#surprisingly not porn!!!!!

[dadvans]

i feel the weight [7x09 coda, bucktommy]

Buck hadn't actually been planning on seeing Tommy tonight but the late night pit-stop at Eddie’s has him freaking out, so he shoots Tommy a text from the dark driver's seat of his jeep: kinda need to get out of my head. Could you come over?

The response is almost immediate: already in bed. If you’re safe to drive there’s a spot next to me waiting, followed by a selfie, Tommy shirtless sitting up in bed with his readers on.

Buck’s keys are turning in the ignition before his phone screen goes dark, and he’s pulling out of Eddie’s driveway to hurry over. Tommy gave him a key last week, and despite an odd track record staying over at exes’ places instead of them at his, he’s excited he finally gets to use it.

He lets himself in, kicking his shoes off and is still half tangled in his jacket when he nudges Tommy’s bedroom door open. The overhead light is still on and Tommy’s got what is clearly a World War Two biography thicker than a Tolstoy novel in his lap, fingers keeping his spot in place. He puts it on the nightstand and smiles so softly for a big guy, gives a little chin tilt greeting.

“Hey you,” he says. “Everything okay?”

“I don’t know,” Buck replies, taking broad strides over to his bedside and then climbing in Tommy's lap, straddling Tommy's hips, getting hands on his face to trace the rim of Tommy’s glasses with his thumb. “These are staying on, by the way.”

“Fine by me,” Tommy says and sighs, searching Buck’s face for a second. “Okay, sweetheart, let me take care of you.”

And then Buck loses himself for a little bit.

He comes back to himself sweaty, minus his pants, and come drunk, panting at Tommy’s side some time later. Tommy’s leaning on an elbow, looking at him. His glasses are crooked, and Buck reaches out to straighten them.

“Thanks.” Tommy snorts. “So, you wanna talk about it? Something happen during your shift today?”

“Not really. Sort of.” Evan sighs, and Tommy pets his hair, pushing the curls stuck to his forehead up. “Something going on with Eddie, and I feel like I shouldn’t even be talking about it, but I’m scared he’s going to hurt himself. I’m scared he’s going to do something that’ll hurt Chris in the long run too.”

“Sounds difficult.”

“Yeah, I mean, you guys are close too, so if you see him this week or sometime soon, just— could you check in with him? I don’t think I’m overreacting, but the situation seems crazy, and it just makes my head hurt." He sighs. "I'd honestly rather talk about anything else.”

“Okay, I can do that.” Tommy doesn’t sound placating. He never does when Buck talks about Eddie, which is a novel experience compared to Buck’s other relationships. And maybe that’s because Tommy is friends with Eddie, but also maybe it’s because Tommy’s just different like that.

Good for you, Bobby had said.

Buck smiles. “There is something good that happened earlier today, actually. I can tell you about that. Bobby told me he uh, approves. Of us.”

“Oh? Do all your relationships need Bobby’s stamp of approval?” Tommy asks wryly.

“No, no, it’s not like that. It’s just. Bobby’s seen me go through a lot of relationships, and I think he worries, you know? I have a tendency to not do the right thing sometimes, compromise too much, maybe, try too hard. And I think he’s seen how settled I’ve felt. At ease, you know?” Buck sighs. “It felt really good to hear.”

“That is good to hear.” Tommy’s hand combs through Buck’s hair down to cradle the back of his head, and he pulls them together for a soft kiss, just one. “I’m glad your dad approves of us, Evan.”

“Stop,” Buck says, but he’s smiling.

“Not in a million years,” Tommy replies, and he’s smiling too

[sophiamcdougall]

I am never going to complain about Greek Duolingo again

I mean, I am. But still.

So, as some of you know, my family has been coming to this tiny Greek seaside village for several years. Just over a week ago I came out here with my mum, under the impression that early September, after the height of the summer heat, would be a good time to have a holiday. ANYWAY Storm Daniel had other ideas about that. Locally things are improving (I'm actually really pissed off about the disaster-porn tone of most English-language media coverage, but that's another post). The power is back on, there's running water most of the time, and though the latter is not drinkable, a truck from the government came and handled out free bottled water yesterday. But we are currently kind of stuck. Can't do tourist things. Can't go home. There aren't any local flights out until Saturday and the road to Thessaloniki is still closed.

So this evening, feeling kind of aimless and depressed, I go down to the nearest beach with a couple of binbags and start cleaning up in an effort to at least do something positive. I always try to do this at least once out here and obviously, after the storm, there's a lot more plastic and rubbish than usual.

At some point I find this large, round bit of metal - some kind of machinery part, I think -- that's too big for the bag, so I take it to the bins on its own, leaving the rubbish bag on the beach. And when I come back for it, something among the stones beside it moves.

Specifically, it pulls its head sharply inside its shell

So, meanwhile I've been trying to learn some Greek with the help of Duolingo.

I currently have a 33-day streak and... I have questions. Shouldn't I be able to use the past or future tenses by now? Shouldn't I be able to say "x is like y"? I can't do those things. But one thing I absolutely can say all day long is έχω μια χελώνα : I have a turtle.

This is far from the limit of Duolingo Greek's turtle-related content. "An obsession with turtles" is my mother's characterisation. I can inform you that the turtle is not a bird, and, improbably, that the turtle is drinking milk. I can introduce you to a turtle in company with a horse and an elephant. As far as Duolingo is concerned, it really is turtles all the way down.

Now this, you may be able to see, is not a turtle. It has claws rather than flippers. It is a tortoise. I know there are wild tortoises in Greece: my aunt once rescued a pair of them shagging in the middle of the road -- but that was up in the mountains. I've even seen one myself, but it was also on a road and very dead.

I am 95% certain they don't belong on beaches. There's nothing for it to eat, except, unfortunately, a lot of plastic. Even if it gets off the beach it will immediately find itself on a road where it could get hit by a car. I'm pretty sure it must have been washed down by the floodwater and has been just sitting there, dazed, ever since.

Now obviously the first thing I want to do on encountering this unusual animal is to go and tell my mummy, so I do. The tortoise immediately brightens her day. She agrees that the tortoise is not happy on the beach and needs to be taken somewhere safe. it gets surprisingly wriggly when picked up so we put it in a carrier bag with some grapes and cucumber and go looking for somewhere to rehome it.

We find a path leading up between the houses towards a likely-looking field, but before we get very far a dog in a yard goes berserk and a man's head pops over a fence and demands to know what we're doing. He does this in English, as evidently we're just that obviously tourists.

"I found a tortoise on the beach!" I explain. "We want to find somewhere to put it."

"A what," he asks.

"It's like a, you know," I begin and then to my astonishment I find myself saying... "μια χελώνα"

"Oh! A turtle!" he says.

"But from the land. δεν είναι χελώνα", [it is not a turtle,] I say, as I am worried he will tell me to put it back near the sea where I found it. As it turns out it actually IS a χελώνα, Greek does not distinguish between turtles and tortoises, but I don't know that; I can't even name the days of the week or identify any colours other than pink yet, give me a break.

The man's entire demeanour changes and thaws. He does not worry about my turtle-that-is-not-a-turtle conundrum. He knows where οι χελώνες come from and where η χελώνα μας belongs. He leads us through a gate into a courtyard area.

"[somethingsomething] μια χελώνα," he explains to the assembled onlookers, of whom there are, suddenly, a surprising number.

"ΜΙΑ ΧΕΛΩΝΑ!!!" crows the throng of delighted small children, who are, suddenly, everywhere.

"μια χελώνα!" I agree, accepting that at least for current purposes, that is what it is.

"Μπορούμε να δούμε τη χελώνα σας; [can we see your turtle?]" asks an adorable little girl, shyly, and I understand??

The children fucking love looking at the χελώνα and showing it to them is kind of magical?

I finally put the tortoise down on the grass of this wild area off to the side of the courtyard, and marvel aloud that it is weird that I barely know any Greek except how to say μια χελώνα.

"I think she will soon run off," a kind lady called Aspasia assures me, seeing I remain slightly anxious about its fate. "I don't know why I'm saying 'she'. I suppose because χελώνα is feminine in Greek."

"Yes! I know that!" I exclaim, thrilled.

"Well done!" she says. And also she asks if we are OK for drinking water after the storm and if we need any help with anything and is just generally incredibly lovely and now we know more of the neighbours!

So "μια χελώνα" has just become, by a long way, my most-used and most understood and all-around most conversationally successful phrase in Greek. So I guess I have to admit I was wrong to doubt Duolingo's wisdom: it is correct to be obsessed with turtles. And I concede that prior to learning how to count to ten or to distinguish right from left, the simple ability to yell the word TURTLE over and over again is, it turns out, a crucial element of the responsible traveller's social skills.

(I am pretty fluent in Italian and turtles haven't come up in conversation even once?)

[fake-bleach]

ROAD TRIP STOP | LOGAN HOWLETT x READER

taking a small road trip with old man logan where you’re halfway to where you need to be, and you're bored out of your mind. unluckily for you, your boyfriend won't possibly give into your antics.

or, logan fucks you in a gas station bathroom <3

word count: 3.3k

WARNINGS/DISCLAIMERS: (18+ only!) fem!reader, porn w/ slight plot lol, piv, unprotected sex, this shit is roughhh, degrading, filthyyy dirty talk, use of pet names, slight choking, coming inside/creampie, manhandling? i guess?, logan refers to himself as "your old man" bc i'm insane, anddd happy ending bc we all know how much i love those! :D

a/n: there aren't nearly enough fics abt old man logan & i need him Badly.

+ logan pictures from @divinesols incredible moodboard <3

ao3 link! | my masterlist

you’re 4 hours into your road trip, and logan, well, being the man he is, hasn’t let you drive a single second.

he tells you that you can just sit there n’ look pretty and that’s good enough for him. but, he’s getting tired, and the nearest hotel isn’t for another 50 miles.

you notice his eyes getting heavier, his body slouching more, his grip on the steering wheel loosening. so, you do what you do best. why not have some harmless fun with your old boyfriend?

your hands subtly inch over to his thighs, fingers trailing the clothed skin just above his knee, and he flinches surprisingly, glancing at you for a moment with that tired face of his.

“what are y’doing? huh?” he asks, with a quirk in his eyebrow and his voice rasping more than usual from his fatigue; it only makes it all the more arousing for you.

you grin, your head turned to look up at him with a sly expression. “just waking you up a bit. you’re practically falling asleep here.”

your fingers move upwards now, slowly but surely, and right before you can reach the spot just below his bulge, he sighs out, gripping your hand to lightly push it off of him.

“not here. got another hour left til’ we’re at the hotel. then, we can rest up, baby.”

you pout, looking at him eagerly. “are you even gonna make it there, lo?” you tease, “your eyes are getting heavier, you’re tired.. why don’t you just let me drive?” you attempt, but you’re knocked down the second you try.

he huffs, shaking his head. “don’t you try that shit. you know what m’gonna say to that.”

you groan at that, rolling your eyes fussily as your head turns to look up at the roof of the car. “you’re insufferable,” you sigh out, jokingly, of course. but, you were with logan long enough to know just how stubborn he could be. that he could almost always be.

which means, you knew exactly how to get what you wanted, in more ways than one. 

let’s just say this way was more fun, anyway.

you let out an exasperated breath before turning back to face him, your eyes lighting up just slightly before you open up your mouth.

“guess i just gotta..” you trail off, hands now on your body with your fingertips grazing the skin on your chest; roaming around the loose shirt you had on. “..entertain myself for the next hour then..”

logan turns his head to you now, eyes fixing on your hand just long enough to catch you slip it underneath your bra, cupping one of your tits. you let out a low moan as you look into his eyes, fingers rolling the nipple there, and he scoffs.

it’s a sound that has your heart racing immediately.

“you’ve been a good girl so far, sweetheart. would hate for you to switch up when we’re almost fuckin’ there.” he warns you, turning his head back to the road, having seen enough. “don’t you start now. gonna make you regret it.”

a pang of arousal hits you just like that, pussy involuntarily clenching around nothing as he threatens you; a threat that you definitely need to see for yourself.

you merely pout at him again, but his words aren’t enough to stop you. not when you’re just getting started.

your hand leaves your breast, slowly inching down your stomach, then to the waistband of your shorts, all with your eyes still locked on him. you bite your lip as your hand breaches underneath the material, testing the waters before your fingers reach the hem of your panties.

fingertips aching to dip into the wet heat, you anticipate your own touch as your hands lower, but an immediate grasp at your wrist stops you completely, eliciting a gasp from your throat.

mouth falling open in shock, you turn to look at the man responsible with that gruff look on his face, and that snarl from him gives you more than enough of a warning.

you clear your throat, letting out a noise of frustration towards your boyfriend as he all but tosses your hand away carelessly.

“knock. it. off. don’t make me say it again.”

logan nearly growls at you, moving in closer to get right in your face; he isn’t playing around, and you know it.

but, god, does it only encourage you more.

it isn’t until logan’s focus is completely back on the road that you test the waters again; your fingers finally inserting themselves into your soft, warm folds, wet and waiting so impatiently.

it makes you moan, a hushed sound that you try your hardest to bite back from releasing, but you’re evidently unsuccessful.

so, before you know it, the truck is swerving, causing you to pull yourself back to hold onto the sides of the car, anywhere that you could grab onto. the wheels squeal loudly as the high pitch penetrates your ears, and logan makes a harsh u-turn without a second to waste.

“lo! what the fuck!” you exclaim loudly, wild eyes reaching for his own, but it’s no use. he’s dead set in front of him, shaking his head furiously as the white of his knuckles present itself from holding onto the wheel so tightly.

he’s had enough of your shit.

his eyes never leave the road in front of him once, never returning to you. no matter how much you talk or try to get him to respond, he doesn’t budge.

instead, for the next 5 minutes, silence fills the space between you as your eyes shut from your frustration. it’s all you really can do at this point.

but, it’s only when the high screech of the wheels halting and the gear being put into park has your eyes opening again, eyes latching onto the bright lights in front of you.

a gas station, and the convenience store’s white luminescent glass reflecting on logan’s face. he’s out the driver’s side as soon as you can look at him, and before you can process it, he’s dragging you out of the truck, slamming the door shut as he does so.

you scramble against him, fists almost pushing their hardest into his chest as you whine loudly, increasingly dazed and confused.

“logan, what the fuck are you doing?! let go of me!”

you fight against him harder, but there’s nothing stopping him. not now.

he lets out an exasperated breath, his heavy footsteps embedding themselves into the loud gravel beneath them as he drags you along.

“don’t play that shit with me. actin’ like you don’t know what the hell you’re doing,” he practically yells at you in a hushed voice, “you know what the fuck you’re doing.”

“walk.” he orders you instantly, and you don’t hesitate to obey. not when his voice gets like that.

most of all, because it makes your heart pound—pounding in your chest because he’s right. you know what you’re doing.. but, you can’t say you regret it. no, not one bit.

and if he’s gonna make you regret it, you might as well go all out. right?

his grip on your arm is tight as you walk side by side with him, leading you into the gas station with the door open for you. you can’t even acknowledge the cashier from how quick logan swifts the two of you past them; straight towards the bathroom, and it makes you gulp. 

it’s too late for anyone to be around, too late for anyone to care, and you know that. but, the thought exhilarates you anyway.

he shoves the door open with a hushed whisper—one that’s almost incoherent as it escapes his lips. “you wanna act like a fucking brat?” he shuts the door hurriedly, shoving your body against the sink, “i’m gonna treat you like a fucking brat.”

you yelp at the sudden movement, his fingers digging themselves into your skin as you cry out at the feeling. it’s rough and brutal and it burns, but it’s so fucking good.

“lo.. lo, please,” you whine as your eyes shut tightly, the overwhelming sensation of his hands on you and his hot breath hitting your skin being too much to handle.

your body is flush against the sink as you attempt to squirm, to try to get him to do something, anything.

that cruel laugh of his fills your ears—quiet yet booming in your head as it sends chills throughout your entire body, eyes flashing open to look at him in the mirror in front of you. “please? please?” logan mocks you, “do y’even know what you’re asking for, baby? nah.. you don’t.”

“you just want..” logan trails off, his hands mindlessly reaching for your shorts, “to get fucked.. like the whore you are.”

without a single warning, he yanks them down along with your panties, and your whines are impossible to stop when the cool air hits your bare skin. when his filthy words are the only thing you can think about.

“can’t keep these pretty hands to yourself, you gotta rile me up to do it for you?” you hear the clank of his belt unbuckling, the zipper of his jeans sliding down, “gotta piss me off every goddamn time you get so fucking needy? i mean,” he laughs harder now, “not that i really blame you..”

logan pauses, and his eyes that were once staring directly at you now shift to look straight ahead, latching onto your mirrored reflection instead. as if he was looking right into you now. “pretty girl like you.. would be a shame to let this cunt go to waste. so, i’ll do you a favor..”

your jaw falls open in complete shock as your face contorts, as the tip of his cock breaches your tight hole, making your eyes roll back instantaneously with a sob from your lips.

“i’ll use her real good. for what she’s made for, yeah?”

your hands grip the sink in front of you as tightly as possible, body trembling as logan groans into your ear, his hands on your body never loosening.

instead, his grip only tightens as his hips become flush against your ass, his entire cock piercing you to the hilt with a satisfied moan.

“that was easier this time, wasn’t it? gettin’ used to me now. just needed to..” logan takes a moment to pull himself out of you, the tip resting against your entrance as he groans. he slams himself back inside of you so hard that your body fails you, your hands landing on the mirror to hold yourself up, bent over.

“break her in real fucking good.”

your body shakes against him as you cry out at his intrusion, stammering out a string of noises as your walls involuntarily clench around him over and over again. it’s almost as if you’re rapidly adapting to him; the way he stretches you out so much that it hurts in the best way possible. you’re pulsing around him, increasingly growing wetter by the second as your eyes water from the intense sensation.

your words slur with a few whines of what seem to be logan’s name as your hands move back to the sink, attempting to push yourself back up against him, but he stops you. grabbing one of your hands, he places it right against the mirror again, holding it still as he grinds himself into you. it makes you breathe out rapidly, body bent over the sink completely now.

“keep em’ right there. right fucking there. you don’t get to do that. y’don’t get to make any choices here.” he grunts in your ear, his thick beard grazing along your jaw as his eyes flicker from your face back to the mirror. he notices the way you’re trembling, eyes filled with those pretty tears of yours, and it makes him smile—a chuckle leaving him shamelessly.

he takes a moment to admire you, whispering out, “what i’m gonna do to you, baby..” and it makes your eyes flutter shut, warmth filling your core.

his other hand trails up the front of your body now, and it practically covers you completely because of how big it is—your stomach, your breasts, your chest, then finally, your neck. your gasp is loud; heavy, as his fingers wrap around your throat, holding you still for him.

all of you in the palm of his hand—all in his control.

you moan eagerly as he looks into your eyes through the mirror, grinning almost maliciously, “isn’t this what you wanted?” he laughs, his hips stirring a bit as he agonizingly pulls out of you, making you wince, “you wanted my attention so bad, wanted my cock so fucking bad..” he growls in your ear, his hand sliding from your throat to the back of your neck, pushing you down hard, and it makes you grip onto the side of the sink even more. 

“well, now you fucking got it.”

the sound of his rasping grunt hits you first; before you’re sobbing out on his cock, pelvis hammering inside of you with a tight hold on your neck, keeping you there with no chance of stopping, no squirming, no escaping.. no running away from this.

all you can do is take it as he pounds into you, the agonizing ache of his cock sliding in and out of you rapidly increasing the coil in your core, your loud cries and moans enough to make him go harder.

“there you go, there she is..” logan grits out, hands now grasping at your hips, smacking your ass, eliciting a grunt from you, “better fuckin’ hope no one walks in here, or else all they’re gonna see is some whore gettin’ used.”

you cry out as you feel the tip of his cock reach the deepest parts inside of you, nudging your g-spot suddenly as a tear slides down your cheek, your knuckles white from how tight you were grasping at your surroundings. your cheeks grow hot from the idea of that happening, stomach tightening as heat pools your core.

“what’d they think, huh? you think they’d wanna join in on the fun? bet they’d wanna fuck you too after i’m done with you. tightest fuckin’ hole i’ve ever had.”

you whine out now, shaking your head desperately in retaliation as you deny it. you couldn’t ever have another man like this, not now, not ever—only him.

logan sighs out, “no, no, no, i’d never let em’ baby, don’t you worry,” he reassures you, pressing his lips against the top of your head, “this,” he murmurs, his hand reaching to cup the front of your cunt, the rough skin on his palm grazing your clit just enough to make you squeal, “s’all fuckin’ mine. you hear me? not a single soul gets to use her like i can.”

