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sturnlsstuff · 13 days

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MISSED YOU | chris sturniolo: part 2

pairing: dealer!chris x fem!reader

summary: after finishing deals for today, chris calls you to "check" on you, but he ends up coming over and making a mess on your couch.

warnings: mdni, smut, sub!chris, dom!reader, handjob, pet names, kinda bratty reader + more...

a/n: part one here!! didnt plan to do more than one part but yall seemed to like it so here it is. once again english isn't my first language so sorry for any mistakes

~~~~

chris wasn't planning to end up like this. on your couch, his hard throbbing dick leaking with precum aching for the release you refused to give him. it was such a pretty view for you. his brown hair was sticking out from under the hood of his black fresh love hoodie, his flushed cheeks and pink swollen lips, that he keeps biting to muffle his pathetic whines and moans, that escapes his mouth. all of this because of you. when he called you earlier, all he wanted was to actually check on you, since he was aware how much he wore you out after your last sex in his car two days ago. but you kept being sarcastic, your bratty attitude annoyed him, and he promised he'll come over once he's done with his deals, and then teach you how to keep your pretty little mouth shut. things took a different turn quick.

~~~~

(...)

"i'm tellin' you, ma, i just wanted to check on ya. why you so surprised, huh?" chris asks smirking and watching your cheeks turn a deeper shade of pink, it was visible even through the screen.

"nothing, i'm just...." you sigh, deciding to finally change the topic. chris usually was texting you to ask if you're good if he went too hard on you, but he never calls. until now. "whatever, forget it. how long will you be there?"

"hmmm, i have two more people and then i'm done. what, you miss me?" he grins more when you roll your eyes in response.

"no, idiot, i don't.."

"that's interesting, sweetheart, you said somethin' else the last time we-"

"shut the fuck up." you cut him off, making his smirk widen.

"easy there, don't talk to me like that."

you roll your eyes again. "maybe go back working, what is your lazy ass doing on the phone, huh?"

"my lazy ass? you the one doin' nothin' all day on this couch while others are being productive."

"then come back to being productive, dickhead."

chris grins, narrowing his eyes. he was somewhere outside, you could barely see him because it was dark, but the light from the lantern fell on his face, highlighting his facial features. "careful, ma, don't get all arrogant on me. y'know if you were here right now, i'd shut your pretty mouth real quick."

"well, but i'm not with you there, soooo..."

"a'ight go back to lounging on the couch all day, watchin' those shitty ass movies." he looks up for a second, before looking down on his phone, you could hear some man's voice in the back.

"keep calling me lazy and i won't ever suck you off again." you raised your eyebrow, giving him a fake smile. he licks his lips, answering after a moment.

"oh c'mon, sweetheart, don't be a bitch."

"damn christopher, now you be callin' me a bitch? you're fucked." you shake your head, but a little smile is playing on your lips.

"stop acting all snarky and sarcastic, and maybe i will stop callin' you that."

"cry about it."

"keep it up, smartass, i'll make sure you gonna be the one cryin' when i come over."

you narrows your eyes, seeing his stupid smile on his face. "who said i will let you come over?"

