#i want to stick my face in his upper stomach is that too much to ask for

[scrawnytreedemon]

Some Bods™ cooked up for this fine occasion. This guy is sized AF and i phuckign love that for him.

[deqdwinter]

#VENOM!

pairing: dick grayson x chubby afab!reader

word count: 800+

summary: dick comes home from a very long night, after encountering poison ivy, he can’t seem to think straight when all he can smell is you…

warnings: HEAVY SMUT!! sex pollen, dick has a big.. erm well.. dick, BREEDINGGGG, slight degradation, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby, etc.), dom!dick, sub!reader, dick calls reader a fleshlight (lovingly ;p), dick's lwk a lil' mean in this but it's ok he loves you ;3

authors note: lawddd hold me back this man is bouta make me combust like all over his face SOMEONE HELP ME

“Fuckin’ hell-” Dick groaned lowly as he gripped your hips tighter, pulling your plush body back into his harsh thrusts. 

Nights like this would normally have this outcome. Dick would come home, late at night after a patrol, looking and being frustrated as anyone would be, leaving you to be his relief.

But tonight.. Wasn’t one of those nights. This wasn’t calm, or half assed thrusts into your sopping cunt as you both lay half awake in bed, no. Dick wasn’t frustrated.. He was hungry.

“Dee! S-slow down baby-!” you squealed as your manicured hand reached back, your nails lightly brushing over his toned abdomen. 

He’d been so overcome with lust that he hadn’t even fully discarded his suit, only zipping it down the middle and off his shoulders to leave it pooling at his waist, with his mask still tied around his eyes. The white, chalky glow around his eyes hiding his irises from your view. 

He roughly grabbed your hand into his and intertwined them, a sweet gesture compared to his brutal pace he was keeping up with at the moment. 

“Mine, mine, mine..” you heard him mumble as he leaned down, cooing into your ear as he pounded you from behind, the smacking of your ass against his upper thighs echoing throughout the room. 

He moaned softly at the squelch of your cunt swallowing him, a creamy white ring surrounding the base of his cock every moment he pulled out.

“D-Dick, p-please baby-”

“Gotta breed you baby.. Show all these fuckers that you’re mine and get you pregnant. You’d like that huh? All full with my baby, my cum deep inside this needy lil’ pussy, hm? You want that princess?” You felt him smirk against your skin as he never faltered, his cock reaching so deep inside you–fuck this man would be the end of you.

He may have seemed like a sweet guy, and he definitely was.. Him in bed on the other hand, he was dirty, disgusting, nasty with the way he talked. 

“You’re my lil’ fleshlight aren’t you? Just a wet little hole to stick my dick into, huh? S’all you’re good for?” 

Tears pooled at the bottom of your eyes, your pussy throbbed at his words, no matter how offended you really were from them. 

“S-S’mean Dee..” you cooed before he lifted you up to rest your back on his chest, groping your tits in one hand as the other trailed down your plump stomach and towards your pussy. 

“Mean? I would never, baby. How could you accuse me of such a thing? All I do is treat you so fuckin’ well, don’t I?” Dick mumbled as his fingers started to toy with your clit, his middle finger rubbing the sensitive nub in circles as he continued his brutal pace on your weeping cunt. “F-fuck..” he whined as he pulled away for a moment to look down at where the two of you were connected, his cum from earlier rounds already starting to pool onto the bedsheets and trailing down your thighs. “S’good to me, ya know that? Such a good girl..” Fuck it was starting to become too much for him, but it felt so fucking good..

“G-Gonna come, Dee–fuck!” you whimpered as you fell back into the sheets with your face squished against the pillows, gripping the blanket into your hands tightly. 

“F-fuckin’ come baby, come all over this cock..” He coos through clenched teeth, his nails lightly digging into your plush skin as his thrusts sped up. 

Whiney breaths leave your throat as your climax starts building, before the coil in your tummy finally snaps, your juices gushing around him as he let out a whine and threw his head back. 

“C-Come inside me, Dick–please!” you squeal with your face squished into the pillow to muffle your needy whines as his cock twitched inside you. 

“I know baby, I know–fuckk!” he groaned as you felt him release inside you, thick ropes of his cum painting your walls a creamy white, giving a few shallow thrusts before stilling inside you, pants and heavy breathing leaving both of your lips as you sat in silence. 

Despite your best efforts and hours of him being inside you, he was still.. Unnecessarily hard..

You whine as you try to crawl away from his needy hands before he grabs you by the waist and pulls you back to flip you onto your back, a few pieces of his hair stuck to his forehead as he looks down at you with a grin painting his plush lips. Gosh it’s like he was trying to kill you.

“P-please my love, let’s rest.. M’sensitive..” you whimpered as he chuckled lightly before grabbing the back of your thighs and pushing your legs towards your chest.

“Said ya’ wanted to help me..” he cooed as he leant down with his lips ghosting over yours. 

“So, help me..”

[nylibrty]

— (you make me wanna) slip off a new dress

OR.  when  stewie  sees  you  after  her  gold  medal  win,  and  she  just  has  to  have  you.

msg  from  sen  :  my  first  fic  back!!!!!  so  sorry  if  this  is  a  lil  rusty  </3

also…  for  the  sake  of  this  fic,  js  pretend  like  they  aren't  playing  in  lilles  (i  didnt  want  to  write  in  a  2  hour  bus  ride  lmfao)

the buzz in the air was palpable, every player walking off the court to go see their partners and families in the stands after their gold medal win. breanna walked over to you, sweat dripping down her face, her muscles flexed from the last 40 minutes of constant movement, and a bright gold medal hanging from her neck. she looked good.

you were so happy for her, but you also couldn't help your mind wondering off to what she might look like on top of you. you'd seen it many times before, but seeing her like that after her winning a gold medal made you just as aroused.

“hi baby,” she grinned, her hands lacing into your hair and pushing you close to her, interlocking lips with a fiery passion. you could tell—from the fervor of her movements—that she had the same intentions as you. she needed you, the adrenaline was pumping through her veins and she just had to get it out. it took everything in her to step away from you.

“meet me back at the hotel in an hour, okay?” she mumbles, her sticky forehead sticking to yours.

you nodded, giving her one last kiss before she walked away to reunite with her teammates in the locker room. you made your way back to the hotel, picking up champagne from a local store on the way. 

an hour later, you were laid out on the plush bed, clad in red lingerie. your finger lazily making its way down your body, teasing yourself until your lover got home. too busy lost in the sensation of your own fingers against your fabric covered nipples to notice the hotel door opening. breanna closed the door gently behind her, and stalked towards you. you only noticed her when you felt the bed dip under her weight. she was changed out of her jersey and was in a hoodie and sweats now. her hair was damp and the gold medal still hung from her neck. she crawled up the bed, coming up to kiss you.

her lips met yours, with much more passion than the last time you two kissed in the arena. “red set, huh?” she smirked, her hands running over the lacy details, groping your tits gently. a soft gasp fell from your lips, her hands against you felt so much better than yours. no matter how much you try, your own hands and fingers will never feel as good as breanna's, so you're grateful she's always there. 

“mhm, jus' for you,” you mumbled in between gasps while she sucked on your neck. she sucked and bit marks into your neck, not caring about people potentially seeing it the next day. after successfully covering your neck in purple and pink marks, she pulled herself up and started to take off the medal so she can take off her hoodie.

“keep the medal on, please…” you whined. a smug smirk came across her face as she took off the hoodie and her sports bra underneath, throwing them haphazardly across the hotel room.

a moan fell from your lips as you studied her toned upper body in nothing but a gold medal. it made you even more aroused, you were sure you damn near soaked the sheets from the sight. she leaned forward again, sucking and biting against your skin again. she unclipped the upper half of your lingerie set, moving down your body and latching her lips onto your nipple. the cold metal laid against your stomach, the mixed sensations of her hot mouth against your tit and the cold metal against your stomach made your brain go fuzzy. you were desperate for her to do something more, needing her to touch you.

you let out incoherent babbles and whines, praying she gets the hint. breanna's head perks up, her once soft blue eyes are now darker and swirling with a haze of lust. “use your words babygirl,” she purred, her accent peaking out.

“touch me, please.” 

“where, baby?” she asked, smirking at your frustrations when you whined again.

you grabbed her hand, guiding it down to your heated core. “clit, bre—please,”

“good girl.” she smiled, slipping the red lacy panties to the side and running her finger through your slick folds. you cried out, throwing your head back against the pillows. tension leaving your body as she gathered the slick and rubbed tight circles around your clit. 

“fuck bre,” you moaned, bucking your hips. she kissed you again, swallowing your moans as she slipped two fingers into you, gently thrusting them in and out of you. they made you feel so full, the sudden intrusion bringing you pure ecstasy. her fingers sped up, going faster and faster making you scream in pleasure. both you and breanna couldn't seem to care about your neighbors when she was knuckle deep in you. her abs flexed—the gold medal looking so good against the rippling muscle—as she fucked you, soft grunts leaving her lips. 

the thrusts became so much, you were getting so close. “bre, 'm close, please.” you whined, attempting to buck your hips but being held down by the weight of her on top of you.

“cum for me babygirl,” she purred against your ear, biting the lobe gently.

white hot heat rushed through you as you let go, moaning loudly as you gushed liquid. breanna kissed on you while she helped you ride out your high. “such a good girl,” she mumbled in your ear along with other strings of praises. 

after what felt like forever, you came back to yourself, feeling breanna's fingers gently pull out of you. bringing them up to your lips, prodding at your mouth.

“suck.”

[feyhunter78]

This new sweet, nerdy Miguel has me FERAL!!!!! HE'S SO CUTE I CAN'T —😩😩😩😩

I need some jealousy from him~ How do you imagine he acts when he feels jealous? He gets quiet and aloof, trying to avoid y/n so she don't notice? Or he gets angry and tries to mark territory? Hehe

AHH THANK YOUUUUU

I definitely want to write a full jealousy fic for him but I’ll give you a sprinkling of my thoughts while I plan for a full fic🫣

So, in the beginning before y’all get together he’s very quiet, really draws into himself, tries to act normal but is just a lot more reserved.

He’s afraid to voice how he feels because he doesn’t want to creep you out. (Gabriel got in his head. Bless his heart the poor boy is trying to help his brother, but he’s going about it the wrong way)

Very much a situation where he’s absent from class for a week or so because he gets sick and when he comes back he realizes another guy in class has been helping you with your notes.

You smile at the new guy, thank him in that sweet way you always thank Miguel and his stomach just churns and his chest starts aching. For a second he thinks he’s still sick, but when you smile at him and ask how he’s feeling the pain in his chest disappears.

He brushes it off, thanks you quietly for your concern, and throws himself into his work. For the first week you shrug it off thinking he’s still not feeling well, but after a while you end up confronting him which leads to:

“I just—I saw you and Brett, and, I’m glad you got help with your notes but you know you could’ve come to me.” He’s leaning against the wall, the wall you’ve trapped him against with your determined attitude and your inability to register when you’re invading his personal space.

“Miguel you were home, sick, and I didn’t want to bother you.” You remind him, your voice soft, tinged with concern.

He looks down at his feet, his shoulders hunched, his whole body curled in on itself. “You’re never a bother, not to me, so don’t—please don’t go looking somewhere else.”

But, when y’all get together???? Game changer. He’s still shy and he’s still the same Miguel you knew before but he’s more confident, he knows you won’t find it weird or creepy that he feels territorial over you. Now when a frat guy looks your way a bit too long in the courtyard he simply tilts your chin up with one finger and kisses you.

Of course his face is bright red after that and he buries it the crook of your neck, his big strong arms crushing you to his chest, and every time he does this you think it’s so cute.

If y’all are in private though, and say you have to go to a party or you’re going to be doing some joint event with a frat, he definitely likes sitting you in his lap and mouthing at your skin. Nothing too crazy on your neck, but he does leave a few large hickeys on your breasts, ones that sticks out from beneath the neckline of your shirt.

Just a bit of:

“Miguel! Come on, you know I didn’t bring any concealer.” You whine, your fingers tangled in his hair as his warm lips ghost over your skin, his tongue tracing the blossoming marks that trail down from your pulse point, dipping beneath the neckline of your shirt.

“I’m sorry mi dulce, I couldn’t help it, you look so pretty.” He says, as he dips his head biting down on the soft flesh of your breasts, his large hands holding them, pushing them up, his fang-like incisors scratching against your skin deliciously.

“I have to go, I’m going to be late for the mixer.” You try to tell him, your hands leaving his hair to lightly push at his chest.

One of his hands leaves your breasts, and spans your upper back keeping you pressed against him.

“Just one more? Please?” He asks, looking up at you with such adoration in his eyes you nearly grab your phone to text your sisters you’re not going to make it.

You sigh, but it’s halfhearted, playful, indulging. “One more.”

He smiles and captures your lips one more throughly distracting you as he lays you down on the couch under him.

[bigification]

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.

[venuslut]

PLEAAAAAAASEEEEEEEEE I NEED THE SECOND PART OF THIS MASTERPIECE 🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴 https://www.tumblr.com/venuslut/739570931659390976/fantasizing-about-being-fucked-by-sukunas-stomach?source=share

Glad glad glad to the bones there's a girl in town that shares the love of sukuna's stomach tongue, absolutely need more of this too, I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE THE SECOND PART OF THIS ❤️❤️❤️❤️🤤🤤🤤🤤

a/n: I know I don’t do requests but I’m itching to continue this story.

FANTASIZING ABOUT getting fucked by Sukuna’s true form for the first time ♡︎.

The fear of having both of Sukuna’s cocks inside you made your body freeze in his hold. Of all the times you and him had sex, he’s only ever used one in your pussy. And even that was painful since you were a virgin before you married him. But he never used the second one and you naively hoped that he had no desire to use it. Unbeknownst to you, Sukuna was waiting and plotting the whole time for the perfect opportunity to finally fuck both of your holes. At once.

“Y-you can’t! You can’t put your dick inside there! It’s dirty and not meant for that!" You protested, your face heating up when you felt his hard cocks press onto the crack of your ass. Dangerously close to your wet and puckered asshole. "It will be," he promises. Sukuna fully intends to take your ass. Soon. Right now, he wants to stick his cock in it just to shut you up and get it over with so he can stuff you full of his cum, just like what he does to your cunt. Oh the things he wants to do to you. Things that would show you just how ruthless he could be. You’re lucky he has a soft spot for you. Not that he would ever admit it but it’s obvious from how differently he treats you compared to his concubines who really serve no purpose since he’s to busy fucking you all the time. It’s about time he got rid of them anyways.

"’Kuna, please…'' you pout. He thinks that tongue-fucking your asshole is enough to prepare you to take his cock and it’s scaring you. There’s no way it’s gonna fit! Your clenched thighs and blown eyes don't go unnoticed by Sukuna and he knows you’re not as against this as you let on. This is why Sukuna stopped listening to your words a long time ago and focused on what your body said. And from what he’s hearing, it seems like you’re ready.

Sukuna removed the mouth on his hand from your asshole and positioned the engorged head of his cock to your puckered hole. “You look so pretty when you’re scared, I love that look…” a hand shot out to grip your neck and you're shocked silent as he applies pressure and partially cuts off your oxygen supply. “But if you keep denying me this then I’m not gonna be nice about it anymore,” he warned, his voice grave and low, ensuring you that he was not lying.

It was a shame to admit that you found his dominance and impatience arousing. You nearly screamed when he started pushing deeper, breaching the tight confines of your anus. Inch by inch, Sukuna slipped his girthy and long cock inside. “You’re still so tight even after I spent all that time stretching you out,” he grunts. You let out a strangled scream, restricted by the hand around your neck. It burned, but it was the sweetest agony you have ever felt. You could barely breathe. The heat in the room was so thick and your mind was fuzzy. Sukuna has filled you up before but this was different, you felt him in places that you didn’t know were there and drove you wild.

The pleasure was becoming too much and unable to bear, and you struggled to try and get away but Sukuna held you back. Fluidly, he switched positions and pushed you onto your back, following you by lifting his massive body to sit up. In the chaos of moving limbs, Sukuna had pulled slightly out and positioned his upper cock to your pussy entrance and pushed in, along with the cock in your asshole. “Oh my GOD!” You screamed. Shockwaves scatter throughout your nerves as you cum quick around him. Sukuna cursed under his breath before snickering, “you came as soon as I put them in, you really are a slut,” he teased before he gradually quickens his pace, roughly fucking you into the floor while loud noises you’ve never made in your life fall from your lips. For a split second, your vision went black.

Pure ecstasy slammed into you and your head rang from the impact. Your belly bulged in its efforts to accommodate not only one but two of Sukuna’s cocks. You mumbled something, like telling him to slow down, or was it to speed up? You really can’t remember, all you know is that it stopped when Sukuna pushed down onto the bulge on your lower tummy. The action was enough to have stars burst through your vision and a guttural moan escape your lips as you feel him stimulate your g-spot from the outside. Something you never thought possible. Sukuna grins ferally at your reaction, finding perverse pleasure from your intense reaction.