“not like she’d want it anyway. only wants my cock in her. s’the only way she can really be filled up.. fucked stupid and cryin’ for me. ain’t that right? never got fucked by a man like me before y’met me, and i’m sure as hell no one will ever get her trembling like i do.”

you shake your head again, tears continuously spilling out of your eyes as your stomach tightens repeatedly, “n-no, lo, only you—” you stammer out as logan buries himself inside of you to the hilt, plunging into the warm heat of your walls, and he slows, relying on pure power than pace now. the harsh drive of his hips has your head fogging up, so close to reaching your peak with your cunt shuddering.

“ohh, there we go, she’s doing it now. shaking all over this fucking cock, squeezin’ me so tight,” he hisses, “that all you up in this pretty little head, or can you even control it? can’t even control it, can you, baby?”

a string of noises leaves your lips, breathless and mixed with whines and a few tears in your eyes as your core spasms out, his cock hitting deep inside of you repeatedly.

“what was that? can’t really.. understand you, baby, y’gotta speak up..” he teases, a mean laugh escaping his throat, “c’monnn, use your words, really think em’ out, say em’ clearly.”

“c’mon, show me that you’re still my good girl. my good little girl. speak up for your old man, honey.”

you yelp out at his filthy words, “m’.. i c-can’t.. control it, ah!” your moans involuntarily stringing out, eyes fluttering shut and rolling to the back of your head, your pussy convulsing around him intensely. “g-gonna–c-cum, lo, oh—” you spit out, your chest grasping for as much air as possible.

he hums in your ear now, fingers reaching for your clit and fastening tight, harsh circles at it, making you shudder, your cunt throbbing around his cock—pulsating over and over again as you start to see white. “gonna fill you up, sweetheart, gonna make you take it, fuck.”

you can’t even register him anymore as he talks you through it, the “come for me, baby,” muffled in your ears as you listen to him, cunt constricting around him tightly as you soak him, and the sound is filthy as logan chases his release, squelching loudly from your climax.

you let out a muffled sob as logan finally reaches his peak, slamming himself deep inside of you as he holds you there, the spurts of white hot spilling & coating your walls. all you can hear is the ringing in your ears, along with the mixture of your heavy breaths and logan’s rasps surrounding you.

logan’s strong arms pull you up against him as you catch your breath, heart rate slowing as your back leans against his chest tiredly. he mutters sweet nothings to you, praising you with kisses along your neck, cheek, then to your lips.

“my good fucking girl, my sweet girl—oh, baby,” he hums in your ear, eyes shut as he takes you in. you sigh out, breathing him in as your hand reaches behind, landing on the back of his head to pull him in closer, “god, i love you.”

you laugh, pressing a mindless kiss on his skin, “i love you more, lo, i–i’m sorry for acting out, for being such a—” you begin to apologize, but he just shuts you up with another peck to your lips. “shh, you hush now. i appreciate it.. you riling me up all the damn time. s’ the only way i can still feel so young.”

you giggle, eyes opening up to turn your head to him, taking in his disheveled look—tired, old, grumpy. the man you loved, as handsome as ever.

“always young in my eyes, lo..” you smile, “besides.. it’s the only way i can get you to fuck me that good.” you tease.

he huffs, rolling his eyes. “i fuck you that good every goddamn time, n’ don’t you deny it.”

you laugh, nodding. you can’t deny that fact. but, your eyebrows furrow slightly, suddenly thinking back to the previous events.

“did you really fuck me in a gas station bathroom, babe? what if someone walked in?!” you groan, pushing your forehead into his chest, embarrassed.

he chuckles, “locked it the minute we got in here, baby. wouldn’t let anyone see you like that,” he reassures you, gently gripping the side of your head to make you look up at him, “you got that?”

his face is stern now as he looks into your eyes, and those butterflies in your stomach erupt as if it were the first time you ever got them from him. you nod though, gleaming up at him.

“got it.”

he grins, “good. now, let’s get you cleaned up n’ back on the road. back’s killing me even more now n’ that bed’s calling my name.”

you laugh at him, teasing him further. “old man.”

you wouldn’t want it any other way.

[pathologicalreid]

cherry trees | S.R.

You find Spencer reading some... interesting poetry.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: breeding kink, unprotected piv sex, mentions of ovulation, pregnancy, fingering, d/s dynamic if you squint, nipple play, mating press, spencer reads erotic poetry, aftercare word count: 3.07k a/n: i have no explanation for myself. the poetry in this is all neruda, if you're interested in it. also this is only one interpretation of that poem but it worked for the plot. i still think im bad at writing smut but i liked this idea so much that i had to.

Peering over at your boyfriend from the kitchen, you filled your glasses with the wine that Rossi had gifted you and returned to Spencer in the living room. His nose was buried in a book, which wasn’t new in the slightest. What piqued your interest was the fact that he had covered the book he was reading. Both the front and back covers had been disguised with brown paper, preventing you from reading the title of the book.

You set his wine glass on his coaster before sitting down next to him, keeping your glass in your hands. “What are you reading?” You asked quietly as you tucked your feet beneath you.

“Poems,” he answered, “be done in a minute.” He adjusted his hands so that he was holding the book with one hand and resting the other hand on your thigh, absentmindedly rubbing your bare skin with the pad of his thumb.

Surprisingly enough, Spencer was a touchy guy for someone who hated germs, but you supposed he trusted you enough. You lived together, you weren’t married, but the two of you never seemed bothered by that fact. “Take your time,” you responded, Spencer reading poetry took about as long as it took you to look through a pamphlet.

He said nothing in response, completely enthralled in the book.

Standing up, you let his hand fall from your thigh, “I’m going to go change,” you said, leaning over and kissing the top of his head, noting the way he hid the pages of the book from your view.

Shedding your work clothes, you changed into pajamas, throwing a sweatshirt over your tank top before returning to the living room.

Spencer had shifted positions on the couch, “Are you alright?” You asked him, hesitantly walking over to him. From the looks of it, he was on the same page he was on when you left.

He didn’t answer, prompting you to narrow your eyes, and reached over and plucked the book from his hands, “Hey!” He said reaching out for the book, but you lifted it just barely out of his reach, and he didn’t seem like he wanted to stand. Instead, he reached out for you, pulling you down onto his lap so that your legs were on either side of his lap.

You felt it before you saw it. Your eyes widened at the feeling of his hard cock pressing into your core, allowing your gaze to flicker up to his book that you were still holding. “Spencer, are you reading smut?” You asked, amusement clear in your voice.

“Technically, they’re called erotic poems,” he answered very matter-of-factly.

Grinning, you opened the book, “Oh, what a gentleman, reading his porn instead of watching it.” Briefly, you looked at the book, “’Of everything I have seen, it’s you I want to go on seeing’-“

Spencer squeezed your waist, “What will it take for you to stop?”

“’Of everything I’ve touched, it’s your flesh I want to go on touching,’” you continued anyway, leaning over his shoulder so you continue reading the book. Spencer took the opportunity to press gentle kisses up the side of your neck before focusing on the soft spot behind your ear, eliciting a soft moan from you.

You were well aware of the effect you were having on your boyfriend, feeling his dick twitch beneath you as you read to him.

Attempting to ignore the fact that Spencer had slipped his hands underneath your sweatshirt, touching your bare skin only at the sliver of skin between your tank top and your shorts. “’I love your orange laughter. I am moved by the sight of you sleeping.’” You read softly.

“Can I have my book back now?” He asked, his voice was an octave lower and his grip on your waist tightened, prompting you to grind your hips into him, “fuck, baby.”

Once Spencer started cursing, you were already past the point of no return. “What in this book got you so hard, huh? What were you thinking about doing to me?” You pulled away slightly and looked at him, his pupils dilated, and lips parted. “’License my roving hands, and let them go before, behind, above, below.’”

Spencer groaned and you knew you had hit your mark, he reached behind his head, trying to grab the book from your hands, but you stood up and backed away from him. “Stop there, baby. Okay?” He pleaded, causing you to flip the page.

“’I will bring you flowers from the mountains, bluebells, dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses,” You whispered, reading intently from the page. You could see why Spencer was so enamored with the words, you found yourself falling into the same rabbit hole. “Is this about...?” You started, but you couldn’t finish it.

He sighed exasperatedly, “I will do anything for you to forget I was interested in this.” He said, looking at you from the other side of the coffee table.

Intently, you eyed the next line in the poem, I want to do with you what Spring does with the cherry trees. “Is this what you want?” You asked him in earnest, “Do you want to do with me what the Spring does with the cherry trees?” You were breathing heavily as he scrambled to stand up. Walking backward away from him, you lifted the book back up and turned to the next page, “’I have scarcely left you, when you go in me, crystalline, or trembling, or uneasy, wounded by me, or overwhelmed with love, as when your eyes…’” you gasped as the book was swiftly knocked to the ground.

Backed into the wall, your gaze narrowed as Spencer caged you against the wall with one arm on either side of you. “I asked you to stop reading,” he murmured, ducking his head to attach his lips to your neck, following the column of your throat.

“If you wanted to knock me up so badly, all you needed to do was ask,” you spoke to him lowly, a small, throaty noise escaping your lips as his hands moved to creep up your sweatshirt.

Spencer hummed before pulling away from you just enough to pull the extra fabric over your head, placing his lips on yours as soon as he could. Your hands frantically tried to undo his tie, pulling on the silky fabric before tossing it to the floor and starting to work on the buttons of his shirt. “Needy,” he teased as he pulled away slightly to help you with his shirt.

You leaned back up to kiss him once his shirt was off, shuddering as his hand slid down your front, slipping underneath the waistband of your shorts and rubbing you over your panties, “Fuck, Spence.”

Grabbing at his shoulders to keep yourself upright, he pushed the fabric of your underwear to the side and circled your entrance with one finger at a tantalizingly slow pace. “You’re so wet,” he whispered, pressing his finger into your wet hole. “If you wanted me to knock you up so badly, you should’ve just asked,” he taunted.

Your walls clenched around his finger; it wasn’t enough – you needed more of him. He was turning this into a battle of wills, and your resolve was fading fast. Spencer tracked your cycle better than you did, but you did know you were ovulating. He knew it too.

“I want to hear you ask,” he said, slowly withdrawing his finger from your cunt before pushing two back in.

A small whimper slipped through your mouth, “Spence, ‘m ovulating,” you breathed, gasping for air as he thrust his fingers into you. You leaned your head forward onto him, landing on his bare chest.

“Why do you think I was reading those poems?” He asked.

Groaning, you muffled your moans in his chest, “You want to breed me? You want to-“ Your voice broke off into a yelp as he firmly pressed his thumb against your clit. “Do what the Spring does to the cherry trees. Fuck me, please. Come in me,” you begged mindlessly, any remaining willpower fading away as your orgasm built.

You whimpered as Spencer withdrew his fingers from your pussy. “Poor baby,” he whispered, “you need to be bred that badly?”

“Yes,” you answered breathlessly, grinning as Spencer crouched down to place his hands on the backs of your thighs, lifting your feet from the ground to move you to your bedroom.

He sat you down gently on the edge of the bed, pulling away from you and tugging your tank top over your head. You took the initiative to shuffle further onto the bed, watching intently as Spencer unbuckled his belt and let his pants fall to the floor, leaving him in only his boxers as he clambered onto the bed and hovered over you.

Lifting your head up slightly, you kissed him. It was gentle at first, but lust took over and the two of you grew frantic. Spencer moved his head, leaving big wet kisses down your neck before turning his attention to your breasts. Enveloping your peaked nipple in his mouth, he gently nipped at it with his teeth as his other hand rose to your unattended breast, pinching the small bud with his index finger and thumb.

Your hips inadvertently bucked up, just for them to be pushed back down by Spencer’s as he expertly continues his ministrations on your chest. It took all of your remaining focus to grind up into him, desperate for some kind of friction.

Spencer pulled his mouth from your breast and looked at you, holding your gaze as he tugged at your panties and pulled them off, carefully guiding your legs as he did so. “You’re so wet for me, baby,” he whispered. “You’ve got that little glint in your eye, and I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

“You have such a dirty mouth,” you tell him, still trying to steady your breathing. You looked down at him, kneeling between your legs, his brown eyes were completely lust-blown. You gasped as your boyfriend returned his fingers to your core, “Please.”

He hummed in response, slipping two fingers into your dripping heat as he watched your every reaction. Then, as if you had forgotten his intentions, he placed a hand on your abdomen and he started thrusting his fingers in and out of you, eliciting a moan from your lips.

Turning your head into the pillows, you reached around for something – anything – to grab as the orgasm you had been chasing all night finally approached. “Babe… come…” You managed to squeak out as your walls clenched around his fingers.

“Come for me, come on my fingers, baby,” he encouraged the climax out of you, and you knew he relished the way your eyes rolled back and your back arched off of the sheets. “Good girl,” he praised you softly, working you through your orgasm, his fingers moving at a slower pace.

Once you caught your breath, you propped yourself up on your elbows, smiling dazedly at him. You reached out and pawed at his boxers, “Off, please.” You said simply, your grin expanding as he maneuvered and removed the last remaining layer.

His pink cock stood at attention before you and you found yourself subconsciously biting your lip at the sight of it. “Tell me what you want,” he spoke lowly, reaching over to the other side of the bed and grabbing a pillow, lifting your hips off of the mattress and placing the pillow beneath them.

Your cheeks flushed, “Want you to fuck me.”

“Is that all?” He asked, raising his eyebrows at you suspiciously as he reached down to your cunt, gathering your slick on his fingers and using it to pump his cock.

Any and all resolve had gone completely out the window as you watched his hand move up and down his length, “Want you to breed me.” You told him earnestly, “Get me pregnant, put a baby in me. I-“ You paused for a moment, meeting his eyes carefully, “I want to have a baby with you, Spencer.”

That seemed to be enough for him as Spencer gently rubbed the tip up and down your slit before gently pushing in. “You’re so perfect,” he whispered to you softly, “like you were made for me.”

Once he had wholly sheathed himself inside of you, he gave you a moment to adjust and you savored the way you throbbed around him. “Move,” you breathed.

Swiftly, he hooked his arms beneath your knees and leaned over you, effectively folding you in half and pressing his cock impossibly deep into your cunt. Slowly, he pulled out halfway before pushing his hips back into yours, finding a rhythm.

“You’re so deep,” you whimpered. It was some inexplicable feeling; you could feel him everywhere. Inhaling sharply when he pulled out almost entirely before snapping them back into you, continuing that quick pace. “Harder,” you murmured, the only confirmation that he had heard you being the fact that he had begun pounding into you.

He let out a moan and you clenched around him in an attempt to encourage him to be vocal, “Fuck, I’m gonna come.” He continued his pace, lifting himself up so that he could run his hand down your body, “You’ll be so pretty pregnant with our baby.” He dropped one of your legs, opening your core ever so slightly more.

Your hips lifted up to meet his as he massaged one of your breasts with his free hand, “Come in me, make me a mommy,” you whispered, getting closer to your own orgasm as well.

Spencer’s hand dropped to your clit, rubbing small circles as he continued ruining your pussy. His rhythm staggered slightly, and his head dropped to the crook of your neck, groaning into your sweaty skin as he spilled his seed into you.

The heat of his cum in you hurtled you toward your second orgasm, bringing your hand to your mouth and biting the knuckle of your index finger as you came. You felt your tunnel spasming around Spencer’s now half-hard cock, unable to control any of it as your vision spun slightly.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked softly, pressing gentle kisses to your neck as he stayed still, effectively keeping his seed inside of you.

You nodded slowly, still trying to catch your breath.

He lifted himself up slightly, “Words, please.” He whispered to you, reaching up and brushing a strand of hair from your face.

Nodding again, you took a deep breath, “I’m good. Forgot to breathe.” Your voice was quiet as you reached your arms around Spencer, the aftershocks of your orgasm making their way through you. Softly, you skimmed your palms over Spencer’s back.

“Fuck, don’t do that,” he said, referring to the inadvertent clenching of his length. “I’ll get hard again.”

You hummed as if that wasn’t the worst thing in the world, rolling your hips up into his and gasping at the friction on your oversensitive heat. “Then let’s better our odds,” you whispered, resting your head back on the pillows and biting your lip as you noticed Spencer growing hard again while still inside you.

He moved slightly inside of you, pressing himself tightly inside of your pussy, “You’re going to be the death of me.” He whispered, “wanting me to pump you full of my cum.”

“Please, Spence,” you whimpered, tears growing in your eyes as he started to fuck you again. “You feel so good in me,” you told him, lifting your legs and wrapping them around his hips.

Spencer’s pace sped up at your encouragement, completely ravishing you, “gonna make you come around my cock again, gonna breed you.”

You had completely faded away to the point where the only noises in the room were the obscene squelching as Spencer pounded into you and small, hitched breaths that escaped your lips.

The third orgasm took you completely by surprise, you hadn’t felt the coil in your abdomen before it took you over and you wrapped your arms around Spencer as he fucked you through it, his pace refusing to cease until his hips stuttered again, his seed painting your insides white.

Your legs dropped from around his hips, falling to the sheets. Gently, Spencer pulled out of you, leaving you whining at both the sensitivity and the empty feeling.

“Are you crying? Did I hurt you?” He asked suddenly, fear filling his voice as he returned from his lust-filled state.

Shaking your head, you swallowed thickly, “Just sensitive. I’m alright, Spence.” You smiled softly at him, a breathy laugh escaping your lips.

He ruffled your hair affectionately, “What are you laughing about, darling?”

“I just understood what the pillow under my hips is functioning for,” you answered. A sort of ramp so that none of his cum spilled out of you – Spencer Reid never did anything halfway. Next to you, he was tugging his shirt back over his head, having already put his boxers back on. “How long do I have to stay like this?”

Spencer hummed before leaning over and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, “You’re not trapped there. You can move – as long as you’re feeling okay.” He spoke to you before walking out of the bedroom for just one moment, returning from the kitchen to find you sitting up in bed.

You thanked him as he handed you a glass of water, “I love you,” you whispered, reaching over, and intertwining your fingers.

He smiled at you fondly, “I love you too.”

“I do want it, you know. I know it’s been a while since we talked about a wedding and kids, but I do want that,” you told him candidly. “With you,” you added, for good measure.

Gently, Spencer sat down on the edge of the mattress, “Good,” he whispered, “because there’s a good chance that I just got you pregnant.”

Your cheeks flushed, “and if you didn’t, at least now we know we’ll enjoy ourselves trying.”

“And in the interim, what do you say we take a shower and then watch that movie?” He asked, smoothing your hair back before cupping your cheek with his hand.

Humming, you leaned into his touch, “A bath?” You negotiated, “I’m not sure I can stay standing for a shower.”

Spencer grinned before leaning forward to kiss you, “I’ll go get the water running.”

please remember to like, reblog, and/or comment if you enjoyed!

[shadow4-1]

I'm just imagining helping Gaz upgrade the firewalls on the personal tech of the 141, and accidentally catching glimpses of their search history.

Like, it's not like you're actively trying to look. But the program you're updating has to check all of the websites/servers the 141 has been perusing. If anything is compromised you need to know, Laswell needs to be informed, etc.

Despite his name, Soap's history is bar far the dirtiest and most extensive. His searches consist of pretty much everything that a normal weirdo guy would look up. You're able to ignore most of it but you notice he'd cleared part of his browser data at some point and well...you couldn't help yourself. You check and immediately regret it.

public airsoft fuck

gun tongue fucking

military boot cock stepping

You can't bear to see any more so you delete the rest of his search data for him and move on.

Gaz's search history is surprisingly very normal. You almost snort at how much of a difference it is compared to Soap's. You also come to the realization that he probably already cleared and deleted his history. Then you also realize he probably knows you're looking at everyone's history and probably chose to leave these behind. You feel your face grow hot as you glance down the very short list.

best friends bestfriend blowjob

next door neighbor anal

massage porn

You huff and keep going, next is Price. You breathe a sigh of relief, he only has a couple searches and none of them have demeaning expletives in them. You spare them a passing glance.

Paddling adult film

Thigh high models

You raise a brow. Thigh high models, you could understand, but "paddling"? Like...spanking? With a paddle? You swallow thickly and shake your head. The shibari makes you wince too. Figuring out your Captain was into rope bondage and spanking was too much knowledge for one person.

Shibari classes near me

And, just like you'd expected, Ghost had no search history. You breathe a sigh of relief and do a sweep of the rest of his phone. Nothing. No recently viewed caches, cookies, pictures, or anything. The phone was so well taken care of it might as well have been brand new. You went back to the main browsing page, but before you could close out the app, you notice the page has a bookmark. You open up the bookmark tab and low and behold, there's two links. They look shady but you check them out anyway.

The first one is a cam site. The host of the channel is offline, but judging by their many saved livestreams, they're very active. You decide to turn back, but a very specific thumbnail catches your eye. It's the cammer, but with their mouth stuffed full of a random man's cock. It wouldn't have stopped you in your tracks if a) the man's leg tattoo didn't look so familiar and b) if the cammer didn't look suspiciously like you.