"i'm finishing soon, see you there, ma. i'll be takin' out all that stupid words of yours, outta your pretty little mouth."

~~~~

he was asking himself, how did he end up with you making him whimper. when he stepped inside your house twenty minutes ago, he was so ready to make you regret talking to him like that, until he pulled you onto his lap and you started grinding down on him. he was trying to keep his control, but you just knew how to make him lose it.

all of this started because you told him he stole your outfit. you both were wearing black fresh love hoodies, the hood over your heads. the difference was you had grey sweatpants on and he had the black ones.

"no, YOU stole my outfit. you just copied me." he said to you, shaking his head with a grin.

"yes, 'cause the only thing on my mind is copying you."

"stop bein' childish"

"i am childish?" your eyes widen, looking at him as he's an idiot.

this banter quickly turned into you two making out and you teasing chris. your tongue sliding inside his mouth, your hips slowly moving, making a little bit of a friction. his dick was already hard, aching for your touch, but you weren't gonna give him what he wanted that fast.

"mmmhm, shit..." chris mutters against your lips, bucking up his hips but you quickly pressed them down with your hands, now breaking the kiss.

"oh, are u impatient?" you smile looking down at him. he opens his eyes, scanning your face for a bit, before reaching a hand to push your hood off your head and get a better look on your face. a little smile appears on his lips when he sees your messy hair. you press herself harder onto him, making him hiss.

"fffuck, ma, you gonna drive me insane-"

your hands travels under his hoodie, just running your long nails up and down his chest, before you start toying with the waistband of his sweatpants, continuing moving your hips.

chris watches you as you take your hand out from under his hoodie, and start to toy with the waist band of his sweatpants, he keeps staring up at you and his dick grows harder with every second.

“ughhhh...ffffuck i know exactly what you doin'..."

"yeah? what am i doing chris?" she plays innocent, keeping the eye contact with him and then she grinds against him more, his tip brushing against her pussy, making both of them whimper.

his lip between his teeth as he tries to control himself, but his cock is painfully sensitive, twitching in his pants. he puts his hands on the sides of your hips, pulling you down against him more as he groans a bit. you feel he's careful though, remembering he left bruises on your skin two days ago.

“shittt, you playin’ with me, mama.. stop doin' that"

"you want me to stop, hm?"

"ohh, no, don't stop doin' that, just... stop playin' with me.."

"and why would i?" she stops moving on him, her hand travels down and while looking him in the eyes, she starts stroking him through his sweatpants. chris lets out another quiet whine, throwing his head back on the couch, his dick leaking, begging for some kind of relief.

"cuz i'm hard as hell, it hurts"

she smiles, squeezing him slightly and answering after a moment. "that's cute."

"oh- fuckkkk, you fuckin' little tease-" he groans, closing his eyes for a moment.

you keep moving your hand, watching him trying so hard to hold back his moans, but he isn't able to. chris looks up at you, seeing how you’re so invested and watching him struggle and he feels you keep stroking him through his sweatpants, he’s so hard now from you just touching him like this.

"yeahhhh.. just like that.. oh god, that feels s'good..”

he groans softly again as you continue to stroke him through, he’s starting to leak more but his sweatpants are still in the way.

"ahh careful... you might cum in your pants." she smirks, biting her lip. she was getting more and more turned on just by watching him like this, but it wasn't about her today. today she needed to make him lose it.

he grins at you and he looks down seeing a small wet spot showing through on the sweatpants.

“i mean, you're doin' this to me, don't say that like it was my fault.."

"you can always hold back, y'know"

"oh, it's- fuck..." he cuts himself off when he sees you pulling down his sweatpants finally. "shiit, dont act all smartass again, y'know i cant when you do that to me-" he gulps, finishing his sentence but his whole focus is now directed on you.

your lip is between your teeth as you pull down his boxers, revealing his hard, aching, leaking with precum cock. you couldn't believe that you were the cause of his struggle, and that you could make him that desperate. you wrap your hand around him, rubbing his sensitive tip with your thumb and watching his reaction. he bites his lip, watching you, his tip twitching visibly and he moans again from your touch, he’s getting so much precum leaking out. he's fighting with himself, trying not to buck his hips up and start thrusting into your hand.

“ohhhh fucckkk.... shit please- just a little more... mmm, oh god.... ima cum if you keep doin' this-"

"what did you say?"

"fuck, p-please.."

"couldn't you said that sooner? you wouldn't be struggling so much..." she smiles hearing him begging and then starts slowly moving her hand up and down his length. she's still straddling him, his one hand digging into her thigh, and the other one on the couch to try and brace himself from how good it feels.

"s'good... fuck, so, so good..." he leans his head back, his eyes rolling back for a second as he gulps, but then he looks at you again, loving the sight in front of him, and also you just bring him closer to the edge.

"yeah? wanna cum already? how naughty.."

"oh- my god... mmmhh, please, mama- i'm so-"

your words just sets him off even more, his dick twitching in your hand as you now picks up your pace, making him groan. the way you're so dominant right now turns him on so much, he would never think he'd be liking it so much, but damn, he does.

"i... ughhh, you so good at this- fuck..." his fingers dig into your skin more, leaving new marks on your thighs, he's on the edge now.

"c'mon pretty boy, come for me, yeah?" you speed up your hand more, watching him intensely. your words stealing a louder moan from him, his dick twitches, he bucks up his hips and he releases all over himself. white strings of his cum on his black hoodie, all over your hand, his thighs and even on your couch. you have to bite on your lip to hold back a moan, while he squeezes his eyes for a moment, cursing under his breath. you slow down with your hand, stopping after a moment as he opens his eyes, looking up at you.

you smirk, making eye contact with him and slowly licking his cum from your hand. he groans in response, breathing heavily.

"damn, i might get hard again."

"freak."

"but you into it." he grins and pulls you into another sloppy kiss.

________________________

a/n: do we fw this or nah, lmk 🫦

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x fem reader #matt sturniolo #dealer chris

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bigification · 4 months

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Beach Bears

The cold water felt good on my feet as the waves washed in and out. The sun warmed my skin as I stood at the edge of the beach. It was finally summer, the season where the ladies pull out their bikinis and I get to show off all the hard work I put into my abs over the winter. I finally got to wear my new orange speedo, it was a little big but the drawstring made it so it wouldn't fall down. It still showed off my ass well so I didn't care. I tried to convince my friend Leo to get a speedo too but he was hesitant. Although he did get a short pair of swim shorts, so he'll still be able to show off for the ladies.

"C'mon Leo, let's go already!" I yelled, waiting for my friend to join me in the water.

"Ya ya I'm coming!" He yelled back as he ran towards me.

We both slowly walked into the water together, it was cold but refreshing. We stopped just as the water reached our upper thigh, working up the courage to go deeper. In the meantime, I looked around to see if we had any catches nearby.

"Bingo!" I said to Leo as I tapped his shoulder. "Right there. Red bikinis." I pointed at two ladies swimming nearby.

"Slow down man, they're like ten years older than us. No way they want us around." Leo hesitated.

"Dude, were like almost 20, were basically adults. Just follow my lead." I said as I dragged towards the two women.

"Hey ladies. Need company to keep you warm?" I said, trying to lower my voice to sound smooth.

The women looked at each other and giggled quietly. One of them slowly walked up to me and put her hand on my shoulder.

"Why don't you two go a little deeper. We're gonna get some sunscreen and we'll be right back." She said as she softly slid her hand down my arm. She then brushed her hand across my cheek and over my mouth. It left a sweet taste in my lips. I saw the other woman do the same to Leo as they started to swim back to the shore.

"Holy shit! Holy shit!" I said excitedly to Leo. He smiled back at me and we both went deeper to wait for the ladies to come back.

I laid on my back, floating on the surface of the water. My head was turning with all of the things I should say, or the things I should do when they come back. I didn't even notice myself mentally drifting away. It was getting harder to think, it was hard to tell how much time had passed. I felt comfortable as a warm sensation filled my body.

As I was floating, I turned my head to face Leo. It looked like he was mindlessly floating like I was, but something seemed off. His belly is sticking out a bit. At first it just looked like he took a big breath in, but then it never flattened back out to his normal abs. In fact it just kept growing. It swelled until it looked like he ate a basketball. I could even see fat love handles spilling over his waist, acting as floating devices for his growing body. I should have been terrified, or at least curious about what was happening but something about it felt normal.

I continued to watch Leo change, I felt mesmerized and paralyzed at the same time. His flat pecs grew into a pair of strong but soft pecs that complemented his gut. His once skinny and defined arms ballooned into strong biceps, and thick man hands. His legs and his ass plumped a lot too, making it look like his swim shorts were about to burst. Even his feet looked like they grew six sizes.

I started to feel butterflies in my stomach. Like the feeling I get when I look at a hot woman, but I couldn't take my eyes off Leo. Finally, I watched his lovely hair fall out, leaving a bald head behind. Then his clean shaven face quickly grew a thick and bushy beard that covered the double chin that had formed under his face. His features seemed to roughen up, giving him the appearance of a tough man in his late thirties.

As I stared at Leo, I noticed I was struggling to stay afloat. My body was sinking and my head was barely above water. I usually have no trouble floating, why is my body sinking like a rock all of a sudden. I go to stand up, and something doesn't feel right. I could even touch the bottom before, now the water only reaches my chest when I stand up straight. I looked down, feeling the scruff of my beard rub against my chest. Wait... I don't have a beard, why do I have a beard. When I looked down, I noticed my chest sticking out much further than it usually does. My pecs were thick and padded, and my stomach had a thick layer of muscle but it was hidden under a layer of fat. My arms were massive, It made me feel so strong. My biceps were so thick that I had to spread my arms so they don't rub against my sides. My hands had gotten so thick, I felt like I could grip a basketball with one hand.

I started to walk towards Leo, as my mind began to feel less foggy. My memories started to come back to me. I had to stop and undo the strap on my speedo, because it felt like it was squeezing me to death. I think I'll need a new one anyway, this one felt like it was crushing my dick with every step. It also shocked me how much I had to spread my legs while walking, leg day has been paying off with these thick thighs but man is it annoying sometimes.

"Wake up, babe." I said to Leo as I shook him. He snorted a bit before jumping awake. "You look so cute when you wake up." I said as I leaned in for a kiss. I loved the fuzzy feeling of his beard rubbing against my lips. He always asks me if I'm okay with him growing out his beard but I'm always adamant that I love it, I don't think I'll ever let him shave it off.

I saw his cheeks turn a bit red from the compliment. He was always so easily flattered.

"We should go back and put on some sunscreen before you burn your head again." I said as I dragged him back to the shore.

I grabbed his hand as we got to the shore, Leo always had trouble with his balance with the waves hitting his feet. His balance gets worse the bigger his belly gets, not that I mind his belly though. I've made sure to feed him well ever since we started dating. That metabolism of his will give out one day and it'll be easier for me to fatten him up.

As we got to the beach, I heard a couple of girls giggling nearby. "You guys are so cute together!" One of them yelled out. Leo blushed and looked away, and I just gave them a wink as we walked back to our beach towels.

#male tf #masculine #fat tf #hairy #male wg #reality change #male transformation #muscle tf #age progression

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seventeenpins · 10 months

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never pegged you for a quitter

pairing: QZ!Joel x F!Reader x Tess

word count: 1.7k

summary: Joel gets pegged.

content/warnings: literally just Joel getting pegged. contains--threesome, pussy eating, choking, anal, fingering, fucking w a strap-on.

a/n: just a quick thought written whilst i've been procrastinating. pls someone peg this man. please.

The room was getting dark, the natural light that had been sifting through the moth-bitten curtains starting to wane as afternoon shifted into evening. The last of the setting sun shone through the panes in cuts of vertical light, bathing Joel golden, the fluff of his hair a soft halo.

"Really," Joel grumbles, his eyes dark and jaw ticking, "You need to do all a'that?"

"C'mon, Miller. Quit whining, this whole thing was your idea and if we're gonna do it, we're gonna do it right."

"Fine, fine."

Tess grins wickedly, admiring the way he's folded over, bare ass in the air, his tensed forearms pressing a heavy dip into the bed, bearing most of his weight. "Know you can take, it, Texas," she praises.

He huffs.

The room was cool, but you could see sweat start to bead at his temple when he turns back to look at you, and on the scarred plane of his back. His breathing had started to come in soft little pants.

You press a second finger inside him slowly, gently. Your entire hand was slick with lube at this point, your fore and middle fingers pumping slowly in and out of him, going a little deeper with every press, scissoring him open nice and sloppy.

"How's it feeling?" you ask.

"Honestly?" he frowns, "It feels like taking a shit in reverse."

Tess snorts and set off a chain reaction, the three of you suddenly shaking with laughter as your fingers still sit buried buried in his ass.

"You're really paintin' a picture here," Tess tells him, and he laughs again, but this time the movement makes him twitch backwards and inadvertently presses your fingers deeper and lets out an "Oh--"

"Oh?" you ask, and Tess is smirking.

"Yeah-," he nods and lets out a little moan that he nearly tries to swallow. "Yeah," he says again, voice tight, "Tha's it."

Taking the encouragement, you start pumping your fingers into him a little harder, a little faster, hooking them just so until he's moaning again and again.

A week earlier, Joel had walked in on you and Tess in the middle of a particularly good session. You hadn't expected him back for hours, so you figured you'd have your own fun and gear back up for round two when he got back.

Instead, he'd walked in right at the moment Tess came a fourth time, screaming and sobbing and gushing on your strap--a new acquisition you'd found on a run but hadn't had a chance to try out yet.

He'd never minded before when you played without him. Hell, you and Tess had been hooking up for years before you'd met him, so he certainly didn't have any claim.

But he'd never seen you with a strap, and he'd never seen Tess fucked quite like that, and certainly not by anyone but him, hissing and sputtering and convulsing with the sheer magnitude of her orgasm. You were on your knees, holding her up by her calves, ankles hooked around your neck while you kept a tight hold on her throat. You could feel the sweat on you, dripping from your temple, making your back and chest sticky, one bead falling from the tip of your nose down between your tits and then landing on her. Neither of you caring one bit--the wetter the better.

Seeing her dazed, soaking your cock, something akin to jealousy washed over Joel. But no, not quite jealousy. Or rather, not jealousy that you were fucking her like that. Rather, jealousy that you were fucking her like that.

He realised with a start, he wanted to be on the receiving end.

You saw the moment, too. Turned towards him the moment you heard his footsteps and heard the hitch of his breath, saw the way his eyes widened and his jaw ticked, until he noticed that you were watching him. Then, his stoic mask of neutrality returned.

But you saw the way his cock was tenting his jeans.

Saw the way his eyes flashed. How intently he watched the two of you.

You and Tess placed a bet; how long would it take for him to acknowledge it, outside of the moment.

He wasn't exactly the most open guy, so you guessed three weeks, and under the influence of pills or booze. Tess guessed two months, same circumstances. You were both wrong.

To the astonishment of both of you, it was only three days later when he approached you together and, shockingly blunt, put the request to you.

"You wanna fuck me with that strap?"

As a general rule, Joel's kinda quiet. Not that he's not able to raise his voice--he can and he does. And he'll get in moods, every once in a while, after he's heard from Tommy or you have a particularly good run, where he's not exactly happy or open but he is a little less guarded.

But you don't think you've heard him quite like this before.

His chest is heaving--heavy, ragged breaths. You're pressing the head of your artificial cock into his hole, and entering with a glide. You hold him by the hip to steady him, refusing to let him buckle as you pound into him. With your other hand, you press between his balls to feel the very root of his cock. When you first rub your thumb against it he's surprised, nearly jumping at the contact. You press the digit harder and stroke him between the balls and he lets out a moan. It's beautiful, and neither you nor Tess have ever heard that from them before.