"Does it hurt when I fuck you like this?” He mockingly asked, continuing to pump both of his cocks into your pussy and asshole. You didn’t really register what he was asking, his voice was like static to you at this point but developed instincts compelled you to nod your head. Even if your eyes were rolling into the back of your head. It hurt like a bitch actually, but you were to overwhelmed to register it as pain.

“Good. Take it."

Sukuna continued to pound into you with a relentless rhythm, your legs twitching in the air involuntarily while he held you in place. "Look at me," he growled, his voice low and commanding when he noticed your dazed and unfocused eyes. "Don't you dare let those pretty little eyes wander. Look at me while I fuck you, Y/n. Look at me and know that you're mine."

He gripped both of your wrists and pulled them in front of you, using it as leverage. His hips snapped against yours, the sound of your bodies colliding filling the room. Each thrust pushed you both closer to the edge of oblivion, the pleasure threatening to consume you completely. But he wanted you to stay with him, to feel every inch of him claiming you. "You think it's too big, baby? You're just a tight little fucktoy for me, aren't you? And I'm going to stretch you out, make you mine." His voice was hoarse with desire. As he continued to pound into you, his movements became more frenzied, his thrusts deep and unrelenting. He wanted to see you completely undone, lost in a world of pleasure and pain. Your tears only fueled his hunger, the sound of your cries only urged him on, he wants to make you sob more, just for him.

“Sukunaaaaa— nng, you’re in s’ deep-“ you whimpered, your cries shaky as the curse’s cock pierced your insides. Your ass burned and stretched as he fucked into you. Your whimpers were shaky as Sukuna did all the work for you. His lower set of arms held your hips while his upper pair gripped each of your wrists. He’s standing on his knees and he angled your hips up to reach his cocks while your upper body still lays on the floor. Your legs are wrapped around his hips, having to lock them at the ankles from how wide he was. He used this to ram into you with all his power, ensuring that you couldn’t escape. His thick cock grazing harshly against your gummy walls as it stretched you out, stuffing your tight pussy to the max.

His hands also held you steady as his cockhead hit your cervix repeatedly, sending waves of pleasure and pain coursing through your body. "You like that?" he asks, not even sounding out-of-breath after all this time and you would feel embarrassed about being such a mess if you weren’t to busy trying to keep your sanity. "Tell me you love feeling my cock filling every inch of your tight little holes." The words just began to flow like a woman possessed, his command making your body act on its own. “I ah! love it! Love the way… you fuck me, Sukuna!” You moaned, your nails digging into your palm so hard and threatening to break skin. Sukuna’s cocks throbbed inside you at your words and his control slips, he tries to be somewhat gentle but it’s so hard when you’re so… perfect. "That’s right, slut. Only I can fuck you like this. You’re. My. Wife," he growled. "You're mine to fuck, to use, to love."

With each word, he punctuated his sentence with a forceful thrust, pushing himself deeper into you, hitting that sweet spot that had you trembling and begging for release. Sukuna groaned, his hands tightening their grip as he picked up the pace. "Such a good fucking girl," he praised, thrusting faster and harder than before. "Take it all, slut." His hips moved in sync with yours, driving them both closer to climax. He transferred both your wrists into one of his hands and used his now free hand to press down hard onto your womb, right over your tattoo. A pink and black heart design with intricate swirly lines and designs around/connected it. Designed specifically by Sukuna to forever mark you as his. While pressing down, he stretched his thumb to fervently stroke your clit. "Cum for me, baby," he growled, his voice hoarse with desire. "Let me feel you clench around me, give it to me, Y/n."

Sukuna’s name spills from your lips in a mindless chant as your entire world explodes into tiny pieces. A strange feeling gathers in you stomach. You know you’re about to cum, but something else is forming inside of you. The sensation crawls up your spine, burning your skin as it progresses and robbing the breath from your lungs. The corners of your vision turn white until all you can see is him. It's like a star exploding inside you when it starts, the heat is deep in your bones, spreading through every vein in your body and floating through your skin. You scream again, wailing shamelessly as you begin to cum around his cock. The milky liquid spurts out of you, covering the hair that grows above his cocks and collects on the floor under your hips. When you squirt for the first time, you gasp in complete shock and ecstasy. Crying as your body shakes from the aftermath. "Sukuna! oh, damn, damn, damn! Sukuna!" You shout shamelessly.

Sukuna's eyes widened at the sight of you squirting, your release coating his cock and the ground beneath you. He could feel the warmth of your release against his skin, mingling with the sweat that coated your body. He couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the intensity of your cries, your desperate pleas reaching deep into his primal desires. He reveled in your submission, in the way you called out for him. "Fuck! That's it, baby. Your pussy is so damn tight, cum on my fucking cock," Sukuna howls. With a roar, his hips shudders as he slams into you one last time, before releasing inside you, his hot cum oozing out and filling you until it can no longer fit. You swear you can feel your tummy bloat from the amount of cum he released into your pussy and asshole.

Your combined juices pour down your thighs, your body convulses, and even after a few seconds of pure bliss from the biggest orgasm you've ever had. You can't breathe, move, or have coherent thoughts. Sukuna might have literally fucked you dumb. “—Again,” is what catches your ears and your dazed eyes find Sukuna’s again, somewhat bringing you back to reality. “What—?” He releases your wrists and leans down to hover over you. “Squirt for me like that again,” he repeats and your eyes widen as dread goes down your spine as you realize that he wasn’t done with you. He takes your hands and gives them a small glance and you notice that you had drawn blood from how hard you were digging into your palm. Sukuna licked the blood off your palms and guided you to wrap your arms around him. “Dig your nails into me, hard,” he ordered and rolled his hips, eliciting a sharp moan from your lips.

“Sukuna…wait! I just came,” you protested, trying to close your legs and push him out. Sukuna growled in annoyance, grabbed your thighs and forcibly spread them. “Don’t fucking close your legs on my again, you know you like being used like this and quit your whining, you dirty bitch.” He hissed. Pulling back til only the head of his cocks remained before slamming back into you harshly, hitting against the entrance of your cervix. You cried and scored his back with your nails as you threw your head back and your body arched off the floor. Sukuna let out a guttural groan as your nails dug into his back, the pain only intensifying his pleasure. The sharp sting of your nails on his skin sent a surge of primal satisfaction coursing through his veins.

“Shit… you’re pussy and ass is so addicting, baby. ‘m not gonna stop fucking your pretty holes until you’re full of my cum.”

[didyoulookforme]

pov: matty finally comes back from tour

just some fluffy and smutty times after he arrives at your place.

this one is longer than usual as it’s one i had in my drafts from a while ago.

warning: 18+, smut. grammatical errors, typos.

word count: ~2,900

masterlist here

———

it was 17:48 and you stood facing your dirty floor length mirror. you kept messing with your hair, doing your best to tame it but nothing seemed to be working as little bits just kept sticking out at the sides. sigh.

today was the day. after many, many weeks (a lifetime, really) matty was finally coming back to london. you'd been counting down the hours for this night since you last hugged him right outside the uber. "don't miss me too much, darling," he whispered before he kissed your lips one more time, hopped inside the car, and left you standing there, alone.

to say you missed him was an understatement. you tried to keep occupied by picking up extra shifts at the cafe, frequenting the cinema by yourself, rearranging your room several times, anything to keep your mind from that messy curly hair and pretty brown eyes. but nothing worked which made you feel sick to your stomach with longing.

every other minute he made his way back into your thoughts whether you wanted him there or not. you missed his stupid, silly grin. you missed his baggy clothes. you missed his hands tangled in yours. you missed seeing him walk through your door.

it was now 18:12 and you finally finished picking out your outfit. some sheer black tights, a short denim skirt and one of his shirts, the flowery one which he accidentally left at your flat years ago. the buttoned top was too large for your frame, but you didn’t care as it very faintly smelled of coffee, cigarettes and matty.

you were choosing a ring next when a knock at the door made your heart jump. the jewellery didn’t matter anymore as you swiftly ran across your hallway, thankful that your flatmate agreed to spend the night elsewhere because she knew what would end up happening. you smirked because you knew she wasn't wrong...

you swung the door open (a bit harder than you meant to) and there he was, holding one single white flower.

“i’m searching for my girlfriend. do you know where she might be?” you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help and laugh at his stupid pickup line. "is that really the best you could come up with during the last few months, healy?"

you stepped forward to wrap your arms around him, nestling your face in the crook of his neck and pulling yourself in as close as humanly possible. his arms found your waist and the both of you stood there while you felt the warm blood rush through your body.

“i missed you, matty” is all you managed to say before you pulled away just far enough to kiss him on the lips which he eagerly welcomed. he tasted of honey and everything was okay again. “i missed you, too, love.” you kissed once more.

you stepped aside to welcome him in, closed the door in front of you, taking a long, deep breath before turning around. he held out the small flower which you gladly took to place in a small bottle half-filled with water. you enjoyed that he was one for cheesy, romantic gestures because deep down you loved them even if you didn't admit to it.

matty sat down on the floor to take off his beat up sneakers. "huh, so i guess that's where my shirt went," he looked up and pointed at the top you wore. you decided to leave the upper three buttons undone which you hoped he would notice. "but it looks much better on you." he definitely noticed.

———

it was now 20:36. you'd both spent a few hours catching up, matty sharing his stories from tour while you made him a very simple but tasty dinner. "you have no idea how much i missed having food that doesn't come in a greasy paper bag." he ate up every single bit of the meal while you just watched from your spot on top of the kitchen counter, glass wine between your hands.

while you missed him when he was gone, you didn't envy the lifestyle of a touring band. it sounded lonely. even though there were many people around you, it appeared they only wanted to get in your bed. matty didn't seem to mind so it made you wonder if anything might’ve happened between him and others...

you continued to sip your wine, taking mental notes of his current appearance. his eyes were tired yet his greenish cardigan made them sparkle. his hair was slightly shorter than you remembered, yet defined curls still framing his face. he wore his usual necklace but there were some new ones added to the mix. you liked them (he knew you would).

when he finished his food, he got up to wash the dirty dishes and store them away. dear matty wasn't one to keep his own home clean but you appreciated his efforts to be better at your place. thank you.

he walked over to you (still on the countertop), snaked his arms around your waist and placed his head on your chest. you set your wine glass aside to play with his hair, soft and fluffy between your fingers. you definitely missed this.

it wasn't long before the both of you sat on the sofa messily kissing as if to make up for the time he was gone. you'd be lying if this wasn't what you’d been looking forward to the most, yet it still caught you by surprise when you found yourself straddling his lap. you realized what happened and it made your face turn red, which matty instantly noticed.

"are you okay, love?" he kissed the corner of your mouth, "we can always stop if you want." he gently ran his hands up and down your thighs to provide some comfort, eyebrows knitted together wondering if he had done something to upset you.

he had done nothing wrong. you hesitated because for once, you wanted to be in control. and knowing that you had mindlessly crawled on top of him made you realize you were about to make that happen. or at least attempt to.

you grabbed his hands in yours, placing them over his head and behind the sofa as his look of concern turned to that of hunger. you bent down to eagerly kiss him, making your way to his neck and leaving small red love bites all over. you could tell he wanted more as his hips started to shift up and down, but you didn't give him the satisfaction just yet. instead you bit down on his neck one last time before placing your forehead against his. "i want to be the one riding you tonight."

you saw as his pupils dilated at your request, his goofy grin starting to appear before your lips found his again to stop him from talking. (this wasn’t the time for cocky remarks, sorry matthew.) you could feel him melt underneath you as his fingers went soft in your grasp. "do you understand?" all he could do was nod before you bit his bottom lip, finally eliciting a moan from him. this was all the confirmation needed to boost your confidence.

matty gazed at you, slowly panting through parted lips as you brought his arms back over his head and placed his palms on your chest. he understood what you needed from him, as he started touching your breasts making you close your eyes and smile. “fuck, i want you.” he began to unbutton your shirt but you quickly swatted his hands away. “not time for that yet, i’m afraid.” the sounds that came from his lips were just heavenly, want dripping from every groan.

now you were the one who started to remove his cardigan, pulling at the fabric of his white shirt underneath until his upper half was bare. “you’re a thing of beauty.” you couldn’t help but kiss him again, holding on to his shoulders hard enough for your nails to dig into his skin, leaving more marks on his body.

you began to slowly grind your hips against him, feeling his excitement through his jeans. his fingers found your hips as he tried to get you to move faster. you stopped.

right away he knew he made a mistake, causing him to groan in frustration and cover his face with his hands. “this is not fair.” seeing him want you this bad was exactly what you had craved when you daydreamed of this scenario.

you removed his hands from his face and pressed a peck on his nose. “just taking my time to see what you do, baby. clearly it’s not your thing.” this made him chuckle but you could feel the tension building on his body as you slid down his lap, placing yourself on your knees right in front of him.

you pressed your cheek against his thigh, innocently looking up at him, batting your eyelashes at a sexually frustrated matty. you didn’t feel too bad for him.

now that you had started to undo his belt, he gazed down at you, bottom lip quivering between his teeth pleading for you to go faster. you managed to unzip his trousers, right away noticing a wet spot on his boxers which you touched with your thumb, swears leaving his mouth the second he felt you finally pay attention to his cock.

you pulled down his jeans which fell to pool at his ankles. you kissed his tip through the thin fabric, hands moving up to hook on the waistband and tugging it down. the dumb expression on his face was priceless. you had him were you wanted and there was nothing he could do about it.

all of his clothing was finally set aside. a naked matty sat right in front of you and you were pretty sure you could do anything. you still didn't feel bad for him.

———

you quickly glanced at your watch, the hands telling you it was 21:42. still on your knees, you decided it was maybe time to give poor matty some relief. he had tried his best after all.

when you started to stroke his cock, his head fell back and the sounds pouring out of his mouth were otherworldly. his hands were to his sides, grabbing at the fabric of the couch as you continued to move your own fingers up and down at a slow but steady pace.

once again you placed your cheek on his leg and looked up at him, taking a mental picture of wet parted lips, unruly brown hair, and slightly closed eyes.

he finally looked back at you, lifting his right hand to run it through your hair. even though you were giving him a hard time, he was gentle with you, knowing that hurried actions weren't going to get him anywhere tonight. you were glad he now understood. even though you wanted to be in control and make him come undone, you still yearned for softness and care, something which you've always wanted from a relationship but were never lucky to receive. this was the closest you've ever been.

you continued to stroke him while you brought your lips to his tip, taking him in your mouth. "fuck, fuck..." you knew it took all of matty's strength to not thrust his hips into you. good boy, you thought.

after a few minutes of licking and sucking, you stopped (sorry matthew), stood up and grabbed his hands in yours to lead him into your room. when the two of you reached your bed, you kissed him for the millionth time that night before gently pushing him into your bed. you both laughed, matty getting settled on your covers, head on your pillow, all while you took off your skirt and tights.

he stared at you getting undressed, doe eyed and sweet, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. ugh, he was perfect you had to admit.

in only your (well, his) shirt and underwear, you crawled on top of him, carefully sitting on his legs. this is how you had pictured this evening, you above him studying his every action.

you started to undo the remaining buttons of the flowered shirt one by one, taking your time getting to the last one. an excited matty lifted himself on his forearms, sucking at his bottom lip when the shirt fell off your arms and realized you had nothing underneath. "god, you're going to be the death of me."

he grabbed a hold of your thigh, drawing slow circles with his thumb wondering what your next move would be. what he wasn't expecting was to see you slide your hand down your panties and to start rubbing your clit. to be honest, neither did you.

but it felt good. you knew how to please yourself better than anyone and it was made infinitely better by having a horny boy gazing in your direction, lusting after you. his hand had stopped caressing your leg and instead he was holding on to it like his life depended on it. you continued to touch yourself, slowly moving your hips along and never breaking eye contact with him.

it wasn't long after that you inserted a finger, making sure he knew exactly what you were doing. you didn't confess that you did this same thing many times while he was gone, thinking of fucking him senseless. that's what you now wanted, too.

you pulled your hand out of your underwear and swiftly took them off in the process, finding yourself naked on top of a patient matty. you didn't waste any more time as you moved forwards, gently touching his lips as he opened his mouth to hungrily suck on your fingers. you wanted him to taste you, his moans reassuring you he was enjoying every second of it.

once your fingers were wet enough, you went straight for his cock again, but moved at a much faster pace than before. the poor boy couldn't keep a hold himself anymore, loud whimpers echoing off the walls and his whole body twitching underneath you. "please, fuck me." that's all you needed to hear before you kneeled forward to place him at your entrance and finally start riding him.

the sensation of him filling you up felt unlike anything else, making you arch your back in hopes of getting even closer to him. you couldn't go slow any longer, but your movements were still calculated, wanting to savour every single moment.