You immediately clear all of the data on the phone, essentially factory resetting it. When Gaz comes back into the tech closet you shove at his chest. He just chuckles and shrugs.

You're never doing this again.

[alastor-simp]

Horror Movie Night😈 - Alastor x Reader

Charlie wanted to find an activity to bring everyone together, since a lot of the personalities in the hotel would clash. She had made a list of ideas, but majority of them were turn down for being too childish. The last option was a movie night with everyone, and surprisingly everyone agreed. The genre of movie was the real problem. Charlie wanted a musical. Vaggie had a preference for drama. Angel dust preferred either a steamy flick (aka porn) or comedy. Niffty voted for romance. Husk didn't really care, but he wouldn't be upset if it was an action movie. Sir Pentious was interested in historical / documentaries. Alastor was not a big fan of modern technology especially television, but he would give it a try if the movie was a horror. You enjoyed all genres of movies, so it didn't matter which one you saw. Coming up with an idea, you suggested pulling a name out of the hat, to decide the genre of movie that gets picked. Borrowing Husk's hat for a bit, everyone wrote their name on a piece of paper and tossed it in. After a quick shake, you grabbed the first piece of paper and pulled it out.

Yelp, looks like it was going to be a horror movie as Al's was the name you pulled out. Everyone had made their way to the couch, while some of them sat on the floor. They were all dressed in their pajamas. Niffty had made popcorn and drinks for everyone to enjoy during the movie. Charlie was lighting some candles to add some effect when the movie was playing. Next to you on the couch was Alastor. He was wearing a red stripped top, and black lounge pants. He seemed very cozy. "Hey Al. What movie did you pick?" Alastor looked at you, smiling big as always. 'Well my dear, I picked whatever seemed interesting! I hope you will enjoy it!" Giving an awkward smile back, your eyes turned toward the TV as soon as Charlie pressed play. You didn't mind horror movies, but being the scaredy cat that you were, they still made you scream.

The movie that Alastor picked was "The Descent." The start of the film was a bit slow, but it slowly began to build up overtime. It got to the point in the movie where the characters had entered into the large cave, to explore. Yeah, that was already a red flag. Scanning your eyes around the room, you took in everyone's reactions. Charlie and Vaggie were hugging the life out of each other. Niffty was smiling, but she was clutching on to her plushie very tightly. Angel was on edge and tried to cling on to Husk, only to be pushed back by him. Angel huffed and decided to a least grab Husk's hand for comfort, and Husk allowed that at least. Sir Pentious was cowering on the floor, wrapping his whole tail around him. Alastor was just smiling next to you, obviously enjoying where the movie was going. You, on the other hand, was getting a very bad feeling in your stomach as the characters kept exploring the cave. The pillow that you were holding was being used as a shield as you kept hiding behind it, waiting for something to happen.

The climax of the movie had arrived when the grotesque bat-like monster had made an appearance and proceeded to feast on one of the characters. Everyone in the room had screamed and jumped, including you, as you covered your face with the pillow. There was a chuckle to your right as Alastor was laughing, at both the movie and your adorable reactions. From the start of the film, Al was seeking glances at you, wondering what your next reaction would be. The face you made when the dread set in was highly entertaining to him. However, he did pity you a bit, as he could see that the movie was frightening you tremendously. Unbeknownst to you, you felt someone drape their arm behind your shoulders, pulling your body closer towards them. Looking up from the pillow, it was clear that it was Al who had done it. His eyes were still watching the movie, clearly enjoying the gruesome moments. Not saying a word, you continued to watch the movie, but the feelings of fear had diminished a bit due to Alastor's actions. The movie had finally ended, as the credits began to flash on the screen. Everyone gave a sigh of relief, except Al . Clapping with glee, he found the movie quite invigorating. Vaggie rolled her eyes at him, while whispering "creepy weirdo" under her breath. It had gotten super late, so it was time to head for bed.

Wishing everyone a good night sleep, you carried yourself back to your room, despite the prickling sensation that you felt crawling up your back. That movie was still on your mind, but you tried to push the fear away. Alastor was following from behind , since the both of you were next door neighbors. "Feeling alright, my dear? That picture show had you shaking like a leaf!" He was definitely smirking when he said that. "No s✪✪✪, Sherlock." Grumbling your response back at him, you continued to make your way to your cozy abode. Having arrived at the door, you turned to Al, who had just arrived at his door. "Good night, Alastor." "You as well, my dear!" Making over to the bed, you laid down and got under the covers, adjusting yourself to get comfortable. It took a while, but the droopy feeling had taken effect on your eyes, and you fell into a deep sleep. Pitch blackness was all around you. The muscles in your body felt like they had been ripped apart. The air felt heavy, almost dry like you were underground. Something was moving around you, circling you, watching you. The monstrous sounds it made created a haunting echo. You begged your body to respond, it was no use. The sounds were coming closer. No. NO! You bellowed out a scream.

"Y/N!!" Someone was shaking you, causing your eyes to snap open. Your body was shaking and there were tears in your eyes. You slowly realized that you had a nightmare. Alastor was in front of you, hands on top of your shoulders. His glowing eyes eyeing you with concern, yet his smile was still present. "A-Al? W-what's wrong? W-why are you in m-my room?" Struggling out a response, your eyes looked at Al in confusion. "My dear, I had heard your shrieks of terror and rushed over! It appeared you were having a nightmare! A rather horrible one at that!" He was still holding on to you, which gave you some comfort. "Oh, I'm so sorry if I disturbed your sleep." Taking in a few deep breaths, helped tremendously as you were able to talk properly and control the shaking. Shaking his head, Al had let go of your shoulders, and moved his hands to your cheeks. "Darling, there is no need for you to apologize! But, may I ask what were you dreaming about?" Massaging your cheeks like a cat, Al smiled down at you, softness in his eyes. Explaining it in full detail, Al realized that the film you had witness, was the main cause of the night terror. He had known that you were scared, but not to the point it would result in you kicking and screaming in your sleep. He needed to rectify this.

"Come along, my dear!" Your body left the sanctity of your bed, and ended up in Alastors arms. He was carrying you like a bride. "W-what Al?! Where are you taking me?!" Whispering at him, while your brain was trying to wrap around this situation. Cocking his head to the side, he gave you an optimistic smile. "To my room!" There was no time to refute back as the both of you had arrived at his door. Creaking loudly, the door to his room had opened by itself. His room was like something out of a story book. One side was the normal room decor, illuminated with candle light. The walls were plastered with Alastor's personal trinkets and stag heads. The other side was saturated in moss, tall pine trees looming above. Chirps of crickets could be heard and glowing fireflies were flying around. Eyes widening in amazement, you continued to gaze around the room, earning a laugh from Al. In the center of the room, was an enormous bed, covered in satin sheets and black pillows. "How... How were you able to do this?" You breathed out, as Al placed you on the bed. Raising an eyebrow, he smiled down at you, wagging his finger. "Ah ah ah! A magician never reveals his secrets, my dear!" A thought popped in your head: "Where was he going to sleep." Snapping his fingers, Alastor used his powers to snuff out the flames from the candles, leaving only the fireflies as a source of light. Realization hit you, causing you to jump off the bed, leaving Al staring at you in confusion. "Wait Al! Are you okay with this? Sharing a bed?" Alastor looked at you, head crooked to the side. "Why of course! Are you oppose to the idea? Haven't you had your share of sleepovers with the effeminate spider?" Well yes you had, but this situation was different. "I'm not opposed to it, but I don't want you to do something you aren't comfortable with." You told Alastor this, rubbing your arm with your hand.

He was still befuddled by your statement until he began to wrap his head around of what you were saying. How charming you were! Thinking of him and his aversion to physical contact. "Darling, There is no need to worry." His body moved to crawl under the covers, sitting on the bed and looking at you. His finger pointed towards you, beckoning for you to return back to the bed. Still hesitant about the whole situation and observing his body language, it came to your decision that he was really okay with it. Your feet carried you back over, and slowly made its way under the covers, plopping your head on the pillow. Al huffed, a little annoyed that you didn't follow his instructions. He grabbed your wrist, pulling you towards him. Your head was engulfed in his chest, feeling his chin, nuzzling it. "Comfortable, Y/N?" A warm breath whispered into your ear. His voice sent chills down your back, while also causing your heart to skip a beat. "Mmph" was your response, as your mouth was muffled against his chest. Hearing a hum from above, you felt Alastor nestle closer, hooking his leg over yours. The static emanating from him had quieted down and the thumping sound of his heart sounded much clearer. Extending out a yawn, your eyelids began droop while listening to the calming sound of Al's heartbeat. Soon, your eyelids had closed and you fell into a deep sleep.

Managing to stay awake, Al had watched you, making sure you were able to relax. He never in a million years thought he would be doing something like this. He was the radio demon, the most fearsome and all powerful overlord. Everyone trembled in fear from the sight of him, yet here he was now, cuddling you in his bed. He was getting soft, which displeased him greatly, yet he couldn't help but find it comforting as well. Your very-being was changing him, in both a good and bad way. Sighing, he pushed his thoughts away as he had a busy schedule tomorrow and needed to be well rested for his broadcast. Nuzzling closer, Alastor hugged you tighter. His glowing eyes dimmed and he had fallen asleep as well.

[joeloverture]

hook 'em horny | j.m. x f!reader

masterlist : coach!joel masterlist pairing: college football coach!joel miller x reader summary: [no outbreak] seeking petty revenge on your cheating quarterback ex-boyfriend leads you somewhere you shouldn't be — and then it lands you over the knee of his coach. warnings: (18+ mdni, don't make me say it again.) cheating done by a referenced oc, briefest mention of drugs, porn barely garnished with plot, age gap (22/52), smut, unprotected piv sex, creampie, vaginal fingering, potentially dubcon by way of power imbalance but consent is enthusiastic, daddy kink, sir kink, 'punishment' spanking, degradation, praise, brat tamer!joel, dom!joel, joel spits on her ass but otherwise no butt stuff, mild choking, body writing, so many pet names of so many varieties, aftercare, surprisingly fluffy [no use of y/n] word count: 6.4k a/n: this is a crazy idea to have considering joel can hardly handle ellie. i don't think he'd be able to handle ~118 college-aged boys. however, the idea of football coach! joel is hot to me (i mean, seriously, look at those sluts on the sidelines) so i made it happen. on a serious note, i am so sorry to the unnamed university this is based on. i toured you. i'm legacy. but... joel miller. let's make it clear this is for entertainment purposes only. this is a fictional work about fictional people that does not reflect the school itself, which is a fine institution whose head coaches historically do not fuck students in the locker rooms. shoutout to my dad who, unknowing what this information would be used for, explained to me how he snuck into this stadium 3x. don't do that, either.

You can’t even remember the last time you made a good decision.

Your track record definitely isn’t the cleanest: you chose to go to school in Texas, and then chose to stay there for four years. Choosing to go to that frat party in late junior year wasn’t your brightest moment, either, evidenced by the resulting hangover from hell and, predictably, frat flu. All things considered, those choices pale in comparison to hooking up with their all-star quarterback, Lucas Scott.

Dirty-blonde, blue-eyed, muscled Lucas Scott. He’s the sort of guy who looks like an eight when you’re looking at him after a few shots of tequila and a four when you’re sober. The sort of guy who, after over a year of dating, makes you split the bill halfway after ordering the more expensive entree. Crowned as the most efficient, precise, and instinctive quarterback the Longhorns have ever had. Apparently that instinct hadn’t been enough to drive him away from dipping his wick in every sorority girl’s candle wax. 

No matter how much post-orgasm Lucas panted into his ear that he loved you, you weren’t stupid enough to trick yourself into believing it. Staying with him was the easier choice, not yet wanting to reduce yourself to locker room talk. Walking in on him sloppily fucking some redhead nursing major was the breaking point. When it became less about you and more about your dignity.

So, yeah, you’ve never been one for making good decisions, and you certainly aren’t about to start now.

You thought breaking into the stadium would be some sort of monumental task. Trespassing here was normally reserved for campus rooftops and after-hours exploration, but once you’d gotten this batshit crazy idea in your head, you knew it wasn’t going to shake until you at least proved it couldn’t be done.

The open garage at the back of the building doesn’t help to deter you. It’s like there’s a welcome-mat outside saying, ‘Come on in and get what you deserve!’.

Who would you be to decline such a sincere invitation?

The garage is empty apart from some cushy golf carts, and the steel door behind them couldn’t be more tempting. If it’s locked, you tell yourself, you’ll go back to the dorm and forget about your incident of near-trespassing. 

You take small steps to the door, testing the handle. It springs right open, and all thoughts of leaving dissipate from your mind.

Who leaves the garage open and forgets to lock the door? Probably people with just as little between their ears (and legs) as Lucas. You scoff in half-disbelief, half-luck as you close the door behind you.

The energy feels stagnant this late at night, no announcer on the loudspeaker or swarms of burnt orange hats and T-shirts standing shoulder-to-shoulder. Industrial lights flicker above, their hums loud enough to make you wonder if you have tinnitus. Concrete lines the hallways, interrupted by a few silver-painted pipes arranged in a labyrinth up against the walls. A few security cameras are pointed at you. Before going any further, you pause to raise the hood of your Longhorns sweatshirt.

Even if you should be, you aren’t in much of a rush; you amble about, really taking in the sterile ambiance of the empty stadium. You turn a few corners, going in what feels like the right direction. You figure you’re getting closer when you spot what looks like it could be a security tower. Crouching behind a trash can, you wait it out, trying to peer through the untinted windows to figure out if there’s anyone in there at all. When you’ve determined it’s unmanned and let out a shallow exhale, you go back up to full posture and keep wandering around unsupervised.

You know you’re in the right place when you find your toes hovering over a red line painted on the oil-stained concrete: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT. 

Bingo.

Crossing that line without really thinking about it, you stick to your (so far) tried and true method of going wherever feels the most promising until you’re standing in front of the two black doors you were looking for. The door’s handle is an obnoxiously large longhorn, and you quite literally have to hook ‘em to get inside.

You’re starting to understand where the rest of the university’s funding is going when you walk into the locker room. After dating Lucas for a year, you know the football team is full of itself, but the Longhorniness of it all is… excessive. There’s the silhouette of the logo glowing on the goddamn ceiling, and if the jerseys the players are wearing on their digital nameplates isn’t enough of an indicator of who they play for, every backlit locker has a drawer with, you guessed it: a longhorn painted at the center. A brown vinyl couch wraps around the front of the room in direct view of a powered down videoboard that you can only assume replays highlight reels.

You roll your eyes. Again, your track record with decision-making isn’t the best, because you chose a school who puts every penny towards sweaty frat boys with brain damage from the amount of concussions they get.

And then you see it: a sign tacked onto the middle aisle of lockers that reads CORE VALUES. From top to bottom, HONESTY, TREAT WOMEN WITH RESPECT, NO DRUGS, NO STEALING, and NO WEAPONS. You have to physically clamp your jaw shut to restrict your laughter at the second one.

It doesn’t take you long to find what you’re looking for. Lucas Scott, #10.

His sweat-stained jersey hangs limply from the rack, and you eagerly tear it off, tossing it down onto the floor. Eager like a child ready to color outside the lines of a coloring book, you kneel down in front of it, pulling out the one thing you had prepared for tonight. A bold black Sharpie.

You pop the cap with your teeth, spitting it out somewhere on the floor as you start scribbling. Disguising your handwriting isn’t intentional, but you’re writing so carelessly and on such a foreign material that it comes naturally. Your tongue sticks out of the corner of your mouth as you work. In a year and a half, you’d never felt such satisfaction about — and certainly not from  — Lucas.

TWO PUMP CHUMP along the side. FIVE INCHES FULL MAST on the other. CHEATER at the bottom. WHORE across the front.

A throat clears behind you. You drop the Sharpie, a blot of ink forming on the mesh. You startle backwards, scooting until your back hits that stupid longhorn drawer. You’re expecting a janitor, maybe a security guard if you’re extra unlucky. 

That isn’t the worst of your options, apparently, because when you look up, it’s at Joel fucking Miller, head coach of the longhorn’s football team.

Your lower lip starts trembling, and that moment is when you decide maybe you need to start making good decisions. You’ve heard enough about Joel from Lucas to know he’s a total hardass. He could drag you by the ear to the dean and have you kicked out at the tail end of your second to last semester in this hellhole.

He glares down at you with his head cocked, hazel eyes far darker than they ever seem on TV. His scruff stipples his hardened jawline, lips thinned out like the worry lines pressed onto his forehead. If you were interested in digging yourself any deeper, you might stall to think about how good he looks: the faint trail of chest hair vanishing down into the neckline of his longhorns polo shirt, his fitted khakis, broad leather belt slung around his waist, and the slight bulge of tummy above it. You swallow hard and kick yourself for it.

“What exactly,” Coach Miller drawls, voice syrupy and sticky. “do ya think you’re doin’?”

Your mouth moves, but no words come out. He doesn’t seem very amused, his muscled arms crossing over his wide torso.

Joel shakes his head. “Ain’t a good look for you, hun, scrawlin’ that chicken scratch all over my QB’s jersey. Could get a real ugly charge for that.”

Heart crashing into your ribcage, you bite down on your lip. “I can pay the damages,” you blurt out.

He sizes you up all over again, eyes dragging up and down your body. They linger on your chest for a few extra seconds that you’re convinced that you just made up. “Can you, sugar? ‘Cause to me, looks like you’re the type to be chasin’ tips at whatever joint hires you.”

You don’t have the bandwidth to be as offended as you should be, especially because he’s right. You settle for glowering at him instead. A huff of laughter pinches out of him. “You give everyone you vandalize that blue look? Or is that lil’ number jus’ because you found out Lucas really ain’t that loyal?” With ease, Joel bulldozes over whatever thinning resolve you have remaining. 

“What’s that sign over there say? ‘Treat women with respect’?” You say. Joel’s backlit like all of those over budgeted lockers behind him. You squint your eyes. “You know that’s fucking bullshit. So what if I give him a taste of his own medicine when he’s been a minute man for every girl with a pulse on this campus?” You cap your Sharpie and clip it back onto your collar and get to your feet. So much for good decisions. “Fuck right off with that.”

“Hey, hey. Down, hun.” Joel holds his hands out to you, and you notice just how heavily you’ve been breathing, just how close you are to him. “Never said you were wrong. Kid’s a fuck up in all sorts ‘a ways. But I don’t like how you’re mouthin’ off at me, Miss Priss. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re in dire need of a spankin’ to set you right.”

Your breath cuts short and your cunt bottoms out without your permission. You don’t need a mirror to know your eyes just went glassy, your lips parted as your mouth goes desert dry. As discreetly as you can manage, you squeeze your thighs together.

Joel doesn’t miss it. You can tell from the moment his brows raise and his eyes sparkle, the corner of his mouth picking up a smidge. “Oh, yeah? That do somethin’ for ya, hun? Nasty little girl.” There’s a dangerous, uneven grit to his voice that has arousal burning like a candle in your stomach, the wax of your arousal syrupy against your thighs already. 

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. Fuck.

“No,” you breathe out stubbornly, but you’ve already given yourself away, even to yourself. The insides of your thighs are molten, twitching with every throb of your clit between your legs. That flush of warmth from your pelvis is spreading, overheating.

Joel tuts. “You really think that? You can whine all you want ‘bout wantin’ respect, but at the end ‘a the day, you just wanna be treated like some whore, huh?” And, yeah, he has you figured out, has you in the palm of his hand. Even though you have no idea what someone like him could do to someone like you, you want him to do it. You want to find out. “I’ll tell ya what, sugar, you walk outta here right now and nobody but me’s gonna know you came pitchin’ a hissy fit in my locker room.”

You frown at that, a small arc of your pouty lips that has Joel’s eyes gleaming.

“Or,” he says. “You can pull those wet fuckin’ panties down – don’t gimme that look, I know they are – and I can give ya a real lesson in respect.” He shrugs, hands going to his waist as he looks you up and down.

He knows he has you the same way you know, but you aren’t just going to give in that easily. You flare your nose and counter, “If there’s nothing keeping me here other than a firm hand, why should I stay?”

He’s looking at you like he wants to take you apart. His fingers jump against his hips for the opportunity to break you down. 

“Sweetness,” Joel shakes his head as if it’s obvious. “if you let me, I could make you feel good. I’m guessin’ you got some vibrator sittin’ in the back of your desk drawer to use when your roommate’s out ‘n about, but you don’t wanna use that tonight, do ya? You want the real thing, hun, and I’d give it to ya real nice once I teach ya to behave.”

There it is again: Coach Joel Miller has you all figured out. Every syllable he says is doomed to send another shiver up your spine, and damn it, fuck playing coy.

You’re too busy tearing off your hoodie to think about how unsexily dressed you are, but the rushed nature of your actions punches a chuckle out of Joel. “Eager thing.” You’re halfway through kicking your shoes and leggings off when he saunters over to the couch, plopping down on the edge and patting his broad, khaki-covered thigh. Your mouth waters when you look back and see just how much the fabric strains against his leg. “Whenever you’re ready, hun.”

