks in his stomach and tucks in his shirt by shoving his hands all the way into his pants. He keeps eye contact with you as he tucks in the front, and finishes it off with a subtle cup of his balls. Then he stands normally again, and the curve of his little belly presses against the shirt above his pants. He doesn't put on a belt. He gestures for you to walk in front of him. 

Javi stays close on the way downstairs. On the elevator, you can feel his breath on your cheek. When the doors open, his hand on your back ushers you out. The soft padding of his stomach grazes your arm.

—-

Back outside Javi’s apartment, the car you arrived in – the one that picked you up at the Dobis PR office – is gone. You’ll ride in Javi’s car. His security team wants to accompany the two of you in the vehicle, and it’s clear they normally ride with Javi. But Javi convinces them to follow in another car this time. Just this once. You get into a black Mercedes sprinter outfitted with a raised roof, big leather bench seat, and a bar. 

As you settle into the van, Javi is making sure you’re comfortable, making small talk, and you just want to chat with him, but you do have a job to do. He’s sitting in the corner of the bench in the very back of the van, and you’re next to him, with your body mostly facing him. You begin to broach the topic at hand, distracted by his closeness and the aftershave molecules wafting into your nostrils. “Okay Javi, so, I’m familiar with your, uh, difficulties with law enforcement recently, and my role here is to kinda help you help yourself with that in the press.”  

He nods. 

“So let’s start where we are. Do you remember what you said when Page Six asked for a comment?”

He briefly leans in the opposite direction from you to open the minifridge. He pulls out a bottle of champagne. “Page Six, remind me which one is that.”

Is he going to make you say it? Fine. “You don't remember telling the writer her lips were made to suck your dick?” 

“That was out of context,” he mutters. You search his face for whether it‘s a joke, but he’s not laughing, and he’s not meeting your eyes.  

You ask, “Is there a context where that’s a good comment to make?” And you hope it lands softer than it sounds to your own ears. 

“Yes,” Javi nods and brushes a curl out of his forehead. He shifts in the seat and wrings his hand around the neck of the champagne bottle in his lap. “With a cock in her mouth.” Hearing the word cock in his voice gives you a zing of arousal. 

You’re at a loss for words. “Are you saying you weren't answering a question when you said that?”

“The conversation was over,” Javi nods. 

“--And she had your–”

“My cock, yes,” he confirms. “In her mouth.” He reads your face, then shrugs. “She wanted a taste of Javi, and I am afraid I could not resist.” Your mind is going places - How did that happen, you wonder. Did she just drop to her knees? Does it happen all the time? Could you have a taste of Javi? Do you want one? No, you don’t want to be just another girl.

You and Javi look at each other for a moment, neither of you completely focused, then you say the only thing you can think to say, “Fair enough,” as you close your folio. Then you can’t help but add, “Optimally, it's not the best idea to sleep with. . . certain people . . .who can make you look bad.” The thought falls apart as you watch his face, and you wonder if you're overstepping. 

“It was only a mouth,” Javi clarifies, then lowers his voice. “I would never make the love to her.” 

Now his eyes are fixed on your lips. His mind is going places. You watch him salivate over the shape of your mouth and don’t dare to interrupt his filthy train of thought. But that bulge in his swim trunks is seared in your mind. The subtle way it moved with each step. You have to stare at anything else to keep your eyes off his pants. You look at the bits of silver in his beard and the sparkle in his eyes

“Hm?” he asks and you snap out of your trance. 

“We need to control the narrative,” you mumble, as if you're thinking about work. 

“I don’t have a narrative, I have the truth. And the truth is too dangerous, mami.” He extends an arm behind you. 

The intrigue shakes you from your dirty thoughts. You shouldn’t pry, so you try not to, but having heard his explanation for the Page Six comment, you’re wondering if there really is a good explanation for how he got caught riding dirty with both narcotics and unregistered weapons.

He scoots closer, so he’s mostly on your bench rather than in the corner, and he extends an arm behind you. “I have to say, you are a smart girl.” He brushes your shoulder with his thumb. “Very pretty, too,” he adds quietly. “And very smart not to ask.”

“Thanks,” you mumble. What else can you say?

He looks you over, and his face hardens in an instant. “You should fire them,” he says. “They put a pretty girl like you in a van with me.” He scoffs. “They don’t respect you, I’m sorry to say.” 

What is that supposed to mean? You stare at him blankly, then say, “I can’t fire them, I work for them.”

“Well then you should fire your job. Quit it, the job.” You suppose he’s that out of touch. He probably doesn’t even know how much rent is in LA. Increasingly incredulous, he asks, “They sent you here alone?” 

Your mouth feels dry. You nod and try to swallow. 

His face softens. “No, please do not be scared,” he tries to recover, cupping your shoulder warmly with his palm. “But they should care more about you. You are precious.” 

“Well. . . Thanks, I think I’ll be okay,” you stammer.

Javi chuckles and locks all the doors to the van. Your upper body quickly goes cold as he settles in again next to you, his knee touching yours. How did he even do that?

He smiles darkly. “You felt that, right? In your spine?” His thumb brushes the nape of your neck, then the top of your spine.

You nod, otherwise paralyzed. 

“Fire them,” he repeats in a whisper.

You stand up just an inch to smooth your dress, and before you can sit back down, the van lurches out of nowhere.  You’re propelled face-first into Javi’s arms. The unopened bottle of champagne rolls away. Your faces are only a few inches apart. His shirt is soft, his body is warm, and you’re breathing his minty breath. The van lurches again and he hugs you into him, protectively. 

“I apologize, sir,” the driver announces through a speaker. 

You slowly begin to sit up from him. His arms are slow to release you. As you sit up, he lays a hand on your thigh. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“I should warn you,” he murmurs. “Traffic is very bad here.” 

—--

You sit there with Javi’s arm behind you and his other hand on your thigh, and neither of you speaks. He’s practically enveloping you with his whole body.

“You are thinking about it, right?”  

The pitch of his voice and a nod toward your skirt tells you what he’s talking about, and you don’t answer.  He takes his hand off your thigh only to adjust himself, and your face heats up. 

He sighs. “So, if you are the press, what should I say right now?”

After a loaded beat of silence, you snap out of it and begin to ramble, “Well, I haven't asked you a question, so you don't have to say anything, in fact, unless they ask–”

He reaches for your face. He rests four fingers on the side of your face, then brushes his thumb over your lips. “Shh. I won't say it,” he whispers. “That this press is the most beautiful girl. . .” Your lips part and let his thumb into your mouth, but your tongue pulls back.

“That I need her. . .in a way I cannot explain.” You gasp and look down. He takes his thumb  out of your mouth, then his hand drifts to his pants. “That I want to twist her legs around me like a pretzel.” The glint of his rings catches your eye, slowly moving atop his pants. His eyelids are heavy. “I should not say it, right?” 

You look at his mouth then meet his eyes again and shake your head no, ever so slightly. 

“But I can think it,” he whispers with a nod. “I can feel it,” he nods with a raise of his eyebrows. “Dios mio. . . I can have it.” 

He hugs you, slides a hand under your opposite thigh, and swiftly pulls you into straddling him with your knees on the seat and your skirt hanging loosely in his lap. You aren’t wearing stockings, but you’re wearing modest boy shorts. His hips lift up to meet you as he pulls you down with a sigh. His warm package feels even bigger than it looked. He closes his eyes and runs his hands over your back as your loins throb against each other. 

He holds your body firmly in place for a few gentle little thrusts that make you gush with each push of his bulge. Then, satisfied that you're not going anywhere, he pulls your face in for a long, steamy kiss, with his rings pressed against your cheek. As he feeds you his tongue, his hips keep moving, slowly pressing himself against you.

He pulls his face away and asks, “Do we have to go to this thing?” 