"you feel so good, sweetheart," he managed to mumble out between moans. his head was on the pillow, a lewd expression on his face as you continued to grind your hips against him, his hands firmly holding on to ensure you didn't stop.

your hair started to stick to your body as sweat appeared on your skin. you leaned back a little to keep yourself upright, while also giving him a better view. you knew exactly what you were doing and he took notice. a string of swears stumbled out of him, a look of nothing but hunger across his face as you kept thrusting yourself against him. "matty, please touch me."

you didn't need to ask him twice before he propped himself up to a sitting position and started to grab your breasts while you continued to fuck him. there was no harshness to his touch, which you greatly appreciated, a deep contrast to your hips frantically bucking back and forth on his hard cock.

his mouth went to your neck, placing small kisses wherever he could while moaning your name against your skin. it was all too much and not enough. he cupped your face, resting his forehead against yours, both breathing heavily and quietly laughing at the same time. just as the flower he gave you earlier that day, these cheesy, small gestures were what you craved the most. "matty."

it was at that moment that you hit your high, unable to control your movements any longer and giving yourself permission to let go as he held your body close. your head fell back as he carefully grabbed the side of your neck to ensure you didn't go far. a few seconds later you felt warmth as he came inside you, crying your name once again.

you kept your arms wrapped around each other for a while, him kissing the top of your head asking if you were okay. you nodded against his neck, unable to move much as most of your energy had all been spent.

eventually he fell down on his back and looked at you, “fuckin' hell, that was amazing.” he was still catching his breath, you both were. “maybe i should go on tour more if this is the welcome i get.” that earned him a pillow smack on the side of the head. “don’t get any ideas, healy. you got lucky this time.”

[drewsbuzzcut]

I Get Wild On You

college baseball player!drew starkey x fem!reader

a college baseball au blurb (summer series)

📍Florence, Italy

warnings: SMUT

You were glad you were the only ones in the villa, surrounded only by nature. No one has to hear the way you bounce on him, fucking yourself on his cock. The squelching sounds of both of your arousal each time he rutts his hips into yours. He enjoys the way your warm, slick walls cling to him, sucking him back in every time you lift your hips up.

Drew’s leaning back on his elbows, hands resting in between your shoulder blades as your body arches into his. Sweat is starting to line your forehead, causing your hair to stick to your skin. Your movements are slow; the feeling of him gliding along your sweet spot and your clit being stroked by his finger makes your entire body erupt in shocks of bliss, keeping you at that slow pace.

The night had started off innocent. You and Drew decided to go on a nighttime walk, wanting to get a good look at the full moon and the stars sprinkled around the night sky.

Although the sun had long gone down, and the wind was finally alone, there was still a soothing warmth, relaxing the both of you as you walked hand in hand on the cobblestone.

His strong arms wrapped around you, hands resting on your stomach. You let yourselves bask in the quietness while the glow from the moon reflected off of you. This was one of your favorite things to do together; observing a full moon and letting it charge the both of you. To the both of you, the moon was a powerful thing.

“You’re my moon. No, actually you’re my entire world,” Drew whispers in your ear. Your body melts into his at the way his words sound like silk.

You turn in his hold, hands innocently creeping up his shirt to feel his skin. He’s wearing a toothy grin, knowing damn well he’s turning you to mush. His fingers tuck some of your hair behind your ears, making a clear view of your face.

“Your whole world, huh?” You tease, leaning up on your tiptoes to drag the tip of your nose along the side of his neck. His cologne lingers from the day, and you find yourself taking deep breaths of the scent.

“Yes, my whole world,” he affirms, hands planting themselves on the small of your back.

You kiss your way up his neck to his face, paying extra attention to his waiting lips. They slot together like missing pieces of a puzzle. You’ve never felt something so reassuring.

“You’re my stars,” you claim, swaying in his hold, letting your hips lure him into your trap. Your hands rest on his cheeks, keeping his eyes on yours.

“Yeah, well, you make me see stars,” he muses, a smirk taking over his face.

“Hell yeah I do. Especially when I do this,” you slowly kiss along his jawline, feeling his hands clench where the rest. “And this,” you nip his earlobe before lightly sucking it into your mouth, earning a smooth groan from the man. His hands tighten around your hips, pulling you further into his body. Your arms wrap around his neck and you lean up to finally kiss him.

“Fuck, you’re a minx,” he mutters into the kiss that is getting a little too heated for the public eye.

“Take me back to our place, and I’ll show you how much of a minx I can be,” you jest, leaving him with one last kiss before you start simpering off.

Which led you to now. You still your hips in the cradle of his lap. His length is still hitting deep inside you. You can feel your orgasm building, that tingle is starting to infiltrate all your senses. You give yourself a minute or two to edge yourself, not quite wanting that coil to pop yet. Drew has other plans. He grips your hips, basically holding you down while he thrusts up inside you at a ferocious pace. You can feel your orgasm bubbling, about to send the signal for your moans to claw their way out of your throat. You attempt to rest your upper body by setting your hands on Drew’s chest. You lean down for a kiss, trying to drag out this moment, but the moment your lips touch his, his body is falling flat on the mattress with you falling on top of him, lips still locked.

“More, Drew. Faster, harder, please,” you whine and beg, slamming your hips down on his member.

Your first orgasm rings through you, the sizzling heat numbing your body. He doesn’t stop his thrusts. You start to go limp against him, but he isn’t going to stop until he cums in you.

“Fuck, stop squeezing me. You’re going to make me cum,” he groans, head leaning back, open for your lips to claim.

“Cum for me, Drew. C’mon, cowboy, fill me up,” you say in his ear as sultry as possible.

You raise your body again, caressing your boobs just to get him riled up. He watches you with wonder. His eyes are glazed over, sparkling like stars. You don’t even expect to have a second orgasm, but you do and that sends your walls spasming. It triggers his release and the way you milk him makes his length pulse and stay hard.

“Fuck,” you whimper, body falling to the side of his.

Your body jerks at Drew’s unexpected touch when he trails his fingertips over the valleys of your bare body.

He kisses the side of your neck, your shoulder, and then your lips.

“Ti amo,” he whispers it so delicately into your skin, but the phrase is very well present in your heart and mind.

“Ti amo,” you say back, covering the both of you with the cool sheet before cuddling into him.

a/n: Sorry it’s taking me kind along to update this, but I hope y’all enjoy it!

taglist: @maybankslover @91vhs @sp00ky-spr1te @livsters @seris-circle @one-sweet-gubler @a06e @tiacordelia02 @ijustwanttoreadlols @a23starkey @cameronmedia @mutual-mendes @slut4drudy

[prettyboykatsuki]

hey fang, how do we feel about isagi + prone bone position and him moaning in your ear telling you about how much he loves you and how perfect you are for him

im thinking deeply of him today and this just came on my mind and wanted to know your thoughts

tell me, tell me, i tend to you | y. isagi

✮ tags ; prone-bone <333, porn no plot, afab + fem!reader (referred to as isagis girlfriend), aged-up charas + isagi is a pro player, reader is a dorming uni student, fingering, creampies, praise and affection, isagi is a little bit of a tease 18+

✮ wc ; 3.1k (idek)

✮ a/n ; anon you sent this in sept im so sorry. but he's in my mind. i desire and want him bad. title from a brent faiyaz song

✮ synopsis ; isagi is always wanting to be as close as possible.

Isagi lingers on you like a shadow.

He sticks famously to your sides. All your paparazzi photos that eventually blow up on twitter are taken with him wrapped around. His face buried in your shoulder while you're standing in line. His hand in your lap while you watch movies.

Just a few months, he was trending on twitter because of his P.D.A. A video taken by his manager, closing in on him resting his sweaty head in your lap. Rubbing his face against your thigh with a pout before reaching out for your hand and rubbing his thumb over your ring size.

Through the muffled audio, only one thing could be heard. The sound of your named in his voice, lips curling around the words i like you before placing a kiss to the back of your hand.

He isn't very public about your relationship otherwise. When people ask about you, he's minimal with the informaiton. But every time it does end up in the public eye, it's almost always because everyone finds the way Isagi sticks to you to be endearing. He likes being close to you.

He's always been big on physical touch. When he's tired or stressed - the first thing he does is collapse on top of you, itching to be looked after. He'll bring your hand all the way to his neck and wait for you to scratch his scalp asleep.

And when he misses you, the first thing you'll recieve is a bone-crushing hug and a plethora of kisses all over your face. Always followed by a muffled confession of longing.

It should be no surprise to you that Isagi is always aching for ways to close the gaps between you. Searching for solutions to ensure he can be as close as he can, fit himself into the crevice between your heart and ribs just because.

It's not surprise to feel Isagi hover over you after a long week away from home.

You lay flat on your stomach as you sift through the syllabus of your classes next semester. The sun is barely starting to set and you're comfortable in your bed - heather grey sheets and a big comforter over you.

You smell like citrus and soap. Crisp, cool evening air lets you breathe easy as you read through a bunch of repeated plagarism policies and pre-emptively stress about due dates. Your face is propped up on your palm. Your legs are up, crossed at the ankle and swinging as you read.

You're too entrenched in it to hear the shower turn off. You only notice Isagi when he's already entered back in the room, feeling his presence before you turn your head to look.

He clicks the door behind him gently, locking it before leaning back on the door frame. You turn your head without looking first, before Isagi clears his throat to catch your attention.

When you finallydo look, you feel something stir in your stomach. You've got a good looking boyfriend, you always seem to forget. His shirt is gone and discarded - a part of basketball shorts just barely pulled up over his boxers.

His hair is wet, pushed back and dripping on his shoulders where a grey towel is hung around his neck. You feel conscious of yourself, and your proximity. How many weeks it's been since you've last seen him. So you laugh, soft, crossing your arms and resting your chin on your upper arm.

"Hey, handsome."

He grins at you.

"Jeez. Hey. I missed you."

Before you get a chance to reply, Isagi makes his way towards you. Feet padding on the floor before he stops, pulling his knee up till its resting on the matress. He's just in front of you, your face directly towards his abs.

He bends down for you, hands on the side of your face. You pull yourself up, pushed up on one hand to meet in the middle. When Isagi kisses you, he's soft. He's a lot more confident than when you first started dating, slow strokes of his thumb across your cheek. Everything feels likes its stopped around you.

Isagi looks hungry when he pulls back, kissing the corner of your mouth as he cradles your face in his hands.

"You been busy?"

"Mm, a little? University is opening up again soon so I was being pro-active."

"Woah, you're so smart. My girlfriends so cool."

"You're ridiculous."

"I'm getting in your good graces before you abandon me for your dorms."

"You're already in my good graces, dummy."

"Nice."

He kisses you one more time, this time your forehead before pulling away. When he's stood up again, you move to pull the comforter off your body and let him join you in bed.

But Isagi reads your actions before you can do it. He pulls them off in one fell swoop before pausing, breath catching. When you look up, his eyes are blown out. You turn your head to look at him clearly, brows tightened in confusion.

"Baby?"

"Ah," He says, dropping the comforter on the other side of the bed "What're you wearing..."

You raided his closet not too long ago, fitting into one of his stretchy tanks before putting on some shorts. You've got on socks since it's cold, white and tight around the ankle. House clothes.

"Comfy clothes. I borrowed your tank."

"Yeah... noticed that too."

He reaches his hand out and places them on the back of your thigh, squeezing softly. Your eyes widen.

"Isagi?"

"Mm?" He says, innocent as you feel him get on the bed. You can't turn your head anymore when he does "Don't worry about me, focus on your school stuff."

You huff out some air.

"And how do you want me to do that, huh? What're you—"

You feel Isagi above you. Both of his knees on either side of your hips, his thumb and forefinger reaching around as much of your waist as he can reach. He hooks his thumb underneath your tanktop, pushing up slowly. You hold your breath at the sudden contact, and when you go again - to figure out what exactly he's doing, you feel something hard pressing into your ass.

It clicks all at once and you gasp.

"Isagi."

"Don't even—," He punctuates his words by bending over you. Isagi fits above you like its nothing, he's overpowering sometimes. The presence of subtle intimidation as he fills his voice with airy cheer "—worry about me. Just focus on what you need to do."

But of course you can't. You couldn't even if you tried. Isagis hands squeeze your sides, pushing under your weight to squeeze the fat your tits between his palms. Calloused and rough against your soft skin, caught between the thick cotton.

A moan splinters off from the sentence you intended to form, soft and easy. Like habit, you push your ass against Isagi's bulge as you feel it. Hard through the cloth and eager against the curves of yoyur body. He lets out a little whine.

"I missed you," He hums, syllables drawn out as he gropes you. You feel his mouth at the nape of your neck, pushing your hair away so he can reach it. He kisses down the slope of your throat, down your shoulder - before sinking his teeth in. The hard point digs and digs, until there's something like a bite mark that throbs in your skin.

Isagi kisses it afterwards and you draw a deep breath as he opens his mouth to do it again and again.

"Sure seems like it," You giggle, turning your head just to peek at him "You're like a leech today, hm?"

"I'm always like that. You just look uhm...sexy in my clothes. Makes me wanna.."

"Makes you wanna fuck me?"

"Ngh, yeah. Just like this."

"Whatever you want. Congrats on your big win, sweetheart."

"Fuck, you're so," He says through a laugh, where his voice pitches off. Deeper and sexy and confident in that unusual way. It feels like he's possessed by something but you love it. You love stroking Isagi's ego. You love the way he acts when you do "Don't even know. Maybe it'll make more sense if I fuck you."

"Isagi," You whine this time, again with purpose and he laughs "I missed you too."

"Don't rile me up on purpose."

"But it's fun,"

"Not for me," He says, and he means it. You know that he does because he makes a grunt of frustration as he rolls hips up "Just makes me...want to keep you all to myself."

"I'm all yours, Isagi. Always and forever."

"Yeah," He pulls the fabric of your shirt all the up until the material is bunched at the top of your breasts. When your skins all exposed, he presses his soft lips at the top of your spine and slowly works his way down. His hands squeeze your ass hard enough to pull you apart. He rests his forehead on your back "Always, love."

There's something resting in his voice that makes every nerve in your body heat. You're aware of your proximity. Of Isagi's bare chest and the warmth that's radiating off of it. Your heartbeat thrums in your throat like you're about to spit it out.

Isagi doesn't pull your shorts down far when you feel his fingers in the elastic waistband. He doesn't even tug it down to your knees, instead leaving them tight and half-way squeezing your legs together. You feel yourself collapse into your bed, arms crossed in front of you.

You squeeze your eyes closed as you feel his hand. He's hover over your calves and his hands are pulling your pussy apart. You can feel your clit throb, arousal sticky and pooling in thick strands. It drips as Isagi keeps you open with his hands, thumb starting at your clit and running against the seam of your cunt with a deep sigh.

"You're prettier than anyone I've ever seen. So pretty."

"Isagi." You moan, whimpering as he teases you. Pulls your pussy open until you can feel it stretch without anything inside, running his fingers along your folds until they're sticky without pushing in "Give it to me."

"You want me?"

"Uh-huh. C'mon, c'mon."

"Yeah, that's right. Shouldn't keep you waiting," He says, humming, before you feel his hand close to your face. "Open up."

You follow without protest, lips parting as Isagi's fingers enter your hot mouth. His fingers are long, thin and pretty - reaching the back of your throat without any effort at all. You moan around them, sliding your tongue between them.

"Get 'em messy. Nice and messy,"

Your head feels heavy on your shoulder, mouth drooling around Isagi's fingers without a single thought in your head other than how much you want to be closer. How much you want to stick to his usual routine of clinging. You feel the spit drip down on your chin, onto your chest. Isagi coos at you.

"That's good."

He pulls his hand way before tilting your chin, kissing you gently depsite all the drool and mess. Maybe because of it.

He sneaks his hand between your thighs, middle finger sliding against your folds and your whole body trembles at the promise of being touched. Everything feels like it's melting around you, sliding and and the air in the room is thick. Isagi has nice hands. Gentle and nice with a few scars on his palms, and his fingers are long.

They don't hurt when they stretch you out. But you feel them, feel the texture and feel the length and feel the rest of his hands rest on his ass. You can feel the beat of Isagi's heart nearly, at the proximitity and suddenly one finger feels like too slow.

He pumps it out of you, slow and and steady and you whine and whine. You feel like you'll collapse if the wait is any longer. With mercy, Isagi slides another finger and helps you stretch out. He hums through it, buries himself all the way down to the knuckle. Deeper and deeper until he's touched that part of you.

You feel your body losing strength as Isagi works you open, till it doesn't feel so tight so he can fit into you easily. It's all emptiness, all waiting to be full with Isagi all over.

"Gonna put it in, okay?" He informs you. You can't see him behind you, so you're left to conjure pictures of it. It makes your heart flutter, stomach flipping as you think of what Isagi must look like above you.

You hear his clothes come off, the silky swish of shorts and the smooth and texture material of his cotton boxers going next. Isagi lets out a warm puff off air from his lips. He rubs the tip of his cock against the roundest part of your ass in what feels close to affection. You can feel it, how it leaks and twitches and throbs against you like a promise.

And Isagi does that for so long, rubbing his cock against you. Against the puffy folds of your cunt and against your thighs and the creases of everywhere he can reach. He's teasing you. It leaves you gasping, arousal coming to the boiling point of frustration.

"You want something?" He says, almost coy. Near playful in that egotistical, mean sort of way he doesn't usually do unless you plead. You moan, voice coarse.