You waddle over to him, stripped down to the basics of your sports bra and everyday panties. It’s the furthest thing from erotic, but the way he’s looking at you isn’t. It’s primal and ravenous, enough to have you forgetting all about how you’d even gotten there in the first place. He licks his lips as he trails his eyes all over you, darkening a couple of shades when he looks at your cleavage. “Lucas is a fuckin’ idiot, baby.”

“Knew that already,” you mumble.

He pats his thigh again, bounces his leg. “C’mon, over my knee like the good girl I know you can be. Hurry up and I’ll only give ya five.”

You shuffle forward, relishing in the rubbing of your thighs that comes from it. He’s sitting on the corner of the couch at the perfect angle for you to rest your head on the arm. It doesn’t take any more convincing for you to put yourself over his lap, not that he needed to do much in the first place. You feel so much smaller than him. Your ass is up for him to do whatever he’d like to; it’s a tantalizing feeling you hadn’t gotten out of any intimacy – if you could call it that — with Lucas.

“Mmmmmm,” Joel groans as he runs a hand between your legs. He rubs at your slit through the soaked gusset of your panties. You can’t stop the way your hips buck, or the pitiful shout that jumps off your lips when he pins you down by the small of your back, robbing you of any friction. Between one arousal-riddled breath and the next, Joel tugs your panties off and flings them to the side. You know how it feels, tacky and cold on your core and thighs, so you can only imagine how it must look. Joel gives you a pretty good idea when he reveres, “Goddamn, pretty cunt is throbbin’ for it.”

He pulls apart your folds and you think you hear him lick his lips above you before he lets them go. The schlick noise your dripping pussy makes is nothing less than pornographic. Joel gropes you carefully, kneads the skin of your ass like you have all the time in the world. Under his ministrations, it’s easy to melt into the couch, forgetting why you’re there in the first place until his palm cracks down on your ass cheek.

The stinging impact has a slurred hnnnngh leaving your lips, and a fresh gush of wetness between your legs to accompany it. You keep your head tucked into the sanctuary of your folded arms, eyes squeezed shut so tight you swear you’re seeing stars. Joel’s quick to rub the spanked patch of skin, his palm soothing his ache. “That’s one, baby.” You nod into your arms. “Think you can take four more?” Another nod.

“I need to hear ya, hun. C’mon, head up f’me.” He taps the side of your cheek, and you prop your cheek up on your forearm. “Think you can take four more?” he repeats.

Your voice hitches, courtesy of the beating that echoes in your chest and between your legs. “Y-yes…” 

When the second hit lands, you don’t expect it. You flinch away from his hand when it comes down with a clap that leaves you squirming in his lap. “Yes, what?”

“Yes sir,” you whine out, back arching. Although a punishment, that spank has the same effect as the last: a live wire of arousal strung from your spine to your cunt.

“Takin’ it well,” he praises, squeezing your ass cheeks together. “Sure didn’t expect anyone to come crawlin’ in when I left that garage open, ‘specially not some slut like you with an ass that needs a spankin’ six ways to Sunday.” Just as quick as he can build you up, he can take you down a notch, but you can’t mind when it has you moaning all the same. “Oh, she likes that,” Joel clicks.

He rubs your ass again, and you’re bracing yourself for that next strike, pulled stiff with an arousing, anticipatory sort of fear. Only when you convince yourself it isn’t coming do you let all of that tension flood out of your body — and that’s when Joel smacks his hand across your far-too-trustworthy ass.

You cry out, pouting over your shoulder at Joel, who has a proud smirk drawn all over his face. You don’t even feel your hips rocking down, seeking whatever pleasure you can get until he reprimands, “Ruttin’ against my fuckin’ leg, now, huh? Don’t pretend you don’t like this.”

With a particularly good grind of your hips, you feel his bulge pressing into your thigh. From a mere graze alone, you can tell it’s huge. A whimper tears out of you at the same time he groans above you. “You got nothin’ to prove, ain’t gonna change the fact you’re a slut who needs to get spanked ‘n stuffed to talk ‘er into behavin’ a bit.”

“Can’t even follow your own rules,” you huff, apparently still interested in shooting yourself in the foot even when Coach Miller has you ass-up over his knee. 

“Don’t see how you care…” Joel slides a hand down between your legs. He rubs at your clit, an intense pressure that has you wanting more and less all at the same time, before dragging a thick finger across your opening. Arousal squelches between your legs and your hips jump – a dead giveaway to just how turned on you are, whether you like it or not. “when it gets you this turned on,” he finishes. Then that same finger is prodding at your mouth, glistening with your wetness. You whimper before tasting yourself, sucking obediently on his finger until he pulls away with a pop.

You sulk, “Don’t act like I can’t feel you ripping a hole in your jeans, Miller–”

The fourth spank is the hardest by far. The skin of your ass feels bitten by Joel’s ‘firm hand’. It’s the kind of hit that makes your legs kick in his lap and your fingers clutch in the couch’s arm for purchase. You wail, “Daddy!” Pain disappears from your mind when you realize what exactly you just said, quickly replaced by the churning coolant of embarrassment. If you were paying attention to anything else other than the shame suddenly inhabiting your chest, you might’ve been able to feel the twitch of his cock in his pants.

“Daddy, huh?” Joel hums, rubbing your hurt ass with one hand while the other strokes your shoulder. You bury your face back in your arms as an apology takes shape in the back of your throat. “Lucas your daddy, too?”

“No!” You squeak, adjusting in his lap. The hood of your clit catches on the rough material of Joel’s pants. Unable to stop yourself, you hump his knee again, shallow rolls of your hips. You can still feel his hardness against you. Needily, you tip your head up, panting as foggy pleasure hangs over your head. 

“Stop makin’ a mess of daddy’s dress pants, baby, unless you wanna be on your knees, lickin’ it up.” You keen, and he chuckles knowingly. “Shoulda known, little whore like you gets off on that.” 

Joel gives you a longer reprieve between the fourth and fifth spank. Instead, he strokes your ass and asks, “One more gonna be enough to set you straight, sweetheart?”

“Y..yes daddy,” you whimper. He hums in approval.

You shift back and forth, waiting for it to come — and when it does, it’s softer. It’s by no means a love pat, but it pales in comparison to his previous work. You still sniffle, squeezing your thighs together as he coos, “I know, I know. Poor baby, actin’ all high ‘n mighty. Can’t be on her high horse when she’s over Daddy’s knee.” Gentle, he pats your ass and guides you on all fours at the edge of the couch. He hums in approval. “See? Not throwin’ a hissy fit anymore. She’s all nice ‘n obedient when you get ‘er to act right.”

Joel spreads your pussy with his thumbs, and you hear the vulgar noise of him collecting his saliva before you feel his spit landing on your clenching hole. You’ve never felt so empty, not when your bottom drawer vibrator is buzzing against your core, definitely not when Lucas fucks you in the same old missionary. Whimpering for him, you arch your back to try to rub against his crotch.

“Quit your whinin’,” he snips, his thumb finding your clit in one swipe. Joel’s touch is firm, but not too firm, just enough to make your hips push down with a need only he’s ever made you feel. 

Without warning, his middle finger slides inside of you, thick and calloused and so, so right. “Fuckin’... tight.” Another slides in as he starts scissoring you open, apparently satisfied enough when he crooks his fingers deep in your cunt. Instantly, he catches that spongy spot that you can never reach on your own. You nearly crumple with the sensation, limbs going weak and buckling. “That the spot?” he asks, but he already knows.

“Mhm,” you moan, chin instinctively tucking against your chest as if you can get away from the pleasure he’s giving you, as if you’d ever want to.

Then — he stops.

His fingers sit heavy inside of you, so close to where you need them to go. “What the fuck, Joel?” 

"Baby, s’that how you get what you want?” He rubs your thigh with his free hand and gives it a quick swat. “Help daddy out, tight girl. I'm not just gonna let you get away with bein’ a spoiled brat. Work yourself on my fingers."

You’re putty in the palm of his hand – malleable, docile for him to treat or mistreat you however gets him hard. You whine, punching your hips back nonetheless. Grinding down, down, down, your cunt unresisting when he gives you another finger. It’s crude, the way you moan for him.

Even though he’s hardly doing anything, just the hand you’re getting yourself off on, that all-consuming strain in your body only gets stronger. “Daddy – close, please…”

 “Attagirl, atta-fuckin’-girl, give it to me.” He rewards you with a press of his fingers against that golden spot inside of you. Your orgasm splinters through you, an ecstasy-charged mist fanning over your body. Your release runs down Joel’s hand and your thighs with every clench of your cunt, like you’ve been skinned and set ablaze by your own desire. You fall forward on the couch, no longer able to hold yourself up, arms a tangled mess as you gasp into the cushion. “You come so pretty, baby. Messy pussy, too. Soaked me up to my goddamn elbow.”

You’re still reeling from the best orgasm you’ve had in months, maybe ever, when you hear obscene slurping noises from behind you. You cast a look at him, your arousal returning with a vigor at the sight of Joel sucking his fingers clean. He groans at the taste, and you swear you see his cock jump in his khakis. Stomach warped with desire, you’re about to plummet off of the very dangerous edge of doing just about anything for him right now.

“Please fuck me, daddy,” you plead, and in any other position, with any other person, it might be mortifying, something worth clutching your pearls over. But this is Coach Joel Miller, the last person you ever expected to be fucking, giving you the best fuck you never expected.

“There’s those manners,” Joel praises, leaning over you to press a brief kiss to your shoulder blade. You can smell your release on his lips, a sweet smell that’s so distinctly you. He eases off of you, presumably to take off his pants. There’s the shuffling of fabric, and when he returns to your side, you’re disappointed to find he hasn’t even unbuckled his belt.

You pout at him again, still desperate to get your way. Eye-level with his bulge, you’re salivating over it. You had made a mess of his dress pants, a wet spot formed just above his knee, taunting you. You lick your lips. 

“Think it’s only fair,” he says, looming over you. He’s holding the Sharpie you’d brought along with you. Your brows furrow as you look up at him through your lashes. “If I give ya the same treatment you gave his jersey.” His gaze is cocky as he pops the cap with his thumb, giving the marker a twirl.

Oh.

It shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does. Nothing about this should turn you on as much as it does, yet here you are, in a puddle of your own sweat and cum, itching for the next thing he gives you. And if it’s marking up your body before he fucks your brains out, so be it.

He nudges his head, gesturing for you to get down on your stomach. You lift your knees up and flatten yourself out on the cushions. The vinyl sticks and pulls from your skin as you get where he wants you. A soft, surprised noise leaves you when he straddles your thighs, his clothed cock nudging at your seam.

“Holy fuck,” you breathe out, because it’s the only phrase you can think of that even holds a candle to what all of this has become. 

A laugh fans out from under his breath as he starts at your freshly spanked, raw ass. The Sharpie is cold and foreign, tugging at your skin as he inks you up. “Gotta make sure you match before I dick you down, don’t I? What is it you wrote on his jersey? ‘Whore’? Between the two ‘a ya, I woulda put my money on you for that one.”

If that wasn’t enough indication, you figure out what he’s doing by the time he gets to the right cheek, what feels like an ‘R’ taking shape across your ass. He finishes the ‘E’ and sets down the Sharpie for a moment, his meaty palms spreading your ass. It still thrums with the afterglow of his spanking. You don’t think you can throb any more than you already are, but then he spits on you for the second time that night, this time landing it on your puckered asshole. A gasp flutters from your lips as you grind down into the couch, his spit dripping down your folds.

“See? Real whorish, fuckin’ my couch.” He taps your ass for good measure. “Asshole makes a perfect fuckin’ ‘O’, baby. Looks a whole lot better than that chicken scratch shit you put on his jersey.” You think maybe, just maybe, he’ll dismount you and pull his cock out, but instead he keeps writing, scribbling on your back and upper thighs. Every pull of your skin under the bleeding ink has you aching for him.

When he’s content with his work, he lifts off of you, hands fumbling to undo his belt. It snaps apart, dangling open around his waist as his hands open up his khakis. “You let Lucas fuck that sweet lil’ cunt raw?” he asks.

“No, I don’t,” you admit, unable to tear your eyes away from his cock as he pulls it out, and fuck you. Your eyes don’t even feel big enough to take all of him in, and you have no idea how you’re going to fit him between your legs. You almost go cross-eyed at the sight of it, his head leaking precum.

“Thought so. You gonna let me fuck it raw?”

“Yes, daddy,” you breathe out, drool pooling in your mouth at the thought of having him inside of you, having him inside of you bare. Yet another thing you never gave to Lucas in a year of disappointing sex, but are eagerly giving up to Joel. 

“Gotta be a real nasty slut,” Joel says, returning to his place atop your thighs, his thick ones framing yours. Your breath hitches when you feel the weight of his cock gliding through your ass cheeks and down to your cunt. “to let your ex-boyfriend’s coach bareback ya in the locker room.” A heady gasp tears from you when the head of his cock bumps your clit. He teases you — his cock, slippery with a combination of your arousal, skating from your clit to your spasming opening, not quite nudging in.

“Daddy, please – I need it… need you to fuck me, fuck me–”

He doesn’t make you wait any longer.

When he pushes in, it knocks the air out of your lungs. The only proof that you’re still breathing is when you let out a pitchy, desperate moan. Joel grunts, teeth gritted as he flattens himself down against your spine so he can roll his hips into yours. The pain of his size becomes an afterthought just as quickly as the pain of your spanking, dwarfed by the pleasure he gives you just as easily. 

“Fuuuuck,” Joel groans, nuzzling into the crook of your neck and shoulder. Inch at a time, he works you open, grinding his hips into your opening. “Could you be any goddamn tighter?” He bites at your neck from behind with every rock of his hips into yours until he bottoms out.

“Big,” is all you manage to squeak out as he hauls you back on his cock, already prodding your g-spot with his head. Your eyes roll back as you clench around him. 

His fingers go up to run circles around your shoulder, soothing you, grounding you when his cock has you anything but. “Mmm, I know, I know. You can take it. All whores can.” With that, Joel starts fucking you, really fucking you, a punishing, relentless pace where he pulls out entirely before filling you to the brim. Each snap of his hips into yours fills the locker room with shameless sounds, the mere background to your depraved moans.

“Never had your pussy stretched by a man double your age before, huh?”

“N–no! Never… never had my pussy stretched mu…much at all–”

Joel slams into you, laughs at the strained noise that you make. “Yeah? Those dumbfucks on my team not doin’ it for ya, baby?” You don’t answer, don’t think he’s expecting one until his hand wraps around your front, forearm pressed firm against your tits. His thick hand wraps lightly around your neck, jostling you. It’s not hard enough to blur your vision, but just hard enough to remind you of the power he has over you. The power you allow him to have. It’s invigorating. Everything about him is. 

Moans spurt out of you as you fumble to answer, “No da– daddy! You — ah! — do it for m–me!” 

“And what do you say for that? For goin’ outta my way to show you what a real fuck is?”

“Thank you, Daddy!” you cry out. You’re spilling down his thighs, the wet suction of your pussy around his cock making noises more vulgar than you’ve ever heard in porn.

His hand squeezes again at your neck, and you feel floaty, a bubble just waiting to pop. Pleasure dances in every one of your veins, every nerve ending burning like a match that he keeps striking ablaze.

“There you go, desperate slut just needs a freshly spanked ass, a good dickin’ down, and a hand ‘round her throat to behave.” Joel’s pace stays just as harsh, crushing your g-spot with his cock. “Should keep you back here for when we lose, tie you to the goddamn desk. Let my staff take turns with you, see how much crybaby you have left in ya when a dozen men’s loads are drippin’ outta your reamed fuckin’ cunt. Bet you like it when men use you.” The whine that almost gags you on its way out is enough to confirm it.

If he keeps talking to you and the wind blows the right way on your clit, you know you’ll be coming. You’re wringing out his cock with every flutter of your pulsing pussy. The beginning embers of your orgasm turn into a wildfire when he wedges his free hand down between your legs, rubbing messy circles into your sloppy clit. “Fuck, please, please, please,” you sob out, too riddled with pleasure to care about how pathetic you sound or look as you hump his hand while he pounds you.

“Can feel you squeezin’ me, baby.” Joel rasps, nipping at your ear. The hand around your throat falls fully to your chest, pressing you solid against him so he can fuck deeper, deeper, deeper. It’s enough to make you scream, hands clawing and scratching down his muscular grip on you. “C’mon, hun, give it to me, come on my cock, fuck.”

With another thrust, he has you pushed right down onto his fingers, rubbing and flicking you every which way. It’s all you need to come undone, your second orgasm of the night unlatching through you like something forked and angry, battering your sore limbs until there’s nothing left of it or you. You’re a mess, spit oozing down your chin as you slur “thank you daddy” like a broken record, thighs clamping around nothing.

Joel groans as you clench around his cock and continues his relentless pace, hips slapping against yours. The hand he’d been using to rub your clit migrates to your tits, grazing and then thumbing and then tugging lightly your nipples. “There it is, told ya you could be a good girl. Lettin’ your daddy use this cunt to get off, lettin’ me use you. I’m fuckin’ close, baby, where do you want me?”

And you want it even if you shouldn’t, want his cum deep inside of you, want it to leak out into your panties as you walk back to your dorm. You’re still no good at making decisions, too fucked out to tell right from left when you beg, “I–inside, fuck, come inside me, daddy, please.”

Joel practically growls at that, thrusts losing their steadiness as his hips jump and he hurtles towards his release. “Yeah, you’re a goddamn whore, beggin’ for this cum. And you’re gonna fuckin’ take it, yeah… fuckin’ take it.” He slams all the way into you for the last time before shooting his cum into your cunt, swearing and moaning. Breathing like he’s run a mile, he goes slack on top of you, pets the back of your head while he comes down from the exhilaration of his high.

With a gentle kiss to your shoulder, he rises, and the fantasy is over. His cock slips from your pussy, and you feel hollow with the loss. This is where he tucks himself back into his pants, runs a hand back through his hair, tells you to never show your face in his stadium again, and shoves you out the door.

And he does: tucks his softening cock into his boxers, zips up his khakis, does his belt, tames his post-sex head of hair. You wince even if you expected it, leaning down over the edge of the couch to grab your hoodie, already moving to tug it over your head.

“What do you think you’re doin’?” Joel asks, and his tone sounds much more different than the first time he’d asked you. He sounds offended. You blink confusedly, dazedly at him with your arms halfway through the armholes. “Let me clean you up, hun.” Joel side-steps the pile of your leggings and shoes, adjusting the hoodie on your arms and pulling it down your torso. “I know Lucas ain’t done you right, but you deserve to be taken care of, pretty girl.” Your heart pinches in a way that it shouldn’t, not for a hookup with your ex-boyfriend’s coach.

You shift, and he can’t help but look back between your legs where his cum escapes your hole. He manages to pry his eyes away, but not without licking his lips first. “I’ll be right back, baby. Promise.”

When he’s back, it’s with a damp rag. He crouches down in front of you, taking it to the apex of your thighs and wiping away the combination of your releases, careful not to nudge your sensitive clit. He kisses your thigh gently before pulling back, folding the towel on the arm of the couch you’d been crying into just a few minutes ago.

Joel shimmies your ruined panties up your thighs, followed by your leggings. You let him, breath cut like a snipped wire from the sheer intimacy of it all, intimacy you’d lacked with Lucas even after a year of trying. You’d stayed with him for comfortability at your own expense. How stupid could you have been?

Joel pats your knee, eyes soft and weirdly sincere as he looks at you. “I’m sorry about Lucas, honey, but I meant it when I said you deserve to be taken care of.” He rubs the back of his neck before holding something out to you. A business card, his work number plastered in bold sans-serif font across the bottom. “I know this is in reverse ‘n all, but I’d really like to take you out and treat you right, if you’ll let me.”

Saying yes is your first good decision in a while.

[sttoru]

‘you finally got the results to your recent exams back — all which were passing grades. when breaking the happy news to your boyfriend, he comes up with a way to reward you for your hard work.’

☀︎｜tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. age gap (reader early 20’s, satoru early 30’s). fluff & smut. kinda porn with plot, kinda not. soft dom satoru; vanilla, praise, dirty talk, cunnilingus, p in v -> unprotected, body worship kinda, spooning position, little bit of breast play, mention of premature ejaculation kinda, creampie, size difference, reader gets called ‘princess, baby, pretty, adorable’. reader wears a short skirt. not beta read because i’m tired.