“No,” you say, pleased at this turn of events. He cups your head, and you explain, “Not at all. We wanted you to lay low. But you insisted-”

“I want to lay low with you,” he murmurs against your cheek. “Let me lay with you.”  Your insides are throbbing and swelling. His lips and the slightest hint of his teeth drag down your neck while his thick manhood hardens more against the crotch of your boy shorts. “I'll give you more than a taste, Mamacita. We're going to lay together.”  

He asks the driver to take you back to his place. Then he latches onto your neck, and you let out a little moan.  The van turns around to head back to his place. 

“I just need to text the team,” you tell him and get off his lap. You straighten your dress and begin to text your manager.  While you're on your phone, he keeps kissing and nibbling at you. 

Your manager calls, and you clear your throat. Javi occupies himself by popping open the bottle of champagne. You receive accolades for talking him out of the event. 

—--

When you're off the phone, Javi has somewhat composed himself. “Now we have all night.” He hands you a flute of champagne. A voice comes over the intercom saying there's a security matter Mr. Gutierrez needs to be briefed on. The van pulls over and Rafael, Javi’s head of security, joins you. 

“Your brother is back,” Rafael tells him. “And he's not happy about what you took.”

“Puta Madre,” Javi grumbles. “You know what he would have done with it.” 

“I know,” Rafi nods. 

“I have plans tonight, Rafi.” Javi looks at you adoringly. “The most important plans of my life.” He turns back to Rafi.  “Do you see this beautiful woman? We have plans.” 

“You have to stay with me,” Javi tells you. “I’ll keep you safe.” 

When you arrive back at Javi’s place, Rafi insists on escorting the two of you up to the penthouse. The place has already been cleaned up, and a maid is on her way out. 

“Thank you, Sandy,” Javi says as she passes by. She nods. 

——-

You excuse yourself to freshen up while Javi rants to Rafael. There's a crashing noise and you take your time coming back from the restroom, unsure what awaits. 

You come back to the main room and put your bag on a stool at the counter. Rafael is on his way out to stand guard by the door. Javi is sitting on the sofa with his pants off and his shirt unbuttoned, holding his gold pistol against his thigh. 

“I asked Rafi to give us some privacy,” Javi says. “We will not let this ruin our night.” He looks at you hungrily. “Come. Sit.” He makes space in his lap and looks down at himself. He’s wearing black boxer briefs.

You straddle him but don't sit yet. His free hand slides up the back of your thigh and he grabs a handful of ass. “You are the most beautiful woman,” he sighs. “And you feel so good in my hands.”

With his other hand, Javi nudges the golden gun under your skirt, and the metal on your bare thigh makes you flinch. “Shhh.”  He slowly slides the barrel along your inner thigh where the hem of your underwear is. He slides it lightly back and forth, breathing deeply through his nose. Then, his lips part as he rubs it along the damp crotch of your boy shorts. Your whole body erupts in goosebumps. He watches your face as he rubs you with the barrel of his pistol. He angles it upward each time he reaches your front. 

He palms your ass at the same rhythm as he massages you with the gun, as if encouraging you to ride it. Then he holds it still between his legs, pulls you closer against it, and your hips move on their own, seeking more pressure against the barrel. You twitch and gasp and he sucks in a deep breath through his nose. He moves you on the gun and you grind against the barrel until you’re almost at the edge and your thighs are trembling. 

“Good girl,” he sighs. He brings the side of the barrel to his nose and sniffs. Then he makes eye contact with you as he presses his lips to the side of the barrel and dips his tongue onto the metal.  He kisses the gun goodbye, then puts it aside. “I will keep you safe,” he reassures you again. 

Javi takes your hand in his and puts it on the hard bulge and you almost come. He’s so big, and so hard, the seams of his boxer briefs must be ready to burst. He uses your hand to massage himself. At the same time, he grabs the back of your head and pulls you into him for a passionate kiss. Your palm begins to massage his shaft. Feeling the hard shape of him, you can tell how thick he is, and it's more than a handful. Your fingers cradle his balls as you massage the lower part of his shaft. He pulls his underwear down and your skin meets his bare cock.

Both his palms engulf your ass cheeks and he lifts your dress all the way up over your ass so he can see your hips before desperately pulling you fully onto him. He smacks your ass, then kneads it again and licks into your mouth as he grinds up against you. 

He gropes your breasts and pulls your dress all the way up, taking it over your head. His hands find your bra clasp, and he frees your breasts, taking one to his mouth right away. He reaches into your smooth, stretchy boy shorts and gasps at the feeling of your bare, dripping cunt. He holds his cock in his hand and brings the tip to the bottom seam of your underwear. He wedges his cock into the garment, resting against your inner thigh, then a little further, and the bare skin of his tip nudging between your slippery folds makes you weak in the knees. He puts his cock all the way into your underwear from the bottom, wet from your slick, and pulls you tight against him. You grind together and his shaft massages your clit. The pressure builds and quickly boils over, and you moan as you begin to pulse against him. 

“Oh, my love,” Javi sighs, then moans as you grind and come against his cock in your panties. “Such a pretty sight and sound.”

With pleasure still washing over you, he wraps an arm tight around you, turns and lays you down on your back as your orgasm wanes. 

His cock slides out of your underwear as he makes space to finish undressing you both. He tears your underwear down in a frenzy and can't get out of his own soon enough. Within seconds, you're both nude on the sofa in the dimly lit room.

Javi sits on his knees between your legs and pumps himself slowly, belly pushing out, eyes dancing across your body. His cock is so stiff and thick, you can't take your eyes off it. You throb and ache for it. He runs his flattened fingers through your dripping seam and moans at your wetness. 

“I cannot wait another moment to feel you, my love.” 

Javi gets on top of you, his belly pressing into you as he positions himself then notches at your entrance. His gold chain hangs and grazes your chest. He hikes your leg up and you wrap it around him. 

“Good,” he whispers.

Javi shoves into you, punching the air out of your lungs with a brief burn at the stretch. He groans as he fills you with his flesh as fast as your body will allow. “Javi,” you gasp as his girth spreads you apart. His dick twitches at the sound of his name on your lips. He sighs your name and you're almost flattered he knows it, giving you a brief twinge of uncertainty that's quickly replaced by pleasure as he withdraws a few inches then slams into you. 

“You are so beautiful,” he pants as he begins to fuck you steadily. He kisses your chest and your neck. “It was fate that you came here to me.” 

He moans and grunts as he buries his cock in you. You wrap your other leg around him. His body is solid and soft against yours.  So much skin on skin and it all feels right. You feel safe, and you feel adored. The way he looks at you, the way he feels you, moves on you, it’s like he’s been waiting for you forever. He hooks a hand under your shoulder for more leverage, and the force of each punch of his hips jiggles your breasts. He slows down and fucks you more tenderly, but still with power. The movement of his hips is fluid and smooth. 

After a few minutes, he moans, “Ohh, my love,” then sighs your name. “I have to give you my cum, I have to give it to you.” You aren’t sure, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything to disrupt this moment. You’ve never had someone make love to you this way. “I’m going to explode,” he warns.

He buries his mouth in the crook of your neck, bottoms out, and groans as he erupts deep in your core, sending you for another climax of your own. Then his lips scramble up your neck and jaw to find your lips and he kisses you passionately as warm bursts of his cum fill you up. “Mmm,” he moans into your mouth as you clench around his cock. 

When you’re both finished coming, he stays inside for a moment. “We will be joined again,” he assures you as he pulls out.

He lays half on his side, with a bit of his weight on you for a moment. He strokes your face and admires you tenderly. You excuse yourself to the restroom, and he goes with you, escorting you to his master bath instead of the guest room you used earlier. He shows you his bedroom on the other side and says, “you will stay here with me.” 

-

When you come out of the restroom to Javi’s bed, you approach hesitantly. “Are you sure?” you ask. 

“I would not dream of letting you leave,” he assures you. 

[lxstfathier]

Yeah, people would say William was canonically married right? well- I'm kinda ashamed to wanna see anything about being William's side chick- 😭 Maybe William's wife was a bitchy or she had already cheated on him, and he wanted to have fun too perhaps...?