"Yoichi," You say, figuring maybe that'd be enough for him to push in but he doesn't it "Please, baby. Give it to me."

"Give you what? C'mon, tell me, hm?"

"Want your dick in me." You say with a whine. He laughs over you, bubbly and boyish and miserably attractive. If you weren't so horny, you'd be angry but he sounds so good like that.

"Really now? Guess I should give it to you since you asked so nicely."

"Thank you, thank you—oh fuck."

Isagi feels good when he pushes the tip into you slowly. He pushes it into you slow. His cock is hard and longer than thick and it feels so impossibly good. Your stomach tenses in anticipation for every inch and he gives you it just as promised. With a smooth roll of hips, his own body reacting naturally to your soft, wet heat.

He's so hard inside of you, throbbing. The skin on skin is too intense to breathe - even the tiniest motion leaving you falling forward. Whatever you feel is strengthened by the sound of Isagi's voice. The harsh way he groans.

His body weight melts into yours and nothing exists outside of you. All you can think about is Isagi's cock, and the weight of his body. His chest and the rest of his body is alarmingly strong, pure sinew under the skin that tenses and strains. You feel his chest, plush and broad, right up against your back.

And this time you can hear his heartbeat, really. You can hear it pump against his, how loud and fast it is and how it rings in his ears. Isagi is inside of you and all over you. His chin is resting on your shoulder and you can hear his breathing in all of it's uneven desperation.

All of Isagi is all of you. You don't know where he starts and where you stop. Isagi is inside of you and he's so close to you and your everything is in carnal cohesion with one another. The only thing your body wants wholly is for him to move.

And he does, eventually - after pushing his cock all the way to the base. And you're still laying flat on your stomach, now pinned under his weight.

Instead of a hard thrust, your met with a deep and shallow one. It's different. It doesn't knock into you. More like a carving, a gentle scraping touching a part of you you'd never thought you'd reach. The euphoria of scratching a deep itch, Isagi melts you into him.

"Oh, love." He groans, hips rolling over and over "You're perfect, feels perfect, feels so good fuck."

You whimper against your sheets, cheek planted onto them as he fucks you with the weight of his whole body.

"I'm so lucky. Gotta keep—ngh, fuck—winning so we can stay like this, yeah? You like when I win, right?"

You nod your head wearily before forcing out a soft yes.

"And I like winning for you. I like when you brag about and I like that everyone knows that you always cheer for me. You know that? Love you so much."

"Isagi," You beg, with all the patience and need you can muster "Fuck me, fuck me."

Isagi laughs against the shell of your ear, teeth nipping slightly.

"Uh-huh. I will. C'mon, grind against the bed a little. Make yourself feel good."

You don't know if Isagi is just good at reading you, but you whimper. He lets up just so you can angle yourself - your clit rubbing against something that you were laying on. A blanket squished underneath you, Isagi moves so you can rut yourself on it while he fucks you. It's thoughtful. Makes you so horny you can't do anything but lose yourself to him.

You squrim until your little achy clit catches onto the material. Everything is tight together and Isagi smiles as he feels you clench around his cock hard. You're gonna cum soon. With just a little more effort, and he knows.

"That's what you needed right? I'm gonna move with you. Cum when you feel it."

He matches your paces with terrifying precision. The control in his movements is intoxicating, matches the perfect rhythm for you're grinding yourself and everything around you is coming undone.

You're going to cum. You're going to cum hard and it's going to be around Isagi's cock while he's in you all the way. Everything is so snug and your whole body is locked. A fist clenched or the weight of something before it breaks.

When you cum, everything blurs together. Every motion and every sound and you're so dizzy. Everything smells like sex and sweat and Isagi is whispering sweet nothings in your ear. It's pure euphoria and you choke on the air around you. Your body shudders and your cunt throbs like it doesn't want Isagi to leave.

Isagi fucks you through your high, and when you're all tuckered out - his lips are against your neck.

"Can I cum?" He asks, just in case. You giggle.

"Do it inside." You purr. Isagi curses over you, and another wave of pleasure floods you as he spills inside. Thick spurts of cum making your insides white until he practically collapses above you.

When he's finished, he rubs his cheek on your skin and you laugh.

"You're heavy," You tease. Isagi hums.

"Move later. Wanna stay like this"

"Not even gonna pull out, huh?"

"Nope."

[catt-leya]

Need a rick Grimes anal smut like could u imagine letting this man put it in there like I know he's thick as well imagine it's Ur first time and it hurts a little but knowing he's getting so much pleasure from it ugh 🤤🤣like he gets off on u being so vulnerable haha anyways-

Trust || Rick Grimes 18+

Hey sweethearts 👉🏼👈🏼 it's my first time writing something like this and most of the time I didn't know what I was doing 👉🏼👈🏼💗 Gosh I don't remember the last time I was so freaking insecure about posting something...but yeah here it is 🥴💗

Warnings: anal sex, praise kink and my usual smutty stuff

"Darling?", Rick deep voice enters your ear from your bedroom and you call out, "Yes?"

You slide the brush through your still-damp hair and step into the doorway to take a look at your boyfriend.

Rick is leaning against the headboard of the bed with his hands clasped behind his head, "I'd like to ask you something."

His upper arms bulge and tighten his shirt as he moves a little and you mumble distractedly, "Yeah, sure. Hang on a sec. I'll be right there."

With one last glance at Rick, you turn and blow out the candle before setting your brush down next to the sink and stepping into the bedroom, smiling.

Swinging, you drop onto your bed and pull your knees up to your chest, "So?"

Rick drops his arms and your eyes dart over his heavy curls that fall low on his face. Without thinking, you reach out and brush it from his gorgeous blue eyes, then placing your hand on his beard-covered cheek and gently tugging at his gray hair, "What do you want to ask me?"

Calculating, he looks at you, thinking about how to phrase his question so as not to scare you off. Not that you're scared and insecure, but he knows that the question he wants to ask you would make you cringe. He just knows it.

So he reaches out and pulls you closer until you're kneeling beside him and he doesn't take his eyes off you, "I want you to do something for me."

Irritated, you furrow your eyebrows and rest your hand flat on his stomach, "Okay? And what do you want me to do for you?"

Gently tugging at the fabric of his shirt, he slides a hand to your hip as his eyes flash, "Would you let me take you from behind?"

Astonished by his question, you shrug, "Yeah? Why not?"

It's not like Rick hasn't pushed you across a table to fuck you from behind before. It's nothing special, per se, and especially nothing he'd have to explicitly ask you to do beforehand.

His hand slides from your hip to your ass and he squeezes, "Not the way you think, darling."

Rick can tell by your face when it clicks in your head and you understand what he's getting at.

Your pretty face flushes red and you mumble, "Is that what you want?"

"Hmhm," his body vibrates under your palm and you wince.

Actually, you shouldn't be surprised that he asked you. 

Most of all, you should have expected it.

Never would he do anything without your consent, but every once in a while, as he bent you over the kitchen counter and fucked you dumb until your hips bruised from his hard thrusts, he would press his thumb very gently against your second entrace and yes, with the squeeze on both sides, you had the orgasm of your life every time. But he never brought it up to you and you always skirted the issue too. 

Until now.

Just the thought of you so vulnerably sticking your butt up in the air to get fucked in the ass and shaking with fear that it would hurt turns him on. 

So much so that his pupils grow huge and you look into his dark eyes as you ask uncertainly, "Now?"

He lowers his eyes to your lips, "Yes, darling. Now."

You're really not averse to all of this, and you know that Rick would never intentionally hurt you so much that you couldn't take it. 

But even with that guy who took your virginity in the backseat at your school, you were incredibly insecure and scared, as you are now, as you close your fist around his shirt and breathe in a shaky voice, "Okay."

Slowly, he straightens up a little until he's close to your plump lips and whispers, "You trust me, right?"

You nod and he hums, "Then trust me to take care of you and to stop when you don't want to anymore."

Again you nod and he connects his lips with yours.

His kiss is gentle and comforting, even as he pushes you down onto the mattress by the shoulder and slides over you, careful not to smother you with his significantly larger body.

Rick's gray beard, which has grown a bit longer than he would normally wear it, scrapes across your soft cheek and he breaks away from your lips to place small kisses on your jaw, running his hands along the sides of your body, "My pretty girl. Will you spread your legs for me?"

Your fingers dig into his shoulders as he pushes your legs further apart with his hips and his head wandering lower.

Your breath stops for a moment as he pushes up your sleep shirt, which is actually his, and spreads wet kisses around your belly button.

A soft whimper escapes your lips, "Rick..." as your legs start to shake from him being so close, already clenching greedily.

"Yes, darling?", usually Rick is more the rough and harsh type but today even his voice is soft as velvet and you squirm as he presses his thumb against the fabric of your panties covering your dampening pussy.

You don't even know what exactly you were going to say as he presses your clit through the fabric and you moan, pressing your head into the pillows.

Rick is good at everything he does and he even excels at sex. It's like he's made it his personal mission to make you cum as often as he can, and if you're honest, just looking down is almost enough to make you cum for him.

The way he kneels between your legs and the curls you brushed out of his face earlier are hanging back in front of his eyes…

He licks his lips as he looks down at your wet pussy, "Take it off, darling."

His southern drawl becomes heavier and you reach for the waistband of your panties with clammy hands.

Somewhat awkwardly, you kick your panties to the side and immediately Rick lowers his head between your legs.

At first it's just his breath hitting your twitching cunt, but still you whimper softly and he purrs, "Such a good girl. You just lie there and be pretty for me. That's all you want, right? To be pretty for me and take what I give you."

Your eyes are glued to his curly head, and when he kisses the inside of your thigh, you gasp, "Yes."

You realize he doesn't mean it, but the way he talks to you in bed turns you on so much that you cry out softly when then too his lips are on your soaking cunt and he licks over it from bottom to top.

Your clit throbs and you reach for his hair, but he pulls his head away from you and straightens up, "Turn around."

The heart in your chest stops for a moment before you obey his command and turn onto your stomach.

His callused fingers grab your hips and he pulls you to your knees so he has your ass right in front of his cock and your whole body tenses.

Rick feels your tense muscles and gently squeezes your hip, "Darling, relax. It's all good."

It's a strange mixture of arousal and fear, being so vulnerable and practically defenseless, that you flinch violently as he slides his hand between your legs and plays lightly on your pussy.

Actually, you kind of expected him to get right down to business, but instead he presses his finger into your wet cunt and you moan hoarsely.

"You're so wet, you're just going to start dripping because I'm going to plug your other hole," his voice is an octave lower and you push your ass harder towards him so he pushes a second finger inside you.

His second finger slides effortlessly inside you and you whimper his name.

You remember very clearly how it felt the first time Rick fucked you. 

It was messy and wild. 

Completely driven by desire as you narrowly escaped a herd.

Even now you know how the bark of the tree he pressed you against felt on your back. 

It was so incredibly rough and now Rick strokes his palm over that very spot, pulling his fingers out of your wet pussy to let them slide to his real target.

At first you are far too distracted by the loss of his fingers in your quivering cunt that you barely have time to tense up again when he is already pressing his wet finger into you with gentle pressure.

You tear your eyes open and want to sit up out of reflex. 

It feels so incredibly unfamiliar and strange, but immediately he grabs your neck and presses your face back into the pillows, "Stay down. Just trust me and if you don't want to anymore, tell me, okay?"

A soft cry is your agreement and you squint your eyes.

Even though it's so unfamiliar, it feels damn good and you start to relax, making Rick growl hoarsely, "Such a pretty girl. Taking my finger so well."

Moaning, you press up against him and he has to pull himself together to keep his rock hard cock from pulling out and fucking your ass immediately.

He can literally feel how excited and scared you are and fuck maybe it's wrong that this turns him on.

Your pussy twitches with every thrust of his finger and he does not even know where to look.

Your ass, which rises high or your cunt, which shines wet and the juice that runs from you down your thighs, or yet your gorgeous face that is already red with excitement.

He takes a deep breath before he pulls himself together, "Are you all right, darling?"

"Yes, Rick," your voice is so soft that his cock immediately twitches again and he moans, "Second finger?"

You nod, and he does it.

The stretch is stronger this time and you wince. 

Normally you would have lube, but today your juices between your legs will have to do.

You reach for the sheets beneath you and whimper, "Rick...I..." Your voice fails and he grunts as your little body trembles again. Fuck are you hot.

With circular motions, he continues to work his way until you're kneeling before him, whimpering with arousal.

"Is it okay, darling?"

You can barely think straight and gasp, "I'm fine."

"Hmhm," he releases his hand from your neck and reaches for his pants to pull out his thick cock and you murmur quietly, "Rick, you're big, I don't...you know."

You're not wrong. 

He's actually not badly hung, and your pussy is almost too tight to squeeze inside you at times. 

But he wants it so much that he growls, "I’ll make it fit."

His cock twitches expectantly as he spits and rubs his hand over his cock before positioning himself in front of your entrance and putting a hand on your hip so you can't slide away from him.

You bite down hard on your bottom lip as he pushes the tip of his cock into you, stretching you like you could never have imagined.

It hurts. 

Not very much, but you notice him slowly but steadily fighting resistance to be inside you, and when you hear his panting breath, you have to groan yourself.

Rick always struggles with his self-control when he's fucking you, but the sounds he's making right now as he sinks his cock completely inside you and his balls bump against your swollen cunt is the best thing you've ever heard.

His body falls forward and he just barely catches himself with his hands before he could bury you under him, "Darling..." His voice breaks and your pussy clenches.

Oh god, the feeling of having him inside you like this is intense and pleases you. Maybe even more than is good for you.

Rick doesn't move an inch and brings out, "You good?" in a clenched voice, and you gasp, "Move."

Heavily, he straightens back up and puts an arm around you again to play with your pussy as he moves as slowly as he can inside you.

The thrusts aren't necessarily, what makes you moan so much, but the twitching and squirming of Rick's cock in your ass.

He can feel you getting looser around him, rubbing against him to get more.

"That's my good girl. Give me what I want and don't complain," a jolt goes through your body and Rick pinches your clit.

Your pussy and ass are on fire and you howl pitifully, "More."

His free hand slides back to your neck, where he grabs you tightly and thrusts harder into your little body. 

Harder than he should dare, but you just moan comfortably and he's so brave and slides his fingers into your pussy too, "Guess I'll fill both holes after all, huh?"

Pathetically you nod and clench around his fingers, which makes his cock twitch and he knows you're close to cumming.

Hectically rubbing your puffy clit, he growls, "Come on, darling. Come with both holes full of me."

His rough and bossy words, make you cry out and push your ass hard against him one last time. 

So hard that his balls slap against your throbbing pussy and you spasm so hard that Rick's grip on your neck becomes almost unbearable and he collapses over your back as he grunts and whimpers, yes whimpers, as he cums inside you.

For quite a while it just stays silent and all you can hear is your heavy and rapid breathing.

Only when Rick carefully pulls out of you do you dare to open your eyes and look straight into his face as he rolls next to you.

Deep satisfaction decorates his face and you bite your lower lip, "Did you like it?"

Grinning, he pulls your weak body against his chest, "Darling, you're amazing."

You blush and bury your face in his chest, "Stop it."

"I'm serious. Not just about the sex. You're the best thing that could ever happen to me," Rick kisses the top of your head, "I love you."

Your body already hurts and you know tomorrow will definitely not be a walk in the park, but you giggle against his chest anyway, "I love you too Rick and we can do this more often."

"I knew you'd like it," his voice is teasing and you close your eyes with a grin. 

He knows you.

@hail-yourselves   @bean-is-reading   @chanlvr2   @criminalwalkingsupernatural   @sunshinevirus   @toxic-ink    @kingtwhiddleston    @bloodycherry22    @vane28282    @bamslover    @revesephemeres    @emo-potato-virgil    @mrsashleybarnes18-blog  @starsaroundmyscxrss  @starkstiless  @easystreet07 @darylsonlylove @your-shifting-gurl @strnqer

[lieutnt]

Not to be the odd one out but you’re the only account that does trans character Nsfw 😭😭 ALL I GOT ON MY MIND IS FTM RUDY!!! I want him to sit on my face so bad and then see him get all embarrassed for the mess he’s made from eating him out. His soft features look even cuter with the way his face is so red and his eyes are so glossy, I’d probably wanna overstimulate him to hear him whine and beg as he gets even more flustered!! Idrc if he’s shaved down there bc regardless I’m gonna explore that jungle, but I feel like he’d probably keep it shaved like his face…he’s probably a more gentle lover but that’s what the foreplay is for, regardless Im worshiping that clit and cunt

Mess

Trans!Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra x Male Reader Summary: Rudy gets embarrassed by how much of a mess he makes when he sits on your face, you happily show him you don't care. Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only. Facesitting, oral (r giving).

The headboard creaks and groans with each movement as he rests his arms one on top of the other on the wood, sweat-doused forehead pressed against the skin of his arms, sticking uncomfortably as he rolls his hips against your mouth, your tongue practically torturing his poor pussy as oversensitivity trembles through his body, the muscles in his stomach beginning to cramp with how long he’s been moving on top of you.