It only eggs you on.

"Those fuckin' sounds, Joel," Tess growls, "I wanna feel those moans on my pussy."

He lets out a grunt of affirmation, uninterested in forming any actual words. Tess leans against the headboard and spreads her legs, glistening cunt bared for both of you to see.

You love her like this. Toned stomach. Muscled thighs held open, damp curls leading down to her drooling lips.

You wish you could be a creature of infinite tongues and infinite hands and infinite reach; want more than anything that you could fuck Joel and press your fingers into his mouth, stroke his cock, lick Tess's dripping pussy and pinch at her nipples, grab at her waist, her hip, her thigh, all at the same time.

But you're only a person, so you steady Joel as you fuck into him harder and take your pleasure from watching the way he hooks his hands under her thighs and pulls her towards him, tongue laving over her wet folds. You cherish every moan you pull from him, and Tess buries her fist in his hair, pulling him in even closer as she rubs her clit harder and harder against his willing tongue.

"Fuck, Joel, yes-" you gasp and he shudders. The base of the strap rubs against your clit deliciously and you can feel yourself getting close.

"Takin' this cock so nice," you praise him, "I know, I know-" you soothe, "It's big, huh? You're doin so good, so fucking good-"

He is still moaning as he devours Tess, and he's getting louder and louder.

"That's it," she breathes, desperate and hungry, "Doin so good, takin care of this pussy, fuck Joel! Don't fuckin stop-!"

As you've been fucking him, you've been ignoring his cock, applying pressure only at the base. Now, you wrap your hand along his weeping, neglected length and rub your thumb over the tip, gathering the dripping liquid.

He exhales something of a sob, and the sensation tips Tess over the edge. She's shaking and convulsing on his tongue, but she doesn't let go of his hair, and he keeps licking into her as she rides it out and keeps going.

You stroke his cock in smooth, fast strokes, your wrist flicking at the end, thumb and forefinger creating a tight circle, choking his tip.

With the grip on his cock, and the angle of your thrusts, he's shaking now, too. The tip of the strap presses just right into him, brushing against his prostate, making him see sparks.

"Mmmpphhh-" Joel grunts, and Tess pulls his head off of her.

"What was that?" she asks, and he whines.

"Gonna-" he's panting, brows furrowed as he looks into her eyes, but speaks to both of you. "Can't- can't stop. Gonna- fuck, I'm gonna come!"

Tess grins and pulls his mouth back down to her. You keep fucking into him in long, deep strokes that make him twitch with each thrust. "Come for us, baby," you tell him, and grab him by the balls.

You can feel the way he tenses, and the way his balls tighten and pull up towards his body.

Then he's coming with a cry that not even Tess's cunt can muffle.

He comes in heavy, thick spurts, again and again, painting the bedsheets, shaking as he rides it through, squirming with your cock still pressed deep in his ass.

"Good boy," Tess praises as she pulls him off her drenched pussy and strokes his hair. You can hear the shake of her voice, the way it's gotten huskier. Spent. "Did so good for us."

You hold him by the hip and pull out, delighting in the way he crumples at the loss of sensation.

He buckles and lands on his mess, seemingly unbothered. He rolls over and looks up at you both, and he's grinning. You've never seen him quite like this, this totally blissed out.

"Look at that, Tess," you joke, "I think he might need a cock up his ass more often."

He rolls his eyes, but he's still smiling.

"C'mere," he says, and splays his arms out. You undo the harness and let it fall, and then nestle into his side. Tess slides in behind you. Low lamplight illuminates the room, a soft yellow blanketing the space.

He takes a deep breath, still trying to even out his breathing altogether. "Thank you," he grunts.

"'Course." you press a kiss to his temple.

"Now, you better not be too worn out," he warns, "Cos you ain't come yet."

You raise an eyebrow.

"Ten minutes," he tells you, "Just need ten minutes."

He looks between the two of you.

"And y'all better not start round two without me."

#joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #tlou #joel miller x tess servopoulos

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gayvorestories · 5 months

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Mike wiped his forehead as he set the last load from the daily delivery truck onto his dolly and waved at the driver, letting him know he was clear to back out. As the man backed down the bakery alley, he waved back to Mike, who was pushing an entire load of flour up a short ramp by the door alone. As he pushed the door open, he heard a familiar voice behind him and sighed deeply in frustration.

"Well, well, they really did get the right guy to move the heavy stuff."

"Not today, Alan."

"Oh, right, I forgot someone gets cranky when people compliment him."

"Not people, you." Mike rolled the dolly to the closet where they kept the dry ingredients and started unloading them, his thick arms bulging as he set the hefty flour bags onto the shelf.

He turned around and saw Alan standing in the doorway, looking him up and down like a cut of meat.

"You can't be back here Alan, what the fuck, get out!" he shouted.

"Oooh, feisty. You gonna slap me, daddy? Choke me a little, spit in my mouth?"

Mike grabbed him by the collar and dragged him out of the supply room as Alan laughed.

"What are you gonna do big boy, call the cops on me? I'm sure they'd looooove to hear what I have to say."

Mike stopped dead, still holding Alan by the collar.

"Yes officer, that's him! I saw him do it! He said he'd eat me too if I told, boo hoo!" Alan said in a mocking tone.

Mike released his collar and looked down at him, fuming but knowing he was powerless to do anything else.

"Now that's a good boy," Alan said as he straightened his shirt, "how about you follow me in here and keep being good?" He tugged Mike's shirt in the direction of the supply room, but he didn't budge.

"Alan please, I-"

"I own you," Alan said in a much more aggressive tone, "I caught you red handed eating that stupid slut from grindr and I got it on video." He stuck his finger in the middle of Mike's chest and smiled, "so how about you and be go back in that closet, you be a good boy, and give me what I came here for?"

Mike looked down, feeling defeated. "Everyone else is gonna be here in half an hour, can't we-"

"Then you better stop bitchin' and get on your knees." Alan grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into the supply closet, this time with Mike right behind him. The door closed behind them and Alan started to undo his pants. "What a good boy. Come on, on your knees," he said in the most degrading tone he could muster.

Mike stopped in the middle of the room and started at him. "Is this just how it is now?"

"You're mine now, handsome. This is what you do."

Mike looked at the floor for a moment. Fuck it, he thought to himself. He closed the gap between them in two steps and shoved Alan against the shelf. Hard.

Alan fell to the ground, the breath knocked out of him and his pants around his ankles. "Wh... what... the fuck?" he wheezed. He pulled up his pants as he stood, backing away from Mike and pulling his phone out of his pocket.

Mike grabbed his hand firmly, squeezing the tendons in his wrist until he yelped in pain and dropped the phone. They both looked down at hit as Mike put his full weight on it with the heel of his boot, the screen letting out a crunching sound as it splintered and popped apart.

As Mike loosened his grip, Alan met his eyes and his blood ran cold. "M-Mikey, c'mon man. I won't bug you anymore, I swear."

"No, you will."

"No, no man I swear I won't ever come near you again, just lemme go."

"I don't believe you."

"Mikey please-"

"Don't call me Mikey. You lost that right a long time ago."

"Baby-"

"Shut up!" Mike yelled as he gripped Alan by the shoulders, "I can't fucking stand you anymore. I should've done this a long time ago!"

"No, no!" Alan said as Mike opened his mouth wide. Stuffing Alan's head into his throat, he gripped him like a vice as he squirmed, slowly engulfing his shoulders as his head slid deeper into his gullet.

Alan's screams were muffled by the Mike's throat, but no one was around to hear them even if they hadn't been. Mike swallowed him down quickly, his thin, small frame easily slide into Mike's tall, broad body. As his waist passed Mike's mouth, he felt warm breath on his cock before it slid across his tongue, and down Mike's hungry throat with the rest of him.

On the outside, Mike was surprised how easy he was going down. He had been a small guy, but he was slipping into his stomach far easier than any other guy he'd ever eaten. As Alan's thighs started to go down, he leaned up and let gravity slide him the rest of the way in. His mostly-flat belly was bowed out and squirming, growing larger as the rest of Alan tumbled into his stomach. Giving one last gulp, he felt his body expand as his meal finished settling in.

He picked the phone up off the floor and started out the door towards his car. His white work shirt was riding up his belly significantly, but he kept an extra large in his trunk in case of an unexpected meal. Despite being muffled, Mike's yelling could be heard from inside of him, so he hurried, his belly swaying as he jogged across the back alley.

Alan kicked violently as he slipped his shirt over his head and pulled out the large button-up that looked like his usual wear.

"Please! Please don't do this!" Alan pleaded, "you can't do this to me!"

Mike flexed his abs as he put on the shirt, squeezing Alan painfully as he cried out. Once the final button was done, he tossed the apron onto himself and slipped back in. Checking himself in the mirror, he was definitely rounder, but as long as he stayed out of the way, no one would notice.

"Mikey, please, let me out!"

Ah, right. That, he thought to himself. Time to start the electric mixer I guess.

The surface of his stomach shifted and squirmed as he looked over that days pickup orders, deciding which ones to pick out first. His stomach groaned and gurgled as he scooped out ingredients into the mixer, Alan's panicked form making bulges and movements under his clothes as he worked. Just as his coworkers were coming in, he flipped the switch and the loud mixer drowned out any sounds Alan was making.

As they entered, he kept his back to them, giving a friendly wave over his shoulder but otherwise pretending to work at the counter on the far wall. When they walked into the front to begin opening up, he quickly slipped into the walk-in and grabbed all the ingredients he needed to start working on the filling for the pastries, avoiding everyone's gaze while his stomach worked overtime trying to shut up his meal.

Pouring the various fruits and liquids into the pot to start making a fruit filling, he winced in pain as Alan started kicking against him frantically. Turning the heat down, he looked around the room and started for the employee bathroom when he nearly walked directly into his coworker Marshall.

"Oh, hey Mike, you get started on those orders?"

"Yeah, yeah, I got the first one going, just gotta step to the bathroom real quick, waiting on the water to boil."

"Cool, cool." Marshall walked away and Mike let out a sigh of relief that he'd completely missed the movement in his midsection.

Locking the door behind him, Mike hung up his apron and leaned on the wall, unbuttoning his shirt and rubbing his fuzzy, bloated belly.

"God, you're almost more annoying like this," he said to Alan, who squirmed in response. "What's wrong, not having fun in there?" he taunted, "is my belly gross and uncomfortable?"

Alan's muffled voice was barely audible, "please, let me out, I won't say nothin' to anyone, please!"

Mike grinned and rubbed his belly, "I don't know, after months of this bullshit it's nice to have the upper hand for a little while. Besides," he said letting out a little moan, "it feels good."

Alan let out a sob and kicked as Mike rubbed the firm surface of his belly.

"Mmm, just like that. I can't wait to feel you sliding around in my guts tomorrow."

"You're a fucking monster!"

"I thought that's what you loved about me," Mike cooed as he rubbed his belly firmly, "that and my biceps. I bet I'm gonna get some good gains out of you, been a while since I've eaten a man."

Alan made no noise in response other than a muffled yell as he punched and kicked in vain.

"Mmm, keep doing that. Feels so good, almost makes me wish my stomach wasn't gonna pulverize you." Mike's stomach let out a low grumble and he chuckled, "almost."

He buttoned his shirt and threw his apron back on, washing his hands quickly and heading back out the door and to the kitchen where his pot was starting to boil. He went back to his job, the squirming in his stomach slowing down considerably as he worked. The time passed quickly as he rolled, shaped, baked, filled, and packaged the pastries for the afternoon pickup. Leaning back on the table, he wiped his forehead on the back of his wrist as Marshall walked by.

"Damn bud, big lunch?" he said as he walked by.

Mike's eyes widened and he scrambled for a reply. "Oh, yeah, I'm on a bulk right now," he chuckled nervously.

"Hey man, clearly whatever you do works," Marshall laughed back. He gave Mike's belly a pat as he walked past, "just keep off the customer orders and we're all good."

Mike laughed and started filling up the mixer again, feeling his heart slow down to a normal rate again. The pat disturbed Alan enough he started to shift around again and Mike gave his belly a gentle rub while he was alone. "Shh, just relax," he whispered, "no more fighting."

As if answering for Alan, his stomach let out a low grumble.

"There you go," he whispered as he gave his belly a pat.

He switched the mixer on and went back to work, the kicking and thrashing replaced by shifting, squeezing aches as his stomach worked on Alan's body. As he popped open a set of boxes to fill up, his evening coworker showed up and put on his apron.

"Woah, dude," Tyler said looking at his belly.

"Oh, uh. I'm uh... bulking," Mike said nervously.

"Oh. Okay," Tyler said, "one hell of a bulk, what'd you eat?"

"Just a big lunch. Buffet spot."

"Cool man. We got any more orders left?"

"Just this one, gotta fill the boxes and put the stickers on 'em."

"Neat, Marshall is good up front so I'll help."

"You don't-" Mike tried to say as Tyler read the sheet and went back for the pastries.

He returned quickly and set the tray down on an empty spot on the table. Mike handed him one of the first boxes he had ready and he started to fill it, taking his time to make sure the warm pastries were arranged neatly.

Every minute they had to stand close to each other Mike got more nervous, trying his best to focus on assembling the boxes. As he handed Tyler the next one his stomach let out a low groan and he caught Tyler's eyes wandering towards his belly.

As he popped open another box, his stomach let out smaller groans and wet digestive sounds. Tyler could clearly hear them, but was feigning ignorance and ignoring it. The timer on the mixer buzzed and it slowed to a halt, the background noise slowly fading out. When the room was completely quiet, the low grumbles of his stomach echoed on the walls.

Tyler kept glancing at his belly and Mike kept looking away nervously as he put the final box together and started to fill them himself. Unlike Tyler's precise placement, Mike simply filled the box and moved to the next one, desperate to get away from the table.

"Hey man, no need to rush, last order of the day right? We just gotta clean up and wait for closing time."

"Yeah, yeah, just eager to sit down is all."

Tyler nodded and kept working, the two of them finishing quickly. "Alright, you sit back, I got cleanup."

"I can-"

"I got it, I got it," Tyler insisted, "you did all the other orders without me, I'll at least clean up."

Mike was in no mood to argue over it and sat down on a chair in the back of the kitchen. "Thanks, man." As Tyler swept up and wiped the counters down, Mike leaned back, his stomach starting to really pick up in intensity, groaning and gurgling loud enough Tyler could hear it across the room.

Just as Tyler was finishing up, Marshall walked in, wiping his hands and shutting off the lights up front. "Alright boys, closing time. I got the front locked up. Mike, try not to throw your back out on this bulk, we need a baker and your ancient mixer scares the shit out of me."

All three of them laughed as Marshall grabbed his keys and slipped out the back.

Mike stood up and started towards the employee office to grab his own keys as Tyler came in behind him.

"So... what'd you actually eat?"

Mike froze. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"I think you do."

Mike turned and looked at Tyler. He was short and scrawny, Mike could probably lift him with one hand. He took a step towards Tyler, cornering him and nearly pressing his belly against him. "I think I'm not sure what you're tryin' to say."

Tyler's face turned red as Mike's belly was directly in front of him. "I-I, uh."

God I hate double-entrees, Mike thought to himself as he steeled himself to force Tyler down too. "You what?"

"I... think you look good... like this," Tyler said, a mixture of fear and arousal in his voice as the reality of the situation started to hit him.

"Like what?"

Tyler swallowed. "Please don't eat me, I've known a while, I think it's hot," he said quickly and nervously.

Mike was caught off guard by how forward he was and furrowed his brow. "I uh. Oh."

"Yeah, uh. Can I... touch?"

Mike blinked a few times. "Sure, go ahead."

Tyler's eyes widened as he touched Mike's belly. "Fuck, it's so firm."

Mike took off his apron and started unbuttoning his shirt before Tyler took over. He backed away from the corner and leaned back on the table in the middle of the room as Tyler slowly unbuttoned his shirt and gently touched his belly. Opening it slowly, Tyler looked Mike in the eyes as he gently rubbed the sides of his belly. "When?"

"This morning, just before we opened."

"Holy shit, is he still moving?"

"No, he stopped a little while ago."

"Fuck... that's so hot."

Mike snorted, "you like that?"

"Fuck yeah. Do... do you like it like that, or is it just eating?"

"Oh, I like it like that too," Mike said with a wink.