(idek if you commissions are still open. If they're not just lmk if u like idea lolzz)

Ngl i’m kinda torn with that idea. I don’t support cheating and i would never do that irl, buuut, sounds hot so i’ll let it pass just cuz it’s all fictional. And i’m gonna offer you a ✨thot✨

After being done with his bitchy and cheating wife, William definitely wants to take vengeance in the same way, so he gets involved with the first girl who catches his eye. And you are that girl. The new sweet waitress in the pizzeria.

First, he starts to flirt with you, approaching you slowly. Then, when you start to get closer, he decides to make you the one in charge of the springlock suits, teaching you how to maintain them and sometimes even helping him put on or take off the spring bonnie suit. Just to have more time with you, alone, backstage.

And once William is sure that you have fallen into his trap, he makes his last move. So it’s not long until you’re getting fucked in said backstage, against the cold wall, with your moans being silenced by the animatronics performing on the other side, hearing ‘talking in your sleep’ for the ninth time that day.

Since then, he becomes addicted to the thrill and dopamine rush. It’s a nice little game. So he fucks you in every place he can, his car, his office, on the prize counter…

But maybe, the real vengeance on his wife is taking you to his house and pounding you senseless on their shared bed as he grunts sweet nothings to you ear.

“Your young pussy feels so fucking good, so much tighter than hers. Maybe i should dump her and put a ring on you instead.”

[clarity2electricboogaloo]

Outsiders shit. Some modern some not idfk

These are all like. The most crack-filled hcs ever, please excuse my brain 🙏🏽🙏🏽 if these don’t make sense to you, tell me

- dally is so headstrong that the moment someone bets he can’t do something, he does it

- the gang takes advantage of this

- (this is a method I use on my younger siblings 😭😭)

- dally can walk in heels

- also two bit. Like scarily well. His sister is amazed.

- pony calls people whore

- Johnny calls people thot

- they say these to each other on a regular basis.

- also hoe

- uhhh where was I

- something something gay something something 70s 80s smth pony and Johnny because Johnny never died frfr no cap

- Johnny: “I can’t believe yall vape smh”

- also Johnny: *pulls out a cigarette for each hand*

- pony does the same thing

- twobit and Marcia are either gay-lesbian solidarity or they’re dating, no in between

- if they’re gay, they’re a beard couple just like “we pretend to date, they can’t catch on” “I like the way you think, woman”

- ily twobit matthews. That’s all.

- twobit and Marcia are actually both Hispanic, its canon trust I was there

- dally types “women ☕️” in instagram comment sections

- also “it’s bc I’m a man isn’t it”

- (ty V on discord for that second one 🙏🏽🙏🏽)

- cherry and dally argue on twitter

- a lot

- dally spams cherry and then she absolutely COOKS this pathetic rat man

- dally blocks cherry, doesn’t talk to her for a while, then eventually forgets and unblocks her to harass the poor girl again

- cherry doesn’t realize blocking is a thing, but she complains to marcia and marcia shows her how to block Dallas

- dally, two bit, and Steve are all hopelessly addicted to twitter

- like it’s really fucking bad

- someone get these mfs off the internet

- dally therapy

- now

- right fucking now

- cherry valance and ponyboy bisexual man/bisexual woman solidarity

- they are besties

- nothing more nothing less

- change my mind

- (you cant)

- marcia “good luck babe” by Chappell roan

- pony autism

- Johnny audhd

- Darry autism

- soda audhd or just adhd

- I saw someone say dally ocd once and I like it so

- dally ocd

- twobit adhd

- Steve adhd

- everyone trauma :D

- when johnny actually lived after the fire bc thats what actually happened actually fr, he left his parents because he realized they didn’t love him (pulling from the “I don’t wanna see her” scene for this)

- he stays with the curtis boys most of if not all the time

- if soda and Darry are gone, pony will grab Johnny and they’ll sleep together

- not in a weird way you freaks

- pony just genuinely cannot sleep

- I may or may not be influenced by fics I’ve read…

- soda saw them one night when he got home late and was like “…queers?”

- he stays out a bit later than usual now, often found sleeping in another room

- Darry actually supports more than pony thought, when he comes out, Darry is like a pride parade mom frfr

- kinda lowkey overbearing with it

- ily Darrel curtis

- soda is the typa guy to genuinely not understand lgbtq+ but supports anyways

- sodas the typa guy to be asked what his pronouns are and say “just he/him. Wish I had smth more interesting, but I’m just a guy :D”

- on the other end of that, soda and Steve are gay

- everyone is gay

- all of them

- so very fucking gay

Im done yapping for now, im so sorry for anyone that sees this

[604to647]

Safest with You - Series Masterlist

Modern AU with Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: Din Djarin, retired mob enforcer, falls in love, but worries his past could put his future (you) in danger.

A/N: First time writer, please be gentle 🥹 This is a modern AU where Din is a former enforcer for the Fett family, and the world building and relationship development between Din and Reader takes place over many chapters. Some Star Wars names thrown in for fun, but there aren't meant to be any serious parallels to canon. Thank you for reading and hope you enjoy my brain rot for everyone’s favourite tin man 🥰

Series warnings: Chapters with smut denoted with 🚑, chapters with angst denoted with ❤️‍🩹, fluff throughout. Individual instalment warnings are included in each post.

Ch. 1 (The Coffeeshop)

Ch. 2 (The Bookstore)

Ch. 3 (The Drycleaner)

Ch. 4 (The First Date)

Ch. 5 (The Courtship)

Ch. 6 (The Courtship, Din's POV) ❤️‍🩹

Ch. 7 (The Third Date) ❤️‍🩹

Ch. 8 (The Cab) ❤️‍🩹

Ch. 9 (The Dam Breaks) 🚑

Ch. 10 (The Afterglow) 🚑

Ch. 11 (The Poker Game) (a summary)

Ch. 11 Addendum (After The Poker Game) 🚑

Ch. 12 (The Workout) 🚑

Ch. 13 (The Birthday)

Ch. 14 (The Subway) 🚑

Ch. 15 (The BBQ) 🚑

Ch. 16 (The Match-up) 🚑

Ch. 17 (The Preparations) 🚑

Ch. 18 (The Threat) 🚑 ❤️‍🩹 Inspo

Ch. 19 (The Betrayal) 🚑 ❤️‍🩹

Ch. 20 (The Way to Get Over Someone, Part 1)❤️‍🩹

Ch. 21 (The Way to Get Over Someone, Part 2)🚑 ❤️‍🩹 new!

Ch. 22 (The Long Road to Forgiveness)

Epilogue

Art new!

Dog walk (@kenobiwanx commission 🙏🏻)

Bedtime (@pinkiemme Ch. 11A commission 🥹) 🚑 new!

One-shots and Drabbles (same AU)

All the one shots and drabbles can be slotted in the above timeline; as the chapters get written, I’ll note where they fit in. For now, consider the below to all be set when Din and Reader are in an established relationship (hence the smut 😂).

Carnival Fright Night 🚑 (set between Ch. 12 & 14)

Lingerie 🚑 (set anytime after Ch. 10) (Link to the Lingerie set)

The Wedding, Part 2 🚑 (insert btwn Ch. 17 & 18) (Moodboard by @hellishjoel - thank you!)

2 More Days (A Textfic) 🚑 - Part 1, Part 2 (set anytime after Ch. 12)

Holiday Remix (A Textfic) (set anytime after Ch. 12)

Let Me Carry It For You (SBowl 🏈 Drabble) (set right after Ch. 11)

The Mando Roll (Valentine’s Day Special) (set anytime after Ch. 10)

Hat Trick (set anytime after Ch. 12) Part 2 (The Playoffs) 🚑

Birthday Bunny 🚑 (HBD P! 🥳)

Gouda Girl (Happy Pedro Hours Challenge)

Thots

Alfredo’s the best dog

Favourite nook

Walking the dog

POV: On a date with Din

Naming of Mando’s Gym inspo

Working at Mando’s

Paz Vizsla face cast

Excellent boxing advice

Young boxer Din inspo

Series vibes and this amazing graphic by @gasolinerainbowpuddles (thank you!)