With just a few more strikes of your tongue he’s crumbling, another mind-breaking orgasm rippling through his body as a fresh wave of slick soaks your face, a pleasured moan erupting from the man above you as the orgasm forces his eyes shut, your tongue continuing its path through his folds until he’s panting above you, the pleasure quickly giving way to too much as his orgasm ceases, and with what little strength he has left he forces his legs up to move himself away from your face, resting on your upper chest until he can open his eyes again. 

You bite back your groan of disappointment of him moving out of the reach of your mouth, but it’s quickly replaced with amusement when you watch as he opens his eyes, glossy with tears. A twisted bout of pleasure settles in your gut when you feel his slick folds on your chest, your fingers skating across the tops of his thighs to bring him back to you.

As he blinks away the tears you see something else rapidly dawning on him as he looks at you for the first time in he doesn’t know how long, embarrassment sweeping across his face as he takes in your appearance; your hair twisted in all sort of directions from his fingers pulling it, how wild your eyes look after wrenching orgasm after orgasm from him, and the mortification of how utterly drenched the lower half of your face is - the skin shiny from him.

Rudy’s eyes go wide as you wolfishly grin, and you can’t help but taunt him. “What's the matter mi amor (my love)?”

He swallows thickly, mouth dry from the hoarse whimpers and moans you’ve pulled from him. “Tu cara (your face)...”

A blush creeps up further on his face when you hum in acknowledgement. “I know, such a mess.” Your fingers drift down on his thighs, already beginning to feel where slick coats his skin. “I didn’t realise your pretty cunt was so hungry for me.”

Rudy whines in the back of his throat, not used to such vulgarity. Normally, love making between you both was sensual, romantic, soft, but this was something different; ravenous, carnal, exhausting.

As you try to edge him back up towards your mouth he stops, begging for reprieve. “I don’t think I can go again, cariño (dear).” His thighs were throbbing, abs stinging with exertion, pussy tingling with sensitivity.

“Just one more mi vida (my life), you don’t know how good you taste.” Even with your jaw beginning to ache you would happily let him sit on your face all night, push through the pain as long as you could savour him.

Your honeyed words easily shatter his restraint, and this time he allows you to pull him back up, mumbling “One more.”

Once he’s above you your hands tighten on his hips, dragging him down to your lips as you suck his clit into your mouth, the bundle of nerves bursting alive as borderline pain/pleasure sears through his body. He cries your name as you grind him against your mouth, letting you do all the work as pleasure crackles up his spine, orgasm approaching like a tidal wave.

With the hot suction on his clit and the sensitivity from previous orgasms it takes no time for Rudy to reach his apex, thighs quaking around your head as his eyes close and spots appear behind his eyelids, your solid grip keeping him on your mouth as you tongue him through another orgasm, pace slowing while the pleasure fizzles.

He’s barely able to recover before your tongue is passing through his folds again, Rudy’s body trembling as he cries, “no más, no más (no more, no more),” but he makes no attempt to move away, a new wave of arousal coating your tongue.

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

PLEASE I NEED TO READ MORE OF YOUR HANMA HCS, FICS ANYTHING. YOUR WRITING IS SO GOOOOOOOD

Nonny, you're starting to make me blush!! I wrote a thing about Mikey saying "Itadakimasu" to his girl one night when he couldn't sleep. And I saw a post tonight about how Hanma would oh-so-definitely say that too. And my mind buzzed in and out for a while, and here we are. I hope you like my take on Hanma saying "Itadakimasu" to his girl <3.

I can't guarantee this is wholly proofed. If anything is too horrific, let me know.

Also, thank you to @mitsuyeaah for the brain candy idea for this. I know the account is archived, but here it is anyway: GRATITUDE.

Imagining Hanma going down on you and uttering the phrase "Itadakimasu". 

It would fucking literally make your brain blurp out. But in those few seconds before you saw the white light, you hear him say it in a deep and gravelly voice. Dragging out each syllable, not breaking eye contact. Sticking his tongue out like he's about to eat the fuck out of a triple scoop cone from Thrifty (for you youngin's, Rite Aid) and smirking a little bit, his lips curling into that devious/evil smile just before his face completely disappears between your thighs. 

Oh? Sorry, you thought ... you thought he was going to go down on you right now? Aw, you're so cute. No, baby. He's not. He's going to bite your thighs and lick them to ease the sting that his sharp, pearly white teeth left behind. And then he's going to graze his soft, hot lips against your skin and make sure to breathe just heavily enough on you until you're practically shaking with anticipation/impatience for him to touch you where you need him to touch you the absolute most. 

His breath would tickle along your hip bone. He would drag the tip of his tongue across the skin just above the waistband of your pretty panties, pulling the elastic down a bit with his long fingers, dipping them in a little. Just enough to get your attention - like he didn't have your un-fucking-divided attention as it was. Dragging his dull (but well maintained) nails over your stomach and waist, hard enough that you can feel it but there wouldn't be too many marks. No, the marks will be left by his mouth, on the softest part of your upper/inner thighs. 

By now, he's marked up both sides of your legs. You're a complete mess and he's laughing at how much you're whining about what an asshole he is being. Is teasing you for this long really necessary? But he loves it. He loves making you squirm and beg for his mouth. He loves watching your body writhe around under his touch, watching your chest rise and fall rapidly as you try to catch your breath. It's intoxicating to him, knowing that you want him that badly. 

So, he slides your panties off and tosses them somewhere across the room. And then he dives right in, spreading your lips apart. In the least noticeable way, he flicks his tongue over your clit. It's just a little, just enough to make you jump and moan out his name. He wants you to keep saying his name like that, so he starts licking you in earnest, swirling his tongue around and around your overly sensitive clit. It's driving you wild and you're digging your fingers into his hair, pushing his face further into you. Raising your hips, trying any trick in the book to get him to plant his face deeper into your needy cunt. 

And he just loves that. He loves when you get impatient and try to take control. It makes him want to take you right then and there. But he won't, not yet. He wants to make you cum on his tongue first. He wants to feel your thighs shake against his cheeks and hear your muffled cries of his name as you finally clench up around him.

Once you've finished and released his head from the confines of your quivering thighs, he crawls back up to you, pressing his lips against yours. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it's so fucking hot. You're still trembling from the aftershocks and you can feel his cock pressing into your purple-blotched thigh, hard and ready. 

The way he looks down at you is such a perfect mix of self-satisfiction and utter desperation. He is starting to feel the need to plunge himself into your wet pussy and chase after his own release. 

And as you're wits come back to you, you smile sweetly at him, planning just how much you're going to make him regret making you wait for so long.

Taglist ::: @kazutora-kurokawa @viburnt @arlerts-angel @darkstarlight82

[boxofbonesfic]

Title: Seek

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Divorcee! Reader

Summary: You are forced to share your hiding spot with one incorrigible cretin—Joel Miller. But, maybe that’s not so bad.

Word Count: 8,369

Warnings: 18+ Only, Fluff, Comedy, Shameless Smut, Breeding, Pre-Outbreak, Intoxication, Fluff, MINORS DNI!

A/N: a little peek at the night Joel and the Reader first got together. AKA that time Sarah played matchmaker with two grown adults. 😂 enjoy! divider is by @firefly-graphics​

“Hello, neighbor.” The low, sultry drawl, makes you swallow tightly. Oh God. You’re glad your hands are stuck wrist deep in the dirt, otherwise they’d be shaking. You take a few tries to school your features into what you hope is a casual smile, and not a grimace of abject panic as you glance over your shoulder at him. 

 “Hey, Joel.” Your ruggedly handsome neighbor leans against the fence, folding his thickly corded forearms over the pickets. You offer him the sincerest smile you can muster. God his fucking sleeves are rolled up—you fight the urge to ruin it by sinking your teeth into your lower lip. His eyes flick down, and then back up to your face. 

 “You doin’ some gardenin’?” You don’t know why, but the quirk of his lips makes your stomach knot.  

“Y-yeah. W-well, you know. I thought I’d get outside today, since it’s been raining so much.” You say, sticking the spade into the dirt as you turn to face him. You’re acutely aware of the mud on the hem of your yellow sundress now, and you know he must see it too. Goddammit. You feel like every time you talk to him you embarrass yourself—especially now. Nervously and out of habit, you touch your thumb to your ring finger through the gloves, feeling its absence. 

 Before, at least, you’d had Howard as a buffer, though Joel had never much seemed to like your husband. Ex-husband.

  “Mm, yeah. Hopin’ it stays nice, you know Sarah’s birthday’s on Saturday,” He says, tapping his fingers thoughtfully against the pickets. “Comin’ up fast.” 

 “Oh yeah,” you say, nodding with a smile. “I’ll have to bring something over. Wait—she doesn’t do dolls anymore, right? She’s too old for that now.” 

 “Dolls? Damn kid’s asking me for a phone,” Joel mutters darkly, smoothing a frustrated hand down his face. “A phone.” You can’t help but laugh. “Anyway, I wanted to, you know, let you know you’re invited. Whole neighborhood is, we’ll have games and food. The works.” 

 “Oh, sure!” You’re not sure why you’re nervous. It’s not a special invitation, it’s open to the entire block. Still, you feel an apprehensive sort of giddiness growing in your tight stomach when he smiles at you encouragingly. 

“I’d love to come, I’ll um, I’ll bake something.” You pass your tongue over your lips, and Joel’s eyes follow the movement,  lingering before his eyes dart back up to yours. Imagining things. You’re definitely imagining things. You’d have to be—you’re a thirty-something year old divorcee with little to show for it other than the fixer-upper Howard had been glad to leave you. You’re not hot-single-neighbor material. 

 “That’ll be great.” He fixes you with another boyish smile and you hate the way your stupid stomach tightens when he does. “Sarah loves your apple crumble.” You try to hide your bashful smile behind one of your gardening gloves. 

 “Joel Miller, you know better than to lie to me over my own fence,” you chide, and he chuckles. 

 “Yes ma’am I do,” he says, winking at you as the corners of his full lips turn up underneath the mustache. “That’s why I told the truth.” You cluck your tongue at him, and begin gathering your gardening tools into the wide wicker basket you keep them in. You heft them up with a grunt, and he shakes his head. 

“Looks heavy. Let me give you a hand.” Before you can protest, he’s jogging around to the spot where your fences meet, and slipping in through the open gate. 

 “I-I can handle it,” you protest meekly as he holds out one calloused hand, beckoning with his fingers. You step back a little defensively, hesitating. “I carried it all the way out here from the shed by myself.” Joel merely raises an eyebrow and lifts his hand a little higher.  

 “I know, Sugar. You’re a big girl, you can do it all by yourself,” he says in that filthy smooth baritone. “Doesn’t mean you have to.” Flustered, you let him have the basket, brushing hopelessly at your dress as you follow him to the backyard shed. 

 “Well, it’s just me, so,” you scurry forward to pull open the door, and you watch him place the basket on the dusty work table. You’re not much of a crafts person, beyond the occasional gardening DIY, so it’s gone mostly unused since Howard moved out. 

 “I’m real sorry about that, by the way,” Joel says, dusting his hands off on his jeans. The look of pity on his face makes you shift uncomfortably. “But I can’t exactly say that I’m sorry he’s gone.” You laugh. The sound is brittle. Like my marriage was.

 “Don’t be.” Joel’s fingers trail across Howard’s old work-bench, leaving lines in the dust as he inspects it. 

 “Oh, hey,” Joel says, leaning over. He reaches underneath bench and pulls something bright yellow out from underneath it. “Speak of the devil,” he mutters. After a confused second of squinting, you realize it’s a staple-gun. “Knew he never returned this.” Your face burns with embarrassment as you pinch the bridge of your nose. The result, no doubt, of one of Howards many unfinished DIY projects, the ones you always seemed to end up cleaning up and finding space for in the basement. 

 “God, he’s not even here and Howard’s still embarrassing me,” you say. “I’m sorry, I would have given it back if I’d known.” You watch Joel shake his head.

 “That’s not on you. Besides, I’ve got it back now, so. No harm, no foul.” He tucks it into the waistband of his jeans before stepping out of the little shed and closing the door behind him. He smiles at you again, and you swear the only thing keeping you from melting into a puddle of jelly is the force of your will alone. 

“You let me know if there’s anything around the house that needs doing. You cleaned your gutters since Howard left?” He asks, and your face burns again as you hurriedly shake your head. 

 “N-no,” you admit. “But you really—I don’t want to put you to the trouble, Joel.”

 “S’no trouble.” He says with a wink, heading for the back gate. “I’ll be by tomorrow. You’ve got a ladder, don’t you, Sugar?”

 —

 You’re in your pajamas when Joel shows up, bright and early. The sound of the doorbell jolts you up from the kitchen table, where you’d positioned yourself so that you could see the television through the doorway. Watching the morning news rather mindlessly while you had your coffee was your new morning routine, and though it felt a little lonely and empty, it was certainly better than screaming matches with Howard about how inadequate of a wife you were to him, so you relished it. 

 You realize belatedly that the tie for your robe is upstairs as you’re fumbling with the locks, pulling open the door with an exasperated Hello before you realize exactly who’s on the other side of your front door. 

 “Howdy, neighbor.” That southern twang—the one you don’t have—is like syrup, each syllable running smoothly into the next as it slides pleasurably into your ears. You’re sure the heat rising in your chest and neck is due to your own embarrassment as you unsuccessfully try to tug the flaps of your robe shut with one hand. It’s definitely not because Joel is looking at me funny. 

 “J-Joel, I—morning,” you say, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ears self consciously as you offer him an apologetic smile. “I didn’t, um. I didn’t know you’d be over so early. I thought you, um. Liked to get a, a late start in the mornings.” 

 “That’s true,” he says, nodding as he tucks his thumbs into his belt loops. “But I can get up for the important things.” He rocks forward on to the balls of his feet, the leather on his boots creaking. “So, Sugar, where’s that ladder?” You feel warm when he looks at you, so warm you’re surprised steam isn’t whistling out of your ears like a kettle. 

 “In the, um, in the shed.” You turn to head back into the house, but stop. “Do you need me to—” He meets the glance you shoot him over your shoulder with a stern lift of his brow. 

 “I got it. You go on and enjoy your coffee, now.” Joel tips his head at you, and then reaches forward to pat you just above your hip. “Go on. Scoot.” 

 The screen door swings shut behind you as you turn smartly to do as you’re told, and it’s only when you’re two steps into the kitchen that you realize your hip is still warm from where he touched you. You shiver. 

 Joel’s just friendly.

 You repeat that back to yourself dozens of times as you shower, dress, and ready yourself for the day. It’s embarrassing, but you don’t have much to do now that you don’t have Howard to pick up after. Stay-at-home-wife was just another word for nanny to him, and now, five years into your marriage and ten months post divorce, you’re still struggling to find a way to fill your time. You can live off the alimony, sure, but you want something more meaningful to do, even if it doesn’t pay much. 

 Joel is still up on the roof by the time you come back downstairs, but you aren’t down there long before you hear him tapping at the kitchen window. You unlock the back door, and the sight of Joel leaned up against your doorframe greets you when you open it. He’s busy toeing off his muddy workboots, but he glances up at you with a lopsided smile. 

 “Mind if I clean off? I’ve got to head to the site after this.” 

 “Totally, sure, um, you remember where the bathroom is?” You ask, and he nods. 

 “Down the hall to the right, innit?” He asks over his shoulder, and you nod. His arms and cheek are splattered with the same muck that you assume has been clogging your gutters, and you feel even guiltier knowing he has to head to his actual job after this. Where are my manners? You ask yourself guiltily, hurrying to fetch a glass from the cabinet. You don’t have any food you can offer him, but you go for the peach iced tea in the fridge and pour him a tall glass. He’d come over and done hard work for you, and you hadn’t even offered him something to drink. 

 Shameful, your grandmother’s shrill voice hisses at you through your memories. Just shameful. No wonder you couldn’t keep a man. With your teeth set into your bottom lip, you head for the hallway, intending to head Joel off before he gets to the front door. 

 You aren’t expecting to crash headlong into him.

 “Shit!” You curse as cold tea splashes against your chest and the glass in your fingers tumbles to the rug. “I’m so sorry—I didn’t get you, did I?” You look guiltily up at Joel and your heart seizes in your chest. He’s shirtless in your hallway, his face and chest damp and his t-shirt balled up in one fist. Logically, you know it’s because he obviously can’t go to work covered in gutter-crap, but you can’t think about that now, not when you’re following the happy trail starting at his belly button all the way down the waistband of his pants and God fucking dammit I’m staring like a creep—

 “No, Sugar. All dry,” he laughs, interrupting the rambling chain of your thoughts. “Can’t say the same for you.” He gestures down at your shirt before shrugging into his own. “Was that sweet tea?” Joel asks, a mournful note in his voice. 

 “Yes—let me get you another glass,” you say quickly, bending over to pick up the fallen glass before you rush back into the kitchen. Clumsy, stupid—you put it carefully in the sink before fetching a fresh cup from the cabinet, and you fill that one too. “Joel, I—oh.” You turn to call him into the kitchen, only to find him right behind you. His smile is slow syrup the way his voice is, and you find yourself feeling like a knock-kneed teenager at the sight of it. 