Tyler bent down and kissed the top of Mike's belly and looked up at him. He kissed down the surface slowly, lowering onto his knees as he reached the underside of Mike's belly. As he undid Mike's pants, he ran his tongue around his bellybutton, sticking it deep in and nibbling the surface of his firm, round belly.

"Fuck, keep going," Mike moaned softly.

Tyler slid his pants down and was greeted by Mike's hard, thick cock in his face. He slid his lips over the tip slowly, getting it nice and wet as he bobbed further and further down. The head of his cock pressed hard against Tyler's throat as he reached the bottom, his firm, fuzzy underbelly pressed against Tyler's face.

He bobbed up and down on Mike's cock as Mike gently tugged his hair. "Fuck, your mouth feels so good," Mike moaned.

Tyler let out a soft moan as Mike started to thrust hard into his mouth, grabbing the back of his head and using him like a fleshlight.

"I'm... oh fuck I'm gonna cum," Mike moaned as he started to shoot. He gripped Tyler's hair tightly and let out a low, husky moan as Tyler eagerly swallowed the load he pumped down his throat. He licked Mike's cock clean and sat back on his knees, panting and fixing his hair.

"Are you... still.. gonna eat me?" Tyler panted.

"Did you want me to?" Mike said with a grin.

"No, no but I wanna watch."

"I think I can arrange that."

Tyler smiled, "I'd like that."

"Do that with your mouth again, and I'll give you anything you like," Mike said as he buttoned his shirt.

Tyler stood and ran his hand along Mike's bloated stomach, "oh, I'll do that any time you want." He leaned in for a kiss and Mike followed through, kissing him gently on the lips.

"How about my place, this weekend?"

"Need me to bring a friend?" Tyler asked with a sly grin.

"Oh I have a dinner guest in mind," Mike chuckled, "just bring yourself."

The headed towards the door together, and before splitting off to their respective cars Mike paused, "oh, and bring some lube, too."

Tyler smiled and nodded, "see you then."

#male pred #male prey #unwilling prey #digestion #m/m vore

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ssa-dado · 6 days

Text

4 - Thesis

Aaron Hotchner x bau!fem!reader

Genre: fluff, slow burn

Summary: Gideon urgently pulls Hotch and you into a complex case, leading to a sleepless night of intense work discovering the unsub's fascination with a symbolic, twisted version of a note design. Despite exhaustion, your insights prove invaluable, strengthening your bond with Hotch as partners as something seems to shift. As Rossi and Gideon joke about their own partnership comparing it to your own with Hotch, it’s clear that a deeper connection is unfolding. Warnings: Usual CM case stuff described in detail, Sapio intoxicating chemistry, Rossi going wild.

Word Count: 6.1k Dado's Corner: Is it fair for me to say that I'm obsessed with the two of them? Like c'mon get together already. Note to self: never study for your history of architecture exam again while being obsessed with a crime show, even if this dream I had inspired this chapter. I am afraid of my own mind. Enjoy these bigger breadcrums while you can

previous part ; masterlist

Thesis - Hotch’s smile widened, his eyes crinkling in that way that had become increasingly familiar. “Maybe. But we make a strong duo, and I wouldn’t change that."

•

Gideon appeared in the doorway of his office, his usually calm demeanor slightly more tense, he scanned the room, his eyes settling first on Hotch, who was engrossed in a case file, and then on you. There was a look of deliberation on his face, as if he’d been weighing this decision for some time.

“Hotch, Y/N,” Gideon’s voice cut sharply through the bullpen, laced with urgency that left no room for hesitation. “I need you both at the train station in 30. Grab your go-bag, there’s no time.”

Hotch’s head snapped up, a flash of confusion in his eyes that matched your own. You exchanged a fleeting look, a mix of surprise and adrenaline sparking between you. It was only your second time being directly pulled into one of Gideon’s cases, and you couldn’t deny the rush of nerves mingling with excitement. This was what you had been working so hard for: to be trusted, to be out there on the field.

You didn’t waste a second. Hotch nodded at you, a silent agreement to move quickly, and the two of you scrambled to collect your go-bags, the weight of the situation palpable. Gideon was already halfway out the door, and you barely had time to sling your bag over your shoulder before sprinting after him, Hotch close on your heels.

The ride to the station was a blur, Gideon’s SUV tearing through traffic as if the urgency of the case had seeped into the very engine. The city whirled past in a smear of lights and noise, each stoplight feeling like an eternity as the clock ticked down.

“We’re cutting it close,” Hotch muttered under his breath, his gaze locked on the navugator as he calculated every second lost to traffic.

You glanced over at him, his usually calm demeanor strained by the pace. “We’ll make it,” you said, more to convince yourself than him, feeling the SUV lurch forward as Gideon pushed the gas harder.

The station finally loomed into view, the blare of train horns filling your ears, Gideon pulled to an abrupt stop, the SUV barely parked before you and Hotch were out the door, sprinting towards the platform.

“Which track?” you asked, your voice edged with urgency as you scanned the sea of people.

“Track 4,” Gideon called out, his tone clipped as he led the way, dodging through the crowd with a precision that only came from years in the field. Hotch was right behind him, his stride purposeful, and you kept up, adrenaline driving you forward.

Inside, Rossi was already seated scooted newt to the window, a wry smile tugging at his lips as he flipped through a stack of manila folders filled with crime scene photos. He looked up as you, Hotch, and Gideon rushed into the coach, sarcasm lacing his voice. “Well, well, look who decided to show up. Another minute later, and you’d have had to wait six hours to catch the next train by sheer coincidence.”

Gideon ignored the jab, his focus entirely on the case as he took the seat beside Rossi. Hotch gave you a quick, knowing glance, Rossi’s dark humor was just his way of dealing with the tension, and you both settled in, bracing for what was about to unfold.

Rossi slid thefolders toward you, each one packed with gruesome crime scene photos, autopsy reports, and detailed maps dotted with red marks. The images were laid out in stark, brutal clarity: victims of varying ages, genders, and backgrounds, each one more unsettling than the last. It was clear from the first glance that this was no ordinary case.

Gideon broke the ice, addressing you all. “We’ve been tracking a series of murders across five states. Each one is escalating in both violence and complexity. The victims seem random: different ages, genders, backgrounds. But there’s a pattern here, one that’s been slipping through the cracks.” He pointed to a topographical map spread across the table, each crime scene marked by a pin as the locations created a road map of horrors that the unsub was crafting.

“We’re missing something,” Gideon continued, his eyes scanning the photos again. “And we need to find it before this turns into something even worse.”

Rossi leaned back, his eyes narrowing at the map as he considered the gruesome puzzle before them. “Hope you two are ready,” he added, his voice losing the sarcasm, now laced with a hint of urgency. “We’re running out of time, and this guy isn’t waiting around for us to catch up.”

Gideon continued: "This unsub is not just killing for the sake of it, he’s making a statement.”

Hotch studied the pictures in his file intently, his eyes narrowing as he analyzed the data. “What kind of statement?”

Rossi leaned forward, setting down the photos. “He’s treating these murders like a grand design, but what that is, we haven’t figured out yet. That’s why we need fresh eyes on this, someone who can see what we might be missing.”

Gideon’s gaze shifted between you and Hotch, and you could feel the unspoken pressure settle over you. “That’s why I’m bringing the two of you in on this, we need different perspectives: Hotch, your tactical and organizational expertise and Y/N, your philosophical insight. We believe this unsub’s actions are possibly influenced by a deeper intellectual motive, they are too calculated.”

Your heart quickened at the prospect of tackling a case of this magnitude. You had been itching to prove yourself on something more complex, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity. Hotch, meanwhile, maintained his calm, analytical demeanor, though you could tell by the way he was already flipping through the photos, his fingers on his right hand fidgeting, that his mind was churning with possibilities.

“What do we know about the victims?” Hotch asked, breaking the silence.

Rossi clicked again, bringing up individual profiles of the victims: names, ages, occupations. “They range from college students to retired professionals, all abducted within a few miles of their homes and found in remote locations weeks later. Cause of death varies: strangulation, blunt force trauma, some even poisoned. The one constant is the way they’re buried: each positioned carefully, with their hands folded as if in a state of peace.”

Hotch glanced at you, his eyes flickering with a hint of something, was it respect, or perhaps curiosity? “What do you think, Y/N?”

You leaned in, your eyes scanning the screen as you absorbed the details. “This isn’t just about control. He’s performing, staging these bodies in a way that reflects some internal logic or belief system, making each victim part of a larger narrative.”

Hotch agreed, his voice firm. “We need to visit these sites. We can start with the most recent site. We need to get ahead of this guy before he escalates again.”

As you arrived to the police station, you immediately gathered your notes and headed out to the SUVs, your mind racing with theories and questions. The drive to the first burial site was tense, each of you lost in your thoughts. Hotch was focused, his eyes fixed on the road, while you sifted through the case file, trying to absorb every detail. When you finally arrived, the scene was breathtaking: a hillside with a clear view of the surrounding landscape, marked by the telltale signs of the unsub’s careful work.

You and Hotch began analyzing the site, marking the locations of the victims and sketching the layout. It was slow, painstaking work, but every detail mattered. The entire time, you felt Hotch’s eyes on you, analyzing your every move, testing your instincts. You overcompensated by diving into every bit of evidence, pushing yourself harder than usual. You wanted to show them that despite your academic background, you could handle the practical side of profiling just as well.

“What do you see?” he asked, crouching beside one of the markers. “Anything that stands out?”

You squinted at the slope, trying to piece together the bigger picture. The way the victims were positioned, the spacing between them: it wasn’t random.

“He’s not just picking random spots,” you said, more to yourself than to Hotch. “The bodies are placed with a purpose, almost like... coordinates on a map.”

Hotch looked up, intrigued. “Coordinates?”

You nodded, pointing to the markers. “Think of it like a blueprint. He’s not just killing; he’s mapping something out. The hill, the elevation, even the orientation of the bodies, they all look like elements of a larger design.”

Hotch studied the scene, his expression intense. “A design that only he understands.”

You stood side by side, feeling the weight of the case settling over you both. And as you exchanged a look with Hotch, you realized that whatever this unsub was building, you were determined to tear it down, together, even if this was only the beginning.

By the time you returned to the accommodation that night, you were beyond exhausted, but rest wasn’t an option. The case had drained not only your energy but also the BAU’s humble budget, most of the funds had gone to buying last-minute train tickets to get the team out there as fast as possible, leaving little room for comfort. Rossi’s expectation of privacy had taken another hit, and at that point you were convinced the Bureau was skimping on accommodations just to see how long it would take for him to snap. At this rate, if they kept pushing, being aware of Rossi’s sassy side, you were sure he’d threaten to leave the BAU over it.

“You’ll be sharing with Hotch,” Gideon had said without much ceremony as you stood in the cramped hallway, barely keeping your eyes open. “Rossi and I have the other room.”

You exchanged a quick, knowing look with Hotch, both of you too worn out to even joke about the fresh material handed to you on a silver platter: Rossi and Gideon sharing a room yet again, practically married at that point. But the urgency of the case weighed heavily on everyone’s shoulders, and you didn’t have the energy to tease, not when the job ahead was still so daunting. You both simply nodded, both of you being aware that it wasn’t the best time to make light of the situation. Hopefully there would be time for that later, if you ever got a chance to catch your breath.

When you and Hotch arrived at the room, he carried himself with the same cool composure he always did. "You can take the bed by the window," he said, setting his go-bag down on the other bed. "I don’t mind."

"Thanks," you muttered, grateful for the small gesture. You unpacked your things in silence, acutely aware of every sound, every movement as the daunting images of the day still haunted your mind. Hotch didn’t seem bothered at all, which you found almost impressive. He had this remarkable ability to compartmentalize everything, to keep his personal and professional lives neatly separated, while you were still trying to learn that.

The night stretched on, but sleep remained elusive. You and Hotch sat in the dimly lit hotel room, the hum of the overhead lamp the only sound besides the steady scratching of pen on paper as you pored over the case files. The victims’ faces stared back at you from the photographs, haunting in their stillness, each one a piece of the gruesome puzzle you were trying to solve.

"We need to reconsider the pattern of these burial sites," Hotch said, his voice low, as though speaking too loudly might disturb the dead. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, his eyes tired but focused. "There's something deliberate here."

You nodded, flipping through the photos. "It’s too precise to be random."

Hotch spread out the map on the desk, meticulously marking the locations where each body had been found, his movements precise and controlled. “If we can figure out the geographical connection, we’ll be closer to understanding the unsub’s mindset. He’s organized, methodical. This guy sees himself as superior, smarter than everyone else. But it’s not just about the killing. He’s making a statement, flashing his intellect.”

You studied the photos and map intently, feeling a strange pull as you tried to make sense of the unsub’s pattern. “It’s intellectual arrogance,” you said, your voice edged with conviction. “He’s not just trying to get away with it; he’s challenging us to keep up. He wants us to see how clever he is.”

Hotch glanced at you, he could sense you were onto something, something that went beyond the surface details.

Meanwhile, your focus returned to the crime scene photos, and your attention locked onto the contours of the hill where the bodies had been buried. The arrangement was far from random, there was a disturbing intentionality in the layout, as if every placement had been meticulously planned.

“The hill’s shape,” you murmured, more to yourself than to Hotch. “It’s not just any hill. There’s an intentional pattern here. It’s like he’s using the terrain itself to say something.”

Hotch leaned in, catching the shift in your tone. He was intrigued, but he knew better than to interrupt your thought process. “What are you thinking?” he asked, his voice low, patient, almost coaxing you to continue.

Without responding directly, you grabbed a blank sheet of paper and laid it flat on the desk. Hotch watched as you began sketching an axonometric view of the hill, marking each burial site with quick, deliberate strokes. His brow furrowed as you connected the dots, each line revealing something more intricate.

“You’re mapping it topographically?” Hotch asked, leaning closer, the shift in his body language showing his growing interest. “Like a three-dimensional geographical profile?”

You nodded, the thrill of discovery pushing you forward. “Yes. The placements aren’t just random; they’re about the shape of the land. Look here.” You pointed at the locations marked on your sketch. “If you connect the burial sites, they form a spiral, a descending path down the hill.”

Hotch’s gaze sharpened as he traced the spiral with his eyes. “A spiral… That’s deliberate. It’s not a shape we see often in criminal cases. It suggests precision, control, narcissism. He’s not just killing, he’s orchestrating a narrative. He’s not just above everyone but also he’s putting himself on display, like an artist with his masterpiece.”

You nodded, and a familiar philosophical concept began to take shape in your mind. “This isn’t just about his ego—it’s about his worldview. It reminds me of Hegel’s dialectics, which are often geometrically visualized as a spiral. Think of it like climbing a mountain: each step forward, the thesis, faces resistance - the antithesis - and then finds a way forward, the synthesis. The journey isn’t linear. It’s about overcoming obstacles, each one contributing to a higher level of understanding.”

Hotch’s expression tightened, understanding where you were going with this. “But he’s twisting that. Instead of climbing, he’s descending. He’s turning the idea of progress on its head. This isn’t evolution; it’s devolution. He’s rewriting the narrative, making his own rules.”

You paused, something clicking into place as you stared at the drawing. You turned the page slightly, looking at it from a new angle. “But why a spiral? Why this particular hill?” you murmured, almost thinking aloud.

Hotch watched you closely, seeing the wheels turning in your mind. “What do you see?”

You flipped the drawing around, angling it from his perspective. Your pulse quickened as the shape of the spiral took on a new form, one that tugged at your memory. “Look at it upside-down.”

Hotch tilted his head, his eyes following yours as the spiral transformed before him. It wasn’t just a path on a hill—it was something far more deliberate and grandiose.