[trulybetty]

happy birthday.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader (no description, gif is to set the moooood) Word Count: 1,069 Warnings: 18+ this is soft smut - as is becoming standard, barely read through and posted for your thots Summary: happy birthday Joel Miller, I like to think of this as Sequins x Joel

A/N: on my bullshit again, apparently that whole Frankie situ plus the gif @rhoorl tagged me in has opened the floodgates for more smut. But this is a little softer... because remember, it's canon Joel likes it gentle, steady, nice and slow... 😏

happy birthday.

With his arms caging you in, wet kisses behind your ear, your neck and your jaw as he whispers - Joel moves slowly. The purpose isn't to race to an explosive finish - this is all about long, slow, savouring the moment. His lips explore your skin, kissing, licking and nipping. His teeth barely grazing and you feel a shudder run through you. You love his stubble, the feeling of it grazing you, the way it hurts just a little as it scrapes across your delicate skin. But it doesn't last long as his lips soon return to soothe it. 

The heat of him against you, the weight of him pressing you into the mattress, his cock grazing just–the–right–spot. His lips find yours at the same time, and you groan into his mouth as his hips rock back again, a slow drag that leaves you crying out for him to fill you again. But this is slow, this is Joel taking his time, this is a steady climb.

He kisses you, with such passion and with such pure intensity as he continues to rock into you. When you do catch his eyes on you, the appraising look as he gazes down between the valley of your breasts, where your hips connect, his deep brown eyes melting as he takes all of you in.

His hand, the one that's not cradling your head as he leans on his elbow to hold himself up, is a gentle touch. Despite them being calloused, and rough, his touch feel so soft against your skin as he runs it over you. He brushes his fingers down to your hip, across your stomach, across your breasts, all while he places kisses at your collarbone. 

“Darlin', you're the best gift I could have asked for,” his voice is husky, his breath warm against your ear as he gently nips at your ear.

You bite your lip, the delicious curl of tension between your hips is pulling at your focus, the heady feel of the room, the sound of his laboured breathing mixed with yours isn't helping either.

“But it's supposed to be your birthday,” you suck in a breath as he rocks into you again, hitting that soft spot, you try and catch your breath, “and you're doing all the work.”

You can feel his smirk against your skin, you don’t need to see it to know it comes with the added glint in his eyes, the one that you know means he has something planned, “Oh darlin',” he drawls, that smooth Texan flourish to his voice that manages to tug at something in you every time, “we're far from done here.”

And with that, without warning, he flips you over, and you're now atop him. Those strong hands, the ones that always manage to distract you, they hold your hips as he settles into the mattress and you sink onto him, both of you crying out from the pleasure it brings. You both pause for a moment as you take the other in.

He looks up at you, his eyes full of adoration and love. You lean forward and kiss him deeply, your tongue wrapping around his as the intensity of this moment overtakes you both. 

His hands grip your hips firmly as he thrusts up into you, sending shockwaves through your body with each movement. You ride him slowly at first, savouring the feeling of the connection between the two of you.

You arch your back as the pleasure builds inside you with each movement. Joel alternates between wanting to watch your hips as you find a harmonious pace with his. To the length of your exposed neck when you throw your head back and bite your lip to stave off the impending climax.

But a climax is inevitable, especially given how this build-up started over dinner, dinner with his brother and wife, where you'd chosen to wear that outfit. The one he'd sat up with a little more attention when you'd shown him your options, things were soon going to reach their conclusion.

Soon your breathing is fast and ragged as you start to move faster. You can feel him swell inside you, and you know he's close too. His hands grip your hips tightly, his fingers pressing into soft flesh, as he pulls you down onto him with each thrust and you need to steady yourself, your palms splayed open now on his chest.

“Joel,” you breathe out, “I'm close.”

Joel looks up at you, those dark eyes filled with so much want, so much need, “Darlin',” he groans again beneath you, barely able to find the words to tell you he's almost there too.

You're so, so close, he's so close now too. You're both on the edge, both ready to tip over. You can feel it building inside you, the pleasure that always leaves you breathless and speechless…

You can feel it, you're both so close, it's–

“Oh god, Joel–” you cry out as you slip over that all-familiar edge and it's explosive and you almost want to stop, the feeling so overwhelming that you have to squeeze your eyes closed. Stars behind your eyelids, heat uncurling from the base of your spine, spreading across your hips and it's so warm. It has you hearing static between your ears as the rush washes over you and you fight to catch your breath.

“Shit, darlin',” Joel moans, pulling you back from your euphoric haze, and you can feel him seal his own climax with a few more thrusts into you.

The feel of him pulsing inside you is almost enough to push you over that edge again, but you hold on, you hold on and you ride it out.

You collapse onto Joel's chest, you're panting trying to catch your breath, his breathing is ragged as he tucks his head into your neck. It's a moment you love, one you'll never grow tired of. The afterglow, the closeness and connection of it all. His heart beating fast against yours and you can feel his breath against your neck.

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you tight against his chest as he presses a gentle kiss to the underside of your jaw. 

“Happy Birthday, Joel,” you say, quiet and soft, a kiss to his temple.

His eyes, already on you since they never left, he smiles, “Thank you darlin'.”

[k-marzolf]

Thots about Marine!Billy…

(Canon typical violence, blood, attachment issues, obsession, dark themes, fem.)

Billy had his rifle over his lap, waiting for the enemy to make a move. It had been an ambush, and a lot of their men had died. One who’d joked with Billy earlier that day and played cards with him and Frank the night before, they had to leave behind as he bled out, screaming.

Billy was covered in his blood, and shaking, insides quivering. He’d always hated attachments. His mother proved that relationships were ephemeral. That people were after themselves.

But he mourned that man’s death whether he admitted it or not, and he reached into his pocket, pulling out your keychain he’d swiped. It was a pigtailed blonde vampire from a game you were obsessed with. He took you with him at every mission through its presence, but was careful not to let the other men see. He’d kill someone over that little red and black sparkly fanged thing if they tried taking it.

He didn’t understand his vicious attachment to the thing, other than it was a sharp reminder he was loved like a double edged sword, you had promised to wait for him. The promise of someone waiting at home for him was sweet.

He pressed his mouth to it, and swore he could smell your perfume clinging to it. Or maybe he was just goddamn tired, and hallucinating.

He quickly pocketed it as Frank moved over, a wry grin on his face. “Gonna accidentally swallow that keychain eventually, Bill?” He asked teasingly, passing a flask to Billy.

Billy choked on the moonshine. “It’s nothin’.” He hedged, wiping his chin.

Frank looked out into the desert. It was quiet right now. The calm before the storm. He turned back. “What woman gave it to you?” He asked, taking the flask back, drinking from it himself.

Billy’s jaw ticked. He didn’t want to share you with anyone. He wanted to keep your sweet memory and his infatuation to himself. Mostly he didn’t want to look like a fool when he returned and you had inevitably found someone else, and moved out of 2B. That you didn’t want to be buried with him anymore like Morticia Addams.

“We can be like those skeletons found holding each for thousands of years. Decomposing together until we turn to dust, and all that’s left of us are memory we once existed.” You had said, tucking hair behind his ear, sitting on the fire escape with him while he smoked.

“They’ll say, who’s this asshole with the pretty girl.” He said, blowing out smoke.

You giggled. “I’d be bones.”

He looked at you, “The memory you loved is enough.”

You had picked at your sweater. “I don’t want you to leave.”

Billy cupped your chin, “I gotta. Boss says so.”

“I’ll put a horse head in his bed.” You said fiercely, chin jutting out.

He laughed, shaking his head. “The Corleone’s would be proud.”

You leaned into his touch. “You’re mine.”

“Yeah, I’m yours.” He said, resigned.

Frank sat down next to him, and didn’t press any further, and Billy was relieved, as he closed his pockets, not wanting to risk losing you. And just in time.