 “That for me?” Joel asks, and you nod wordlessly, unable to form words around the hot lump of embarrassment that forms in your throat. “Thank you, Sugar,” he purrs, plucking the glass from your limp fingers. “I was powerful thirsty.” He tips his head back, and you watch his Adam’s apple bob beneath the scruff of his beard as he swallows. 

You’re grateful for the refrigerator against your back, because you know you’d slide right down to your tasteful linoleum tiles in a heap without it when he lets out a satisfied moan. He swipes the back of his hand across his mouth, and then chases the stray droplets with his tongue. 

 “Should bring a whole pitcher of that by the house when you come by on Saturday. Folks’ll go crazy for it.” 

 Your brain is still short circuiting from his closeness, the smell of his cologne,       the sight of his tanned, perfect chest—so you just nod dumbly, your lips slightly parted as you stare. Closing mouth in three, two, one—

 “Uh, um. Yeah. Tea.” Jesus fuck, why is my mouth so dry? You stumble over the words, feeling like there are a hundred glass marbles in your mouth as you try to pronounce them properly. “So, um. Saturday?”

 “Saturday.” Joel hands you back the glass, and winks. “Don’t drop it this time.” He pauses in the doorway, tapping his hand against the frame a few times. “And you’ll let me know when I can come by to cut that grass, wontcha, Sugar? Needs mowin’.” 

 I absolutely will not. “Sure thing. I-I mean, you don’t have to, really—”

 “Just bein’ neighborly is all,” he calls over his shoulder as the screen door swings shut behind him. You watch the top of his head go by the kitchen window before you slump against the refrigerator. 

 “Neighborly.” You mutter in disbelief, pinching the bridge of your nose. You make your way back upstairs to change your shirt—the tea is starting to get sticky against your skin. 

 —

 By the time Saturday rolls around, you’ve almost talked yourself completely out of attending. 

 You should not be this nervous about am eleven year old’s birthday party, you chastise yourself, shifting from foot to foot as you wait for someone to answer the door. There’s music coming from the backyard, and you can smell food, and the charcoal from the grill. You step back a little as the door opens, and you’re both surprised and relieved to see it isn’t Joel. And you’re glad for it, considering you’ve been studiously avoiding him. 

 Sarah greets you with a friendly smile, waving you inside. “Mrs. Leeman, hi!” She closes the door behind you. “Thank you for coming! You didn’t have to do that,” she says, gesturing at the covered apple crumble and sealed jug of peach tea in your hands. Sarah moves to take one from you, and you hand over the jug gratefully. “But this is way better than the cake uncle Tommy got. He went to Penny Saver.” 

 You laugh. “You’re welcome. I wasn’t exactly sure what to get you,” you admit, “but your dad said you’ve been wanting a phone?” You ask, and she rolls her eyes, starting towards the kitchen. You’ve only been here once or twice, to use the bathroom the few times Howard had deigned to take part in any neighborhood festivities. She sets the jug on the table. 

 “Ugh, yeah. But he says I’m too young.” 

 You lean in conspiratorially. “Well, how about I join team get Sarah a phone and try to help convince him, huh?” Carefully, you place the crumble on the table. “I’ll pay for your first month.” 

 Sarah’s eyes brighten. “Really? Yeah, oh my God that might actually work! Thanks, um, Mrs. Leeman. And for the crumble too, I asked special.” 

 “Just ‘Ms’, now,” you say with a little laugh. Sarah’s smile widens a little, turning up at the corners like she knows something you don’t know. And it isn’t Leeman anymore, either.  

 “Oh, right. I’m sorry,” she says, and you can tell she’s really trying to pour on the sincerity. She’s good—but she’s not that good. “I forgot you’re single now.” You quirk an eyebrow.

 “Yeah?” You answer slowly. “Kind of a weird way to put it, but yes?” You chalk it up to teenage awkwardness, watching amusedly as Sarah plucks the candles out of the admittedly generic cake Tommy bought, and presses them into the crumble instead. 

 “Everybody’s outside,” she chirps, wiping her hands off on her jeans. “Uncle Tommy, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, my dad,” she adds. “You should totally go say hi.” Casting another suspicious glance at Sarah, you make your way over to the back door. Once your eyes adjust to the bright summer sun, you see that Joel’s backyard is chaos; every kid in the neighborhood is there, along with most of the families in your corner of the cul-de-sac.

 You pretend you don’t immediately spot Joel on the grill, his sleeves rolled up as he chats with his brother. You’ve only met Tommy once or twice and only in passing, but you remember him just fine. Your eyes meet, and he leans over, elbowing Joel. He says something too, but you’re too far away to hear it. Joel begins to turn around, and you hurriedly busy yourself at the punch bowl. 

 God, this is pathetic. You berate yourself as you spoon out punch into a little paper cup. Just say hi, you stupid idiot. You feel stupid and giddy around Joel, like a middle-schooler with her first crush only worse, because you’re two decades past the expiration date on this behavior. Not to mention he’s your neighbor. 

And God knows you aren’t the best at reading signals—it had taken you years to realize that your marriage, your relationship, was dead in the water. Joel isn’t interested, he can’t be. At most, you assume he feels a sort of half hearted pity for you. I’m like the one-eyed cat at the shelter.

 “Hey there Judy, thanks for comin’.” You hear Joel’s voice behind you, and you tense—He’s coming this way. You chance a glance over your shoulder and swallow audibly. He’s making a beeline right for you. Is it too late to go back inside? You know the thought is futile, it’s most certainly far too late for that. 

 “Hi, I mean, you know, welcome to the party,” he says, putting his hands in his pockets after an awkward moment of holding them out, almost like he was going to hug you and then thought better of it. 

 “Yeah, Sarah was…enthusiastic about the cake.” You’re trying to think of a word to describe her weird behavior. “Maybe a little too much,” you laugh a little. Joel shakes his head and mutters something under his breath you can’t quite make out—“damn kid sticking her nose in where it doesn’t—” Before he shakes his head, rubbing the back of his neck. 

 “Kid’s a mystery to me sometimes,” he replies with a huff. He squints, like he’s looking for her in the crowd. You follow his line of sight right to Sarah, laughing with her friends. 

 “She’s a good one.”

 “Lord knows,” Joel sighs. “I was raising hell at her age.” He turns back to you. “I’m really glad you could make it.” His smile is so bright you’re forced to look somewhere else, for fear of going weak in the knees. 

 “N-no problem. I’m, um, I’m happy to get out of the house,” you admit. “I’ve been kind of… I don’t know. Bored? Since Howard left.” You look down at the punch cup in your hands. “Is that weird? I don’t miss him or anything, I just… I guess I never realized how much time he was taking. Wasting.” You shake your head. “Sorry, I shouldn’t—”

 “No, no, please,” Joel looks at you almost imploringly. “I don’t mind.” He leans against the table behind you. “I’ve been there. Losing yourself is surprisingly easy. It’s the finding yourself after that’s hard.” 

 “Yeah,” you nod. “Yeah, exactly.” 

 “Listen I—”

 “Joel, you wanna serve burnt burgers or what?” Tommy calls from the grill, pointing at the thick smoke curling up from it. Joel curses.

 “Dammit, Tommy—I’ll be right back.” 

 He’s surprisingly easy to talk to, and you swallow back the unexpected disappointment at the interruption. It’s probably a good thing though, you think to yourself as you spy Tricia Gibbins, also newly divorced, eyeing you with a scowl. 

 You offer her a weak smile in response, before turning back to your drink. Joel’s a hot commodity, and you know you’re not the only single woman in the neighborhood with eyes. Joel has an easy sort of confidence about him, the kind that comes from working with your hands and being good at it. The kind that isn’t unearned. 

 As Joel averts the crisis at the grill, you mingle. Chatting up the neighbors you haven’t really seen since the divorce. It’s awkward at first, but you get over that quickly enough. It’s oddly comforting, feeling like you’re part of the community at large again, instead of the weird shut-in with the mean husband. Oddly, Joel keeps finding reasons to be close to you, joining in the conversations you’re having as he sidles up next to you, offering to refresh your drink each time you finish it. And when he brings out the crumble from the kitchen—much to Tommy’s chagrin—he thanks you specifically for providing it, and your cheeks heat as you duck your head, embarrassedly enduring the round of applause that follows. 

 If Gibbins didn’t hate me already, she definitely does now.

 You help cut and serve it, trying to ensure each partygoer at least has the option of having a piece. As Sarah wolfs down her piece after blowing out her candles, she and her friends share a conspiratorial look. 

 “We were thinking of playing a party game, dad,” she says, cocking her head at him. “Kids versus grown-ups.” Joel takes a sip of his beer, cocking his head skeptically. 

 “And what game would that be, young lady?”

 “Manhunt! Come on, dad, please? Everyone really wants to play!” Sarah gestures eagerly at the gaggle of kids behind her, pushing and shoving and giggling nervously as the adults look them over. Sarah rocks excitedly back and forth on her tip-toes as her father debates it. Sarah looks at you imploringly. 

“Please? Last game of the night, I promise! You’ll play, won’t you?” 

 “Ah hell,” Tommy curses, finishing his beer before slinging the empty bottle into the trash-can by the picnic table. “Why not? Used to play this all the time growin’ up.” He casts a nostalgic look at Joel before elbowing Sarah conspiratorially. “Every summer I used to whoop your daddy’s—”

 “No lying to the girl on her birthday, Tommy,” Joel replies with a chuckle, and you laugh too. “Fine then. Who all’s playin’?” Hands go up, all across the yard, and Joel nods as he takes stock of them. Howard would have insisted on leaving right about now, your charitable appearance over and done with. But Howard isn’t here to make the decision for you, and you find yourself raising your own hand, too. Perhaps it’s the warm buzz of the beer settling into your stomach making you foolish, but it’s a warm summer evening and you feel… good. 

 “Ground rules—nobody leaves the block, understand? No hidin’ in strangers yards.” Joel delivers the rules sternly. “

 “We were thinking… we’ll seek. Time limit?” Sarah asks, suddenly all business as she leans back to consult her friends, now apparently her war-council. 

 “Thirty minutes.” Joel replies, holding out his hand. Sarah shakes it exaggeratedly, grinning at him. She holds up two fingers, gesturing between the two of them. “And you’ve got to find everybody to win.” 

 “Yeah, yeah, old man,” She calls over her shoulder as she jogs toward her friends. “You’re going down!” They’re all clustered around the side of the house, some of them already counting. You’re already thinking of the perfect hiding place, where the rosebushes meet on the left side of your porch—it’s impossible to see from the sidewalk. The participating adults are already splitting up, heading in different directions to try and outlast their children. 

 Giggling, you hurry back across the street, casting a suspicious glance around before you duck down behind your rosebushes. It’s silly, you know, but… it feels good too. Like you’re actually enjoying yourself instead of pretending to. Howard never would have approved of this—These are children’s games, come on—but he isn’t here, and you don’t need him to. The thought makes you practically giddy; Howard is gone, gone! 

 And he isn’t coming back.

 You lean back against the porch, ducking lower as you hear the sound of approaching voices. As you reach back to steady yourself, your hand brushes against another. You gasp, loudly, and whirl around to see Joel, looking equally surprised. It looks like he’s come around from the opposite side of the house, staying low underneath the roses, just like you. You open your mouth to speak, but he holds up a finger, pointing behind you. 

 ��I heard something! I think one of the grown-ups is hiding over here.” You wait with baited breath to be discovered, but the gangly teenager on the other side of the bush doesn’t come all the way up the porch steps, stopping halfway. 

“Whatever, I don’t see anybody. Let’s look by the Simmons’ place!”

 The sound of your gravel crunching under sneakers gradually recedes, and you let out a heavy sigh of relief. 

 “Sorry. I didn’t know you were there,” you whisper apologetically, and Joel laughs. 

 “Well you know. Great minds, and all that.” He scoots closer. “Do you mind? I can risk finding another spot if you do.” 

 “No, no,” you say, shaking your head. Maybe it’s the beers, making you foolishly confident, but you… want him to stay. “There’s room enough for the two of us.” 

 “You’re damn right there is,” Joel replies. “Grass is tall enough that we could stand in it.” You pretend to be shocked, raising a cartoonishly offended hand over your heart. 

 “Oh, is that how it is, Miller?” You ask. “You come over here, barge into my hiding spot, and then insult my grass? I’m pretty sure them’s fighting words, around here at least.” He edges closer, close enough that when he settles down into a sitting position, his thigh presses against yours. 

 “It’s almost calf high, Sugar,” he says seriously. “That’s dangerous.” You try to look sufficiently scared, and Joel smothers a laugh behind one hand. 

 “Danger? Here?” You bring a hand to your cheek. “How dangerous are we talking?” He fixes you with a serious look, brows knitting together as he presses his full lips into a tight line. 

 “Very dangerous. Trip and falls, termites, biting ants—you know. Just to name a few things.” Joel is handsome, not a fact you’re unfamiliar with. But up this close… You can see the beginnings of salt and in his thick black hair, how his warm brown eyes are flecked with gold and green, the cinnamon spice of his breath—Fireball, he was drinking Fireball—

 And how soft his lips are when they brush against yours. 

 You’re not sure how long it takes you to realize that you’re kissing Joel Miller. Later, when you look back, you’ll realize there’s a gap in your memory, a skip, a blank space spanning from the moment his hip pressed against yours until you feel the warmth of his hand on your hip through your jeans. It’s a chaste thing, a simple press of his mouth to yours, but the realization of what’s happening makes you gasp, pulling away. For once, you’re speechless, the nervous ramble that usually accompanies these moments is notoriously absent. 

 Of course it’s Joel that speaks first. 

 “I been waitin’ to do that for six months.” He breathes. And then he leans forward, gently brushes a stray lock of hair from your face, and does it again. You release your death-grip on the latticework beneath the porch, and instead tangle your fingers in Joel’s t-shirt. He mumbles something against your lips that you don’t understand before deepening the kiss, sweeping his tongue into your mouth as you sigh against him. Joel tastes like cinnamon whiskey, hops, and faintly of tobacco—likely from the cigarette you’d seen him bum from Tommy in secret earlier. 

 He tastes so good you could cry. Like beer and warm summer evenings, like catching lightning bugs in jars. He tastes exactly like you thought he would. 

 When you part, you’re both panting, staring wild-eyed at one another as the rest of the world filters back in. Joel lets out a little laugh, resting his forehead against yours. You like how he smells, too, sandalwood and leather. 

 “Six months is a long time,” you say after a minute, and he laughs. Somehow, you feel both validated and incredibly stupid at the same time. “And here I thought you felt sorry for me.”

 “I did, being married to that prick,” he scoffs. “I hung over that fence every other day for six months, and you never thought—?”

 “No! I thought, you know, you… really wanted to mow my grass.” You answer defeatedly, and this time Joel’s booms in your ears so loud you fear the children will discover you. You laugh too, and when he pulls you close to kiss you a third time, you lean into it, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders as he pulls you practically into his lap. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you card fingers through his thick hair. You’re glad you’re sitting down, because the answering husky moan he releases would have brought you to your knees. 

 “Dad! Thirty-minutes!” The sound of Sarah’s voice shocks the two of you apart, and you scramble off of Joel, your cheeks burning. You peek through the rose bushes, pulling aside a bud to see Sarah, standing in the middle of the street. You snicker at the sight of her. She and her friends seem to have already rounded up the other adults, and, armed with water-guns, are escorting them back to the party. You can see that Tommy’s wet, and you wonder if he tried to outrun them. 

 “Time’s up,” she calls. “You guys win!” 

 “You stay here. I’ll go first.” Joel says with a wink. “I’ll see you back at the party, okay? And we’ll finish this… discussion.” He licks his lips. 

 You nod, not trusting your voice not to give out on you. You watch as Joel gets a very rules-illegal squirting with Sarah’s supersoaker, and you’re glad he took the bullet for both of you as they head into the backyard. Once you’re sure no one else is really watching, you creep out, brushing stray bits of grass and twigs from your clothes. Your face still feels warm, your lips tingling where Joel’s had met them. 

 There isn’t much “party” left when you let yourself in through the side gate, people cleaning up with trash bags. You begin helping, clearing the tables of plastic cutlery and paper plates. There isn’t really time to talk, not really. Every time he begins to, something, someone, needs his attention. As you’re tossing bags into the trash bin, Tommy comes up behind you with another load. You hold the lid open for him, and he ducks his head gratefully. 

 “Thanks. So, you and my brother, huh? Manhunt neighborhood champs.” He grins at you, and you feel your face heat. 

 “In my defense, it was my hiding spot first.” 

 “That tracks.” He laughs. ”And I’m not mad, even though you dethroned my cake.” 

 You grin. “Sorry. I was asked.” It’s easy to see that Tommy and Joel are related, you think as you chat. They have the same easy way of moving, the same slow drawl. You think of the way his lips felt against yours again and your face warms. It had felt so right to do in that moment, but now you can’t help but wonder if it had been a mistake. 