“This hill…” You traced the lines again, pointing out the specific angles, the calculated precision. “The way the bodies are arranged, the proportions between the hight and the width of each turn, the precise slope that the path follows. The way each of these elements have been designed in a human scale"

"It's architectural, something grand and of cultural importance, like a temple, a church, a museum..." Hotch finally understands.

"Yes, you're right! Wait, what if it resembled the structure of the Guggenheim Museum in New York? Wright designed the volume of the main exhibition hall as an inverted hollow truncated cone, the distribution corresponds to a ramp spiraling upward. But our unsub has flipped that idea on its head.”

Hotch’s brows shot up, surprise flashing across his face. “The Guggenheim? You’re saying he’s mimicking Frank Lloyd Wright’s design?”

“Not exactly,” you replied, your excitement spilling over. “It’s not a copy, but it’s inspired. Think about it: the Guggenheim is all about ascension, showcasing art as you move upward. But here, the unsub’s using the land to create a reverse. The bodies are placed almost like the artworks displayed on the walls of the museum, but instead of ascending, they’re spiraling down, each one a grotesque ‘exhibit’ in his twisted gallery.”

Hotch looked at you, a rare smile tugging at his lips, something warmer than his usual stoic demeanor. “Are you sure you secretaly also don't have an architecture degree?”

You laughed, caught off guard by his sudden lightness, you teased him starting an over the top philosophical rant “Nope, just psycology, linguistics and philosophy. Although architecture and philosophy aren’t so different. For Hegel, architecture represents humanity’s attempt to impose order on the natural world, creating structures that embody collective meaning. It’s not just about function, but about revealing the spirit of a specific time, showing how men connect with their environment through design and symbolism.”

Hotch chuckled softly, the sound low and unexpected, and it made you smile wider. “Keep talking like this, and I might have to suggest you take up teaching. You’ve got the lecture style nailed.”

Feigning mock offense, you shot back, “Careful, Hotch, or I’ll end up rewriting your whole syllabus."

Hotch’s eyes softened, a playful glint flashing in them, something uncharacteristic but welcome. “You rewrite my syllabus, and I’ll make sure to audit your classes. Fair trade?”

You shared a brief moment, the light banter cutting through the tension that had weighed on you both throughout the case. It was quick, but it left a lingering warmth, a connection that felt deeper than the job itself, a quiet intimacy that spoke volumes without needing any more words.

You cleared your throat, bringing the focus back. “We need to verify this before we present it. I need to check the actual measurements of the Guggenheim floors, just to be sure we're not reading too much into this.”

Hotch glanced at his watch, calculating the remaining hours of the night. “There’s a library a few miles from here. If we hurry, we can make it before it closes.” He grabbed his jacket, already moving toward the door, pausing only to look back at you with a determined expression. “I’ll drive.”

You smirked, brushing past him as he held the door open. “You always do.”

It was nothing grand, just a small, familiar gesture in the stillness of the night, but it carried a weight that lingered in the air between you, subtle yet undeniable.

Walking side by side, you couldn’t quite pinpoint the shift, but it was there, a quiet, unspoken connection that felt like uncharted territory. This case, and whatever was unfolding between you and Hotch, was leading you somewhere neither of you expected.

The drive to the library was filled with a comfortable silence, Hotch’s expression still carefully composed, but there was a softness in his features now, a slight relaxation in his usually tense posture. It was a small change, almost imperceptible, but you noticed, and though neither of you would acknowledge it, something was shifting.

Arriving at the library, you quickly located a book on modern American architecture and flipped to the section on the Guggenheim. You traced the diagrams and floor heights, your finger running over the details as you compared them to your axonometric drawing of the hill. But as you scanned the measurements, your heart sank, the pieces not fitting the way you’d hoped.

“The measurements don’t match,” you murmured, the weight of disappointment settling in. “We were wrong.”

Hotch stood beside you, close enough that you could feel his presence, grounding you. He didn’t seem fazed by your frustration, instead, he studied the diagrams with calm determination, his brow furrowing slightly. “Wait,” he said, his voice steady. “What if the unsub isn’t using American measurements? What if he’s thinking in meters instead of feet?”

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his as the realization clicked. There was a spark of something that passed between you, lingering longer than it should. “Of course. If he’s from a country that uses the metric system, he’d think in meters.”

Your fingers moved quickly, recalculating the heights and converting them into meters. As the numbers shifted, everything started to fall into place: the spiral, the Guggenheim, the inverted truncated cone. It all made sense. The measurements lined up perfectly with the victims’ positions on the hill, validating the theory that had seemed so impossible just moments before.

“We were right,” you whispered, relief and amazement flooding through you. “He must have studied or lived in a country that uses the metric system. His entire design is based on that.”

Hotch’s eyes met yours, a rare warmth flickering there as he gave a small nod of approval. “Good work,” he said softly, his voice carrying a note of pride that sent a flutter through your chest. “We’ve got the final piece.”

As you left the library, the first light of dawn painted the sky in soft hues, a quiet promise of a new day. You and Hotch exchanged a glance, something unspoken passing between you. The night had been long and exhausting, but the shared victory left a sweet spark lingering in the early morning air. Neither of you could put a name to it, not yet, and neither of you seemed ready to let go of whatever was unfolding.

As you and Hotch entered the hotel lobby, Rossi and Gideon were waiting, both looking ready for the day’s briefing despite the early hour. Rossi leaned against the reception desk, watching the two of you with a bemused expression.

Gideon glanced at his watch and then back at you both, his eyebrow lifting in mock surprise. “Did you two even sleep, or are you trying to set a new BAU record for consecutive hours worked?”

Rossi smirked, shaking his head as he took in the sight of you and Hotch, the unspoken exhaustion clear in both of your eyes. “I’m starting to think you two don’t even know what a bed looks like. Or maybe you’re just having too much fun playing detective all night?”

You and Hotch exchanged a knowing look, a silent acknowledgment of the sleepless night. The bond between you had been growing steadily, marked by subtle shifts and stolen moments, and while neither of you would admit it, you were becoming more in tune with each other’s rhythms, especially when it came to the job.

“Not exactly,” Hotch replied, his tone dry and laced with just the faintest hint of a smile. You couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes crinkled slightly at the corners, the way he carried himself: focused, determined, and maybe just a touch lighter in your company. “But we cracked the code.”

Rossi chuckled, crossing his arms. “Next time you two decide to pull an all-nighter, let me know. I could use your room and finally get some privacy around here.”

Gideon’s usual sternness softened slightly at Rossi’s jab about the lack of personal space, though his focus remained sharp. “So, what’s the breakthrough? You’ve been at this all night.”

You and Hotch launched into your explanation, laying out the theory behind the inverted spiral, the Guggenheim, and the unsub’s likely academic background. As you spoke, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him, noticing the way there was a certain intensity about him when he spoke, an underlying passion that only surfaced when the pieces of a case started to align.

Hotch continued, drawing the connections between the spiral and the unsub’s obsession. “We read at the library that Frank Lloyd Wright’s designs are not just architectural; they’re philosophical. Wright didn’t just build structures, he crafted experiences, integrating his work with nature in a way that transcended the ordinary. Our unsub is attempting something similar, but in a twisted, lethal manner.”

Rossi leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “So, he sees himself as an architect of death. He’s not just killing, he’s designing each murder, making it a part of a grand, dark statement.”

“Exactly,” Hotch agreed, his voice steady yet charged with conviction. “He believes he’s creating something monumental. The spiral is his signature, an artistic flourish that he believes sets him apart. And the use of the metric system? That narrows our pool of suspects significantly. He’s likely foreign or has spent a significant amount of time studying abroad, probably in Europe where Wright’s influence still holds sway.”

You nodded, and as your attention drifted to Hotch, you couldn’t help but notice something captivating; Every time his gaze shifted toward Rossi, standing in front of the window with the morning light filtering in, the usual dark intensity of Hotch’s eyes softened, revealing an unexpected depth. What you had always thought of as a near-black now transformed into a rich, warm chestnut, flecks of amber catching the light. It was a subtle shift, but one that unveiled an unexpected beauty you hadn’t fully appreciated until now.

As your mind kept wandering, another thought emerged - one that eroded the edges of your consciousness. “There’s one more thing,” you said, your tone laced with urgency. “If the unsub is using the spiral as a symbol of his intellect and superiority, he’s not finished. He’s building toward something, a final project. If we can figure out what that is, we can anticipate his next move.”

Hotch exchanged a look with you, as if you stole the words that still hadn't left his mouth yet, a flicker of shared understanding passing between you both. You had spent enough time working together that night you could read his thoughts before he spoke, and he could anticipate yours.

“We need to revisit the burial site” Hotch said, his tone thoughtful yet precise. “Pay close attention to any symbolic references, especially those linked to architecture. He’s not just mimicking Wright’s designs; he’s embracing Wright’s philosophy. Y/N pointed out that Wright believed architecture was an extension of the self, an embodiment of personal ideals. This unsub sees his work the same way.”

“Wright’s designs were about breaking the mold,” you said, adding to Hotch’s theory. “Wright was a revolutionary who viewed his designs as more than just buildings, they were personal expressions, challenges to traditional norms, and a reflection of his unique vision of the world. He wanted to create spaces that defied conventional expectations. Our unsub has a similar mindset: a desire to be seen as intellectually superior, someone whose ‘work’ can’t be understood by the average person.”

Rossi leaned back, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "Did he work on residential projects or did some urban planning of his has been realised by any means?"

You understood where Rossi was going “What about the Usonian Houses project?" You turned to Hotch, eager to know if he thought the same thing as well.

He nodded, his focus sharp as he continued explaining to the seasoned profilers. “Usonian Houses were Wright’s vision of the future, simple yet sophisticated homes designed to revolutionize American living. Each one was crafted with meticulous attention to detail, they weren’t just houses; they were statements. Wright designed each to be unique, tailored to the landscape and the needs of the homeowner. If our unsub idolizes Wright this deeply, it’s likely he lives in one of these homes himself. To him, it would embody everything he values: elegance, meticulous control, and the feeling of being distinctly set apart from everyone else.”

As Hotch spoke, his voice steady and assured, you couldn’t help but be drawn in, not just by his words but by the way he delivered them. There was a quiet passion in his explanation, Hotch’s understanding of Wright’s philosophy wasn’t just an analytical connection; it was something he seemed to grasp on a deeper level, and as you listened, you couldn’t help but feel captivated by when he hit on something that truly fascinated him.

“He’s not just living in a house,” Hotch continued, his gaze flicking to you for a brief moment before returning to the team. “He’s living in a symbol of his superiority. A Usonian House would be his sanctuary, a place where he can manipulate, control, and perfect every detail, just like he’s doing with his crimes.”

You watched him as he spoke, noting the way his hands gestured slightly when he was particularly engaged. It was easy to get lost in his presence, to feel the pull of his passion for the subject as much as the pull of the case itself.

The realization struck you like a jolt of electricity. “And the Usonian Houses were Wright’s vision of perfection. Our unsub is killing according to those values. His admiration for Wright is more than just an interest, it’s a driving force in his crimes.”

Gideon, who had been listening intently, chimed in. “Then that’s where we start. We need to find any Usonian Houses in the area. Let's also focus on finding previous owners, or people curating them.”

The team moved swiftly, sifting through public records and historical registries. It didn’t take long for Hotch to uncover a promising lead: a privately owned Usonian House on the outskirts of a nearby town, linked to a man who fit the unsub’s profile perfectly. He was a reclusive former adjunct professor of architectural history, Victor Langley, with a history of erratic behavior and academic conflicts.

Rossi scanned the details, his eyes narrowing. “Victor Langley. Let go from his teaching position two years ago for increasingly bizarre behavior and clashes with his colleagues. Neighbors say he’s practically a ghost, only seen when he’s making strange modifications to his house.”

Gideon hung up the phone, his expression grave. “He’s barely seen outside. This house isn’t just where he lives, it’s his world, where he feels in total control.”

Hotch glanced at the three of you, his gaze intense, his determination unmistakable. You noticed the set of his jaw, the unwavering focus that drew you in every time he spoke. “This is his base, where he plans everything. Just like Wright used his designs to reshape the world, Langley is using his house to orchestrate his murders, and that’s where we’re going to find him.”

As Hotch turned to you, his eyes locked on yours with a newfound intensity. The nature of the sudden shift you had on him was becoming impossible to ignore, but for now, there was a job to finish before you could tackle it with some healthy dose of introspection.

The team mobilized quickly, setting up a perimeter around the property. As you approached, the Usonian House loomed in the distance, its low-slung roof and natural stone walls blending into the landscape. It was a beautiful, breathtaking reminder of Wright’s genius, but now, a testament to Langley’s horrors.

Rossi led the team as you breached the property, moving swiftly and silently. The house was meticulously kept, with architectural books stacked neatly on shelves, blueprints scattered on a large oak desk, and walls adorned with sketches of spirals and complex designs.

As you watched Langley being taken away, you couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of finality. The case had been riddled with the unsub’s twisted interpretations, but you had seen through his façade, piecing together the puzzle of his mind in a way that Wright himself might have appreciated, if only for the sheer madness of it all.

Back at the precinct, the team gathered for the debriefing, dissecting every detail of Langley’s motives and the psychological profile that had driven him down such a twisted path. As each member contributed their insights, you found your gaze drifting toward Hotch more than once, catching the subtle way he absorbed every detail, his mind always one step ahead. As the meeting wrapped up, Hotch made his way over to you, his usual stoic expression softening as he nodded in approval.

“You did very well on this one” Hotch said, his voice low but carrying a rare warmth.

You felt a flicker of pride, buoyed by his words, and met his gaze with a smile. “Thanks, Hotch. But honestly, I was amazed at how much you knew about Wright. The way you absorbed everything at the library and explained it with such passion… it was impressive.”

Hotch’s lips curved into a rare, genuine smile, one that made his eyes light up in a way you couldn’t help but notice. “Guess I’m a quick study, or maybe I had a great teacher last night” he replied, the faintest trace of humor in his voice.

Before either of you could linger too long in the moment, Rossi strolled over, wearing a teasing grin. “You two are becoming quite the dynamic duo. But if you keep pulling these all-nighters, it’s gonna be the death of you both. I’m starting to think you two might need separate rooms next time.”

Gideon joined in, smirking as he gave you both a knowing look. “You work well together. Almost too well, if we’re not careful. The sleepless nights aren’t exactly in the job description.”

Hotch glanced at you, a glimmer of humor in his eyes as he replied, “Guess we’ll just have to be careful not to wear each other out.”

Rossi walked by, overhearing just enough to join in on the banter. “You two keep up these all-nighters, and one of you is bound to keel over. I’m starting to think you two might need separate rooms next time, I don’t think the Bureau’s budget covers whatever happens if you both get too lost in academic theories.”

Gideon, passing by with a knowing grin, chimed in. “Or we’ll have to start charging for private architecture lectures. Next time, just tell us before you decide to pull an impromptu masterclass, you work well together. Almost too well, if we’re not careful. The sleepless nights aren’t exactly in the job description.”

You laughed, sharing a quick look with Hotch that spoke volumes about the night spent working side by side, both of you pushing the boundaries of professional detachment. “Yeah, I guess we need to make it a rule: no more overnight research sessions unless we’re getting hazard pay.”