Forces were coming towards their hiding spot, shouts over their heads, and they readied their weapons. Frank turned to Billy. “You get home to her, so you can give her a kiss.” He said roughly, turning and firing at someone, his shot going through the guy’s head, dropping him.

In the darkness, Billy’s cheeks turned pink as they burned. But he didn’t have a chance to respond as someone shot at him, missing by a hair’s breadth away.

He would come home to you. He swore it.

He wanted your macabre embrace when life finally claimed you both.

.

.

.

@e-dubbc11 @terry2227 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @milea @thejanecampaign @zz-kennedy @oops89 @aoi-targaryen @firequeensposts @firexfate @rosaleenablack @idaofinfinity @danzer8705 @bookloverfilmoholic @cant-help-simping @tortilla-chips-and-allioli @briannareneea985 @kayhi808 @vaguekayla @snowkestrel @ittybxttykxttytxtty @littleblackcatinwonderland

[precious-little-scoundrel]

Fine fine!!!! Let’s talk about Lu and Benny 😁😁😁

I thinkkkk maybe she has never ridden a guy before Benny because erm. I don’t think she likes facing away during sex but facing towards would reallyyyyy sorta. Emphasize ur breasts in a way no other position really does? But with Benny I think ms girl lovesssss it and good for her 🥳🥳

Oh I have such thots. Yall have heard me scream about this before but you’re gonna have to hear it again.

Totally canon to me about the facing each other, I headcanon that so much of what she endured was not and as a result it’s a total trigger. Benny and Li probably get partially past that but that’s much later.

Ok for now!!! Yall have heard me scream but here I go again— first time the have sex, it’s stuck in my head that it’s in a later summers evening on the porch swing and damn right- she rides him. Yes they’ve done so much fooling before but their first penetrative intercourse happens like this and sweet Lu flys to heaven it’s so good. Not just the sex. Though, being able to take it at her pace, scratch the itch she’s been feeling for him for ages, it’s all good. But she loves to watch his face, to kiss him, and then, she’s also got her dress clutched high to watch him go in and out, finding the sight utterly enchanting, wonderful, perfect, it makes Benny blush now much she watches and sucks her lip in like she’s not watching themselves do it.

He totally tells her not to bounce when she winces from “you’re so long Benny”, gently guides her into grinding and swirling her hips. It’s so very much like dancing but better she decides she’s never dismounting

[late-to-the-party-81]

What's up, Buck?

AN: And another late answer to an ask! Hahahaha. Thank you for the thot, Em. He looks so grumpy here!

Unbeta'd ficlet ahoy!

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

CW: Antagonistic work colleagues to lovers, Grumpy Bucky, Canon typical violence, confessions of feelings, idiots in lust, kissing, implied future smut.

“What’s up, Buck?” You called out with a smile as you passed the metallic staring machine in the corridor. He didn’t answer you. He never did. Just flared his nostrils and kept on staring, while you kept on walking.

“What’s up, Buck?” You gave him a jovial shoulder bump as you found him in the communal lounge-slash-kitchen, holding a bowl of cheerios and milk in his left hand and shovelling it into his mouth with the spoon in his right. He scowled as some of the milk sloshed, but said nothing.

“What’s up, Buck?” You gave him a wave as you strode onto the quinjet, passing where he and Steve were sitting sorting out their equipment, as you followed Nat to the cockpit. He tossed his knife over and over in his hand, glaring at you, but as usual, stayed silent.

“Quit bugging him,” Nat chided.

“But he’s gotta answer me sometime. How many missions can we get through where he doesn’t even exchange a single word with me? I’m determined to get him to say something, even if it’s just ‘fuck off’ or ‘shut the fuck up’. It’s not normal, Nat.”

“Yasha isn’t normal, скворец. Who would be after everything he’s been through?

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right…it’s just that I get on with everyone, Natty. I don’t know why he’s so grumpy with me.”

“He just doesn’t know you yet. It’s gonna take him a while to warm up. If you haven’t noticed he doesn’t really talk to me much.”

“Aah, yes, but he does talk to you.”

“You just want him to notice you crushing on him. I see those eyes you make at him.”

You stuck out your tongue at her, but Nat just shook her head, put on her headset, and started her pre-flight checks. You sat back and tried not to ruminate on the intriguing, and very hot brunette super-soldier.

—----

You pulled your knife out of the chest of the goon you’d just downed and jogged down the corridor in front of you. 

“I’m on my way guys, wait for me to catch up…”

“Don’t worry, Starling. We won’t leave you behind.” You heard the smile in Steve’s voice over the comms and rolled your eyes to yourself. The daft nickname that Nat had given you, after she found you doing karaoke exactly once, had now been adopted by the rest of the team. Well, almost the rest of the team.

You saw a partially closed door ahead of you and pushed it open, coming face to face with Bucky’s rifle. You skidded to a halt and raised your hands in the air.

“Heeeeeeey! What’s up, Buck? Apart from your gun, that is.” You stuck out your index fingers and pressed it to the end of the barrel, pushing it away from you. Bucky glared. You tried not to notice how sexy he looked all battle dishevelled.

“Come on, man. Lighten up.”

“I almost shot you.” It took you a moment to decipher the growl he made and then another moment to process that he’d actually spoken to you. 

You grinned and made a theatrical stagger towards the closest wall, clutching a hand to your chest.

“Be still my beating heart! He speaks!”

Some of the tension went out of Bucky’s body and he lowered his rifle to point at the floor.

“Are you always so blasé?”

“Are you always so stoic?

He rolled his eyes and started to walk away from you down the corridor. You trotted behind him, trying to keep up with his long-legged stride, and turned off your comms transmitter.

“Is that why you don’t like me? You don’t think I take anything seriously?”

He stopped short and you almost ran into his back.

“I don’t ‘not like’ you.” He turned and looked you over.

“Could’ve fooled me, Sergeant Barnes. This is the first time you’ve ever spoken to me.”

“This is the first time you’ve said something that isn’t that ridiculous phrase.”

You pinched your nose, feeling a headache coming on.”

“You do realise that if you’d done anything other than just stare at me, all haughty and serious, I’d have expanded my vocabulary.”

“Maybe I didn’t know what to say. What was I supposed to say?”

“Anything, Bucky. I don’t know. Maybe ‘Nothing, just chilling’, or ‘the value of the Yen against the Dollar’. Anything. We could’ve been getting along all this time, you know.”

“Anything, Starling? What if what I wanted to say wasn’t appropriate?” He took a step towards you, backing you against the wall. His expression had changed. “What if I didn’t want to ‘get along’? What if I want something different? I’ve seen the way you look at me. I know what you want. Maybe we want the same thing?”

His eyes were dark and for some reason you were transfixed by the way his tongue popped out from between his lips.

“Umm. Erm. Is it warm in here? Just me? Maybe we should be going, you know, catch up with the others.”

“Don’t change the subject, not when we’re finally talking, скворец. You want to ask me, don’t you? You want to ask me that stupid question one more time to find out what I really want to say, don’t you?”

His breath was warm on your face, his eyes hypnotising you. He was standing so close his knee was almost slotted between your thighs. All you’d have to do would be to drop slightly and you could grind against it and…

“What… what’s up, Buck?” You barely recognised the croaky voice that came out of your throat.

Bucky’s right hand came up and cupped your face, thumb moving over your cheekbone and he dropped his head even closer.

“My blood, скворец, every time you talk to me. That’s what’s up. I want to kiss you to stop you saying it, and then carry on kissing you to find out what other things your lips will say…”

He moved his lower body closer, pressing his hips against you and heat suffused your skin at what you felt.

“And when you prance around in those tiny sleep shorts that barely cover your ass, guess what else is up?”

You drew a ragged breath into your lungs, feeling dizzy from the adrenaline coursing through your body.

“Do you understand now why I didn’t respond?”

The gap between you was infinitesimal. You were so close you were breathing the same air and at some point your hands had come up to rest on the leather of his tack jacket

“You should have said it, Buck. You should have said all those things, and we could have been doing this sooner.”