 “He’s droppin’ Sarah off at her friend’s place,” Tommy says suddenly. “In  case you were wonderin’.” His knowing look makes you wish the earth would open right up and swallow you into the resulting abyss. It doesn’t though, and you are forced to shoot Tommy a painfully embarrassed smile instead. 

 “I, um. Thanks.” You tuck your hands into your pockets to stop their nervous twitching. Somehow, this feels like a higher-stakes interaction than any of the others you’ve ever had with Tommy, and you aren’t sure why. 

 “No problem.” Tommy dusts his hands off of his jeans. “And he’s… Stupid. My brother. But he means well.” 

 “I think that makes two of us.” 

 You finish helping clean up, hanging around the yard awkwardly until Tommy asks you if you want to wait inside. You shake your head. Joel’s probably realized his mistake by now, you think to yourself, shaking your head as you make your way back across the street. Keys in hand, you head up the steps and unlock the door. As it swings open, the blast of a car-horn makes you yelp, jumping as you press yourself against the doorframe. 

 Joels truck swings haphazardly into your driveway, and he’s half out of it before it even stops. He hops the little gate in front of your porch steps, taking them two at a time as he strides towards you with purpose. 

 “Sugar.” 

 “Joel, I—” There are a thousand thoughts, all jumping to reach your mouth first. You want to kiss him again, you want to run inside and hide until he leaves, you really want to kiss him again—

 “I thought I told you to wait for me,” Joel says lowly, his fingers sliding through the belt loops on your jeans to tug you close against his chest. “Weren’t finished talkin’.” His mouth is against yours before you can answer, and he gratefully swallows your gasp of surprise as his tongue presses insistently at the seam of your lips. You are aware, on some level, that you’re standing on your porch, in full view of every watchful eye on your end of the street. However, your concern for your reputation is kept well in check by the feel of Joel’s hands passing hungrily over your hips.

 His fingers skate up underneath the hem of your t-shirt, and you gasp at the feel of them trailing up your sides and over your belly. 

 “I-inside,” you say, the word muffled by his lips. You feel the corners of his mouth curl up against your cheek as Joel loops his arms underneath your thighs. You gasp as he hoists you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you inside. Joel kicks the door shut behind him before pressing you against the wall, fitting the hard planes of his body against the softness of yours. He fits so well in between your thighs, his jean-clad hips slotting against you perfectly. 

 You want to be ashamed at the way your hips roll into his, your heels digging into the backs of his thighs. His hand fists in your hair, tugging your head back so that he can trail his teeth and tongue down the side of your throat.  

 “Fuck,” he mutters, teeth catching at the shell of your ear as one hand cups your swollen cunt through your jeans. You feel like you’re on fire, heat running underneath your skin, sparking where Joel touches you. Your head is swimming, like you’re drunk on more than just a couple of beers. Your fingers tangle in the short hair at the nape of his neck, and the throaty moan Joel releases makes your pussy clench down hard around nothing. 

 You drop your feet to the floor as his fingers play at the button of your jeans. He’s breathing heavy, hair askew from your attentions and eyes hungry. 

 “We can stop if you want to,” he says, his voice strained and husky. “You say stop, we stop.” You can tell he wants to do anything but stop, his thigh wedged between yours, and the half hard weight of his cock throbbing against you through his jeans. But you can also see he means it, that he’ll turn around and walk right back to his truck if you tell him to. 

 You hesitate, feeling Joel’s steady breaths against your lips as he waits for your decision. This is crazy, you reason. We’ll both regret this, and it’ll be awkward and we’ll never be able to talk to each other again—But what’s crazier is that you know you want him to stay. That you’re willing to risk it. 

 Maybe you’ll just be crazy for tonight. 

 “Stay.” 

 Joel surges, crashing over you like a wave. His hands—God, his hands—are everywhere, tugging up the rumpled hem of your t-shirt to cup your breasts through your bra, wiggling down under the waistband of your jeans to touch whatever skin he can—

 “Y’know, Sugar,” Joel’s voice is simmering honey, is burnt sugar—“I don’t think we’re gonna make it upstairs.” You don’t think so either, not with his eager fingers tugging open the button on your jeans. Not to mention that you’re pretty sure that if he stops touching you, you might actually die. You’ve never felt this before, the all encompassing need that drives you to grind down against his proffered thigh, your hands fisting in his shirt. 

 Definitely not making it to the bed. He kisses you again, sucking on your tongue as you feverishly work at the buttons on his shirt. You push them apart to touch his bare skin and he hums with pleasure. 

 He grunts frustratedly when there isn’t enough room for his huge hands in your tight jeans, tugging at them until they stick fast about halfway down your thighs. He anchors his hands underneath your hips, and you gasp as he hoists you up, taking a few wobbly steps towards the stairs.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      ��                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    

 He only makes it up three of them before he abandons the effort, setting you down. You let out a little giggle as your ass makes contact with the wood, and  Joel sucks his teeth. 

 “Goddamn house. S’got too many stairs,” he mumbles against the side of your throat. The raspy burn of his beard against your skin is delicious as he trails kisses down your neck until he meets the collar of your shirt. “Take this fuckin’ thing off, Sugar.” Joel’s teeth tug at the fabric. He chuckles lowly when your breath catches. “Or d’you want me to do it for you?” You hurriedly tug your shirt up over your head—with Joel’s eager assistance—and his mouth crashes against yours as before it’s even cleared your hair.

 Joel’s cinnamon and whiskey spiced kisses leave heat in their wake as he presses them between your breasts, pulling down the cups of your bra. He releases a pleased hum when your puffy nipples spill lewdly over the lace. The way he grins at the sight of them makes you want to combust, heat creeping up your chest and neck as he pinches them softly between his fingers. You whine, and he clucks his tongue at you, fixing you with a serious look. 

 “Don’t you rush me, Sugar,” he says, flicking his thumb against your nipple, and he grins when you wriggle. “Haven’t I been patient?” You’re hard pressed to disagree. His heavy lidded eyes go even darker as he laves his tongue across your nipple, and you whimper pathetically when he rolls it between his teeth. 

 “Yeah,” you pant as Joel taps his very patient fingers against the fleshy curve of your hip. You lift for him, and he hums with approval as he tugs them down your legs and flings them to the floor. “Practically a saint—ah, Joel!” Joel cups your pussy, clapping his hand against the fatty curve of it with a groan. 

 “If I were a saint, Sugar,” he drawls, pulling your panties tight until the puffy lips of your cunt pop out lewdly around them, “You know I’d never miss a day at this fuckin’ church.” He traces the shape of your swollen clit through the fabric with the rough pad of his thumb. “A-fuckin’-men.” The elastic band snaps against your skin as he pulls them off completely, your panties joining your jeans in an undignified heap at the bottom of the stairs. 

 Joel delivers a stinging little slap to your thigh that makes you yelp. 

 “Open.” You do, your cheeks burning as you spread your legs apart and let him see. He cards his fingers through his hair as a low “fuck” falls from his lips. He drags a thick, calloused finger up your slit, swirling the tip through your sopping folds. “Christ, Sugar,” he says, holding up his fingers so that you can see your own slick shining on them. You can’t look away as he lowers his head, his breath puffing across your heated skin. It’s only when he drags his tongue up your slit that your head falls back, and you curse at the ceiling. 

 “S’right,” he mumbles against your cunt, wrenching your legs further open. “Fuck, you taste good, baby.” Your fingers tangle in his hair, and you feel him chuckle against you before his tongue finds your clit and you loose a stream of curses and his name—

 “Fuck, fuck fuck, fuck, Joel—”

 “Say it, Sugar,” his beard rasps deliciously against your inner thighs. “Let ‘em hear my fuckin’ name.” 

 It’s impossible to think. You’re fairly certain the amount of electricity currently thrumming through you would be enough to light up a whole goddamn city. Your thighs tremble in his grip and you can’t stop the shameful push of your hips against his face. And then you’re cumming with a pitiful little whine, tears gathering in the corners of your wide eyes. Joel pulls away from you slowly, wiping at his glistening mouth with the back of his hand as he looks at you with dark, lidded eyes. 

 “Don’t cry yet, Sugar,” he rasps. You can’t help but stare as he looses the buttons on his jeans with nimble fingers. The heavy weight of his cock pushes insistently against the plaid fabric of his briefs before he hooks his thumb under the elastic and tugs it down too. “Oughta wait till the good part, at least.” 

 Oh my fucking God. 

 Joel Miller’s cock is thick. Like a fucking coke-can with veins. He palms it with one hand, and your traitorous cunt clenches wetly as you stare. The head is red, angry and leaking, and you find yourself with the sudden urge to swipe your tongue across it and see how he tastes. You can’t stop your eyes from following the movement as he strokes himself slowly, a low chuckle vibrating in his chest. 

 “Want a taste, Sugar?” He purrs, the accent dripping down every vowel. You don’t have enough working neurons left to lie, and so you nod meekly, licking your lips. “Say aah for me, baby.” You open your mouth wide, sticking out your tongue a little and he groans, balancing one hand on the bannister and the other against the wall as he leans forward. You nurse at his head, wrapping your lips around it as he thrusts slowly. You work your way down his thick, throbbing shaft, stopping when his head taps the back of your throat.

 “—gotta be fucking kidding me,” you catch bits and pieces of his mumbled praise, his fingers tangling in your hair as he holds your head still, enjoying the sensation before pulling out. You wipe at the spit on your chin as Joel pumps his cock, squeezing as his head falls back. 

 “If I wasn’t so determined to make a mess of that pussy, Sugar, I’d let you finish.” Joel sinks down to his knees on the stairs, cupping your chin with sure fingers as he kisses you, and you taste yourself on his tongue. You’re sure that tomorrow, you will find the time to be appalled that you’re here, like this, with your neighbor—

 But there is no space in your head for it now. 

 Now, Joel is settling himself between your thighs, the head of his cock sliding deliciously against you. And then fuck, he’s pushing inside, making your head fuzzy with that blissful, burning stretch. 

 “G-God,” you whimper, pressing your face against his throat, tugging at the skin there with your teeth as he seats himself all the way inside. 

 “Sorry, Sugar,” he mumbles the words into your hair, groaning as his heavy balls come to rest against you. “Best you got is me.” Joel draws out, taking all your air with him, before slamming back down, his hips meeting yours with a lewd squelch. You let out a choked gasp as he sinks his cock in to the base, his eyes rolling to half mast. His slow, steady pace is enough to make you see stars while your eyes are open, bright spots tattooing themselves against your retinas. 

 You don’t notice the hard bite of the wooden stairs into your back and the curve of your ass as you wrap your thighs around Joel’s hips. It feels so good, you’re drowning in it. In Joel. He knots a fist in the curls at the nape of your neck, tugging your head back. You let him, and are rewarded with his teeth and tongue scraping deliciously down the line of your throat. 

 “Where’ve you been hidin’ this pussy, Sugar?” The words are breathed hotly against the shell of your ear, followed by his teeth. “Why’d you hide her from me?” He punctuates his questions with a hard thrust that makes you bury your fingernails in the meat of his shoulder and sob. “Coulda been givin’ you your dick months ago.” 

 You’re not paying attention, not really, not when the white hot pleasure building at your core is all you can think about. You whine out an apology, not because you mean it, but because you think it’s what he wants to hear—and at this point, you’d tell him anything just to be able to crest the wave he’s been building inside of you. Fuck and you’re so full—

 Every slow, heavy thrust punches the breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping and whining as Joel takes you to pieces.

 “H-holy shit,” the words stick to your lips and tongue as you struggle to get them out around the moans you keep trying unsuccessfully to swallow. It was never like this with Howard, this dizzying rush of pleasure that leaves you aching for more—begging for more, even if you’re not sure you can take it. 

“P-please,” you keen, lifting your hips eagerly to meet his thrusts. “Please!”

 “Please what, Sugar?” Joel asks teasingly, before dropping lis lips to yours. He sucks your bottom lip between his teeth before releasing it. “I’d tell you to use your big girl words but I know you can’t right now, can you Sweetheart?” 

 You cum with a sob, your back arching as you dig your heels into the backs of Joel’s thighs. They buckle, and he sinks down to his knees as you feel his cock throb inside you. Joel curses into your hair, both hands gripping the lip of the stair next to your head hard enough to drive the blood from his knuckles. You lay like that for a minute, panting on the stairs as you luxuriate in the sticky, warm afterglow. 

 Thank God for the pill. 

 All you can smell is the piney scent of his aftershave, tucked against his chest like you are. For a moment, you allow yourself to bask in Joel, your face pressed against his sweat-damp skin, the feel of his pulse thrumming beneath your cheek. You don’t know why, but it makes you think of mornings. Of waking up like this, tangled up in each other, of hot coffee and quick goodbyes over rushed breakfasts, of long nights—

 “You okay?” Joel asks, leaning away from you. His cheeks are flushed, and he’s wearing a dopey smile underneath his scruffy beard. He cups your cheek, and you blink it all away, squashing those thoughts back down into your subconscious where they belong. He slips from between your thighs, and you pretend you don’t feel something like a suspicious cross between longing and disappointment. 

 “Yeah, I’m good.” You offer him a weak smile as you sit up, wincing. There’s an ache in your back from where you’d been pressed against the stairs, and as Joel tucks himself back into his pants, he grimaces, rubbing his knee. You let out a little embarrassed laugh. “Probably should have tried harder to make it to the bed, though.” 

 Joel fixes you with a sly smile. “There’s still time.” Your face heats and you sputter. 

 “I—”

 “We can just sleep,” he says, chuckling. “Scout’s honor.” 

 It feels too natural to lead him upstairs, dodging stray hands as you fish a towel out for him from the hall closet. He starts stripping before you’re even out of the bathroom, and when he holds out a hand to you from the shower, you take it. Joel tugs you against his chest, tucking you beneath his chin underneath the spray. 

 “I thought you said we could sleep?” You say, peeking up at him through your lashes, a smile playing at the edges of your lips. Joel laughs, nosing along your jawline and pressing wet kisses to the corners of your mouth. 

 “Well we’re not in bed yet, are we Sugar?” 

 the end.

 for now. 

Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️

[deluluduck227]

Hot Tub Event | Hakim ZIYECH

Warning: kinda smutty but not smut

Summary: In which Hakim is having too much fun in the hot tub with his wife.

"Okay! Let's set some rules! First thing first, the water will not touch my hair, and if it does you'll take the blame so be careful!"You babbled as you set your foot in the hot tub that Hakim rented just for the two of you. He looked relaxed and yummy as ever, spreading his arms on the tub's edge in a manly manner, he was to die for. He eyed you up and down, making sure to gaze at every inch of naked skin in his sight, and his eyes sparkled as if it was the first time seeing you. He tapped the tub's edge as a sign for you to join him which you approved. "You like what you see?" " Oh you know I always do!" You sat next to him if it wasn't on him, Your legs across his lap while you wrapped your arms around his neck. He also wrapped his arms around your slim waist pulling you dangerously close to him, moving his hand up and down your stomach making you shiver. " Life is treating me fairly at the moment! You by my side, more than I deserve!" His velvet voice was a little above a whisper and your love for him was warmer in your veins. You switched positions, saddling him while sticking your upper body to his, drawing him impossibly close. "I just love you so much." You whispered softly, flicking his cheeks with your thumbs, adorning his beautiful features. His eyebrows rose together in amazement at your sudden boldness. His eyes were like mud, perfectly matched with the frown that permanently stained his face. His aquiline nose added character to his face. Your gaze fell to his lustrous lips and you couldn't stop yourself as you pulled him into a kiss. His lips felt so familiar it hurt your heart. His breathing had become more strained; his muscles tensed. You let yourself sink into his embrace as his hands flattened against your spine. The smell of your perfume, of the soft, peachy scent of your conditioner, was dizzying, butterflies dancing in your stomach. But warmth consumed you as you leaned into the kiss, Hakim’s lips impossibly soft against your own. You soon started to move your hips slowly against his as you felt him jerk underneath you, groaning lowly into your mouth. " Don't start something you can't finish." He spoke as soon as he parted your lips apart, His voice was deep like the rumbling of the earth while his eyes were raging with desire. " Please I need you! " He chuckled at your pleading tone "Babe you know I take control, you'll be unable to walk properly for a week, and you don't want to explain that to the others." He was teasing you, his gravelly voice sounded low and rough and it only made your desire grow. " Hakim! Please! " You were so desperate and he couldn't hold back anymore. "All right, let's get you out of here! We don't want to get your hair wet!"

Hakim blessing us with those ig posts and i had to write smg abt it ! Enjoy !

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Patch of Happiness

Pairing: John!Michael x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

Warnings: fluff

Request by anon: Hey can i request a archangel Michael x reader where Michael used young John Winchester vessel? Where the brothers find out that Michael have a sweet side that is only with reader despite the fact that she is half witch and half demon but is the most sweet and innocent girl that someone can meet and Michael just want to protect her from everything and the fact that she is pregnant with his baby so the baby would be a tribrid (angel demon witch) something crazy, powerful, and new? Just fluff and cuddling between Michael and reader and happy ending. 