Hotch shook his head, a soft laugh escaping as he tucked his hands into his pockets, the moment light but undeniably intimate. "I’m starting to think we’re a bad influence on each other.” You affirmed

Hotch’s smile widened, his eyes crinkling in that way that had become increasingly familiar. “Maybe. But we make a strong duo, and I wouldn’t change that.”

The words hung between you, and as the team dispersed, you and Hotch headed to a quiet room to finish filing the last reports. The precinct buzzed with the usual post-case atmosphere, but as you worked side by side, the world seemed a little quieter, the connection between you both impossible to ignore.

Meanwhile, back in the main room, Gideon leaned against the wall, his eyes fixed on you and Hotch through the glass. A faint smile crossed his lips as he watched the two of you working seamlessly together. “They remind me of us, don’t they?”

Rossi glanced up, following Gideon’s gaze, and let out a low chuckle. “Oh, absolutely. But let’s get one thing straight: I might love you, Jason, but I promise I’m never going to end up jumping your bones. That’s where the similarities end.”

Gideon rolled his eyes, unable to hold back his laughter. “Relax, Dave. I think we’re safe there.”

Rossi clapped him on the back, still grinning. “But hey, they’re young and still full of energy. Let’s hope their late nights together work out better than ours ever did.”

As you and Hotch finished up in the other room, you both instinctively glanced over your shoulders, catching the tail end of Rossi and Gideon’s playful banter. Almost at the same moment, you felt the warmth of Hotch’s chestnut eyes searching for yours, a silent connection sparking between you. Without saying a word, you both knew exactly how the next five minutes would unfold - the lingering of your inside joke used as a comfortable distraction to brush aside the undeniable chemistry that was quietly growing between you.

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch x reader #hotch #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds x reader

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kaisers-house-of-desires · 1 year

Note

Well okok- i was thinking, a fellow demon slayer (m!reader) being sent out on a supposedly harmless mission, but it turns out being way deeper and dangerous than anyone expected- he lacks the equipment needed.

he tries to find a safe place to hide but ends up running into Gyutarou. Gyutarou, seeing the man’s helpless state, is immediately set on completely breaking him down. can’t have him causing any trouble for the other demons, right?

idk what specific kinks other than overstimulation? but make with that what you will- feel free to add or remove anything! thank you!! :)

Ah, something like a little predator and prey style, yes~

Certainly! Please enjoy~

Title: Caught

Characters: Gyutarou x m!reader

Contains: dark themes(dub-con), overstimulation, oral/throat fucking, weapon use(Gyutarou's kama), mutliple orgasms

Fandom: Demon Slayer

Full request below the cut

All characters are 18+

MINORS, FEM ALIGNED, AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI

Reblogs > likes

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

You sword wasn't supposed to break, you weren't supposed to run, yet here you were, trapped by one of Gyutarou's kama to the tree you sought refuge by.

Having slumped to the ground while trying to get a moment's rest, his weapon had swung around, the blade pinning you to the tree. One wrong move, and your neck would be cut.

"Well well well...look at this...a slayer who can't even bring himself to fight in battle..." The demon's crackly voice rang strong in your ears as he stepped in front of you, his grotesque form towering over you. He had a sharp tooth, smug grin on his face from the sight of you, the way you trembled in front of him, the way fear clouded your face.

"B-Back up is coming! Y-You're in for a world of trouble when the others get here!" Despite your fear, you knew you had to maintain some sort of confidence, but it wasn't believeable.

"You sound so sure of yourself...heh. You really think that they'll get here soon enough. Your optimism is certainly something to behold..." Gyutarou kept his yellowed eyes on you, as if determining your fate right then and there. "I could kill you...But you look so...so helpless...I think I know of another way to get rid of you...to send a warning to the other slayers."

All the horrible possibilities ran through your mind. What would he do? Cut off your arm? Your leg or a foot? Just a hand?

Well...you certainly weren't expecting him to pull out his cock and present it before you.

His laugh was as crackly as his voice as he leaned over, resting his right arm against the tree as if fully entrapping you. "C'mon, human. Put it in your mouth like a good boy. I won't kill you if you do~"

The smell wasn't pleasing at all, but you had to admit, this was probably better than death.

"I-I do this...th-then you let me go?"

Gyutarou smiled wide, not responding.

You knew there was no guarantee of him keeping you alive, but you were desperate enough to try.

Hesitantly, you opened your mouth. Gyutarou pressed the tip inside and you sealed your lips around him, groaning from the salty taste. You couldn't exactly move, so it was up to Gyutarou. He gently rocked his hips, the tip and another inch slipping in and out of your mouth. The feeling to him was exciting, seeing you helpless as your mouth was taking in his cock. You couldn't move in any way lest your neck get sliced. You were a perfectly trapped human, and he relished it.

To test you further, Gyutarou forced more of his shaft into your mouth. You now were taking him halfway, gulping sounds audible every time he thrusted into your mouth. Tears slipped from your eyes as all you could do was look at that sickening grin on the demon's face.

Suddenly, he thrusted fully forward with a grunt, the tip of his cock down your throat and bulging your skin out to the blade of the weapon.

Your eyes went wide as you tried to scream, but his rapid and deep thrusting kept you silent. He grunted and groaned from the feeling of your mouth around his cock, sighing happily every time he pulled it all the way out only to slam it deep once again.

"Wh-Who knew a human's mouth could f-feel so good~?"

With the sounds of his moans, you knew Gyutarou was close, and you had no choice but to take his seed deep in your throat, your body spasming from lack of air.

When he pulled out, you coughed up his release, some of it dribbling down your chin mixed with saliva.

"Look at that face...~ Heh heh~ You look so nice, looking so defeated."

"I...I-I did what you wanted..." you wheezed. "N-Now...am I free?"

Gyutarou's grin told you otherwise.

---

Aside from the sounds of the crickets, the sounds of skin slapping and your moans filled the air. Your face was pressed into the ground with one of Gyutarou's hands, the other stroking your dick tortuously slow. Your ass sat in the air, the perfect height for him to rail into you at a quick rhythm. Your palms were on the ground, but you didn't have the strength or will to push yourself up.

"S-See?" Gyutarou huffed as he roughened up his thrusts. "I-It's just much easier taking it like a good human. A-And when you get back to your little base, y-you'll tell them all the things I did that will--ha~--k-keep you away from us~"

"P-Please..." you begged, "j-just hurry and cum already..."

Gyutarou scowled, making his next thrust deep, stopping and burying inside of you, causing you to shriek. "Don't you dare tell me what to do! You're in no position! Look at you! Taking a demon's dick like this!"

"S-Sorry!" you choked out. "I-I'm sorry!"

"Oh you're not sorry yet. I'll make you sorry..."

He resumed his movements with rough grunts, his thrusts deep and hard, and his strokes to your cock rapid. Your voice rang out, screaming into the air from the stimulation. You dug your hands into the dirt, gripping at the grass as your eyes rolled back into your head. Maybe if you came instead, he would stop.

Though despite the fact you shot ribbons into the ground, he never once ceased.

"W-Wait! I-I just came! Please!"

Gyutarou cackled into the air, finding your desperation amusing.

"Oh I'm not done with you! You'll cum as many times as I want! I'll make it so that even looking at your pathetic cock will make you whimper!"

You couldn't help the rocking of your hips as your pitched moans rang out into the air, but it seems like after sometime, Gyutarou was getting sick of it.

He wrapped the hand on your head around your neck instead, forcing you up against his chest before slamming his hand over your mouth.

"Just shut up already! You're too noisy!"

You grasped at his arm, whimpering into his hand as his actions below never stopped or slowed. You came again without warning, and the sight only egged Gyutarou on as your body began to quake against him.

"How many more times can you cum like this~? Let's find out~"

#kaisers house of desires #x reader #x male reader #x male y/n #x male smut #bottom male reader #male reader #demon slayer #gyutaro #gyutarou #demon slayer gyutaro #demon slayer gyutarou #gyutaro x reader #gyutarou x reader #gyutaro x y/n #gyutaro x you

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arminsumi · 1 year

Text

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ ATTA GIRL

MDNI

░ fem!reader

You weren't being loud enough for him 😔

⚠️Cws; SMUT 🥵

⚠️💦Smut cws; size kink, daddy kink, slight cervix penetration, light spanking, rough sex, dirty talk, 🐶 position

"C'mon, say it fuckin' louder for me." he grinned as he spoke dirtily in your ear.

He had you trapped under his big muscles, the heat and sweat rolling off his body onto yours, which looked so laughably tiny in comparison.

"Daddy." you whimpered quietly for him.

"Nuh-uh, louder. I want the neighbors to know whose cock is ruining you."

He had you pinned to the mattress with both hands, your torn off panties clutched in the one. The bedframe was making a prominent dent in the wall the more it banged into it; he always fucked you like he was purposefully trying to break the bed.

"Daddy!" you whimper loudly for him. He's only half-satisfied with that.

A sharp smack lands on your ass, stinging your skin. "Mmm, I think you can do better than that, don't you?" he teased, sinking his fat cock deeper inside you, making you squirm. Clenching around that cock was an incomparable experience.

"C'mon." he encouraged, hitting those deep, nearly animalistic strokes from the back. His tip damn near kissed your cervix, which he knew made you more verbal.

A dirty smile spread across his face as he fucked up your favorite spot.

"Daddy!" You nearly screamed, clawing at the pillows.

He looked at you with a naughty satisfaction, "Atta girl." he praised, giving your ass another stinging smack. "Shouldn't be keeping that pretty voice in. Let it all out."

His filthy cock kept pulsing and throbbing with each long stroke in your juicy pussy. He just admired the obscene sight of your hole clinging to him, refusing to let him go but at the same time barely accommodating his size.

�� 🍒 Arataki Itto, Toji, Gojo

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fool-who-dreams · 2 years

Text

shrink

summary:

Tony is tired of hearing her daughter talk about her crush, and Peter talk about his. So he sets them up for confrontation and decides to have a little fun with it...

you stepped inside the most spacious classroom of Midtown High, and the familiar scents of chemicals immediately invaded your smell. The chemistry class was soon filled with people taking their seats at their tables and putting on their candid white lab coats and protective goggles. Your usual desk mates were absent on that day due to the intensive sport training they were undergoing; soon they'd have a really important match and the school couldn't risk loosing (again), so they were excused from classes that day.

It was no big deal, but it was an absolute tragedy for you: who will you blather about your crush to? Who will listen as you make up romantic - most definitely unrealistic - scenarios, and encourage your imagination? How can you go a whole day without hearing their encouraging words on how you should just go up to Peter's desk and say-

"Hi, is this seat taken?" The familiar voice shakes you out of your thoughts. Your eyes widen as the sight of THE Peter Parker.

The boy wasn't popular in the slightest, but you had the chance to admire him in his natural habitat, the chemistry and maths classrooms, (or so you thought) and he was the smartest person in MILES. The rare few times you had the chance - or the excuse - to talk to him, he had been the most caring, generous and kindest person you ever had the chance to meet.

"Of course not." You smiled, making him smile, too. You blushed at the thought of always being the one to make him smile like that. Better yet, at the thought of him making you smile like an absolute fool everyday.

"y/n, right?" Peter asked while fixing his bag next to him and sitting down on the stool.

From there on the chitchat never ended. You both did stay silent: he was rather invested in the experiment, and you were rather invested in watching him focus. Chemistry came pretty naturally to you - just like every other scientifical and technology-related subject - which gave you more time to dream of the moment that had finally come.

You guys discovered that you had so much in common: interests, friendships, hobbies...heroes. You both loved Spiderman, for instance, and you both really looked up to Ironman and Captain America. You both liked Star Wars and Delmar's sandwiches, and you both knew MJ.

After class was over, the two of you agreed to sit next to each other the following time as well: your friends had been telling you to talk to him for ages, they won't mind at all if you actually did and stopped distracting him from their assignments in class. Even though, underneath, you knew they enjoyed it just as much as you did.

The weeks went by and you couldn't help but like him more and more, falling deeper and deeper for the boy. He seemed quite involved, too: every time your hands brushed against each other, or you made him laugh, or even just held eye contact for more than one second, it just made your heartbeat run a marathon. And that wasn't like you at all, but you weren't sure you liked it much. That little voice in your head just kept telling you that it might all just be your imagination going a bit too far; basically just gaslighting yourself.

Six months later you guys had become absolute best friends. You walked back home together after school, worked on projects, had your own inside jokes; you had even met his aunt May!

"Hey y/n?" Peter broke the silence while he was laying on a park bench, his curls on your laps.

"Yeah?"

"Do you- would you ever-" he started stuttering as he usually did when he was going to say something important for him. It always made you giggle, you found it cute.

"C'mon Pete, you can tell me anything, you know that."

"I know" he whispered before sitting back straight up. He took a deep breath before finally saying what he wanted to "Do you- like pillowcases?"

You looked at him, puzzled and surprised by the question. "Do I- like pillowcases?" You let out a laugh, trying to hide the disappointment in what you thought he'd have said. "I guess I do. Do you?"

"Yea. I do, I really do."

"That's- cool, I didn't know that about you" You chuckled, as he let out more of a nervous laugh. "I guess we should get going now". You smiled, gathering your things.

After Peter dropped you off where you "lived", you waited til he was out of sight before getting into the most famous building in the State: your actual home.

"I CANNOT BELIEVE HIM!" You shouted as you angrily climbed the stairs and walked into the kitchen, reaching straight for the fridge and opening it. "I seriously cannot believe that boy!"

"What did he do today sweetheart?" you father asked, not getting his eyes off of the newspaper he was reading.

"He almost asked me out!"

"And the problem with that is..."

"THAT HE ALMOST ASKED ME OUT!"

"Oh, obviously" He mocked you as he folded his newspaper. "Honey, have you ever thought of asking him out yourself?"

"Of course not. I mean, what if he says no?"

"You've never had this problem with any other boy before, and you're having this kind of doubts now that I actually like one of your picks?"

"Yes, because I also actually like this one!"

"Pepper, I don't need the blood test anymore, she's definitely a Stark!"

"I thought we had agreed on that when she fixed the- technology thing you couldn't deal with when she was 5." Your mother shouted from the other room.

"Okay, ouch." Tony replied.

"To be fair, you did deserve that." You chuckled. "Anyways, I'm starting to think it was just all in my head. Maybe that's just how he is with everyone, I'm nothing special. I guess I love for the both of us. I mean, how could I be enough for someone like him? He's the sweetest, kindest, most generous and caring person on this planet. And me? Well, I'm just really smart. And I'm amazing for everyone else, of course, but him? He deserves more than I'll ever be able to give." You concluded looking at the ground as you let your head fall into your arms. You were forced to raise your gaze when you heard a sudden loud noise. Something had fallen and broken, like a plate or a mug.

Looking up you saw the only thing you needed but last thing you wanted to see in that moment.

"You better clean that up kid. Oh and, y/n? Peter's here, by the way. Which is a really good thing because now you can both stop using me as your shrink and actually talk to each other." Tony looked at you with the most amused smirk as he was on his way to leave the room.

Your face had reached the cherry red color of the ceramic bowl that was scattered all around on the floor.

"Are you- did you actually mean all that?" An incredulously open-mouthed Peter asked.

"What are you even doing here?!" You inquired, confused and embarrassed.

"That's not important right now. Did you mean that?"

"Haven't I proven it to you?"

"I- I feel awful about making you doubt how much I love you." He said sincerely, while walking towards you.

"You- love me?"

"More than I thought I could." He leaned in slowly, following your every move until your lips fused into the most beautiful feeling you had ever felt. When the kiss was broken he held you in his arms for a few minutes, you both contemplating how the moment felt as magical as you had imagined it. Peter broke the silence with a sudden realization.

"Wait- you are PEPPER POTTS AND TONY STARK'S DAUGHTER?"

"Yeah..." You laughed nervously.

"Why have you never said anything?"