You closed the gap.

At the first touch of his lips against yours, both dry and chapped due the exertion of the mission, your eyelids closed allowing you to just feel. His mouth moved over yours, not softly, but not aggressively either, like he was trying to hold back. Your fingers curled into his jacket and the firm material creaked. You could smell leather, and gunpowder, and steel, and Bucky’s sweat. 

You wanted more. Wanted to drown in it. Drown in him. 

You wanted to run your tongue up his chest and taste him, you wanted to wind your fingers into his hair and clutch him to your breast, you wanted…

“Starling? Buck? Where are you guys? Did you stumble into some more trouble? We’re waiting for you at the jet.”

Steve’s voice burst in over the comms, pulling you both out of the moment. Bucky stepped back from you and pressed his finger to his ear.

“We’re here, Stevie. Don’t worry, be with you in a few minutes.”

You lent against the wall, and grabbed your water bottle, taking a healthy slug and giving yourself a few moments to collect yourself. 

“Come on, Starling. You heard the man. Let’s move out.”

You gave him a sharp nod and strode forward. You got a few steps in front of him when you felt Bucky grab you, his cool left hand feeling blissful against your heated skin.

“Oh, and our conversation isn’t over, doll. Not by a long shot.”

You gave him a coy smile.

“Your room or mine?”

Tag list: @christywantspizza @jobean12-blog @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky @tuiccim @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @flordeamatista @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @ohsymphony @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @seitmai @talia-rumlow @poppunksnowwhite

[loquaciousferret]

Bad People

Summary: A stroke of fate leads one of your trading partners in the QZ to your front door one night, could it lead to something unexpected?

Pairing: Joel Miller X Female Reader

Content Warnings:  alcohol, established age-gap, SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, facial, cumplay? Maybe more READ AT OWN RISK 

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: More Joel thots and a serious praise kink going on...? Anyways...

As always, not canon timeline or events. Joel aged maybe 40, 45?, but dialogue references it being 20 years into the outbreak. 

NSFW under the cut do not press keep reading if you are a minor pls thx!

“We got to stop runnin’ into each other like this, darlin’.” The cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth wobbled as his lips turned up into a smirk.

He was right. This was the 4th or 5th time this month, and the 2nd time just this week that the pair of you had traded. You didn't answer, just tutting and shaking your head, looking down shyly at your feet. The way he talked to you pleased you a little bit, but you're sure he's like this with everyone.

“You should be more careful.” He frowns. “You’re lucky it was me on the other end of that setup. Could’ve been bad people. There's lots of em around here”

You looked up to meet his eye before screwing your nose up at him playfully. “You are one of the bad people around here.”

His smirk only widened at your remark, his eyes sparkling just a fraction more.

“I can be, if that’s what gets ya goin’…” He took a draw of his cigarette, gaze intense as he released the puff of smoke into the space between you.

You feigned disgust at his remark, clicking your tongue but couldn't help yourself from smiling again as you met his eye, “Goodbye, Joel.”

You shot a look over your shoulder as you left the alleyway and stepped into the street, pleased to find his eyes still fixated on you. A coy smile is sent his way and then a passing truck and a horde of guards pass between you. Once they’ve moved on, he’s gone, retreated into the shadows at the other end of the alley no doubt.

You had been trading with Joel Miller for nearly 6 months, he was a prolific smuggler with access to goods you didn’t even know still existed. In return, you had your own ways of sourcing his vices, cigarettes, alcohol, pills, small items easy enough to steal for someone as small and unassuming as yourself.

Illicit trading within the QZ operated in a variety of ways, one of the most common being through encoded notes or messages left in public places. And Joel was right, it could be bad people at the end of them, or perhaps worse, it could be undercover guards weeding out rule breakers. But often, the goods were worth the risk. And more and more frequently of late, you were finding Joel at the end of these messages.

You found there was something trustworthy about his eyes, despite a hardened and threatening exterior, and the bulges of multiple weapons in his jeans, his jacket pockets. You got the sense he had a soft spot for you and that always came in handy in regards to a good price for trading.

You traveled the short distance to your makeshift home within the QZ, a relatively quiet street and certainly one of the less dilapidated buildings. You knew you were lucky to have this place compared to the living conditions of some friends you’d made over the years here.

You had front door access up a short flight of stairs and fairly large windows, facing towards the centre of the town. You had managed to fabricate wooden shutters that you used for privacy and safety. Unlocking the door and crossing the threshold, you breathed out and released tension you hadn’t noticed you were carrying. Even within the QZ it was a dangerous world, for no one moreso than a single woman. You weren’t naive and knew that whilst living in the QZ kept you save from infected, there were fates worse than that.

You struck a match and lit the candles that surrounded the living area, the end of October meaning shorter days, night was quick to fall and curfew rapidly approached.

You began to empty your heavy pack, you had done a number of supply runs today, some through the legitimate channels. Food, soaps, a perfume for which you had swapped nearly an unjustifiable quantity of ration papers, a very specific red wine courtesy of Joel, which you had wanted for your birthday coming up, and a novel. You stowed the rest of this away in the right places and settled in to the sofa with the book, curling into a blanket that you have had since before the outbreak.

Curfew came and went with all of the city sounds ceasing, replaced only by the occasional stomp of guards patrolling the street.

You hadn’t realised you had drifted off whilst reading until you were sharply awoken by banging on the door. You leaped into action mode, reaching under the sofa for a baseball bat that you stored there. As you creeped towards the door there was another round of banging, and your mind whirred with possibilities. If it was FEDRA they would have shouted and said so. Could it be a friend? You weren’t sure. A possibility you hadn’t considered, was looking through the peep hole and seeing… Joel?

You kept the baseball bat gripped in one hand, breaking all rules and common sense about personal safety to unlock the door with the other. His eyes widen in surprise momentarily and you realise that he hadn’t been seeking you out, he had just knocked on any door. As you registered this realisation he pushed past you into the house.

He slammed the door behind himself, locking every bolt rapidly as if he was familiar with the apartment. He wasn’t, of course, but this is the kind of confidence and self-assuredness with which Joel completes every action. He proceeds to a small chink in the wooden shutters over the windows, sweeping up and down the street. Satisfied, he turns to you.

Eyes flickering between your face and the bat still clutched in your right hand, he smirks, “You gonna hit me with that?”

“I-oh.” You let out a breath of laughter and tossed the bat onto the soft sofa. “I guess not.”

“I was just looking for someone stupid enough to let a stranger into their house, I got lucky.” He explained, confirming your suspicions that he hadn’t known this was your place.

You rolled your eyes. “What are you doing anyway. Is someone after you?”

“No one dangerous,” He responds “Just FEDRA. I won’t have brought any trouble to your door. They won’t find me, idiots can barely track down their own heads.”

You smile at him.

“But seriously, what I said earlier about you needing to be more careful. ‘s true. Would you just let any old crazy person in off the street who needs your help.”

“You aren’t just any old crazy person.” You smiled. “Devil you know, and all that?”

He reached a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, your eyes fixed on the strong arm flexing under his thin jacket.

“Listen, uh…” He shifted on his feet and his ever confident appearance faltered slightly. “I know it’s a lot to ask, and I promise I’ll pay you back fairly-“

You were nodding before he finished the question. Of course you would let him stay. You did trust him, despite not really knowing him. And you didn’t want to see him caught or hurt by the guards. His business benefitted you, too. There was a net gain to helping him. But more than that, you found yourself intrigued and almost excited at the prospect of having someone in your home like a normal old day.

“It’s no trouble, really.” You said sincerely, and his eyes expressed relief. “You’ll just have to me owe me one.”

“Anythin’, honestly.” He responded.

“Take a seat.” You urged him, picking up the baseball bat and sliding it back underneath the sofa. “Are you hungry?”

“No, no. I wouldn’t ask you to waste your food.” He shook his head.

“Suit yourself.” You shrugged.