“oh my god!” you almost drop your phone from the pure shock you just experienced. your hands shake as you look at the unexpected results reflected on the small screen.

satoru, who was minding his business in the kitchen, hurries into the bedroom the moment he hears your shriek. he was prepared to help you out with whatever had caused you to yell so loudly, though was surprisingly met with your beaming smile;

“oh, what got my princess so happy?” he asks with a grin of his own, stepping into the room. his gaze darts from the phone in your hand to your face and back again. satoru chuckles as you suddenly run up to hug him. he joyfully reincorporates the embrace; your happy mood being contagious.

you giggle and babble on about how you passed your two exams and how you ‘didn’t think you’d be able to attain such high grades’. your boyfriend hums and strokes your hair whilst you ramble, kissing the top of your head with a proud expression, “as expected of my smart little girl. i’m super proud of you.”

there goes the praise again — making your heart flutter in ways that no one else had done before. you sigh in content and bury your face into his chest. satoru pulls back after a moment, tenderly cupping your face so he could look into those pretty eyes of yours.

you’re his weakness. he knows you are — he’s always known you are, yet that adorable look on your face whenever you gaze up at him through your eyelashes never gets old.

that same look also makes him want to do unspeakable things to you; things that would have you crying from pure pleasure. you deserve to be shown what a true man would do for you out of love — what a true man like your lover would do to you for your own satisfaction and pleasure.

“i think my pretty girl deserves a reward for doing so well on her exams,” satoru whispers, slender fingers trailing from your jaw to your neck, brushing over your collar bone, “would you like that? a reward just f’you.”

you weren’t born yesterday. you knew exactly what he was indicating. you could tell by his loving yet lustful gaze, his fingers that sensually dragged along your skin and his tongue that darted out to subtly lick his lips. as if he was preparing to devour a five star meal.

which he was.

“f—ngh, satoru!”your legs were wrapped around his head, his mouth and tongue working their magic on your sopping cunt whilst his hands were holding you down by your hips. satoru hadn't wasted a single second after you agreed to his proposal. he instantly lifted your skirt up, pulled your panties down to your ankles and dived right between your legs.

your thighs were clamping down on his head—almost forcing him to continue pleasuring you. not that your lover minded; he'd gladly do this again and again if he could. satoru leaves sloppy kisses all over your pussy, drenching it in not only your own bodily fluids, but his own saliva as well.

“mm, a little needy, aren't ya?” he mutters whilst softly kissing up and down your slit. he was admiring both the sight and the noises — your back arching, hips stuttering and voice shaking with need. the older man certainly did enjoy the view of your cute little face contorting with pleasure each time the top of his tongue teased your clit, “yeah, c'mon - let me see your face while i eat you out.”

you hesitated, however eventually removed your hands that tried (and failed) to hide your flustered expression. satoru lets out an almost inaudible whine at the revelation; his cock begging to be freed from its confines. he wanted to fuck you into oblivion, but today was your day. he longed to satisfy your own desires first.

satoru was nasty with it too. the unmistakeable, erotic and wet noises of him slurping up your juices mingle with your moans and whines. the white locks of his hair brush against the insides of your thighs and right above your clit—tickling you in all the right ways and adding to the pleasure you were receiving.

“fuck,” the older man curses under his breath and the warmth against your pussy makes your lower body twitch. his big hands squeeze around your hips, silently warning you to stay still so he could properly enjoy you, “you're gonna make me cum before i can make you finish.”

his words were true. satoru could get off from simply watching and hearing his girl enjoy herself. he has no shame in admitting that fact; he can't help it when you’re this incredibly gorgeous. he grinds his crotch against the soft mattress whilst his mouth continues to eat you out in a painfully slow yet tender manner.

“t-toru, g'nna cum.” you whimper and try to grind your cunt against his tongue in search for that last push that would send you over the edge. your high-pitched voice sounding so extremely whiny sealed the deal for your boyfriend. he pulls his head away from your tingling cunt - which is a second away from reaching its orgasm - and sits up on his knees.

satoru smirks once he hears your mumbled complaints. one large hand settles on top of your head and gives your scalp a few relaxing rubs whilst the other hastily undoes the zipper of his pants. he tilts his head to the right, glancing down at your squirming form with a lopsided grin, “d’ya want another treat, princess?”

of course, you nod. you were aching for that release that'd been building up in your lower stomach— needing to reach that long awaited climax. your eyes follow satoru's movements as he pulls his pants down. again, as painfully slow as possible.

“just a nod? tha’s all i get?” your partner pouts, nonchalantly revealing his lengthy cock for you to feast your eyes upon. he sighs dramatically before trailing two slender fingers down to your cunt, gathering your slick and using it to coat his tip. the pre-cum mixes with your own fluids and the erotic sight makes your mouth water, “i know for sure that my smart little girl can use her big words to get what she wants — let me hear ‘em.”

whilst you gather your thoughts and words, satoru lays down behind you, helping your body onto its right side. you’re facing the wall and thus couldn’t see that cocky expression he had on. his arms pull your back flush against his chest, positioning your hips the right way and lifting one of your legs up properly.

“p-please, i need to have you inside me. can’t wait any longer, ‘toru.” you manage to beg in the end. the warmth radiating from your lover’s body from behind you only increases your sinful craving. he teases you by kissing your nape whilst his hands get rid of your top—fingers then immediately fondling your tits.

his husky voice whispers a 'good girl' in your ear and that’s all you got as an answer before you felt his cockhead prod at your entrance. satoru hisses at just the slightest of contact—not sure if he could last long this time. he feels like he will explode the moment his tip glides inside your gaping hole.

“so beautiful, can’t believe how lucky i got.” the white-haired man grunts as his lips refuse to leave your skin. from your neck to your shoulders and upper arms — he didn't leave a single inch uncovered. it was almost tortureous: the way he grinded his tip against your pussy as he touches the rest of your body with his hands and mouth.

you whine and rub your hips back in the same rhythm. you were indirectly begging him to put it in already and satoru took notice of it. since you had begged once before, he won't coax you into doing it again.

with a light moan, he slides his throbbing cock all the way up the tight space. the squeal you let out at the sensation of being stretched out to your maximum capacity, made satoru murmur a few more words of praise in your ear.

“you're doing so good - taking me so well,” his voice was smooth like honey, the same goes for his soft thrusts. the way your pussy grips onto his cock makes him see stars. your boyfriend never gets tired of making love to you because the hypnotising feeling of being inside you doesn't ever get old. it feels like the first time he had stuffed you full of his cock over and over again.

you were feeling light-headed by now; your eyes rolling back as your mouth formed an 'o'-shape—the cockdrunk look satoru loves to see on you. the squelshy 'flop flop flop' noises echo throughout the entire room with every deep thrust of his hips against the plump flesh of your ass.

satoru's long fingers go from playing with your nipples to groping your hips and ass. his eyes gaze downwards, watching as the fat of your bottom ripples after his pace quickens. you were trying your best to keep up, but the overstimulation of all your senses made it hard to match your movements to his.

“aht aht. you've worked hard enough on your exams already, princess. just lay back and allow me to do everything.” satoru (jokingly) scolds you. this was your reward and he didn't want you putting in any effort if your body couldn’t handle it. he wants you to relax like you deserve after a stressful period of exams and assignments. he’ll happily do all the work instead.

“oh, mmh! too good — fuck!” you mewl. your fingers curl around the bedsheets that moved back and forth with your bodies. a bigger hand settles on top of yours — intertwining your fingers and holding onto them tightly. you could feel satoru smiling against the skin of your shoulder as he kisses it, absolutely enjoying your little reactions to his thrusts.

“yeah? am i doing well?” he asks in a teasing tone. he didn’t have to ask that question; he knows he’s doing well judging purely by your bodily reactions. your back arches and your limbs shake uncontrollably, “am i pleasing my baby well enough?”

you can only moan out a couple ‘yes’’s, but that is enough of a confirmation. the older man is on cloud nine as he drags his thick cock in and out of your desperate cunt. every time he pulls out he can feel your pussy try to swallow him back in — it drove him nuts.

“i love how you look whilst i stuff you full of my cock. so innocent, yet so.. lewd at the same time.” satoru comments through another groan, the hand on your hip holding your body still so he could fuck his dick deeper into you. the tip of his cock nearly reaches your cervix due to the angles he uses to move inside you.

your long-awaited and much deserved orgasm was right around the corner. your moans increase in frequency and volume which was enough of a sign for satoru to increase the pleasure. his fingers trail down your hips and to the center between your open legs—thumb putting pressure on your clit.

the extra stimulation has got you biting into the pillow beneath your head, your lower body writhing around as your lover rubs the small bundle of nerves in circles and from side to side. his hand moves fast—its mission being to help you reach that intense orgasm you were chasing after.

satoru is feeling it himself as well. his cock aches and twitches as it gets ready to drain its balls inside your pussy, “cum with me baby—fuck—cum on my cock whilst i dump my load all the way into your tight little cunt.”

that was all the encouragement you needed. your eyes roll back and your body convulses as the waves of pleasure come crashing down all at once. you could feel satoru’s hips desperately push against your ass, filling you completely with both his dick and hot spurts of cum. you could feel the warm essence leavings its evidence in your womb.

the bedsheets underneath your two bodies was drenched in your slick after you calmed down a bit. your boyfriend continues to place comforting kisses all over your naked body, trying to show his appreciation for you in all the ways he could.

“you did so well. you deserved this, princess.” satoru utters softly, the hair clinging onto his forehead. he gently pulls his soft cock out after a minute of making sure that every drop of his cum stayed inside of your cunt. he loves the feeling of fulfilment that it gives him — loves the fact that he filled his girl to the brim.

you smile weakly. you were fucked out: completely and utterly. it felt good and you were satisfied with your reward. it even gave you enough motivation to do well on future exams, “thanks, ‘toru. ‘m feeling sleepy though.”

satoru snickers. you were always so adorable and vulnerable around him after the two of you partake in such activities. he loves it and it makes him want to take care of you.

“you deserve plenty of rest, so go ahead.” your lover smiles gently, kissing the top of your head after you close your eyes. one of his hands hold yours whilst the other rubs your side soothingly, “i won't leave. i'll stay right here with you whilst you sleep. i promise."

satoru knew you needed to hear those words in your vulnerable state. and surely enough, you smile once more and nod. your body falls asleep the moment his strong arms pull you into a loving hug.

his lips attach to your ear in the form a chaste peck. his smooth voice was the last thing you heard as you faded into an unconscious state;

“i love you so much.”

🏷️: @marimogf @osaemu @screampied @sukuette @sachiyoh @giannitaa @morinuu

[oreganocactus]

i don't participate in any sort of svsss fandom stuff so my apologies if this has been said already but a HUGE part of the humor of that book comes from how it parodies typical isekai harem tropes and not just in the way you might think. there's the typical "wow so cheaply derived porn trope" humor but part of the humor is also in that despite LBH being the original protag, the book SVSSS itself features SQQ as the protagonist.....

ppl like to joke about SQQ's "harem" but the humor of the harem isn't just in that he has one at all (when normally that would be LBH's role), it's how every "member" of that harem fulfills a typical isekai harem role in an inverted way!!!!!!

most obvious example is LBH. he's an inversion in that he's originally intended to be an all-powerful demon king who's a housewife in SVSSS, but (imo) the humor in his "role" is that he's supposed to fulfill the trope of the young abused battle-hardened "demon" girl who longs for peace and housewifery and latches onto the older man who showed him kindness -- except instead of being a moe anime girl, he's an all-powerful protagonist-style power insert hero. so, not so much an inversion of "this demon king is actually a housewife??" and moreso "this housewife is actually a male demon king" (which might not sound like much of a difference at all, but it's moreso about how the MEN fulfill harem girl tropes and not the other way around.)

another example is YGY - set up as a "big brother" figure and clearly has history with SQQ. he's meant to fulfill the trope of the clingy "older sister" childhood friend who promises marriage to the protagonist and has clear history w/him but is insecure about his role because he's not as "appealing" as the other options. his humor as a "romance option" comes from 1. him being a man (you might notice this is the case for a lot of these LOL) and 2. actually, in fact, being immensely powerful - it's another inversion of the trope of the physically weak "starter" harem girl who agonizes over being unable to do more for her beloved childhood friend in their journey.

my favorite example: LQG is the most obvious "tsundere tomboy" trope ever. physically powerful, out of touch with her emotions, gets flustered and aggressive with her crush, focuses on getting stronger above all else yet somehow extraordinarily beautiful -- all of these are extremely obvious tropes assigned to this "tsundere tomboy" trope, with the humor lying in the contrast of LQG actually being a man. the succubus extra is hilarious not just because of the awkward situation and their reactions, but because it's an EXACT setup of an extremely common scene in isekai harem novels. the cold tsundere beauty gets affected by succubi, doesn't know what to do, goes to the protagonist for help - it's the exact kind of situation that would have the protagonist pushing her down and saying lines like "you shouldn't act like this - i'm a man too, don't you know?" and making her aware that she's a woman and "in danger" around him. it's funny because LQG is very much a man, and indeed SVSSS parodies this directly by having SQQ tell LQG that he's a man too, he'll understand if he needs to jerk off! no worries!

even ZZL falls into the trope of the typical beast-kin girl who's saved by the protagonist and falls into his harem, subverted by his loyalty to someone ELSE besides SQQ and nonchalance as he does it.

it's the main draw of the humor of the novel for me and i surprisingly feel like not enough people talk about just how much SVSSS really leans into being a parody of a harem-collecting isekai....

and if you're curious about my credentials for making this post: if you name a shitty isekai novel, i've almost definitely already read it all. i read too many midsekais. it's like an addiction.

[suguella]

LESSON IN PRIVATE ꒰ ft satoru gojo ꒱

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : gojo, a fuck boy, insists on getting you to go to a party but since you’ve been failing classes, he offers to help you.

꒰ CONTENT WARNING ꒱ : explicit content, friends with benefits trope, porn with (?) a plot, p in v, fuckboy!gojo, foul language, cunningulus, oral (m + f), nipple play, degrading, and reader is a female.

꒰ AUTHORS NOTE ꒱ : bro this has been in my drafts for so fucking long, enjoy ;) @screampied 🤍.

gojo : party in 2 hours, get ready :)

you : can't, gotta revise.

you were failing classes. that was a big problem and you had one person to blame; Gojo. he always managed to convince you to go to parties with him and, surprisingly, you would always say yes — but that was only because you had a thing for him.

gojo : im coming over

you : well im not opening the door for you

gojo : you’re going to do that to your best friend?

you sigh, staring at your notes. you thought to yourself, should i just fuck it and go? gojo was annoying, so a simple no wouldn’t stop him from dragging you out your house. but then again you were failing.

gojo : im outside, open the door.

you open to see to see a very tall white-haired man smirking at you, “no hi? hello?” you rolled your eyes as he chuckle. you invite him inside before breaking it to him “toru, i need to revise. sorry, but you’re on your own for this one”

“i can help you revise.” he said and you busted out laughing, "not to be blunt and all, but you're just a fuck boy"

gojo smirked, "we'll see about that," and you accepted his offer.

you were on your bed with your legs wide open, gojos face buried in your pussy. He slips your hand between your legs and made you rub your swollen clit. “come y/n you’re almost there.”

he inserts 2 fingers in, pumping vigorously while his other hand pulled on your nipples.

“come on y/n.” you didn’t know the answer only because the pleasure was taking away your concentration.

“fuck toru, i don’t know” he sucks on your pussy lips causing you to tug on his hair. “that’s not the answer baby, try again.”

he sucks on to your clit making an O shape causing your eyes roll back. “t-toru, is it a class of sugars that cannot be hydrolyzed to give a simpler sugar?”

he smirked at you, “good girl but fuck this, i need to be inside you” gojo toke off his boxer, his dick springing out.

“you’re too big” he runs his dick along your folds “sh baby, you can take it.” He holds onto your hips, nails digging into your poor skin as he plunges himself in.

the sound of skin slapping was the second noise compared to hearing you moaning his name.

he watched, seeing you play your erect nipples. you felt his cock twitch and thicken against the hug of your walls, “toru, fuck” your eyes glisten with tears as he stretches you out.

“you can do this y/n” he says as he rocks your body causing you to whimper. with each thrust came a moan, your nails scrape his lower back. he hissed, “careful babe”

you tilt your head back, searching for gojos lips. he reciprocated by grabbing your throat with his free hand and tugs at your top lip with his teeth.

you’re almost there and gojo was too, you both finish, still holding on to each other. he didn’t want to let go of you, at least not yet.

he’d be lying if he said he never wished for this.

[sooniebby]

,,,,, reader (ftm) is Megumi's babysitter n when DILF Toji comes back he rails the reader (Megumi is asleep upstairs so he doesn't hear anything lmao),,,, yes i know this is one of THE cheesiest porn plots ever but I love it sm

ఌ 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

꧁ 𝙏𝙤𝙟𝙞 𝙭 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

w.c. › 6.4k

Warnings › a broke man and a nasty ass house.Also age gap.. reader is around 20. Reader is trans masc. I went too far guys omfg… the plot took over. Slow-ish slow burn.. they kinda start fucking randomly.. also mamaguro didn’t die until Megumi was 6.

Kinks › use of pussy/cunt/feminine terms, breeding, manhandling, degradation, size kink. Reader is called housewife. Mention of getting pregnant.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

“What… the fuck..?”

You were shocked. Baffled. Bewildered. What the fuck was this mess?! You weren’t even inside the house and could see what looked to be ants having a conga line as they stole crumbs off the floor.

The kid you were set to babysit didn’t look bothered by the mess. Megumi..? Was it?

Megumi hummed, noticing your shocked stare at the mess he was forced to call a home. “It’s… it’s not too bad if you ignore the kitchen.”

“Where’s…?” You whispered, slowly walking into the house. You didn’t even want to take off your shoes but it seemed Megumi was wearing his shoes.. so you kept yours on.

“He went to work.” Was all Megumi said as he shuffled over to the small living room. He plopped down onto the couch and began watching tv. You gently placed your bag down on the floor in the only clean-ish area of the house. Just.. how can it get this bad? Was he never home?

“Uhm.. well… I’m guessing you’re Megumi?” You asked, walking over to the couch. Megumi gave you a hum as he began shifting through channels with a remote that looked as if it was one press from combusting. As you sat down, Megumi quickly spoke.

“No! Not that—”

Crack!

You blinked in perplexity as you weren’t sitting on a comfy cushion of a couch. No.. you were sitting through the couch, your ass practically touching the floor. You grunted, your legs flailing as you tried to get out of this death trap masquerading as a couch.

“What… the… fawk?!” You screamed, already wishing you didn’t accept this gig.

“Dad broke that side of the couch.. he hasn’t replaced it yet.” Megumi muttered, getting up as he grabbed your hand and began pulling.

He was only around ten the most… there wasn’t much strength to his pulls. It took an embarrassingly long time until you finally got out. If Megumi wasn’t going to be alone in this devil trap, you would’ve ran out screaming. But you quickly took a deep breath and tried to calm down.

“Usually.. they all leave around this time.” Megumi whispered, seemingly waiting for you to just bolt out the door. “Can you… at least stay until I go to bed, Mister…?”

He looked up at you. The usual cute little kid puppy eyes and pouted lip. You sighed and simply nodded. It wasn’t the kid’s fault he had a lazy man as a father. You briefly wondered where the mother was but didn’t think it was right to ask Megumi such a question.

Instead… you glanced over at the clock.

9:30 a.m.

Okay.. the father should come home at around 6 p.m.? The latest? So you could stay for this kid. Might as well, you travelled a bit far. Because surprisingly, the pay was pretty good. But now you wondered if you weren’t getting any of that money when you glanced at the state of the home.

“Well. Have you eaten?” You asked.

“Yeah.”

“What’d you eat?”

“….cookies.”

You groaned. You stormed over to the mess of a kitchen and began opening the cabinets to find nothing! You opened the pantry—zilch! You opened the fridge with a look of despair—nada!

You would’ve screamed and cried if you didn’t want to embarrass yourself more in front of a kid ten years younger than you. With a grunt, you looked back at Megumi who looked unconcerned with his poor excuse of a kitchen.

“Let’s go to the grocery store….” You muttered through your teeth. You were glad Megumi was already dressed. But it was confusing.. his clothes looked decent. Did the dad spend all money on Megumi’s clothes?

10:10 a.m.

You fucking hated the city! All this damn traffic. And you almost lost Megumi!! The two of you were now in the grocery store, you hand gripped tightly around Megumi’s as you stomped around with a look of anger. Your lips in a permanent snarl while your eyebrows furrowed.

This wasn’t even your kid but it certainly felt like it!

Megumi, despite a bit confused on why you seemed so worked up, had a small smile on his face. It was.. normal to just grocery shop—even if it was with a man he didn’t even know well.

Once you began to check out, you almost cried at the price. You slowly handed your credit card to the clerk, your grip tight as she had to wrestle it out of your hand. Silent tears streamed down your face as you spent money on someone who’s not even your kid..

Gosh.. why’d you have to care so much, (Name)?!

“What does your dad even do?” You asked as you two sat on the train back to Megumi’s house. The train was empty—the only two souls being you and Megumi. And this random guy towards the end but he doesn’t matter.