"I don't really go around advertising it. You know the bad guys and stuff can-" As you were explaining, you accidentally hurt a mug. Luckily, before it could touch the ground it was promptly saved: Peter was holding in his right hand the purple thing.

"you are SPIDERMAN?! MY BOYFRIEND IS SPIDERMAN?"

"Mh, boyfriend." He chuckled before hugging you again. "I like the sound of that."

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erosjournal · 28 days

Text

꣑ৎ ~ "guys... please... not in the engine room..." (valgrace drabble/shortfic)

~ synopsis: frank hears some... interesting sounds from leo and jason's work space in the engine room

~ tw: sexual themes, well, you'll just see. lgbtq :) . non canon ships. (sorry i didn't know if i should format my drabbles differently, but i sorta like this format.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"hey, frank, can you go get jason and leo? they're down in the engine room. i think they're doing some maintenance work?" percy asked, glancing over at the waves crashing onto the sides of the argos ll. frank nodded, and down the stairs, straight to leo's favorite place, the engine room.

as he approached the room, he noticed the door was closed. it was almost never closed. he decided to listen, to see if anything was wrong.

"ready jason?" leo muttered, obviously out of breath. frank widened his eyes, listening more intently. there was some muttering, but then he heard jason's deeper voice.

"y-yeah." he stuttered.

"you sure?"

"mhm. just hurry." he muttered wearily. oh gods. frank couldn't believe his ears. he didn't want to eavesdrop, but it was too late.

"ok. just take a deep breath." frank heard someone breathe deeply, and a thump.

"ow! leo!" he heard jason whimper. he heard leo hush him.

"jason, be quiet! what if someone hears! then they'll think somethings up!" he yelped. he heard more mutters, and backed up. oh gods, he couldn't listen to this personal conversation. but gods, did they have to do... well, in the engine room?

he stumbled, making a loud crashing sound.

"oh shoot. who's there?" he heard leo yell out. gods, frank just couldn't fathom that this was happening, on the ship, not even in their rooms. he felt his face flush, his ears redden. he turned and ran out of the room, running smack dab into percy.

"frank! where were you! i was looking everywhere! what took so long?" he said. he watched frank bit his lip, his face all red. "what happened?"

"i... i can't say!" he yelped, looking uneasily around him. percy frowned.

"you can tell me anything, man." he assured. frank shook his head.

"no! like.... it's not for me to say!" he muttered.

"what do you mean 'it's not for you to say'?" percy said, wiggling his eyebrows. "c'mon man, just tell me! it's not like you walked in on people doing anything weird, right?" he teased. he watched frank's face fluster, and felt himself blush a little.

"oh gods. who?!" he exclaimed. frank looked around sharply, and shoved a finger over his mouth.

"be quiet, jackson! what it someone hears?" he hissed. he pulled percy back onto the deck, breathing heavily.

"gods, i went to the engine room like you asked." he said. percy looked at him, confused, then he understood.

"oh. OH." he smirked. "gods, in the engine room? they are crazy." he laughed. frank kept blushing, still so uncomfortable.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

that had happened right after lunch. by dinnertime, the news had spread to annabeth and hazel. the only people not knowing were coach hedge (who would kill them) and piper (who might also kill them).

"hey, pipes..." annabeth and hazel walked into her room. she was reading a book, and glanced up.

"oh, hey yall. what's up?" she said, sitting up and closing her book. annabeth had an unreadable expression on, while hazel looked flustered and nervous.

"well, we wanted to talk to you about something, something we think you should know about." annabeth spoke up. hazel nodded. piper didn't like the way this was going, but nodded as well, listening along.

"well...?"

"we think that, um, jason and leo were, um..." annabeth flushed a bit, looking away from pipers gaze. "doing.... things that happen in a deep romantic relationship." she said finally. piper felt her eye twitch. gods, those two get together and after only two weeks decide to get it on?

"WHAT!?" she yelped, throwing her book across the room. the other girls flinched. "ok that's it. move aside, i'm going to talk to them." she muttered angrily, getting up. of course, she wasn't upset about them two being in a relationship. she just wanted to chew them out since 1. leo was like her brother and 2. jason was her best friend. also, she couldn't trust them to be safe all the time.

both annabeth and hazel glanced at each other.

"maybe that isn't such a good idea..." hazel muttered, watching piper push through them. she was already on her way down the hall, knocking harshly on leo's door.

"open up!' she exclaimed. as it was opened, she was met with leo, who was wearing jason's old camp jupiter shirt, and jason was wearing a camp half-blood shirt, sitting on his bed. oh gods.

"what's wrong pipes?" he asked, nervously.

"what's wrong!?" she replied. she entered the room, closing the door behind her. "you two got it on today! did you two even use protection?" she asked. they looked at her surprised, then at each other, then back at her. they were blushing, but had confused looks on.

"piper, what in the hades do you mean?" jason asked, adjusting his gold glasses. piper sighed.

"it's all over the boat! you two were doing it in the engine room!" she said. "gods, you two are only 16. i can't be an aunt at 16!" she cried. they both looked at each other again. then leo burst out laughing, jason frowning.

"oh pipes! me and jason were working on mechanics! i swear! someone probably heard the sounds of me hitting jason's finger with the hammer, and thought we were getting it on. oh gods, that's funny!" he cried, tears springing from laughter. piper relaxed, confused.

"seriously?"

"yeah, leo hit my fingers with a hammer," he glared pointedly at leo, "and it was deferentially something painful."

"oh." piper blushed, not from the thought but from the embarrassment of being wrong. "well, uh, you guys should probably tell the others. they, um, still think somethings up." she muttered.

jason flustered while leo kept laughing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~ an:

lmao i had this idea for a bit, and rlly wanted to write it. i apologize for traumatizing frank, and for it being sorta random and messy. i hope yall liked it, it was so random. and i barely edited it, but i loved writing it. but coming up with excuses for everything was hard, but eh. love yall :33

#valgrace #valgrace fanfic #hoo fanfic #leo x jason #leo valdez x jason grace #piper mclean #leo valdez #jason grace #frank gets traumatized #fanfic

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wytchsbrew · 1 year

Text

"There we go, yeah, Vash, you're doing such a good job."

Wolfwood's calm, whispering voice put Vash's terrified, pounding heart at ease by the smallest of fractions, and while Wolfwood had been giving him perfect, exact instructions this entire time, he still felt overwhelmed with choking anxiety.

Because this was his first time...

This was his first time...

Vash glanced down at his best friend, his partner, beneath him. Wolfwood's large, muscular body lay spread out on the bed, naked, exposing every single bit of beautiful, dark skin to Vash's absolutely starving eyes. He had one strong hand clutching around his own erection, lazily stroking it while his dark eyes watched Vash like he was the most delicious item on tonight's menu.

His hair lay messy and mussed, pulled this way and that by Vash as they'd made out for literally an hour before reaching this point. The point Vash had been terrified of from the get go of their relationship.

Vash felt scared to fuck Wolfwood.

Several times, while their hands wandered and their lips found each other, Wolfwood had mentioned how much he wanted that particular thing - for Vash to top him, take him, ravish him, and each time, Vash pulled away out of absolute fear.

Why?

Well, Vash had never had sex with anyone, let alone a man with obvious experience, who looked sexy enough to make Vash drool at the drop of a hat, and he knew he simply did not have the skill to make sex worth while for someone like Wolfwood.

Slowly, Vash's gaze slipped down his lover's perfect body, until he saw the point where their bodies met. His own thick, girthy cock, alight with blue Plant Striations, only had the crown slipped inside Wolfwood's tight entrance.

He felt... amazing, perfect, clenching around him. Tighter than he expected. Hot, velvety, wet and pliant from the very detailed instructions Wolfwood had given him to finger and scissor and stretch him enough to take his thickness.

"You like what you see, handsome?"

Wolfwood's voice brought his attention back up to him, and when their gazes met, it felt like two flames colliding between them, swirling to create a vortex.

If Wolfwood kept looking at him like that, he'd cum in no time.

"C'mon, sink in with your hips now. Give me everything you got."

With his hands pressing bruises into Wolfwood's sturdy hips, he began moving his hips forward like Wolfwood instructed. Slowly, slowly sinking his big cock into Wolfwood's awaiting body.

"Oh, yeah, you're so big."

Wolfwood gasped below him, the hand on his own cock moving faster as he fisted hard around his crown.

"You're doing so good," he whispered, continuing that even, deep, gruff sound of his voice that struck through Vash like lightning. "Deeper. Give it all to me."

Vash obeyed, pressing and pressing, listening to the sound of himself moaning loud in the quiet of their motel room. The tightness ached through him like a vibrant light, and he suddenly had no idea why he'd been scared about this in the first place.

They should've been doing this the entire time!

His hips hit the rounded crux of Wolfwood's firm ass, and his arms shook desperately, barely able to hold him steady. Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck.

He was inside Wolfwood.

Fully, deeply, inside Wolfwood!!!!

HOLY SHIT!!!

"Perfect," Wolfwood mewled, and Vash caught sight of his free hand clutching into the sheets beside him. "So good, you did so good-" His breath hitched, as Vash gave a little experimental roll of his hips forward, and the slick slide had them both tossing their heads back in twin flame groans.

He'd never known sex could feel this... this...

"Good," Wolfwood moaned, as if reading his mind. "Start moving. Now."

There was no way in Hell Vash could say no to that, so he did. He pulled out, all the way to the crown, and fucked forward again into Wolfwood. It wasn't fast, because some part of the lingering anxiety of it all feared hurting him, but it felt like the best experience of his entire life.

He thrust in again, and whined.

He wondered if Wolfwood would let him fuck him again later tonight. Perhaps tomorrow, too?

"Faster, harder!" Wolfwood instructed. "I can take it, you know I can take it-"

Faster, faster, Vash started up an insane rhythm immediately upon being told. The bed frame slapped against the neighboring wall, the mattress screeching against the sheer strength of his thrusts, and Wolfwood moved his hips down in time to take him even further with every single movement.

He took him so well. Despite his Plant cock being larger, strangely shaped, different than that of a human's, Wolfwood took every single inch of him and was apparently enjoying it, calling out Vash's name under his breath like a small, private prayer.

Of course, he knew Wolfwood could take it. Wolfwood existed as the single strongest person he knew besides himself, sturdy and seemingly immortal. He knew he wouldn't break beneath his hands, something that put his mind at ease.

He'd always been afraid of that. Of being intimate with someone, and hurting them, not understanding his own strength.

But, not with Wolfwood.

Wolfwood easily handled him. He always had.

Vash smiled, and fell forward, leaning his hands on either side of Wolfwood's head, and he pulled back, almost to the tip, and slammed back into him with a brutal sort of strength and speed. And he didn't let up for a single second, surprised as his own prowess in the face of undeniable lust.

Every nerve ending in his body lit aflame, and he watched Wolfwood's back arch against the mattress, and he was crying out, high pitched.

"Yes, yes, just like that!" Wolfwood cried. "God, fuck, Vash! I love you!"

His body stalled, his cock burying deep inside Wolfwood, and stared downward at the beautiful, open mouthed, wet lipped, low lidded bedroom eyed face of his lover.

"What did you just say to me?"

Wolfwood blinked, once, twice, then horror struck across his expression.

"Nothing," he whispered. "I said... nothing."

"No, no, you said something!" Vash felt panic piling up in the back of his throat. No way. No way, Wolfwood had just uttered those words that Vash had been keeping locked away secretly in the vault of his heart and soul.

"Fuck you, I didn't say shit," Wolfwood muttered, and glanced sideways, away from Vash's face -

And Vash saw the blush along the tips of his ears.

Oh, hoooo!

"You said you love me!" Vash laughed, nearly hysterical. "Nicholas, you - do you love me?"

There was a moment where nothing happened. He could only hear his own harsh breathing in the roaring silent cadence of the room, and he thought maybe he'd gone too far, and should have just kept his mouth shut instead.

He'd just been too overwhelmed by the sound of that voice saying those words he'd dreamed of.

Suddenly, though, so suddenly, Wolfwood turned his head, met his gaze head on. There was affection in his eyes, and the sheer look of it laid Vash bare. Made him more naked than being buried deep inside his partner in a dingy motel room, because, for lack of a better explanation, Nicholas D. Wolfwood looked at him like he'd found the missing pieces of the universe.

Affection poured from him in waves, covering Vash like a warm blanket, hazing everything else in sight.

"Yes, Vash," Wolfwood whispered, his voice trembling. "I'm in love with you, you giant, infuriating dumbass."

Just like that.

Just like a strike of lightning.

Vash came, cock twitching, hands vibrating against the bed, and he heard himself crying out, "I love you, too!"

The feeling of the orgasm deep within his core must've been too much as well, because the next second, Wolfwood's spend splashed across his chest messily and his mouth opened on a silent scream, eyes squeezed shut tightly.

And Vash watched the entire thing in absolute awe. The most beautiful sight he'd ever laid eyes on, and would ever lay eyes on for the rest of his existence. Nothing possibly compared to the sight of Wolfwood losing himself in the throes of a fast, passionate orgasm.

Though the sex had only lasted a couple moments, Vash couldn't help but think of this as the best thing to ever happen to him.

Or, perhaps, that was Wolfwood himself.

After a long while of Vash staring down at him, Wolfwood slowly opened his eyes again, and smiled, lazily, sated.

"Well, aren't you a fast learner."

#vashwood #woodvash #wv #vw #lajdsfklajsdfkljal #affirmations #i'm screaming okay #time for my daily newspaper

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fandomwe1rd0 · 5 months

Text

Rick and Morty angst of Morty's trauma with Rick Prime!

Rick and Evil Morty were on the floor, unmoving. Morty was shaking Rick's arm "R-R-Rick...Rick c-c-c'mon! You haven't beaten Prime yet!" Prime laughed as he walked up to Morty and pointed a gun at Rick. Morty shielded Rick. "N-No!"

Prime laughed as he used his gun to move a lock of hair from Morty's forehead. He mocked "Awww, look at you, original grandson!" He giggled as he used his gun to move Morty's chin up so they're looking eye to eye as he grinned from ear to ear "You've grown so virtuous, Grandpa is so proud." He laughed in a mock parental tone. Morty took an audible gulp, and he was shaking, trying not to hyperventilate. he hated when Prime called him that. Prime doesn't know him. Prime wasn't the one who he's been going on adventures with. "Don't. You're not my grandpa." Prime laughed "Then who is?" Morty grabbed a gun from Rick's lab coat. "You're not my grandpa. Because my grandpa is lying on the floor!"

Prime laughed as he shot the gun out of Morty's hand and towered over him "Look at you, trying to play hero. Cute." Then Prime gets down to Morty's eye level, puts his gun to the back of Morty's head, and pulls him closer "Too bad I have to kill you though, such a waste. You have so much potential. You sure you don't wanna team up? I usually don't do sidekicks, but I can make an exception. We could be like Batman and Robin!" Morty shook his head, as he took another gulp, trying to hide the fact that he was shaking, which led to Prime pulling him closer by his shirt, still holding his gun to the back of his head "It's cute how you try to pretend to be brave. You sure you don't wanna team up? You probably would want to please the guy who has a gun pointed at your head." Prime laughed as he dug the gun deeper into the back of Morty's head and used his other hand to dig his fingernails into Morty's shoulder. Morty grabbed onto Prime's gun, tore it out of his hand, and kicked him off, pointing the gun at him "I will never listen to you." Prime laughed "You really do take after your ol' grandpa, don't you?" as he put his hand on the top of the gun and pointed it to his chest. Morty shook his head "I'm NOTHING like you!" Prime laughed, praticly begging Morty to shoot him, Morty looked down at the gun, it had different settings, since Prime was able to regen, he switched the setting to paraylze. Then he shot Prime, Evil

Morty got up and used his finger guns to shoot Prime straight in the forehead. Then Prime fell down, passed out. Morty blinked "I...but...how!?" Evil Morty said "I decided to play dead. Needed to wait until he stayed still." He then dragged him into another room. Morty shook Rick arm "Rick! We did it! Evil Morty got him!" Rick still didn't move, Morty continued shaking Rick's arm "Rick...Rick!?"