You sat opposite him in an armchair. You had better furniture than many people, mismatched but relatively clean and comfortable. You watched him as he collected a lighter and cigarettes from his pocket, raising an eyebrow when he looks back at you in confusion.

The penny drops and he asks, “Can’t I smoke in here?”

You consider him for a moment over the top of your book. “I guess so.” You offer, but he’s replacing them back into his pocket already. You realise you had made a mistake, then. You recognised a knowing look in his eyes, he knew you weren’t happy with the smoking and yet you had said yes to him anyway. A glint in his eye was questioning what else you might say yes to. You blush as your train of thought continues.

He cleared his throat, breaking the tension between the two of you which you had felt rising. “So, why the wine? You hosting dinner parties these days or somethin’?”

You laugh a little at the suggestion, both knowing the answer. “Nope, I’ve got a big birthday coming up.”

“That right?” He raised an eyebrow. “How old?”

“Guess.” You shot back, folding the corner of your page and setting it on the coffee table.

“Ah…” He tilted his head. “No, I’m not falling into that trap.”

You leaned towards him and put on a theatrical whisper, “Twenty-five”

He grumbled, rolling his eyes. “Oh yeah, ancient.”

“On Wednesday.” You added.

“I don’t celebrate my birthday. What’s the big deal about another year in this place.”

You rolled your eyes. “25? Remember? It’s pretty much all I’ve known.”

A sharp intake of breath from Joel has you pondering. You’ve never been good at knowing other people’s age, but you imagine he has 15 years on you at the very least. He most likely lived a life he remembered well before this, unlike you, who only has faint fragments from your early childhood.

“How old are you?” You asked.

“Old enough to be your father.”

His tone was laced with something unfamiliar. You tore your eyes away from him and returned them to your book. Fine, if that’s how he wanted to play it, you thought. But something about how he held your gaze when he said it made you think he wasn’t expressing disgust or disinterest at all, it was more like a test.

“You live alone?” You ask.

“Why?” His eyes narrowed.

You sigh, “Just making conversation.” You muttered back.

“Yes.” He confirms. “You?”

You gestured around the apartment. “Just me. After..” You trailed off.

He nodded knowingly. “Yeah.”

Details were never needed. Everybody had lost most of those close to them. People with remaining family from before were few and far between and very very fortunate. You weren’t one of those fortunate few and Joel’s entire character made it clear that neither was he. He was out for himself, only. Maybe that could work to your advantage.

“Well, listen. Do you want to share that bottle?” You asked, tentatively. “Today’s Saturday and you need somewhere to stay. Better than me celebrating alone on a weeknight.”

“Don’t see why not.” He says.

Before you could stop yourself, the bottle was empty and you had loosened up. Probably to a degree more than was wise. At some point you had moved from your armchair to occupy the sofa alongside Joel, there had been a reason but you had never proceeded to move away again.

Something about it felt so natural, so normal, like being in the company of a friend. You had even extracted a few laughs from him.

You were watching him, not expectantly, just lost in your thoughts and his deep brown eyes when he cleared his throat and you realised just how close to him you were, warmth radiating from him, a rich musky scent, all contributing to the somewhat magnetic force you felt acting upon yourself.

“It’s been a while.” He said.

You didn’t know what he was referring to. A while since what? Since he drank wine? Since he shared a night like this with another human being? Since…

His mouth latching onto yours interrupted your train of thought. His kiss was hungry, but not desperate, it remained powerful and dominant, just like the energy Joel permanently exuded.

You lifted your hands to tug lightly at the curls at the back of his neck, tilting your head up and deepening the kiss in the process. He turned to face you more fully, a strong arm reaching round to wrap around your middle. And with one movement, that same arm manoeuvring you onto his lap. The kiss breaks for the first time and you pull away ever so slightly to look at him. The sight staring back at you is the most attractive thing you think you have ever seen. Pupils dilated, broad chest rising and falling rapidly as he takes shallow breaths. You feel something growing in his jeans at the place your body connects to his. The affect you were having on him after just briefly making out gave you confidence.

“I’ve wanted you, for such a long time,” He whispers into you as he pulls you closer again, hot breath tickling your neck, your ear, as he flicks out his tongue and nibbles your earlobe. “Tonight I’m finally going to have you.”

You can’t stop an audible whimper escaping and you feel his smirk in return. Of course, you had messed around with other young men in the QZ, friends and such, but never had you felt attraction as deeply as you did to Joel in this moment. Joel knew what he wanted and how to get it. There was nothing awkward or fumbling about this like your previous encounters.

You pressed your lips to his again, rolling your lower half into him. His firm hands gripped your hips and his fingertips lightly grazed the skin as your top started to ride up. His touch was magic, the way in which he managed to be simultaneously so powerful yet remain gentle was expert.

He broke the kiss again, his voice husky as he questioned, “You gonna show me to your room or do you want me to take you right here, beautiful?”

You couldn’t speak, just hopping off of his lap in response and taking one of his large hands in yours to lead him to the bedroom at the back of the apartment. The corridor, only a few feet long, had never felt like such a long walk due to the anticipation that was reaching unmanageable levels inside you.

You entered the room and Joel closed the door behind you, plunging the room into darkness. Spinning you round by your wrist to face him, he began stripping the clothes from your body whilst kissing you, quickly taking your sweater off over your head. You fumbled with the buttons on his shirt in return, but he quickly took over, pushing your hands lower to deal with his belt buckle as he tore off his forest green button-down. You successfully undid his buckle and unzipped his jeans, slipping your hand inside to press against the hardened bulge inside his boxers.

A low groan escapes his lips as you apply further pressure, palming his cock as it continues to harden further.

“Don’t tease me baby, you won’t like where it gets you.” He says, as he pushes you gently onto the bed.

You can’t make out his features in the darkness but his tone paints a picture of that signature smirk that is making you grow wetter by the second. He pulls your bottoms from your legs and you hear them land somewhere across the room, before doing the same with his own. His hands widen your thighs and you feel the weight of the bed shift as he positions himself between your legs. You reach your arms around his neck and pull him into a kiss, and he uses this as an opportunity to snake an arm around your back and unclasp your bra.

It drops to the floor to reveal your breasts and hardened nipples, which he teases lightly with his thumbs, continuing to kiss you.

“Isn’t this a pretty sight.” he mumbles as he leans back, taking you in as much as he could in the low light before attaching his mouth to your nipple, sucking and nibbling lightly, eliciting gasps from you.

You feel yourself rolling your hips towards him, finding his thigh and whining at the lack of attention your lower half was receiving from him.

“Patience, sweetheart.” He smirks, gripping your hips and pinning them onto the bed.

He fulfils your request anyhow, gently rubbing you through your underwear as he focussed his attention once again on your breasts. kneading one in one hand whilst balancing his weight on his elbow, and continuing to use his tongue on the other, sloppy kissing and suction on your nipple and intermittent biting that had you whining through gritted teeth.

You were sure he could feel your arousal, heat and wetness permeating through the thin material of your underwear, letting him know the effect his teasing was having on you.

“J-Joel.” You gasped, your tone not far from begging. “Please.”

He obliged at last, “Only cause you asked me so nicely,” He whispered into your skin, kissing and sucking your breasts, your throat, your neck, your ear.

Joel was consuming every single one of your senses, intensifying the pleasure you felt when he finally inserted a finger into you. You felt as though you were practically dripping all over him, malleable and ready for whatever he might give you. He groaned softly as he curled his finger inside you, pulling it out painstakingly slowly to replace it with two this time.

You let out a quiet moan, biting your lip to try and hold back the sounds of your pleasure, not wanting to let him see how much this act alone was affecting you.

“Let me hear you, baby.” He said, as if reading your mind. “Show me how much you like to be touched.”

You let yourself go now as he picked up his pace, curling his fingers hard and fast against that spot inside you that had your toes curling. As he continued this, his thumb found its way to your clit and he rubbed slow circles into it.