Megumi hummed, lost in thought. “Dunno.”

You groaned. Well, it didn’t matter anyway. You were just going to take care of this kid today and never come back. As you began checking your phone, the soft weight of someone resting on your arm jolted you. You glanced down and saw Megumi snuggled up against you, already deep in sleep.

Fuck…

Curse kids being cute.

11:50 a.m.

The sounds of harsh scrubbing filled the Fushiguro household. Clinking pots and sounds of labored breathing were one. Megumi was on the couch, the safe side, eating an omelette you made for him. It was an actual healthy meal—filled with protein and fiber. But you…

You were on your knees scrubbing what looked to be weeks old spill of pasta. Or.. something. It was red and smelled a bit. But you weren’t quite sure. As you scrubbed the spot away—you glanced around the kitchen with a frown. The only thing cleaned up.. was the sink and now the floor.

Everything else was still dirty.

So, for the next few hours, you began cleaning. Maybe it was for Megumi.. you felt terrible that he had to live in such a dirty home. Perhaps you saw yourself in him—being forced to live in a house that your parents didn’t care to make it feel like a home.

“Mister (Name), can we go to the park later?” Megumi suddenly asked. You glanced behind yourself to see him holding his now empty plate as he dropped it in the sink.

“Sure. Will your dad be okay with it?”

Megumi shrugged. “Maybe.” He walked away after that.

This kid didn’t seem to care that much on his father opinion. But you were just a babysitter, not some type of disciplinary parent. The smell of the fumes from the cleaning sprays was getting to you, so you grabbed a random candle and lit it.

The candle looked to be a lavender one. It’s case still brand new. Compared to most things in this house.. it looked taken care of. The smooth container was soft against your skin as you placed it on the newly cleaned kitchen counter. It smelled nice.

It was a lavender candle. You couldn’t go wrong with lavender.

“You lit it?” Megumi suddenly whispered, his eyes turned over to you.

You hummed. “Yeah. Is.. this not for lighting?” You muttered, realizing you should’ve asked first.

“No.. it’s fine. I doubt he even remembered it was there,” he muttered, his voice a bit angry before he turned his body back to the tv.

You wanted to ask.. why he wouldn’t remember it. But you thought back to the missing mother. Oh. Was this hers? You felt awful lighting it now. So grabbing the covering, you covered the candle, letting the flame die out. As you watched the light go out—it felt worst letting it die than letting it burn.

“Megumi, I’m going to check out the bedrooms, okay?”

“Ok.”

You walked up the stairs and opened the first door you saw.

The bigger bedroom.. wasn’t the father’s. It was Megumi’s. And it was perfect. A nice citrus smell filled the room from the fragrance plugs. A nicely painted blue colored walls. Toys packed neatly and a bed that looked cared for.

Even the floor was cleaned. It squeaked beneath your shoes.. you quickly took them off. As you left the room, closing the door with a soft smile on your lips, you walked to the spare bedroom. Opening the door, the bedroom was small. More like an office.

But it certainly was more fit for the child—not the father. You wondered why he gave Megumi the bigger room but it made sense in that, perhaps he just wanted to give Megumi more space. The room was dirty, just like the rest of the house. Wrappers crinkled beneath your feet as you shuffled around, trying to see what was in the room.

When you turned on the light.. you noticed that this was also Megumi’s space. The wrappers were candy and there was more toys all over this room. But it didn’t make any sense. This was a two bedroom home..? Or.. you thought about the room downstairs that was locked when you were searching for cleaning supplies.

Ah, that must’ve been the true master bedroom.

You cleaned the spare bedroom and noticed that it was more like an office. You checked the closet and saw dresses, skirts, and heels. It was obviously the mom’s—but they haven’t been worn in awhile.

You closed the door, deciding you shouldn’t snoop too much in this family’s business. You whispered a quick soft apology for disbursing the room obviously left to the mother and walked out.

Downstairs, Megumi was still watching tv but he quickly stood up at the sight of you. He smiled a bit and sprinted over to you.

“Why’d you let it stop? You can burn it.” He said, pointing to the candle.

You glanced over at it. “I… I don’t know. Your father had it hidden between the cleaning supplies… I only found it by accident.”

“Please… I..” Megumi sighed. “I miss her smell.”

You felt guilty… but as there was no father to object, you started the candle once more. Megumi was considerably happy as he jumped back onto the couch and payed attention to the tv.

The gnawing feeling of guilt hurled in your guts but you pushed it back. The house still had spots to clean. Keeping yourself busy with that—you cleaned the living room and the front area of the home.

Lavender filled your nose as you moved about. It was comforting, swirling around as if it was livening up each corner of the home. Megumi was happy.

5:50 p.m.

Okay. Time for dinner. You felt a bit embarrassed forgetting to give Megumi lunch but he didn’t seem to mind. Probably has to do with the amount of snacks he was eating while you cleaned. You made the easiest thing ever, chicken Katsu curry. As you gave Megumi his portion, you noticed there was enough for at least two more people. So you placed them in the fridge. Despite having a bit of a grudge against the dad..

It wouldn’t hurt to leave him dinner.

It only took a near hour before Megumi was reminding you about the park. Your body was sore though, from slaving away in cleaning this damn house. And it was a job well done.. no more ants conga lining or the nasty smell of what could be assumed as blood.

“Okay, okay… Only for an hour the most—I don’t know if your dad will be okay with it.” You said, smiling softly.

9:00 p.m.

Okay, so it wasn’t an hour.. nearly four! But it was hard. Megumi was having so fun swinging and then you guys started playing tag.. and then hide and seek. And then—

Okay, you don’t have a backbone when it comes to cute kids.

You hummed softly as you walked back home—Fushiguro’s home! Megumi was in your arms, face nuzzled into your neck as he slept away. The sun was already down by now, the only light was the street lights shining down on you.

Even if the dad didn’t pay you much.. you would come back, just for Megumi. As you trudged up the slight hill to the house, you wondered how parents who carried their child did it so often. It felt like a workout.

Once you reached the house, you stopped in your tracks.

There was man standing at the door.

He was tall, certainly taller than you. Dressed in a long black t-shirt with baggy tan pants. You stepped back ready to start running when a gust of wind caused you to shriek.

The man was right in front of you. His eyes bore down on you with a look of pure bloodlust before his eyes flickered to the body in your arms. He calmed down, noting.. Megumi was in your arms.

So you must’ve been the babysitter. Huh, he never expected a man.

Well, he certainly scared you off with how he just acted.

“I,” his voice was deep. “I lost my keys.”

You blinked. Anger. Frustration.

“What the fuck?!” You screamed.

The man backed away a bit, raising his hand up in confusion. He obviously looked confused at your sudden burst of anger… did it anger you that much that he lost his keys?

You pulled out the spare keys you had in your pocket and opened the front door, storming inside with the dad right behind you.

“Put him to bed!” You yelled, pointing at Megumi.

He took Megumi from your arms and went upstairs. You took that as your chance to grab your bag. Well, you did what Megumi wanted, stayed until he fell asleep.

Just as you were about to leave, the dad was downstairs already. Okay, that wasn’t possible or normal but you didn’t know if you were just sleep deprived.

“The trains are closed for the night. Are you going to walk home?” He asked.

“Maybe! Why do you care?”

“It’s not safe.”

“It’s not safe to leave trash all over the house.”

He looked over at you with a raised eyebrow, as if waiting to see if you’d continue with your disrespect. But you pursed your lips shut. Yeah, it wasn’t safe going home this late. Especially when you lived so far away from here.

“Fine. I cleaned the spare bedroom anyway, it’ll be fine to sleep in.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“No. That room is off limits.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine. The couch will do.” You whispered, storming over to the couch. But of course… you forgot which side was the broken one.

And once again, you were stuck in the broken couch. You didn’t even flail this time. Only a whine of disappointment as you decided to accept your faith. The dad was busy doing something as he didn’t come over to you until you heard the microwave turn on.

“That side is broken.”

“I noticed.” You grunted.

The man grabbed your arm and easily pulled you out, causing you to shriek.

“You shriek a lot.. are you a mouse?”

“A mouse?!”

“You’re so loud, mouse.”

“It’s (Name), oaf!”

“Toji.”

You rolled your eyes and moved to go sit down but his grip on your arm didn’t waiver. It wasn’t like he was putting much force into it, it was a light easy grip. But it still held you in place.

He leaned down a bit, his nose sniffing you. You gagged at him being so close but could only pull away a bit from him.

“You stink.” He simply stated.

“Stink?!” You screeched. “I busted my ass cleaning your dirty house for Megumi!”

“Huh? I didn’t hire you as a maid. You’re Megumi’s babysitter.”

“Well,” you muttered, trying to explain yourself. “It’s.. not good for Megumi to live in such a dirty space. Kids get sick easily!”

Which was technically true.

Toji hummed. “Okay, Housewife—you still stink.”

“Housewife—?!”

“—so go bathe before going to bed.”

“I don’t have any clothes.”

“I’ll give you something.”

With that, Toji walked away to the kitchen and grabbed the plate of microwaved curry. You glared at him but walked over to the bathroom.

It was recently cleaned as the acidic scent attacked your nostrils. You started the bath, letting it fill in as you got undressed. Toji was right though—you certainly didn’t smell as nice as you did when you first got here.

“Hey, Housewife.”

You screamed out, covering your chest as the bathroom door opened. Toji kept his eyes closed as he tossed a towel inside.

“Stop screaming, you’ll wake up Megumi.”

The door closed after that. Your face was flushed red as your lips curled into a pout. Shit. You were so loud. You stopped the water and got inside, ready to just take a long relaxing bath.

9:50 p.m.

You hummed, feeling yourself being wrapped in a nice fluffy blanket. You only giggled, snuggling into the warm embrace. Strong arms held you up and suddenly you were moving.

It felt so nice being cuddled by warmth, especially after that cold bath. But you didn’t know why the bath was cold. It was hot when you started it.

You shook awake when you felt your body drop onto a bed. Toji had carried you from the bathtub. You quickly fixed your towel to make sure you were properly covered as you watched him walk to his closet.

“Be careful next time, Housewife. You were about to drown if I didn’t check on you.”

“Huh? Drown? And it’s (Name)! I’m a guy, damn it!”

“Your head was underwater.”

“Oh.. how long was I in there?”

“Almost an hour.”

You shivered. Well, thank god you didn’t even attempt to walk home. You would’ve passed out mid walk. Toji looked busy, moving clothes around in his closet as he hyper focused on them.

“Here.”

You flinched as a large t-shirt was thrown at your face. It was a black one that would certainly cover your body fully. But.. there was no underwear. You took the chance to slip the shirt on when Toji’s back was still facing you.

The t-shirt practically engulfed you, way too big for your body. As you examined the big shirt, Toji closed the closet door. You glanced up when you felt his eyes on you.

“You can watch Megumi for another day, yeah?”

“Wha? Why?”

“I got another job.” Was all he said as he left the bedroom.

With a grunt you shot out of bed and followed after. You watched as he slipped back into his shoes and was standing by the front door, ready to just leave! Who does that?

“Hey!” You yelled, before quickly quieting down when you remembered Megumi was asleep. “What type of job do you have to be leaving so late?!”

“You’re the babysitter.. Focus on Megumi. I’ll pay you extra.”

“The pay doesn’t matter, asshole! Megumi needs a parent that is actually here. It’s better for him,” you said, stomping over to Toji.

You opened your mouth to speak once more but was muffled when Toji grabbed your face. He stared down at you, a look of disinterest on his face. You could feel his eyes just taking you in, looking at your features. Your lips, eyes, nose.

His hand was so large against your face, so easily holding your jaw still and squishing your chubby cheeks. Your lips were pursed together as you tried to make a sound. He leaned down towards you, his lips right near your ears as he whispered to you.

“You should be careful when moving your arms up so high, especially without underwear.” Was all he said before leaving.

The door slammed shut when you finally realized what he meant. Your face flushed red in embarrassment. Fuck!

This guy…

12:30 p.m.

It was the next day and no sign of Mister Fushiguro “Toji”. You stabbed angrily at your salad. Megumi was unfazed but certainly happy that you hadn’t left last night. You had to stay in Toji’s shirt and just grab the smallest pants there.

Still no underwear.

Even the smallest pants kept falling a bit if you didn’t hold it while walking. You had pulled up the shirt and used a rubber band to tighten it so it wasn’t knee length anymore.

If Megumi noticed you were wearing his father’s clothes, he didn’t say anything.

“What time does your dad get home?”

Megumi hummed. “Dunno. Depends.”

“On what?”

Megumi seemed to hesitate so you didn’t push it.

Didn’t matter, as soon as Toji got home, you’d give him a piece of your mind.

11:20 p.m.

The door opened. You were right there in front of it, ready to yell when you froze. Toji had a gash on his arm, bleeding all onto the floor. But he didn’t seem fazed by it. On the contrary, it was as if it was another Tuesday to him. Your lips parted, only sounds that could out being a soft ‘huh?’

Toji looked at you, seeming to be a bit shocked you were still there. His eyes flickered down.

“You love flashing me, huh?”

You blinked in confusion and looked down to see the pants pooling around your legs. For fuck sakes! You quickly pulled up the pants and blushed heavily, thoughts rushing in your mind.

“W—Where were you?! Why are you bleeding?!” You whispered yelled. Megumi was upstairs sleeping.

Toji hummed nonchalantly as he walked to the kitchen and opened one of the cabinets, pulling out some napkins and bandages. The gash was still bleeding as blood began pooling around his feet.

Was.. that how…? You pushed the thought away and trudged over to him. With quick hands, you grabbed the materials from him and began cleaning the wound. You had so many questions—wanting to know just what type of job could do this to him.

But you were the babysitter. And that’s all you were.

When you finished, the makeshift bandages that were wrapped hazardously around his arm. It wasn’t properly secured as it slipped a bit when Toji moved his arm but he still thanked you and fixed it to be tighter.

Silence filled the room as you grabbed some paper towels to clean up the blood on the ground.

Toji didn’t say anything, just watching you clean. Were you just this weird? He didn’t know a boy like you would be interested in babysitting, much less cleaning the entire house.

He knew he should’ve thanked you yesterday for cleaning it—but he didn’t. He wasn’t even sure why.

“What job do you have?” You suddenly asked, standing up as you threw away the dirty paper towels. Toji glanced at you. You expected him to just answer but instead he said..

“Cook somethin’ for me, Housewife. I’m starving.” He said, walking over to the living room. He plopped down onto the couch and grabbed the remote, turning the tv on.

You stared at the back of his head in shock. And pure rage but since you didn’t want to wake up Megumi, you silently cursed him out as you made him the laziest dinner ever.

It was fucking 12:00 a.m. by now! No way were you going to go all out for this broke lazy man.

You gave him a bowl of leftover salad and store bought sushi you and Megumi had left over. You could tell Toji looked a bit disappointed but still took the bowl from you.

As he ate, you still wanted to know more.

“Why do you keep calling me housewife? I’m a man, y’know!”

“So?” He simply said. “You embody the housewife… so I’ll call you housewife.”

You glared at him. “How?! Just by cleaning?”

“Cleaning. Taking care of Megumi. Restocking the kitchen. Making me dinner.”

“I made the dinner for Megumi.” You muttered bitterly.

“Oh, right.” Toji muttered, fishing something out from his dirty pants. There were stains you knew weren’t water… you told yourself it was his blood—not someone else’s. He pulled out a wad of cash and placed it into your hands.

“Paycheck.”

You counted the money. “It’s more than promised.”

“You stayed longer than necessary.”

“Right.” You whispered. You walked over and placed the cash into your bag. No one payed with cash as much anymore but you didn’t want to know why he wasn’t sending it electronically.

You glanced over at Toji, getting a better look of him. He was as good looking as a man who obviously hasn’t been grooming himself often. His eyes flickered to yours, a raised eyebrow as he waited for you to say something.

“Oh.. uh.. will you be going out for work again..?”

“No. I have enough money for at least a week.”

“Will you.. at least spend time with Megumi?”

Toji hummed. “It’s only been two days but you’re already caring a lot for Megumi.” He looked over at you. “You enjoy being with kids?”

“Do you?”

Toji stood up suddenly, causing you to flinch in shock. He placed the empty bowl on the small wooden coffee table and walked past you to the front door.

“Where are you going?” You asked, watching as he grabbed a jacket from the small closet. He didn’t even struggle pulling the jacket on—it was as if his wound didn’t hurt him. He was leaving? Again? With no work to do?!

It wasn’t on purpose. Really, you just acted so fast. Your hands were gripped tightly on his. You were staring right at his hand. The rough feeling of his palms—certainly of one that has held… his hand was large against yours. Even two of your hands were small compared to one of his. Toji glanced down at you, noticing that your—his, really—pants fell down again. He was about to comment on it again, ready for you to jump in embarrassment.

But when he saw your face, he paused.

Your eyes were a bit puffy, watery as you looked up at him. You.. This random guy he hired two days ago to watch Megumi was going to cry over him?

His dick twitched in his pants.

“Just… stay tonight. You might not notice it.. but Megumi was so happy when he woke up to me still here.” You whispered, leaning in closer to Toji. “I know I’m just a stranger and I’m not supposed to be bothering you like this… but I—uh, for Megumi… it’d be nice.”

The soft hums of the tv from the random show Toji was watching continued on. Even if it had been almost two days, the soft lavender smell still danced around the house. Just breathing it in brought you a sense of peace. Your grip loosened on Toji’s hand as you realized that this was a bit much. Maybe you did care a bit too much about Megumi.

But you weren’t even sure why.

A low deep laugh caught your attention as you looked up. Toji’s lips were pulled into a smirk as he used his free hand to grab your face harshly. Panic filled you as you reached up and grabbed at his arm, believing he was about to hurt you.

“You’re really embodying this housewife role, (Name). I guess I need to let you do your other job as well.” He said. “I was going to have some fun with a prostitute but.. I should’ve just went to my housewife.”

“Let’s take a bath first, can’t smell bad during your first time.”

12:20 a.m.

You weren’t sure why you didn’t say shit. Toji was relaxed in the bathtub that was not made for two people. Especially not someone as large as Toji.

The water was warm against your skin as you stared at your knees brought up to your chest. You were between Toji’s muscular thighs, making sure your back didn’t rest against his chest. Toji’s soft hums began to sound like light snoring. And, weirdly enough, you liked hearing it. You began getting comfortable but still curled up into yourself. A large hand gripped your waist and pulled you back, forcing your back to lay on his chest.

You meeped in shock, face flushed. But Toji didn’t say anything. His hand continued to rest on the curve of your waist, his thumb slowly tracing little circles all over it. The feeling of the warm water and comfortable touching on your body, you felt your eyes flutter close.

It wasn’t until you felt the subtle touch of something on your ass was when you shook awake.

It was a dick.

A.. uh, big one at that.

You looked over your shoulder, seeing Toji mostly asleep. His head was resting against the wall while his chest rose and fell slowly. You gently turned around to fully face him. He was hot. Sexy maybe.

But definitely older than you.

You reached out and rest your hands on his chest, leaning close to Toji. You didn’t know what exactly you were doing but you wanted to kiss him. Maybe constantly being called a housewife was getting to you.

Your body was fully pressed against his—lips close to his when a hand was squeezing your hips. You whimpered and pulled away, looking down to see Toji looking up at you with a lazy smirk.

“You’re not just a housewife, huh? Also a slut too.”

“No… ‘m not..” you muttered, blushing heavily as Toji’s hand trailed down to your ass and began to harshly knead it.

“You’re not? But what were you trying to do just now?”

You pursed your lips and looked away. Yeah, you were trying to kiss him. It felt embarrassing to be caught red handed like that. Toji hummed as he watched you squirm. His hands rose up and gripped your waist. You looked back at him and wondered if he was going to push you away.

But instead of pushing you away, he pulled you against your chest as he stood up. You gasped and quickly wrap your arms around his neck as a way to stay upright as he walked out of the tub. He didn’t even bother grabbing a towel—simply walked nude and wet to the bedroom with you in his arms. He was only even using one arm to keep you up.

He unceremoniously dropped you onto the bed. You let out a huff, glaring at him. The bed was now wet from the water on your body. It seeped into the blankets and when you tried to move off the bed, Toji grabbed your foot and pulled you towards the edge of the bed. You shrieked at his strength.

He had no problem just dragging or picking you up like a rag doll.

With your legs dangling off the bed, Toji lifted them up, causing your body to uncomfortably arch.

“Toji! This is uncomfortable,” you whined.

“I know.”

You watched with a bated breath as Toji kneeled at the edge of the bed, placing your legs on either side of his shoulder. The position was odd. You were resting on your shoulders and upper back with your lower half raised up by Toji’s grip. His large hands had a harsh grip on your thighs. You were sure there would be bruising in the morning.

“Usually, I don’t reward sluts.. but because you’re my housewife, I’ll be nice.”