Morty kept shaking Rick's arm, then a little later Evil Morty dragged Rick into to the other room. Morty heard muffled voices and Evil Morty seemed to take Prime's power source, resualting in a cool visual "Pretty cool visual...you're missing it." Evil Morty glared at him "We don't have to talk. This didn't make us friends." Morty gulped and rubbed his arm as they stood in slience, eventually Rick walked out with his fists clenched and Evil Morty smiled "There's our guy." Morty ran over to him, with his arms outstreched, "Rick!" He then recolied when he saw that Rick was covered in blood "Is it over...is he...?" Evil Morty said "Not exactly an alive amount of blood. Feel better? No. Exactly the same? Yeah. It always does." Then Rick said "Fuck off." then Evil Morty said "I'm gonna, just don't force me to improve on the design, I can end the Rick experiment anytime I want." Then Morty said "Why threaten? Why not just do it?" then Evil Morty said "Because using a weapon like this doesn't get you left alone, Morty. You think I want a bunch of vengeful Summers after me? You are a little different though Rick, maybe I can use that someday." Then he opened a portal "Seriously though fuck off. Don't come look for me. It won't go well." Then he walked through the portal leaving Morty and Rick alone. Morty said "Are...are you ok?" Morty's lips quivred and Rick said "Yeah." Then Morty smiled and hugged Rick, while Rick's body tensed up

#rick sanchez #morty smith #rick and morty #rick c137 #rick #and #morty

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theweirdestroller · 1 year

Text

Selfish Shellfish

Hunting in the reef was just fine and dandy with Killer. He had no issues with it. But hunting alone? That's where the issue lies. He was all on his lonesome, the rest of the shiver doing who-knows-what without him. And no, he wasn't upset or jealous just... really... lonely? Killer growled as he snapped at another fish, ending its life swiftly. This was stupid. Cross was free today, he could have joined him. Killer flicked his tail sharply, scaring away any prey that might have strayed close enough to be an easy kill. He was also grumbling loud enough to garner the attention of anything that might want to make a snack out of a lone bull shark mer. Not that anything would, lest it evoke the wrath of two leviathans. So Killer kept swimming, upset that he was alone on hunting duty, envious of his mates who were probably all curled up without him. No- He should probably stop that thought. They were all busy, sans Cross, but he still couldn't help but feel hurt. And Cross was down for the count because he was being forced to recover by Dream. It was unfair to act like he had been abandoned here.

Killer sighed and gathered his catch. Probably best to bring this all back to se could reunite with- Something shiny caught his eye. The mer took a sudden turn and dived to the soft sand of the reef. There was sitting a comically large pearl, like the ones he had seen in the artwork of mermaids Kelp had shown the shiver. It was a soft pink and had a light cream star-shaped marking on it. It was beautiful. Killer instantly had two thoughts. The first, try to woo his mates with the lovely treasure. Give it to them as an act of affection. Or... Keep it for himself and show off the remarkable thing he found at every opportunity. Both were fair and reasonable choices-

"Killer! Killer! C'mon! Where are you," The familiar voice of Dust rang through the reef as more fish fled away. A few pilot fish darted around, also searching for the mer. One approached the bull shark who had his hands cupped around the pearl. He growled at it and got a face full of bubbles for his trouble. Killer growled and went out to meet Dust. "Killz, thank goodness. I was worried you got lost for a second," Dust said in mocking relief. Killer only glared. "Whatcha got there?"

"None of your business," Ah, sounded like Killer was going for the 'keep it and gloat' route with the pearl.

"C'mon, show me," Dust pushed, swimming around his partner as they started off towards the Depths. Killer sighed and slowly revealed the glistening pearl safely nestled in his hands. "Woah..."

"I know, right? It's my little reward for having to go out there all on my lonesome," Killer replied, a smug grin on his face. Dust only gave a laugh before darting deeper, Killer following soon after. The two were back to their normal flirtatious ways, the faux animosity between them forgotten. Killer had been showing off the pearl to Cross when Dream gasped.

"Nighty!" He cried out. "It's- Oh it's really it!" The goldfish swam over to Killer and yoinked the pearl right from his hands. Killer made a noise of protest but was ignored. Dream was already making his way to Nightmare. "My pearl!" The joy in his voice so evident that Killer's imaginary complaints died in his throat.

"I can see that." Nightmare's ecstatic tone giving away his emotions. "Where ever did you find this Killer? We lost this centuries ago," A slightly guilty look crossed Dream's face and was swiftly ignored.

"J-just in the reef," Killer's face had taken on a more red hue as Dream swam back to him.

"Well thank you so much for returning it," Dream pressed a passionate kiss to Killer's teeth leaving the bull shark out of breath and working his gills overtime.

#mermay 2023 #mermay #leviathantale #dream #nightmare #killer #dust #drabble

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peaceloveandstarrs · 1 year

Note

About the Send me a Ship and a Number... What about you and Dhani with number 27?

ANON omg who are you lol... all of my besties told me they didn't send this in... it has to be someone who knows about my thing for him LOL... I'm super curious!!!

as a suggestion

I sighed and stared out the window. Snow was steadily falling, to the point where it was covering the driveway and the road. I felt bad. I mean, I was the one that had suggested to Dhani that we come visit my dad. So technically, it was my fault that we were snowed in. Okay, so it wasn't really my fault; I didn't control the weather. But still, if I hadn't suggested it... I shook my head and anxiously played with my hair, twirling the ends around my fingers. I needed to do something. But what?

I glanced over at my husband. Dhani was lucky. He didn't usually have this sense of anxiety when it came to being stuck inside. He was happy this way, much like his dad. He was quietly reading by the fireplace, curled up on the sofa. I was glad my dad had kept my grandparents' house; he allowed us to use it when we came and visited. And that fireplace was definitely coming in handy.

But that wasn't on my mind right now. I got up and wandered around. I went to the kitchen. I wasn't hungry, nor did comfort eating appeal. I had my phone, but that didn't appeal either. My artwork was in the den, just off the living room. I could do that, maybe. Or my book. I looked at the road, and my mind began to spiral again. No. I wasn't going to do this. If there was one thing therapy taught me, it was that worrying wasn't going to change anything. Worrying wasn't going to stop the snow. Worrying wasn't going to magically thaw the driveway and the roads leading into town. Dhani and I were snowed in, and there wasn't much we could do about it. I mean, we could call my dad since he had a truck, but that would be sort of awkward.

So we were stuck. I sat at the opposite end of the couch just as Dhani closed his book. I could see that he was getting a bit restless too. He looked around, and I could tell that his mind was working, the proverbial wheels turning. I'd seen that look a lot over our time together. He ran a hand through his hair, tossing the longer end away from his eyes.

“Whatcha thinking?” I asked.

“Trying to find something to do,” Dhani answered absently.

“Tell me about it. God. I hope this isn't like the last time it snowed here, remember that?”

Dhani nodded. “We were snowed in for what, four days? Till your dad came and rescued us.”

I laughed. “Maybe we should stop coming here during winter.”

“Now you know your dad wouldn't like it if we didn't visit at Christmas. He's adamant that we take home some of that breakfast casserole thing he makes.”

“I know, I know. I was making a joke. But seriously, there's gotta be something we can do. D'you think we could...” I glanced out towards the garage.

“Darling, c'mon. You know we can't, the car doesn't handle snow very well.”

I sighed. “Wishful thinking.”

I slid over towards Dhani and nestled against his side. He put his arm around my shoulders, and I curled. I instantly felt safe. Dhani's hold had always done that, even in the early days of our relationship. And it had only grown over time. I wrapped my arms around him and rested my head on his shoulder. I mean, it wouldn't be too bad, right? Maybe the snow wouldn't last long. It was supposed to be warmer in a few days, after all. Above freezing. I placed a soft kiss on Dhani's neck and felt him shiver involuntarily as his hand slid slowly up and down my shoulder. I pressed myself closer, nuzzling the warm skin. His scruffy facial hair provided a delightful contrast as I kissed his jaw a few times.

“You know...” Dhani said with a teasing, lilting tone. “We're completely alone out here. Almost middle of nowhere.”

“Mhm,” I agreed.

“And this place has how many bedrooms?”

I counted silently. “Three.”

“There's something we could do,” he said. His voice was deeper; I knew exactly what he was playing at. But I played innocent. “One room each day.”

“Huh. Wish I knew what you were talking about...” I teased. “I mean, whatever are you suggesting we do about it?”

Dhani pulled me onto his lap and kissed me tenderly. I melted against him and kissed him back, softly at first. As the kiss deepened, I opened my mouth to let his tongue in, softly humming as he slid one hand into my hair and mine slid under his shirt, one pressing against his back while the other went into his hair. Eventually, his other hand came around to my chest and softly squeezed one of my breasts over my shirt. The kiss continued in growing passion for a few moments until I pulled back to catch my breath. I knew good and well what he meant... but why not get a little more fun out of it before the main event?

“How's that for a suggestion, hmm?” Dhani teased.

I kissed him one last time, teasingly pressing against him as I slid off his lap and stood. “Can't think of anything I'd rather do...”

With that last remark, I turned and head towards the first bedroom, smirking as I heard Dhani's footsteps close behind. Oh, yes. This was going to be fun.

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orchards-nsfw · 2 years

Text

Starting stream...

Grafaiteck was running a 'special stream' on his 'secondary account', the audience participation should be great.

When the stream loaded, an almost fully naked Grafaiteck was sitting on screen, smiling impishly in front of a wide row of sex toys of all different shapes, sizes, and purposes. There was an option to donate on the stream, and upon doing so it allows you to change one factor about the toys. Whether one was being used, the intensity, where it was being used, all at the audiences fingertips.

Grafaiteck took off their boxers slowly and carefully, giving the camera a full show of it's ass and hardened cock. They were about 8-9 inches long with a fairly plump and bouncy ass, not big enough to make shopping for pants harder but still noticeable. Almost instantly upon sitting back down, a notification pinged for a donation.

'Put small pink vibrator in ass fully'

"No time at all, chat... You're all so excited to see me, huh~?"

They moved one of the smaller vibrators, about 5 inches, below them and slowly sat down on it, making cute little whimpering noises when they reached the end and dropped their ass fully onto the floor, enveloping the vibrator completely in their ass save for a wide-ish pink base no longer visible to the audience.

"Is that all you got~..?"

As if being answered, another text to speech donation played, this one larger than the last.

'Set vibrator to max speed'

One fun addition Grafaiteck had put on the stream was the ability to directly control anything remote, instead of them having control of it and doing everything manually. They had no power to stop any of the toys from doing anything once chat made them do it.

Grafaiteck instantly yelped in shock from the sudden intensity, their cock sticking upright and twitching as their eyes fluttered shut. They bit down on their lip to avoid letting out any moans, further teasing the audience despite the strength of the vibrator. Thankfully the pink vibrator being smaller also meant it was less powerful, so this was only half of what a normal one would do. Yet another ping sounded, the text-to-speech voice playing over the quiet buzzing inside their ass.

'Put taped vibrator on dick tip'

"Fuck, chat, you're really hungry for me today aren't you~? Whatever you say~..."

They taped the small bean shaped vibrator, connected to a vibrating pad by a wire in order to vibrate the bean on things like nipples, dicks, or different parts in the ass.

'Set taped vibrator to low speed'

"Mmn~... C'mon chat, I can take more than this, don't tease me~!"

'Put Bad Dragonite dildo in ass fully'

They looked over to the far right of their line of toys, a giant imposing dildo being next on the list. It was roughly 20 inches tall and 7 inches wide, fully prepared to stretch them out. They gulped nervously, lubing up the dildo with a bottle nearby and completely covering it, jerking off the dildo at that point to fully coat it and still keeping the bold teasing persona.

"That's all you g-got chat? I can take more than that!"

Their voice wavered as they positioned themself over the dildo, using their hands to stretch out their ass a bit as they slowly sat down on the dildo, going down one inch at a time. Due to the size, they were unable to push the vibrator already inside them to the side, pushing that one deeper in as the dildo got further in them. Cute and light moans were let out, the first ten inches of the dildo having gone inside them. They kept going down, the moans getting progressively louder and quicker as most of the dildo went inside their ass. Before they could reach the base, they lost their balance, falling from their crouching position into sitting on the dildo entirely and taking in the last 6 inches instantly, a loud and shaky moan escaping their lips as their mouth started to water. A bulge was showing above their dick, marking where the dildo reached in his ass. The bulge was fairly large, prominent and vibrating with the smaller vibrator still on top.

'Bounce'

The one word command, although simple, was powerful and intimidating. Grafaiteck's legs were already trembling from the vibrator now 25 inches inside of them, but they did what the could and crouched down again, starting to bounce on the dildo. They let out louder and rapid moans with each bounce, drool dripping from their mouth onto their twitching cock. Their mouth was agape, whimpering moans and barely recognizable words coming out one after another.

"A-ahnn~! F-fuck, ch-cha-aahn~..! Ch-chat~ i-it's mmph~ so m-much~! S-so c-close nngh~!"

'Set taped vibrator to max speed'

The new donation, unheard over Grafaiteck's overwhelmingly erotic pleas and moans, immediately ramped up the speed of the vibrator strapped to their dick to full, making them instantly shoot hot ropes of cum at the camera. Despite panting and having already cum, Grafaiteck kept bouncing, not yet being instructed to stop by the chat donations. The vibrators kept buzzing, and Grafaiteck's moans grew more desperate and unintelligible.

"A-ahh~! S-shit~! Huff P-please~! Nghh~! Mmph~! Ahhnn~! Ugh~! F-fuck~!"

They couldn't stop moaning and whimpering, barely any room to beg for mercy from the chat. Their cock was still twitching from the vibrations and just having cum, bouncing up and down as they took on the full length of the dildo over and over and over again. They sped up the bouncing, despite not having been requested by chat, showing their desperation to cum again.

'Use fleshlight'

Grafaiteck stopped attempting to respond, their wireless headphones telling them what to do. They obeyed as quick as they could, reaching out and shakily grasping the fleshlight. You could see from their tight grip that they were in immense pleasure, placing the fleshlight on their dick and furiously thrusting it to the base of their cock. They jerked off with the fleshlight, rapidly slamming it on their cock with both hands and still bouncing on the dildo. Their whimpering and begging was a jumbled mess of moans and noises, each one louder and more erotic than the next. Their was no rythym to the thrusts or the bouncing, just pure sexual frustration fueling it at quick paces.

'Use Bad Dragonite dildo's fake cum'

The automated dildo immediately started pumping Grafaiteck full of cum with no warning other than the text-to-speech voice, causing them to cum again, a stream of white spattering on their chest and in their mouth. As it turns out, the volume of the giant dildo was also a container that held an entire gallon of artificial cum, shooting constantly into Grafaiteck and forming a large bulge in their stomach. Due to the tightness of their ass stretched around the dildo, there was no room for the cum to leak out, the bulge continuing to increase in size seemingly endlessly. Their moans were now a slur of curse words and noises that would make anyone cum just from hearing them.

They came a third time from the constant pumping of artificial cum in their ass, still bouncing on the dildo and fucking the fleshlight without thought. They were very clearly overstimulated, a dry orgasm coming through. This went on until the dildo was emptied entirely into Grafaiteck's ass, taking about a full minute despite the somewhat high pressure it shot into them.

'Stop'

Upon hearing the command, Grafaiteck immediately sat down and dropped everything, panting heavily as all of the buzzing stopped. They were filled to the brim, the dildo's base getting sucked into their ass with a satisfying 'pop'. Their asshole tightened at the feeling of the dildo going deeper, causing another wave of pleasure and another dry orgasm to hit Grafaiteck. Their ass, despite being fairly stretched out, was smaller that the giant dildo in circumference, meaning they wouldn't be able to push the dildo out. Artificial cum leaked out of their asshole steadily, forming a small puddle on the floor in front of them.

"I-i... Huff... S-shit.... Huff... I-it's st-stuck..."

The chat, through donations, was allowed to send personalized messages, similar to how the commands had worked.

'Keep that in there for me, okay?'

Grafaiteck nodded weakly, their mind a scrambled mess and barely processing the words said by the robotic voice, too weak to muster up a bratty response.

"Y-yes sir..."

Thousands of chat messages poured in, praising them and calling them a good boy. He whimpered back a response, trembling from what had happened. There was cum all over Grafaiteck's body, his legs, and all in his mouth and on his face.

"I-I did g-good..?"

#long post #wall of text #goddamn #got bored from lack of interaction and wrote this #didn't realize it would be this long #hah long #anyways that's Grafaiteck's onlyfans #drabble

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