“Oh, Joel…” You gasped, twisting the bedsheets in your fists either side of you. “I want you to fuck me Joel, please Joel I- ah” You cut yourself off with another moan as he inserted a third finger, stretching you out and increasing the pace and force with which he massaged your clit.

“Baby, the way you beg so nicely has me tempted. But I need you to come before I fuck you.”

You nodded and reached a hand out towards him, feeling for him with your eyes closed. Your hand connected with his shoulder and you tugged him towards you gently, keen to be enveloped in his warmth, his scent. He reached his lips down to yours and your moans escaped into the kiss. Your eyes shot open when he removed his fingers from inside you and then his whole hand from where it had been working at you.

He pulled away from the kiss and replaced his mouth with his fingers, which you sucked instinctively, interpreting his wordless request.

He moaned as you swirled your tongue around his fingers and tasted yourself and you did too, closing your eyes and releasing your sounds of pleasure.

“Jesus…” He sighed contentedly

He returned his hand to your core and focused entirely on your clit this time, pinching gently before rubbing circles rhythmically. You were close to orgasm already, your deep attraction to him and the power he exercised over you all encouraged your release quicker than usual.

It didn’t take long for his practiced attention on your clit, coupled with his low praise in your ears, when you felt it building inside you.

You arched your back slightly, pressing yourself against his hand to increase the friction however possible.

“That’s it, baby.” He muttered in your ear. “Show me how good it feels.”

“You gonna come for me, good girl?” He breathed.

Your face was screwed up in pleasure, your breathing shallow and erratic as your orgasm built, tension growing more and more.

“Let me hear those pretty sounds, sweetheart.” He urged.

You came hard with noises between moans and wails escaping your lips. Joel’s pace didn’t falter as you enjoyed your orgasm, writhing your lower body against him before you collapsed onto the bed, spent of the energy needed to hold yourself up.

He pressed a wet kiss onto your cheek before moving from where he lay alongside you to position himself over you. He took your hand and guided it to his erection, which you palmed gently, feeling its size again. He sighed at the sensation of your small hands grasping him through the fabric, but he had little patience for this moment and quickly moved on to removing them, pulling them down his thighs and allowing his cock to spring free. You resisted literally letting your jaw drop as you saw him bare and felt the full weight and size of him. Definitely bigger than anything you had experience with.

He took a hold of himself, guiding his tip down to rub it through your folds, causing you to shudder slightly with your clit still sensitive from your orgasm. He nudged the tip to your wet hole and you bit your lip as he entered you, slowly at first until he was about halfway in before thrusting himself into you as deep as he could. At this, you couldn’t keep your noise to yourself, releasing a desperate and tortured moan.

He took this noise as a sign to continue at this pace, dragging out of you slowly but thrusting in with force, hitting the deepest parts of you.

You moaned and whined and could barely catch a breath, his thrusts picking up in pace as he used your body for his pleasure.

“God, Joel, yes,” You say, but you are sure it comes out unintelligible. “Please fuck me like that Joel it feels so good oh my god.”

He grunted in response and continued, taking one hand and giving attention to your clit as he fucked you relentlessly, all you could do was babble words of praise and thanks and his name, rolling from your tongue as though you were addressing a deity.

“You’re so tight.” He groans through gritted teeth, bringing his body closer to yours to kiss at your skin as he fucks you.

You sense he won’t last much longer when he slows down his thrusts, and your suspicions are confirmed when he asks “Where do you want my cum, beautiful?”

Your eyes widen and you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out. The look on your face as you do this is almost enough to push him over the edge, “Oh god.” He exclaims, pulling out of you in a rush. A playful look in your eyes as you laugh a little, still keeping your tongue out.

He grabbed your arms and manoeuvred you roughly onto the floor in front at the edge of the bed. He kneeled on the bed above you and you kept eye contact with him, wiggling your tongue as he pumped his cock in his hand.

He groaned as he watched you, you closed your eyes briefly and he scolded you.

“Keep them open.”

You did so, and with another few tugs of his wrist he was exploding all over your face, salty cum landing mostly on your outstretched tongue and inside your mouth but some more leaking onto your nose, cheeks, and chin.

You swallowed what was in your mouth and tongue as he kept his eyes fixated on you, deflating slightly and relaxing lower onto the bed. He reached out and used his thumb to wipe your face, collecting his spent load from around your face and guiding it towards your lips. You sucked on his thumb obediently, and he sighed, totally transfixed and holding your gaze throughout your entire performance for him.

With most of him cleaned up from your face you straightened up higher and he reached over to press a chaste kiss to the top of your head.

“You did fantastic.” He praised, and you hummed, enjoying the feeling of his hand holding the back of your neck and his face pressed into your hair.

When he released you and lay backwards onto the bed, you got up and padded barefoot to your bathroom. You washed your face and rinsed your mouth out, eyeing yourself in the cracked mirror. Your hair was slightly pressed to your forehead with sweat and the rest of it was sticking out wildly. Your cheeks were dark with blush and you still hadn’t quite slowed your breathing down to normal. Yep, you looked like someone who had just been fucked hard.

You crept back to bed, floorboards creaking, collecting your underwear on the way and putting it on before sliding under the covers. He stood slowly and did the same, reaching out to pull you close towards him, attacking the top of your head, your forehead, your throat, your chest, with rapid kisses.

“Joel-“ You giggled, flattered with the kind of attention he continued to give you after the sex was over.

After a final kiss, he kept you close to him, inhaling from the top of your head, his breath tickling you.

You lay this way, content for a while, until something compelled you to speak. “Joel?” You said softly, your voice not quite a whisper, unsure if he was awake.

“Hm?” He responded, rubbing circles on your waist with his thumb where his arm was around you, holding you tightly to him.

“Are we going to do this again?” You asked shyly.

He exhaled with what might have been a small laugh. “Absolutely, sweetheart. You’re not gonna get rid of me now.”

You nuzzled into his neck and eventually, sleep took you. Nothing you could dream about would top the night you had just had with Joel.

[mushyblushyredhead]

‧₊˚ Random Tword Thot ‧₊˚. ✧

Sooo I rewatched the Alien movies this weekend to get myself hyped for the new Alien: Romulus movie, annnnd while watching the spooky space chaos…hhHHH the canon event of yoinking another fandom into my fluffy tk trash brain has BEGUN! ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡

IMAGINE THIS!! Facehuggers with teasy claws and feathery tails that glomp you and tickle you silly, refusing to let go until they’ve had their fill.

Chestbursters and that wiener snake thing from Prometheus that slips through your clothing and tk attacks your skin until you’re on the ground in hysterics. Super slippery, hard to remove from clothing because they’re cheeky little sh!ts.

And finally, Xenomorphs but they’re actually just big playful tickle monsters that love to pin you down and tickle you all over with their claws and feathery tail until you're tired out, and then snuggle you for a nice cuddly nap afterwards. (づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ

…right? Yeah? Anybody with me? (*^^*)

Stay tuned cuz Imma make an AU on it anyway! (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)✨

[nightwonder7]

Here to bring some silly 3 AM thoughts from a silly 3 AM thot

So, mini hunter pets, right?

The lil goobers

Imagining them existing in canon + the hunters' reaction to them is already comedy gold, but I've got a specific idea that I cannot get out of my head because it is so silly

So, picture a survivor (I was thinking Emma because she's a sweetie) having a mini Evil Reptilian and giving the lil guy a smooch right in front of Luchino, whose reaction is basically 😳

Then, come the next match, said survivor is up against the actual Evil Reptilian who, instead of downing them, stands there with a puppy dog look waiting for his own cheek kiss and everyone is just... so confused

Anyway, the point I'm trying to make is your art/comics are great, they're responsible for my brain rot, and Luchino deserves kisses

Aight thanks for reading bye-

GHJKghjsjfdhsfsd oh my gosh that is so cute! ;W; Luchino definitely deserves some kisses ;u; Imagine kisses as an in-game mechanic that makes hunters so flustered they get stunned XD Perhaps peace and harmony can be achieved in the manor with kisses 🤔