With that, you suddenly felt a tongue graze right against your cunt. You shivered, gripping the bedsheets beneath you. The droplets from both of your bodies dripped onto the ground and bed.

“T…Toji..!” You whined, your legs squeezing his head as you felt his tongue lick between your folds. He was slow and sharp, one of his hands going down to flick your clit. Your toes curled and soft whimpers left your lips as his tongue reached deep between your folds.

You had to be control your voice—no matter how loud you wanted to be.

You cried out when his lips left your heat. His grip on your legs moved down to your waist and next thing you knew it, you were manhandled onto the bed. You were on your back, legs pushed up to where your knees reached your chin. The position was more comfortable than the one before.

Toji got between your legs and leaned over you, a sly smirk on his lips. “I never thought I’d ever be fucking Megumi’s babysitter. Most don’t make it after an hour.”

“Cause the house was awful..” You muttered.

You gasped when you felt a sharp tug at your hair. Toji smirked at you, obviously enjoying your cry of pain. He released your hair and you decided to keep your mouth shut.

“I was getting sick of having to hire a new babysitter every day—it’s good to know I won’t have to anymore.” You felt something rub against your pussy, slowly inching between your wet folds. “It’s a bonus you ended up being a good housewife.”

Crack!

Your mouth pulled open in a silent scream—back arched as Toji’s cock slammed right inside of you. It was painful, no doubt because he didn’t stretch you out for a cock that was so thick! It was stretching you, your cunt clamping down on it as you tried to get used to it.

The look on Toji’s face was of pure satisfaction. He was happy to be fucking such a tight wet cunt. Even more so it was yours. He didn’t wait long to start fucking into you, watching you come undone beneath him.

Your smaller body compared to his bigger form. Hands reaching up to claw at his back for some type of stability. The bed had broke one of its legs when he thrusted inside of you. You were sure it wouldn’t survive by how harsh his hips slapped against your ass, sending you up towards the headboard each time.

“I can’t really call you a slut if this is how your cunt feels. Were you one of those boys saving this,” he tugs lightly at your clit, earning a cry, “for someone special?”

You shook your head, moans and gasps leaving your lips as you tried to speak. It was so hard to speak that you didn’t even try, solely focusing on the cock stretching you full.

“Sorry to disappoint but this cunt belongs to me now.”

You didn’t tell him no. Because for some reason, you liked the sound of that.

As he continued fucking you, his hand rested down on your stomach as the other gripped your waist. You watched with hooded eyes as your continued crying and whimpering, your pussy clinching around his cock as you felt yourself reach your limit.

“You never answered me that time.” He leaned down close to you. “Do you like kids?”

You wanted to punch him for asking such a question during such a time but you simply nodded. “Yes…! Kids… ngh… cute…” you pitifully whimpered.

“Then Megumi deserves a sibling. Think you can give it to him?” He simply said. You blushed heavily at his words, mouth opening to ask what the fuck did he mean by that but he was now focused solely on fucking you.

Your hands scratched at his back as you arched yours, crying and moaning as his hips slammed into your ass. You weren’t sure if you really wanted to go through the whole ordeal of birth but just technically being claimed by Toji made your brain feel mushy.

It didn’t take long for you to cum. Your toes curled and your nails clawed at Toji’s back for purchase as your body shook with your orgasm. Toji didn’t let up, however, somehow going even faster. It was like he was using you like a toy, fucking your hole with reckless abandon as he chased his own release now.

He slammed his hips harsh, pushing his cock deep inside you before cumming. You whimpered, feeling the warm cum coat your insides. Cum seeped into the bedsheets as he pulled out, leaving your cunt to faintly clench around the missing feeling.

“You’re helping me save money. Don’t need to spend it on women when I got my housewife right here.” He patted your sore pussy. “If I knew fucking men would feel this good I would’ve done it earlier.”

You blushed. “I feel dirty..”

Toji simply laughed. “You are.” He grabbed your face, but much more gently than the times before and pressed a sloppy kiss onto your lips. “Now be a good boy and take a shower. I’ll join you soon.”

You bit your lip and mutely nodded as he got up from bed. With shaky legs, you slowly walked to the bathroom, feeling cum drip down your legs. You were sure some fell into the floor. God, you’d need to clean that layer. When you reached the bathroom and turned on the tub, you suddenly felt giddy.

Wow. You came here to babysit and suddenly you have a “boyfriend?”

Luck was on your side. You just wondered what it would be like dating someone like Toji.

6:30 a.m.

“T..Toji..!” You whispered, gripping the bedsheets beneath you. Toji was fucking into your already sore cunt. You were on your side with Toji behind you, his hand holding your leg up as his cock pumped into your pussy.

It’s been maybe four weeks since you got here. You haven’t gone home. Well, just once to get clothes since you couldn’t just stay in Toji’s clothes. Megumi was so happy that you were staying. Finally, something constant.

But you soon learned that Toji was a very horny man—he would constantly fuck you in the bathtub, living room, kitchen, and bedroom. It was always before he left for work and when he came back. You had gotten used to having your hole stuffed full of cum. It was getting tiring of cleaning it out.

You mentioned condoms… but that only resulted in him giving you continuous creampies until you apologized.

Toji finally cummed, once again coating your insides. He pulled and pressed a kiss onto your neck as he got up from the bed. He got dressed and turned to you.

“I’m going now. I want curry for dinner.”

That was all he said before leaving. It felt a little degrading, to be used and then told to make him dinner before he got back. But you still did it, no question asked.

You truly were a male housewife.

Definitely not what child you dreamed of being as an adult, but hey, things change.

At least the dick was good.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

First time writing deadbeatguro… how’d I do? Feel like I didn’t do him justice smh. But it was fun writing this, made it way too long but hey, plot just happened..

tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @remdayz @chill-guy-but-cooler @tehyunnie @smellwell @rhetorical-conscience @nakedtoasterr @mello-life69 @iwishtobeacrow @kiiyoooo @tomoeroi @ofclyde @kaedezu

[fuckincrow]

Olfactophilia

summary: You're dating Homelander and he's horny for your scent, pretty much porn without plot. AFAB reader, gender neutral.

warnings: homelander is a warning on his own, dubcon, scent kink, somnophilia, homelander is a pervert, dry humping, oral (fem receiving), established relationship, canon homelander behaviour

┈┈┈┈┈◦•✩•◦┈┈┈┈┈

Homelander was not a good partner. One could hardly call him a boyfriend, whatever your endeavor with him was did not seem like a normal relationship. It was scary, you were scared of him, knowing he was at the verge of a homicidal tantrum on most days. And despite this, the only times you had witnessed his anger had been directed at others. A fellow supe, an unlucky intern, maybe Ashley. Mostly Ashley, you always thought that woman deserved a raise. But his feelings toward you were... different. It wasn't a normal kind of love, more of a dependency. You saw it in his eyes whenever you touched him, that slight shift of expression, the way his muscles tensed up and his breathing became ever so slightly faster. Maybe that was part of the allure, the fact you could render this monster useless with a few caresses and honeyed words. As long as he didn't realise how weak he actually was for you, you'd be fine.

You never liked sleeping in his penthouse, it was too much. The American memorabilia was almost comical, although you'd never commented on it, knowing it would probably upset him. It was hard to get in the mood when you felt George Washington staring at you, but Homelander's passion proved enough distraction. The sole reason you were in his bed was because he'd been extra needy lately, eventually you got tired of him showing up at your house unannounced, so you simply caved and temporarily moved to the Tower.

As you try to get some rest, you feel a cool breeze hit the back of your neck, followed by the silent pitter patter of his feet against the carpet, like a cat sneaking back home. He always took the window, he thought he was being stealthy when he flied in, but he always managed to wake you. Sometimes you wondered if he did it on purpose. The next thing you feel was the warmth of his body against your back, the padded suit kind of uncomfortable against whatever skin your pyjamas left exposed, it was like he was glued to that thing. In fact, you had only seen him fully naked once or twice. Since you don't hear any greeting, you assume he thinks you're asleep, and so you did just that; go back to sleep.

★・・・・・・★ ・・・・・・★ ・・・・・・★

You were so close, too close. He never could get enough of it. Homelander moves to rest his nose against your neck, sniffing your skin. You hadn't showered tonight, just how he liked it. His enhanced senses only made him get a bigger enjoyment out of your natural musk, specially in the summer, when sweat built up under your armpits, under your breasts, the bases of your feet. "(Name)?" He calls out in a soft voice, testing the waters. No answer. After a few moments, he slowly removes his gloves, carefully placing them on the night table. His hand sneaks on top of your waist, a fairly normal gesture, but it slowly travels upward. His fingers travel over your armpit, collecting some sweat. For a moment he just stares at his two fingers, his breathing growing a little heavier just from the knowledge of what he's done. Not out of shame, you're his to do whatever he wants with after all, but the fact this scent he loves so much now coated his own skin. Homelander brings the two digits to his nose, taking a good, long sniff, and breathing out in pleasure. He could already feel the bulge straining against his suit, painfully uncomfortable. "Fuck..." He muttered, now fully pressing his crotch against the curve of your ass, his face buried in your neck like he was trying to inhale every last pheromone you exuded, his hips pathetically humping you from behind. He couldn't care less if you woke up right now, surprisingly self aware of how messed up he was for grinding against you like a dog, but he couldn't stop. Your smell drove him insane. It was your fault for laying in his bed like that, without having showered.

Nearly two minutes of this went on before you stopped pretending to sleep. You had caught onto every little move, it wasn't like you were going to stop him. If he was going to get off on your sweat so be it, you wouldn't be the one to risk one of his temper tantrums against you. What you didn't like was how close he was to your core, inevitably making you wet from the friction, which slowly got quicker as his huffs got louder.

"John."

The mention of his name, his real name, made his blood run cold. Homelander stopped completely, as if stopping his movement now would somehow make you forget what had been going on since he arrived. You turned around to look at him, his face was equally flustered and shameless. You knew him enough that his embarrassment didn't come from a place of morals or a general idea of consent, it was purely because you saw him as he was; needy. Human.

You slowly shift to face him properly, his lips are slightly parted as he looks at you with puppy dog eyes, if you didn't know any better you could've said he was being gentle. Your hand rakes through his blond curls and he nearly melts at the action, his breath briefly hitching when you tug down on them. The action is a command, one he understands immediately, and without the need for words he removes the sheets from your body and lowers your pyjama bottoms along with your underwear down to your ankles, his eagerness practically tears them apart (it wouldn't be the first time).

Homelander lived for moments like this one, the sight of your cunt in front of his face, the smell of your wetness invading his nostrils. For a moment he's left a little starstruck, running his fingers slickly up your hole, letting your fluid act as lubricant as he caresses your clit. The contact earns a little whimper from you, the sound making his stomach flip. He would've teased you for it, but he's not a patient man, and the moment he hears that little sound he's pressing his entire face against your mound, the death grip on your thighs keeping you fully spread. His tongue is fast, his nose hitting your clit whenever he moves, and slowly but surely your breaths become pants, whimpers and moans falling from your lips and only making him more eager. He doesn't bother hiding how he's rutting against the mattress, you believe he's doing it purely out of instinct. Your hips buck forward chasing friction, and a muffled groan from him sends perfect vibration up your core, tugging his hair in response.

You've orgasmed a few times and you're ready to ask him to stop now that you're satisfied when you hear a crack in his voice, followed by a long, drawn out moan and a shaky breath that follows suit. Your mind still a little foggy from the climax, you sit up to look at him. "John?" He simply looks up at you, panting a little, a warm and wet spot between his thighs. It takes you a moment to register the fact he's creamed his pants just from eating you out, and if you weren't this exhausted the thought alone would be enough to rile you up for round two.

"You're welcome." You say with a little grin, chuckling as he practically collapses against your chest, burying himself between your breasts and merely humming in response. Next time he'll just wake you.

[dadsbongos]

5 times laios almost says he loves you + 1 time he does

2 k words / warnings - momentary lead up to smut (foreplay/roleplay), modern au w fantasy elements