Summary: You're trying to live your life and help others as much as you can while Michael is out doing what he does best. When two hunters fall into your lap, Michael realizes the danger of the situation and comes right home, ready to give up everything for the woman he loves.

Square Filled: nurse au (2020) for @spnfluffbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

“Hi, Gertrude. How are you doing today?” you greet your patient with a smile.

“Oh, just fine, dear. You know I love seeing your face but I hate being back here.”

“I know. You did a great job last time. The cancer has gone down a bit. The treatment is working.”

���Good. I’m glad,” she smiles.

“I am here to take some blood and be on my say. I don’t want to take up too much of your time.”

“You’re never a bother, dear.”

She puts out the same arm you’ve been using for the past year to take blood. She has been battling cancer for a long time and has been seeing you for treatment since the beginning. The best part about being a nurse is seeing patients grow and heal. Gertrude is on her way if she keeps up the treatments.

You grab the blue tourniquet and tighten it around her upper arm to constrict the flow of blood. It makes for an easy vein. You wipe an alcohol pad across her skin to sterilize it before poking at her skin to get her veins to show.

“You’ve been drinking water, right?”

“Eight glasses a day. My daughter makes sure I have it. I forget sometimes.”

“You have good veins. You’re doing everything right.” You grab the butterfly needle and she looks away before you stick her with the needle. She’s been doing this for a long time but seeing the needle enter her skin still makes her squeamish. “Alright, the needle is in, you can look now.”

“How have you and the baby been?” she asks with a smile.

You place your left hand on your growing stomach with a shy smile. When her blood is done filling one tube, you take it out and push in the next so that the second tube can be filled.

“He’s doing so good. Kicking a lot,” you chuckle.

“Awh, that’s good, dear. I’m glad to hear it. I remember having my first child. It seems like she never slept because all she would do is kick me.”

“Yeah, I’m glad he’s not much of a mover, especially when I’m sleeping. He must sense I need a break,” you wink. You get done filling all three tubes before taking the needle out and placing a cotton swab over the wound before tying it down with two pieces of skin tape. “Alright, I will be back in a little bit. You just relax.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she smiles.

You leave her room and head back to the nurses’ station where you package the blood correctly and have an intern rush this to the labs to get tested.

“So, when is Michael going to come by again?” one of your nurse friends, Jessica, asks. “We miss him.”

“You only miss his cookies,” you smirk.

“Maybe,” she shrugs with a smile. “I can’t help it. His cooking is so good.”

Whenever Michael does have time to come down, he always brings something he cooked for you to share with the other nurses. It’s his way of apologizing for never being around all the time.

“He’s busy with work,” you keep it vague. “I’m not sure when he’s gonna be back. All I know is that it’s soon.” You grab three more empty clean vials to take someone else’s blood who is next on your list. “Gotta go.”

You’re halfway to the patient’s room when you get a searing pain in your stomach. This kind of thing has happened before so you don’t want to alert anyone about premature labor or anything. You walk to the nearest bathroom and make sure it’s empty before leaning over the sink. You take three deep breaths and try to calm down in hopes it will ease your son’s worries.

“Baby, Mommy’s doing fine. I’m okay.”

That doesn’t seem to ease him so you look at your reflection and change the color of your eyes from their natural tint to pitch black. You use some of your magic to calm your son down which works once he feels the comforting aura. As soon as you know he’s not going to cause you any more pain, you turn your eyes back to their normal color and ease up on your magic.

“There you go, baby. See? Mommy’s fine.”

You’re half-demon and half-witch who doesn’t like to use powers unless you really have to. The only time you will is if a patient is in critical condition with no hope of survival. You have some healing abilities and try to help as many people as you can. You’re not as evil as a demon but you’re sweeter than a witch. Maybe that’s why Michael took to you many years ago.

You’re different than the others.

You leave the bathroom and continue with your shift, going from room to room to gather vitals, take blood, and check up on patients to get them anything they need. Once the clock strikes twelve, you take your badge and rush to the time clock.

“I’ll be back in thirty minutes!” you announce to your friends and clock out.

You’re on your way to grab a quick bite from the cafeteria when two men step foot into the hospital.

“Help, he needs help,” the taller one says.

“Are you okay?” you rush over without thinking you’re supposed to be taking your lunch. “What happened?”

“He’s been stabbed. I can’t seem to stop the bleeding.”

“Come here.” You take them to an empty room and lay the shorter one on the examination table to get a better look at what you're working with. You unbutton his shirt and see a deep ash on his abdomen. “Oh, yeah, they got you good. What happened?”

“I walked into a knife.”

“Accident,” the taller one says at the same time as the shorter one.

“He accidentally walked into a knife,” the taller one grounds out, giving the shorter one a weird look.

“Right. Let me get the doctor in here.”

You’re about to leave when the shorter one sits up.

“Sweetheart, I just need some stitches and I’ll be as good as new.”

“This is a stabbing. I need to get the doctor.”

“Alright, then I guess we’ll leave. Come on, Sammy.”

He tries to get off the table but you gently push him back down so he doesn’t go anywhere.

“You’re going to get me in trouble.”

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” he smirks.

“Wait here,” you sigh and leave the room. You return with a kit that will help you stitch his skin back together. You open his shirt the rest of the way to clean the wound when you notice something on the left side of his chest. An anti-possession tattoo. “You’re hunters.”

“I mean, sure, we like to hunt animals here and there but nothing serious,” the tall one stutters.

“That’s not the kind of hunters I’m talking about, and you know it.” You dab the wound to clean it and the man hisses. “I know an anti-possession symbol when I see one.”

“How do you know about hunting?”

You look at both men and flash your eyes black to show them what you really are. They lean back in shock but you’re quick to ease their concerns.

“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.” You change your eye color back to normal and continue to fix the man. “I’m half-demon anyway. Half-demon and half-witch.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Helping as many people as I can with the curse I’ve been given. I didn’t choose to be this way. I was born a witch, a full-fledged witch who was happy in her coven. My coven was ransacked by a group of demons who took a liking to me. Long story short, I was with them for five tortuous years when they finally put a blade in my heart. Well, I had created a serum I kept in my body, much like the hex bags Rowena kept in her body to keep herself from dying, and I was brought back to life. Only this time, I was half-demon. I don’t know how or why because I never saw those demons again. Now I just keep to myself and help out as many people as I can.”

You don’t tell them about Michael because you know he’d be pissed if you kept telling people about him. He’s very hated in the hunting community, so the more people know about him the more you and your son can be in danger. You’re not sure why because Michael is nothing but sweet, kind, and loving. He’s good but most people don’t see that.

“What about you two? What really happened here?”

“I’m Sam and this is my brother Dean. We were on a demon hunt not far from here when one of them stabbed my brother. I usually do the stitching but this seemed a bit too deep to just patch up.”

“Winchester?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve heard about you two. I never thought we’d meet. I tend to stay away from hunters.” You quickly fix Dean up and place a large cotton pad over the wound, securing it with skin tape. “I was on my way to get something to eat if you two want like to join me?”

“Sure,” Sam smiles.

You clean up the mess you made and escort the two brothers to the cafeteria. You and Dean get a hearty lunch while Sam gets something mild like a salad.

“Not to point out the obvious but I can see you’re pregnant.”

“Your point?” you ask and take a bite of your food.

“We’ve met a half-human, half-demon child before. He was too powerful for his own good.”

“Yeah, well, you haven’t met a witch-demon-angel tribrid before.”

Shit, you weren't supposed to tell them that an angel impregnated you.

“You got pregnant by an angel? Which one?” Dean asks.

“Doesn’t matter. I know what you’re going to say. Every child of an angel ends up motherless. They all die giving birth but not me. I am not going to let my child only know pictures and videos of me. I made a spell so powerful that I can draw from when I give birth. I don’t have to die.”

“Wow, I didn’t know that was possible.”

“Honestly, me either. It might not work. It’s all speculation at this point.” Your phone rings and you smile when you see who is calling. “Sorry, excuse me.” You answer it. “Hi, baby.”

“Darling, I’m sorry but it’s going to take a little bit longer until I can come home.”

“It’s okay, I get you’re busy.”

“I hate leaving you all alone without protection.”

“I don’t think that will be an issue. I met two hunters who I hear are the best. I just met them. Plus, I have my magic to protect me.”

“What hunters?”

“Sam and Dean Winchester.”

Michael’s ears ring at the mention of them. Panic envelops his entire body.

“Change of plans. I’m coming home right now.”

He hangs up abruptly and you pull the phone from your ear in confusion.

“That was weird,” you mutter. Since you stayed and helped Dean, your lunch break was cut down by fifteen minutes. “I have to get back to work. You can stay here and hang out if you want.”

“Sure, thanks,” Sam smiles. You leave the cafeteria to return back to work and Sam turns to his brother. “Are we staying?”

“She’s a demon/witch who got pregnant by an angel. Of course, we’re staying.”

Sam and Dean kept a close eye on you from a distance while you worked until your last break of the day. You don’t have to clock out for this one since it’s only fifteen minutes so you grab a granola bar to snack on and your tablet. You almost run into the brothers because you’re not watching where you’re going.

“Oh, hey! Have you been here the whole day?”

“Yeah, you know, just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Thanks but I’m okay. I have a couple of more hours left before I get to go home. You don’t have to stay here.” You walk around them to find an empty on-call room when you spot your boyfriend standing at the nurse’s desk. “Michael!”

You run into his arms and kiss his cheek but he’s staring at Sam and Dean with a deadly look.

“You alright?”

Sam and Dean are floored at who you’ve just kissed because they know exactly who this is. Dean met him when he went back in time to meet his father. It’s like he’s staring at someone he used to know but he has to remind himself that the person in front of him isn’t a young John Winchester. It’s Michael, the archangel.

“You know him?” Sam asks.

“This is my boyfriend,” you grin.

“Can I talk to you two alone?” he says and kisses the top of your head. “I’ll be right back, darling.” He takes them to an empty room and allows them to go in first. “I don’t care what you want. You win. Take whatever you want. Just leave her alone.”

“You don’t even know what we want,” Dean says.

“I don’t care. I’ll leave you two alone. I’ll leave Heaven alone. Just don’t bring her into it.”

Sam and Dean look at each other before the younger one nods in agreement. They make some sort of deal where Michael leaves everyone alone and no one will come after you or your son before and after birth. Michael leaves the room twenty minutes later and brings you into his arms.

“What’s going on?”

“We’re leaving.”

“Now? I have two more hours of my shift.”

“Don’t worry about that. We need to go.”

“Where are we going?”

“Home,” he smiles down at you. “I’m not leaving you anymore.”

You’re his entire world and he’d give up everything to make sure you’re safe and sound, even giving up the throne.

“Let’s go home, then,” you smile back.

x

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[rat-packer]

You, D, and the witnesses.

Includes: intox (mostly weed), forced masc, FTM, feral, public/exhibition, autoandrophilia, roachification. Interpret however you want.

Your buddy D lets you in his home and sizes you up. “You look so fucking different dude, like a different person.” You scratch the itch from the tight neckline of your form fitting sweater as the observation makes you slightly flushed. “Thanks dude,” you mutter back, immediately cringing at your voice not going as low as his. You clear your throat. "Ok, enough gay shit," he says back. You both laugh.

“It’s about time I go to one of your famous parties,” you say, acknowledging your recent distance. You catch up with him.

Two other people have joined and it’s time to begin smoking. D tugs at the bottom of your sweater and you sit down with them. It has been so long since you've smoked, that the urge starts feeling fulfilled before you even start. Your everyday worries already melt away. Your tolerance has significantly weakened, closer and closer to that of an amateur. D passes the blunt to you, accidentally grazing your stubbly jaw and neck, thickened by hormones. They’re looking at you, you better take it like a man.

Instead, you inhale without thinking and start coughing the smoke in his face, wheezing. He puts a hand on your upper chest and tells you to take another. "Why the fuck do i need permission?" you said, trying to sound sly. You’re already getting high. "You've been way too tense man, and you’re always coming to me overthinking.” He slaps your back. You’re no longer coughing. “Plus, I know you want more so come on," he said, making your small testosterone filled dick twitch.

You take in even more smoke, fulfilling that unmet craving, and the room smoothly fills with the delicious smell. your back relaxes and your legs spread. The rotation continues and he encourages you. Everyone makes occasional conversation about whatever new movie is out, or the most recent bullshit fight they got into. Everyone's voice becomes deeper, gravely and relaxed, until your world is fully consumed with being high. So much that you don’t notice you’re taking fuller hits than everyone else. You've gotten wet and dont care.

He offers you his jacket, a loose fitting thick flannel with fuzz on the inside. You change right there, throwing your musky sweater on him, showing everyone your binder and dark stomach hair, flannel slightly open. He looks at you and says “My man, you look so much better now that theres a stick out of your ass. Guess now I need to put MINE in." you and the others laugh. You feel your body reacting to his words. Any feelings of embarrassment about others seeing your body, or having this guy publicly come onto you turn into laughing and arousal. It turns into euphoria, and you move closer together.

A few minutes after your permanent stoner smile kicks in, he says “I knew you had this in you bro. You take backwoods to the face like no one else I know, and that’s after your break.” You’ve all finished the first blunt now. “I fully forgot how good this is, man,” you say back, liking the sound of your voice more than ever. Sure, you out smoked him after your break to prove something, but that also means you’re way higher than everyone else.

A bunch more people you don’t know make their way into the function. You’re confident right now, so you have no problems chopping it up.

Tension rises as you and him are both moving towards the kitchen for drinks. You wanted to race him but after two paces you shove into him and he stumbles. You laugh at him. You’re both messing with each other when you end up pushed against the counter.

You then feel his hard cock tucked into his waistband, pressed on your ass. He’s trying to hide how hot he’s feeling too. That’s when you realized: at this point you don't care if anyone is watching nearby or even through the windows.

“Oh I’ll fucking get you,” you said smiling. This energy of unrestricted masculinity, and you being so fucking high and sensitive to your environment, makes the weed and man musk in the air feel palpable. This is the first time you’ve felt yourself get hard through your pants. You want to take advantage of this new achievement.

He puts the full weight of his hand on your broad shoulder, the other on your ample, but comparably smaller hip. “Is that all you g-“ before he can finish, you turn around to ‘grab a beer on the counter’, and firmly push your t-dick on his bulge, and he lets out a moan. “Oh shit man” you say back, pretending it was accidental, “My fault,” but all other thoughts except him and you being watched leave your head. You know what’s about to happen, but you slowly reach for anything on the counter to make it look unintentional.

The new guys are murmuring, just noticing something sexy happened, but too high to react negatively. You both don’t move yet.

You’re face to face with him when you see his eyes shift from longing to shocked arousal.

You aggressively strip each other’s belts and jeans off at the same time, leaving loose boxers on, and both of your penises peeking out, his more now that he can’t tuck away his boner. As you’re feeling each other up, he says “You know your motives but it’s so hot when you pretend you don’t. You dumbass. That’s what boy sluts do you know that?” you can sense him going feral. You manage to let out a “Bro… I’m not-.. mmmffuck.”

You two are now only thinking with your cocks, but your high heightens your response to where you start to feel yourself dripping and heating up. He bumps his dick onto yours and uncontrollably moans “Holy fuck… I didn’t know that was possible after being on T.” You touch each other everywhere you can reach, both pervier than before. You’re now rubbing your tips together and his gets fully saturated with your wetness.

“Dude, did you think you could hide that?” he asked, and you swiftly replied “Did you think you could stop yourself regardless?” He moans again and grabs your ass. “And to think I was gonna wait till we were alone…” he adds. “The weed makes you so easy and slippery, man.”

Some of the other men have started feeling up their own dicks and one starts taking a video with a tent in his pants, adding to your arousal. Another one laughs mischievously, deep down knowing this is hot, and puts another blunt in your mouth so you can dive deeper into this tension filled pleasure. D smiles at him knowing it was the right move.

“I know you want this” you say, fully giving it up that you were pretending before. “You wanted a party, right bro? Let’s fucking start one.” You uncontrollably start humping him and in between smoking you use your tongue anywhere you can reach in this position.

You love being watched and filmed for even more people. You don’t care about your image or anything in this moment, you just wanna be horny with this man. You take even deeper hits of the blunt, and can feel precum leaking out of his dick covering yours as you both pleasure each other purely from rubbing your cocks together, both moaning huskily and whining. His starts going in circles around yours. When you blow smoke, you divert back to his sack, partially trying to make him cum early, and partially wishing it was attached to you. “You want these balls too?” He pushes you onto your knees and presses your face into his musky balls wet from sweat and you.

You’re twisted with glee knowing you can be a dumb boytoy he’s never had like this before. Your friendship will never be the same.

He’s able to hold back. “Hold on,” He pulls away, both of you panting. You can’t help but put your hand on your dick. He cracks open a cold beer after stroking your hairy stomach, and practically feeds it to you. “This will make you feel even hotter, you dirty boy” you both laugh, causing it to drip down your chin, under your binder and onto your happy trail. you push the can away halfway through and glare at 2 of the many hard men ogling his and your bodies. “Do you like the show?” You ask, wanting nothing more than to drain D.

TBC

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