summary - laios wants to tell you he loves you, but keeps getting interrupted.

~~~

When Laios was a kid, he'd imagined a tri-headed beast crossbred from reptiles, mammals, and birds attacking all his problems. Recently, that image has been… tweaked…

Now when he's afflicted by demeaning nightmares or stiff social situations, the power he summons to crush all which is dark sided is, surprisingly, a human.

A mere person.

His partner.

Every time you appear in his dream, Laios wakes up in a massively good mood. Whenever Laios pictures you over the unpleasant sight of strangers, he can suddenly bear unwelcome conversation. Whenever Laios so much as spots you, his whole day elevates -- swirling into something brighter and sweeter. Misery to melon juice, he’s absolute goo as soon as you’re in the room.

And everybody except him knows what his deal is. Similarly, they know it’ll take a miserably long while before he can spit it out.

the time where you’re naked

“I wanna learn human anatomy, can you pose nude for me?”

You choke on your water, trying to laugh off the awkward question with a couple chest-pats, “Can't you just look at porn for that stuff? I don't mind, you know?”

“Nah, I wanna draw you.”

“Oh! Uh, okay…” you cross the floor, drawing the curtains to your living room before stiffly beginning to disrobe, “Like… right now?”

“Mhm,” Laios nods excitedly.

“‘kay then.”

Sweat practically oozes down Laios’ forehead, shoulders knotted towards his jaw as he obsessively studies each roll and dip along your body. Trying to copy you down on sketch paper that’s now marred with charcoal and eraser strokes. Drawing has never been something Laios cared to prove himself for, he knows what he’s skilled with and doesn’t fret over what he isn’t. Until now, now he feels the utmost need to prove himself.

To prove how devoted he is to perfecting your body on paper because how else will his adoration be known?

Because trust: he does adore your body. So pretty. And tender. And so very welcoming to him, just like you. Laios adores your personality more than your body -- you’re nice and funny and understanding and, most importantly, you like him. You seriously like him. His rants about monsters, his social ineptitude, his shameless nature: you’re verily into all of it.

And, in turn, he’s into you. He’s so into you it makes him want to choke himself in excitement whenever you lock eyes.

He’s so into you he thinks he loves you.

Laios pauses mid stroke on your thigh: it’s a little skinnier than the fleshy counterpart. So he erases again and lets the realization fizz over him slowly.

He definitely loves you. Unfortunately the sudden thought makes him so emotional he’s tearing up.

the time you’re on a date

Flickering overhead fluorescents are hideously unflattering to customers and staff alike at the diner. Not you, though. Somehow you make them work, even though everytime Laios catches his reflection in a window he looks absolutely ghoulish. The pale wash of sickly light almost makes you seem like a varnished painting.

You’re not even aware of his obsessing, too busy scanning the menu, “I’m looking at the breakfast for dinner options, but I dunno what I want…”

Laios wants you, and he figures the best way to get it out is just saying it.

“I lo- !” he’s silenced by a woman cheerfully greeting the both of you.

Her broad grin tackles him like a personal slight.

“So, what can I get started for you guys?”

Laios swallows his frustration with a wash of chilled water, letting the rhythm of your voice soothe him. Now the mood is ruined. Too stuffy with this onlooker.

Oh, well, he sighs quietly before ordering his own dish; paying no mind to how the server silently questions his moody demeanor.

There’s always more chances.

the time where you’re naked pt. 2

When you’re genuinely asleep, your lashes consistently flutter against your cheeks with each jerk beneath your eyelids. Your lips are parted to let air puff between, and usually you’ll curl your arms towards your chest -- which Laios finds so cute it makes him want to bite you. Sweetly, of course. Not enough to draw blood, unless you say he can.

Either way, he’s fully aware you’re not really sleeping. Which he considers preferable since the secondary act of roleplay doesn’t work if you aren’t awake.

Suddenly, you roll onto your stomach and stretch along the bed -- perking your ass up with a faux drowsy mumble. Laios can register you’re trying to spur him on, a more emotional exhaustion gnawing your spirit the longer he goes without touching you.

Laios has never been able to fanatically explain Incubi mating before he met you (well: he skimmed through it with Kabru, but that didn’t feel impactful), and furthermore, he’s never been able to act it out. Nobody before you seemed the type to accept his interest in portraying a sleeping body about to be bred by an Incubus.

Nobody before you is even worth remembering, Laios steps forward with fingers trailing up the bed and teasing your ankle. Mouth opening, he’s gearing up to confess when suddenly a voice not his own breaks the scene first:

“Laios, please,” you mutter, pouting so adorably he feels like his chest is about to explode, “I don’t wanna be mean, but I need you to hurry it up.”

“Now we have to restart,” Laios steps back until he’s pressed against the bedroom door, “Okay, I’ll go faster this time,” then he grins, “That’ll be even more realistic if I rush in! You’re so smart!”

By the time Laios re-enters the room, his confliction of pure love has been stifled in favor of lust.

the time you’re out with friends

Earplugs are snug in Laios’ ears, cushy and pressing against every crevice of his ear, as he slouches into the booth across from Senshi. He’s sliding a mug of beer from hand-to-hand, leaving a condensation trail along the shiny veneer of the table. Beside him is a gaping hole he laments, belonging to you, as does the margarita saucer. Melting ice chips and an olive Laios promised to eat are the only remnants of your drink.

Otherwise, it all seems to be pumping through you like hot blood. A beaming grin alight on your face as you and Chilchuck bounce around each other on the dance floor. You’re holding hands in the cramped throng of guests so as to not lose each other, and Laios shocked Marcille by not getting the least bit jealous.

“I trust them,” he reasoned, “It’s not like I’m the only person allowed to touch their hands now.”

Not that he’d like to be, either. Laios thinks everyone should touch your hand at least once: it’s soft and warm and you’ve got the perfect grip strength. Just holding your hand makes Laios want to be a better, more upstanding citizen that votes and volunteers. That sort of inspiring spirit is something he couldn’t dream of caging.

You’re like a human morphine injection confounded with pure sunlight, and Laios is already a baked sucker.

“Don’t wanna join?” Senshi slides along the black leather seat until he’s squeezed out from their booth, “You won’t be so young forever, you know? Best to take advantage while you can.”

Laios can barely make out what his friend says, combining muffled gibberish with the shape his lips made and praying he’s assumed correct, “I like just watching them.”

Senshi’s gaze follows Laios’ pointing, he nods slowly and pitters off with another few mumbles.

Laios cannot handle anything outside the safety of your group’s booth. Music too loud and air too hot the further he crawls along the dance floor, so he leaves that to you. And Chilchuck. But mostly you.

Life has many opportunities for him to sway with you to music: in your shared apartment, at friends’ weddings, and fairs. He can handle not taking this particular once to dance with you, and besides just watching is enough.

He whispers affection into the club, naturally you catch none of what he says.

the time where you’re naked pt. 3

Your nails scratch over Laios’ scalp, rinsing bubbles from between sandy strands of hair. His head is tilted, neck beginning to ache from the angle as you finish scrubbing his hair clean. Fingers snatch him by the chin, forcing his head back until water is trailing down his spine and shaking out his head with finality.

“There,” you push onto your toes to kiss his cheek, making him hurry to stabilize you by snagging your hips, “All clean!”

“Thanks,” Laios fails to release you, instead letting you spin in his hands towards the wall for your body wash -- the brand he bought you for your birthday once and you always kept going back to.

“If you’re gonna keep groping me, wash my back, yeah?”

“I’m not groping,” Laios protests weakly, frowning at the perverse accusation. Though he doesn’t pause before uncapping your soap and squirting a heap into his palm, then yours when you hold your hand out expectantly.

You scale down your legs, from the inside of your thighs to your shins as Laios lathers your back. He shifts a step aside to let water coax soap foam down the curve of your spine. Then he’s stepping back entirely, eyes lingering inappropriately. If he was able to die staring at you, then he’d take that certainty in a heartbeat.

Now, right? Now is the perfect time for him to get it all out there. Nobody else is in your apartment. It's domestic and quiet and so, so peaceful.

“Hey,” he calls over the thrumming showerhead, and you hum sweetly in reply, “I lo- !” he bravely takes another step, a lost bar of soap slotting perfectly under the arch of his foot, “Fuck!”

“Huh?” you turn in time to gasp as Laios tumbles forward. Yanking down the shower curtain in a feeble attempt to catch himself before his skull thuds loudly against the tile wall, “Oh my God, Laios!”

His body collapses against the wall before limply sinking into the shallow tub. Your petrified face blurring out in favor of deep,

rich

black.

+1 - the time Laios had a head injury

“Can you see straight? How many fingers am I holding up?”

Laios smiles at your flagrant concern, enveloping your shaky hand with his own and bringing it toward his thigh -- still damp from the shower and barely covered by the boxers you hastily dressed him with, “I can see fine. Let’s leave the doctors to do the testing stuff.”

“I thought you were done for! I was so scared,” you don’t fare much better than Laios in the clothing department: shorts he knows are his wrapped around your waist, and shirts clinging uncomfortably to both your wet bodies.

“Aw,” he coos, leaning closer to peck your cheek, “I wouldn’t go down from a hit like that. My head’s a lot sturdier than some shower wall.”

“I know, but still! How terrifying, you just- !” you slap a hand against your thigh, “Boom!”

“Well, you got me to the hospital pretty fast,” Laios squeezes his hand around yours, “So even if I was dying -- which I wasn’t -- I definitely would’ve lived with how fast you were going.”

“I almost didn’t dress us, and then I spent the whole time you were asleep wondering if I got you killed by wasting the time.”

“Like I said, I wouldn’t die like that,” he shrugs, “I can’t die before I tell you I love you.”

“Huh?!”

“I love you, by the way,” he sighs, a hand splayed over his chest with apparent relief, “Now I can die.”

You laugh, head throwing back in glee before you can catch your breath, then patting his thigh with a smile, “No, you can’t die. Because I love you too, so you can’t just die on me.”

Laios’ cheeks flush, he nods curtly, “Cool.”

“Cool?”

“I spent so long trying to get it out that I never planned what to say when you told me you loved me back.”

Laios is so cute you want to bite him in half, and you’re unbelievably relieved to hear he feels the same.

[sturnioz]

‘BAD BOY’ — CHRISTOPHER STURNIOLO

pairing. christopher sturniolo x fem!reader genre. smut

word count. 1.8k

❝made just for me, aren't you?❞

content warnings. explicit content, porn without plot, mean!chris, lip ring!chris, fingering, unprotected sex, big dick!chris, dirty talk, creampie

“Shut the fuck up.” 

Chris’s voice growls, warning you to quieten down your pathetic sounds of desperation, his lip ring grazing against the shell of your ear. You shiver at the sudden contact, the coldness that nips at your skin.

You firmly press your lips together to conceal the noises that threaten to escape, all thanks to Chris’s hand that’s shoved beneath the waistband of your already ruined panties, his fingers rubbing vigorously at your clit while the other hand presses down on your stomach, holding you still against his chest.

Your legs are spread wide open, locked by his own. Your muscles ache, needing to be released from his hold but with the way the heel of his shoe digs into your calves to push them open even further, you know there’s no way you’ll be let out of this position any time soon.

Honestly, it amazes you how you ended up in this position, with Chris of all people.

Chris, so you thought, was one of the bad boy quiet types—bad in a way that his blunt personality got him into a lot of trouble, and that he didn’t give a fuck about other people and his surroundings as he mostly kept to himself, refusing to get involved with others unless it was necessary.

Chris didn’t like talking to people, and he never made the effort to make conversation with people he barely knew, always the type to hang his head low and sharply glare at whoever tried getting too close to him.

You walking over to him was a dare, all thanks to your friends, wanting to see if you could be the one to get a somewhat decent conversation out of him before he did his usual intimidation technique of glaring and ignoring.

But one moment you were both sitting on the couch together—surprisingly having small talk about something so silly and bland—and the next you were back at his place, spread open on his unmade bed on the verge of cumming.

“How are you so wet from me playing with your clit?” Chris ridicules you with a scoff, his movements refusing to slow down as you wiggle against his hold. “Are you really that easy? Are you that much of a needy slut that you get turned on from a simple touch?” Chris clicks his tongue against his teeth, “That’s fucking pathetic.”

“Chris—”

“Did I say you could speak?” 

You immediately shut up, and you throw your head back on Chris’s shoulder, staring up at the postered covered ceiling with a silent gasp as he presses the heel of his palm down on your swollen clit, rubbing in sloppy circles which has your head spinning.

His chin digs uncomfortably in your collarbone to peer down at his hand inside your underwear, scoffing at the sight of the lace dampening as his fingers stroke your puffy folds, teasing your cunt before plunging two fingers inside.

You’re in shock at how easy he’s pumping his fingers in and out of your sloppy cunt, reaching further than yours or anyone else's fingers have ever reached before. Your toes curl in pleasure, your own hands grasping at his wrist to keep yourself grounded, unable to keep your noises at a minimum.

“Louder,” Chris mutters his order. “Let me know how good my fingers fill you up.”

When he adds a third, the stretch is uncomfortable at first and you’re afraid you’re not going to be able to handle it, but it soon dissolves into pleasure once you find yourself enjoying the feeling of being full, and your back arches against his chest, a mixture of broken moans and whines spilling from your lips. 

“Pl—ah! please, keep going… don’t—fuck—don’t stop!” You babble incoherently, no longer being able to keep quiet as he continues fucking you with his fingers, the heel of his palm rubbing over your clit for extra stimulation.

“Can you hear how wet you are?” Chris hums in your ear, pressing his lips to your lobe in a seemingly gentle kiss. “Listen to the way you sound.”

It makes you dizzy hearing how wet you are, the squelching noise of his fingers plunging into your cunt fills the room, blending in with your own cries. It’s tipping you closer and closer to the edge, that band in your stomach tightening, and with one simple curl of his fingers, you cum hard.

You’re shaking through your orgasm, and your hand grips tighter around his wrist, nails digging into his skin to stop him from overstimulating you as your legs tremble with each movement he makes. 

He removes his other hand from your stomach to rip your grip away, forcing you to stop pinching him with your nails as he continues to finger you through your orgasm, watching as your release soaks his hand and your already ruined panties. 

“There we go…” The chuckle that rumbles in his chest vibrates on your back as you slump against him, trying to catch your breath. Although, you don’t have time to get comfortable as Chris is already shoving you off of him, your body falling slack on the bed sheets as he climbs above you, shoving himself between your legs.

The panties that stick uncomfortably to your pussy are ripped off in seconds, thrown carelessly across Chris’s bedroom floor and you watch through blurred vision as his fingers quickly make work of the belt buckle on his jeans. 

Once he shoves them down his legs, kicking them off his feet with his boxers, that’s when you suck in a deep breath at the sheer size of his cock. You wonder how he was going to fit inside your cunt, and your legs instinctively close around his hips, causing his head to sharply lift up to look at you with a darkened glare.

“It’s not—it’s not going to fit…” You explain with a panicked expression, shaking your head quickly. “You’re too big. It’s not—you’re not going to fit, I—”

“Why do you think I fingered you in the first place?” Chris asks you, and his hand comes up to touch your cheek more gently than you expected, his thumb pulling down your bottom lip. “I was getting your pussy prepared, sweetheart… open and ready for me.”

His words are enough to send a shiver down your spine and your cunt desperate to be filled. You unlock your legs from around his hips, relaxing down on the bed but Chris has other plans as his hands drip the backs of your thighs to push upwards, the strain painful but you shove it to the side as he rests each of your legs on his shoulders and leans over you, leaning you squished and folded in half.

Your fingernails dig into his biceps, your face twisted into a wince as you feel the tip of his cock at your hole, and you suck in a deep breath as Chris slides into you with ease, his balls form against your asscheeks as he buries himself in your wet heat.

The stretch is almost unbearable and the cramp in your thighs makes you want to shove him off and tell him you can’t take it, but the subtle roll of his hips has his cock brushing against your walls and you shiver, nails digging further into his skin with your jaw slacked. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight…” Chris hisses through his teeth, his breath fanning across your face as it hovers just above yours.

You want to kiss him badly. You haven’t kissed since the night first started, and you would be lying if you said you haven’t yearned for his lips. Even when you’ve tried to kiss him, he always pulls away, opting to bite down on his lip ring instead.

You’re slightly annoyed, baffled on why he seems so fine on fingering you and fucking you but not giving you a simple kiss. Yet the annoyance slips away when his hips draw back, only to thrust forward deeply, his skin slapping against yours.

“You’re too big,” You whimper, pressing your lips together tightly as the tears brim in the corner of your eyes. “How are you so big?”

Chris just smirks, and he turns his head to nip the skin of your leg as he fucks into you, picking up the pace with each thrust. He’s grunting loudly, and he’s swearing under his breath every time he feels your cunt squeeze around his cock.

“You’re so good, so fucking tight,” Chris mumbles, his gaze meeting yours. “Your pussy is the perfect fit… made just for me, aren’t you?” His eyes seem to darken for a moment, his grip tight on your legs. “Tell me. Tell me you’re made for me.”

“I… I’m—”

”I can’t hear you,” Chris growls with one hard thrust.

You wail loudly, throwing your head back against the pillows as the tears stream down your cheeks. “I’m made just for you!!”

“God…” Chris groans. “You’re such a good girl.”

Much to your surprise, Chris finally leans down to mould his lips with yours, the cold metal lip ring sending a shock to your core and you immediately erupt, your legs shaking on his shoulders as you cum once again.

You’re moaning against his lips, your hands sliding up his shoulders to grip the curly tufts of hair on the nape of his neck, allowing his thrusts to drive you into overstimulation as he chases his own high.

The headboard of the bed knocks against the wall with each powerful thrust of his hips, and you could honestly care less if you’re waking up his neighbours or his roommates, too focused on the way his lips feel on yours, his tongue dipping into your mouth.

“I’m gonna cum,” Chris tells you with a whisper, sadly breaking the kiss to look you in the eyes. “Are you gonna let me cum in your pussy?”

“Yes,” You nod hastily, wanting him to fill you up. “Cum in me. Please.”

Chris grins, leaning down to press his lips to yours once more before he gives you last deep thrust and stills, groaning into your mouth as his cock pumps, filling you with his cum. You gasp, holding his hips tightly as he emptied himself inside of you, filling you to the brim just like you wanted.

Chris grunts heavily before pulling away from your lips, sitting up on his knees and letting your legs slip off of his shoulders, dropping numbly to the bed. 

You’re exhausted—you’re aching—but you watch him as Chris gazes down to where his cock is still buried deep inside your cunt, a grin spreading across his lips as his hand presses down on your lower stomach, feeling himself in your guts.

“See?” Chris hums, raising his head to meet your eyes. “Made just for me.”

© sturnioz

[targaryenluvs]

— ALL GROWN UP

pairings: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

summary: you were always tigris's annoying rich friend to coriolanus, but once he returns from 12 you seem to be irresistible, not only to him.

warnings: normal coryo in all honesty, jealousy, flirting, p in v, oral (m), choking, kinda subby coryo - for a bit, time gap he spent a year in 12 (i got lazy this is short and basically just porn with slight plot)

a/n: hehehehe first fic of 2024 kiddos besides the klaus one!

your laughter was the last thing coriolanus wanted to hear, ever. it was still annoying when he was here, and it was still once he returned.

"there's no way!" tigris giggled a loud as you joined in.

"tigris?" he called out to her, waiting. "coryo!" tigris yelled as she ran to him, his arms open for her. "it's so good to see you, you’ve been so busy." you laughed, "your hair, it's worse in person." would you shut up? who were you to interrupt a family-

your night dress was black, short, barely below your crotch. lace details, messy hair, you were nothing short a of a dream, and it was messing with his head. he was so use to hating you, your stupid gorgeous face and here he was, dumbstruck. “y/n?” you nodded with a sweet smile, “how are you coriolanus?”

he sighed, “exhausted, between the university and dr gaul, it seems i’m stretched thin these days.” you nodded along, “it seems you’re well on your way to success.” he inhaled, not use to your kind words, “thank you.”

apparently you were staying with the snow’s for a week or so, much to coriolanus’s elation. surprisingly, in the time he’d been away you’d become, tolerable. it sure as hell had nothing to do with the sway in your walk, your sweet eyes looking up at him and your new found confidence, no he just felt nice.

he was itching to get a taste.

he’d seen you out and about, talking with almost all the people around. a kind smile aimed at quite literally everyone. almost every guy in the restaurant seemed to know you, and he couldn’t help but feel annoyed.

didn’t they know you came for lunch with him?

shouldn’t they know better?

you weren’t his, yet.

it was late at night, you needed something to drink.

grandma’ams tea isn’t exactly the most refreshing. you were in the midst of scouring the kitchen for a teabag of actual flavour when you’d heard him behind you.

“looking for this?” he held the jar in his hands, “actually, yes.” you walked over to grab it and he only held it higher, “coryo, please.” he grinned, “coryo huh?” you placed your hands on your hips, annoyed, “yes, now if you don’t mind.” the jar clattered on the counter and you quickly swiped it away. “would you like some?”

in the reflection of the glass cabinet, you saw him shake his head, “i’m in the mood for something else.” you giggled at his vagueness, “oh? and what might that be mr snow?” his smirk was all you needed to know what he was hinting at. “you’re playing a dangerous game here coryo,” he feigned confusion, “am i now?” you smiled, “yes you are.” he was behind you now, breath heavy and hot on your shoulder, “i might be, question is, are you willing to play?”

his lips were on your neck, light as ever, open mouthed kisses all the way up to your cheek. “cory” he gathered your hair, swinging it over your shoulder, “cory? that’s new.” you smiled, “i know. i’m going to take a shower, wanna join? to conserve water of course.” as if they need to, they had more than enough money now.

“to conserve, of course.”

the hot water rose steam, surrounding you as coryo watched from outside. the fog covered up all the parts he wanted to see, and his night pants seemed smaller. soap running all over you, soft hands trailing down. “i think you’ll get a much better view from in here.”

he ripped his clothes off, practically stumbling around in the soft glow of the guest room lamp. he’d been waiting for so long. ten minutes. his hands massaged your scalp, washing it off remaining shampoo and conditioner. ridding your body of any soap, your shoulders, your stomach, your thighs.

and soon enough he pressed you against the wall, imprints of hands staining the glass. you were both unbearably needy, messy kisses and desperate touches. you revelled in his grasp, you felt as if your skin was on fire. “y/n, please.” he whined. you giggled at his begging, “please what coryo?” you stroked his dick as he groaned out, “suck me off. now.” you laughed at his words, “pretty bossy for someone who was whining like a little bitch two seconds ago.” he was about to protest but your warm mouth on him seemed to shut up all forms of protest.

“oh god.” he leaned his head back on the wall as you dug your nails into the back of his thighs. the water pouring down on the two of you made coryo glisten, his abs looking especially sweet. droplets of water fell down from his hair onto you.

as if you weren’t enough the view of you on your knees, your tuts on display was more than enough for him to explode down your throat. “fuck, when did you learn to do this slut? you been practicing f’me?” his attempt at regaining control had you suppressing your laughter.

but his hand in your hair tugging you to your feet, crazy eyes and a very attractive smirk? “only for you cory.” you wrapped your arms around his neck and gently kissed him, “all for me.”

“please, cory. i need you.” you leaned your head against his as he directed his cock to entrance, teasing you. “you want it?” you nodded your head vehemently, “god just please, fuck me.” he kissed your cheek before pushing in, “anything you say baby.” you moaned out at the feeling of him in you, filling you to the brim. you felt unbearably hot, between the running water and coryo rutting into you it felt like heaven.

you can feel the wetness dripping down your thigh, mixing in with the water, “messy girl, aren’t you?” your hands dug into his shoulders almost painfully, “jump up.” wrapping your legs around of his waist, his hands cupped your ass. his pace is unbelievably brutal, “such a bitch to me, making me look weak.”

you shook your head, “didn’t mean to, didn’t mean to i swear.” you mewl, hot tears streaming down your cheeks, as coryo lets out throaty groans.

“stop crying.”

“i can’t, you feel so good!”

“stop crying or i’m not gonna let you cum.” his hand tightened around your throat, cutting off your airway. the dizziness paired with his thrusts inside of you was absolutely delicious. he let up only to mark you before returning to it.

“not yet," his grip around your throat tightened as coryo continued thrusted into you, obviously chasing his own high. "you'll cum when i do.” please cum. you thought, please please please.

his hips slowed down as he groaned, “fuck, all for me yeah? all grown up, aren’t you baby?” your nails marked up his back as he grunted, the hot water seemed to make the fresh marks hurt all the more. coriolanus loved the stinging, almost as much as he loved your cunt.

“cum, cum for me.” you weren’t sure if your release came before or after, but all you felt was unwavering pleasure and relief. you rested your head in the crook of his neck, you were so exhausted. “you did good, so good y/n.” coryo praised you as he pressed kisses to your forehead.

“let’s get you cleaned up yeah?”

[nanaslutt]

you made it to my masterlist, everything you could ever dream of is here :p

if it’s not? send me an ask & i’ll make ur dreams come true >:)

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

𝐣𝐣𝐤 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

GOJO:

ᑉ³ cocky gojo x reader

ᑉ³ gojo w a mommy kink

ᑉ³ pussy inspector gojo

ᑉ³ sensitive gojo

ᑉ³ riding gojo’s abs

ᑉ³ ruining gojo’s org*am (nnn)

ᑉ³ gojo c*mming in his pants

ᑉ³ virgin!gojo being surprisingly good in bed

ᑉ³ gojo playing w ur hair before he throat fucks u

ᑉ³ aphrodisiac chocolates w gojo

ᑉ³ perv!gojo obsessed with your freckles

ᑉ³ toys and overstim w jealous boyfie gojo

ᑉ³ road head w gojo

ᑉ³ gojo teaching you how to masturbate on an orange pt.2 pt.3

ᑉ³ sending gojo nudes + phone sex

ᑉ³ head+restraints+blindfolded gojo

ᑉ³ body swap w gojo pt.2

ᑉ³ making out to avoid getting caught troupe w gojo

ᑉ³ making gojo squirt + overstimulation

ᑉ³ throat training w/ gojo

ᑉ³ somno w/ gojo

ᑉ³ bath time w/ gojo

ᑉ³ gojo’s first time fucking you raw

ᑉ³ oral w/ husband & father jealous gojo

GETO:

ᑉ³ perv!geto

ᑉ³ perv!geto ‘pt.2’

ᑉ³ perv!geto catches you using the shower head

ᑉ³ mutual masturbation with geto

ᑉ³ geto begging to put it in

ᑉ³ Perv!Geto takes you out :3

ᑉ³ perv!geto taking care of you while you’re sick (smut)

ᑉ³ hate sex with geto

ᑉ³ geto begging u to spit in his mouth

ᑉ³ period sex w geto

SATOSUGU:

ᑉ³ caught watching porn w/ satosugu

ᑉ³ eifel tower w the boys

ᑉ³ pt 2 ^

ᑉ³ nurse geto & doctor gojo x reader

ᑉ³ milking gojo’s prostate w/ geto on the phone

ᑉ³ satosugu eating you out

NANAMI:

ᑉ³ nanamin “teaching” ino how to touch his girlfriend

ᑉ³ one bed troupe w/ nanami

ᑉ³ riding nanami’s thigh

ᑉ³ supporting nanami under his desk

ᑉ³ cockwarming husband nanami

ᑉ³ giving virgin nanami head

ᑉ³ househusband nanami

ᑉ³ office sex with nanami

TOJI:

ᑉ³ toji talking you through it

ᑉ³ trying to get toji to sub

ᑉ³ toji teaching you how to give him head

ᑉ³ dry humping w toji

ᑉ³ MMA! Toji + leaked sex tape pt.2

ᑉ³ entering the zenin clan as toji’s pretty wife

ᑉ³ bodygaurd + brat tamer toji

ᑉ³ toji’s panty kink

CHOSO:

ᑉ³ choso giving head +praise kink

ᑉ³ catching choso masturbating

ᑉ³ choso getting head for the first time

ᑉ³ choso w/ a tongue piercing

ᑉ³ choso loves ur moans + breeding kink

ᑉ³ teaching choso how to give head (m!reader)

ᑉ³ exhibitionism w/ choso

ᑉ³ giving Choso a boobjob

ᑉ³ pussyjob with choso

ᑉ³ soft sex with virgin!choso

SUKUNA

ᑉ³ rough sex with true form sukuna

ᑉ³ true form sukuna eating u out w/ his stomach mouth

ᑉ³ edging + sex toys + mirror w/ sukuna

ᑉ³ sukuna getting worked up from a fight (solo)

ᑉ³ virgin sukuna drabble

HIGURUMA

ᑉ³ face sitting w/ hiromi

YUKI

ᑉ³ whipped roommate yuki gives u the strap

ᑉ³ yuki making you squirt

MULTI

ᑉ³ jjk mens reactions to you starting your period during sex

ᑉ³ crack smut

ᑉ³ fav cuddling positions

ᑉ³ are the jjk men into getting their nipples played with?

ᑉ³ jjk men & thicc women

ᑉ³ new year kisses

ᑉ³ passing out in the middle of sex

ᑉ³ my texts convos as jjk men

ᑉ³ using your safe word

ᑉ³ faking an orgasm

𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐬

ᑉ³ strong nanami

ᑉ³ nanami pulls your hair

ᑉ³ mean nanami

ᑉ³ sugurus hair

ᑉ³ kenjaku x jin itadori

ᑉ³ choking gojo

ᑉ³ PervRoommate!Geto scenarios

ᑉ³ satosugu angst (nsfw)

ᑉ³ todo fucking his idol (you)

ᑉ³ kirara & hakari x reader threesome

ᑉ³ horny uraume drabble

ᑉ³ fucking mtf kirara

twt: nanaslvtt